Triorion Omnibus

by L. J. Hachmeister

  We are not that, Jetta said, but wasn’t as convinced this time.

  (I’ve hurt so many people—)

  Jaeia, moving to stand next to her sister, touched the back of Jetta’s hand. No, we are not that, she affirmed.

  The Grand Oblin studied Jetta’s face. “You don’t see yourself as Si, Moro, Tre or Prodgy, do you?”

  What is he trying to do? Figure out how to control us? Jetta thought angrily, fighting back unexpected tears.

  He’s trying to understand us, Jaeia replied, looking behind the Oblin’s eyes.

  How can you believe that?

  Listen to him, Jaeia thought, squeezing her sister’s hand.

  Jetta resisted, but with her sister’s guidance, tentatively probed the Oblin’s thoughts. He isn’t Yahmen, and he isn’t part of the Core.

  Searching further, she found his surface emotions accessible, and they didn’t hurt to listen to.

  He’s still holding back, Jetta observed.

  He still has reason to, doesn’t he? Jaeia said.

  Jetta ground her fists into the cave wall and averted her eyes. The thought of trusting someone else frightened her. Jaeia and Jahx were the only ones who had never let her down. Everyone else wanted to exploit her and her siblings’ abilities for their own self-serving motives. So what is the Oblin really after?

  Jetta looked at her fist where she had scraped away some of the skin and little beads of blood had surfaced. No, he couldn’t be trusted, but there was an advantage to gaining the Exiles’ trust. Besides, even if she told the Oblin and Exiles about some of their powers, they couldn’t control her. No one, she vowed, would ever run their lives again.

  “We are not like other telepaths,” Jetta said. “I know what people fear. Jaeia can talk a certain way so people listen, no matter how upset they are.”

  “And our brother,” Jaeia said, urging Jetta to continue. Jetta couldn’t find words. Pain surged in her chest, and her limbs tensed.

  “Go on,” the Oblin whispered.

  Feeling her Jetta’s distress, Jaeia answered for her sister. “He has the most talent of the three of us, but he never really talked about it much.”

  “Or used it,” Jetta mumbled.

  Jaeia shot her a look before continuing. “He could see into people—I mean really see into them. A lot of times he knew more about them than they knew about themselves.”

  “Your brother—where is he now?” Senka interjected.

  Jetta exchanged glances with her sister. Why do you trust them?

  “We think that he’s—”

  Jaeia’s voice cracked, and she looked down at the floor. Jetta dug her nails into her arms and bit her lip as hard as she could stand.

  “We don’t know what happened to him,” Jetta said. “So there’s no use guessing. We just have to go find him.”

  Jetta hated the way that Senka and the Grand Oblin looked at her—as if they didn’t believe her, as if they knew she had left her brother to the Dominion Core. With trembling hands she covered her face and wished she could stop thinking, stop feeling.

  Jaeia pulled Jetta’s hands away, her gray eyes connecting with Jetta’s, refusing to let her withdraw. Without speaking, Jaeia took her hand and reached beyond their touch, taking the edge off the crushing feeling in her chest. Jaeia is always there for me—I can’t forget that.

  The Oblin sighed and wrapped his robe more tightly around his thin frame. “Perhaps you are something entirely new. Has anyone ever taught you how hone your senses?”

  Jetta frowned. “Nobody has ever helped us.”

  “I see,” the Oblin said skeptically.

  Senka knelt down in front of Jetta, tears in her eyes and an expression of sympathy, only furthering Jetta’s agitation. “How did you end up in the Core?”

  Jetta wanted to crawl behind a rock. She didn’t want them to know how she had stupidly allowed them to take that entrance exam.

  “It’s okay to tell me. I know how they recruited little children into their Academy. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Not now, Senka. Let them rest,” the Grand Oblin said, walking stick scraping against the ground as he put himself between them and Senka.

  “All we do is rest,” Jetta grumbled, scuffing her foot against the floor. She glared at the Oblin, but the hot feeling in her stomach diminished in the face of his smile.

  “I know you both are terrified of your past as well as your future. If you can continue to trust me, I can help you realize your abilities and overcome your fears,” the Oblin said softly. He put on a hand on Senka’s shoulder, and they both turned to leave.

  Jetta held her breath as she tried to pick apart the Oblin’s words and find further evidence of their deceit.

  He isn’t lying, she realized. That can’t be possible....

  Exhausted and not knowing what else to do, Jetta moved to her bed, and her sister crawled in by her side, wrapping her arms around her like she used to after a bad night with Yahmen. Out of habit she looked around for Jahx to bring him in close, only to be reminded again of his absence.

  Jahx, please be okay, she thought, pressing her hands against her chest. I’m coming, I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes.

  Hearing and empathizing her heartbreak, Jaeia hugged Jetta even tighter. Be with me here, Jetta. We will survive this and then find answers.

  Jetta wiped the tears from her eyes, allowing her sister’s hope to fill her. Maybe they didn’t have to fight this battle alone. Maybe, after all the years of relying on each other, fighting the prejudices against Fiorahians, humans, and telepaths, there was a chance to make an ally—a friend.

  As she drifted off, she held onto the idea, too afraid to realize it and too afraid to let go. Somewhere, beyond the callused layers of her armor, was a longing for the Oblin’s words to hold truth.

  CONCERN RESHAPED THE Grand Oblin, causing her to shrink and expand as her voice lost its frail rasp and tightened up into a no-nonsense motherly gruffness. Adjusting and re-adjusting her robes proved aggravating, but at least in her female, middle-aged body, her joints didn’t bother her as much.

  “Dinjin was already suspicious, and Rawyll and Crissn, even though they’re not military, aren’t stupid. If you know anything more about what happened to them and why they’re here, it would be helpful,” Senka said, folding her arms across her chest. “We’re getting raided every other day now, and we can’t afford to lose anyone else. If those kids are dangerous, we need to act.”

  “Keep your voice down,” the Oblin said, collecting her long, stringy hair and tying it in a bun above her head.

  The Oblin peered down the tunnel. Privacy was hard to come by in the caves, and trying to have a discussion in the tunnel connecting to the main meeting area would only arouse suspicion. She didn’t think the others would be ready to hear what she had to say, and even telling Senka was going to be difficult.

  “We’ve confirmed that they’re telepaths,” the Oblin said.

  “Yes, I know. You knew that right away. You made us go through all that mental conditioning. Tell me what I want to know. What we all want to know—are they trained by the Core? Are they spies? Are they in any form related to Dissemblers?” Senka asked.

  “If they were Dissemblers, we’d already be dead. Truthfully, they are like no other telepath I’ve ever encountered. And no, I don’t think they’re spies, but I do think they were conditioned by the Core. They are more dangerous to themselves than anything,” the Oblin said as she pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. Her mind still ached from Jetta perforating her thoughts.

  Senka’s moved her hands to her hips. “I want to know what you know of their experience with the Core.”

  The Oblin sighed and tried to loosen the robes around her blossoming chest. “Senka—what details do you know about the recruitment of children for the Core Academy?”

  “Are you saying that they were part of the Roundup? Dinjin and I suspected that, but at the same time, they don’t act like the children we e
ncountered. All the others... well, you know what happened.”

  “These survived,” the Oblin said in a hushed voice.

  Footsteps echoed in the tunnels. With a sigh, the Oblin grabbed Senka by the hand and led her to the main cavern to circle of rocks around the fire pit.

  “Please,” the Oblin said, motioning for Crissn, Rawyll, and Dinjin to join them around the crackling fire.

  “It’s time for answers,” Rawyll said, refusing to sit. Dinjin chuckled at the tetchy weaponsmaster and took his seat next to Crissn and Senka.

  The Oblin scooted over to a rock and sat down between Senka and Crissn. She laid her walking stick across her lap and, taking a deep breath, elected to tell them as much as she could. “The tattoo on their arms—do you remember how I reacted to it?”

  “Yes,” Senka said, leaning forward in her seat.

  “I knew it. I knew that symbol. About a year ago I met a fugitive of some sort who had found his way to Tauri-Mone by illegal transport, hiding in shipments of spice or running drug errands for shipmates so he could stay in their pens. He never did tell me his name—only that he sought redemption for a horrible crime he had committed. I listened to his confession, and I must admit, at first I doubted his credibility. He claimed that he could have prevented the tragedies that had befallen the galaxy—that he was responsible for the Raging Front and the annihilation of several interior star systems. I asked him how he could have done this. He said that the ‘weapon’ had been right in front of him during the Roundup, and he let it slip past him into Core hands. Wild-eyed and smelling of drink, he traced a symbol in the garden’s dirt for me, over and over, and repeated the name ‘Kyron.’ I tried to reach out to him, but he fled the Order’s sanctuary. I never did see him again, but I had a feeling, one that I couldn’t quite place at the time, that I would somehow draw upon this knowledge once again,” the Oblin said, staring into the fire. “That symbol that he drew is the tattoo we uncovered on the girls’ arms.”

  “So what does that mean?” Crissn said, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “If those kids were really that important, why would the Core sentence them to rot here?”

  “Yeah,” Dinjin interjected, scratching his forehead. “The Core is exact about detaining or eliminating their enemies.”

  “Please tell us everything,” Senka whispered, resting her hand on the Grand Oblin’s knee. “We can’t afford not to know.”

  If I did, the Oblin thought. You wouldn’t believe me. Or at least you wouldn’t want to.

  “There is still a lot I don’t know, my friends. Whatever drugs the Core gave them are holding back their memories, and I can’t access everything. But it’s all there, and it is not good. I fear that if I help them remember all of it right now, while they are still so vulnerable, I will cause them irreparable damage. They already know too much as it is.”

  “But you are saying that they’re important, yes?” Dinjin inquired.

  The Grand Oblin nodded. “They are telepathic, and they were involved with the Dominion.”

  “Great. Just great,” Rawyll huffed. “What now—were they in league with General Volkor?”

  The Grand Oblin said nothing. Flashes of the Slaythe appeared in both Jetta and Jaeia’s mind, though she couldn’t discern much through the jumble and distortion of their memories.

  Crissn pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed hysterically. “Come on, you’ve got to be joking. No child is capable of that kind of evil. Volkor killed more people than all the other intergalactic warmongers combined—I can hardly picture those kids bloodying their hands for that bastard.”

  The Grand Oblin gripped her walking stick more tightly. “They were involved with battles fought by the Core, but at this time, I’m not quite sure how.”

  “All right, let’s assume the impossible,” Senka said, “that those girls were somehow involved in the war and with General Volkor. It wouldn’t be right for them to be sent to a low-profile prison, even this cursed place.”

  “But Grand Oblin, you were revered for your telepathic skills, and you were sent to this place,” Dinjin pointed out.

  “Yes, but remember that I was never in Dominion hands—my coming here was my own doing,” the Oblin replied.

  “And the Core knew about the girls’ talents, so they wouldn’t just exile them here, even with our inability to be rescued. They’d keep a tight grip on them, and if anything, they’d kill them so nobody else could have their secret weapon,” Senka added.

  “I don’t know how they managed to get here, be it by escape, accident, or some other means. That is still repressed within them,” the Oblin said, rubbing her temples.

  Crissn paced the circle. “But if it was a mistake or accident that they were sent to Tralora, that means that somebody—be it the LaTannian mafia, the Oriyan guard or the USC—would come after them if they somehow got word.”

  “Or the Dominion. If the launnies escaped and accidentally landed here, then maybe the Core will be back,” Rawyll said, hitching up his weapons belt.

  “Stop using that word,” Senka said.

  “Or maybe the war’s ended. Maybe the Core fractured if the launnies were able to escape,” Dinjin interjected.

  “Something isn’t right about those—those kids—about any of this,” Rawyll grumbled, sheathing and resheathing several of the knives on his belt. “I don’t like it.”

  “They’re not bad, Rawyll. I can’t see them being in league with Volkor,” Senka said. The Oblin smiled. I’m glad I’m not the only one who believes in them.

  Rawyll gritted his teeth and made slicing motions with one of his blades. “Either way I think that they need to be controlled. And if they’re truly that powerful, we have to keep watch over them.”

  “They’re just kids—”

  The Oblin raised her hands once again to silence them. “I am trying to find out more. I know you are concerned. But it is very difficult to protect them and at the same time help them remember—”

  An unexpected apprehension seized her. She looked down the dark tunnel that led to where the girls should have been, and her stomach dropped.

  Fear. Desperation.

  She grasped Rawyll and Crissn’s wrists, her amethyst eyes glowing. “They’ve left the protection of the caves.”

  “WE NEED TO FIND A WAY off this planet,” Jetta said as she exited the cave system with her sister.

  The cool night air greeted them as they stepped onto the mountain ledge overlooking the valley. Jetta inhaled deeply, filling her lungs until she thought they would burst. After years of living in the recirculated pollution of the Fiorahian airfield and then the sterile spacelock of the Dominion starships, the lush foliage and rich outdoor smells of Tralora tantalized her senses.

  Not a single stolen memory compares to this, Jaeia shared.

  No, not even close, Jetta thought, not able to stop the smile that spread across her face. Tralora, raw and untamed, disease ridden and dangerous. This place is real...

  “Look, Jetta—can you believe it?” her sister whispered, looking up. “Only two moons—not enough to drown out the night sky.”

  Jetta looked up and gasped. “My Gods...” she said, marveling at the star-speckled sky. It had been so different on Fiorah. The triple star system and eight moons had drowned out any other celestial light. The Core ships were no better: windowless prisons denied even a glimpse into the heavens.

  “Finally,” Jetta whispered as a strange elation tingled through her chest and into her fingers and toes. She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from her lips.

  Jaeia took a step back. “Am I crazy, or are you a little giddy?”

  Jetta tried to wipe the smile away and look serious, but it came right back with a vengeance. “No,” she insisted, socking Jaeia in the arm.

  “What’s that?” Jaeia said, pointing to the east. It took Jetta a moment to see the shining mote speeding across the sky.

  “Don’t know. Maybe a satellite?” Jetta said, dampening her e
xcitement with the reality of their situation. I should be ashamed for enjoying this without Jahx. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get going.”

  With the aid of the moonlight, they carefully made their way across the razor-thin ridge of the granite mountain to a small plateau. The surf of trees below swayed and bowed in the wind, crescent leaves trembling.

  From their vantage point, Jetta spotted a precarious-looking trail that wound its way down the talus fields of the mountainside into a green valley that separated them from another jagged mountain range. From its wear patterns, Jetta guessed it was the only route to and from their cave system.

  She looked back up the mountain face and tried to spot any other openings to the caves. What might have been old entryways had all been blocked from the inside with boulders and rock slabs, as if someone hadn’t wanted whatever was outside to get in.

  Her sister crouched down and gazed at the forest below them. “It looks so peaceful from here,” Jaeia said. “Seems hard to believe what the Oblin told us about this place.”

  “It’s quiet,” Jetta noted, crouching down with her sister. “Like there isn’t any nocturnal life.

  “Hey, look—you can see the edge of the Narki city,” Jetta said, pointing to the distant horizon. Just before the mountains jutted the rim of the city’s alabaster wall. Several buildings peeked above the protective barrier. “Let’s go now.”

  “No, Jetta,” Jaeia said, grabbing her by the upper arm. “That wouldn’t be right. We’re not in any condition to travel, we don’t know enough about this ‘disease’ we carry, and I don’t want to leave these people. They risked a lot to help us, and we owe them.”

  “That disease talk is just gorsh-shit,” Jetta said, wrenching her arm away. “And these people chose to save us—it’s not our duty to stay here and rot along with them. We need to get a ship from the city and find Jahx.”