This Work Is Part Of A Series (The Messenger Archive Book 2)

by DC Bastien

  [Ashroe: It's good for that. I don't know about you, but I... I like being online. I can moderate who I see. If I don't like a person, I either don't look at their things, or I block them. No one can see if I'm avoiding answering because I don't feel like it, and because you don't see their eyes when you say something they disagree with... I find it easier.]

  [Sianor: But on the flipside, you can easily misread things, or say something that accidentally hurts someone without even knowing.]

  [Ashroe: True, we are supposed to communicate primarily through tone and body-language. When it's just the words and a few scattered punctuation marks to mark your tone... it can be tricky.]

  [Sianor: Have I ever accidentally upset you?]

  [Ashroe: No! Never. Why, have I upset you?]

  [Sianor: Nope. Promise me... if I ever do... you tell me? Because it was probably not on purpose, and I'd rather know.]

  [Ashroe: But that would undo the world itself! I'm British! We don't do that sort of thing! We queue, even when there's only one of us! We feel guilty when we haven't done anything wrong!]

  [Sianor: So those jokes that go around about the last potato and stuff?]

  [Ashroe: Is completely, utterly based in fact.]

  [Sianor: Wow. And you guys really say sorry all the time?]

  [Ashroe: 'Sorry' is punctuation for us. And a conjunction. And a curse word. Basically, you know how 'fuck' can be used for anything? So can sorry.]

  [Sianor: Sorry you, instead of fuck you?]

  [Ashroe: Yes!]

  [Sianor: But promise me. I'd hate you to secretly be mad at me.]

  [Ashroe: Okay, but only if you promise, too.]

  [Sianor: Deal!]

  ***

  Biann took a seat on one of the chaise longue, but didn't dare recline on it. The teacher, Waith, was lying on one with a tablet held lazily in his right hand. He seemed all too happy to put it down on the small table in front of him when she entered the room.

  "You look troubled, child."

  "No. Just... well. Yes. I ain't gonna lie."

  "You're worried about your friends."

  What point was there in lying? He knew, already, so she nodded. "They'll be fine. I think. It's just... this is not how I normally handle things. I'm used to folks shooting at us, or bits falling off my ship, but... drinking tea and eating cake and having quiet conversations? How is that fixing things?"

  "You've never been involved in the warfare of words before, have you?"

  "Is it that obvious?"

  "You can relax. I'm not going to judge you. This is simply how it's done, here."

  Biann reached up into her bow-strings, and her fingers found the one Loap had given her. It sent a weird, clutching feeling into her core, and she let her hand fall back into her lap.

  "I don't know why. It feels like... it feels like everything I say is being pulled to pieces. And I'm not even important. I'm just the mechanic, who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, s'all."

  "We are all of us in the wrong place at the wrong time, dear child. Do you think Kre wishes she were here?"

  "You know, I'm not so sure." She said it, because it was there in her chest. And, damnit, she couldn't just keep everything inside in case someone was listening. It was the truth! "You asked me a week ago, I'd say she wanted just to preach until her fur went grey. Now? Now... I think maybe she's seeing all what she gave up, and it's... it's..."

  "Calling to her? You think seeing money and power is fogging her mind?"

  Biann nodded, reluctantly.

  "Maybe it is. But she'll decide what really matters to her. If you try to make her choose one thing, she's likely to choose the other. And to think she wanted it all along."

  "...you're saying she only ran away from her family because they wanted her to stay?" It sounded like insane logic to her.

  "Perhaps it wasn't the main factor in her decision, but it will have contributed."

  "But that's just... that's just plain dumb, is what that is!"

  "The Hleen - or Sianar - heart is not always sensible, child." He pushed his tablet towards her. "Look at this."

  She paused for only a second before picking it up, scanning through the video and text. Her eyes went wide. "But, why would...?"

  "Why would the Ardeshir attack a Roq group on a Hleen world?" His eyes were keen, following her face. "Why indeed."

  "It makes no sense! I thought they were all quiet? And they're over the news?"

  "No. It's not been released, yet. That's something Nessin's people are working on. She likes to get my input before things go out to the wider public, to see how best to frame the narrative."

  "To... what?"

  "How best to say things, to get the message across. To pull on the heart-strings in the right way."

  "Still, why did the Ardeshir do it?"

  "My guess is there was something of interest there. And what interests the Sianar enough to risk a diplomatic incident?"

  "Kre? They thought she was there? Why?!"

  "If they were looking for Kre, then they had to have some reason to go there. Don't you think?"

  "But... what happened?" She kept sliding through the images, ignoring the commentary, and going straight for the eye-witness accounts.

  "You aren't going to read the article?"

  "No point. Most of it is opinion. I want the facts."

  "Well, well. No wonder Kre likes you, you've got a critical mind. Very well: from what we can tell, there were two unmarked ships. The article implies they are both Sianar."

  "Why would they send two? Ardeshir used to work in single groups. And why was there an exchange of gunfire?"

  "How do you know that?"

  "Well... there's reports of it, which would make sense if they got rumbled and attacked, excepting you can see on the hull here..." she pointed to a long, black char-line. "That's ship-to-ship. And I don't see any surface-to-air guns, so... they were firing on one another."

  "Well, well. You're right." Waith sounded impressed by her reasoning.

  "So... Sianar and someone else? Someone who doesn't like the Ardeshir, or doesn't want Kre to go home?"

  "If the Sianar were there to take Kre home."

  "But all the attempts on her life have been Roq."

  "...'all'?"

  "Yeah. Twice, now. Wait... three. At least. Pretty hairy stuff." Biann put the tablet back down, and sat a little more relaxed on her chaise. "Things used to be pretty much less with the shooty, but of late it's gone a bit... boom."

  "Could you give me details of these other attempts?"

  Biann bit her lip.

  "Ah... yes. Alright. Think about it, then. I won't push you into it, but if you confide in me, perhaps we can work out who is behind them."

  "Okay. I'm... I'm sorry I don't trust you. It's nothing personal. Or... I guess it is, but it ain't meant that way."

  "It's wise of you, actually. I can assure you I have only Kre's best interests at heart. She... she was one of my favourite pupils, over the years. I'm glad she has a friend like you looking out for her."

  Which made Biann feel like a big pile of dung, considering she'd stormed out after yelling at her.

  "Yeah."

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-One - Mission: Division

  "What do you mean, my family attacked?" Kre was growling, her hackles raised. "Who. What. Why." The questions were barked out, not rising in tone.

  "The evidence is there," Nessin said, waving at the wall-filling display. The footage was blurry, pixelated and the camera was clearly moving fast. "You can see there are Sianar there."

  "But why would you assume it's the Za's household?"

  "Who else has such well-trained troops? And who else would dare to attack a Roq group?"

  "Attack?!"

  "There is clear evidence of a firefight."

  Kre swiped at the ornate coffee-table, upending it. It smacked into the wall, and there was a sound of splintering wood. "No."

  "Kre! Look at th
e facts! Your ship is systematically attacked, your crew-mates framed for crimes, and then there's an attack on a peaceful community. This is Eru. You know what she's like."

  "Do I? Do I really? I haven't seen her in years, truly. And even if I hadn't, I don't think she would--"

  "You don't think she'd do anything to take your position? Neither you nor your sister have married. There's no clear line of succession, which means it's solely on the Za's opinion. If either of you had taken a mate and provided your own heir, then things would be more complicated. You know she's power-hungry."

  "But there is no need to attack Roq! What had they done to deserve that?"

  "What did they do to deserve anything your people did to them?"

  "We've moved on!"

  "Have you? Kre... are you really so out of touch with what your people want? I'm sure if you polled them, a significant number would still consider the Roq to have less rights than Sianar."

  "Yes... fine! Why do you think I left? Do you think I like to be associated with that? To be reminded every time I look in a mirror that my mane, my name, all that I am, comes from the oppression of another race? Do you have any idea what that's like?"

  Nessin was up, and grasping her forearms in a heartbeat. "No. I can't. That's why I need you to tell your side of the story. I need you to sell it. I need you to rally your people around a new future."

  Her head was spinning. She felt oxygen-weak, her limbs starting to shake, her stomach tangling into a tighter and tighter knot. "But..."

  "You could do it. Kre, Eru would push your whole race back. You have to see that, don't you? You might not want to take the Za's role, but would you really give it to her?"

  "She didn't kill him."

  "Kill who?"

  "Cil. I don't believe it. I don't - I can't believe she would kill him."

  "This isn't about your brother. I'm going to sound harsh here, but you need to hear it: he's gone. It's only you and Eru, now. And I know who I would rather was in charge. I know your sister."

  "You... do?"

  "Yes. She attends things on your father's behalf. I've become closely acquainted with her, and I know what she's like."

  "But... how do you know what I am like?"

  "It's my job. I read people. I can even read them when they're gone, because the act of leaving, the gap, says something, too. Kre... go on a broadcast. Accept your father's position. Call for change. Denounce this attack. You'll have everyone behind you: the Sianar will follow you as a stronger voice than your sister's, and one your father trusts. The Roq will follow you, because you fight for their rights. The Hleen will love the intrigue of it, and the Humans... well. The Humans will only care if it affects them financially."

  "I... I..."

  "You can do it. You know you need to, don't you? You know. That's why you left. Kre, you can be the great reformer. You can bring about change across the galaxies. You can alter the future of your race. You can make a difference."

  "I cannot drag my sister through the mud."

  "Even when she tried to kill you?"

  Kre's eyes sharpened to a predatory slit. "What?"

  "I have the proof. She paid those Roq to attack you. She wanted you out of the picture, and she wanted the Roq to be blamed, so she could go back to driving them down. Kre, Eru is evil."

  The chaplain's claws scraped eight, deep gashes into the polished floor.

  ***

  [Ashroe: Can we just--]

  [Sianor: Yes.]

  [Ashroe: And then when they--]

  [Sianor: Yep.]

  [Ashroe: But then--]

  [Sianor: Sometimes I wonder why we even bother trying to communicate, when we meet up, we'll do that crazy eye-flicker thing, and nod. And everyone will back away.]

  [Ashroe: True. But we just... we wrote that thing and then they did the thing.]

  [Sianor: I'm actually pretty damn pleased they did.]

  [Ashroe: Well, me too. It means we were on the mark. But... we're going to have a bit of a problem with the fact canon now has a brother, not a sister. And Mission: Return to Sender may well be my favourite episode that doesn't have Ithon in it.]

  [Sianor: Mine, too. I prefer Eru to Bir. He was a bit of a damp sock.]

  [Ashroe: And Ail isn't how I imagined him, either.]

  [Sianor: No, but it's nice to see him.]

  [Ashroe: Now I kind of wonder if we're going to end up altering our Ail to be more like him.]

  [Sianor: I think some of it is going to happen. Like, we won't be able to help ourselves. Not to the point of making our Ail completely different from his starting point, but...]

  [Ashroe: Meeting in the middle. I get you.]

  [Sianor: And our little fangirl went nuts on the archive.]

  [Ashroe: I mean, it was pretty obvious the foreshadowing. Wasn't it?]

  [Sianor: We picked up on it. I'm sure other people did, too.]

  [Ashroe: Maybe people didn't write Ail so much as we did, though.]

  [Sianor: You do realise we've got one of the longest fics on the archive in this fandom?]

  [Ashroe: ...really?]

  [Sianor: I'm surprised you don't have a spreadsheet on that.]

  [Ashroe: I'm in a not-reading mode. If I was reading as well as writing, I'd never sleep.]

  [Sianor: Well... yes. Anyway, there's one longer that seems to be a bang-a-thon with every possible pairing, threesome or moresome included.]

  [Ashroe: Oh god, what is it called?]

  [Sianor: Uhm. Archimedes Screw.]

  [Ashroe: I almost expected it to be called 'Mission: Make Them All Fuck'.]

  [Sianor: I was kind of drawn by the title, and then I saw the summary, and I just... I was intrigued. But it's sort of like some insane porn-nightmare. There's the barest hint of a plot and then just... boning.]

  [Ashroe: Oh, it's just a bit too good to be funny. I like my badfic to actually be bad. You know, the throbbing members or the love caves. The rape-as-plot-device.]

  [Sianor: They can write, I'll give them that. There's not much in the way of typos in it. It's just that it's more bumping bits and I need... more than just bits.]

  [Ashroe: We're going to be so far away from canon. I mean, we kind of are already, but that's because we went into a little plot. And now they're overlapping with us again, it's going to cause difficulties.]

  [Sianor: I'm not complaining. It's becoming the show it always hinted at, the one that drew me in.]

  [Ashroe: It needed to. There was a brief lull in ratings, probably in backlash about the Saidhe thing. This... this was good. And I know that people were tweeting about it, too.]

  [Sianor: Are you still on twitter?]

  [Ashroe: I have it. I use it, but not all the time. Mostly the character-limit gets to me so I use it for bumping ratings rather than anything else. Screw the metrics in a positive light.]

  [Sianor: I made one, but I never used it.]

  [Ashroe: And... next week? You know I avoid spoilers, but...]

  [Sianor: Yes! He's back. Your baby is back. It's called 'Mission: Example'.]

  [Ashroe: Laying it on with a trowel, much. The Ur-Example?]

  [Sianor: Hey, the badly named episodes are sometimes the best.]

  [Ashroe: True. You know I'm going to be insufferable until I've seen the ep. Just... tell me if he dies.]

  [Sianor: What?]

  [Ashroe: Just... a sad face. And then I can be prepared.]

  [Sianor: But if you're not being spoiled, you need to not be spoiled! Why would you even want to know that?]

  [Ashroe: So I know if I need to be drunk to watch it or not. Or book the next day off to mourn with flapjacks.]

  [Sianor: Flapjacks?]

  [Ashroe: Don't judge my bereavement coping mechanisms!]

  [Sianor: I'm not, I'm just surprised you said flapjacks.]

  [Ashroe: When in doubt, revert to childhood. I'd always get flapjacks made me when I was sick, and then my mum made them when my goldfish died, and since then I associate them with death.]
/>
  [Sianor: There is something deeply wrong with you.]

  ***

  "You sure about this?" Vadim asked.

  "I am."

  "You really think it's wise to go off on your own?"

  "Son, I was 'off on my own' before you were even born. But you know that."

  "I do." Still, it didn't make it any easier. Even if the Judge technically didn't outrank him anymore, he once had. He was a good man, and he was part of his crew. He'd let him down back on Lineon, and now he had a second chance. "I just... don't like the thought of you running out, is all."

  Peters put a hand on his upper arm, smiling. "You don't need to worry about me."

  "We just found you again! And now you want to go off to Draqqi? Why?"

  The Judge took a seat on the edge of the table, patting beside him. Vadim hopped up with him, not even caring that it made him look like he was following orders. Whatever. Ithon would be the only one to see it, and he wouldn't say anything. There was just something so honestly reassuring about the Judge. You felt like if he had a plan, it was normally a good one.