by J. N. Chaney
I studied the girl, noting her cool demeanor and sharp eyes. They seemed to take in her surroundings with an almost clinical stare and I found myself a little unnerved.
“Okay, I’ll take you to get settled.”
As we walked side by side to the brig I had once stayed in myself, I hoped that I hadn’t made a huge mistake bringing Calliope aboard.
3
I waited in the kitchen area of the ship for Farah to finish debriefing the rescuees. My longtime friend was better with people than me, so I tended to lean on her for that. Part of that probably came from her background as a medic, but I tended to think it was also due to her personality.
We were on our way to Taurus, a station that we occasionally used as a drop off point after missions. It was one of many since we wanted to avoid creating a pattern that the government might catch onto.
Calliope, who I’d decided to call Cal for short, had gone to the brig without complaint, even when I’d locked her in.
Farah walked in a few seconds later and slid into the chair opposite me. I pushed her the glass I’d already filled with our newest alcohol to try. It had become a new tradition for us to try a new drink after every successful mission.
We’d both had beer before, of course, but Mack had introduced us to whiskey to celebrate not dying after the mission on Chaundra. The part where Farah and I went to the Sarkonian controlled facility had actually gone quite well. It was the after that nearly killed us.
Lukas Haas, an Ensign from our old unit, had caught up with us on our way to deposit the replicators we’d stolen. He unsurprisingly held a grudge against us for leaving him to be taken prisoner by the Union and he’d taken control of the Second Genesis. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Mateo Kamal had been with him. Seeing my ex alive had been a shock, not to mention the fact that he, too, was working with the Union.
Thanks to Vega regaining control of the ship and undocking from theirs, Haas had been thrown off balance and we’d fought. He almost succeeded in killing me, but Mateo came back and stopped him. Farah threatened to kill him if he didn’t let me go, but I didn’t believe he would have harmed me.
In the end, Farah and I left, and Mat stayed with the Union. It remained to be seen what the future would bring but, for now, we were free.
“What’s this one?” She picked it up gingerly and gave it a wary sniff. “It smells sweet.”
“Sake,” I said lifting my cup to hers. “To another successful mission. You too, V. Great job as usual,” I added.
“Thank you, Captain. Though I am unable to lift a glass with you, please know that I am observing with vigor.” Vega sounded pleased to be included, at least to my ears.
Farah and I touched the glasses together, the resounding clink tinkling merrily in the otherwise empty room.
The drink went down like silk, its gentle warmth creeping up on me whereas that first whiskey had been like swallowing fire.
“That’s good,” Farah said, leaning back with a contented sigh and swirling the clear liquid thoughtfully.
“It is,” I agreed, taking another sip as I studied my partner in crime over the rim of my sake.
The temp black color of her hair still obscured the vibrant pink she’d changed it to after we took on new identities and I thought it made her look serious. Of the two of us, I considered her to be the heart. As for myself, well, I was more pragmatic.
Together, we made a good team. Friends since academy, we’d always been close, and our bond only grew when we served together in the same unit.
Because of that, I knew her better than anyone else. Which was why I knew she had something on her mind besides the sake. She had a faraway look in her eyes and the fingers of the hand not holding the glass tapped a staccato beat on the table.
“What’s up?” I asked bluntly, never one to mince words.
Farah looked up and fixed her clear green eyes on me, searching my face as if gauging my mood, her lips pursed just slightly.
Uh oh, I thought. She only got that look when she had to share bad news.
“I was just thinking,” she said in a casual tone, the tapping fingers now tracing invisible circles on the table. “Did you have to put Calliope in the brig?”
Huh. Not what I was expecting.
“It was the only place with a bed,” I reminded her.
My response got the immediate reaction of Farah raising a questioning eyebrow and tilting her head to the side.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“You know that’s not true. Besides the captain’s quarters, this ship is built for a crew of five, but you know each room can sleep two. And our clients are doing just that. That leaves two open rooms.”
I lifted a shoulder in response. “The clients paid transportation costs for four people. That included individual rooms.”
“Come on,” she pressed, setting the cup down and leaning forward to give me all her attention. “There’s more to it than that.”
I took another drink, partially because it was good, but also because I needed a second.
Since being thrust into this new life, Farah had shed the skin of Sophie Singh with ease. It wasn’t so much that she was different. The major personality points of my friend were still very much apparent: the kindness, the pep, and fierce loyalty.
But there was a change in her. Where under Commander-Navari Sophie had always been more introverted and almost timid, now Farah was open, borderline boisterous. It was like this person had been hidden away on the inside, just waiting for the chance to come out.
I didn’t feel the same way. The only thing I’d suppressed over the years were violent tendencies toward the people who kidnapped me. It had occurred to me that despite the many long nights spent planning my eventual departure from the Sarkonian life I’d been trapped in, it had never gone beyond that.
As a child, Rena Bennet had dreamed of escaping and finding her parents. As Eva Delgado, I’d only focused on getting through my forced term of service, after which I would have packed my bags and left. Even after I’d decided to desert my life when I thought Mateo was killed, my plotting had only gone as far as getting away without getting caught.
Alyss was past all that. But, now that I had the freedom I’d craved for so long, I didn’t know what to do with it.
At first, there had been this heady desire to make my own choices. My blue hair (that I now felt a little silly in, truth be told), tattoos, and wardrobe were all evidence of that. Others, though less outwardly visible, were just as life changing.
Food, for instance. Since becoming Sarkonian, I’d eaten what I was told to eat. At the governor’s house, I never had the option to turn food away, even if I didn’t like it. During academy and throughout the rest of my time in the service, the mess halls served barely edible meals masquerading as food. The eatery on the Ambiana wasn’t much better, so I’d never wasted the credits in there.
My first experience ordering food at a bar had been somewhat marred by the fact that Farah and I were on Leah station. Uncleanliness notwithstanding, there had also been the little matter of Mateo showing up, though at the time I thought I’d imagined it. The cuisine readily available on Neblinar was almost mind boggling and I tried something new almost daily.
Though I would never admit it, I had begun to miss the order of military life. There was no guesswork required. You did what they said, when they said. Controlled, but easy.
Now, without Sarkonian restrictions on the gal-net, I had unfettered access to, well, everything. Farah and Mack introduced me to a dizzying number of holo films and shows, fictional texts, and music. It was like being blind and deaf all your life then suddenly getting those senses back at once.
I didn’t know who I was anymore, and that scared me.
My whole life felt like instances of betrayal and lies. Besides Farah, I trusted no one. If I could at least have some semblance of control, even if it was just with Calliope, it made me feel more grounded.
“Alyss?”
&
nbsp; Realizing I must have been quiet for longer than I meant to, I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, got lost in thought for a second.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, looking me over as though she didn’t believe me. “So, what were you going to say?”
“We don’t know her,” I said. “She admitted to being Union, but who knows if that’s really what landed her in that camp.”
“Which V confirmed,” Farah pointed out.
“Miss Shahi is correct,” the AI chimed in.
“You know as well as I do that her background could have been forged. We did it easily enough.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why are you so keen to trust her anyway?”
She gave me a long look before answering. “Not too long ago we were in the same position. Except we got lucky.”
I arched an eyebrow at that. “Lucky? How do you figure?”
Farah held up a hand and looked at me with a wry expression. “Well, let’s see. We have a state-of-the-art AI and cloaking capabilities, access to a top rate hacker—who works for next to nothing, I might add—and enough inside knowledge to pull off every job we take.”
“Not every job,” I muttered.
She smirked. “You can’t even count that one. In fact, that only proves my point. The single instance where things almost didn’t work out. Almost, because you remember, your boyfriend of all people was the one that caught us. Anyone else would have turned us in without a thought.”
“Fine, we’re lucky. That doesn’t mean we let down our guard and give some exUni access to our ship!” I didn’t like the raw edge that had crept into my voice and I shut my mouth with a snap.
We lapsed into a tense silence, the sake forgotten between us, until Farah broke it first.
“Don’t think I don’t see how hard this has been for you,” she said gently.
“It’s not about that,” I lied. “It’s just… what if it isn’t luck? Maybe the reason things are working out is that we’re trained for this kind of life. Every decision we make in the field comes from gut instinct or training. Put someone else in our shoes for the past month and I don’t think they could do what we’ve done.”
Farah considered that for a moment, then stood and cleared away the sake and glasses. “Maybe it is the training,” she admitted from the sink. “And I trust your gut a whole lot more than lady luck.”
“But?”
She came back and leaned a hip on the table, then she looked down at her hands. “But nothing. The government trained us well. We’re good little soldiers.”
I caught the bitter tone but continued. “Not to mention everyone is hiding something,” I said sardonically. “Kaska, Navari, even you.”
I was referring to the fact that she and her family were part of an underground rebellion hell bent against the Sarkonian Empire.
“That’s not the same,” she started to say, a wince crossing her face.
I held up my hand. “I know. I’m not judging, just pointing out that caution is our friend.”
“Okay,” Farah said, moving to stand with a nod. “I’m with you all the way. If you think Calliope needs to stay in the brig, then that’s where she goes.”
“Okay,” I repeated, relieved. “Still feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming,” I said when she’d almost reached the door.
Farah stopped, turning to smile lightly at me. “But remember the government trained us to see the enemy everywhere. Sooner or later you have to trust someone. Until then, they’re still in control.”
“Godsdammit,” I muttered to myself after she’d gone.
The counterbalance to knowing my friend was that she knew me equally well. Her parting words stuck in my craw. If there was one thing that I wouldn’t do willingly, it was let the Sarkonian government have any hold over me.
“V, give me everything you can find on Petty Officer First Class Calliope Walker,” I ordered.
“Working. Would you prefer the data sent to your personal pad or the holo table?”
I looked around in confusion but didn’t see what she was talking about. “What holo table?”
“The one you’re currently seated at, Captain.” Vega sounded perplexed, as if she were a teacher who’d asked an easy question but gotten a wrong answer from their student.
“Uh, maybe you should run a self-diagnostic test,” I suggested. “There’s no holo table in here, V. I’m at the dinner table.”
This time when the AI spoke, her tone took on a testy quality. “If you wish me to do so, Captain, I will. However, it should not be necessary. The kitchen features a fully functional workstation.”
On cue, the table lit up and an array of documents, all concerning Calliope, appeared on the surface like an overlarge datapad.
“Why have we never used this?” I complained, thinking of all the hours Farah and I had spent on the bridge not wanting to stop for food.
“No one has ever asked,” Vega replied.
“V,” I said in an overly cheerful tone. “If the co-captain and I are ever not utilizing this ship to its fullest extent, please let us know.”
“Of course, Captain.”
I spent the next few minutes looking over Calliope’s file, though nothing new caught my eye. As far as I could tell, she checked out.
Her service picture made her look a little older, but just, and it had more to do with the soldier’s eyes than her uniform. They weren’t an exotic color, just your standard brown, like ninety percent of the known universe. Rather it was the way she stared into the camera with a quiet intensity and none of the guileless pleading I’d witnessed in the barracks.
There’s something more here, I thought.
Farah’s words about seeing everyone as the enemy resurfaced and I mulled it over. Calliope was stuck in a labor camp, abandoned by her government. With no weapons or means of escape it must have seemed like a gift from the gods when we’d shown up.
Maybe she was who she claimed to be and did what it took to survive. As soldiers, we were taught to make do with the tools available. Failing that, we had to rely on our wits. Tactical planning and hand to hand were my strengths.
What are yours? I wondered, studying the image again. The girl could fight, that was clear. But she didn’t look like it. Perhaps that was a strength too. People could easily underestimate someone like Calliope Walker.
“Can you check for any evidence of tampering with the information I’m looking at?” I asked Vega.
“Acknowledged, Captain. One moment.” The computer’s voice was back to being pleasant and I smirked. “The file does not appear to be altered.”
“Good,” I answered. “Can you send the data package to Mack and ask if she can dig up anything about Walker on the back channels?”
“Of course, Captain Cortez,” Vega replied brightly.
Ever since Mack had upgraded the systems and removed the Sarkonian programming, the artificial intelligence had also seemed to undergo a personality change.
It made me a little uneasy in the beginning, but Mack assured me Vega wasn’t sentient. The hacker cited that the technology didn’t exist yet, and even if it did the Union wouldn’t have given it to the Sarkon Empire, truce or not.
That explanation made sense to me at the time, so I let it drop. The fluctuations in what I could only term V’s attitude made me wonder if I should ask Mack to take another look. I had a feeling there was more to find than a holo table in the kitchen.
4
“What’s going on?” Calliope asked when I let her out of the brig the next morning.
“Our clients decided to keep their sleeping arrangements and a room opened up,” I told her.
“Thanks,” she said, stretching as she exited the cell I’d occupied myself not all that long ago. “Not that I’m complaining, but the cot is a little rough on the back.”
I winced at the sight of the lumpy cot she’d spent the night on. Shadows under the girl’s eyes dug a furrow of guilt into my conscience and I felt a surge of gratitude to Farah for setting me straigh
t.
“Sorry,” I apologized, meaning it. “They aren’t really built for comfort.”
“No, I guess they aren’t,” she laughed.
“We’ve got about two more days of tunnel jumping ahead of us,” I told her. “I’ll show you where everything is, then you can grab a bite to eat or some decent sleep.”
In the light of a new day and fresh perspective, I found that I actually liked Calliope. Usually, I let my partner handle that part but figured I had some responsibility. She admired the Genesis on the short tour I gave her, but in a reserved way. At least until we reached the armory.
I didn’t know why I decided to show her that. To my knowledge Farah never did on her tours. Maybe it was to prove I really did trust her. Or maybe I just wanted to show off, who knew.
When the door opened and she got a look inside, her eyes went big. “Did you steal the ship and the weapons from us? Not all of those look Union issued.”
“Neither,” I said, shutting the door quickly. Though she didn’t have an accusatory tone, the question made me wary and I realized I had shown our stock of highly advanced, highly illegal weapons. “Why do you ask?”
Cal shifted to aim a quizzical look my way. “It’s on all the bulletins about you.”
At my blank look she made a noise of disbelief, then stopped when she realized I was serious.
“You really don’t know?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
She hesitated for a beat before explaining. “The Union is charging Eva Delgado and Sophie Singh with the assassination of two high ranking officials, attempted murder of a child, and high theft of a classified government ship.”
I repeated the motion of shaking my head. “The last I saw they claimed we killed our commander when she tried to stop us from carrying out an assassination.”
Calliope gave me a sidelong look as we turned away from the armory door and headed for the kitchen. “So the reports are wrong?”
Cal said it casually, in a tone so subtle that I nearly missed the corner she’d neatly boxed me into. “Mostly. Navari was the one who carried out the killings,” I explained, then went on to describe the events that followed.