Page 4 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

With my throat tight from behind the airlock door, I listen closely to the quiet conversation between Mohandas, the administrator, and Mom.

“Chandra, think about it before you turn this down.

Staying on this base in the middle of space with two little girls to take care of, one of whom is really sick, is a huge responsibility.

Now that your husband has passed away, it would make more sense to repatriate you to one of the terraformed worlds.

I'll get us all moved over as soon as I can.”

I can hear Mom sniffling softly. Her breathing's ragged. I'd like to join her and hold her hand to comfort her. But that's a grown-up topic, and Dad always said we should wait until the grown-ups had finished.

Mom always leaves the door to our room open a bit so she can hear if there's any trouble.

It's late, and my sister is already asleep on the bottom bunk.

I can't sleep, though. That's why I've quietly climbed down from my top bunk to check on Mom.

So, here I am, hiding behind the door, spying on their conversation.

“Mohandas, you don't understand”, she replies, sounding upset.

“Roland may be gone, but this base has the best research options to fight the disease that took his life.

There's no way I'm giving up the research that could save my daughter.

Prianka is all I have left, and she's suffering from the same disease as her father!”

“No, Chandra,” he replies softly. “You're responsible for two little girls now. Ileana is your daughter too, since you adopted her ten years ago. You've got to think of her, too.”

“Yeah, I think about her a lot. They're both my darling daughters.

But Ileana is a preteen, and she's got her whole life ahead of her.

Prianka, though two years older, has already started her fateful countdown.

So we're sticking around. You get what I'm saying, right?

If there's any way I can find out here how to beat her disease, it's worth a try, don't you think?”

Mohandas lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his sparse black hair. He's clearly not convinced.

I'm only twelve, but I'm pretty sharp. Mom and Dad have talked about this before, especially recently, when it became clear that the disease was taking over.

He thought his wife might have to give up living on this isolated base in space.

He'd even mentioned that if she ended up being alone, they could move somewhere else.

Roland and Bernard, my birth father, were both French and worked in the world's largest gene therapy research center in Paris. It was there that they met Chandra and Indira, my biological mom, who'd flown in straight from Bangalore, India, to join the research program .

All four were inseparable and deeply committed to overcoming several genetic conditions, such as osteogenesis imperfecta, Roland's syndrome, and Prianka's illness.

When Paris was on the verge of being submerged by rising waters, the researchers had the option to move to another terrestrial center or to BN-35, the space station dedicated to medical research.

They all decided to keep working on BN-35.

Prianka was born just a few months after they arrived.

I came into this world two years later, the result of Bernard and Indira's love.

I don't remember my birth parents. I just have the videos Roland and Chandra showed me.

I was two when they died in an accidental decompression incident on BN-35.

I was taken in by Roland and Chandra, who were already parents to Prianka, my beloved sister at heart, who unfortunately suffers from the same condition as Roland.

Prianka, my adoptive sister and sister in spirit, is the embodiment of kindness and gentleness. Maybe it's out of necessity—who knows? Her condition forbids any kind of exuberance or rough play.

I still vividly remember the time I, caught up in a moment of excitement, jumped on her over something trivial.

The joy on her face instantly turned to horror as she lost her balance.

The sickening crack of her bones echoed through the room as she tried to break her fall.

She screamed in pain, and I was frozen paralyzed by guilt and fear .

We ended up rushing her to the regeneration chamber, but the image of her tear-streaked face and my own helplessness still haunts me.

Mohandas’s voice rang out from the next room, pulling me back to the present.

“I can’t make this decision for you, Chandra.

I understand why you’re searching for a miracle cure for Prianka.

But it’s going to be much harder now that Roland is gone.

Especially since I’m about to hand over my role as base administrator.

I’ve done my time here. Mourad will be taking over my responsibilities soon. ”

“Don’t worry, I’ll manage. I’m sure the new administrator will be just as understanding and supportive as you’ve been.”

“I hope so. But no matter how kind he is, he’s not going to magically turn this base into a place suited for a single woman and her two little girls.”

“I appreciate your concern, truly. But my mind’s made up. I’m staying here until I find a solution for Prianka.”

Mohandas simply nods and walks out of the room.

Mom collapses into a seat, thick tears streaming down her trembling cheeks. I can’t take it anymore—I leave my hiding spot and rush to her side, wrapping my arms around her.

“Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll find a cure for Prianka. I promise I’ll help you every single day.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re too young to carry all this. Maybe Mohandas is right. This base isn’t the right place for two young girls, especially not girls your age. Even if this is where I have the best chance of helping your sister, maybe you’d be better off somewhere else…”

“I’m staying with you!” I cut her off. “No way I’m leaving. I’ll help with Prianka. I’m old enough to make things easier for you. I can watch her when you’re busy in the lab.”

“But you’ve got your studies to worry about.”

“They’re not that hard. I don’t want to give them up, and I don’t have to. I can keep up with my apprenticeship and take care of Prianka. I promise, Mom!”

She looks at me, eyes shining through her tears. “You’re so brilliant. Just like my dear Indira, my cherished friend. I miss her so much. You remind me of her in so many ways. You’re right, sweetheart. The three of us will show them we never give up.”

I smile at her, trying to reassure her, even though I’m not entirely sure myself. But she’s right. We’ll find a way. The three of us, together.

5125, Polaris Year — Ileana, 17 years old

“Do you think Mom’s in love?” my sister asks.

I’ve just come back from the cafeteria with two cups of herbal tea, right after our medical study session. I can’t stand these thyme drinks, but Prianka has to take them regularly, and I drink them with her out of solidarity. Besides, you get used to the slightly bitter taste over time.

“Who are you talking about?” I ask, surprised, as I hand her the cup and sit down in the chair next to hers .

“Well, Henri. The new assistant to Administrator Mourad, of course,” she says in a hushed voice, as if someone might overhear us.

Which is unlikely, since it’s just the two of us.

“Henri? The new guy? But he only started a few weeks ago. How do you know that?”

“You’ve noticed he always stops by to say hello, right? And he shows up at the food court at the same times we do. Plus, he’s pretty good-looking, even if he’s older than she is. I’d say he’s easily over fifty, but he wears it well.”

I glance at her, feeling a little awkward.

I’ve noticed we run into Henri more often than coincidence would suggest. Prianka’s theory makes sense.

Mom’s been a widow for five years now, and she’s still young and beautiful—much more so than Mourad’s assistant, who, if Prianka’s right, must be close to sixty, if not older.

I have mixed feelings about Henri. He’s definitely handsome, with undeniable charisma. He’s always smiling, and his calm, confident voice seems to put everyone at ease. He’s kind and friendly, always trying to help solve people’s problems.

But something about the way Henri looks at me makes me uncomfortable. I’ve caught him more than once eyeing my body with what felt like a predatory gleam. Or maybe I imagined it. Prianka’s probably right—it’s Mom he’s interested in, not me.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I finally reply, shrugging as I take a sip of the steaming tea .

“I’m not surprised,” she says with a teasing smile. “You’re too busy making eyes at Rayan.”

I feel my cheeks flush instantly. Rayan is Mourad’s son—eighteen, handsome, and always polite.

“No,” I protest quickly. “I’m not making eyes at him!”

“Well, maybe it’s the other way around,” she says, grinning. “And I wouldn’t blame him. He’s super cute and sweet. And let’s not forget—he’s the administrator’s son.”

“Who cares about that? I don’t have time for boys anyway.”

Prianka’s beautiful face tightens with frustration. She looks at me for a moment, then gently places her hand on mine.

“You know you don’t have to take care of me all the time, right? You’re allowed to take a little time for yourself. You already do so much.”

“It’s my job to take care of you.”

“No, Ileana, it’s not. Don’t get me wrong—I’m incredibly grateful for everything you do.

I mean it. Whether it’s helping me shower, washing my hair, or bringing me what I need when I’m stuck in this wheelchair.

.. you’re amazing. But you’re my little sister.

I should be the one looking after you, not the other way around. ”

“Prianka, what if I were the one who was sick? Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

“You know I would. But ever since Dad died, you’ve been carrying so much—helping me, helping Mom— and you never take a break. You’re old enough to have a little fun, Ileana.”

“You’re so right! I’m glad you agree,” I say with a mischievous grin.

“That’s why I’ll be picking the next movie for our daily screenings.

You’ve been forcing your romantic comedies on me for years just because you’re the eldest. But now that you’ve admitted I’m old enough to have fun, it’s my turn to choose! ”

She snorts inelegantly before replying, “It’s only natural that, as your older sister, I should be concerned about the quality of what you watch.”

“But like you just said, I deserve to have fun too. And I don’t exactly have a blast watching all those cheesy Bollywood movies you make us sit through every day!”

I get up and grab our empty cups, tossing them into the compactor. Then I walk over to the control panel and activate the wall screen across from our bunks for our daily after-school session.

Now that we’ve wrapped up our study session, it’s officially chill time.

“Gimme the tablet. I’ll find something you’ll like too!” she says, already reaching for the prized device.

“Nope!” I shoot back with a grin. “It’s my turn now.”

“Fine,” she sighs, “but just this once.”

“In your dreams! I’ve got years of cinematic dictatorship to make up for!”

She raises an eyebrow. “What if we take turns—one day each? ”

I just shake my head with a big smile, scrolling through the Confederation’s massive media archive. It’s got every musical, book, and movie ever recorded. Basically, endless options. And sure, I’ve let Prianka rule the screen until now, but a little rebellion never hurt anyone.

“Seventy-five percent me, twenty-five you?” she tries again.

“Not a chance.”

“Fifty-fifty?”

“Deal!” I say, grinning. “But today’s mine!” I tap the screen and start World War Z .

She gasps. “Seriously? A zombie movie? That’s so dumb. Zombies aren’t even real!”

“Oh, right—because Singham is totally realistic?” I tease.

She frowns. I’ve just poked fun at her favorite movie—a classic over-the-top Indian action flick from the early 2000s, full of gravity-defying stunts.

But what she really loves about those films is how they capture Earth before it was nearly wiped out.

They’re like time capsules, snapshots of a world that barely exists anymore.

That’s part of why I usually let her pick.

She sinks deeper into her chair, and we dive into this wild, end-of-the-world story where a virus turns people into zombies.

It’s kind of funny, in a dark way—how people back then imagined the fall of civilization.

They blamed it on some made-up virus instead of facing the truth: their own reckless destruction.

They weren’t totally wrong. Humanity did almost vanish from the planet. Just… not because of zombies .

Our session is suddenly cut short when Mom bursts into our cabin, her face pale and tight with worry.

“There’s been an accident at the administrator’s quarters. A solar cell malfunctioned. Mourad and his son… they didn’t make it.”

Rayan… Rayan is dead? No. No way.

I never told Prianka everything. I’d been seeing Rayan a little more than I let on.

Not much more—after all, I spend nearly every moment with her—but still.

Rayan had a way of showing up exactly where I’d be.

Like clockwork, he’d appear at the base pharmacy every ten days, right when I went to pick up Prianka’s painkillers and bisphosphonate bags.

Or at the cafeteria, when we grabbed our afternoon infusions.

He was always there. Smiling. We’d chat for a few minutes—never long enough—but he was patient, kind. And he made me feel… different.

But now he’s gone.

My teenage heart shatters into a thousand pieces. My first real feelings—cut short by something so brutal, so final.

I’d already imagined us, a few years from now, taking care of sweet Prianka together. I thought we had time. I thought we had a future.

But that dream is gone.

Rayan is dead. Life is so unfair.

How am I supposed to go on without his calm, caring presence? How do I even begin to fill the space he’s left behind?