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100. Ch12 S19 & EPILOGUE
Hi! This is Bottled Embers.
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INDEX | Chapter 12 | Scene 1 | Scenes 2 & 3 | Scenes 4 & 5 | Scenes 6 & 7 | Scene 8 | Scenes 9 & 10 | Scenes 11 - 13 | Scenes 14 - 16 | Scenes 17 & 18 | Scene 19 & Epilogue |
Previously: Misty an Logan continue training, and try using the sense sync to reset Misty’s energy regeneration as a way to manage her Penance. During the exchange, Logan realizes that Misty wants to go back to Telera to help her people because Chrys, who is also the Teleran Crown Princess, is alive! Afterward, they go see Minister of Planetary Governance Mandla who is Luke’s Authority contact to negotiate a deal that will free him and get Misty back home to Telera.
“That Chrys was the princess didn’t matter when she was dead,” I reply, frustration bubbling in my chest.
“Well, it matters now.”
"How?" I throw my arms up, “How does it matter?”
“It changes everything.”
And it does. It gives us leverage. Leverage to negotiate a deal. One that will get us out of the trouble I’ve got us into, maybe even get me back home.
* * *
We spend the evening trying to reach full sync. Surprisingly enough, it seems to work—at least, a little. By morning, my energy regeneration feels slower and after a quick warmup, I feel… right.
To think this—this—could to be the key to managing the Penance I’ve suffered with for as long as I can remember, is almost too much to process. But there’s no time to dwell on it.
There’s too much to do.
We have to undercut Morgan to be sure of keeping Minister Liebenberg in the dark until the deal is sealed. So Luke puts us in touch with his Authority contacts and Logan negotiates the meeting. Turns out Sol’s Authority, is pretty eager for stronger ties with the Blue Solar System, diplomacy, tech, resources. It all makes sense now. How Luke got his so called research trip all those years ago. Why I was welcomed with open arms wherever I’ve gone since I’ve been here.
I’ve never considered how all this might be connected.
Chrys only ever told me it was her aunt Lia who arranged things on the outside. We never knew who the rebels were supposed to be. But now, I have to wonder—was Mandla part of it too?
Was Luke one of them all along?
***
The minister is a strange man with an imposing presence that speaks of a subtle power I can’t quite place, even though he has not a shred of raw energy to speak of. I force myself to do the talking, borrowing my words from Logan, but the meeting goes well. In the end, they’re willing to give me exactly what I want—as long as I’m willing to make some compromises too.
This is one of them.
Now, back at the manor, sitting in the library, I try not to think about what the deal I made will cost me, or the way Logan looked at me when I agreed. Sharing my mind with Luke is easier this time than ever, even with the shifty little Serp present. All I have to do is concentrate and I can already feel the connection forming. Luke is gentle, as always, but firm—his presence a solid anchor point in the churning tension that fills the library, and I cling to it as my every instinct screams against the mental intrusion.
I look around the room, trying to get used to the feeling of Luke inside my head. He and I are settled on the white leather sofa. Logan and Mr. Darrell—the same telepathic Serp who came to ‘observe’ Luke’s lessons all those years ago, are on the armchairs opposite. Logan’s expression is just shy of a grimace as he senses my discomfiture. He’s not happy about this either.
I search for more distractions. The glass coffee table in the middle gleams with untouched crystal tumblers of whisky and ice in the bright afternoon sunlight. I wonder if a sip of liquor might help, but decide it’s a bad idea. The disaster at Tanya’s party got us into this mess.
The little desk area where Luke tried to help me learn about his world catches my eye. Luke really doesn’t like change. It’s still exactly the same as it was back then. Plants, projector and all.
I behaved very badly that last lesson day—caused Luke a lot of trouble. I wonder if I should apologize to Mr. Darrell for my outburst, but decide not to. There’s no point.
Logan’s eyes reflect sadness, even though his expression is now neutral. He knows how hard Luke fought to negotiate our way out of this exchange. It’s great to have Luke free, but he lost a lot of influence with his position. Now I have no choice but to allow the smug snakelike little man inside my head. The minister insisted that it wasn’t enough to let him observe through Luke only. It had to be a direct link. The thought alone repulses me.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, suppressing a shiver, as the Serp’s orange smoke oozes out of his head, approaching me in wisps and tendrils. Just get it over with. I tell myself and breathe in deeply letting the vapor work its way through my nasal passages to my brain.
Luke knows what to look for. I just have to show him the memories. Not of how I was trained, but what I was trained in. It is a subtle difference, that changes it’s meaning completely.
As I focus, my chest tightens. The weight of what I’m doing presses down on me.
This is dangerous. It’s selfish. It’s treason.
There’s no directive, no assurance that any good will come of this. I’m showing them everything: tactics, strategies, tech—information that’s been drilled into me as sacred. Secrets Teag would have killed to protect.
Traitor.
The word spikes through me like cold steel.
Even with Luke here, even knowing he won’t misuse what I share, I can’t stop my mind from racing. What if the PG twists my memories into something dangerous? What if this ends with people I used to know—used to fight for—paying the price?
Logan rises to place a hand on my shoulder, while Luke’s silky voice echoes in my skull. “You’re in control, Misty. Just let it flow.”
That’s right, I’m in control.
I force the memories forward. Reminding myself of the mission I ran away for. The mission Chrys died for. If this works, the status quo will change anyway.
We go fast.
James implanted a vast array of information in my mind. Teag made me write it all out, then recite it while I trained. Tactics—advanced combat techniques, infiltration methods, and evasion strategies. Tech—equipment, weaponry, and engineering. Politics, I know less of, but there’s our societal structure and customs, power systems and hierarchies. At any rate, firsthand experience is more than Sol has ever had before.
The volume we handle is overwhelming. The Serp sees everything, but at this speed it’ll be hard to take it all in. I wonder how much information even Luke can absorb in so short a span. Mr. Darrell will have to rely on Luke’s written report to confirm any details and I know I can trust Luke to be selective when compiling that.
Still, instinct demands that I hold back. A part of me feels like I’m unspooling everything I’ve ever been—a betrayal of the loyalty stamped into my bones.
By the time it’s over, I’m drenched in sweat, all but panting from the effort of pushing through my resistance.
Luke beams at me proudly as the Serp stares, his big yellow eyes glinting with unspoken questions.
After a minute, Luke starts explaining. His words are measured and precise, as always. His words are measured and precise, as always. His voice is silk as he lays out what I’ve shown him, weaving it into a story that the Serp should understand. He casually mentions that the written report will contain all the relevant details.
I wonder how much of what he says is laced with influence as I keep my eyes on the coffee table, watching the condensation drip down the sides of those pretty cut crystal tumblers, barely able to hear them talking over the rushing in my ears. I’ve just handed the Planetary Guard everything they need to exploit us—or destroy us.
And Mr. Darrell knows it. Soon the rest of them will too.
Logan takes my hand while Luke and Mr. Darrell finish up their meeting.
Logan doesn’t say anything but he knows. My mind feels raw—stripped bare by the rush of memories I’ve unleashed. The betrayal I’ve just committed haunts me.
Teleran pride and loyalty are fundamental, drilled into every one of us from birth. Teag and James hammered it into me during every lesson. And now I’ve gone and burned all of it down in one afternoon.
I feel sullied, like I need to scrub away the stain of it. Logan leads me in the direction of the gym.
A swim might be just the thing.
***
Logan and I stay at the manor, while Luke delivers our final report to the minister. Luke says in a few weeks it’s pretty much a done deal.
While we wait for them to respond, Logan and I continue with the training we were doing at the cabin, undoing the years of rigid control and practicing synchronized combat. He says he can see my progress.
In between, we help Luke out with refitting the ship ahead of our departure. With all of the paperwork in place, as soon as it’s done we can go.
***
I try not to cheat as Logan walks behind me, hands over my eyes, but I don’t need sight to know where we’re going. The path beneath my feet, the scents in the air, the subtle shifts in sound—all of it tells me we’re heading to the ship’s hangar behind the manor. And Logan’s excitement gives the rest away.
He’s kept me immersed in training the past few weeks and too busy to worry about the refit on the ship, but now, I finally get to see it. I’m excited too. And even though, after all this training, it’s almost second nature to lean into the sync and borrow his senses, I resist. Let him have his surprise.
Finally, he stops. “Ready?”
“Of course.”
He lifts his hands, and my eyes snap up at the sight before me. I instantly recognize Luke’s ship with its sleek aerodynamic egg shape and compact twin engines in dark blue and silver. It looks just like it did the day they found me settled at the bottom of that little bowl shaped valley on Telera at sunsset.
Up close, I’m taken aback by the size. I run my hand along the underside feeling the cool metal finish as we walk between the landing gear. It has to be over thirty meters long and at least three levels. I raise an eyebrow wondering if just the three of us will be able to crew it.
“It’s the same shell, but nearly everything inside has been upgraded,” Luke announces with pride as the ramp lowers silently. “There’s faster fusion core, better navigation system, even a robot assistant in the mess and in our new medical bay.”
Logan nudges me forward, “Come on, let’s go in.”
I grin as I step through the airlock.
It feels strange. I half expect to be hit with a wave of old memories, but nothing comes. It’s just a ship—quiet, sterile, familiar in ways I can’t place and unfamiliar in others. The corridor where we fought is there, repaired so seamlessly you’d never know a battle tore through it. The infirmary is sleek and fully stocked, humming with all kinds of new equipment. Only the best. The bridge looks streamlined, with big bright displays and reinforced seating. Three booths. One each.
But it isn’t until we pass those areas that I realize they’re leading me somewhere else.
Logan glances at Luke, grinning. “You’re gonna love this.”
Luke sighs. “It was necessary.”
We reach a lift, and Luke enters a command. The doors shut, and the feeling of motion is subtle—down, not up. I frown. There shouldn’t be anything below the main deck.
When the doors slide open, I step into an open space—unexpectedly vast for a ship this size. The walls gleam, dark metal lined with control panels, but the real focus is the gravity well at the center. The sight of it takes my breath.
A gym. A real one.
Not a makeshift training area, not a corner of a cargo bay cleared for drills. An entire level, built specifically for this.
I take a slow step forward. “This is…”
“Luke’s idea,” Logan says, smug.
I whip around. “No way.”
Luke looks unimpressed. “I prefer a crew that isn’t falling apart.”
I glance at the grav controls, noting the additional voice command interface. I reach out, running my fingers over the panel. This is just like the one at the manor.
Better, even.
I glance back at them, my heart pounding in a way I didn’t expect. “I can really train here?”
“The entire level is a raw energy sink that can recycle through the ship’s power, or vents into space if necessary,” Luke says with a wink. “Just in case.” I stare back at him. “You should test it out.”
Logan grins. “Actually, that’s the plan.”
I blink. “What?”
Luke presses a button on the wall, and suddenly, the lights shift. The gravity around us drops—not completely, but enough to make my feet feel lighter against the floor. Logan pushes off, floating slightly before landing with a spin.
“Welcome to your birthday party—well re-birthday party,” he announces
My stomach flips. “What?”
Luke, still standing near the controls, smirks slightly. “It was Logan’s idea.”
Of course it was.
I exhale sharply, taking it all in—the space, the gravity controls, the way Logan is already moving like we’re mid-training.
Of course it’s not my real birthday. I’m not sure how that would relate here with Teleran days being longer and it’s years shorter but according to Earth Prime’s calendar it’s the anniversary of the day they found me, the day my life changed.
And now it’s about to change all over again.
They didn’t have to do anything. But they did.
And I think, for the first time in a long time, I actually want to celebrate.
I push off the floor, flipping effortlessly into the air before landing lightly on my feet. Logan whoops.
“Now we’re talking.”
Maybe this won’t be so bad.
The end.
EPILOGUE
The ship hums beneath me, the familiar vibrations grounding me even as my thoughts whirl. I stand alone on the bridge, staring at the view ahead. The Blue Solar System. Telera. Home. At least it was home. I’m not so sure anymore.
The images James showed me all those years ago really can’t do the vast expanse of it justice. The three suns—blazing yellow Serus, angry red Korus, even pale blue Lemus—they cast the space around in a surreal light that makes each planet seem to glow. Telera somehow feels too bright.
I lean forward pressing my palms against the warm forcefielded viewing portal, watching the worlds below get closer. Manoria is a little speck in the distance, almost too far away to see. Dead Maxillia—the half of it that’s still there anyway, surrounded by debris from tearing itself apart. And closest now, Telera. It’s northern continent, blanketed in white, seems untouched and silent, while the southern half is alive with green and the shining blue ribbon of equatorial ocean separates the two. It’s all so familiar, and yet—not.
Has it really been a whole decade since Luke and Logan rescued me—stole me away to safety? Ten years since I was pulled from a life that was never reallly mine, a life I don’t know how to reconcile with who I am now. Those years feel like they’ve passed in a blur, but the ache of my past—of Telera—has never really gone away.
I stare out at the planet, feeling the weight of my thoughts. I’m not sure what to feel.
It’s supposed to be good, isn’t it?
I’m home, aren’t I?
This was once home, but I don’t know how I fit into it anymore. The long stretch of snow in the north. The green fields and blue waters in the south. They’ve been here all this time, unchanging, waiting. But I—I—have changed.
And Chrys? How much will she have changed? I close my eyes. My connection with Logan is still there, strong and clear as ever, but when I think of Chrys there’s this chasm, the ache of losing her is all I feel, still. Our connection has been dormant for so long. I wonder how close I’ll have to get before it blooms again, if it even will, and what will happen when it does. What if I lose control again? What if she has changed? What if the anger is still there, buried deep within me, pushing me toward something I can’t even understand?
My hands tense at my sides as I try to shove the thoughts away. I can’t focus on that right now. Not when Telera is right in front of me.
I exhale slowly, trying to ground myself in the moment, but my heart pounds like it has a mind of its own. “What am I doing?” I whisper to the empty bridge.
I hear footsteps behind me. Logan’s voice breaks the silence, soft and understanding. “You’re thinking too hard.”
I don’t turn around. “I’m not thinking. I’m feeling. And I’m not sure what any of it means.”
Logan steps closer, his presence familiar and grounding, like a tether I didn’t realize I needed. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” he says gently. “This is your time.”
I close my eyes briefly, taking in the quiet of the ship. The hum of the engines, the soft flicker of lights, Logan and Luke’s steady presence. This is the moment I’ve been avoiding, the moment where I have to confront everything I’ve left behind—and everything I’ve become in the process.
“I thought coming back would give me answers,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intended. “But it’s only making things more confusing.”
“We've only just got here! Give it a minute.”
I smile, he’s right. He usually is.
“It’ll be a while before Luke comes to program the landing. Wanna hit the gym one last time. Clear your head before we go down.” He offers.
“Only if I get to set the G-level.” I say with a wink and we walk hand in hand to the lift and then turn to catch one last glimpse of Telera, gleaming in the sunslight as the doors, silently, slide shut.
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Author’s Notes:
Hi guys and gals—Beloved sparks…
I disappeared—again…
Yes.
The baby caught me.
A beautiful baby girl—2,9kgs, 48cm. All ten toes, all eight fingers, and two thumbs. Healthy. Happy.
Now, I have 1958 unread emails and a 24 week streak broken by three missed posts. I’ve been trying to get back into the swing of things all week. It’s not going so well.
To be honest I’ve had nothing but time. My mum and dad were visiting until yesterday to help out. So cooking and chores were taken care of, kids were fed and bathed regularly, even the laundry is folded. And I’ve slept more in the last three weeks than in the month previously. But my bandwidth has been limited.
Falling in love with another tiny human takes up a lot of space in one’s small bottle of a brain. The embers are burning hot too, falling out the cracks now ‘n then. I’ve hardly missed writing.
I have missed you guys though.
Which is why this is so hard right now.
—
I must disappoint you all today.
This is your 100th—and FINAL episode. Yup, that’s all there is to Bottled Embers.
Misty is staring at Telera from orbit, and she’s just as lost as you guys. Even more terrifying than confronting her past, is facing her highly uncertain future. There are so many possibilities—so few of them good. She’s not sure how she feels, but determined to go through with this scariest exercise of her life nonetheless.
And that is as far as my original concept goes.
Thanks for sticking around. I don’t know what happens next.
Well, that’s not entirely true, I have some ideas for where the story can go but it isn’t written yet—not even in draft form—not even an outline.
The rest of this story exists only in my fickle imagination, in limbo—like a Schrodinger’s cat.
So here I leave you for a bit—again—while I open the box.
Keep well friends.
TTFN.
- Jenny*
Thanks for reading!
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P.S.
The Sci-Friday tags. Thanks
for the weekly digest.Here’s the rest of the gang:
And that’s it.
- J*
A Bittersweet day Jenny... Great clothes, but now it's over. I loved your story, Your Enthusiasm, your commitment to see it through, and your courage to work through all the things that slowed you down along the way. Very nicely done!
This part shows how Misty’s focus is shifting—she’s not just training anymore, she’s thinking about her people and going home. And now they’re finally trying to make a deal to set things right.