by Max Jager
Jameson waited a moment, listening to her work out of his field of vision. He tried to turn over again out of curiosity, but was aware this time that more than simple weakness was keeping him from moving. A dull pain reverberated through his body.
"How bad—?" He hesitated, uncertain he wanted to know the answer. "How bad are my injuries?"
The girl paused. "Well, you managed to break just about every bone in your body. That wasn't a problem. We've dosed you up on half a dozen drugs mending that as we speak. But you had some internal bleeding, a few ruptured organs, and your cybernetic implants took a fair beating. Your whole nervous system is kind of on reboot."
Jameson blinked his one good eye, surprised at the girl's appraisal of his situation. Then again, there was a lot he still didn't know. She seemed too young to be a trained doctor, and as far as he knew she wasn't a Nereis…at least, not the way Mathison had described them. But she had said they were in a Nereis city, which meant they must be under water.
"Ambassador suite," Jameson voiced aloud, finally making the connection. "It's pressurized for visitors, isn't it? For people who can't breathe under water."
"Pretty much," the girl replied. "You're the only human for miles around. Like I said, you're a VIP around here. I'm only allowed to tend to you because of my vow."
There was still so much Jameson didn't understand. But he had other immediate, worrying problems.
"How long will I be stuck like this?"
"A couple of days at most. After that, we can start physical therapy and try to sort out your implants. Until then, you'll have to eat out of a tube. Sorry about this…"
The tube in question suddenly appeared in Jameson's field of vision. A sudden rumbling in his stomach made him readily accept it as she gently slid it past his lips. As far as mush went, it wasn't the worst, but the bland flavor helped take his mind off the thought of the girl having to tend to him as if he were a cripple.
Well, he was a cripple. For now at least.
"My name's Madeira, by the way," the girl—Madeira—continued. "I don't actually live in Aegean. More or less its suburb, just down-shelf along the ocean floor. But the ambassadorial suite was here in the city proper, which meant I got to come here with you. Because I was the one who rescued you when you fell in, of course. Since then, the tershas who own the suite have had to put me up here. Ha! They're not so happy about that."
Jameson continued to sip at his mush while Madeira rambled on. She seemed quite pleased to be here, chatting away as if this were some sort of high honor.
For Jameson, unfortunately, he still couldn't get that fight with Axus out of his head. The seeming finality of falling overboard and to his death. Once again, he had failed to stop the bastard…and now he was planning to do far worse to Gibraltar than he ever did to the Fleet.
"That's enough for now," Madeira said suddenly, pulling the tube free from his mouth. "Try to get some rest. If you sleep through most of it, then we can begin getting you up and moving before you know it."
"Wait," Jameson breathed, his voice hoarse. "My gear…did you salvage any of it?"
Madeira hesitated. "Yeah. I'm sorry, but I couldn't get it to work. I have a friend at the Raft City, Furrow. He can probably get it working and we can contact your people."
Jameson gritted his teeth. "I came alone. I just need to get in touch with my ship."
"Does it have a registry tag I can have someone call?"
Jameson mentally swore. Yes, the Crimson had one, but he had intentionally silenced it when arriving at Aquarius. He had intended to ghost in and catch Axus by surprise. Right now, the only way he could reach the Crimson and Mathison was via his armor, and if this Madeira girl was right, that was currently out of the question. He would have to wait until he was healed enough to go to her friend and get it fixed.
"Never mind," Jameson groaned. "Just…never mind."
"Whatever," said Madeira. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. The sleeping drugs should start kicking in soon…"
They did. Jameson soon found himself drifting in and out of dreamless sleep. He knew he was awake every time his thoughts started centering on Axus again.
How had the bastard done it? How, after all this time, had Axus managed to get the drop on him again? Jameson had prepared so long for this day. Four years and Axus still was his better.
But it wasn't over. Twice Axus had cast Jameson into oblivion. And twice he had escaped death.
He still had a chance.
Eventually he surfaced from his slumber, a new girl standing over him that wasn't Madeira. Her hair was much darker, her skin not quite as pale either. She wore much less, too, letting the colorful swimwear show off her curvaceous figure.
"Well, well," the girl began, her words dripping with self-importance, "you are the famed human who survived a fall to the depths of Aegean."
Jameson turned to look at her properly, noticing that his body wasn't as sore or as weak as before. That was a good sign.
"My name is Kora," the girl said. "Kora Vermilion-tersha. I know it is a human tradition to shake hands, but do not expect familiarities from me."
Jameson frowned, eyeing down towards her bare legs. Aside from a negligible set of shiny orange flecks running delicately along the tan skin, she did not look the part of a mermaid.
"I thought the Nereis were merfolk," Jameson replied simply.
Kora chuckled, annoyance bubbling near the surface. Jameson could already tell he didn't like this girl; she was way too pretentious. "The drugs have made you dumber than usual, I see. Well, as most humans like to use that ridiculous analogy, I guess you could say we are like merfolk."
"Then where's your tailfin?" It was genuine enough question, especially after everything Mathison had told him. But he also knew it was making her uncomfortable and seeing her squirm under that sneer was amusing to Jameson.
"Typical human. You do not know anything of the Nereis, do you? We are apt at land and sea. Our tails can be shed for land use and grown again in a night's time to return to the sea. A superior trait, clearly."
Interesting. So she essentially had to sacrifice her tail and time in the water to make this visit. Jameson knew from Madeira's excitement that it was worth the time, but he was trying to piece together what this self-important gal was doing here.
"Tersha," Jameson repeated, remembering part of her name. "Your family owns this suite?"
Kora nodded, mildly pleased. "Yes. We have taken it upon ourselves most painstakingly to look after your wounds and injuries."
"Then where's the girl from before?"
That finally cracked the façade in Kora's contained arrogance, breaking forth to disgust. Venom flared in her eyes.
"That lowly eska is of no concern. She is away tending to menial duties."
"No, I'm right here," Madeira announced suddenly, striding into the room.
Jameson tilted his head, glad at least to see one familiar face. For the first time he noticed the same kind of glittering flecks along her bare legs, only these were more of an aquamarine color.
Kora straightened up, placing a hand on one hip and cocking her head with annoyance.
"Eska, I told you that you were not needed…"
"It's my vow, tersha. I must attend to him. You know the ancient ways."
Kora grunted in disgust, switching to a few quick words in a language Jameson didn't recognize. Then she stormed out abruptly.
Jameson glanced up at Madeira. "I hope I didn't get you in trouble."
Madeira grinned, waving him off. "Ah, it's nothing. The worst she called me was a Silver, and, well, that's true enough. I don't know if you've noticed, but she kind of likes to bitch. It helps her feel better."
Jameson smirked. At least he and Madeira had one thing they agreed on.
"What was that language she spoke in?" Jameson asked offhand.
"Oh, just Nereis Common."
"Nereis Common?" Something occurred to Jameson. "You speak Gibraltarian."
Madeir
a nodded. "Mhmm. I wasn't kidding about the Silver thing. My family taught me Gibraltarian growing up right along Nereis Common. My house has always been bilingual."
Jameson blinked, surprised. While he didn't know titles, he was certain that as far as social hierarchy went, Madeira was lower on the totem pole than Kora was. He could tell now, too, that Kora only had a rudimentary basis for Gibraltarian. She had spoken in slow, basic language. Madeira knew it forwards and backwards fluently.
Yet, while all of this was interesting, Jameson still needed to get in touch with Mathison.
Sitting up slowly, Jameson groaned as his body weakly protested. Pain flooded his senses.
"I wouldn't do that just yet," Madeira said, fidgeting with more medical equipment.
"I don't have time to sit around," Jameson snapped. "Once I get in touch with my ship, I have a medical suite that can attend to me."
"Yeah, well you can't get in touch with your ship. So you might as well rest."
Jameson was about to argue, but he didn't have enough steam to actually sit up. As much as he wanted to get going now and catch Axus's trail while it was still fresh, he just couldn't.
Just like he couldn't all those years ago the first time.
Exhaling loudly, Jameson laid back down flat against the bed.
"Well…since I'm not going anywhere any time soon…mind telling me more about how things work for the Nereis?"
Madeira lit up, her pastel blue eyes glowing with elation. Apparently she didn't mind at all.
"Okay, first off, let me explain the whole tail thing. I'm sure you're just dying to know more about that…"
Offer
Chapter 14
Offer
* * *
Gibraltar space
Columbia Star System, Planet Columbia
Planetside Fleet Academy Medical Suite
* * *
Four Years Ago
Jameson floated in a realm of nightmares and pain.
The vision of the Station exploding around him replayed dozens of times in his dreams. His environment suit couldn't protect him from the flames. Then it wasn't the flames burning at him, but the H1 radiation. He watched as it dissolved away flesh and bone, leaving him little more than stumps, pulled and battered in the vacuum of space.
Eventually he stopped seeing the Station exploding, but watched as the explosion consumed Sal and Jester and even Rappel or Kaitlin. Although he saw all of their faces, he could still hear Sal's screams. He even watched the H1 radiation consumed them too, their bodies melting away into gore and blood.
Finally, while tumbling through his nightmares, he watched the Station's explosion spread to consume Warwick. Then his home station from his earliest childhood. He even saw planets and worlds across Gibraltar catching flame, burning hotter and hotter.
Then the visions and nightmares ended, but the pain was still very real.
Real enough to make Jameson wake, staring up at the white tiled ceiling over his bed. Every part of his body felt on fire, from his skull down to his arms and hands, through his abdomen, and down to parts of his legs. He twisted, trying to turn over, but that caused such a flare up of pain that everything dimmed black.
When he came too again, the pain had subsided, but it still pulsed excruciatingly in the periphery of his senses. That was when he realized he could only see out one eye.
Reaching up tentatively, he felt at where his right eye should have been. He recoiled in shock when his fingers touched a metal shell. He recognized the sensation: cybernetics.
He had lost his right eye. Where it should have been was a new, cybernetic one that wasn't booted up yet. He still could only see out his left eye.
Holding up his hands, he blinked in shock again. He was missing several fingers on his left hand, replaced with dull gray-green colored implants that responded to his nerves. At least those were working.
Painfully, horror sinking into his gut, Jameson pulled himself up into a sitting position. It sent fresh waves of pain through other parts of his body—no doubt where new implants had been installed—and managed to get his first look around the room.
It wasn't a room so much as a hall, lined with other soldiers and patients, some far worse than he. Many were still in bandages, the white material stained with fresh blood. Others were still out, but hooked up with so many cybernetic implants that it was hard to tell where organic ended and machine began.
There was also a dog, much to Jameson's surprise. It lay a few cots down from him, awake but unmoving. It was missing its two front legs.
Jameson shook his head, turning his attention to himself. He had several new metal grafts across his chest; no doubt replacements where the H1 had burned holes straight through him. There was also a good chunk of his right leg now laced with fresh cybernetics. At first, it was all interesting, Jameson reviewing the components and surgeries from years of studies and memory.
Then the horror crept back in again, and Jameson realized he was a monster. Just like all the other survivors.
The shock overwhelmed him. He didn't remember passing out. Eventually he woke again, two familiar faces standing over him: Kaitlin and Rappel. He wasn't in the hall anymore, now in a large room with a lot less patients. The dog, a German shepherd he now recognized from its breed, was still a cot over from him. It had received two cybernetic front legs.
At least Jameson's implants were buzzing with pain anymore.
"Hey Jameson," Kaitlin greeted wearily. Jameson could see the disgust in her eyes; seeing him all laced up with metal and machinery. "You've been in and out for the last week."
"I'm not even going to ask how you feel," Rappel muttered encouragingly. "But at least you've got a lot more color in your face."
Jameson tried not to let the discomfort in their expressions distract them. He knew what he must look like. He knew he would look like it for the rest of his life.
"The Station," Jameson croaked. His throat felt dry and sore. He was surprised there weren't cybernetics in there as well. "The Fleet…how much left?"
Rappel bowed his head. "It's gone, Jameson…it's all gone."
Jameson inhaled sharply. Impossible. There was no way anyone could take out the entire Peacemaker Fleet.
Impossible.
"Might as well cover all of it," Kaitlin began.
Jameson listened briefly as the two of them recounted the devastation caused by Axus's surprise ships. They were loaded with some of the most unstable explosive compounds the Fleet has ever identified. They were unmarked, of course, and no one else had claimed any responsibility for the attack. Draconia was naturally feigning innocence.
It didn't matter. Jameson knew well enough who was responsible.
"Sal," he suddenly spoke up. "Where's Sal? I heard her screaming…"
Kaitlin and Rappel shared a knowing look. Jameson didn't even have to ask. He felt his heart sink deeper and deeper.
"Only a handful of Fleet personnel escaped," Kaitlin began. "You and Sal are to thank for that. If someone hadn't stopped Axus's sabotaged hardware…the few of us that survived wouldn't have made it out."
So Sal was dead. As well as nearly everyone else. Who did that even leave among his friends?
"Jester didn't make it either," Rappel continued. "Botros, Ionas…I guess it wouldn't matter now, but neither did Lizzy, or Chela, or Strange…"
Jameson swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. He suddenly felt very dizzy.
"And Axus," Jameson managed to grunt. "And his cronies? Where are they now?"
"No one knows," Kaitlin whispered. "They got away."
They got away, destroyed the Peacemaker Fleet in one fail swoop, and slaughtered his friends…
Jameson felt himself slip out again, back into black oblivion. He didn't have any more nightmares. When finally he awoke, Kaitlin and Rappel were gone. It was also darker, the floor to ceiling windows across the room displaying starry night sky.
The next few days were a blur for Jameson. He was va
guely aware as they moved him to other rooms, gradually diminishing the number of other patients that shared the space. He watched as they nursed the German shepherd back up to health and gave it several other cybernetic implants. No one could tell him where they found it or its name. Most of the staff just called it Grade. It was already walking around on shaking legs by the time they booted up Jameson's new right eye.