Triorion Omnibus

by L. J. Hachmeister

  Triel took cover behind the bed and on top of the stretcher as Jetta hit the firing pin and dove down next to her. The series of explosions threw sparks across the room, and for a moment sirens wailed before the power completely shut down.

  The gravity generators failed, and Triel clung to the stretcher as her body lifted off the ground. With one hand Jetta guided the stretcher to the door to their room, which she pried open, and navigated them through the dark corridor.

  “Twenty meters, then right,” Triel said, but she knew she didn’t have to tell Jetta. Even before her military training, Jetta always memorized every detail of her surroundings, something her sister said she had been doing since their days on Fiorah.

  People were screaming, the cries echoing in the corridor as they hovered in midair, the soft blue light of the undercarriage the only thing visible in the weightless blackness.

  “There will be commandos protecting our ship,” Jetta said as they cruised through the gardens.

  Something slimy slapped her helmet. Triel reached up and touched a fish flailing about in zero gravity.

  “What are you going to do about them?” Triel asked as bubbles of water broke across her uniform. She knew that Jetta had sacrificed her firearm, not that it would have been much of a match against armored commandos.

  “The only thing I can do.”

  “Jetta, that isn’t a good idea,” Triel said, not hiding her concern as they left the gardens and passed through the gallery. Jetta slowed as she carefully navigated down the portal tube, catching the side of the stretcher on the wall and jarring their grip. “There has to be another way.”

  The commandos’ exoskeletons were lit with lines of orange, their missile tips flared and auxiliary firearms charged. Ion-static crackled in the distance. Jetta approached cautiously, feeling her two opponents out as they drifted toward them through the tube. The hangar lights of their craft were on, indicating the internal power was too.

  “Trust me,” was all Jetta said.

  Triel winced as Jetta let go, her mind stretching beyond her own body and into the minds of the two soldiers manning the exoskeletons. Triel knew what Jetta was capable of—she could dump her unwanted emotions into others or make their worst nightmares come to life, tearing them apart from the inside. But not this time. The psionic vibrations hit Triel like a melody inverted into teeth-grinding discord, but just as she had begun to fear the worst, something happened.

  Triel looked to see the two commandos backing down, powering down their firearms as they stepped aside and let them through.

  Triel kept them in her sights as she carefully extended her own awareness, trying to understand what had just happened, but she felt nothing from them other than a rhythmic, soothing calm.

  Jetta guided the stretcher up the ramp and into the belly of their ship, activating their internal gravity wells just as the lights to the station began to cycle on.

  “We need to get out of here before the loading clamps reengage,” Jetta said, strapping herself in.

  “They didn’t make any repairs,” Triel said, checking the onboard readings.

  “But they did refuel us so they could fish through the system,” Jetta grumbled. “Hold on.”

  Jetta pulled back hard on the ship’s controls, yanking them out of the clamps and sending them spiraling off the loading dock, then dropped them through the Iyo Kono traffic portal.

  The station’s rotational axis had come back to life, and they narrowly missed a collision with the outer module as it swung past.

  “I’m making the final jump—we can’t wait any longer. Hold on,” Jetta said as she swooped low in the planet’s atmosphere to buy them some time. The solar shield dimmed to protect their eyes as the nose of the ship flared orange against the atmosphere.

  “What are those?” Triel said pointing to the radar.

  Jetta enhanced the view on the screen. Four black starcraft with Iyo Kono’s crest flew in attack formation on their flight path. “Vipers. Star class. Don’t worry—we’ll make the jump before they get in range.”

  “But the nav computer is offline—”

  “Let’s hope I can remember the coordinates.”

  Triel gripped the armrests as she watched Jetta make the calculations manually for their final jump. Even one hundred-thousandth of a degree off could land them in a planet’s molten core or the burning center of a star—or someplace worse. Jetta once told her that veteran pilots claimed poorly calculated jumps could land a person in one of the infinite interdimensions of space-time. Jetta had thought it more likely that such a miscalculation would tear a ship apart, but the rumors spoke of ghostly creatures that preyed on the poor souls who happened to jump their ship into limbo. Either way, Triel didn’t want to find out.

  As the ship jumped through the two connected holes in space-time, Triel’s body pulled apart, her mind whipped across the stars through a sea of kaleidoscope colors. When she opened them, she gasped.

  “Algar.”

  The blue planet seemed to be welcoming them in, its billowy white clouds wreathing lush, mountainous continents.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jetta whispered, enhancing the view on the secondary screen.

  Triel immediately looked to the southern continent. Even from their high orbit she could see scars of the Dominion’s invasion cutting across the land.

  “It’s been so long...”

  She was surprised to feel Jetta’s hand on her shoulder. “Hey... sorry. I know it’s hard being here.”

  Triel shook her head. “We need to get some answers; it’s the only way.”

  “Yeah, we do,” Jetta said as she stabbed at the computer interface. The motherboard beeped, not accepting the new data. “Although this might be our final destination if we can’t make repairs. It’s not even the engines I’m worried about—it’s the goddamn computer. We’re flying blind. And I can’t get the gravity reactors online for the descent.”

  Jetta cursed in Fiorahian but stopped, resting her head against her chair. She closed her eyes, and Triel felt her thoughts temporarily detach as she sifted and sorted through memories.

  “What’s wrong, Jetta?”

  Jetta’s mind was distant, as were her words. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s real anymore. Sometimes I can’t tell between what I’ve experienced and what I’ve taken from other people. Do you ever have that happen?”

  Triel nodded. “I know what you’re talking about. I used to have the rest of my tribe to help me purge unwanted essences, but I don’t have that luxury now.” Triel massaged the webbing between her fingers as she continued her thought. “It was always the tortured souls, the worst memories and nightmares, that seemed to get under my skin. It’s hard enough living with your own pain, let alone someone else’s.”

  Jetta turned away from her. “My perceptions are only getting stronger. I used to have to try to take knowledge from other people, but now it seems like I just get pulled right into their heads. Sometimes I can’t control what I’m taking anymore. I’m sorry you had to see me—you know—the way I was with Lau.”

  “I understand what happened, Jetta. But those commandos—you did something different with your talents—you put them at peace. That’s something new, something good.”

  Jetta shrugged. “Kinda. I gave them one of my memories to make them forget their objective.”

  “Where did you learn that?”

  “Earth, of all places” Jetta laughed. “When I was in the jaws of a wolf.”

  Triel didn’t want to say anything—not yet. She felt there was something else Jetta was trying to tell her, but didn’t know how.

  “I’m sorry,” Jetta said, her face suddenly serious. “You’re the last person I should complain to.”

  “I’m glad you can talk to me,” Triel whispered. She wanted to reach out to her, but the intensity in Jetta’s eyes made her rethink it.

  “Look,” Jetta said, facing her squarely. Triel wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the beginnings of tears. “I
want you to know something. Whatever happens to me, I only want what’s best for you, and for my brother and sister. I want to do what’s right, but sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between what’s right and what’s smart. Do you get it?”

  Then Triel was sure she saw tears, and Jetta, sensing her realization, turned back to her controls and dipped the nose of the ship toward the planet. “This is going to be rough. Hold on.”

  “Wait—Jetta—what do you mean?” Triel tried to ask, but she could barely hear herself above the thunderous noise of the ship’s shields reacting with the atmosphere. Red and yellow flames engulfed their starcraft as the onboard computer warned against imminent forward shield failure. Triel tried to fight the g-force, but it had pinned her to her seat, and she imagined her internal organs plastered against her spine as the ship continued to accelerate.

  It became harder and harder to breathe as the weight of it crushed her lungs, and white hot panic lit up every nerve as she realized she might not survive the fall. With considerable effort she turned her head, squinting against the blinding flames. Jetta’s form, somewhat blurred, seemed odd to her. She tried to call out again, but she had no voice. Still, something moved. It wasn’t Jetta—it was a shadow thing, uncoiling itself from around her body like a snake embedded in her skin. Bound to Jetta, but with gnarled fingers like the roots of a plant, it slithered toward her in midair, its dead, hollow eyes evoking a terror that stripped her down to her most primitive instincts. She was trapped, prey to a beast with immeasurable hungers.

  No—it can’t be—

  And it answered back, its voice a cacophony of sound that resolved into something old and guttural, as if it arose from the belly of the Great Beast itself. And as the rest of the starcraft vanished from view, the stress of the descent robbing her of consciousness, its words burned her with their rage, warning her of her own demise.

  IT HAD TAKEN JAEIA twenty minutes and a little bit of extrasensory coercion to finally convince Dr. DeAnders to allow her to sit with her brother in the Division Lockdown lab. The condition of the Grand Oblin’s body had deteriorated, and they had resuscitated him twice since Jahx had last woken up.

  Jaeia would have done anything to be with him right then, even if it had meant fully engaging her talents to get past the medical staff. Jetta and Triel were missing, their tunes distant and muddled. The agents who supervised the Sleepers reported that Reht was on the Ultio when it exploded, and his crew were unaccounted for. Tidas Razar was in critical condition and Unipoesa a fugitive. She had never felt so alone, never felt the weight of the world so heavy on her shoulders.

  Jaeia sighed, taking Jahx’s hand in hers. “Things are bad, brother. CCO Wren has taken temporary custody of the Ministerial position since Razar hasn’t gotten better. He’s trying to hold the General Assembly together, but many of them have been swayed by Victor to join the new Republic. We don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s slowly draining the Alliance from within its government. If we don’t have the support of the civilians, then what are we fighting for?”

  Jaeia straightened, concentrating on every word. “I’m supposed to keep the Fleet together, defend what territory we have left. Defensive tactics are my specialty, but now is the time for something wild—some crazy plan to bail us out that only Jetta could come up with. Remember the time she started a fight with the other children so she could steal a shockwand from the laborminder? Remember how we used to kill rats with it? Kept us fed all those months when Yahmen cut off our rations. I thought she was insane, but in the end, she was right.”

  “Well, at least I’ve been promoted to captain,” Jaeia chuckled. “Jetta’s going to be pissed that I outrank her now.”

  She closed her eyes, listening to the metronomic heartbeat in the background as her brother’s borrowed body lay motionless on the exam table. “I’m scared, Jahx. It was never supposed to be like this. You promised me that it would always be the three of us, that we would go everywhere together, that I would never be alone.”

  Jaeia squeezed his hand. “Yeah. Well, she’s run away again and I don’t know where you are, so it’s just me. It’s always me. I’m always the one left behind.”

  Jaeia turned to go, but she felt his hand on her wrist, and she whipped around. The machines attached to him never skipped a beat, nor did his body seem to have moved.

  “Jahx?” she said, leaning over. But his limbs were slack and his body still except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

  Jahx?

  The room lights dimmed, and the monitors alerted in flashing lights and high-pitched beeping.

  Jahx—is that you?

  Jaeia leaned farther in, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder as she listened, holding her breath and searching the dark features of his face for any sign of movement.

  Jahx—

  And then she really was alone. It took her a moment to orient to her surroundings. The cold sterility of the lab vanished, replaced by a dry heat that seemed to swallow her whole. The air was thin and dusty, and her chest felt heavy and tight with every breath.

  (Fiorah—)

  Jaeia was back under the couch, aware of the throb of her feet and the ache of her chin. The evening light filtered through the slats in the boarded up windows, illuminating the daring rat that chanced running across the carpet. Black Lokus flies buzzed in her ears, tickling her face as they sampled the dried blood on her chin, oblivious to anything but their meal.

  Her fear of the junkie was still fresh, keeping her from leaving her hiding place. She was certain he was waiting for her with his bloodied, ragged stumps, wanting revenge for what she had done to him. She couldn’t move, though the cramp in her neck and back was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

  She curled up tighter when she heard the floorboards creak just outside their apartment. Someone was at the front door. The handle jiggled, then twisted. Silence. She needed her talents right then, but her nerves were too tense, heartbeat amplified in her head as her mind played out the junkie, his hands coming apart like rotten fruit, tearing her apart with broken teeth.

  “Jaeia?”

  Soft footsteps padded across the carpet, stopping in front of the couch. She couldn’t look, couldn’t even reach out with her mind. It was over. Her family was dead, and the only person left to get her was—

  “We were so worried about you.”

  Two small hands circled her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. She opened one eye to take in Jahx’s clear blue gaze and outstretched hands.

  “Jahx!” she exclaimed, tearing up.

  “Come on, it’s gross under there. Galm said that’s where the other renters let their cat pee.”

  With a grunt she wormed her way out from under the couch, hair and clothes a matted mess of blood and debris. He kept a hand on her, helping her over to the couch.

  “Gods,” she said, hugging him tightly, “I thought you were all killed.”

  Jahx hugged her back. “You worry too much. We’re too short to get in anyone’s firing range, remember?”

  Jaeia wouldn’t let him go, even when he tried to pull back. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Jetta went the long way home with Galm and Lohien just in case. Lohien lost two pigeons in the fight. I think she’ll lose the coop.”

  “No,” Jaeia said. “Does that mean...?”

  She didn’t have to say the rest. It had been Jahx’s longstanding fear that they would end up in Yahmen’s mines, but she had never thought it would come so soon. They were only four years old and not even big enough to haul topitrate like the other children.

  “Jaeia,” Jahx said, holding her hands in his.

  Jaeia remembered what he said to her back on Fiorah that day. He was going to reassure her that where one of them went, they all went, and that she would never be alone. He had promised her that everything was going to be okay, that they wouldn’t work in the mines very long, and that one day they’d get off of Fiorah, get away from the junkies, th
e streets, Yahmen and the awful heat, and they’d be able to have a real family again, without being worried about food, shelter and basic survival.

  But he didn’t this time. Something changed. In the corner of her eye the edges of her vision were constantly forming and re-forming, as if someone was struggling to keep the memory alive.

  “Jaeia—you have to stay strong, for me.” His voice was different, older, as was the look in his eyes. “Something terrible has found Jetta, and it’s growing, clouding my abilities and preventing me from coming back. I don’t know what is going to happen next, and I can’t protect you right now. All I know is that you have to find him—Josef Stein—before it is too late. He is a prisoner like so many others. Trust your instincts, and trust yourself. You’re not alone.”

  Jaeia grabbed Jahx by the shoulders. “What do you mean? Where is he? Why?”

  “Run, Jaeia,” Jahx whispered, terror bleaching his eyes.

  The apartment quaked, lights shattering as pictures rattled off the wall. The radiant sunlight disappeared, replaced by acid-bright light with no discernible source. The rats squealed and scattered as slick tentacles and circuitry uprooted the carpet, overturning furniture and routing into the walls. Something red oozed from the tiles and the bricks, and decay singed her nose.

  Jahx’s color paled, his eyes white and hollow, and his hair thinned until he was bald. From his open mouth spilled wires and tubes, and his limbs braided into a web of fleshy gears and wet circuit boards. She screamed, pulling her hands away and backing into the slick yellow wall behind her.

  There was nowhere to run as the pulsating walls closed in around her. And then from the shadow came the sound that turned her blood cold. Twisted, tortured metal and labored breathing—the thing with the burning red eye. Spiny legs stepped into view, bringing with them the massive undercarriage with its human torso and head. He smiled at her, metallic teeth grinding, producing a piercing shriek that tore into her bones.

  He reached for her with his pinchers, his laughter grating like rust on rust—

  “Captain!”