by S. H. Jucha
The defenders, Jess, Kasie, Tacnock, Bortoth, and Daktora, along with Salsinona, settled into cabins aboard the Rêveur. They did notice again the eerie similarity between a dome’s mister and the liner’s refresher. Salsinona sighed with pleasure when she discovered her bed had the same properties as her seat on the traveler.
As the fleet sailed out of the Sylian system, Kasie and Salsinona spent time with Esteban, as did Bortoth and Daktora, who were a dome administrator and a console operator.
Jess, Tacnock, and Sam were often seen together. Occasionally, they were joined by Olawale and Patrice to discuss the alliance, the federacy, the human colonies, and Sol. Olawale noticed that he could rarely engage Jess about Pyre.
* * * * *
“Might you have some time for me?” Juliette asked Lucia, as the commodore was about to retire.
Lucia, Juliette, and the few survivors of the Judgment’s security team had returned to the Trident.
“Certainly,” Lucia replied. After removing her jacket, she made herself comfortable on a couch, and Juliette sat across from her in a chair.
“As a SADE, I’ve often considered that I might live to see the rise and fall of many races, including the human species,” Juliette said gently. “I’ve time to enjoy the company of many partners through the ages. You’ve lived a quarter of your life, and you’ve spent it alone. Why is that?”
“You’re prying,” Lucia replied, glaring at Juliette.
“If that commanding stare is supposed to intimidate me, Commodore, you’re testing it on the wrong type of entity,” Juliette said. She continued to speak softly, hoping to entreat Lucia to talk.
“Never mind,” Lucia said, in dismissal, and dropped her eyes.
“But I do mind. I want to help,” Juliette replied. “Captain Cinders appears to be genuinely interested in you. He was hurt, when you rebuffed him.”
“He’ll get over it,” Lucia remarked testily.
“Why should he have to endure that, and why should you deny yourself the pleasure of his companionship?” Juliette pressed.
Lucia’s face hardened.
Juliette chose to try a different approach, but she’d barely uttered a word, when Lucia snapped, “Because men can’t be trusted!”
“Men can’t be trusted to do what?” Juliette coaxed.
“To protect you. To defend you,” Lucia said harshly.
The commodore had tears in her eyes, and Juliette had never seen this vulnerable side of the woman.
“Alex protects us, and he’s a man,” Juliette reasoned.
“I’m not talking about professional relationships,” Lucia argued.
“Who hurt you personally?” Juliette asked.
Lucia stared at Juliette. Old memories of shock, anger, and humiliation swam through her mind. She’d kept her secret from everyone. No one knew why she’d been declared an Independent. The embarrassment of that ugly event was difficult to admit, but it had been decades ago. And Juliette was right about one thing. She was tired of being alone.
With a truly deep sigh, born of carrying a secret for too many years, Lucia’s tense shoulders slumped, and she said, “My father declared me an Independent, and my mother said nothing. He and I had argued a lot for more than a year. One morning, House security overrode my bedroom door’s code and pulled me from my bed. I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to my family or to pack personal things. He was my father. He was supposed to protect me. Instead, he threw me away.”
Tears streamed silently down Lucia’s face, and Juliette waited quietly. After a little while, Lucia rose and used the cabin’s refresher. When she returned, she appeared drained but composed.
“Captain Cinders, Jess, risked his life to rescue those in the non-alliance dome, when the Colony invaded,” Juliette said. “He consistently placed Kasie and you in the safest portions of the assault teams. Despite our losses, our people came to trust him. Perhaps that’s because he always led from the front.”
“He’s a good man,” Lucia admitted.
“Who’s in lust with you,” Juliette noted.
“You mean in love with me,” Lucia corrected, before she remembered she was talking to a SADE.
“I’m quoting Kasie, who as Jess’s sister and an empath should know what her brother feels better than any of us,” Juliette said.
“Whatever his feelings were, I’m sure they’re not there anymore. I stomped on them hard,” Lucia pointed out.
“You’d be correct, if Jess was a shallow man,” Juliette reasoned. “Do you believe he’s like that?”
Lucia laughed. It was weak, but it demonstrated signs of her emotionally bouncing back. “Captain Cinders is stubborn, demanding, and even overbearing, but he’s not shallow, by any means.”
“You make my point,” Juliette allowed. “You might have stomped on his feelings, as you said, but a resilient man, such as the captain, might not be so easily dissuaded.”
“What are you suggesting? That I go to Jess and beg to be reconsidered,” Lucia said hotly.
Juliette laughed lightly. “Well, Commodore, I would suggest that whatever you choose to do that you don’t do it in that frame of mind.” Her remark elicited a chuckle from Lucia, who worked at rebalancing.
“Then what?” Lucia asked. She felt completely out of her depth.
“Find a good time to sit down with the man and talk, Lucia,” Juliette said. “Perhaps you should start with the story of your father.”
“And if Jess doesn’t forgive my rude behavior?” Lucia asked.
“Then he’s not the man you deserve, but you’ll be better prepared to give the next one a chance,” Juliette said. Then she stood and silently left the cabin.
-17-
Pyre’s Story
In the days following the fleet’s sailing from the Sylian system, nerves settled. The challenges of Sylia faded.
An evening meal ended, and a Méridien started the affair. He’d been a survivor of the assault. The man stood, faced the lead table, and waited. Soon the entire dining room assembly joined him.
“It’s an invitation to speak,” Olawale said to the six defenders. “It’s a Méridien tradition that we’ve adopted. Guests are asked to share stories, which are recorded and passed on.”
Jess quickly became aware that the other defenders, including Salsinona, were staring at him. “Thanks,” he grumbled softly to his friends. To Olawale, he asked, “Any limitations?”
“None,” Olawale replied.
When Jess stood, the assembly resumed their seats.
“When you first view Pyre, you’ll wonder how it obtained its name,” Jess began. “You’ll see a green planet with lakes and rivers, and you’ll think that the planet had been misnamed.”
Jess left the head table and wandered toward the room’s center. “But you might think differently if you saw the planet as it was seven centuries ago, when it possessed a hot surface that spewed noxious gases. It had an atmosphere choked with dust and ash.”
Turning slowly around to regard his entire audience, Jess held up a single finger. “Ah ... but then you might ask how the colonists could have transformed such a world. The answer is ... we didn’t. The surface heat wasn’t produced by volcanic action. It was artificially introduced. Heavy energy weapons had bombarded the planet.”
“We were the culprits,” Tacnock said, rising from his seat. He didn’t want his friend to have to denounce the Jatouche. “The Jatouche were in a war with the Gasnarians, the previous inhabitants of Pyre. We thought our societies were integrating well. We were wrong. The Gasnarians betrayed us. The conflict lasted for years, and it ended on Triton, the planet’s third moon. We hoped to defeat the Gasnarians by eliminating control of their dome. As a result of our protracted fight, we ended the race’s capability to survive on their planet, and in a final effort to win, a team of Jatouche sacrificed their lives to shut down the dome.”
Kasie added her voice to the story. “Centuries later, the Honora Belle makes an emergency departure from its intend
ed trajectory. The colonists’ expected awakening process wasn’t followed, and that created a political nightmare for the next three hundred years. The wealthy established a foothold on the planet, living comfortably in domes. Everyone else got by with crowded conditions aboard stations or ships.”
“Enter our story’s heroes,” Jess said, warming to his narrative. “They’re the great-grandparents of Kasie and me, Jessie Cinders and Harbour.”
“By the way,” Kasie interjected, “Harbour was the name adopted by every leader of the empaths.”
“Captain Cinders was a spacer,” Jess continued. “While exploring Triton for rich deposits, one of his several crews discovered the collapsed dome. Through a fluke action on the part of a tech, the console’s power was reconnected, and the dome was activated.”
“Until this time, Na-Tikkook, the Jatouche home world, was ruled by a succession of males,” Tacnock added, picking up the story. “However, the most recent monarch had only daughters. The eldest was Her Excellency Tacticnok. When she heard from her dome administrator that our dome’s console indicated the Gasnarian Q-gate was active, she took a team to investigate. We didn’t find our old enemies; we found new friends.”
Jess laid a comradely hand on Tacnock’s shoulder, and he continued the tale. “At that time, humans weren’t part of the alliance, but the Jatouche were members. However, the Tsargit, the alliance’s ruling body, imposed severe constraints on interactions with non-alliance members. Not to be deterred, Jessie, Harbour, and Tacticnok found ways of working around those restrictions.”
“It was their exploration of non-alliance domes that caught the attention of the Tsargit,” Kasie said. “It’s also when the Pyreans, Jatouche, and Crocians discovered the Colony’s expansion into non-alliance space.”
At the mention of their race, Bortoth and Daktora roared with pleasure and pounded the table with their meaty fists.
“Credit must be given,” Jess said grinning. “The alliance learned about the Colony’s menacing tactics from the three societies you see before you. During the next centuries, other races joined what was called the Pyrean Resistance. The Sylians were one of the first races to fight.”
Jess indicated the head table. In response, Salsinona stood and tipped her head in acceptance of the honor paid her world.
“Unfortunately,” Kasie said, “the Resistance only succeeded in slowing the Colony’s usurpation of the non-alliance domes. You’ve seen how difficult it is to retake a dome either through the tunnels or through the gates after the Colony occupies it.”
“Then you came,” Tacnock said, holding out his hands and turning in a circle. “Now, our hopes are rekindled. You’ve risked your lives and lost them to return the Sylian dome to the rightful inhabitants of the system.”
“And,” Kasie interjected forcefully, “your extraordinary friends, the SADEs, have obtained the knowledge that may end the Colony’s expansion.”
“For your efforts and your sacrifices, we thank you,” Jess said humbly.
The defenders received a mix of recognition for their story — Méridien-born stood and silently offered a leader’s salute, and those from New Terra clapped and stomped their feet.
When the noise ran on, Olawale said to the Crocians and Salsinona, “Stand and tip your snouts down in a grave manner.”
As the threesome did as requested, the other defenders caught their motions. Then they stood together and bowed their heads in appreciation. It ended the applause and salutes.
After the defenders returned to the lead table, Olawale said, “That is, perhaps, one of the better stories I’ve ever heard.”
“The longer version is even more entertaining,” Jess remarked, with a grin. “Unfortunately, it would probably take a month or two to tell.”
As the diners filed out, Juliette sent,
* * * * *
Three weeks later, the fleet transited into Crimsa space. Orbit determined a closer approach to Pyre, and the fleet executed a second maneuver that placed the ships below the ecliptic and near the habitable planet.
Olawale invited the defenders to the liner’s bridge.
“Jess, we’re on approach to Pyre,” Olawale announced. “We’ll be within your planet’s orbit in less than half a day. Whom do you wish to contact?”
Jessie and Kasie shared questioning glances. They’d been gone long enough that those individuals in political positions had more than likely changed.
“Let’s start with JOS security. They can direct us,” Jess said.
“The what?” Patrice asked.
“The Jenkels Orbital Station is the primary orbital station,” Jess replied. “It used to be tethered to a downside dome, but that connection was terminated. Then the JOS lifted to a higher orbit.”
“I have the Pyrean comm protocols,” Esteban announced. “Waiting to intercept a security call.”
A few minutes ticked past, and then Esteban said, “I’ve a contact. Will Major Paul Lindstrom do?”
Jess nodded. Then moments later, the SADE added, “His device is inactive. I’m activating it.”
Tacnock’s bushy eyebrows waggled at Jess, as if to emphasize what he’d said about the exquisiteness of SADEs.
“Major Lindstrom,” a voice said over the Rêveur’s speakers.
“Major, this is Captain Cinders.”
“Jess Cinders!” Paul exclaimed. “We gave you and your sister up for dead.”
“Not so fast, Major, I’ve got a lot of living I still want to do,” Kasie quipped.
“People will be glad to see you two. I’ll send word to Triton to give you priority transport,” Paul offered.
“That’s unnecessary, Major,” Jess replied. “We’ve our own transport. In fact, we’ll be over Pyre before the end of the day. You’ll soon be apprised of a fleet approaching you from below the system. Please, let everyone know we’re friendlies. I don’t want people to panic.”
“You arrived by ship?” Paul asked. His voice had pitched an octave higher by the end of the question.
“It’s a long story, Major,” Jess replied. “Right now, we need to speak to the current president.”
“That would be Leslie Finian,” Paul replied. “I can connect you.”
“Please,” Jess said, smiling to himself.
Immediately, a voice said, “Finian.”
“What fools elected you president?” Jess demanded, and Kasie snickered. Leslie was a contemporary of theirs and a good friend.
“Jess, you reprobate, I knew you were too obstinate to be killed by insectoids. Is your sister with you?”
“Here, Leslie,” Kasie called out enthusiastically. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear your voice.”
The bridge group could hear some snuffles over the speaker. “I missed you two,” Leslie said.
“I hope you’re sitting down, Madam President,” Jess said. “We’ve some wonderful news. The two of us and others from the Sylian system are aboard a starship fleet.”
“You always did have an exaggerated sense of humor, Jess Cinders,” Leslie said, laughing. “But I forgive you this time, as you’ve made my day.”
When Leslie didn’t get a response, she asked in a dubious voice. “You’re not teasing me, are you?”
“It’s the truth,” Jess replied.
“Is this a private conversation?” Leslie asked, with concern.
“No, President Finian. I’m Olawale Wombo, and I’m with Patrice Morris. We’re this expedition’s leaders.”
“Where are you from, Expedition Leader Wombo?” Leslie asked guardedly.
“Olawale is fine, Madam President. We’re humans from Earth and some far-flung human colonies.”
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Leslie said in a rush. “We weren’t forgotten. What took you so long?” she added, with a throaty laugh.
“Earth has had its own problems,” Patrice admitted, “but I’m happy to say that our dysfunctional centuries seem to be behind us.”
“Jess, what types of ships are in this fleet?” Leslie asked. Belatedly, she realized that her elation about the twins’ return had overshadowed her responsibilities as president.
“One passenger liner and four warships,” Jess replied. “According to the expedition’s leaders, humankind’s colonies have encountered significant enemies ... aliens inhabiting giant spheres and such.”
Leslie received a report from an aide in her ear wig.
“I understand you’re on a fast approach to the planet,” Leslie commented.
“Your underlying question is a discussion for engineers,” Jess said. “It will concern grav drives, which require no reaction mass.”
Leslie blinked twice and worked to focus. There were more important questions to ask. “Where did you meet, Jess?” she asked.
“The Sylian dome was overtaken by the Colony,” Jess explained. “These visitors helped us retake it, and they paid a heavy price.”
“It’s great to know a dome has been reclaimed,” Leslie said, with relief. “We’ve lost contact with other alliance worlds. At last count, we’ve been unable to communicate with five others. Worse, two of those domes are the only means of journeying to strings of other worlds, which means we don’t know their statuses.”
“That’s a lot of connected gates to defend,” Kasie commented.
“How about Rissness?” Tacnock asked.
Leslie recognized the voice of a Jatouche. She replied, “Rissness still defends their gate against the Colony. They’ve never failed in their responsibility, and Pyreans are ever grateful.”
“Thank you, President Finian. I’m called Tacnock.”
