Triorion Omnibus

by L. J. Hachmeister

  Through an Academy-wide bulletin, the siblings found out that Rogman had selected a special opponent outside of the Academy for one of them to challenge. Some of the other students protested the triplets’ perfect scores and wanted them to challenge each other to sort out the ranks, but their complaints didn’t get them very far. Even Jetta thought it peculiar that the teachers hadn’t arranged a fight between them. I’m glad I don’t have to fight my brother and sister; I can’t imagine anything worse than pitching our abilities against each other. Even if I won, it wouldn’t be a victory worth celebrating.

  Students and teachers packed the game room while soldiers with silver-sealed eyes and loaded rifles lined the stadium staircases and gaming floor, keeping the excited crowd a few meters back from the central Endgame console. Standing on the far side of the console, across from their opponent and his entourage of older students, Jetta and her siblings discussed their strategy.

  “Hey, Jetta...”

  Even though Jaeia tried to mask her thoughts, Jetta already knew what her sister was going to say by the hesitant look in her eyes. Her siblings had been voicing their concerns about her growing obsession with the game, and Jetta knew they wanted to deny what was rightfully hers.

  “It’s our last game, Jetta,” Jahx chimed in. “We can’t afford to get greedy.”

  Jahx was right. She had been getting sloppy in some of her latest wins, focusing on the psychological torment of her opponents over the actual game.

  “Don’t worry—I’ll be more careful this time.”

  Jaeia gave her brother a cautionary glance before taking over the conversation. “We were talking—we think Jahx should face him.”

  “Jahx?!” Jetta scoffed.

  “Look,” her brother said gently, “Drakken Varkanian is the Fleet Commander’s son, and they brought him out of the officer’s training corps for this battle.”

  “But why, Jahx?” Jetta said, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice.

  “Drakken is a military prodigy, first of all, and he’s damn hard to read. I ran into him in the mess hall,” Jahx said, keeping his voice low. “He’s got about as much personality as a rock.”

  “Jahx is probably the only one that can get through to him. You and I can still help,” Jaeia said, careful to keep their conversation from being overheard by the other students milling around the arena.

  “I’m the one that comes up with the best strategies,” Jetta said through gritted teeth. “It should be me!”

  Jahx tried to lay a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “Trust me, Jetta—please. This battle is for all three of us.”

  “We need Jahx’s perspective up front,” Jaeia said. Silently, she added: Think of what happened with Stempton.

  Jetta’s hands bunched into involuntary fists. So what if she had gotten upset in past battles? Even if she got so emotional she could no longer hear or see through her siblings’ eyes, she always had her secret talent.

  We need to stay connected, Jetta, and fight as one, Jahx reasoned. That is our greatest advantage.

  Her siblings’ fear seeped into her head. No, they couldn’t screw this up now, not with so much at stake. She could feel Yahmen’s presence in the backs of all their minds, a hulking, shadowy figure in a lighted doorframe, bottle in hand, burning cigarette in the other, waiting for them to come home.

  “You, the pacifist—you’re going to claim the title?” Jetta said humorlessly. She could tell he took offense by the look in his eyes.

  “I don’t relish the victory, Jetta, but I will do what I have to do.”

  She crossed her arms and bit back what she really wanted to say to him. “Okay, fine,” she relented.

  Jaeia took her hand and they moved behind the spectator line as Jahx took his place at the game console across from Drakken.

  The Commander’s son is handsome, Jetta heard her sister think. His strong humanoid features and deep-set eyes contrast nicely with the striped facial markings of his Zunnian bloodline.

  Gross, Jetta replied, sticking out her tongue. He looks like a constipated thug to me.

  “I’ll make this quick, launnie,” Drakken whispered to Jahx. Her brother said nothing as the announcer took the stage.

  There weren’t too many in the Academy that didn’t already know Drakken’s reputation. Still, with a booming voice, the announcer impressed the crowd with Drakken’s greatness:

  The only other cadet to ever go undefeated in the Academy’s Endgame!

  Flawless record!

  Top scores in every category!

  Rolling her eyes, Jetta grumbled through the excessive praise until the announcer said something that caught her attention.

  “... even after his brother, Xercius, was killed in battle,” the announcer said, “Drakken chose to continue schooling despite his personal loss. He is a true Core soldier, brave, loyal, and honorable...”

  Jaeia turned to Jetta and whispered, “Did you feel that?”

  Though brief, a pang of emotion leaked from the otherwise glacial presence of the visiting command student.

  “Yes,” Jetta whispered back, hiding her smile.

  The battle began.

  Position the warship in engagement configuration alpha-beta-one. Send the fighters to mark 01045 and hold, Jetta thought. Hearing her, Jahx moved the pieces into position, but Drakken quickly pounced on her move. Jetta felt her brother worming his way through Drakken’s mind, but they didn’t have that kind of time. The stony-faced Commander’s son was aggressive, but each move was carefully planned out and followed by an attack that left them reeling.

  He’s really good, Jaeia commented as Drakken downed one of their squadrons. Not even Jahx can read him very well; it must be his mixed species. I don’t know how we’re going to win this if we can’t imprint his tactics.

  Jetta glanced at the scoreboard; her brother had the lead by only one point.

  But not for long, Jaeia said. From the looks of Drakken’s battleship formation, he’s going to attack Jahx’s warship while his fighters are busy scrambling with the mess he’s made of the ground units.

  Skucheka! Jetta replied. Jahx will have to abandon his ground units and base of operations or risk losing the warship.

  Drakken pressed his legions forward. The holographic display exploded with hues of green and red as pieces collided and disappeared. The crowd cheered, chanting Drakken’s name as the legendary young man gained the edge.

  “He’s going to lose,” Jaeia said as Jahx struggled to save the base of operations.

  “No, he’s not.”

  You could tease him about Xercius—throw him off his game, Jetta suggested to Jahx, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

  I can win this without resorting to that.

  You don’t have the time! Jetta said, looking at the scoreboard. Shaking his head, Jahx put out another legion of air units that Drakken crippled within seconds.

  Jetta grumbled and detached herself from the game and their connection.

  “Jetta—no!” Jaeia whispered, grabbing her sister’s hand. “What are you doing? We need you! You can’t—”

  “I can’t what? You want to go back to Fiorah?”

  Rendered speechless, Jaeia barely managed to shake her head.

  “I’ll make this quick, you bastard,” Jetta muttered.

  She closed her eyes. The crowd disappeared, along with the arena, and her brother and sister, leaving her and Drakken alone in a sea of gray infinity. He remained unaware of her as she approached him across the psionic plane, inputting his final commands into the console. Reaching into his head, Jetta weaved the nerve cords of his eyes around her fingers and yanking back with all her might.

  (See him...)

  Jetta opened her eyes again. Mouth hung open in a scream that never came, Drakken sat frozen in place, eyes dilated with terror.

  Jahx only chanced a quick look at her before resuming his command. What did you do, Jetta?

  As the soon as the teachers called the game, sold
iers hauled Drakken away by the armpits, his face white and cheesy.

  “Xercius... Oh Gods...what did they do to you?” he babbled incoherently. “So much blood. Put him back together—why can’t you save him?”

  Confused cadets whispered and pointed until the teachers told them to hush. Nobody in the stands saw the horror he spoke of, except for Jetta. Even so, she gleaned only a faint impression of the nightmare she caused: A bloody, beaten corpse limped through the hollow core of the gaming projector, his eviscerated bowels smearing across the console as he cried out for his brother.

  I’ve never done anything like that before. Confronting people with their fears was one thing, but reconstructing their nightmares was another. If only I had known about this back on Fiorah, she thought, I would have made Yahmen burn.

  As she celebrated her newfound talent, Jahx ran over to her, ducking under the congratulatory arms of some of the teachers.

  A pained expression crossed his face. “You didn’t have to do that. I was so close,” he whispered, his voice constricted with both anger and grief. “You have no idea what you did to him.”

  Jahx pulled her into his mind, and her resolve quickly peeled away as she felt the depth of the damage she had caused the young man. She didn’t want to lose, but she hadn’t intended to completely destroy his psyche.

  “You always go too far, Jetta,” Jahx said. “I warned you before...”

  “Do what you have to do, right?” she whispered. Tears stung her eyes as his disappointment sank into her, the weight of it crushing her ribs.

  Jahx held her gaze for a moment longer before succumbing to the onslaught of praise from teachers and a few of the newer students not yet aware of the triplets’ reputation.

  One of the older cadets who had recently lost to Jahx stepped forward from the crowd. Behind him collected other sore losers, including Stempton and Shiggla. “That was impossible,” he said. “No one—and no launnie—can defeat Drakken Varkanian. What are you—some sort of freak?”

  Silver-eyed soldiers held their ground, not moving to intervene as the crowd of disgruntled students drew in around them. With so many adults around, Jetta concentrated on keeping herself in check, even when Stempton pointed a finger at her brother. “He’s a damn leech.”

  Shiggla raised her arms up to rally the crowd. “They’re all damned leeches! How else could lower levels win against the entire Academy?”

  “Let’s go,” Jahx said, putting a hand on her shoulder, but Jetta shrugged it away. The older cadet stared her down, squaring himself between the console and the exit.

  He’s not going to let us just leave. And nobody else is going to help us, Jetta said to her siblings. Even the teachers had faded into the background, seemingly unconcerned that their top Endgame players were only moments away from being lynched.

  Adrenaline surged through her veins, kicking Jetta’s heart into overdrive and turning her hands into fists.

  Let them be or we’ll get in trouble, Jahx whispered through their silent connection. Don’t use your talent in the open.

  Jetta positioned herself in front of her siblings, directly across from the older cadet. Measuring a good meter taller than her, the kid tried to intimidate her with size. A smile lit her face. Yahmen was a lot bigger and meaner than this kid could ever be, and now that she knew what she was capable of, he didn’t stand a chance.

  He’s not distracted—he will know you’re digging in his head. Leave him alone, Jetta! Jahx said, sensing his sister’s thoughts.

  But I don’t want just him, she said, eyeing the angry mob and gritting her teeth. I want all of them—

  “That’s enough!” a deep voice shouted. Out of the corner of her eye, Jetta saw Rogman and several guards in specialized uniforms fanning out at the entrance of the arena. “Everybody back to the bunks.”

  Jetta’s hands remained clenched as the mob of cadets dispersed. Relief and a strange dissatisfaction diluted the rage pumping in her veins, but it wasn’t enough to make her turn away just yet, even with her siblings tugging at her uniform sleeve.

  “Jetta, come on, come on!” Jahx urged, pulling desperately on her arm.

  “Not so fast. It’s time to award our top finishers,” Rogman said, coming up behind her.

  When she turned around, her stomach dropped to her knees. Rogman’s eyes glinted as the soldiers surrounded them. Spreading her arms to shield her siblings, Jetta realized her mistake. We shouldn’t have won. Oh Gods, please don’t—

  Before she could cry out, something pierced the back of her neck. She thought she heard someone laugh just before she hit the ground.

  “I TOLD YOU THEY WOULD beat Drakken. Didn’t matter if he was the best.”

  Dreamlike voices, distant and filtered through the cotton stuffed in her ears, floated just above her head.

  “Yeah, but did you see how they beat him? Chak. The kid’s totally iced. The Fleet Commander wants to terminate Rogman.”

  “Right. Rogman is so far up the Sovereign’s assino... hey—hand me that.”

  Something pricked her forearm. Jetta tried to pull away, but gloved hands clamped down on her, holding her still as a terrible itch worked its way up her arm and spread across her neck and chest.

  “Gods, this one’s a fighter. Give me a double.”

  The itching grew more intense until it became a flame held too close to her skin.

  “You-know-who is going to have a field day with this one. Not one of those three is like the rest.”

  My skin—my skin!

  She could feel her skin bubbling up and crisping under the terrible flame as it sizzled its way into her muscle and bone.

  “Don’t mention that name—I’m having nightmares about this whole operation.”

  “Yeah, it gives me the jitters, too.”

  Someone held her chin up, forcing her eyes open against harsh lights. Her entire body felt on fire, her insides boiling and exploding like an overheated furnace.

  “Well, at any rate, this one ain’t worth it. It’s the boy that’s special.”

  “No way. This here’s the devil they’ve been looking for.”

  I’m not the devil, Jetta tried to say, but her lips seemed soldered shut. Somewhere in the distance she heard Yahmen laughing.

  JETTA LOOKED UP. A man wearing a flight suit studded with colorful insignia sat across from her, his fingers drumming the armrest of his chair.

  “You can’t just assume that with an acceleration rate of 0.12 you can break free from the gravitational pull of the planet and pull off that little rotational maneuver. It just can’t work outside a simulation.”

  Jetta looked at her hands grasping the controls of a flight simulator. Before her was the projected image of a complement of five fighters hovering above a ringed planet.

  What am I doing?

  Frustrated, the man pointed his finger at the playing field. “Let’s do this again.”

  Where am I?

  Only the gaming console and two chairs occupied the room slated in gray. Jetta looked for an exit and saw none until her eye caught a sliver of light leaking through a crack in the wall to her left. Black pods situated in the corners of the ceiling followed her every movement.

  How did I get here? She tried to focus on the thought, but it kept slipping from her grasp.

  “Pay attention!”

  Jetta jumped in her seat. She knew she had to play against this officer, and she had to win. She didn’t know why, but losing was very bad—very dangerous.

  The playing field changed; an asteroid belt replaced the ringed planet. She didn’t know what to do. How could she possibly play her five fighters against his warship and two mid-sized battleships? She considered employing a run-and-hide technique, praying that the warship didn’t follow her deeper into the belt, but then she saw that the orders displayed on her console: destroy all enemy ships in under ten minutes.

  Bewildered, Jetta looked to the officer. The light from the playing field distorted the features of his face, elo
ngating his nose and jaw. No longer humanoid, the officer morphed into a large, hungry rat, waiting for her to fall asleep on her cot so he could nibble on her toes.

  No, this isn’t Fiorah, she told herself. This is another place, another nightmare. Jaeia—Jahx—where are you?

  (No; can’t think of them now. Concentrate. Winning is surviving.)

  Using the holographic interface, Jetta commanded her five fighters to break away and dodge in and out between asteroids, buying some time. She didn’t want to do it, but she looked into the predatory eyes of the officer attacking her fighters.

  Bridging across the psionic boundaries, Jetta fell into a cold, controlled mind. Everything she needed to win pushed right up against her senses: what he assumed she would attempt, what he would do, and his fifty years of combat experience with the Dominion Core. But nothing else. Not a clue as to what she was doing, why she was here.

  (This isn’t right—)

  Jetta wanted to keep only to the essentials to evade his detection, but without the aid of her siblings, she would have to take it all if she was going to stand a chance fighting him. And therein lay their greatest danger. Emotion and sensation intertwined with memory, as well as what she and her siblings feared most—reaction. Every Sentient was different, and every imprint was different, but there was always that one—the imprint that reacted to her talent, slipping under her skin and embedding itself within her so that it was indistinguishable from self.

  “Kill all the prisoners.”

  “I don’t care how you do it.”

  (The people need wholesome fear)

  (They want someone to frighten them)

  (They want to submit)

  Jetta ignored the hollowed-out feeling in her stomach. She could feel his whole presence sliding into hers, his slimy impulses threading through her veins.

  I don’t want him inside me... Jetta pressed her knuckles against her forehead, forcing herself to focus on his knowledge.

  The asteroids, she realized, concentrating as hard as she could. Slingshot tunnel—the Battle of Greaod...

  The officer didn’t consciously recall the feat—but she did.