Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Aefre
My console beeps sharply, and the holographic display comes to life. Ira’s name flashes across the screen— Commander Ira of the Imperial Fleet . I hesitate.
Ira’s a busy man—no personal communications are allowed while he’s away on a mission, so if he’s calling now, it means he’s back in Imperial space and expecting me to answer.
I stare at the blinking light. Fifi was a champion, one of the best I ever trained—a show pet who never hesitated to please. And now she’s gone.
The beep continues.
I brace myself, then reach out to press “Accept.”
The screen resolves into Ira’s stern face.
“Commander,” I say.
“Aefre, the goddesses have not been good to you. I’ve just seen your report. How could you let Fifi die?”
“It was an unfortunate accident.”
“Aefre, listen to me and listen well. You have eight months to find me a replacement for Fifi.” Ira says exasperated. “How did she die? Did another pet kill her?”
I take a measured breath and try to explain, “She died competing in the Bond Breaker Challenge.”
His gaze sharpens. “Who was meant to save her?”
“Ember.”
A flash of something—contempt, disappointment, or both—crosses Ira’s face. His tone drops, low. “Your favorite male pet chose UCs over his partner in the Bond Breaker Challenge? Explain how that happened?.”
“It was completely unexpected. Ember’s connection to Fifi was genuine. Their bond seemed strong enough to predict self-sacrifice. But, clearly I miscalculated. I made a mistake. I won’t make it again.”
“Tell me every detail of how something like this could have happened. She was a champion. She wasn’t supposed to die this way.”
The Grand Championships are never streamed for security purposes now that the IGC has made the human pet trade illegal. So, I recount the uncomfortable memory from the week before. “The simulated arena was set to level ten for difficulty. Ember and Fifi had just won their third Grand Championships. They were ready. Ember stood at the starting point and at the far end of the course was the artifact. And restrained on a sinking platform in the center, above a pit of toxic mist, was Fifi.”
I pause, the scene replaying vividly in my mind. “I told Ember, ‘Retrieve the artifact in the time allotted, and you win the prize UCs.’
“Ember navigated the course with expertise. All the while, Fifi panicked, struggling to break free from what she knew was certain death. She screamed for him, ‘Don’t leave me! Please!’ First, she used Imperial, and then when she knew death was near, she used her human language. Her desperation echoed through the arena and Ember wasn’t untouched by it.
“He froze in the last minutes, deciding her fate. His face was pale, his heartbeat and breathing registered on his collar as extremely high. He glanced back at her, his expression a mixture of pain and resignation. Then he said, ‘I’m so sorry, Fifi. I can’t.’
“He chose the artifact. And by the Bond Breaker rules we couldn’t save her even for a disqualification. The last we saw of Fifi were her small hands, reaching out, as the toxic mist consumed her,” I say, meeting Ira’s gaze through the transmission. “Ember saw the challenge for what it was—an impossible scenario. He didn’t know that he should have saved Fifi and they both would have lived. He chose to win the artifact and the UCs.”
Ira’s lips press into a thin line. “Humans value bonds. Loyalty. He severed his tie with Fifi without much hesitation. No one wants to see that from human pets. You’ve not trained him as well as you think you have, Aefre.”
I keep my voice even while I defend my work, “Ember is adaptable. Resourceful. Unlike the other human pets, he sees the game for what it is. At the moment, he sees loyalty as a weakness in the long term. I just need to find him a partner that he values more than himself. Fifi was special, but she wasn’t extraordinary. It was Ember who made her so.”
“Well,” Ira says, “I suppose that’s what I’m paying you for, your so-called expertise.”
“That’s exactly what you’re paying me for. Don’t I bring you the best return on human pets in the galaxy? Ember and Fifi won the Grand Championships three times which is why they were able to compete in the Bond Breaker for even more UCs. And we all received the payout from their wins, including Ember’s solo win. So it wasn’t a complete loss,” I say, and leave off, ‘except for my reputation.’
Ira narrows his eyes but doesn’t argue. “ Currently you are still the best pet trainer in the galaxy,” he concedes. “But perhaps Fifi’s death is the start of your decline? You better be careful, in my experience, one misstep is usually followed by others.”
“This was one mistake, and I never make the same mistake twice,” I assure him, though the memory lingers of Ember’s hesitation, his pained expression—those weren’t the signs of a pet without loyalty. They were the signs of someone who understood he had no choice.
“Did Fifi leave any offspring?”
“We have some of her eggs,” I admit carefully. “I was going to sell them.”
“That goes against the goddesses. I don’t want to hear about it,” he snaps, his voice betraying his falseness.
“I’ll find a replacement,” I say. “One that surpasses even Fifi. I just need time.”
“Now, listen here. I’m transferring you two thousand UCs to buy a new pet. I want to win the next Grand Championship at The Celestial Spire. I don’t want to sit a year out. That’s lost UCs on Ember.”
“With all due respect, I don’t think I can train a fresh female pet to win in eight months.” I keep my tone steady, even as my mind races. Training a new human pet for a competition of this caliber in that time frame is nearly impossible.
“You’d better, Aefre, or I’ll invest in another trainer. It was wasteful of you to let Fifi die. Don’t let me down. You have the UCs and eight months.”
“I understand,” I reply, not letting my voice betray my uneasiness with this commitment.
I pride myself on shaping pets to show the best humanity can be, if properly trained. I cannot fail again, but these are impossible odds. Yet my mind is already mulling over what happened between Fifi and Ember for the millionth time. Perhaps it wasn’t what happened, but rather what didn’t happen.
Before I can dwell on it further, Ira interrupts my thoughts. “Good. Now I have to get back to defending the Empire. Not all of us get to play with adorable human pets every day. And Aefre, I want regular holos of my pets training. Stop being so cautious about the IGC. No one is really going to enforce the law about pet shows.” Then he adds as an afterthought, “But send them to me encrypted. Walk with the goddesses.”
His image flashes out as the transmission ends, leaving me alone in the silent glow of my office. I drop my head into my hands. How am I supposed to train a new pet in just eight months? It’s hopeless.
But not entirely unachievable. I trained Fifi’s sister in six months and she managed to win two shows—though neither was as prestigious as the Grand Championship.
I cloak my galactic connection and begin searching for upcoming human auctions. An Octopod group is hosting one at the Abyssal Nexus. These auctions are notoriously unpredictable—Octopods don’t understand human aesthetics. Their interest in humanity is purely biological: incubators for their young and playthings for their tentacles. So, I usually avoid buying from them, but today, I’m desperate.
I activate the comms to my ship’s captain. “Set a course for the Abyssal Nexus.”
The hesitation on the other end lasts only a moment. “Understood,” the captain replies, his voice neutral.
I close the channel, my thoughts already shifting to the task ahead. I need a plan. But just in case I’m overlooking one of the females I already have, I decide to visit all my pets onboard.
When I enter the pet play area, six pairs of human eyes immediately focus on me. Even after all these years, their attentiveness still pleases me. Good humans, every one of them.
I open the door and call for my two favorites. They run to me, dropping to their knees as they’ve been trained. I rest a hand on the first, Mags—forty years under my care and still sharp. Then Ember, my prized male, here for ten years and the most impressive human male I’ve ever owned.
“A new human will be joining us soon,” I tell them, my voice firm but calm. “You must help her adjust. Understand?”
“Understand,” they reply in Imperial, their accents varied but their obedience clear.
“Good humans.” I let a small smile cross my lips. “If you’re very good, there will be a treat later.”
Mags beams at the promise, while Ember nods, his expression steady. I stroke Mags’ fur between her legs and then Ember’s. I stop before either of them becomes too aroused and then I dismiss them, and they run back to play. I linger for a moment, watching them toss a ball back and forth, their laughter echoing faintly.
I look at the other two females. They are the right age and have been trained to the extent of their abilities, but they’re not enough. Not mentally or physically capable for the challenges at the Grand Championships. Those games are designed to push both pets and their trainers to their limits.
I observe my two other females for another minute, to assure myself that I’m not missing something in their potential. But, I’m not. They just aren’t strong enough and Ember would definitely leave either of them to die in the Bond Breaker. I must resign myself to the idea of a new pet.
I open internal communications. “Kaelin, meet me in the conference room. I just spoke to Ira; we have a lot to discuss.”
I see Kaelin in the corridor and we walk together.
“Eight months? That’s insane.”
“I know.” My voice is quieter than I intend, my thoughts already circling around the daunting task ahead. “But Fifi…”
Kaelin studies me for a moment. “Well,” he says finally, “we’ll just have to pray to the goddesses that the Octopods have something special at the auction.”
“I’m sure they will,” I say but I can’t keep the doubt from my voice.
“It’s a pity most body modifications and enhancements are penalized now. A few major adjustments, and we wouldn’t have to rely so heavily on finding raw talent.”
I don’t respond as we make our way down the polished corridors of the ship.
Kaelin matches my pace. “This isn’t your first impossible timeline.”
“No,” I admit. “But this is the first time I’ve had to replace a champion lost during a Bond Breaker Challenge. What happened affected Ember too, even though humans aren’t supposed to remember, some of them do. He remembers and it affects him. And there’s no research on what to do, except some pet experts suggest retiring him.”
Kaelin laughs. “Most human pet experts are charlatans.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you think Ira’s serious about finding another trainer if you fail?”
“I’m sure of it,” I reply. “Ira doesn’t make idle threats.”
The conference room doors slide open with a familiar hiss, and we step inside. The holographic display is already active in the center of the table. I press a few commands, pulling up a profile of the Grand Championship’s arena and the projected timeline for the next eight months.
Kaelin takes a seat across from me. “So, how do we turn an untrained human into a champion in eight months? Assuming the Octopods even have a viable candidate.”
I lean forward, my hands resting on the edge of the table. “We’ll have to maximize every second of her training. Physical conditioning, language acquisition, obstacle courses, Imperial etiquette—it all needs to start immediately. No time for mistakes on our end.”
Kaelin nods. “The obstacle courses will need to be modified before she can begin training with Ember. We can’t throw her into level-ten simulations right away, but she’ll need to be there within four months. That’s going to be tough”
“Even then, Ember will have to bring her up to speed.”
“Do you think he’ll bond with her? After what happened with Fifi?”
“We will use their collars to force it if we have to. He doesn’t have a choice,” I reply firmly. “None of us do.”
Kaelin leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And what if this mystery female is not up to the task? What if the Octopods only have duds?”
“Then I’ll make her up to the task,” I say, my voice hardening. “Or she’ll die in the training. Either way I’ll be able to keep Ira as my sponsor.”
“Would it really be so bad to lose him” Kaelin asks. I know he thinks I should be open to more sponsors, but more sponsors who each provide fewer UCs is more work and more headaches.
“No, then I’d have twenty Ira’s trying to micromanage my training instead of just one.” I turn off the hologram. “Prep a collar and training simulations for integration. And make sure Ember is ready to meet his new partner, don’t hesitate to use mood-influencers. I don’t want him being as angry as he is now when he meets the new female. I don’t want him scaring her. They have to bond. We don’t have time for them to warm up to each other.”
“He’s stubborn by nature,” Kaelin says. “Let me try punishments before mood enhancers. Maybe he needs to fight his grief out with pain?”
I consider this. “Fine, but not too much.”
“I know his limits, Aefre. When you return with the new pet he’ll be ready. Good luck at the auction and walk with the goddesses.”
I don’t believe in the goddesses or fate. I believe in hard work with a tinge of luck. But if I were a religious man, I’d be praying to the goddesses for the perfect human female to appear at this auction.