CXI
The thorn‑skinned officer moved with a kind of quiet authority, her green skin catching the light in soft glints as she approached each of us. I sat up fully now, still a little shaky, still wearing the stabilizing glasses, but able to focus again. The parade ground had settled into disciplined silence—cadets standing in neat rows, squads waiting for their turn, the hum of the imprinting machinery vibrating faintly through the air.
She lifted her wrist and tapped her bracelet against the pad in my hands.
A soft pulse traveled through the device.
My designated name appeared instantly—first in Miridani's angular script, then translated into my native tongue beneath it. Seeing it written out made my stomach flip. It wasn't my Earth name. It wasn't anything I'd ever been called before. It felt strange, foreign, ceremonial.
The elfin officer spoke loudly enough for the squad to hear. "Your home planet and system names will only be used once you graduate your course. During training and on school grounds, only your designated names will be used."
I swallowed, staring at the glowing letters.
A new identity.
The thorn‑skinned officer moved down the line, tapping her bracelet to each pad. Every cadet's face lit up with surprise, curiosity, pride, or confusion as their new names appeared.
Atta giggled when hers flashed.
Rawl accepted his with a solemn nod.
Yoyo's leaves rustled in approval.
Daryll's shadow curled smugly as his designation appeared—he looked far too pleased with himself.
Then Rawl stepped forward again, shoulders squared, voice carrying across the parade ground.
"My name is Rawl Darken, designated Leader of Squad Seventeen. My designation is Leader Twice Dark"
He looked every bit the soldier he claimed to be.
Then the thorn‑skinned officer called me.
I stepped forward, still feeling the faint echo of the resonance episode in my bones.
"Vice Leader," she announced, tapping my pad once more to finalize the imprint. "Captain‑track cadet."
The badge on my chest felt heavier now—like it meant something more than metal.
Rawl glanced at me, amber eyes steady. "I look forward to serving with you."
I nodded, trying not to wobble. "Same."
Behind us, the rest of Squad Seventeen shifted with excitement—twenty cadets from half a dozen worlds, all bound together under two officers who had volunteered for this assignment long before we arrived.
My designated name glowed on the pad.
It didn't feel like mine yet.
But it would.
The thorn‑skinned officer moved down the line, tapping her bracelet to each pad. Every cadet's face lit up with surprise, curiosity, pride, or confusion as their new names appeared.
Atta giggled when hers flashed.
Rawl accepted his with a solemn nod.
Yoyo's leaves rustled in approval.
Daryll's shadow curled smugly as his designation appeared—he looked far too pleased with himself.
Then Rawl stepped forward again, shoulders squared, voice carrying across the parade ground.
"My name is Twice Dark, designated Leader of Squad Seventeen."
He looked every bit the soldier he claimed to be.
Then the thorn‑skinned officer called me.
The badge on my chest felt heavier now—like it meant something more than metal.
Rawl glanced at me, amber eyes steady. "I look forward to serving with you."
I nodded, trying not to wobble. "Same."
Behind us, the rest of Squad Seventeen shifted with excitement—twenty cadets from half a dozen worlds, all bound together under two officers who had volunteered for this assignment long before we arrived.
My designated name glowed on the pad.
It didn't feel like mine yet.
But it would.
Yoyo lifted her pad, leaves rustling with excitement as her designation flashed across the screen. Her fronds glowed a soft pink in response.
"Shadow Blood," she announced, voice gentle but proud.
It suited her—mysterious, bioluminescent, half‑medic, half‑guardian. Her species always had poetic names, but this one carried weight. A healer with a name that sounded like a warning. Or a promise.
Atta bounced on her toes next, tail flicking wildly as her pad lit up.
"Thousand Scratches!" she squealed.
Of course it was. She was tiny, fast, mischievous, and had already pounced on three people today. The name fit her like a glove. She scratched everything—walls, furniture, her cousin, Daryll's shadow, even her own bedpost. It was affectionate chaos wrapped in stripes.
She leaned toward me, whispering conspiratorially, "It's a compliment on Scarrash. It means I'm fierce."
Rawl—Leader Twice Dark—snorted softly, clearly amused but trying to maintain his stoic soldier composure.
And Daryll, of course, looked far too pleased with himself when his designation appeared—his shadow curling smugly around his feet.
The thorn‑skinned officer stepped back once everyone had their names, her voice ringing across the parade ground.
"These are your identities on Miridani. Wear them with pride. You are Squad Seventeen—special‑track, anomaly‑compatible, dimensional‑hopper candidates."
My pad vibrated softly in my hand.
Vice Leader. Captain‑track.
I looked at the squad—my squad—and felt the weight of the moment settle into my bones. The names weren't just labels. They were the beginning of who we were becoming together.
Leader Twice Dark glanced at me, amber eyes steady.
"We'll make a good team," he said.
And for the first time since arriving on Miridani, I believed it.
I walked up to the Unit Head still clutching my pad, the stabilizing glasses making the world dim and steady. My designation glowed on the screen, but something about it bothered me.
"Why only Vice Leader?" I asked, voice low. "It says Vice‑Leader and… something I can't read."
The thorn‑skinned officer turned toward me, her crystalline eyes softening. She tapped her bracelet lightly against my pad again, bringing the untranslated portion into clearer focus.
"It says Helianthus," she explained. "Turning toward the sun."
I blinked. The word felt ancient, ceremonial, almost mythic. Not a rank. Not a number. A title.
Daryll stepped up beside me, shadow curling around his feet in a lazy swirl. He smiled—amused, warm, a little smug.
"On our world," he said, "it means Sunflower."
I stared at him.
"Sunflower?"
He nodded, eyes bright with mischief. "A being who turns toward light. Toward hope. Toward the future. It's a compliment, darling."
The elfin officer added gently, "Helianthus is a designation reserved for stabilizers with high resonance potential. It marks you as someone who adapts quickly, someone who aligns others, someone who brings balance."
A squad of twenty. A future crew.
And me—Helianthus—turning toward the sun even in a world whose gravity tried to pull me down.
Daryll nudged my shoulder lightly. "It suits you."
For the first time since arriving on Miridani, I didn't argue.
Daryll leaned in close enough that I could feel the warmth of him even through the stabilizing glasses. His breath brushed my ear, and his voice dropped into that low, teasing register he used when he wanted to fluster me.
"I'm calling you my Sunshine," he murmured. "Or Sunny."
I groaned. "Don't you dare."
He chuckled—deep, delighted, absolutely unrepentant.
"Alright then," he said, straightening with mock seriousness. "I'll call you by your designation."
He tapped his pad, where his own name glowed in elegant Miridani script.
"Diamond Knight," he announced proudly.
Then he leaned back toward me, grin stretching wide, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"I'm calling you Sparklebutt."
I stared at him.
He growled at me—playful, theatrical, the kind of growl that wasn't meant to intimidate anyone. His shadow puffed up like it was trying to look fierce, but he was grinning like an absolute idiot.
"Sparklebutt," he repeated, savoring it.
Rawl, Leader Twice Dark, turned his head just enough to give Daryll a long, unimpressed stare.
Atta snorted so loudly she startled herself.
Yoyo's leaves rustled in what I suspected was laughter.
I pressed a hand over my face. "Please stop talking."
Daryll slung an arm around my shoulders, smug as a cat who'd stolen a sunbeam.
"Never," he said. "Sunny Sparklebutt. My favorite combination."
I shoved him lightly, but even through the lingering dizziness, I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my mouth.
Because somehow—despite the resonance attack, the new identity, the gravity, the chaos—Daryll's ridiculous teasing made everything feel a little less overwhelming.
A little more like home.
Daryll leaned in close, voice dropping into that low, dramatic whisper he thought made him sound suave.
"Come on, baby… call me your Knight."
He said it with that same theatrical flourish he used for everything, like he was onstage under a spotlight only he could see.
I didn't indulge him.
I didn't have to.
Because the moment he said it, Rawl's ear flicked, Atta snorted, and Yoyo's leaves rustled in what was absolutely laughter. Even the elfin officer's mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.
I nudged Daryll's shoulder, keeping the tone light and playful without crossing any lines.
"You're already designated Diamond Knight," I said. "Isn't that enough?"
He huffed—half‑growl, half‑laugh—shadow curling around his feet like it was embarrassed for him.
"You're impossible," he muttered, still grinning like he'd won something.
Leader Twice Dark cleared his throat, clearly trying to restore order, but his whiskers were twitching with amusement.
The thorn‑skinned officer stepped forward again, tapping her bracelet to finalize the last of the designations. "Save the theatrics for training exercises," she said dryly.
Daryll straightened, pretending to be serious.
But when he glanced at me again, his eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Sunny Helianthus," he said softly, "you're stuck with me."
The last badge clicked into place, the final name flickered across a pad, and the thorn‑skinned officer lifted her voice over the entire parade ground.
"Alright! Dismissed!"
The sound cracked through the air like a whip. Every squad jolted into motion—some relaxing, some stretching, some immediately breaking into chatter. The officers' barrier dissolved, the hum of the imprinting machinery faded, and the heavy Miridani gravity settled over us again like a thick blanket.
"Outdoor night training classes start on this field tonight!" the elfin officer called out. "Gather for registration!"
His voice carried easily, calm but commanding.
"Everyone else, fall out!"
The mass of cadets began to disperse—hundreds of bodies, dozens of species, a swirl of colors and languages. The field emptied in waves, leaving only the squads scheduled for night training.
Our squad.
Squad Seventeen.
Leader Twice Dark stood tall, already slipping into his role with practiced ease. His amber eyes swept over us, counting, assessing, making sure no one wandered off. His tail flicked once—approval, readiness.
I stood beside him, still wearing the stabilizing glasses, still feeling the faint echo of the resonance episode in my bones. But I was upright. I was steady. I was Vice Leader Helianthus.
Daryll bumped my shoulder lightly, shadow curling around my feet like a lazy cat. "Sunny Sparklebutt," he murmured, "night training is going to be fun."
I groaned, but the corner of my mouth tugged upward anyway.
Atta bounced in place, tail swishing. "Night training means glow‑beasts! And stealth drills! And running in the dark!"
Yoyo's leaves rustled with excitement. "And medical observation. I will monitor everyone's vitals."
The fox‑soldier Night Prowl stretched like he was warming up for a hunt.
Stone Roar cracked his knuckles, the sound like boulders shifting.
Emerald Coil adjusted her gear with calm precision.
Glass Pulse drifted upward, bioluminescent tendrils shimmering.
Leader Twice Dark looked at me again, steady and sure.
"Vice Leader," he said, "let's gather the squad."
I nodded, feeling the weight of the badge on my chest—and the weight of the future settling into place.
Night training was about to begin.
And Squad Seventeen was ready.