by S. H. Jucha
Alex sent privately to Renée.
With a rather silly grin on her face, Nikki announced, “I believe that settles the question.”
Swiftly, the audience was subjected to the Crocians’ ear-stunning roars of approval.
When quiet returned to the conference hall, and the audience resumed their seats, Nikki turned to the empaths. “I make one request,” she said. “Kindly remain absent from whichever meetings the complainants attend.”
Kasie stood. “Your request is unnecessary, President Fowler. Empaths don’t administer our services to individuals who don’t wish them.”
“Ever?” Nikki queried.
Kasie got a funny smile on her face. “We’ve been known to help those in distress,” she said, which had most of the audience quietly chuckling, chittering, or rumbling. “The first known incident of that occurred with my ancestor, Aurelia Garmenti. She was adopted by a spacer captain, Jessie Cinders, and his crew. She used her powerful skills to relieve the drudgery of their duties. The crew felt her daily relief. They’d never requested the service, and supposedly, never objected to it.”
With no other business to discuss, the conference meeting was adjourned early. There would be one more afternoon of meetings, and then the conclave would conclude the following morning.
As everyone expected, except the media, neither Leader Teressi nor the Veklocks abandoned the conclave. However, the empaths vacated those meeting rooms when the complainants appeared.
Teressi snorted at Kasie, as she passed to leave, but she ignored him, which gave him no satisfaction.
Beaks were clacked at the two empaths who left the Veklocks’ room. In retaliation, the triumvirate found themselves minimized in the negotiations. It was a lesson they quickly registered.
* * * * *
Twelve days earlier, Jess Cinders had read Alex’s message. “We’re requested at Sol,” he said to Lucia.
“Both of us? When and what about the outpost?” Lucia retorted quickly.
Jess chuckled. “Admirals seem to always want to be in control.”
“Old habits,” Lucia relented.
“Alex says we’re needed there immediately. He hopes we arrive before the conclave concludes,” Jess explained. “Also, we’re to bring Mickey.”
While Lucia considered the ramifications of the request, she ordered a Trident for the journey. “You better make arrangements for our absence.”
Jess smiled at his next thought, which is how Major Sam Fleetfoot and Commander Tacnock, slurping on a fruit juice, found themselves in the commander’s suite. Jess was feeling good about his decision to keep Sam at the outpost rather than send him with Kasie.
“Emergency request from Alex,” Jess said without preamble. “The admiral, Mickey, and I are sailing within the hour. Sam, in my absence, you’ve responsibility for the outpost. Tacnock, your presence is opportune. Your forces have just taken leave. We’re leaving the carriers and their forces in your hands until we return.”
Tacnock’s slurp ended in midstream, and Sam laughed. “So that’s what it takes to quiet our voluble friend,” he remarked.
Tacnock placed his drink on the low table in front of him. “I thank you for the honor and the trust,” he intoned. Then he happily snatched the fruit juice off the table. Slurping loudly, he gazed at Sam over the container.
“This ought to prove interesting,” Sam commented, laughing.
Lucia swept into the room, with two packed duffels. “You two play nice while we’re gone,” she quipped.
“Good fortune,” Jess said to his friends, who nodded and exited.
Lucia tipped her head toward the salon’s door that had just slid closed. “Shall we?” she offered, and Jess picked up both duffels and followed Lucia out.
* * * * *
As the conclave prepared to conclude, Jess Cinders, Lucia Bellardo, and Mickey Brandon dropped planetside at Sol. It was late evening Earth time.
the trio heard in their implants from Alex.
Mickey teased.
Alex replied seriously.
The trio knew what the individuals would receive from Julien. They would be awarded small percentages of Omnia Ships — tiny quarterly points of a massive income flow, which would change their lives over the next decade.
Lucia requested, driving to the point.
Alex sent.
Mickey sent.
Alex sent, his thought tinged in humor.
Lucia sent. There was no humor in her thought.
Alex sent. He’d just been reminded by Renée that the outpost still fought the Colony.
Lucia surmised, understanding the dilemma.
Alex sent.
Jess inquired.
Renée interjected,
Alex asked.
Mickey replied.
Alex replied disappointedly.
Mickey corrected.
Alex queried.
Alex, Renée, and Julien heard the trio’s laughter.
Jess sent.
Mickey sent.
Renée sent.
Mickey’s deep barrel laughter echoed in implants.
Jess sent. His good mood evaporated, while the time dragged for Alex and Renée to respond.
In the few spare moments, Jess contacted Hector and requested a link to any incident involving the empaths.
Hector complied, without being aware of the conversation that was managed through Cremsylon.
Jess swiftly forwarded through the scenes in the corridor and the conference hall.
Meanwhile, Julien alerted Alex and Renée to what Jess was viewing.
Alex’s fists bunched. He was reminded that Jess wasn’t the captain he’d first met. He’d become adept with an implant. By pausing to consider his words, he’d lost the initiative.
Alex sent, arefully to the full extent of Leslie and Talsoma’s comments. They were testaments to the empaths.>
Julien sent privately to Renée and him,
“Black space,” Alex swore under his breath.
Julien added.
Alex sent.
Alex waited for a response. Then Jess dropped off the conference.
Lucia sent hurriedly.
Alex sent.