Ceasefire_Team Orion Nebula

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Ceasefire_Team Orion Nebula Page 9

by Kayla Stonor

* * *

  Atton’s arrival home with payment in full skewered Crandal’s hope for a breaking news item. Tierc enjoyed a quiet delight and not unsubstantial relief until their handler announced through their comms-link that Octiron wanted the action promised them.

  “What do you want us to do?” Tierc snarled at the holovid drone dancing ahead of him as he dragged Ahnna away from the celebrations. Outside, he and Ahnna ducked into an alley out of sight. “Fuck up the payment? Invite attention and conflict where none is needed?”

  “Confront them!” Crandal answered. “Ask the Rafters what they’re doing. Provoke them. They’ll attack and you can take them out, legally. Just don’t get killed. Octiron has high hopes for you in this race.”

  “No,” Ahnna replied flatly. “Rafters will go after the whole family!”

  “Great Space Race contestants confronting Rafters stealing a child is one thing,” Tierc pointed out, “but interfering in a backstreet payoff smacks of something else. Leyan and Atton will be forced to run early. Better the Veltais build their sanctuary network and they run later when the Rafters aren’t paying attention.”

  “You need to give our viewers some action,” Crandal retorted, “or there won’t be a sanctuary network.”

  Tierc nearly smacked the holovid drone into a stone wall. Ahnna’s eyes flashed, she was a storm of words ready to blow, but then shouting caught their attention. They raced to the alley entrance and peered out.

  Rafters surrounded Leyan’s house.

  Atton knelt on the ground, credits scattered about him. “Not my son!” He gathered up the square coins, held them out.

  “We have your payment,” Leyan pleaded. She clutched a screaming Fais by one hand. A Rafter pulled him away, the terrified boy stretched between them.

  Ahnna ran towards the ugly scene.

  Fuck.

  Tierc raced past and charged into the melee. He pounded his fist into the Rafter’s jaw and then snapped the man’s arm at the elbow, breaking the thug’s hold on Fais. The Rafter screamed blue merry hell, but instead of attacking, his accomplices fell back. The roar of a ship’s engine made Tierc look upwards. He glimpsed a ship swooping over a high rise. Plasma fire sprayed the street. Tierc gathered Fais and Leyan with one arm and shoved them through their front door. He turned. Ahnna had reached Atton and Tierc barreled them both out of the plasma jet’s path. They tumbled head over heels into a wall.

  Ahnna rolled onto her feet. She fired her blaster at the watching Rafters as they vanished in a transport lock. The whine of a ground vehicle had her spinning around. Tierc recognized Garll at the steering column. Tierc raised a hand to stop the Veltais, Ahnna directly in the vehicle’s path. Fais shot out his house, running towards his father still prone on the ground. Leyan chased him, shouting a warning.

  The vehicle stopped just short of Ahnna. Fais did not. His head struck the steel side hard. His little body rebounded into his mother’s skirts. She tumbled back. For Tierc, time slowed. He saw Ahnna’s eyes widen in horror. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and then she screamed.

  “No!”

  Atton stumbled to his feet. He rolled across the front of the vehicle and dropped beside his dazed wife and unmoving child.

  “No!” Ahnna cried in desperation. She lurched to her feet.

  Tierc moved towards her as she staggered and doubled over.

  Leyan let loose a blood-chilling wail. Fais lay limp and lifeless in her arms, his open eyes no longer the color of the ocean, but dark and still. Garll stumbled out of his vehicle and swayed, his head shaking. The older man looked destroyed.

  Fais had died not at the hands of Rafters, but in a senseless accident, a fatal accumulation of incidents arising from slave raiders who couldn’t honor the terms of their own racket. Anger, frustration, shock filled Tierc.

  Why Fais? What had the Rafters wanted with him? It wasn’t fair. It made no sense.

  The holovid drone hovered over the scene, filming every lurid detail, out of Tierc’s reach, Octiron getting their full entertainment value. He felt sick. Tonight the galaxy would watch a little boy die. He noticed the vid drone turn from the grieving family and focus on Ahnna. She had fallen to her knees and was shaking uncontrollably, moaning, clutching her stomach, her head bowed.

  Tierc put his hands around her upper arms. “Ahnna?”

  “Not Fais. Not my little boy. No!”

  She moaned again and he pushed aside her hair to find her face contorted by a terrible grief. The muscles in her neck bulged. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She cradled her stomach so tightly he couldn’t prize her arms apart. He tried to pull her against him but she was rigid, coiled into a fetal position.

  “Ahnna, please.”

  “My little boy. They took him.”

  “No. It was an accident. The Rafters were already gone.”

  “They took him. I didn’t stop them. I wanted to. I wanted to.” She shook her head violently. “He was three. I loved him so much.”

  Tierc frowned. He looked across at Leyan cradled over her dead son and then back at Ahnna.

  “I loved him.” Her words fell over her chattering teeth. “I should have stopped them. I didn’t know. Oh my god! I didn’t stop them.”

  He gripped her arms tightly and pressed against her, hoping she would feel someone was with her. “I’ve got you. I’m with you.” He doubted she heard him, but he kept repeating the words anyway, consumed by a need to comfort her, to relieve this devastating pain he didn’t understand, but that closed his throat. Ahnna Sokovik wrapped him in her sorrow, punched a hollow ache in his chest.

  The holovid flew closer, an impassive, soulless witness to Ahnna’s torment, and in that moment Tierc hated Octiron more than ever. The media corporation was no different from the Rafters.

  They both soaked up misery for profit.

  The Rafters abducted innocent children for whatever contemptible purpose. Octiron abducted unsuspecting men and women from their lives for the enjoyment of the masses, both vile influences in this fucked up paragon of corruption and depravity.

  Chapter Seven

  “C aptain, Octiron is broadcasting.”

  Axo’s announcement broke the peace on the ship’s bridge. A large screen burst into light and color, the Octiron News slogan accompanied by a catchy trumpeted tune. Tierc set aside his study of the ship’s shields. He watched Ahnna’s interview alone. Ahnna had retreated to the privacy of her room, claiming she needed sleep. She did, but since Fais’s death, she avoided Tierc even more than before.

  More than a child had died that day. Ahnna had lost her way and Tierc wanted to understand why, and so he settled back as Octiron re-ran its exclusive of a tragic accident in Trax. Octiron had edited events so that Tierc and Ahnna appeared to arrive in time to witness a terrible accident, with Tierc going to the aid of a Veltais citizen who’d survived the crash, and Ahnna falling distraught to her knees.

  The Great Space Race would fill in the background story of their task as part of the show. For now, captions reminded viewers that Great Space Race contestants had been involved in a freak vehicular accident as Crandal intoned a voiceover. Octiron viewers would learn how a child’s tragic death dredged up old memories for GSR contestant Ahnna Sokovik, a shameful secret from her life on Earth in a parallel universe. All designed to entice viewers to tune into The Great Space Race for more salacious detail.

  Tierc scowled at a running tally on the viewers tuning in.

  The count ran into trillions.

  This was the price they paid to keep the sanctuary network a secret.

  Fais’ death had galvanized the Veltais rebels to commit to Ahnna’s plan. For Garll, working against the Rafters offered a chance to make reparation. Atton and Leyan joined the small group, vowing to ensure Fais had not died in vain.

  Octiron was the weak link in their plan.

  Selling her misery to a viewing audience was Ahnna’s only way of fulfilling her promise to Fais. They came to help a child and that’s what she would
do.

  Help all of them.

  Ahnna’s pinched face filled the screen.

  Skal. Ahnna looked half-frozen. Her hands shook. She spoke so softly, Crandal’s holographic form leaned in closer as if it would make a difference to hearing her.

  “Seeing Fais in his mother’s arms…” Her voice cracked.

  Shit, she was crying already.

  Ahnna wiped her nose on her sleeve. Octiron hadn’t supplied them with hankies and Ahnna abruptly got up and found a substitute. The camera panned around her quarters, following her every move, invading her privacy even more. She perched on the end of her bed.

  “He was so young…” She pressed fingers to her lips, took a moment. “He looked the same age, but Fais was older, and he was so proud to be five.” She swallowed, her throat bulging with emotion. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

  Tierc swore, found his own throat thickened.

  “The same age…?” Crandal paused delicately and Ahnna flung him a look of reproach.

  It was obvious she’d lost a child, but of course the heartless bastard would make her say the words and Ahnna sighed, met Crandal’s holo eyes. “As my son… Joseph.”

  “Joseph?” Crandal thought about that. “You’re named for Anna?”

  “HD-X children are named from the Bible.”

  “HD-X being Human Defense-X, the cause you fight for on Earth.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath.

  Crandal paused. “You had a son, born into HD-X?”

  “Yes.”

  “A son you lost?” When she didn’t answer, Crandal said, “May I ask what happened, how your son died?”

  Her head shook no. “He isn’t dead, at least, not that I know.” Her arms folded over her stomach. “He might be… I don’t know. We have to let them go, you see.” She tapped her head. “In here. You can’t live otherwise. I try not to think about him, I try very hard, and it works. You forget… time heals…” A huge tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Ahnna you’re very young still. How old were you when you gave birth?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Crandal paused. “How old was Joseph when you… ah, when you last saw him?”

  “I was nineteen, ready for my final training.” Her brow crinkled. “It was Monday. Joseph turned three on a Monday. HD-X sends the children off to school when they can use the bathroom alone. Until then they stay with their mothers.”

  “I see.” Crandal paused, working out his next question. “What about Joseph’s father?”

  Ahnna swallowed again, her eyes skittered away, shoulders hunched with tension. “There is no father, not like that. HD-X children are artificially inseminated. We have no fathers, none of us.”

  Tierc sat straight. The United Regions knew HD-X was essentially a cult, its operatives brainwashed by indoctrination, but this was something else entirely.

  “I barely remember my mother. I see a face, she had dark hair, I think, which is strange.” She touched her own blonde locks.

  “Sokovik is your mother’s family name.”

  “No, HD-X assigns last names when we assume a cover identity.”

  “So who raised you?”

  “HD-X. Our teachers. The Wardens.”

  “Boys and girls together?”

  “Until we reach puberty, then we are separated.”

  “Until when?”

  “Until we graduate and enter final training.”

  “Training for what?”

  “To protect the human genome.”

  “Is that what happened to Joseph? He went to school?”

  “That’s what they told me. HD-X has secret base locations across Earth.” Ahnna wiped her tears away and rallied. “It’s necessary.” She sounded defensive. “The United Regions are constantly raiding HD-X communities, so our leaders guard the locations.”

  “But why remove children from their mothers? You understand that’s not normal? It seems horrible. Parents should raise their children.”

  “Yes, but the Qui changed everything. Human Defense-X works to protect the human genome. We sacrifice for the good of humanity because of the Qui.”

  “You believe that?”

  She paused, a stricken light invading her eyes. “I have to. It’s how I was raised. The cause is the foundation of my life, my job.”

  “Tierc is Qui.”

  “Yes.”

  “You speak of Qui like they are monsters. Is Tierc a monster?”

  Tierc sat up and held his breath. Crandal had twisted the conversation to reveal another secret. Their handler wasn’t interested in Ahnna’s son; Crandal was more interested in Ahnna’s knowledge of her teammate.

  Him. Tierc Marcel.

  He fingered the silver-like cuffs encasing his wrists.

  Ahnna’s tongue emerged, wet her lips, and close up on screen it was seductive. Zeke must have agreed, because the camera shot zoomed in on Ahnna’s full luscious lips, her mouth slightly open, pearl-white teeth catching her lips.

  “He’s not what I thought.”

  “In what way?”

  “He has feelings. I saw that. In Trax. What happened…” She stopped and the camera pulled back. Tears spilled from her eyes. “After the accident, I saw…”

  Saw what? Ahnna had been devastated, beyond seeing anything.

  “I felt him beside me. Heard him. He cared, I know that. He cared about me.” Her brow creased. “It’s not right. He keeps talking about mutual attraction, he believes we should be mated, but it’s not possible. There can’t be anything with Tierc.”

  Tierc’s heart pounded loud in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this via a news channel. He felt breathless. Ask the next fucking question!

  “Why not, Ahnna? Why can’t there be anything with Tierc?”

  She looked directly out the screen, looked directly at him. “He’s not human.”

  Tierc launched out of his chair and smashed both fists into the nearest surface.

  Fuck her! Fuck HD-X! Fuck Ahnna fucking Sokovik!

  Her wrenching sob popped his fury so completely, Tierc fought for breath. He turned back to the screen, caught Zeke’s closing shot of her eyes, and felt sucked into Ahnna’s terrible sadness, her distraction, her confusion. Her world and belief system crashed around her. The more she saw of real life, interacted with people outside HD-X, the more she would be unable to reconcile experience with her beliefs, and the more lost she would feel.

  At some point, she would reach out, and when she did, he needed to be there.

  * * *

  Ahnna found Tierc prone on the floor, head deep inside a hull compartment near the engine. Wiring, crystal components and power transformers littered the floor. She tasted spice in the air.

  “What the hell?” She spoke loudly, intending to startle him, but he didn’t react.

  He did answer her. “I’m installing cloaking shields. Got nothing better to do before we hit Altaira.”

  “You can do that?” She frowned at his feet, managed not to drop the data tablet slipping from her fingers. “You didn’t think to mention this before you started tearing the ship to pieces? Are we even allowed to mess with the ship?”

  He paused in his tinkering, slid out from the panel door without getting up, and looked at her. “Yes, I can do that.” He paused. “Yes, I did think, and, if we’re not allowed, I don’t care, I didn’t ask.”

  Ahnna’s jaw twisted. “So why didn’t you mention it? We’re supposed to be a team. First you decide we’re going to do the Altaira challenge, and now this?”

  “Didn’t want to bother you. You need your space right now.”

  “I’m fine.” Her body heated, the assertion so patently false, she averted her eyes.

  Already she couldn’t swallow past a lump in her throat. HD-X warned her against proximity to Qui, how easily the aliens manipulated human emotions and pheromones.

  Don’t get involved. Stay focused on the cause. Hard to do when the cause no longer existed, and she had no choice but to work
and live alongside the enemy. Another lie. She did have a choice. She could abandon the race. Let Octiron sue her, imprison her for life.

  Although they’d have to find her first.

  She’d be on the run, for the rest of her existence.

  God, she was tired. She struggled to move, her eyeballs ached, her boots heavier than lead weights.

  She thrust out the tablet. “Atton contacted us.” She could hardly get the Veltais’ name out. Atton had worked so hard to save his son, enjoyed his family reunited for just one night, before… She forced herself on. “He’s given us the location of a gambling den at Roltair Med. Club Voltai. It’s where he won the credits to pay off the Rafters. One of the challenge tasks involves winning a bet, I checked. The club is licensed, so the win will be certifiable and,” she gestured around her, “the Orion Nebula easily exceeds the minimum bet for entry. We’d definitely hit a hundred points.”

  Tierc’s expression went from a diplomatic blank to real interest. He sat up and accepted the tablet, studied Atton’s message. That spice smell filled her nostrils, and her gaze dropped to the hard ridge in his pants. She looked away again, but too late, her senses alert and firing. Her breasts ached, her clothes pressed tight against her hardened nipples. She avoided him for exactly this reason.

  His eyes shot up and locked on her. Bastard oozed sexual awareness. Tierc sensed her response. She read the knowledge in his heated gaze, his sudden stillness, the overpowering aroma of his pheromones assaulting her body.

  She swallowed hard, nodded to the tablet. “Roltair Med is halfway to Verdon. Axo says slave traders supplying Meridian Corp. stop off there. Ships change ownership a lot on Roltair Med.”

  “Axo says?” Tierc crinkled his nose with suspicion.

  The AI appeared then, almost as if Axo had mistaken Tierc’s misgivings for a summons. The android holo figure stooped to study Tierc’s efforts.

  “You’re suggesting we win a spaceship?” Tierc asked Ahnna. “Is that likely?”

  “I worked six months in a Vegas casino,” Ahnna reminded him. “Played too, at other clubs obviously.”

  “Building your cover?”

  Ahnna didn’t like the edge to his voice. “A woman in control at the poker table lures in potential clients. Submissives are drawn to the tables, got so I could spot them at the door. I used to slip them an Eros card.”

 

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