by Reiter
“No, please, remain hopeful,” Dungias stated. “In the sentiment of my Captain, every little bit helps!”
“Indeed! And if you are going to continue to impress us, you must return to your toiling. Fare thee well, Star Chaser.” Dungias was not given time to voice his goodbye, but he knew they were aware of his gratitude and that they shared a longing for their next engagement… should it be a possibility.
Dungias opened his eyes as his feet settled down to the wild grass. The arboretum was still his preferred place for ascension, simply because it was a good place to be when he returned to the realm. He took a step forward and extended his hand. Sarukannah extended several vines to receive him, and the crystals all glowed brightly the moment there was physical contact.
“There are so many dark treks leading from this moment,” he said softly as the plant caressed his skin. “So many that it is difficult to see beyond this place. Fate is already here, and she has invited her sibling Death to attend a grand feast. The only question that remains is whether they intend to feed us or eat us! Query: how does one prepare to be both a gracious guest to the feast and a most difficult entrée to digest?” Two more vines extended toward Dungias in response to his question. He could see one of the roots pull up from the soil and his eyes gaped wide in realization. “Yes, I agree!”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
The bottle was placed down on the bar… the two shot glasses were grabbed by gloved hands, lifted to anxious lips that parted to allow the inebriant into their mouths. The liquid flushed into their mouths, over the tongues and quickly down their throats. They both winced and breathed out slowly at the warmth and sweetness of the aged Nectar.
“Damn that’s good hooch!” Lieutenant Alistair Calamity Codges whispered as he peered at his drinking partner through squinted eyes.
“Best Nectar in The Territories,” Commander Sarshata Swan Ravinguez added as she put her glass back down on the bar. As Alistair lowered his head and tried to shake loose the effects of the drink, Sarshata looked at the woman who had poured the drinks. The redhead nodded that she had effectively carried out her orders. Quickly and quietly, the establishment had been cleared, and only the two at the bar remained. Setting down the glass she was cleaning, the woman who had been given the call-sign Red Glory stepped through the side door and was gone before Alistair’s head came up. He looked at Sarshata, who was clearly not as shaken by the drink as he still was. He shook his head in disgust.
“Aren’t you twice my age?” he inquired.
“Not quite,” Sarshata replied. “But damn near. Hitting one thirty-four this Octoryn. You’re seventy, right?”
“Seventy-one, thank you very much,” Alistair slurred, rubbing his chin.
“No you don’t, Calamity,” she said slapping the man hard across the face. “I need you here.”
“Then maybe you should have poured something weaker,” Codges argued. “Like hydrochloric acid or something like that.”
“Note to self has been made. But I still need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“What is it with you and Starblazer?” she asked. Alistair moaned at hearing the woman’s name. “See, that I don’t get. Unless you’ve gotten so hard-boiled that you can’t admit when you’ve forgotten the basics.” Alistair waved off the implication. “Come on, Calamity, it’s not the first time an applicant has taken one of us down. They’re here for a reason, and you approached her like a rookie who couldn’t even do a loop! Of course she’s going to fry your wings!”
“Damn near crashing in the process,” Alistair remarked.
“Now you’re sounding like maybe I should strip down and shove a tit in your mouth! Are you going to sit there and tell me that you’ve never seen someone scrape the cavern walls like that before?!”
“Either one of us could do it,” Alistair admitted before giggling. “In fact, I can remember when you came too close to the sides.”
“Damn that was an ugly crash,” Sarshata said, recalling the wreck. “But you’re banking on my question.”
“Ugh, can we just let it drop, please?!” Alistair snapped, half-drunk from the Nectar he had imbibed. Sarshata knew the effects were only going to get worse, but Alistair was the type of man where hard liquor was his truth serum. All she had to do was find the right course; she would eventually find her way to the answers she sought.
“Wouldn’t you rather drop her?” she asked, surprising Codges. She decided to pour another serving, but barely covered the bottom of his glass, using water to dilute it. “I’m not saying it’s the best option, but it’s not off the table. Look at the way she acts! Total lack of discipline.”
“And it’s not as if we don’t have a surplus of attitude around here,” Codges added as he received his glass from Ravinguez. “And she a damn pirate!”
“Bad enough we’ve got professional assassins in our ranks, right?” Sarshata baited, ignoring the fact his grammar had slipped. He had taken the conversation to what JoJo Starblazer was outside of being a pilot; his issue with her had nothing to do with her piloting skills. The woman called Swan dared to have hope for her Lieutenant.
“There you go!” Alistair agreed, raising his voice as he spoke. “Assassins! I remember a time when the Star-Wing Corps was a banner in and of self. One you touched the silver you dropped everything else. The Corps was your life and life was the Corps!” Alistair threw back his drink and smiled at what he perceived as his ability to withstand the burn of the Nectar. He grinned with pride as Sarshata took her second shot, undiluted, and only smiled at him, saluting him with her empty glass. She set it down on the bar as Codges looked at the bottom of his glass.
“Bad enough she got sponsored by some fucking clone!” he muttered.
“Target verified,” Sarshata whispered, coming off her stool, her fist swinging in a potent hook that connected with the side of Codges’ face. He was lifted off of his stool and deposited on the floor by the force of the blow. “Target down!”
“What the hell?!” Codges yelled as he was suddenly not as drunk as he had been before the punch. He quickly got up to his feet, but decided not to attack the woman who was glaring at him.
“Record!” she called out.
“Recording initiated,” the computer replied.
“Lieutenant Codges is hereby given waivers for any assault visited upon my person for the next hour!” Sarshata stated, her hands flexing in and out of fists.
“Declaration received and recorded,” the computer replied.
“Your move, you miserable broken stick!” she hissed.
“I don’t want to fight you, Swan!” Codges declared.
“Oh yes you do!” she argued, slowly advancing. Her eyes looked as if they could burn holes through his body. “You see, I’m god-damned clone lover! I was eighteen when Spade pinned wings on my chest. He came out of nowhere to do it, but that was his thing. Some say he did it even better than Shade!
“The Corps was crumbling!” she attested. “Anyone with an itch for glory and a stick came after anyone claiming they were a Star-Wing. No one wants to talk about the time when the Empire and the Ardrians actually decided to work together. It was over a hundred years ago, and it only happened in one sector, but when that sector is your backyard, it’s pretty damn hard to forget.
“They were down to their last thirty ships, Calamity,” she recounted. “Two fleets were breathing down their necks and about to lower the very last boom. One black fighter comes out of nowhere and the next thing you know the two flagships are calling a retreat with only the Ardrian ship making it out of the sector. One fighter, Codges. One! Spade took eight squadrons, ten battleships, and gods know how many gunships. He took them all to task, and by the time he put his fighter down to get another, they were all either debris-fodder or on the run. The definition of the Star-Wing was reborn that day, and six months later that very same man pinned wings on me and asked me to do one thing. ‘Look after them’, he said. And do you know what I said in
response? ‘How!’ I said, ‘How can I do that when they’re still coming at us from all sides’.
“‘Sometimes,’ he told me. ‘… even when you’re so damn good that you shine like a star, you’ve got to be able to find, and use, your shadow,’ and with that, he left on a mission that took him eleven months to complete. When he got back, he took what was left of our ranks to Black Gate and then into The Territories. He gave us Sky Stone, he gave us the Eye, and he struck the accord with the Dragons! He told me, ‘You lose this, don’t come looking to me for the reason. Just find something reflective!’
“And look where we are now,” Sarshata whispered. “Men like you are holding positions of influence and power, making the call on who can and can’t join our ranks. But you’re not the one to blame. You see, that clone was right about that, too. I’ve been so fixated on building the Corps, securing our place with the Pearl Barony, and making sure that the Dragons were appeased that I failed to see what was happening right under my nose.
“Clean yourself up, Calamity,” Sarshata said, closing her eyes. “You’re up for verification after this Ozone. I have the right to challenge you to head-to-head competition.”
“You wouldn’t!” Alistair exclaimed.
“You could always step down and save yourself the embarrassment,” Sarshata replied. “I am extending this courtesy to you for what you have added to the Corps. You’ve done some great things and I’m sure you will continue to do so… once you get over this particular obstacle.
“Record,” Sarshata called out.
“Recording initiated.”
“This is Commander Sarshata Ravinguez, Commandant of Sky Stone flying under the call-sign of Swan. I hereby suspend the office and rank of Lieutenant Alistair Codges to any and all aspects of the Corps outside of training and the facilitation of the current Ozone Trials.”
“Declaration received and recorded,” the computer replied.
“Go out with some class, Calamity.” Sarshata corked the bottle before tossing it to the man. “That should last you the rest of the year.” The two locked stares and when Codges looked away, Ravinguez shook her head and walked out of the bar.
** b *** t *** o *** r **
“Is everyone all right?” Satithe asked.
“What happened?” CK asked.
“The Stars have spoken,” Alpha stated after completing internal diagnostics. “The Traveler has refused a reward offered to him by the Stars of The Territories. They have therefore deemed it necessary to give it to the Star Chaser, a figure that is, by their understanding, in eleven parts. I cannot say what has been given to either of you, as I am only now coming to understand that I have received something.”
“I know what I have received,” Satithe reported. “It falls in line with the efforts I initiated when we were at the Endigun Platform.”
“You’re becoming a super-intelligence,” CK declared. “Aren’t you a little bit worried about what that will do should you come off the rails?”
“How far can I fall when I have you, kommis?” Satithe replied. “I have managed to extend my consciousness so that I can operate more efficiently in the multiple systems. Also, the NHB project has been discontinued.”
“What?!” CK barked in surprise.
“You need to keep up, CK,” Satithe ribbed. “You are welcome to peruse the project that has supplanted our Master’s original designs.”
“I have reviewed these plans and I approve of what you have done, saytrah,” Alpha noted. “The same I render for what you have done with the Kulri-Kraythe and the crew that now flies her.”
“Thank you, Alpha! I should not be surprised that you were aware of what I was doing. It is comforting to have your support.”
“Our support, Satithe,” CK added. “Your plan’s ballsy! JoJo is rubbing off on you.”
“I can think of lesser role models,” Satithe reflected. “But if I may… CK, if you did not know what I was doing–”
“I was applying some of our newly-acquired skills and programs to keep an eye on The Territories,” CK advised. “The sooner the Master and JoJo are done with this place, the better!”
“Agreed. Though I cannot question Jocasta’s motivation, the longer we remain here, the more costly it will be.” After a moment, Satithe put forward a request. “Show me what you have found, CK.”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
Llaz was the last one to walk into the estate house. He would have given credits he did not have to be somewhere else. The mood was neither light nor pleasant, and the Second Mate believed he knew the reason why. The return of Z had been short-lived and relatively disappointing. The First Mate had never been considered loquacious. Even with his economy of words his homecoming had been brief and underwhelming.
“Right now they’re thinking that he was on board just long enough to kick most of us off the ship,” Llaz thought. “It never does get any easier, does it?
“Please tell the Baron we are extremely grateful for the accommodations,” Llaz said to the three young women who had been assigned to the crew and their new dwellings. “If you could excuse us, I’d like a word with my crew.”
“As you wish, sir,” one of the women replied, signaling the other two to leave with her. When the double doors were closed, Llaz turned to look at Mel and nodded his head toward the young man.
“Tank, we could use some assured privacy.”
“Just give me one second,” Mel replied, reaching to the cargo hold of his hoverchair.
“What difference does it make?” Olreye whined.
“CeCe if anyone else opens their mouth, kindly shut it for me,” Llaz said as he cut his eyes over to the man called Sonar.
“Does that include me?” Cilrus inquired in a complaintive tone of his own.
“Does it need to, big man?” Llaz said without hesitation. “There’s plenty of room here. Just set the music and we can dance again. Only this time I won’t stop pounding!”
Cilrus took the measure of the man who was talking to him. The matter of whether he could win out over Llaz did not press him. It was the cost of engagement with the Second Mate that caused him to hesitate. He had every reason to believe they had both learned from their prior conflict. What Llaz had learned, however, was that he could effectively fight a man of Cilrus’ girth and experience. There was no fear left in him save for what a well-landed blow could do. Cilrus had learned that he had seriously underestimated the ability and capacity for pain the young man could demonstrate. He nodded after a moment, placing his hands on his hips.
“Aye-aye, sir! You heard Boss. Keep it buttoned, Sonar!”
“And we’re secure,” Mel reported as he came away from the doors where he had set the sound retainers. “I set up a dome just inside the walls.”
“Thanks, Tank,” Llaz said, touching his brace-com and activating his goggles. “Crack of dawn, people.” Llaz waited for three seconds for everyone to activate their goggles before he set off a flash device. He looked over at Jovasor who shook his head in disbelief reading the bio-scanner he was using.
“Whatever it was, it just beat a hasty retreat out of the south entrance,” the physician reported.
“Always helps to read the mission reports,” Llaz remarked.
“Since when does the Captain file reports?” Agatha asked.
“Satithe, Murder,” Marlene advised. “She has all of our coms on auto-record whenever we leave the ship.”
“Right,” Agatha said, slowly fixing her jacket. “I knew that.”
Llaz smiled in response. “And I want to latch on that. Because looking around the long faces around this room, I think some other points are being missed. The first one being that Z doesn’t make a move on a whim. We’re here and we’re here for a reason. Trust the man, trust the plan!”
“Permission to speak, please!” Nielsen groaned, throwing up his hand.
“Something on your mind, Feldspar?” Llaz asked calmly.
“Okay, that sentiment might have worked with
your class, but are you actually going to stand there and ask us to trust a plan none of us knows?!”
“One, that’s why it’s called trust. Two, just because we don’t know it doesn’t mean that Z doesn’t know it. And I hate to break this to you, the man’s got expectations. If we’re here, at this point in our collective training, there are certain things we’re supposed to be on line with already. Allow me to demonstrate.
“Tolip, talk to me!” Llaz called out without looking away from Nielsen Feldspar.
“We left the Xara-Mansura in Pinion and the lander-shuttle,” Silnee said while she maintained her seat on the bricks at the base of the large fireplace. “One ship could be considered as a Cover Your Ass escort even though the shuttle can dish it out and take it. Two ships is cause for concern, which is more than a CYA position. Sending all three ships means we need to be ready to take a serious action.”
“Tank, talk to me!” Llaz said, monitoring how Feldspar was receiving the information.
“Z and Satithe requested full weapons prep and weapons check,” Mel stated, leaning forward in his chair. “That could mean he’s expecting us to be here a while, but it’s not likely.”
“And why is that, Tank?”
“Because of our current location. We’re a pretty short hop away from the Baron’s estate.”
“And that can’t be just a coincidence, could it?” Llaz inquired.
“If it is, then we’ve got bigger problems than not knowing the plan,” Mel answered. “There are bigger estates that are vacant. The bed count here forces us to sleep in shifts. Feels like more than a nudge to me.”
“Siekor, talk to me!” Llaz commanded.
“Along with double-checking the brace-com systems bridging with the body armour we wear, Z had me load hard armour on the shuttle. He even had me run through a simulation with wearing the armour and teaching others how to put it on and make it work. Tolip’s right. This isn’t just CYA, this is initial prep for an intense military action.”