Awakening

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  From the pain on both of their faces, Olofi knew that Loco could see his answer.

  “No!” Loco stomped on the ground with one of his heavy boots as though he were ready to throw a tantrum. “No, no, no, no, fuck no. Three hundred years, guys. Three hundred fucking years! And this is the only time we’ve ever found anything that could take us home. And now that we’ve literally found it under a damn bed, you just want to hand it over to tall dark and shitty? For a girl we’ve just met?”

  “It isn’t that simple,” Olofi said.

  “No? It’s going home, Olo! What could be simpler than that?” Loco countered.

  “We remain exiles,” Shango answered. “Whether or not we have the means to return would do nothing to change this immutable fact. Were we to return, we would merely be cast out again.”

  “Still worth a shot!” Loco protested. “Better than spending eternity in this garbage dump of a universe.”

  “So we just let Amroth kill Bentley, go home, get sent back, lose the sword,” Olofi said. “We get nothing out of that, and Bentley gets killed. We may as well be pulling the trigger ourselves if we’re going to let things go down like that. It’s on us, Loco. Like it or not.”

  “Does it feel good, Olo?” Loco said, his voice full of dry anger. “Acting all pure and noble, like your code means a damn thing out here? Does it make living this puny little half-life a bit more palatable to you?”

  “You know we’re right,” Olofi said quietly.

  “No, I don’t.” Loco slumped against the wall, looking defeated. “I really don’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Loco,” Olofi said sympathetically. “I get it. We all feel the same. But it’s not worth it.”

  “Whatever,” Loco said. “So what’s the plan? Just fork the thing over to Cardboard and wish him well? That’s definitely going to turn out badly, and you can bet your fucking life savings on that.”

  “This is true,” Shango agreed. “Ideally, we should be aiming for a way of retrieving Bentley while also keeping the sword ultimately in our possession.”

  “Do you have a plan for that?” Olofi asked Shango hopefully.

  “At this time I do not,” Shango said. “It would require some thought.”

  “Don’t bother,” Loco’s dour expression turned into a wild, mischievous smile as his eyes glinted with inspiration. “With the right inspiration, I might have just the thing.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Panopticon Chamber 001, Aboard the Geburah

  Bentley had put up a strong front during her interrogation, but on the inside she was absolutely terrified. Bound to the chair as she was in this creepy mirror-room, all she could think about now that she was no longer the subject of anyone’s attention was how she was going to get out of here.

  That public discussion that the Chesed’s crew had made with the shady guy who seemed to be in charge didn’t inspire much hope for rescue. She wondered how quickly they would find the sword. That they would find it seemed to be a foregone conclusion to her; her hiding place was rather obvious once anyone caught on that she had something worth hiding. But once they had it, she was uncertain that they would consider her worth the trade. After all, whatever that sword really was, it was valuable enough for a very impressively armed warship to take her into custody.

  She pushed against the metal coils that bound her to her chair again, feeling them squeeze back in response. There was something familiar to her about this metal, though what it might be was buried in the inaccessible reaches of her memories. What she did know was that she didn’t like it. It felt like she was being slowly eaten by some kind of monster, though it didn’t really move unless she did.

  “If I’m going to get out of here,” she thought, “being able to move would be a good start.”

  She took a deep breath and considered her surroundings.

  Since that man had replaced her torturer in the room, the complement of guards in and around the area had massively increased. It wasn’t just dark-armored men with blaster rifles. There were large figures clad in hulking tech armor, and more conservatively dressed figures in black cloaks gripping the hilts of swords. They passed in and out of the room, each seeming to vie for their leader’s attention or slip beneath his notice. But Bentley tried to keep an accurate count of just how many guards her captors had on hand. And then she heard a voice coming in from the opening in the mirrored walls.

  It was him.

  The one Loco had called Cardboard and Shango had called Amroth. Even without any more context, she could guess as to which one was real by their sources alone.

  Amroth was talking to one of the black cloaked warriors, his back turned away from Bentley. She closed her eyes so she could better concentrate on the conversation.

  “They’re extremely dangerous, even as they are. All precautions in onboard security need to be taken,” he said. “Close combat specialists backed with trained fire support at every transit point.”

  “The Chesed is barely even holding together. One hit from the main battery and their ship’s stardust, sir,” the black cloaked man spoke much more loudly, making his words easier to follow. “We can solve this problem before it even becomes a problem.”

  “Maybe after,” Amroth replied. “For now we can’t risk the sword getting lost in the debris. That would complicate matters greatly. No, we must get them on the ship with it.”

  “So we make the trade, and then destroy their ship afterwards? Nice and clean.”

  “Agreed,” Amroth said. “But I’d rather keep the girl. The sword is paramount, but it is still only a single piece of the puzzle. We still need to determine her connection to Legba. She may even have some knowledge of how to operate the device. Though, from Driscoll’s report, that may require more… invasive techniques once we rendezvous at Dacca Noir.”

  It was hard for Bentley to keep listening to this.

  After what they’d done for their warm-up on this ship, she didn’t want to be here to find out what they considered more invasive. She forced herself to stay calm enough to continue her immobile eavesdropping.

  “So three targeted kills onboard,” the cloaked man affirmed. “Easily done.”

  “But only after we have secured the sword and guaranteed it is not a decoy,” Amroth added. “Do not let your men get overzealous. It is more than their lives that will be forfeit if they fail.”

  “Understood,” the man said as he made a short bow, then gave Amroth a tight salute. “Your will be done.”

  “Fucking hell…” Bentley said, her cursing still completely silenced by the metal that had encased the lower half of her face. Any hopes of rescue were completely dashed; if they tried to make a trade, they would be killed. If they tried to mount a rescue, the result would almost certainly be the same, since on the Chesed she hadn’t seen anything like the amount of hardware even the guards passing by were armed with.

  Bentley knew that if she were going to get out of this mess, it was going to be entirely up to her. And, though her prospects seemed bleak, that lone fact suited her just fine.

  +++

  Bridge, Aboard the Chesed, Klaunox Sector

  Olofi held the sword in his right hand and the scabbard in the left and drew it. “How does this thing even work?”

  The blade was obviously the work of advanced technology, but when he held it in his hand it may as well have been purely decorative. “I thought it was going to light up or something when we held it or drew it?”

  Shango barely glanced in his direction. “Artifacts of advanced technology are seldom operated through simple mechanics,” he explained. “And the ones that are, find themselves among the most dangerous, both to their users and everyone around them.”

  “I guess Legba’s too careful for that,” Olofi acknowledged.

  “Damn right.” Loco agreed. “Fuckin’ killjoy.”

  Olofi resheathed the sword and placed it in front of Shango at the table he sat at. They’d convened here for a proper team meeting, something that
was increasingly uncommon with how off-the-cuff they usually preferred to operate.

  Olofi was happy to see the energy in Loco, though, after he’d expressed he might have a plan. They’d had to drag him kicking and screaming so much lately, it was refreshing to see him take initiative. Though, Olofi surmised, this had a lot more to do with generating any scenario where they were allowed to keep the sword.

  “Anyway,” Loco continued, enthusiastically, “way I see it, we’ve got three options: first is we take the sword and just book it the hell out of here.”

  “Not happening,” Olofi responded without missing a beat. “I thought we’d already established that one.”

  “I know, I know!” Loco sounded almost offended at that remark. “I’m just walking us through all our options, okay? So, second one is we make the exchange, get Bentley somewhere safe, and then try to come back for the sword.”

  “And get instantly vaporized by the Geburah’s armaments,” Olofi added. “Pretty sure Amroth would guess we might pull something like that. Once we don’t have anything he wants onboard I guarantee you he’ll be shooting on sight.”

  “Right,” Loco confirmed. “So we’re in agreement that what we really need to do is find a way to bust Bentley out and bring the sword with us onto our ship in the same go.”

  “I see no other option that achieves our goals,” Shango said.

  “First step is getting aboard the Geburah.” Loco said.

  “That won’t be difficult,” Shango stated. “I anticipate that making the exchange on the Geburah will be the first term Amroth proposes. Logically, though, it isn’t something we should want to agree to if we’re going to make an honest trade. His advantage there is overwhelming.”

  “So we should protest and insist we do it on the Chesed,” Olofi added.

  “Precisely. Amroth would never agree to it. He will make bringing us onto the Geburah his goal.” Shango said.

  “What if he suggests a neutral spot?” Olofi asked. “Like Sparta Station?”

  “We can use that dust-up with Max as cover,” Loco replied. “Say it’s too dangerous, third parties, blah blah blah. If we give him a long story he’ll get pissed off and take our word for it. For a guy who’s got literally eternity, he can’t stand feeling like you’re wasting his time.”

  “Good idea,” Shango said.

  “May as well let something good come out of that whole ordeal, anyway,” Olofi agreed.

  “But once we’re on board, we’ve still got a small army to deal with, right?” Loco continued.

  “Perhaps I could dress provocatively and distract them?” Jelly Bean suggested, garnering puzzled looks from Olofi and Shango.

  “I mean, sure, that sounds fun, not gonna lie,” Loco said. “But there’s not an outfit in the world that’s going to catch Cardboard’s eye. I’m not sure he even understands what a good time is. Guy’s basically a eunuch.”

  “Eunuch on a hell of a warpath,” Olofi added.

  “Someone takes my balls, I’d be on a warpath too,” Loco said with a grin.

  “Do you actually have a plan, Loco?” Jelly Bean asked. “It sounds a great deal more like you’re brainstorming.”

  “I said I had a plan and I do, okay!?” Loco said, sounding flustered. “I’ve just… You know, I’ve just got to work out all the kinks in it.

  “Continue, please,” Shango said.

  “Thanks,” Loco said. “So, to make this work, I was thinking we could pull an Alamo.”

  “Are you serious?” Olofi said incredulously. “That doesn’t even make sense. None of us are even in custody.”

  “A modified Alamo,” Loco said irritably. “Look, we can bitch about details, but you’ve gotta agree that’s the only way we get out of here with everything.”

  “It could work, sure,” Olofi agreed. “But the hostage not being able to fight makes it not an Alamo. How do you modify that?”

  “We’ve got someone on our side being held captive,” Loco said. “That’s a start, at least.”

  “It’s not the same. The reason Alamo works is because it’s you or me or whatever!” Olofi said in frustration. “Not some girl who’s never seen combat or held a weapon. The whole point is we’ll need to protect her the whole way while also getting the sword back. Meaning it’s not an Alamo, it’s just a suicide run.”

  “Bentley is a trained combatant,” Jelly Bean spoke up. All three of them looked at her in mild shock.

  “What are you talking about, Jelly?” Olofi asked after a brief pause.

  “She was drunk, admittedly, but I watched her engage in some swordplay earlier. She has a few moves. You could likely trust her with a weapon, particularly in close combat.”

  “Huh,” Loco smiled again. “Well I’ll be damned. That changes things a bit!”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Shango said, shaking his head. “Aside from Bean’s brief evaluation, we have no way of gauging her skill level. Using that as the lynchpin of any plan presents undue risk. And using it as one in this particular plan could cost Bentley her life. Which would be contrary to our two stated goals.”

  “You’re right,” Olofi sighed. “We’ll need to find another way.”

  “I think it’s worth taking the risk,” Jelly Bean insisted. “Bentley isn’t a helpless girl, she is quite capable. The most successful model for her rescue is one that integrates her skill set in alongside ours.”

  “I’m with Jelly on this one,” Loco said. “If that girl’s actually got moves, I wanna see them.”

  “This is a bad time to be joking around, Loco,” Olofi said.

  “You seemed fine with it when I was talking about Amroth’s balls!” Loco snapped back at him. “Besides, I’m serious. Dead fucking serious.”

  “Shango,” Olofi pleaded to him. “Can you talk some sense into this maniac? And Jelly, for some reason?”

  “Hm…” Shango turned his attention exclusively to Jelly Bean. “Bean, what exactly did you witness her doing?”

  “She used one of your swords in the training room, Captain. Rather competently.” Jelly Bean informed him. He raised one eyebrow at this.

  “My sword?” he asked with a particular interest. “Which one?”

  “I believe the name you have designated to that specific weapon is Caeruleum,” Jelly Bean told him.

  Shango paused, and then smiled. “I’m with Bean. Let’s go with this plan.”

  +++

  Panopticon Chamber 001, Aboard the Geburah

  When he finally received the hail from the Chesed, Amroth motioned for his security regiment to quickly clear out from the Panopticon. He was certain they would be under no illusions about the military might he had onboard, but nonetheless he always found it prudent to not bring one’s full might to the attention of one’s enemies.

  “On screen,” he instructed the Panopticon.

  The same image of the Chesed’s bridge and its inhabitants came up, but this time holding the item he’d desired in his hand. Looking at it now, Amroth could think of little else, but managed to maintain his composure to speak.

  “Greetings again, Fallen Angels,” he said. “You were more expedient than I had expected, all things considered.”

  “Stuff it, Cardboard!” Loco answered with his expectedly coarse demeanor. “Look, we’ve got your damn sword. So you going to make that trade or not?”

  “Of course,” Amroth said with a slight nod. “I honor my bargains, as will you. I will permit the Chesed to approach for boarding at the aft ingress.

  “You must think we’re really fucking stupid,” Loco responded. “Like we’ll do it on your ship? No, you want the sword you can come and get it. Alone.”

  “Unacceptable,” Amroth said flatly. “You are to deliver the sword to me, and I will deliver the girl to you. The exchange must take place here. You would complicate matters otherwise.”

  “You are asking us to take an enormous risk,” Shango said.

  “You took an enormous risk by following my ship,” Amroth answered.
“And you did so to retrieve this girl. Will you ruin this by souring our deal?”

  “We may be at an impasse,” Shango said.

  “That would be most unfortunate,” Amroth replied as he gave a brief look back at Bentley behind him. “For her. And you.”

  “Are you serious?” Olofi protested. “You’re just going to throw us an ultimatum like that?”

  “I am being perfectly reasonable,” Amroth said. “If that does not suit you, you must accept the consequences.”

  “Very well,” Shango conceded. “We will agree to these terms. However, you cannot expect us to surrender our weapons under these conditions.”