Triorion Omnibus

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Triorion Omnibus Page 40

by L. J. Hachmeister


  Focus, he told himself. This wasn’t the time to get greedy or sappy.

  “Hey Mom, we got a little problem. Looks like Billy Don’t got into the freezer again and made the food canisters explode,” Reht whispered in his ear, jabbing his thumb back toward the galley.

  Mom shot up and bolted toward the galley with his claws fully exposed.

  “I love messing with him,” the captain chortled.

  Reht moved to sit between the twins as Jetta rotated the view of the outer hull. “Beauty of a ship, ain’t she?”

  “A beta class cruiser equipped with highly illegal weaponry, a shield capacity that maxes out the reflux port—something like that is meant for a star-class warship, not a standard cruiser—an outdated emergency life support system and sanitation management, and an engine that belongs on an intergalactic starrunner,” Jaeia said with a raised brow. “It doesn’t make sense. If I had to guess, I’d say you left out a few select details.”

  “Look, most of it is in Tech’s head. And the bottom line is, I fix never to be in a fix.” Reht smiled, revealing his long incisors.

  “All of the ship’s resources are tapped out by the engine and weapons systems. At least that explains why the temp is sub-arctic in here. And your sanitation management is completely useless. What do you do, piss out the window?” Jetta asked, wrapping the civvy coat she had borrowed more tightly around her chest.

  Reht just chuckled and slapped her on the shoulder. “Come on, little lady, you gotta see the beauty of this Betty. She flies faster than any other ship in the galaxy, and no one can outgun her. We’ve never needed advanced life support in the decade I’ve been in the business, and in terms of the temps and sanitation—well, this ain’t a luxury cruiser. You gotta do your business in the jackbox,” Reht said.

  “I’d rather piss out the window,” Jetta muttered.

  “So what are our jobs on this ship?” Jaeia asked quietly as she shut down the projector.

  The room darkened when the hologram terminated, making it so Reht could barely see the whites of their eyes. “You don’t sound too enthused about our little operation,” he said, scratching the scruff on his chin as he leaned back against the wall.

  Jaeia shrugged her shoulders, looking away from her sister. “I feel like we’re running away.”

  Reht snorted. This is going to be easier than I thought. He didn’t know Rai Shar like the Alliance chumps, but he knew plenty about the art of gorsh-shit, and believing in it enough to fool even himself. “Well, of course you are. I thought you were smart, launnie.”

  Jetta’s hands turned to fists. “Watch your mouth.”

  “Hey, I’m the captain!” Reht said, slamming his hand down on the console. Jetta didn’t move, but Jaeia jumped a little bit.

  “Now, where were we?” he said, drawing a smoke from his pocket and lighting it with the same hand. “You,” Jagger said, pointing to Jaeia and blowing out his smoke. “Do you always do what your sister wants? This was her idea, wasn’t it?”

  Seeing the flicker of frustration in her eyes, he knew he’d struck a chord. It was obvious to anyone that Jetta was the leader, the pushy one, but a sharp eye like his could spot the mounting friction between them. Jaeia was strong in her own right, and with a little support she would push back against her sister’s will.

  Jaeia’s my ticket, he thought greedily.

  “What the hell, Jagger?” Jetta said. “We’re both here, aren’t we?”

  “She ain’t,” Jagger said, pointing his smoke at Jaeia. “She don’t believe in this.”

  Jetta took a hard look at her sister. Reht didn’t know how telepathy worked, but by the way their eyes locked and their bodies swayed in unison, he knew they were exchanging thoughts.

  “Hey, keep it here, ladies.”

  Jetta looked back at him. “You don’t care about us. This is all about your payout.”

  “Pretty much. I lost my Healer saving your assinos. She suited up with the other side. Seems to think there’s something worth fighting for. So you owe me everything.”

  Jetta looked surprised. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because she knows that this isn’t something you can run from, Jetta,” Jaeia said. Jetta looked like she was going to hit her sister.

  This is too easy—

  “It’s a bunch of gorsh-shit,” Reht said. “The military will do anything to spin a tale, keep their best players in check, and believe me, Triel’s one of their best players. A Healer in these times? She’s the only one. She can save all their pruny old asses from bruises, bullets, venereal disease—whatever. Even you two—you’re their best commanders. Hell, you’re the greatest commanders in the history of this galaxy. Your medals are bigger than my chakking balls. So yeah, they’d try anything to keep you, too. My Starfox, Gods love her, is a sucker for sob stories. Believed all their gorsh-shit about them Deadwalkers.”

  “It’s not gorsh-shit,” Jaeia said, voice quivering. “None of it is. It’s just really hard to—”

  “Shut up!” Jetta said, standing abruptly. “Don’t say it. Don’t!”

  Jaeia looked at her. “I can’t fight you, Jetta. You’re stronger than me. You’re so much louder in my head. But the Deadwalkers are real, and what happened to us is real. We can’t run from it.”

  “Then why the hell did you follow me? If you’re so sure of it, why don’t you go fight him then? Better yet, why don’t you get inside my head and make me do it?” Jetta screamed.

  Jaeia looked like she wanted to say something, but instead broke into tears. She got up and left, slamming the door behind her.

  “She ain’t gonna last a minute in this suit,” Jagger chuckled. “She doesn’t have balls like you. It’s kill or be killed out here. You can’t have mercy, can’t have a heart.”

  Mumbling to herself, Jetta absently wiped the cold sweat breaking out across her brow.

  Stay cool, he reminded himself. You’re not quite there yet.

  “Look, kid, in this crew we all got something. You’re gonna have to tell your sister that. There ain’t one of us that don’t have a past. There’s booze, there’s assino, there’s drugs—they take some of the pain away, but not all of it. She’s gonna have to put it behind her.”

  “You can’t put something like this behind you,” Jetta said, looking at him contemptuously.

  “Come on,” Jagger said, blowing smoke into her face. “I risked a lot to save your assinos. If you tell me it was wrong, I’ll slit your throat right now and be done with it. But I lost my Healer to the Alliance because of you. You’d better make something of yourself and set things straight with your sister, because I expect high returns.”

  She could have killed him—easily—but he knew that she was smart enough to respect his sacrifice.

  Arms hanging limply at her sides, Jetta plopped back down. “Set my sister straight,” she said, laughing weakly. Any other words she meant to say died at her lips.

  “I’m getting some chow. Get your assino in gear in an hour. You’re gonna have your first shift.”

  Playing the sister card played off. When he glanced back and saw her staring out into the starlit blackness of space with tears streaking her face, he knew he had gotten to her—or, at least, he hoped he had.

  HOW AM I EVER GOING to confront Jetta?

  The question weighed heavily on Jaeia’s heart. Her whole life she had succumbed to her sister’s will, acting as her passive moral compass, but this time she had to find a way to stand her ground.

  Wiping the tears from her eyes, Jaeia slunk out of the steamy sump room. She jumped back and yelped when she saw the engineer hanging from the pipes along the ceiling.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Tech said, swinging down and landing on the catwalk. “Hey—you okay?”

  “Y-yeah. Sumps check out,” Jaeia said, and picked up her pace so he wouldn’t see her tears.

  “Thanks!” the mechanic shouted proudly as she hurried away.

  Swallowing her fear, she reached
out to find Jetta. Her sister’s mind was closed up tight, just like it normally was when she wrestled with her emotions. But even though Jetta had cut her off from her thoughts, Jaeia could still sense her presence, and using that connection, navigated through the ship to one of the aft storage rooms.

  When she opened the door she shuddered at the smell; apparently this was where the dog-soldiers had crammed all their useless garbage. Jaeia waded through the piles of junk toward a group of unlabeled barrels. She wavered a moment, thinking about the potential toxicity of whatever simmered inside, but she finally slid behind them and joined her sister, who had wedged herself in the corner.

  “What are you doing in here?” Jaeia asked.

  “You’re right. We’re running away. We can’t run away. We’ll never be fast enough.”

  Jaeia put an arm around her sister and hugged her tightly. Surprisingly, Jetta let her.

  “There aren’t too many people I love in this world. Jaeia, if the Deadwalkers got you, too—I’d—I’d—” Sharp, racking sobs broke off Jetta’s words. Jaeia hugged her more tightly as tears squeezed from her own eyes.

  “We have to go back,” Jetta finally whispered, using the back of her sleeve to wipe her nose and eyes.

  “What made you change your mind?”

  Jetta shivered. “You. I have to do something right, don’t I? I mean, everything and anyone I’ve ever tried to help—even you—I’ve always ended up hurting. And maybe that’s because I’ve been wrong. Maybe this whole time, I should have been listening to you.”

  After staring at her sister for a moment, Jaeia found herself blinking back grateful tears. She had despaired of Jetta ever having that kind of trust in her. “So you’ll go back to the Alliance with me?”

  “If you think that’s right. I mean, we can’t do much of anything in this box of meitka,” Jetta said, looking at her squarely. “But you have to promise me something.”

  “Okay,” Jaeia whispered, suddenly frightened.

  “Don’t ever use your talents on me again. What you did to me in the admiral’s quarters—what you’ve done to me in the past to make me do what you want—just don’t. I’ll never trust you again.”

  Given that Jetta’s behavior had only been getting worse, and that her second voice was her only recourse against her much stronger sister, Jaeia didn’t think she could make that promise, but the intensity in Jetta’s eyes left her no other choice. “Okay, Jetta.”

  Jaeia rested her head on her sister’s knees and tried to change the subject to something more positive. “Hey, I have to tell you something. It’s a secret.”

  Jetta tilted her head. “Oh yeah?”

  “The other Exiles—Senka, the Grand Oblin, Rawyll, and Crissn—they’re okay.”

  “What?! What do you mean? How did you...?”

  Jaeia fiddled with her sleeves and sported an uncertain smile. “The flash transport device—I used it to store them just before we left. I tried to take Dinjin even though he’d been killed, but I passed out before I could store his biomemory.”

  “Flash transport?” Jetta repeated. Jaeia opened her mind to her, and Jetta retrieved the information. “My Gods—that’s what they were fighting about. That’s why they needed us. That’s why...”

  Jetta’s eyes went glassy, and Jaeia felt her pang of shame.

  “They really weren’t that bad, were they?”

  Jaeia cupped her sister’s cheek in her hand. “Jetta, you’re okay. You saved us from the Prigs, and I stowed away the Exiles.”

  “Well, where’s the device?”

  Jaeia leaned back a little. “Hopefully safe. I think the Healer took it; I can kind of remember telling her about it when I was waking up. I’m not sure what she did with it, but I don’t want to rat her out to the Alliance.”

  “Why not?”

  Jaeia crossed her arms across her chest. “Just a feeling, really.”

  To herself, she wondered: Why am I so trusting?

  “Jaeia—”

  “Let me deal with it, okay? It’s not like with all this going on anybody will be able to help get them out right now anyway.”

  Jetta nodded absently, locked in some internal struggle. “Jaeia,” she began, but couldn’t seem to find words.

  “Can you show me?” Jaeia said, pointing to her forehead.

  “No...” She opened her mouth, shut it, and shook her head. “No.”

  Jaeia bit her tongue and let it go for now. Maybe she’ll open up to me later.

  (She would have told Jahx.)

  The thought was fleeting, but the bitterness that lingered was hard to swallow. Jaeia closed her eyes. Ever since Jetta’s psionic attack in the caves she had been having a harder time keeping herself in check.

  “Well, we should tell Reht, right?” she said, sliding out.

  “He’s gonna be pissed.”

  “Nah. We can deal with the Alliance, tell them we won’t negotiate with them unless they pay off the dog-soldiers. I think Reht will be okay if there’s money exchanged.”

  “Wow,” Jetta said, laughing. “When did you become such a diplomat?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve gained plenty of experience dealing with your crap.”

  “Very funny, Jae,” Jetta said, crossing her arms.

  Jaeia grinned and scooted her way out from behind the protection of the barrels.

  “Jaeia, wait,” Jetta called. Her green eyes pled with her silently, but Jaeia couldn’t tell what she wanted. “Never mind.”

  Jaeia walked out, unsure of what just happened and less sure of what she was feeling.

  When the next battle comes, can I trust Jetta to do the right thing?

  Fear gripped her heart. The more important question burned brightly in her mind: Can I trust myself to handle us both?

  “I GOT YOU TWO COMMANDERS,” Reht chuckled. “So I figure you owe me a million in hard cash and one Healer.”

  “That wasn’t the agreement.”

  “You thought I’d just let your fat assinos walk all over me?”

  The admiral’s eyes narrowed. “Just whose side are you on, Jagger?”

  Reht played with the bandages on his hands, a wide grin cutting across his face. He always believed in “insurance policies” against his employers, so a few years back he paid Sebbs a year’s supply of methoc to learn about his former schoolmate’s activity with the USC. He had been saving his ace in the hole for quite some time now, and the sweet moment had arrived to lay down his hand.

  “Awh, Damon—it hurts me that you’d think so poorly of my motives. But, on that note—if you try and stiff me, I’ll make sure the twins find out about your personal history mind-chakking little kiddos. I wouldn’t want to be there when they find out your dirty little secret.”

  Outside interference made Unipoesa’s image fluctuate for a moment, but Reht could have sworn it was his temper.

  “You think this is a game, Jagger, even now?”

  “Awww, Damon—nothin’s free in this universe. ‘Sides, we both get what we want—I get some play money, my darling Starfox, and you get your elite commanders. Fair trade and everybody’s happy.”

  “Get them back here, Jagger—now,” the Admiral said, voice strident and tight.

  “And my payment?”

  “Oh, you’ll get yours, believe me.”

  OVER A FOUR-WAY INTERCONFERENCE, Damon Unipoesa watched his former protégé throw a fit.

  “Stand down? You want that washout to take the helm?” Li screamed, throwing a datapad across the battle bridge. “The Deadwalkers are slowing their advance. In another eight hours we’ll—“

  “—lose all of Xeith. Urusous, you are on temporary hold from duty,” Minister Razar said.

  “This is insanity!” Li jabbed his finger at the blue and black image of the chancellor on the holosim conference display. “Have the Deadwalkers rewired your brain, Reamon? Unipoesa is a burnout!”

  “Stand down, Li, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Unipoesa replied calmly. He ran a hand across h
is mouth to stifle what he really wanted to say. “You don’t want to have the guards take you down to your own brig, would you?”

  Chancellor Reamon looked around at them nervously. Unipoesa’s heart sank. Li was not stupid; he would pick up on the lack of synchrony and realize that it was not a decision supported by the General Assembly. A bitter taste filled his mouth as Li signaled his camera crews to resume filming.

  “You’re going to divide the Alliance at a time like this? You would really ask your best commander to stand down in the middle of the greatest war in the history of the Starways?”

  Old anxieties fluttered to life beneath his rib cage. Hold it together, he chided himself, glancing at the bottle of vodka by the edge of his desk. “You’re losing that war, Li. Now is not the time for pride.”

  Li’s face flushed. “Funny thing you should mention that to me, Damon. But let’s go with that. Pride. How about another round of the Endgame? I’ll put my Vice in charge for the ten minutes it’ll take to destroy your worthless assino. And while I’m playing you, I hope you keep an eye on the body count—those are the lives you’re spending on your wounded pride.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Unipoesa caught the Minister moving restlessly in his chair. He hated Li for being right about his abilities, but he despised himself more for creating the situation.

  “We don’t have time for that,” the Minister said. “I order you to stand down, Li.”

  “No—wait,” Chancellor Reamon squeaked out. “I-I can’t condone this without some sort of assurance.”

  “Assurance?” the Minister exclaimed.

  “Yes—after all, with the admiral’s history—we shouldn’t be so rash.”

  The chancellor’s words felt like hot coals in his gut. “Fine. I’ll patch into Li’s simulator on deck five for an Endgame match. Countdown is set for twenty minutes, Li. Now, do I have your word that you’ll stand down after your defeat?”

  Li’s eyes widened with rage, but his voice turned cold and strangely emotionless. “After I beat you, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your days in a geriatric lockdown.”

 

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