Triorion: Awakening (Book One)
Page 19
If only we could have gone with Captain Reht and the dog-soldiers, Jetta thought. We’d have gone back to Fiorah with an armed crew and killed Yahmen, saved our parents. And Jahx, Gods—he wouldn’t be missing—
“None of this is your fault,” Jaeia said.
Jetta hid her face behind a stalactite as her stomach churned. This is all my fault.
She wanted to tear through the walls and run forever, until she reached her aunt and uncle, until she found Jahx. The only way things could ever be right was if they were a family again, even if it was back in a cruddy apartment eating stale bakken and drinking polluted water.
She didn’t notice that Jaeia had climbed up next to her until she felt her sister’s hand on her knee.
“Jetta,” she began, a slight waver in her voice. “I’m worried about you. About us.”
Jetta sat up as straight as she could without hitting her head on the rocky ceiling.
“You don’t,” Jetta said. She tried to sound reassuring, but it didn’t come off as well she would have liked, her voice cracking. “Y-You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Without Jahx, our connection feels different. Your voice is so much louder in my head.”
Listening to her sister’s thoughts, Jetta bristled. “You can’t control me anymore. You’re worried about what I’m going to do.”
Jaeia’s face turned red as she searched for the right words. “That wasn’t the way I was going to put it.”
Jetta let her head fall back against the cave wall, not minding the twinge of pain. “I could have killed that infected thing, Jaeia. And there is so much more that I can do—I can feel it.”
“I don’t think we should use our talents that way,” Jaeia whispered.
“Even for defense?” Jetta’s voice pitched higher and higher. “That is the gorsh-shit thinking that got us here in the first place! If we had ended Yahmen we would have never had to go through all of this!”
Jaeia looked on the verge of tears, but Jetta did nothing to assuage her distress. I’m tired of comforting her during these fights, especially when the answer is so obvious.
With a few deep breaths, Jaeia tried to firm up her voice. “When you use your talents like that, something ugly happens to you. I can’t describe it very well. It’s like all the sunshine disappears, and the world is taken over by something darker than a shadow,” Jaeia said. She trailed off, her eyes disconnecting from the room.
“Well, what should I have done?” Jetta said, leaping off the stone shelf. “Try and talk that thing down as it ripped me in half?”
Trembling, Jaeia beseeched her twin. “Please, Jetta, I don’t want to lose you. When you do those things... they take you someplace I can’t go.”
Though her voice was hardly more than a whisper, Jetta heard the sentiment behind it loud and clear.
“Are you... afraid of me?” Jetta asked, taking a step back.
Jaeia looked up at her, gray eyes wide and frightened. “I love you. You are my sister. I will always be there for you. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me. Promise me you won’t use your talents like that again.”
Jetta stripped off her dirty pants, made her way over to her bed and slipped underneath the blankets. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine being somewhere else, but she couldn’t think with her sister’s presence absorbing her attention.
“I promise that I will try to not make you upset like this,” Jetta said, huffing all the air out of her lungs. “I will try and use our talents only to make things better.”
Jaeia turned away, not reassured by Jetta’s conditional promise.
Why can’t she see our talents may be the only thing standing between us and another vicious enemy? Jetta thought. What if it’s the only way for us to save Jahx?
Jetta shivered, remembering the thrill of electric strength surging through her veins when she fought the diseased creature in the forest. Somewhere within the depths of her unspoken desires, she longed for another such battle.
“We should get some rest,” Jetta said, trying to get her sister to come down off the shelf—but Jaeia didn’t move.
“Goodnight, Jaeia,” she sighed, rolling over in her bed.
Moments later, Jaeia replied, her voice barely audible. “Goodnight, Jetta.”
***
“I don’t get what those things see in the boy,” said an angry, insistent voice. Somebody touched her forearm, and burning pain seared her to the shoulder. Jetta tried to move away, but her limbs felt like wet sand. “They’re obsessed with him when it’s this one that’s been carving up our senior ranks.”
Another voice laughed. “Did you see her take out the Nesseri? Only took two hours. Admiral Parmoran quit that day. Old bastard had been fighting that front for years.”
Everybody laughed. The burning spread into her chest, branching out into her arms and legs. She willed her eyes to open, but nothing happened.
“Yeah, but Rogman’s pushing her too hard. Remember when she was bashing in the walls and hurtin’ herself? That’s nothing. Just wait and see what happens next. The devil owns this one—not Rogman.”
Somebody made a booming sound; laughter followed.
“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you,” the first voice said. The laughter came to an abrupt halt. Jetta could hear only the awkward shuffling of feet. A hand gingerly turned her head from side to side. “What happens if she wakes up?”
“No!” Jetta screamed, sitting straight up in bed. Nothing surrounded her but the dewy cavern walls and the glow of the fruit. There were no voices, only the sound of the wind whistling through the tunnels.
“What’s wrong?” Jaeia asked, squirming her way out of her animal skin blankets.
“Nothing,” Jetta said, clearing her throat and wiping out her eyes. “Just a dream.”
Jaeia brushed away the sleepy halo of hair around her forehead. “I’ve been having bad dreams, too.”
Pulling back the covers, Jetta discovered bandages around her legs. Someone had cleaned and dressed her wounds from the battle with the creature last night.
I didn’t want the wounds to get infected, Jaeia said.
Feeling the sentiment behind her sister’s words stirred up old needs. Jetta carefully made her way over to her sister’s bed and crawled in behind her, resting her head on her shoulder. “Can I sleep here until morning?”
“Yeah,” Jaeia whispered. She paused before adding, “As long as you don’t stink me to sleep.”
“Hey!” Jetta said, poking her in the ribs, “I haven’t been having second helpings of that nasty plant thing Senka cooks like some people.”
The explosion that rocked the cavern froze her heart mid-beat. Erratic gunfire and shouting followed.
A dizzy swell of nausea seized her stomach. Am I back on the Core battleships?
Jetta shot out of bed and ran to the entrance of their cavern, peering around the corner toward the meeting area. She couldn’t see anything, but voices and gunfire echoed down the tunnel, and the stink of plasma discharge made her eyes water.
“What’s happening?” Jaeia asked, creeping up beside her and looking over her shoulder.
“I’m not sure.”
“They’re in danger—the Grand Oblin, Senka—all of them. We should help.”
For a guilty moment, Jetta’s spirits rose. If the others were distracted by some kind of invasion, she and her twin could slip out unnoticed and try again for the Narki city.
“Jetta,” Jaeia said, hearing her thoughts, “I’m not going to abandon them.” Without giving her a chance to respond, Jaeia leapt and took off down the tunnel.
“Jaeia, wait!” Jetta shouted, but it was too late. Jaeia had already rounded the corner into the flashes of gunfire.
“Skucheka,” she muttered, racing after her. Stupid. Why does she do this?
This wasn’t the first time Jaeia had put herself in danger to help another, but Jetta never expected her sister to be so reckless. What does she see in these people?
“Get out of the way!” Rawyll shouted. Jetta dropped behind an outcropping of rock, but Jaeia didn’t listen. Picking up a stone, Jaeia threw it at one of the men firing at Rawyll and Dinjin, hitting him squarely in the temple. As he fell, the other assailant aimed his gun at her. Jaeia dove to one side, but the gunman’s shot hit the wall, spraying pieces of rock everywhere. Jetta flinched as she felt the rock pummel her sister’s body.
Furious, Jetta burst from her hiding spot and tackled the gunman, hitting him squarely in the chest. Even though she was half his size, the impact knocked him backward, sending his gun flying.
Rawyll took aim at the Grand Oblin’s attacker and shot him in the side, toppling him into the dirt.
“Dinjin, go check the entrance for more of them. Crissn!” Rawyll shouted. Crissn peeked out from behind the heap of boulders. “Go with him and check the shields.”
“But Senka is hurt—I should get her to the lab,” Crissn said.
“Now!” Rawyll growled.
Crissn ducked out of hiding and scuttled along with Dinjin toward the main entrance.
Jetta ran to her twin and brushed debris from her face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Jaeia mumbled, sitting up. She spat out a mouthful of dirt and combed her hair back with her fingers. “Just bruises.”
“What got into you?” Jetta asked.
Jaeia pointed toward Senka. “Come on, we should help her.”
“Not so fast,” Rawyll said. He pointed to the two gunman and then to Jetta. “You—help me tie them up. We can’t take the chance that they’ll survive.”
“Jaeia, come with me,” the Grand Oblin said, grimacing as he bent over. “Help me move Senka to the laboratory. You grab her legs.”
Jaeia and the Grand Oblin slowly dragged Senka down one of the aft tunnels, leaving Jetta with Rawyll. Giving him a sidelong look, Jetta crouched down and held the first gunman’s hands as Rawyll produced a length of cord from a storage box in the corner.
“Do you know how to tie a knot?” the tattooed man asked her. Jetta shook her head and sat back on her heels as Rawyll demonstrated several types of knots for binding prisoners. “Make sure it’s tight, and if you have enough, secure the arms above the elbows, too.”
Why would he teach me something I could use against him when he clearly doesn’t trust me? she wondered, but decided not to waste any time pondering and imprinted his skill.
Dinjin and Crissn returned shortly after Rawyll and Jetta had secured the two men. Gasping for breath, Crissn stood with his hands on his knees while Dinjin mopped the sweat from his forehead with his uniform sleeves.
“The trail is clear,” Dinjin said. “I think it was just them.”
Rawyll grunted. “Just these Northies? Their numbers must be down.”
“Those kids have been the only arrivals in months. No wonder their numbers are low,” Dinjin replied, plopping down on a rock.
“At least it wasn’t the Prigs,” Crissn mumbled as he started for the same tunnel Jaeia had descended. “I’m going to check on Senka.”
Rawyll cursed under his breath as Crissn tripped over a rock.
“Can’t believe you and Crissn are from the same stock,” Dinjin chortled. “I thought you killed your young if they showed any signs of imperfection.”
“If you really think we’re savages, why do you ask questions that will get you killed?” Rawyll snapped back. Jetta scooted away a bit, not trusting the tattooed man or his tenuous grasp on his temper.
Dinjin sported a lopsided grin. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”
Jetta knew it wasn’t the greatest time to ask, but her need to know outweighed her fear of Rawyll. “Who are the Northies and the Prigs?”
Rawyll walked over to the large man he had shot and kicked him in the side. Blood gurgled from the Northie’s mouth, and he made a strange sucking sound.
That Northie is human, Jetta realized. He won’t survive these kind of wounds.
“What are those?” Jetta asked, pointing to the blemishes spread across the dying man’s body and clustering underneath his eyes.
“The middle stage of infection,” Rawyll replied curtly, picking up another gunman’s head by his hair and showing Jetta the same blemishes circling his eyes. “The Northies are mostly Scabbers—humans from Old Earth—who were exiled here after the Dominion took over that solar system. Nothing special. They attack the caves every few months once they’ve amassed enough men or stupidity to try for our supplies.”
“The Prigs are worse,” Dinjin interjected. “They’re a mix of outerworlders and rejected Core bastards.”
“I can’t believe the Dominion sends their own people here,” Jetta said as she watched Rawyll check the fat man for supplies.
“Lower-level perpetrators, insubordinates,” Rawyll grumbled, “and apparently you.”
Jetta thought through what they had said, and what she had already learned, and realized the inconsistencies. “The Grand Oblin said they were after your supplies here, yes? And the Macca? That’s why they raid you?”
“Yeah, so?” Rawyll looked up at her, and Dinjin’s eyes narrowed.
“Well, these guys aren’t that sick—you said Sentients don’t last more than a day or two without the suppressant, so there are other sources of Macca or suppressant. And these caves, though a good place to hide, aren’t worth attacking just for the sake of safety. So it must be your supplies. What do you have here that is so valuable that they would risk raiding you? They already have guns, so that can’t be it.”
As Dinjin and Rawyll exchanged glances, Jetta sensed a drastic shift in their control over their conscious thoughts. Invisible ice walls, frigid and towering, shot up around their emotions, blocking her from their psyches.
Frustrated, Jetta wanted to make physical contact to deconstruct their guard, but part of her knew that level of aggression was too much of a gamble. She wasn’t sure what their reaction would be, and she feared her sister’s wrath if she spilled any more blood.
“You’re a smart one, kiddo,” Dinjin said, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Bet there aren’t too many who pull one over on you.”
Jetta didn’t tell him that wasn’t true. “Tell me.”
Rawyll withdrew a gun from his holster and pointed it at her head. “Don’t try any of your tricks on me, little girl, or I’ll have to prove Dinjin’s theory that we Oriya are savages.”
Jetta slowly retracted her mind’s reach, but did not take her eyes off him the tattooed man. He was scared but had no intention of killing her—at least not outright.
You’re lucky you have that gun, Jetta thought, temper boiling.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Rawyll.” Dinjin’s lips compressed into a single line of concern. “We need her,” he added quietly.
Rawyll looked at him indignantly but returned his weapon to its holster. “Then it’s your turn to babysit. I’m taking these sacks down to the hole so I don’t have to smell them all night; we can check ‘em and burn ‘em in the morning. You get to clean up the fat one.”
As Rawyll stormed out of the meeting place, towing the prisoners behind him, Dinjin chortled again. “Ah, you can always count on the Oriya for two things: their ability in a fight and their pleasant company. Not much else, really.”
Jetta ignored his jocularity. “So I guess it’s your turn to not tell me what you’re hiding, then.”
The Kulu kicked off one of his boots and tugged off his tattered sock, wincing as he inspected his foot. Dried blood an
d dirt crusted around denuded skin, and gray-green streaks crept up his foot from his toes to his ankle. It reminded Jetta of the rotting foot fungus she had seen in the Fiorahian mines.
“Lots of nasty things in this place,” he said. “Tralora is just a pot of disease.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Jetta said. “I have to know what kind of danger we’re in.”
Dinjin tossed his boot aside and rested against the rock wall. “Tell me something about you first then. Are you a child of the Roundup?”
Jetta reached out toward her sister to get her input, but Jaeia’s mind was too caught up in helping Crissn and the Grand Oblin look after Senka.
“You do know what the Roundup is, right?” Dinjin asked. “When the Dominion went planet to planet to recruit children into their military?”
Jetta weighed her options. As a USC commander with information about the Dominion Core, he had knowledge she could use—but he would ask her questions in return. She considered stealing his knowledge, but she held herself back, sensing he was trained to detect her measures.
“So what if I was?”
Dinjin half-smiled. “Well, I would just be impressed. The Core does some intense psychological programming. Once inducted, most kids never step out of uniform. The kids that don’t take to it are sent to the front lines, and the ones that do—well, they are the most ruthless. The Core drives any sense of decency out of them.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re something special.”
Jetta frowned. “Stop feeding me gorsh-shit.”
The Kulu laughed and tried to pat her arm, but she dodged his hand. “You must have been a pain in the assino to raise.”
“Nobody raised me,” Jetta said, crossing her arms. “That’s probably the problem.”
Dinjin reached for his boot and tugged it back on with a wince. “The only thing we’re doing here, kid, is trying to protect you—and us—and maybe, dear God, find a way off this rock. There are some things about this place, the people, the circumstances—that kind of thing—that I wish I didn’t know. You get it, right?”