Earth Unaware (First Formic War)

anything less than honorable was an egregious insult. It was the vilest and most cruel thing Toron could say, especially considering how pained and guilty he knew Victor must be because of Janda.
    But of course Toron knew the accusation was baseless. He knew Victor was only helping, that Victor’s intentions were purely supportive and protective of the family. That wasn’t his reason for lashing out. He was angry because his eldest daughter was gone and his second daughter had sought counsel with the very person who had lost him the first.
    Victor kept his voice calm. “Alejandra leaving has nothing to do with this, Toron.”
    The shove to the chest happened fast, and since Victor wasn’t rooted to the floor with greaves like Toron, the force of it pushed Victor back twenty feet. His back slammed into one of the big air tanks, and the metallic clang of the impact reverberated through the cargo bay. It didn’t hurt terribly, but it shocked Victor and immediately got his blood up. He reoriented himself, switched on his greaves, and let his feet lock to the floor. When he lifted his head, he could see that Toron was just as surprised as Victor was. He hadn’t meant the shove to be so hard, and he certainly hadn’t intended for Victor to fly back as he had. But then Toron’s expression darkened and he pointed a finger.
    “Never speak the name of my daughter again.”
    Toron turned off his greaves and launched upward toward the hatch. A moment later he was gone. Victor stood erect and stretched his back. He’d get a bad bruise at the most, but it could have been worse. Had he landed wrong he could have broken something. Edimar was right to fear her father. Victor doubted that Toron had ever been violent toward his family—Janda would have told him if such a thing had ever happened, and it would be impossible to keep it a secret on the ship. Yet Toron clearly had the inclination.
    Victor wanted to feel angry. He wanted the kindling fire of rage within him to flare up and spur him to find Toron, to confront him, to grab him by the arms and shake the pride and haughtiness and spite right out of him. The ache in his back demanded it. But whatever flames there were within him were extinguished by sympathy and shame.
    *   *   *
    The Council met on the helm after the young ones had all been put to bed. Everyone wore greaves, and as they gathered they spoke quietly, trying to garner whatever information they could from the others about the purpose of the meeting. Victor had come early and found a corner in the back of the room where the lighting was dimmer and the shadows more pronounced. He wouldn’t be invisible, but he’d go unnoticed by some.
    It felt odd to be in attendance, partially because this was a side of the family Victor had never seen before, but also because he couldn’t shake the thought that the last time the Council had met they had been discussing him and Janda. It left him feeling awkward. What’s more, he had no reason for being here. The near-lightspeed ship was Edimar’s find, not his. He had nothing to contribute.
    Mother and Father arrived. They saw Victor and came to him. Mother looked concerned. “What’s this all about, Vico?”
    “The Eye detected something,” said Victor. “I only know about it because Edimar showed me. Toron will explain everything, I’m sure.”
    She put a hand on his arm. “How are you?”
    It was her way of asking about how he was dealing with Janda leaving. “Fine, Mother. It’s been a long day.”
    To everyone else, Mother was Rena. Her original clan was from Argentina, and Victor had seen them only once as a child when El Cavador had linked with their ship for a zogging of Victor’s cousin. The experience had instilled in him a sense of awe for Mother. She had left a vibrant, loving family behind to join El Cavador and marry Father, and it must have taken incredible courage.
    “I heard about the drill stabilizer,” said Father, smiling. “When were you going to tell me about that one?”
    “I wasn’t sure it would work,” said Victor. “I’ll need your help refining it.”
    “From the way Marco was gushing about it,” said Father, “I don’t know that it needs much refining.”
    Father’s given name was Segundo, which meant “second” in Spanish. His parents had given him the name because he was their second child, and Victor had always found the name a little cruel. Who slaps a number on their child? Numbers were for livestock.