“Jetta—”
“We should stay here, with him.”
“All this time you were serving the Alliance in hopes that Jahx would come back?”
“No,” Jetta said, shifting her feet. A mop handle jabbed her between the shoulder blades, but the tight squeeze left little room for reprieve. “I did it for you.”
“Me?” Jaeia exclaimed.
“Yeah, you. You believed in the system and the idea of saving lives, helping people. And I guess, in some way, I needed it too after what’s happened to us. Fighting felt good in some ways, like I was finally doing something right.”
Jaeia stayed silent.
“You’re a good leader and diplomat, Jaeia, but we never really needed this place. All we needed was each other. Jahx coming back is enough for me,” Jetta said, fumbling for her sister’s hand. “I don’t want to be 'Commander'—they can cram their titles. And I don’t want to be famous. I just want to be your sister.”
Jaeia squeezed her hand. “I still believe in this system.”
“What?”
“And I still believe that we can make a difference.”
It won’t be enough to have Jahx back, Jetta realized—not for Jaeia. His miraculous return didn’t erase the unmentionable deeds they had performed under the influence of the Dominion Core. That’s why Jaeia went to all the trials, sat through all the miserable hearings about the deaths they had caused and the lives they had ruined. Guilt keeps her from seeing the corruption within the Alliance and continue her service.
“Jetta, this place smells. Can we talk about this after the meeting?”
“Fine. Let’s just get it over with,” Jetta said, shoving her way out. Soldiers that saw them come out of the janitor’s closet gave them curious looks as they headed back down the hallway.
Frustrated, Jetta bulled her way through the conference room doors. The silent tension from the surrounding officers didn’t faze her as she took her seat with a huff.
Jetta, please, Jaeia said, trying to get her to calm down as she took a seat beside her.
I don’t care anymore, Jetta said. With Jahx back, she didn’t see a reason to fight. I’m tired of it all the gorsh-shit.
When the Minister took the podium, his fear cut through her with fresh vigor, and her self-involvement ceased. Often emotionally guarded, his psionic vibrations rang out like a cymbal crash across the telepathic plane.
“The results of the modified scan have come back,” he started. He stopped, catching his breath. His eyes searched the room, but he didn’t seem to find what he needed. “Chief, this is your find. Please share it.”
Chief Mo stood up. “Commander Kyron was right to suggest the bioscan. The results were more conclusive this time.”
The holographic projector displayed a three layer view of the solar system Prax and the location of the alien ship across the room.
“With this scan we were able to clearly mark the regions of the distortion field, which you can see outlined in blue,” Mo said, pointing to the highlighted borders. “However, tracking the activity within the distortion field is more difficult. We were able to determine that the alien ship is using some kind of hostile agent within that field, but we are currently unable to pinpoint the source. The areas affected by this event are in red.”
Jetta inhaled sharply. The areas in red were inhabited or colonized areas: starships, asteroids, protoplanets, planets, and moons.
“Yellow represents the areas most affected by the hostile agent,” Mo said. “These are dead zones.”
The yellow areas followed the red, leaving a distinct trail of desolation across the system.
“Why can’t we determine what they’re using?” CCO Wren asked.
“Whatever they’re using doesn’t scan,” Mo replied. “We can measure the reaction, not the cause. But at least now we’re able to pinpoint the ship and its movement with more accuracy.”
“And what is the reaction?” Wren said.
Mo studied his datafile before speaking. “Diffuse DNA deconstruction to both macro and microorganisms. The hazard teams have reported complete absence of life.”
Two loose ends clicked together in Jetta’s head, and her heart froze. In the back of her mind, she heard Jaeia make the same connection.
“None of your scans in the affected areas show any residual signs of an invasive virus, bacteria—any bioweapon?” Jetta asked.
Mo nodded. “That is correct, Commander. Our hazard teams have ruled out that possibility. But there are still other methods: low-frequency alphagraphic waves to neutralize the mechanical components of the outposts and starcraft, or perhaps streaming naturally occurring x-particles. Both would be hard to detect in the noise of space.”
Jetta flexed her fist, her priorities suddenly torn. Realistically, her brother’s condition was critical, and his recovery was dependent on the medical and Defense/Research teams. She still needed the Alliance, so she still needed to fight. And if she and her sister were right about the kind of weapon the Motti were using, the devastation upon the cityworlds would be catastrophic.
I have to protect Jahx.
(—I can’t abandon all those people—)
The outpouring of emotion from within shocked her, but she bit down on her lip, countering the reaction with pain. She closed her eyes, her words coming through gritted teeth. “I’ve got to see this thing. I’ll take a corvette with a skeletal screw—volunteers only.”
“I’ll go,” Jaeia said firmly above the chatter of the officers.
“I can’t allow that,” the Minister said.
“If you let me to go with Jetta, we’ll have a better chance of figuring out what this is.”
“No,” the Minister said, changing the image on the projector. “The issue became more complicated with the latest intelligence reports.”
“What are we looking at?” Jaeia asked as star charts overlapped with marked routes.
“The flight patterns of several unregistered starcraft we’ve been tracking. As you can see, they all head directly for the suspected Motti ship,” Chief Mo said.
Jaeia studied the tracings. “Those are cargo ships, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Mo said.
Jaeia looked at Jetta. “So, someone’s supplying the Motti?”
The chief of intelligence nodded. “We’ve cut down all booster highway routes, evacuated and stripped starposts of any jumpdrive technology, stopped all transit in the path of the ship—there’s no way that vessel could be jumping through the systems without assistance.”
“We need to buy ourselves some time,” the Minister said. “We can’t have that ship reach the cityworlds. Jaeia, I want you to lead a complement to intercept the supply ships. Get me some answers.”
“I’ll escort her to the border,” Jetta proposed.
“Granted, but I want launch, PCP, and tactical readouts in one hour. Jetta, confirm your plan with Chief Wren,” the Minister said, dismissing the council.
As the rest of the group filtered out, Jetta talked with CCO Wren and her sister about the mission. A tap on her shoulder alerted her to the admiral as he walked by and pretended to go over the meeting files at the table.
“I’ll contact you on a private link,” Jetta said to Wren as he left the conference room with the last few council members.
“I have a team to prep, Admiral, so let’s make this quick,” Jetta said, her anger rushing back as she faced him. She wondered why he’d want to talk to her and her sister in private, especially when they all knew that the conference room, of all places, was under constant audio surveillance.
Seeming to read her thoughts, the admiral held up a tiny magnetic device. “I took care of any unwanted ears.”
“Why would you worry about that, anyway? You seem to be ‘leaking’ a lot lately,” Jetta said, referring to his projected thought during their last encounter.
Resurrection. When the admiral allowed her inside his mind for a moment, she felt a seismic emotion interlaced with the wor
d unlike anything she had ever felt before. From what little she could discern, ‘resurrection’ meant something beyond the admiral, beyond the Alliance, bridging lengths that she couldn’t imagine, across vast planes of space and time to a place found in the hearts of all beings. And that it all linked back to her.
“All of us need to tread lightly these days. I’m doing the best I can,” he said evenly.
Skeptical of his intentions, Jetta tried to look inside the admiral’s mind, but came up against his usual mental barricades. “You’re not the man I first met,” she said. “I can see the monster now. You’re going to tell me that you’ve changed, that you’re no longer a child-breaker, that you’re on a different path. But some things cannot be forgiven.”
The admiral locked eyes with her. “Then you of all people should pass no judgment on me, Commander.”
Careful, Jaeia projected to her sister.
Despite the cold blow, Jetta controlled her words as best she could. “What do you want from us?”
“You can hate me all you want, but I have always tried to do what’s right, and yes, people got hurt. Children got hurt. You don’t have to like me—I only ask that you continue to trust me. There are more important things at stake than your opinion of me.” The admiral removed a dataclip from his uniform jacket and handed it to Jetta. “Here’s a token of my trust in you two. I hope our dialogue will continue, because we’ll need each other. The rest of the Starways depends on it.”
“Is this about ‘resurrection’?” Jetta asked.
Sadness and regret tinged the admiral’s smile. He walked to the exit, pausing at the double doors. “We can discuss that when you get back. Good luck on your missions, Commanders.”
The admiral left, leaving them alone with the dataclip. Jetta almost threw it in the trash, but Jaeia took it from her before she could dispose of it.
“I’m about this close to gutting every superior officer’s mind,” Jetta muttered, crossing her arms.
Jaeia raised a brow. “I can’t say I haven’t thought the same thing, but I do want to keep my skin. Here, look,” she said, inserting the dataclip into her sleeve.
“What the hell,” Jetta muttered, grabbing her sister’s arms and reading the scrolling text. Are those Agracia’s orders?
“This was translated into English,” Jetta said as she read the original transcript in Common. “Agracia got a contract to download files from servers on Old Earth, specifically from some launch stations around ground zero. Weird...”
“What?”
“That’s right around where I crashed. I must have interrupted that mission.”
“Why did he give this to you?” Jaeia asked.
Jetta stared at the orders. “I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with that word he projected at me—resurrection.”
Jaeia looked at her, silently exchanging thoughts.
“I want to kill those Deadwalkers once and for all,” Jetta whispered, letting go of her sister’s arm. “I’m tired of military games, government cover-ups—and not understanding why. I want to go home, wherever that is, and have a family again.”
“Soon, Jetta,” Jaeia said, hugging her. “Jahx will heal, and we’ll find Galm and Lohien—maybe even our real parents—and then we’ll be a family again.”
Even if Jaeia was humoring her a little, Jetta didn’t care; it was what she wanted to hear.
“Jaeia,” Jetta began. Her sister tried to pull away, but she didn’t let go. “I’m not running, okay? We’re going see this through together. Miracles can happen, you know.”
Jaeia laughed and finally pulled free. Gray eyes remained solemn, but her words held firm. “I still have hope.”
REHT JAGGER ORDERED his crew to fan out around the waste refinery. The terrible stink of rotten fish and burning oil singed his nose, but the excitement in his gut built with every putrid breath. So close.
Even as armed men and crossbreed dogs walked the parameter in organized teams, Reht could only think of the massive cash flow coming his way.
This is going to be a huge payout, he thought, glancing up at the twilight sky layered with puffs of refinery smoke.
Reht rechecked his surroundings. Barbed wire wound around the barrier wall in a deadly maze, and laser traps flickered on every post.
“You ever seen a dog-soldier run anything this tight?” Reht whispered to his first mate as he crouched lower. “This ain’t right. Reeks of military.”
Grumbling, Mom surveyed the landscape, silver eyes narrowing with predatory focus.
“See that smokestack?” Reht said, pointing to the column of black smoke pumping from an unseen source. “Looks like engine burnoff. Somebody’s itchin’ for a ride.”
Mom made a slicing motion across his neck.
“Yeah, probably should turn back. We don’t have the manpower for this kind of in-and-out,” Reht said, nudging Mom in the shoulder. “Ha ha, just joking. We can retire on this payout.”
The giant Talian rolled his eyes.
“Look, there’s a blind spot on the eastern wall. I’m going to take a look. You keep the boys here, and keep ‘em ready.”
Mom grabbed him and growled.
“Hey, old friend—I know what I’m doing, so just wait for my signal.”
Without waiting for Mom’s response, Reht jumped off their lookout point and slid down the mountain of garbage on the heels of his boots. Oily refuse rubbed up against his back, and he bit his tongue to silence his disgust.
After reaching the bottom of the refuse heap, he crept around the eastern wall, hugging the cement. As the searchlights swung back and forth, he counted the seconds in his head before making his move. Just as a light swept his previous position, he jumped into a narrow crevice between the juncture of two structural pillars.
“Chak,” Reht muttered. “Too close.”
He reassessed his position. Even though his crew couldn’t see him, he still had his com. To be certain, he switched it off and tucked it under the bandages of his left hand. In a pinch, he’d need it, but he couldn’t risk it going off and alerting the enemy.
As the searchlights danced across the other end of the perimeter, Reht jumped and grabbed the overhanging trellis. With a grunt he pulled himself up and over. He stayed low, popping his head over the lip of the barrier wall to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond.
“What the...?”
He popped up again, this time taking a longer look. Humans knelt together in rows, handcuffed and leashed together at the neck, muted by dermabond strips taped over their mouths. Thugs with their crossbreed dogs walked among them, snapping shockwands in their faces. Most had been stripped down to minimal cover.
My Gods—there are even children, he thought, spotting groups of little bodies huddling together for warmth.
Chilled by the sights and the frigid air, Reht pulled his jacket closer around his body. Aeternyx’s warmer temperatures usually hit twelve degrees Celsius, but today, without the protection of the city’s heated streets, the southern winds made it unusually brisk.
Keep looking, he willed himself.
About fifty meters away, a cargo freighter with the name Ultio inscribed in graffiti letters across her broadside rumbled with her engines in pre-cycle. Guards led a score of chained humans up the ramp, dogs barking at their heels.
Then he saw her. Even at a distance her figure was unmistakable. Her hand rested on the perfect curve of her hip, her shoulders thrown back to accentuate her augmented chest. She had dyed her hair again, this time black with a purplish hue. Holding a dataclip, she talked intimately with a small, wiry fellow as one of the thugs counted the humans entering the ship.
Reht remembered Sebbs’ warning: It’s a setup.
Closing his eyes, Reht pushed aside the warring tides of his mind. No, the job didn’t feel right—
(—I don’t feel right—)
—but he needn’t worry. What he had to do was so simple. Brash, and definitely stupid, but this would reap him untold rewards.<
br />
Reht leapt off the barrier wall and walked right into the searchlight.
“Keep your hands where I can see them and get on your knees,” a voice behind the searchlight shouted.
Reht turned his head to avoid the piercing glare. “Hey, man, it’s good. I’m just here to visit my girl.”
A gang of thugs jumped on top of him in a matter of seconds. In the background, Ro and Cray emerged from behind cover, but Reht licked his lips, signaling that he wanted them to stay put.
“What the hell are you doing here?” one of the thugs said, wrenching his arm behind his back.
Despite the excruciating pain Reht gritted out a smile. “I told you—I wanted to visit my lady friend. Where is she anyway? Where’s my Diawn?”
The thugs exchanged glances. The one with a nasty scar across his nose looked him up and down before letting out an exasperated snort. “You’re insane.”
But they didn’t argue any further. One grabbed him by the neck and led him into the compound, pushing his face down so he couldn’t see anything but the ground beneath his feet.
“So, boys, gotta ask—what the hell do you want with these disease-breeding fleshbags? Deadskins aren’t fetching a good price with real estate being this tight,” Reht said.
The thug on his left scoffed. “Not everyone wants them hauling brick or pushin’ out babies.”
“Quiet,” the one holding Reht’s neck said, punching his accomplice in the chest.
This is too easy, he laughed to himself.
The white of her boots strode into view just before one of them connected with his chin. “Why did you bring this sack of sycha in here?”
Reht hated the taste of blood. He spat a few times and checked his teeth with his tongue before daring to look up. “Hey, Di. Nice to see you, too.”
Chancing a glance to his left, Reht spied another chained line of humans filing onto the ramp of the freighter. The stink of body odor and urine hit him hard, turning his gut and making him wish back the smell of the landfill.
“Want me to take care of this assino?” Diawn’s wiry companion said.
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