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

by DC Bastien

  Which meant all this whining was him being petulant and panicking, not rational and sensible.

  "Because the situation is very tense at the moment."

  "More so than usual?"

  "Yes. There's been unrest on both sides of the line between the Roq and Sianar. I didn't notice it until we had the problems on Adquem, but then I started to see threads."

  "Uh-huh."

  "I know you're going to find it hard to believe, but I do have a little acumen in this old skull of mine." Peters rapped a knuckle to his temple. "And this attack - kidnapping a Roq - especially a Hale - will be like fire to gunpowder."

  "Is everyone on my crew freaking special? I've got Sianar royalty and Roq... what do we count him as? A breeding stud?"

  The Judge chuckled. "Don't let him hear you say that. It's entirely possible that you are drawn towards interesting people, Captain. It's also possible that someone pushed the threads in your general direction."

  That got him a frown. A confused, puppy-dog frown. The one he usually used on susceptible ladies (and sometimes Ith).

  "I'm serious. Now you're on the big playing field, things are... different. There's no such thing as chance when the stakes are this high. The house knows all the cards."

  "Except the ones I hide in my sleeve."

  "Which aren't legal moves."

  "Only if I get caught."

  "Breaking the law is still illegal if you don't get caught, Captain. It's not a matter of observation changing the facts, no matter what Kre's said to you."

  "Damnit, so I can't use the Uncertainty Defence in court?"

  "Afraid not."

  "When I find her furry butt, I'm going to court martial her, and air-lock her."

  "That seems a little extreme."

  "Okay. I could just put her in a cold bath for hours instead, but then the ship will smell of wet fur."

  "They're going to be okay, you know."

  The small smile on his face faded. "Yeah."

  "They will. You pick good people."

  "I pick good people who then run off on me," he said, with a sideways glance. He was still hurting about that, but hurting more that the guy had hooked back up with Avery before him. Sure, they all had history, but he was part of Messenger, just as much as he was an Ur-official.

  "And by 'run off' you mean 'are chased by dangerous individuals and put in mortal peril and have to take cover to save their backsides'?"

  "Yeah." A grin, albeit a slight one. "How we gonna keep in touch?"

  "This..." Peters reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device. "It's biometrically encoded to you. Avery has one, too. You'll be able to hail me, or get dead-drop co-ordinates. If I'm available, you'll get through to me. In the unlikely event of my demise, there'll be assistance. Just don't use it until you need to."

  "Right." It was a warm, round metal object, silver and plain. In the centre was a single black screen, which Vadim assumed would need his thumbprint and maybe more to activate. "What about if you want to get in touch with us?"

  "Believe me, you won't be hard to find for me. Not if all goes to plan on Draqqi."

  "You ever gonna tell me the plan?"

  "Not when you might have it tortured out of you, no."

  A groan, and a knee to his. "C'mon. You know they wouldn't break me."

  "I know that anyone can be broken," he replied, a little too seriously. "And you assume I have a plan."

  "You always have a plan."

  "I always act like I have a plan."

  "So all these times we've bowed to your strategic cunning?"

  The older man smiled, and tapped a finger to the side of his nose. "It's an old leader's skill. Speak with enough authority, and stand square-on, and people will believe you."

  "You're a wicked, wicked man. A charlatan. A con-man."

  "I never said I had plans. You always assumed."

  Vadim had to grin in reply. "Fine. Go, then. Go make nice with the lizard-men. We'll just find some way to storm into one of the most well-protected buildings on all of Jazibe. Not like it's a biggie."

  "You broke into an Ur-court."

  "Yeah, but those guys are total douches."

  "Take care, Captain."

  "You too, Your Honour."

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Mission: Ignition

  "You sure me coming will help?"

  "I'm sure. The only reason I didn't take you to the first hearing was that I got up early, and you seemed tired, Saidhe. It was not a judgement against you."

  "I just... I worry I'm going to say something wrong, or embarrass you," she admitted, rubbing at her arm. "It's not that I find your people intimidating, it's..."

  "I understand. This group have chosen to live only amongst others of my kind. They are more insular than most, and acting like this on a Hleen world such as Jazibe? It gives off a distinct 'vibe'."

  "I hope you don't think I'm being offensive of prejudiced."

  "I don't. I... feel a little embarrassed myself. It is not that I disrespect the old ways, or the customs, but if you wished to live in isolation, coming to another core world is a strange thing. It's almost colonial passive-aggression."

  "Yes! Like, if you're going to move, why don't you integrate? Not that I'm saying kick communities off planets. Just that... I don't even know. It's complicated. It's all complicated. I don't understand why people don't just get along."

  "Well, I can understand - to my chagrin - why some Roq do not 'get along' with Sianar. It's a deep-seated issue, but one that we can overcome. I never thought I would warm to Kre, and yet... I would fight to the death to defend her, now."

  "How much interaction with Sianar had you had before Kre?"

  "Minimal. Superficial, at best. Some of my kind will go so far as to refuse to buy from a Sianar, or enter a building when one is there. I did not avoid them to that extent, but I would never have gone out of my way to speak to one."

  "Until Adquem, I'd never really got how it must feel for you. You and Kre."

  "I think, though, that for the most part, people's prejudice is primarily down to ignorance, and malice is usually only meant by a small handful of people who truly do not care for others, only themselves."

  "Well... it also comes through teaching." She shrugged, and her gaze drifted down. "Originally eyes like mine were considered a genetic aberration. Technically it's true. It's just now we know it's not actually detrimental to health, reproduction or intelligence. But the prejudice has continued."

  "I do wonder how the Captain managed to get such a group," Loap mused.

  "Well... I know how he got me and B. But not how he got you. You just turned up one day, with your shiny ship..."

  "Messenger was hardly shiny."

  "Alright," Saidhe agreed, with a grin. "With your rusty ship, full of promise and potential. A Human and a Roq, crewing on a fixer-upper? Offering to take two girls away on a mission of fun and adventure?"

  "You were mis-sold."

  "Yes, we were."

  Saidhe squinted up at the sky, watching as broad-winged birds - nerns - drifted with lazy wing-flaps on the thermals. They were native to Aniba, and it was just like the Hleen to import them wherever they went. Harmless, they were. Their wing-spans were wide enough that they could cause damage if they weren't so peaceful. She remembered listening to their trilling calls at night, through the screen windows, when Biann had already fallen asleep.

  "You aren't going to let me dodge this, are you?" Loap asked.

  "Nope. Not anymore. You always come up with some terrible reason not to spill."

  "It's really not that interesting."

  "Then why won't you tell me?"

  "Because I--" Loap stopped, a shadow cast over his face making him jump. "What are you doing--?"

  Saidhe turned, and was surprised to face a furry wall of muscle. Her eyes tracked up the pale belly, towards the Sianar's face. It was one she didn't recognise, but she did recognise the make and model of the gun pointed at her.<
br />
  "Come quietly," the Sianar snapped, a show of teeth as he bit out the word.

  "What are you doing here? Why are you threatening us?"

  Saidhe watched in some sort of dull horror as Loap stood between them, and her legs plain refused to work. Everything went slow. Slow and distant, like a recording played back at half-speed, muted.

  "Come with us, or there will be injury. We have people around the Elders' building, prepared to go in. If you comply, they will not be hurt. If you do not..." There was a gesture with the long, silver barrel.

  "Who sent you? Why are you here? Under what authority--"

  The pistol smacked into Loap's jaw, and there was a rattling sound of teeth on teeth. Saidhe watched as his tail went stiff, and his hand went for a weapon, but she could move again and she grabbed at his tail, at his elbow... desperately trying to stop him.

  "Loap, don't."

  But just a second after that, the Sianar had a paw around Loap's throat, lifting him up and pressing him against the wall. His legs came up, struggling, scratching, and his hands were clawing at the paw that was strangling him. "Saidhe, run!"

  It was too late, though. Saidhe had already committed to her movement, and she was leaping up onto the Sianar's shoulders, her hands clawing at his ruff, her feet braced on the taller being's thigh. The Sianar turned his head and snapped near her neck, and she flattened herself to him, holding on for dear life. "Let go of my friend!"

  Which he did. But he kicked Loap hard, and then flipped, grabbing her face and slamming her head back into the wall. For a moment, it didn't even hurt. Then... oh boy, then it did. It blossomed like fire through dry paper, and although she could still see, it was like the images weren't connected to anything in her head, or like they'd gone translucent to the point of no longer mattering. Instinct kicked in and she kicked and slapped and clawed, trying to get free.

  The paw over her mouth was heavy, and making it hard to breathe. The short, fine fur went up her nostrils and she could smell the heady musk of his excitement. His paw slid higher, obstructing her nose, and she knew she had only moments left before she blacked out... or worse. She tried to bite at the leathery pad, but he didn't even flinch.

  "Saidhe, no!"

  Her eyes slid sideways, sighting down the Sianar's other arm, past his gun, to where Loap was standing. His hands were up in a submissive, supplicating gesture. She wanted to say something, to tell him to run, to stop fighting, to do... something... but instead the burbling noise barely left her throat as she blacked out.

  ***

  [Ashroe: Yo.]

  [Sianor: Honey.]

  [Ashroe: Darling.]

  [Sianor: Pumpkin-pie.]

  [Ashroe: Angel food cake.]

  [Sianor: Sweetie.]

  [Ashroe: Deep pan pizza with stuffed crust and extra cheese.]

  [Sianor: Wait, what?]

  [Ashroe: Sorry, I thought we were talking food we liked.]

  [Sianor: I... guess. I've just never heard of pizza being a term of endearment.]

  [Ashroe: No, I literally thought we were just naming edibles.]

  [Sianor: Sigh.]

  [Ashroe: Why so glum, chuck?]

  [Sianor: I don't know.]

  [Ashroe: One of those days?]

  [Sianor: I guess. I got into a pretty stupid fight with my mom. It wasn't even about anything. And I feel... I feel shitty. My head hurts, my limbs ache, my me feels like... like I could just lie down and sleep if only I could get off to sleep. Like I could sleep for three days and hopefully wake up fine.]

  [Ashroe: Oh, bb. I'm sorry.]

  [Sianor: I don't want to dwell on it. I just feel emotionally drained when my body kicks off, you know?]

  [Ashroe: I know. Well. I can only begin to imagine how it feels for you.]

  [Sianor: How was your day?]

  [Ashroe: Wonderful. I spent an hour and a half on the phone to our IT people.]

  [Sianor: Uh-oh.]

  [Ashroe: I'm not an idiot. I know the basics of computers. I begin to wonder if they do, though.]

  [Sianor: Why, what happened?]

  [Ashroe: The wall socket went. I know it was, because I tried a different PC. I also tried a different cable. And I tried my cable in the other PC. And then I tried my PC, same cable, different wall socket. It's the wall socket. But would they believe me? No.]

  [Sianor: Why?]

  [Ashroe: I don't know. I guess there's nowhere in the manual for coping with people who can use logic to deduce things.]

  [Sianor: But surely they should be happy you worked out the problem?]

  [Ashroe: No. It upsets the Script. It's like talking to people who've been brainw-- sorry. Conditioned. Dialogue zombies. No improv or stand-up between them. They do what the paper says and nothing more, nothing less.]

  [Sianor: Sounds... fun.]

  [Ashroe: Yeah.]

  [Ashroe: Wasn't one of your papers due back?]

  [Sianor: My last one. Yep. I handed it in a day early. Now it's just... waiting.]

  [Ashroe: So, you done all your exams? Your... finals?]

  [Sianor: Yes. That paper was my last thing to do. I'll know in a couple of weeks or so what the results are. I'm... I'm nervous, as well as excited.]

  [Ashroe: I'm really happy for you.]

  [Sianor: I won't know what to do. I guess I should call up my aunt. See if her friend still wants a grunt like me.]

  [Ashroe: You know, when I graduated, I was terrified. I'd been in education so long, it was like leaving a prison or the army for the big, bad world. Once I got a job, it became more regular again, but in that gap between... I was lost. I had no real reason to get up at a particular time. It was surreal. I'd stay up until the sun came up, just... because.]

  [Sianor: You are not painting a good picture for me, here.]

  [Ashroe: Ah, I grew out of it. But for a while, I nearly turned into a mad lady, drinking coffee at two AM.]

  [Sianor: How long did it take you to find a job?]

  [Ashroe: Well, the economy was a bit better back then, but it still took me seven months. I signed on, then I was on an agency's books until I could get a permanent post. Even then, I had to go in at entry-level. All that crap about 'a degree shows a level of dedication and academic skill' was bull. If you didn't get a specific degree, like a science one or something, then it was pretty much worthless. No one respects a degree for what it is, unless it's the Right One. Or... no one I've found, anyway.]

  [Sianor: Gulp.]

  [Ashroe: Hey, I got a job now.]

  [Sianor: Did you have a dream job, as a kid?]

  [Ashroe: Yes. Wizard. Dragon-tamer. Indiana Croft. That kind of thing.]

  [Sianor: You wouldn't have a normal profession in mind, would you?]

  [Ashroe: Screw normal, I want a dragon.]

  [Sianor: I wanted to be a teacher. Back before I got sick. I wanted to be one, because one of my earliest memories was of learning to read. And how excited it made me. And how encouraged I felt.]

  [Ashroe: I learned to read and write at home. I was a precocious pain in the ass. But yeah... books were my safe-haven, too. When I started being a bit more serious about jobs, I considered being a librarian. But the quiet would get to me.]

  [Sianor: I also wanted to be a vet, briefly. Until I realised you had to do bad things to pets, too. And I wanted to be a forensic scientist, but that was only for about a month.]

  [Ashroe: Spy. Or just hero. Basically, I wanted to be the protagonist. Not hero, protagonist.]

  [Sianor: Isn't there a saying about that, about how we're all the heroes of our own stories?]

  [Ashroe: It's a lie, though. Some people cast themselves as the villain. And why not? The villain has more fun. We just get to see the fall.]

  [Sianor: Unrelatedly, I see you and Imphart had another run-in.]

  [Ashroe: I can't help myself! I know I shouldn't feed the trolls under the bridge, but... it's so funny to see what he comes out with!]

  [Sianor: It made me laugh. I don't think he realised
you were running circles around him.]

  [Ashroe: I'm going to sound hypocritical now, but... why, WHY do some people assume there HAS to be a love interest? That just because a male and a female of reproductive age are in contact, they have to smooch? And that the guy gets to pick?]

  [Sianor: Yes, the unspoken assumption that whoever Kip picked would automatically agree to date.]

  [Ashroe: I'm not saying any of them are asexual - although they might be - just that the end-game is not always smoochy smoochy. And when they give us the kissy fun times? It often ruins the dynamic. Not because it closes off other potential ships, but because the unresolved sexual tension was fun. Okay? Fun. I said it. The chase can be as good as the catch, if not better.]

  [Sianor: So... I shouldn't have put out?]

  [Ashroe: If this were a story, then maybe not. But it's not.]

  [Sianor: So you think Superman and Louis Lane should never date?]