Chrysalis Corporation

by T. A. Venedicktov

  “Why would the Olympus request it?” Damion sounded confused. “But I’m happy we can escape the Commander’s wrath for a few more hours, even if you need to rest.”

  “Unknown, but my conclusion is that they wish to thank you for your quick thinking and assistance.”

  “I requested it because I wanted to see who was behind the Zodiac who detected the potential threat to my vessel.” A tall, darkly tanned man walked down the catwalk, followed by a small group of personal guards.

  “Uh….” Damion snapped his slack jaw shut and turned to try to salute while attempting to hold Requiem up.

  Requiem forced himself to wake up a little and pushed away from Damion to grab on tightly to the railing behind him, keeping his gaze on the ground. He tried to hide the fact that his whole body was shaking with fatigue and attempted to keep from sliding straight to the ground. Damion needed to stand on his own for this, receiving the attention and singular accolades that went along with it.

  “How did you do it?” the President asked, looking at Damion more than his Core, as was usual.

  “It wasn’t me. My Core is the best on the Zeus. Perhaps in all of Chrysalis Corporation.” Damion lowered his gaze in respect for the man’s position.

  “The Core did detect it, but you were the one who flew us to safety.” The President looked right at Damion and almost through him. It wasn’t a harsh gaze, merely judging, assessing.

  “And it took three others as well. We wouldn’t have been able to do it without the Hermes, Athena, or Dionysus.”

  “The malfunctioning thruster was not an accident. That vapor leak and the shorted-out warning system were both purposeful,” Requiem whispered, his voice pitched only for Damion’s ears. “The President has an enemy on his ship who wishes him harm.”

  “Does he have something to say?” The President frowned as Commander Sandrite entered the walkway and quickly marched up to them on the catwalk, the President’s guard tensing at his angry expression and quick steps.

  “My Core believes it was an assassination attempt,” Damion answered.

  “That’s preposterous,” the Commander growled. “He has no way of knowing if that is true. We are sorry for this Fighter’s rash assumptions.”

  Requiem sighed and took a deep breath, gripping the railing tightly as he forced his body to stand up straight. His gaze was still directed toward the ground, but he was no longer trying to hide himself. “There was evidence of the warning system connected to the rear thrusters being sabotaged. I was required to reroute the circuits so that the alarm would sound. The failure was too clean to be a malfunction—something that I have only seen internally that resulted from cut wires. I suspected and have come to the conclusion that the leak is also the result of a manual disconnect. More than likely a person of ill intent released the lock on the fuel inject site.” He was loud enough now for everyone to hear. He caught himself again as his legs decided they didn’t want to hold his weight anymore and he began to slide toward the ground. Requiem desperately used his arms to hold himself up. “If the Commander suspects that my abilities do not extend that far, I respectfully request that he receives a report from the Creator in charge of my caretaking. She should be able to correct your misinformation.”

  “You impudent little—”

  The Commander flushed with fury, and he might have even raised his fist to Requiem if it hadn’t been for Damion standing between them. The Fighter glared at the Commander, a dark look that made the Commander’s men put hands on their weapons.

  Years of conditioning caused Requiem to wince away from the Commander’s threat.

  “He’s never wrong. He’s the best. Excuse me,” Damion said in a low voice before turning and picking Requiem up under his thin arms, ignoring Requiem’s slight jump of shock.

  Requiem had been concentrating so hard on the potential threat from the Commander that Damion’s movements caught him unaware. Requiem quickly relaxed into the warm arms once he realized it was Damion. Ignoring everyone else, Damion carried him up the ladder and into their Zodiac. “Just rest here.”

  “Is there a problem with the Core?” the President asked calmly from outside the Ares.

  Requiem gently gripped Damion’s arm as he turned to leave him in his chair. “I would suggest telling him the truth. It will not hurt our situation and will discredit the Commander more.”

  “He’s just tired,” Damion answered quickly, loudly enough to be heard through the hatch.

  “These two are nothing but trouble,” the Commander interjected yet again.

  “My Core uses his own body to fuel the Zodiac’s power at times,” Damion explained as he climbed out of the ship. “He’s never been wrong.”

  “So you’re saying that 47 was completely right in killing his previous Fighters in cold blood? How interesting,” Commander Sandrite said.

  In the ship, Requiem closed his eyes and winced as he listened. That, as they said, was not good.

  “It was self-defense since you wanted him dead,” Damion said.

  “I wanted him dead? Is that what you think, you insubordinate asshole? That it’s my fault your broken toy killed those men?” the Commander growled.

  “Gentlemen, please,” President Barlett interrupted. “Whatever may have happened in the past, I owe this Fighter and his Core my life and the life of my crew. If it wasn’t for the Ares’s Fighter, then things might have ended differently.”

  By this time Requiem had pulled himself up to the hatch and was watching from there, clinging onto the edge with one arm, the other out of sight. Inside the ship, his hand wrapped around a wire attached to the gun turrets that had silently turned, aimed toward the Commander without anyone noticing. He didn’t have much more left in him, but he would use the rest of the energy his body contained to protect his Fighter.

  “Sorry, Mr. President.” Damion bowed his head slightly. “I have five more hours of patrol to do, and I should let you go.”

  “Well good luck to you. Safe flying and gentle skies, Fighter. I will make sure to speak with you later, and I know my pilot wishes to have a word with you as well. He’s busy doing repairs at the moment. I thank you again for your assistance.” The President turned to the Commander. “And I believe you have a tour awaiting us, Commander Sandrite. Shall we continue?” His voice was gentle but definitely held some contempt on the outskirts of it. The Commander nodded, and with a final glare toward Damion, he turned and led them away.

  Juni silently walked up behind Damion with 108 hiding in Juni’s shadow. “Damn. You want to be killed?”

  Damion sighed and tugged at his hair with both hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Requiem released the cable he had been holding on to, and it fell to the floor of the Zodiac with an audible thump. “Presently, I believe we have the President’s protection. But when he departs in five days’ time, that will go with him and it is very likely we will be in danger.”

  “Are you okay? What the hell are you doing there?” Damion asked as he looked up at the ship.

  “The Commander is going to demote you at this rate,” Juni said worriedly as he followed Damion’s gaze to the Ares.

  “I was merely preparing, and once the danger had passed, I accidentally let go of the cable. That is all.” Requiem slid back into the Zodiac. Unfortunately his legs had stopped giving him the time of day and he slid straight to the floor. Sighing softly, he leaned against the inner hull. “Luckily, Damion’s scores are on our side. Unless he drops again, the Commander would not be able to demote him.”

  “He’s pretty sure about that, but he could still try to kill you. Anything you can do to help?”

  Requiem heard 108 reply. “Presently I have no suggestions. But I will attempt to think of something.”

  Damion scrambled back into the Ares and helped Requiem into his seat. “You just love to drive me insane.”

  Requiem clung to Damion until he was placed into his seat, sighing in relief as he sagged into the chair. He raised one hand,
running it lightly over Damion’s cheek. “I apologize for causing you so much strife. I do not mean to.”

  “It’s okay. This time it’s my big mouth that has gotten me more notice than you had anticipated.” Damion ruffled the top of Requiem’s head. “You can sleep while we fly around, and I’ll be bored.”

  Juni spoke again. “You did good out there too.”

  Requiem was glad to hear Juni praise 108. “108’s sync was flawless. 491 and 362 had some difficulty, but there was no hesitation. It was quite an excellent connection, and he held it with me. If he had not, it might have fallen apart,” Requiem said softly, his eyes already starting to slide closed. His hand slipped down Damion’s arm to grip his hand, holding it tightly. “I do not like leaving you without a full range observation, but I do not believe I can help you at this time. Please wake me if any anomalies occur.”

  “Yeah, if I see a UFO, I’ll wake you right up.” Damion smiled as he stood up and climbed out again. “I want to burn out and get away from the Commander and everyone for a few hours, but I could use some water.”

  “You don’t want to leave your poor baby alone, huh?” Juni laughed warmly. “All right. I’ll get you your water ration for the ride and be back in five.”

  “Damion, I will be acceptable if you wish to proceed with a break,” Requiem said weakly, struggling to stay awake long enough to depart. “We have a window for takeoff in approximately ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be fine for now. I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Your worry is unfounded.” Requiem mumbled just loud enough for Damion to hear. “No one would bother me while I am in the Ares.”

  “Like hell.” Damion waited outside for Juni to return. After some minutes, Damion spoke again. “Thanks.”

  “The Commander is showing off every nook and cranny. It will take days at this rate.” Juni snickered. “I don’t think the President’s face moves much either.”

  “Damion, two minutes,” Requiem announced, still clinging to wakefulness by the tips of his fingernails. He wouldn’t feel completely safe until they launched.

  “I know.” Damion climbed the ladder and leaned down into the ship to grab his helmet. “Juni, he’s going to be out for a while. Could you please have 108 keep an ear out in case there are any orders from the Commander to send us trouble?”

  “Will do,” Juni replied. “Have a safe patrol.”

  “Are you certain that you do not need me to relay information?” Requiem asked, his eyes still closed, his trails through the systems sluggish.

  “You’re fine, just rest.”

  Requiem dimly heard Damion jump into the pilot’s seat and initiate takeoff protocols with a few taps to the control panels. He called the command center for permission to leave the Zeus and then took off for, hopefully, a quiet five hours.

  Having no choice but to take Damion at his word, Requiem mumbled, “I am sorry,” before letting the darkness take him.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Damion

  DAMION WAS happy to finally be docking, and also to hear that the Commander was still far up the President’s colon and not paying any attention to the Fighters, Damion, and Requiem. He unbuckled and turned to wake Requiem up.

  Even after five hours of sleep, Requiem had difficulty waking up. It took Damion shaking him several times for him to even open his eyes and blink blearily at him. And then another minute or two before he could jack out of the system and sit up, rubbing his face.

  “You’re going to eat and then head right to bed,” Damion grumbled as he helped Requiem down the catwalk.

  While not leaning on Damion as much as before, Requiem held on to him for balance, as he seemed a bit dizzy and groggy from his nap.

  “As you wish,” Requiem mumbled.

  Damion walked him back to their room, helping him sit on the bed before unzipping his flight suit. “Stay here and sleep, in the bed, until I get back.”

  “May I ask where you are going?” Requiem crawled onto the soft mattress.

  “To get food.” Damion smiled warmly. “And something to drink.”

  “Okay.” The exhausted Core was already drifting back to sleep. “Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  Damion left and met up with Juni in the elevator down to the mess hall. The lights within showed the floors flashing by as they plummeted nearly twenty floors.

  “How is he?” Juni asked, leaning up against the wall.

  “Drained to the point of imitating the walking dead.” Damion sighed, attempting to rub the fatigue out of his eyes. “How you doing?”

  “Oh, I’m just peachy. I left 108 in the room keeping an eye on the Commander.”

  Juni paused for a minute as the doors opened, and then they walked out.

  The mess hall corridor was always busy. It was the only place where all the crew from different sections of the massive ship could mingle. No one ever mingled unless they were family, though. Military stuck with military, and science heads stayed with their own kind, as did the civilians.

  “I asked him about the whole ship-draining shit. He’s not sure how it’s done, and I don’t want him learning how to do it. But from his observations, it shouldn’t do 47 any harm. Unless he lets it go too far. And then it’s a possibility that it’ll stop his heart. Just thought you should know.”

  “You mean you don’t want my Core rubbing off on yours?” Damion chuckled softly, but it lacked any true humor. “I actually don’t blame you one bit.”

  “No offense, D. 47 is amazing as a Core, and his abilities… fuck, I still can’t believe some of the shit he can do. But he’s insane in his sanity, if that makes any sense. And he’s willing to do anything to get the results he wants. Even risk death.” Juni shook his head. “No. I’m too fond of 108 to lose him. So no, I don’t want him learning what 47 can do.”

  “No offense taken.” Damion sighed again. “At times I wish he was a bit more normal. It would stop me worrying so damn much. Of course, if he was different then he wouldn’t be so great.”

  Juni shrugged, opening up the mess hall door for his friend. “If he wasn’t who he was, he would still be the Creators’ puppet, 108 would probably be dead, and you and I would still be Beta pilots instead of Alphas. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

  “When did you get smart? Taking 108’s supplements?” Damion teased as they stepped in line.

  Snorting, Juni rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nah, I just got tired of 108 giving me the look. The look that says in no uncertain terms I’m being a dumbass. Let me tell you, for someone who doesn’t have many emotions, that guy can do scathing rather well.” He picked up two trays, handing one to Damion.

  “Really? No offense, but 108 could impersonate a rock.” Damion saw someone looking at them from the catwalk above. “Oh Gods, here too?”

  “He does that to put you in a false sense of security,” Juni replied and then looked at Damion, following his gaze up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can feel the Commander’s squinty eyes anywhere.” Damion lowered his head and hoped not to be noticed. “Does the President really give a damn what we eat?”

  “He would if he tasted this shit,” Juni mumbled, wrinkling his nose at the plate placed on his tray. “I’m not quite sure if this is supposed to be spaghetti or bloody brains. Let’s just get our food and the gruel and get out of here ASAP. You don’t need to be in that asshole’s view any longer than necessary.”

  “I agree with you again. Damn, this has to stop happening.” Damion grabbed his tray and the supplement for Requiem before following Juni out.

  “108 will warn us if they decide to intercept,” Juni said, stepping back into the elevator and hitting the button with his elbow. “You know it isn’t going to stop. It’s only going to get worse once the President leaves.”

  “Yeah, great, and in five days the Creators want Requiem back on the table to dissect, and the Commander wants me replaced.” Damion growled in frustration. “Going to be a shitt
y week.”

  “No, it’s going to be a great week. It’s the weekend that’s gonna suck,” Juni corrected as they stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor. He was silent for a few minutes as they walked. “What are you going to do, D? There ain’t a lot of options, but you know you have my help if you need it.”

  “I don’t want to get you involved, but thanks for being willing to throw your cushy life away.” Damion was only half joking.

  Juni rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up. You know I’d help you in a heartbeat. Shit would get really boring without you here. Besides, if they don’t have you to pick on anymore, who says they won’t come after me? It’s simply self-serving to help you.” He hit the button for the door with his elbow, a really handy body part if your hands were full. “Now go wake up your Core. Maybe cuddle a little. Might do you some good. See ya.” He turned and entered his room.

  “You’re a nosy ass!” Damion shouted after his friend, and then sagged against the wall for a moment. Fuck. What was he going to do?

  As his mind was reeling with ideas, good and bad, he arrived back at their room and put the tray down on the small table. “Requiem?”

  Requiem lay on the bed on his stomach, pressed against the wall, with his arms wrapped around a pillow and his face buried in it. One blue eye opened, blinking blearily at Damion as if he couldn’t focus on him. Inhaling deeply, Requiem sat up, letting the breath out slowly and rubbing his eyes. Luckily, it seemed easier for him to wake up now and he appeared a little more rested.

  “Wow, don’t look so happy.” Damion walked over and helped him stand up. “Let’s get you out of that.”

  A little steadier on his feet, Requiem let Damion remove his rumpled flight suit. “I apologize for resting so long. I did not mean to,” he finally said, his voice hoarse from misuse.

  “It’s all right. If you stopped trying to be a battery, it wouldn’t happen so often.” Damion helped strip his lover out of the suit and then ruffled his hands through Requiem’s soft hair just to make himself feel better.