by Tristan Vick
When she finally finished materializing, she slammed her fists on the glass. “Evek’dam Gammut baqui’lock!” she cursed. There must have been a backup detector somewhere within the ventilation ducts she hadn’t anticipated. Obviously, she’d triggered it and was flagged as an intruder and teleported instantly into the holding cell directly opposite the one she’d just escaped from.
“And who might you be?” a voice called out from the shadows at the far edge of the room.
Danica Valencia stepped out from the darkness, both arms folded disparagingly across her chest. Her metallic shoulder glinted in the dim lighting of the brig as she glared at the Bre’lal mercenary who was trying to steal her prisoner out from under her nose.
“Major Gaewen Feradorn,” the woman said in an icy tone that revealed her frustration of getting caught.
“Major, did you honestly think I’d idly sit by as you tried to make off with my prisoner? I implanted a genetic tracker in that asshole the first time I pretended to let him seduce me, over a year ago.”
“What?” Zallek asked, realizing that Danica had been working against him from the very beginning. “You tainted me with your filthy mods?” He groaned in disgust. But she merely ignored him and continued on with her interrogation of the major.
“And who, might I ask, contracted you for this mission?”
As a prisoner of war, Gaewen had nothing more to say to Danica other than her name and rank. But as a woman who had watched Danica’s humiliation bout last year, she couldn’t help but be curious about the infamous traitor of the Dagon Empire.
“I recognize you from the games, you know. Did it feel good?” Gaewen asked. “Vindicating yourself and proving to the whole Commonwealth that you weren’t the traitor that you were branded to be? Not many get to regain their honor like that. It must have filled you with an unspeakable satisfaction.”
Danica squinted at the major, uncertain as to where she was going with this. But she allowed the line of questioning, if only out of her own morbid curiosity to follow this rabbit hole wherever it led.
“Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you what you want to know if you tell me what I want to know about who contracted you.”
“Fair enough,” Gaewen replied. She folded her arms and waited for Danica’s reply.
“Even though I won the fight, I can never undo the damage to my reputation. That’s why I have devoted myself so fully to serving Jegra. She’s the only one who has always stood by me, no matter what. When the lies were spread about me, she never believed them. Not for an instant. Instead, she expressed her faith in me. She’s the only person in this whole bleedin’ galaxy who stands up for the innocent. For the helpless. And she may be the last flame bearer of compassion and love in these ever-darkening times. And if I can help her in her fight for peace, love, and acceptance for all, then, well, everything will have been worth it. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes,” replied Gaewen, smiling at Danica with a modicum of admiration. After a short pause, she cleared her throat and said, “As for who hired me, it was Senator Targon Van Morgan.”
Such news was to be expected. Zallek, after all, had found a loophole in the siege and she was certain Senator Targon was going to ally himself with him so as to take full advantage of it. But in order to do so, he couldn’t let his frisky pup off the leash, and was reeling him back in.
What Danica was more interested in, however, was why a woman like this Major Feradorn would agree to work for a man like Senator Targon. She wasn’t Dagon. She had no vested interest in her world or her people’s politics. And there were far better paying gigs than this, siege or no siege.
“So, Major,” asked Danica, stepping closer to the glass of the holding cell, “tell me. What is it that you get out of all of this?”
Gaewen smiled. “A big fat paycheck,” she proudly admitted. It wasn’t any secret. She was in it for the money. Plain and simple. She threw her hands on her hips and then added, “Paying gigs are far and few between these days and every little bit helps.”
“Helps?” Danica asked, her eyebrow rising to the top of her forehead. “With what exactly...are you in some kind of debt?”
“No,” Gaewen laughed. “Helps with fending off the soul-crushing boredom of a galaxy under siege. Besides,” she went on, waving one hand about nonchalantly, “a girl’s gotta eat.”
“And you’d sell out...just like that...for a man like Senator Targon?”
The major shrugged her shoulders, her palms facing upward as if to say it couldn’t be helped. “A job’s a job.”
“In that case, what if I compensate you for your loss of earnings? That way, I get to keep my prisoner, you get your credits, and we all get to go our separate ways in peace.”
Gaewen smiled. “How much were you thinking?”
“How much will it take?” Danica rejoined. If it was too much, she’d just leave the woman in the cell for illegal trespassing and be done with the whole ordeal. But if the sum was reasonable, she’d let her go. After all, Danica knew it was always better to have a freelancer like Gaewen in your pocket than to make an enemy of such a dangerous individual.
By paying her off, the major got to keep her integrity intact. By releasing her, she came into Danica’s debt. Keeping her would only stir up the beehive of her indignation and make it impossible for them to play well together, or for that matter, ever do business with her again.
But, strangely enough, Danica had a good feeling about this woman. She didn’t know why. There was just something about her. Something...endearing.
“Seven million credits ought to be enough to change my mind,” the major said after giving it some thought.
Danica let out a sigh of relief. “Phew,” she said with a laugh, “I honestly expected it was going to be a lot more.”
“I meant to say eight million. So, do we have a deal?” Gaewen asked.
After a few moments, Danica smiled at the green-skin staring back at her from behind the glass partition. Reaching over, she smashed the unlock button and the glass parted, allowing Gaewen to go free. “Deal,” she replied.
“I appreciate that,” Gaewen said. She raised her wrist, her glowing holovid flickering to life. Danica did the same, brought up some funds, and then transferred the credits over to the major with a swipe of her hand.
“Eight million Commonwealth credits, in full.”
“That should cover it,” the major said, smiling pleasantly at having come out on top.
“Hey!” Zallek griped from his cell. “What about me?”
“What about you?” Gaewen asked coldly. She shot him a look that said he was no longer her problem and turned back to Danica. Extending her hand, she looked Danica squarely in the eyes and thanked her. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Danica Valencia.”
Without so much as hesitating, Danica accepted her handshake. The moment Gaewen’s hand slipped into hers, however, she felt the shock.
As a jolt of electricity surged into Danica’s body, she had time to reflect on what a terrible mistake she’d just made. Letting her guard down like that was stupid. And now, she was paying the price for it.
Her eyes rolled back and she dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks. Unable to move, her every muscle seized with electricity, she looked up at the major with an expression of helplessness and betrayal—but most of all fury for being lied to and spurned.
“We...had...a...deal...” Danica managed to snarl through clenched teeth.
Gaewen stepped over Danica’s immobilized body and said, “Once I accept a mission, I complete a mission. It’s nothing personal,” she explained, nodding at her wrist as she referred to their previous transaction, “it’s just business.”
The major went over to Zallek’s cell and opened it for him.
Zallek sauntered out, relieved that things turned out in his favor. “For a moment there, Major Feradorn,” he said, brushing his longish hair back, “you really had me going.”
As he la
ughed like a nervous idiot, she glanced over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes. Without so much as a reply, however, she went over to the weapons rack and fetched him a gun. Tossing it to him she said, “Move it, pretty-boy. We’re wasting precious time.”
With his blaster in hand, he raced out of the brig and out into the corridor. Zallek paused when he saw the sleeping Centurion but, fairly sure it was safe, slowly edged passed it. A few moments later he rounded the bend and his voice echoed down the hall, “Hey, fellas,” followed by two plasma blasts.
Gaewen held back, pausing in the doorway as she looked back one last time to find Danica dragging her half-paralytic body behind her as she clawed her way toward them.
“Thanks for the bonus,” Gaewen said in awe of Danica’s unrelenting resolve. “Maybe we can do it again someday. Until then,” she said in a sweet voice, “parting is such sweet sorrow.”
She blew Danica a kiss and, their business concluded, reached out and slowly drew the heavy metal doors of the prison together. They creaked noisily and then slammed shut with a resounding clank, locking Danica inside. Free to make their escape, Gaewen smiled and passed the sleeping battle Centurion, stepped over the dead guards, and made her way up the spiral staircase.
18
Captain Lianica Blackstar was already lounging in her command chair, sipping a steaming hot cup of Angorian tea when Brei’Alas arrived on the bridge.
“Good morning, Captain,” she greeted Lianica in her usual chipper fashion as she strode by.
“Morning Lieutenant,” replied Lianica, looking at Brei from over the rim of her forest green mug, steam slowly wafting up from it. As Brei glided passed her, she caught a lovely scent of something. “Wait, Lieutenant...is that a new shampoo you’re using?”
“Birtchkum shampoo and body wash,” she replied with a smile. Nothing could ruin her day today. Even with the time travel drama of the past couple of days, she felt livelier than she had in ages.
“Ah, yes. The same kind the empress uses.” When she saw Brei’s face go white, she immediately felt bad. She hadn’t meant to imply Brei was mimicking the empress. “What I mean to say is that it smells lovely. Excellent choice.”
“Thank you, Lianica,” Brei replied. She spun around and continued over to her station.
Lianica raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by Brei’s bold use of informal language. In fact, there wasn’t a moment in all of Brei’Alas’s service that Lianica could remember a time when she hadn’t strictly adhered to rank and protocol. Whatever had gotten into her had emboldened her to the point of having enough confidence to address the captain in the most informal of manners.
“And when we’re on duty, it’s Captain Blackstar, Lieutenant,” Lianica said, blowing on her tea and eyeing Brei with a strict look.
“Right, Captain,” Brei said, blushing. “Sorry, Captain. It won’t happen again.” She bowed respectfully and slunk away, glancing once or twice over her shoulder to make sure Lianica wasn’t still eyeballing her with that evil-eye of hers.
A chime sounded and the comms officer, T’Zera, swiveled around in her seat and informed the captain, “We have an incoming hail. It seems to be originating from sector Alpha Tau. But the communique is too badly scrambled to play.”
Lianica stood up, still cradling her tea in both hands. “Can you clear up the distortion?”
T’Zera swiveled back around, her fingers instantly dancing across the keyboard with agile strokes. “I’ll try.” After a few moments she shook her head in disappointment and then said, “I can’t seem to get a lock on the frequency. Rather, frequencies. There are multiple frequencies, and they’re all interfering with one another.”
Brei’Alas leaned over her shoulder and studied the display. Then she looked at T’Zera and asked, “Do you mind?”
“By all means,” T’Zera said, leaning back in her seat and gesturing for Brei’Alas to take over.
Brei typed in no more than three keys and, just like magic, the communication came in loud and clear.
“What did you do?” T’Zera asked, astonished at how quickly Brei had fixed the garbled message.
“It’s not different frequencies, per se. It’s the same frequency originating from multiple points in time.”
“A spacetime dilation?” Lianica asked out loud, but the question was rhetorical. “What could be causing it?”
Brei looked over at Lianica with a big smile on her face. “I have no idea!” She then cheerfully slipped back into her seat. She may have sat down a little too vigorously, however. Pain shot up from her bottom and she groaned lightly and resituated herself to be more comfortable.
Lianica shot T’Zera a look which seemed to ask, “What has gotten into her?”
T’Zera merely replied with a shrug before returning to her duties. A few minutes later, when the captain wasn’t watching, T’Zera leaned over and whispered in a sing-song voice, “Somebody got some last night. You don’t get that sore unless you gobbled up an entire footlong—if you catch my meaning.”
Brei looked around, cheeks flushing bright pink. “Is it that obvious?”
Both women giggled and T’Zera, keeping her eyes forward, whispered back, “You must have really worn Barrion out, seeing as he’s late for his shift.”
“It wasn’t with Barrion,” Brei let slip. She covered her mouth with both hands then looked over at T’Zera with startled eyes. “Oh, shit.”
“You cheated on Barrion?” T’Zera asked, her eyes large with excitement and her ears perked up with interest. “Tell me everything.”
“I can’t,” Brei replied. She looked away, embarrassed by the fact that she’d already said too much.
“Come on,” T’Zera pleaded. “You have to tell me. You have to tell me before Barrion gets here.”
Just then the doors to the bridge swooshed open and Barrion, late to his shift, stumbled onto the bridge. “Sorry, I’m late, Captain,” he said.
Lianica eyed him with a harsh gaze that put him in his place and then said, “Don’t let it happen again, Lieutenant Commander Barrion.”
“I won’t, ma’am,” he answered with a Dagon salute.
In the middle of a sip of tea, she returned a quick, slightly perturbed salute, and dismissed him with a nod.
As he walked past Brei and T’Zera to man the science console, he leaned over, placing his head between the two women and said, “I had the wildest dream last night, Brei. You and Jegra hooked up in the most epic fling of the century.”
“Ha-ha. Good one,” she said, glancing nervously over at T’Zera whose jaw slowly fell open in revelatory shock.
Once Barrion had sauntered off to his post, Brei glanced at T’Zera only to find her staring at her even more intensely, her mouth agape. “No bleedin’ way,” she said at last.
“Please, don’t tell him,” Brei pleaded.
“No bleedin’ way,” T’Zera repeated, still in shock.
Brei did a double take of her friend’s stunned expression but, seeing that it wasn’t about to change, she turned back to her console and did her best to ignore T’Zera’s incessant gawking.
Lianica raised an eyebrow as her officers seemed to be preoccupied by other matters and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Will someone answer that bloody hail,” she barked.
“Yes, ma’am,” T’Zera said, snapping out of her daze. She tapped a series of buttons and a voice came onto the main comm.
“This is Emperor Rhadamanthus Dakroth. We’re in the Alpha Tau sector. Please lock onto these coordinates and send help. The coordinates are...skrrr...I repeat, we request immediate evac...skrrr...Nephilim flagship has...skrrr...please, tell Jegra...skrrr...just like old times, and I need her to once again...skrrrr...my sorry ass.”
Lieutenant T’Zera looked back at the captain. “I’m afraid that’s all I could get before the message cut out, ma’am.”
She glanced at all the faces of the bridge crew looking at her, waiting for her decision. Although she was loyal to Jegra, the emperor—who�
�d been missing for over a year—was her main priority.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen, attention, please. This mission has just become a rescue op. Lieutenant Brei’Alas, please take us to the Alpha Tau sector, maximum slipstream speed on my command.”
“ETA, six hours and forty-seven minutes,” she informed aloud after inputting the coordinates.
“Hit it,” Lianica said with determination.
The Shard stretched into a long sliver the shape of a loom shuttle, and, in a flash of light, snapped away.
No sooner had they made the jump into the Stream than T’Zera abruptly sprang to her feet and practically shouted, “Bathroom break!” She reached down and grabbed Brei by her arm and hoisted her to her feet. “Lieutenant Brei’Alas has to go too.”
“I do?” Brei asked, looking around the room with a perplexed look.
“Yes,” T’Zera said, dragging her friend behind her, “you do.”
After some girl talk, Brei and T’Zera returned to the bridge giggling. They both hurried back to their stations and T’Zera relieved Barrion, who was in her seat.
“Both of you, my ready room. Now!” Lianica barked, storming off ahead of Brei and T’Zera.
T’Zera gulped and Brei shot her a worried look. “Get ready for the dressing down of your lifetime.”
“No regrets,” T’Zera said.
They both rose to their feet and followed the captain into the adjoining ready room.
The moment the sliding doors had shut behind them, Lianica whipped around and glared at the two women who stood at attention.
“I don’t know what is so important as to distract two of my finest bridge officers to the point of negligence, but it ends here and now. If you don’t want me to write up a formal reprimand, I suggest you shelve whatever is going on here and get back to focusing on your jobs. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.
“Dismissed,” she snapped and pointed them toward the door, urging them to see themselves out.