Triorion: Awakening (Book One)

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Triorion: Awakening (Book One) Page 10

by L. J. Hachmeister


  I hate that I can’t steal motor coordination, Jetta thought to herself. Such a shortcoming could easily result in defeat against a stronger opponent.

  Jetta stepped forward, not letting her shorter and smaller stature stop her from getting in Stempton’s face. “I’ll take you, and everyone else in this Academy down.”

  “Whoa!” Stempton guffawed. “You’re even dumber than you look.”

  “Burn her, Stempton,” one of his cronies said.

  “Stupid rat,” another teased.

  “Alright,” Stempton said. “And after I beat you in the Endgame, I’m going to make sure you and your ratchak siblings pay for your lip.”

  Glimpsing the imagery behind his words, Jetta saw her neck in his grips, face bloodied and smashed to a pulp, begging for him to stop.

  The dark undertow from within washed away Stempton’s fantasy with a wave of unexpected confidence. You will win, and you will make him pay.

  “After I beat you,” she said. “You’ll wish you’d never crossed me.”

  Stempton’s cronies yipped and howled.

  With a smug grin, Stempton pointed his hand toward an Endgame console. “It’s on, little launnie.”

  Except for Stempton’s followers, none of the other kids paid their game any attention. Besides, when Jetta took a seat opposite of Stempton, her entire body seemed dwarfed by the swirling holographic globe.

  “This is going to be a slaughter,” one of Stempton’s friends snickered.

  I can do this, she told herself.

  Her brother and sister, standing behind her, sent her their assurances. With shaky hands, she logged into the console. A score of battleships, fighters, ground units, a warship and base of operations materialized in blue, facing off against Stempton’s red fleet within the globe.

  “Little launnie in the gutter,

  No one loves a rat,

  Your momma’s smoking jihja

  And your daddy’s getting whacked.”

  Stempton sang the song of the Fiorahian slums just loud enough for her to hear as the game initiated.

  That ratchakker, she fumed. He learned that song just to get inside my head!

  Her anger only magnified as she fumbled with the controls. By the second verse of the song, she no longer heard her brother and sister as the fire roaring in her chest, and the intense need to win the game, dominated her senses.

  “Little launnie in the gutter,

  Broke and full of woe,

  Float downstream away from me

  To the Block where you will show.”

  After glancing at the score, Jetta bit down on her lip. Stempton’s already up by fifty points.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched him deftly operate the controls, cutting into her forces left and right while she struggled to type in the commands to keep her fleet together. It won't be enough just to imprint his knowledge.

  Rogman’s face appeared in the holographics, his mustache twitching as the memory of his words played out in her head: Your kind are either streetwalkers or trade meal.

  I will not be sent back to Fiorah. I will not be beaten by this Mugarruthepeta, Jetta thought.

  “Four and twelve you might have gotten

  If your face was not so rotten,

  Hurry up and die already

  So this all can be forgotten.”

  When Stempton finished the song, he directed his full attention toward the game. Sensing his vulnerable mind, Jetta saw her chance to use her secret talent.

  I will only use a little, she promised herself. She couldn’t help the giddy feeling tickling her stomach, or keep the smile from her face.

  Pushing away from the connection to her siblings, Jetta traveled beyond the realm of Stempton’s gaming knowledge, digging into the roots of his psyche.

  “Come on, Stempton,” she whispered. “Make this easy for me and maybe they’ll ice you out so you can go back to Mummy and Daddy. Don’t you miss them? Or do you think they forgot about you?”

  Jarred by the mention of his home life, he accidentally ordered two of his ground units into her line of fire. Her smile broadened as a group of kids massed around their game and Stempton’s cronies fell silent.

  “Jeez, Stempton—it’s not like a Crexan with a Deadskin Mummy is going to get very far anyway. You’re human. You’re weak. You’ve polluted the Crexan bloodline.”

  She won the game in less than thirty minutes.

  Red-faced, Stempton left without saying a word, taking his gaggle of followers with him. Jetta grinned. She wouldn’t ever have to worry about him again, and if she did, she knew right where to hurt him.

  None of the other kids congratulated her, and the crowd quickly dispersed as new games started up.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Jetta said, moving to the stadium seating with her brother and sister. They took a spot on one of the many rows of benches that formed a circle around the battle sims, with an excellent view of the main Endgame console, so they could watch—and steal—from the next match. You’re going to caution me about my methods.

  Jaeia and Jahx both looked at her, concern pinching their brows.

  Just wait, she said, turning away from them. Soon you’ll be doing it too.

  ***

  A week later, when the teachers started to assign matches, Jaeia found herself pitted against Shiggla. Now a sophomore cadet with a solid Endgame record and a knack for getting under a player’s skin, Shiggla was the toughest opponent any of them had faced.

  “Uck. I have to play the rat? Come on...” Shiggla said, making sure to voice her disgust loud enough so Jaeia could hear it across the barracks. “It’s like pickin’ on the handicapped.”

  Jaeia remained quiet as she walked to the game room with her siblings. Trailing only a few meters behind Shiggla and her obnoxious entourage, she probed the sensitivities of her opponent before the match even started.

  How am I going to do this? she worried, sensing the depth of her opponent’s knowledge. She’s much better than me.

  “She’s a jackal,” Jetta warned her as Jaeia sat down at the Endgame console. “She won’t go easy on you.”

  “Great pep talk,” Jaeia muttered.

  Jahx put a hand on her shoulder. “Just be patient. Your opportunity will come.”

  “Thanks, Jahx,” she said.

  Shiggla’s Trigonian upbringing made her cocky and bold, and it showed in her playing style.

  You can’t keep retreating, Jetta called out to her as Jaeia pulled back her front line. She’s eating up your ground units.

  She’s too aggressive. I can’t keep up, Jaeia said, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

  Another battleship blinked out on the holographics.

  (I’m caving.)

  Shiggla’s followers cheered her on as she trounced Jaeia’s moves, and she played it up to her hungry audience. “Time to send the launnie back to the gutters!”

  No, Jaeia thought. I can’t lose. We can’t go back to Fiorah.

  Keep calm, Jahx called out to her, trying to soothe her anxieties.

  She didn’t hear him, or her sister pushing strategies across their psionic bond. I’m not losing, she panicked, seeing Yahmen’s face in the shadows of the shifting holographics. (I have to use my talent.)

  Diving beneath the surface of Shiggla’s consciousness, Jaeia unearthed the subconscious desires that manipulated her opponent’s choices. She wants to capture my warship to maximize her point total and boost her rank in the standings.

  No, that’s not all, she realized, stripping away the darkest layers of Shiggla’s past. The secret behind her ambition…

  “You’re pretty good,” Jaeia suggested to Shiggla. Speaking in what sounded like normal tones, Jaeia worked her way inside her opponent’s head with a heavy psionic push. “But I hear your brother Soling is the real competitor. Isn’t he like fifty spots ahead of you? You’ll have to beat me and everyone else by at least two hundred points for the next month to even hope to catch up.”
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  No way, Jetta projected. You get to use your second voice on Shiggla?

  Shiggla’s cheeks bloomed red as she moved her ground units too aggressively against Jaeia’s base, leaving herself exposed. Locking her fighters on Shiggla’s ground units, Jaeia commanded the remainder of her fleet to target the warship.

  “It’s hard having a sibling who’s better than you at everything,” Jaeia continued as she set up for the final attack.

  It’s only a little push, Jaeia rationalized to her siblings.

  We don’t know how your second voice will affect her behavior, Jahx cautioned. Not every species responds the same.

  And things usually get out of hand, Jetta added.

  She won’t even know I’m doing it, Jaeia downplayed.

  “I know how it is,” Jaeia said to Shiggla, voice ringing out across the psionic wavelengths. “You end up as an afterthought. Or just plain forgotten.”

  Shiggla’s face contorted in bewilderment, her lower lip trembling. Jaeia put out her battleship in a seemingly open sector, and Shiggla, distracted, fell for the trap, her pieces demolished in seconds as Jaeia sprang her hidden forces.

  “How did you do that?” Shiggla asked, watching her own rankings drop on the scoreboard. Panic reduced her voice to a whisper. “Do you even know what this does to me?”

  Members of Shiggla’s entourage gathered around her as she wept and wailed.

  “Jeez… I’ve never seen her like this,” Jaeia overheard one of the cadet’s say.

  “Chakking rat,” someone else said.

  Jetta pulled both of her and Jahx out of the game room before things got ugly.

  On the verge of tears, Jaeia turned to her sister. What did I just do?

  Jetta held the emotion out of her voice. “What you had to.”

  ***

  As he faced more and more upper-rank opponents, Jahx found himself no longer exempt from using his unique talent.

  I don’t want to resort to these measures, Jahx said, taking his seat at the Endgame for his next match. This is dangerous.

  But you’re not even trying, Jetta said, envy slipping through her words. You know you could do so much more.

  Please, Jetta, he said, keeping his eyes trained on the console. He could see himself from within his sisters’ sights as they watched him from the stadium seating. I don’t want to have this argument right now.

  “Jahx—what kind of ratchak name is that?” asked Teahvo as he sat down across the console to play Jahx. A hulking Sentient with multiple limbs and amphibian feet, Teahvo spoke through a translator since his species lacked the proper vocal cords to speak Common.

  Beat him, Jahx. He’s just another bully, Jetta said as she and her sisters watched from the stands.

  No, he’s not, Jahx replied, sending her images of his opponent’s own torments. Ostracized and teased by the other cadets, Teahvo lashed out at others to protect himself from further harassment.

  Of course Jahx sees things differently, he overhead Jetta grumble to Jaeia.

  That’s his gift, she replied.

  Power gone to waste, Jetta said.

  No, he thought to himself as the game started. You don’t understand my talent.

  Before Teahvo even made his first move, Jahx closed his eyes and reached across and inside his opponent.

  I see you, he thought, touching the brilliant light within Teahvo’s core. Weaving his fingers within the threads of Teahvo’s being, Jahx saw every action and outcome of their game play out across the psionic plane.

  When he opened his eyes, Teahvo moved his battleship above Jahx’s base of operations, thinking he could launch a final attack. “Suck it, launnie.”

  “Good game,” Jahx said, bringing about his hidden corvettes.

  “What?” Teahvo exclaimed. “How could you—”

  I know you, Jahx thought as Teahvo scrambled back to his defensive line. I see every part of you.

  Still deeply entrenched in his opponent’s mind, Jahx could not help but feel part of Teahvo’s loss as the scoreboard tallied up the points.

  “Want to grab dinner with me?” Jahx asked after nabbing the closely-fought battle.

  “Go chak yourself, launnie,” Teahvo said, spitting on Jahx’s boot.

  Jahx extended his hand. Having gleaned enough of Teahvo’s native language of Gr’wy, he tried to speak a few words as a peace offering. “Uk’ep id’p.”

  Teahvo wouldn’t have it. Later on that evening, Jahx found his bunk trashed, the mattress torn to shreds and his datapads smashed.

  We can’t let him get away with this, Jetta said, kicking Jahx’s bunk as Jaeia took an armful of ruined linen to the disposal.

  Just let it go, Jetta, Jahx said, picking up the shattered pieces of his possessions.

  Why are you always holding me back? Infuriated, Jetta tore into the deepest wound between them. Why are you holding yourself back?

  Shoulders slumping forward, Jahx accidentally dropped his collection. Jetta, I—

  No! You don’t even know the ends of your own power because you refuse to explore it beyond your ridiculous need to help others.

  What would have me do, Jetta? Jahx said, turning to face her. He matched her gaze, unfaltering even as she poured her frustrations into him.

  Wordlessly, Jetta shared her darkest desires. With even the slightest whim, you could unravel the very fabric of a person’s being. But you don’t. Not even against thugs like Teahvo or beasts like Yahmen.

  And you think I’m weak for that? Jahx asked.

  Hey you two, stop it, Jaeia said, rushing back from the disposal. Taking each of their hands and linking them together as three, she flushed them each with good memories. We’re in this together, remember?

  Jahx looked in Jetta’s eyes, past the barriers she believed would keep him out of her most private thoughts. My empathy does not make me weak.

  Yes, it does, she said, arresting him before he delved too deeply inside her inner world. And it will be your downfall.

  ***

  As the days turned to weeks, Jetta eagerly embraced her powers. With each game she got more used to seeing through three sets of eyes, and found her psionic voice becoming the loudest as her confidence soared.

  When’s my next match? she thought, sitting cross-legged on her bed and scrolling through her datapad for the latest game assignments. At least seventy other cadets had requested to play her, Jaeia or Jahx.

  This is great, Jetta thought, seeing all the student names crowding her lineup. I’ll beat each one of you. Then you’ll hang your heads like whipped dogs and whimper your excuse to any sympathetic ear.

  “Hey, where’s Cam?”

  Jetta looked up, surprised to see her brother back so soon from his gaming strategy final.

  How do I tell him? she thought to herself as her brother eyed the empty bed above his.

  Jaeia popped her head over the edge of the top bunk. We have to tell him the truth.

  “Two soldiers escorted Cam out,” Jetta said, keeping a neutral tone. “They said something about him cheating on the biochem final.”

  Jahx gripped the bedpost, knuckles turning white, and kept his response within their private link. He never cheated. It’s just an excuse.

  Jaeia swiveled around and dangled her legs off the bed. “Sorry, Jahx.”

  Cam, Iggie, Tomia, Jetta said. Just a few of the cadets that showed us a shred of respect, even if it was just to share a bunk. Where are they now?

  Discharged or transferred, Jaeia answered.

  Or they just disappear, Jetta said. Not to upset her siblings, Jetta kept the rest of her thoughts to herself: Why do the teachers—why does Rogman—want to isolate us and keep us friendless?

  Jahx plopped down on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. “Rogman is now offering a week’s shore leave to anyone that can beat us.”

  “A week?” Jaeia exclaimed.

  “Yeah,” Jahx said, eyes losing focus. “As if we weren’t targets already. As if anyone here needed an ex
cuse to come after us.”

  Jetta showed them the text alert on her datapad. “And he’s giving us exemptions from tests. Look here—he’s authorized me skipping my calculus final.”

  “Special treatment. Great. Everyone will know,” Jaeia sighed.

  “Exactly,” Jahx whispered.

  After consoling her siblings as best she could, Jetta pretended to return to her datapad.

  I don’t care if Rogman is messing with us, or if we don’t have friends. She lowered her datapad and gazed down the rows of bunks, seeing more than the cadets catching up on homework or getting extra rest. She saw the entire Academy and all the battle commanders of the Dominion Core lining up in front of her, even the Sovereign. A smile spread across her face. I will beat you all.

  ***

  As the semester came to a close and the final battle was set to determine the Endgame champion, Jetta found herself pacing up and down the aisles of the game room, eager to meet their opponent. After securing the top three spots, Jetta and her siblings expected to play one another for the Endgame title, but once again, the commandant changed the rules at the last minute.

  “None of your previous scores matter anymore, cadets,” he told them earlier that day, his mustache poorly masking the smug look on his face. “Lose this battle and you’re all iced.”

  Through an Academy-wide bulletin, the siblings found out that Rogman had selected a special opponent outside of the Academy for one of them to challenge. Some of the other students protested the triplets’ perfect scores and wanted them to challenge each other to sort out the ranks, but their complaints didn’t get them very far. Even Jetta thought it peculiar that the teachers hadn’t arranged a fight between them. I’m glad I don’t have to fight my brother and sister; I can’t imagine anything worse than pitching our abilities against each other. Even if I won, it wouldn’t be a victory worth celebrating.

  Students and teachers packed the game room while soldiers with silver-sealed eyes and loaded rifles lined the stadium staircases and gaming floor, keeping the excited crowd a few meters back from the central Endgame console. Standing on the far side of the console, across from their opponent and his entourage of older students, Jetta and her siblings discussed their strategy.

 

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