Whyt’s Plea

A half-swan who sneaks out to become a mechanic wraps her arms around a white swan returning to work at a secret base. Fate, destiny or careful planning?

Whyt has been raised in luxury but craved two things, flight and getting her hands dirty. Her status as a half-swan keeps her from the first, and her mother keeps her from the second. She tries to escape both situations and, as a result, finds life as a test pilot and mechanic.

Styvin Arguat has met Whyt before. He thought she was a shy little ninny. When she breaks out of her family’s home with his help and heads to the research base, he guesses that there may be more to her than even she knows.

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Whyt’s Plea

Copyright © 2013 Viola Grace

ISBN: 978-1-77111-694-7

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Devine Destinies

An imprint of eXtasy Books

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Whyt’s Plea

A Sci-Fi Fairy Tale

By

Viola Grace

It was the third day of the week and that meant begging to go to the flight academy. Whyt made dinner, cleaned the house and sat with her parents for the meal.

“Mother, Father, I would like to ask your permission to attend the Nathrin flight academy.”

Her mother tensed. “I do not think that it is wise, Whyt.”

Her father smiled brightly. “I have come up with an alternative, little feather.”

Whyt’s heart sank. “Yes, Father?”

“I have found a suitable mate for you. You meet him the day after tomorrow.”

Whyt froze. “A mate? I thought I would have a choice in who I wed.”

“There is no time. You are not getting younger.” Tevan smoothed his ivory hair back.

“That is precisely my point. I will be too old to join the Planetary Defense Corp soon.”

Her mother sniffed. “We are not authorizing you to go. You are going to settle down and be a good wife.”

Whyt thought of a thousand things to tell her mother, but what came out of her mouth was, “Yes, Ma’am.”

She sat through the final three courses of dinner and kept her disappointment to herself.

After dessert, she asked to be excused, and when it was granted, she rose to her feet with her robe swirling around her.

Instead of going to her room, she stepped into the library and out onto the balcony. The stars gleamed and glittered above her. The flight school was calling her, but her mother was not going to let her go.

“I thought you would be out here.” Neewin, their housekeeper, crept out onto the balcony.

“Of course I am. Can I ever stop staring at the sky?”

The woman who had been her nanny, her tutor and her confidant put an arm around her shoulders.

“No, you were born to look to the skies, chick. Now, clear off your face and listen closely; tonight, just after moonrise, you need to slip out your window and down to the garden. Run for the south gate, and there will be someone waiting for you. You will get to the flight school, but whether you stay there or not is your own problem.”

The glowing orb was peeking out from behind the mountains. “It looks like I am out of time then.”

“Good girl. Give them hell, chick.” Neewin squeezed her shoulders and left her alone.

Whyt looked at the approaching moon, and she nodded. She would never be able to make it in this robe. This called for a quick change.

She wore a dark brown tunic with a deep hood to conceal her white hair and loose trousers to hide the feather patterns on her legs. Dark slippers covered her feet, and a quick glance out the window showed the moon rising past the horizon. It was time.

Music sounded from the other side of the house, and Whyt knew she wouldn’t get a better opportunity. Her parents were dancing together and would soon be in bed and very distracted. It was time to leave.

The trip out her window was one she had made dozens of times. She moved as fast as she could across the grounds, slipping through the hole in the fence. The person waiting for her was not who she had been expecting.

“Commander Arguat?”

He was wearing dark colours and leaning against one of the newest air skimmers that the Coalition was testing on the surface of Athuuna.

He smiled and settled onto the skimmer, gesturing for her to climb on behind him. It would be five hours of flight clinging to him, but if it got her to Nathrin for the flight school trials, she would do it.

She settled onto the skimmer and placed her hands on his waist. He flicked the controls, and the vehicle rose silently into the air.

The forward movement blew a cool breeze through her clothing. Grimacing, she scooted closer to Arguat and bracketed his thighs with hers. He banked right, and the sudden move forced her to grab at his waist.

When she had first met him, she had pegged him as a jerk, but his agreement to take her to Nathrin overlaid her parents’ attempt at matchmaking and his arrogant attitude that she should be happy to have him.

He pressed a headset into her hand. Once she settled it on her head, she heard, “Running away from another match?”

She wrinkled her nose at his back and debated on how to answer him. She finally settled on, “I am running toward something I have wanted my entire life.”

“You want to be in the military?” His surprise was obvious.

She gritted her teeth. “No. I want to fly. Unlike some of you, I can’t just shift and take off.”

Whyt could feel him jerk in surprise; it was either her comment or her touch.

“You can’t?”

“No. I am a half-breed.”

“But your parents—”

“Don’t like to tell anyone that I was a contract breeding. My mother was unable to have children.” Whyt had all the details, including the knowledge that her birth mother was alive and well in Nathrin.

“So, when you told me to stick my bloodlines in my feathers and fluff them…”

“I had just listened to a lecture on what I owe my forefathers. I told my parents that my genes obviously had other ideas…and then, they sprung you on me.” She chuckled.

“I see. So, my timing was suspect.”

“Very much so.”

“Why did you need my assistance tonight?”

“Because, I want to try to fly at least once in my life. If I waited for them to seal the deal, I would be ground bound and wed to a man who is willing to take orders from my parents.”

Something about not seeing his face made it very easy for her to speak to him.

“I see. Well, I am taking you to the registry office and then to the test base. That should keep your parents guessing for a while.”

“Just like that?”

“You have been authorized as a candidate by Colonel Whisk. You are already assigned to a project. I have no idea why she has such confidence in you, but she does.”

Whyt blinked. She would get to skip cadet training and go straight to work. “I have no idea why she has faith in me.”

It was a small lie. Colonel Whisk was her birth mother. It showed faith in her own genes that she was assigning Whyt to a project, though she might know about Whyt’s parents coming after her and the colonel was trying to buy her time.

“I am sure that she checked out the scores that Neewin submitted to the flight school. Your housekeeper is quite proud of your intelligence.” He seemed confused by it.

“She is also my tutor. She considers herself responsible for my intelligence.”

The sound of his laughter rang through the headset.

She grinned and pressed her forehead to his back. Her one sentence had broken the tension, and now, she was much more comfortable huddling against him for body heat.

They had been underway for ten minutes when he said, “Look.”

She lifted her head and stared at the stars before lowering her gaze to the surroundings. They were a few thousand feet above the valley floor. Light gleamed and glittered on the river that wound through the green, lush fields and stony caverns.

He laughed in the headset. “You looked up first, didn’t you?”

“Yes. It has always been a reflex.”

“I thought as much. You don’t have the look of a woman who keeps her gaze down.”

“I always rejected that lesson. It seemed that everything worth seeing was happening over my head.” Whyt snickered.

“It isn’t a bad reflex, but you must get used to looking under you as well. Enemies can come up from the ground as well as drop from the heavens.” His tone was lecturing, but he was quite animated in his driving. They shimmied around a mountaintop before plunging down a deep valley.

Whyt kept her head to his back as they descended to where the air was not quite so thin, and she muttered. “Keep your eyes on the road, Commander.”

He laughed again but stabilised their transport.

At the two-hour mark, he set the skimmer down. “Take a walk, stretch your legs and do whatever you need to. I have water and a snack here for us.”

Whyt unclenched her hands, flexed them and slid off the skimmer so that her companion could do the same. Her legs wobbled as she walked, but she made it around a stone outcropping to engage in some indelicate stretching that included a lot of squatting.

After her muscles were loose, she realized that a quick pit stop might not be unwarranted, and she returned to the skimmer considerably more relaxed than when she had left it. “Why are you looking under the hood?”

The commander jerked his head up and banged it as if he was surprised to be caught so soon. “There is a fluctuation in the cooling apparatus. It isn’t working properly. We might overheat before we reach Nathrin.”

She sighed. “May I?”

“What do you know about it?”

“Let’s find out. Now, hold that light while I get my bearings.” Whyt stared into the engine bay and noted the magnetic coils, the tubes of fluid and the small tanks that fed them.

The heat problem became apparent immediately, but with Whyt, it always did. “Got it. Just a moment.”

She shifted around to the seat and powered it up for a moment while removing the emergency brake. “Done. Everything will be fine for the rest of the trip.”

He narrowed his ice-green gaze at her. “What was wrong with it?”

She fiddled a little with the placement of the toggles and returned to the open hood. “Oh, just a problem with friction build up. Nothing major.”

“Really? How did you know?”

She smiled up at him and batted her lashes. “Women’s intuition?”

“Why do I think that there is more than intuition behind those eyes?”

“Because, you are not an idiot. You mentioned water?”

He blinked, shook his head and walked to the back of the skimmer. “You had better get used to the taste of these. Rations are included in every survival pack.”

He tossed her one object, waited until she had grasped it and then tossed a second.

She wrinkled her nose at the bag of water; it was going to taste as fresh as it looked, she was sure. Whyt tore the other packet open with her teeth and nibbled at the stick of food-related substance.

“Well, it is exactly as nutritious as it tastes.” He chuckled.

“That is what Neewin says about most vegetables.”

She used her teeth to open the water pouch and washed the taste out of her mouth before taking another bite. If food equaled sleep, this was the last of the rest that she was going to get for the evening.

“Well, you are working through the rations like a champion. You might just survive at the base after all.” Arguat snickered and leaned against the skimmer.

She sighed and stomped over, leaning next to him, using him as a windbreak. “This is not the worst thing I have been served in the last year. I think Neewin was trying to desensitize me, just in case.”

They ate for a while until he asked, “Your father is a pilot?”

“Was. He served his time with my mother going insane back home until he was safely in her clutches again, and he hasn’t been to Nathrin since.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, my mom isn’t a fan of the Defense Corp.”

She chuckled and wadded up the wrappers from her meal. He extended his hand, and she placed the wrappers in it.