“I saw her...” Jaeia said, fighting the sedative’s effects as her resolve washed away. She looked straight into the overhead light and laughed, tears streaming from her eyes. “I saw my mother.”
EVEN AS JAEIA’S SCREAMS faded in the next room, Triel could afford no time to investigate. Jetta’s wounds were serious enough that the Healer had sensed the fallen commander’s injuries even before she had been transported to the critical care unit.
“Jetta,” the Healer whispered as they pushed her stretcher under the exam light. “No...”
Her knees, suddenly weak, didn’t feel like they could support her weight. Stomach churning, she looked again at Jetta and confirmed her greatest fear.
“What’s your impression, Triel? What could have done this? None of the other crewmen were injured,” Dr. Kaoto said, waving a bioscanner over Jetta’s mangled body.
This is worse than I could have imagined.
The commander’s hands were an ugly red, and suppurating blisters had broken open over the skin of her neck, chest and thighs. Ugly black streaks branched out from the fissures in her skin, and the smell—the acrid stench Triel had only encountered once in her lifetime—carved terror into her heart.
“No agent is registering on the bioscanner. However, I’m reading a systemic inflammatory response, necrosis of tissue, ketoacidosis,” Kaoto remarked. “Thank the Gods they evaced in time.”
Triel elevated the stretcher and stood at Jetta’s head. Even unconscious, the commander’s eyes stayed open, her pupils dilated with unseen horror.
“Triel, please—do you know what this is?” Kaoto asked.
The Healer knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer the chief just yet. “I just have to make sure...” Triel said, resting her hands on Jetta’s neck and falling in.
“Ai-lĕ, ime, Ai-lĕ—nos k’etekµe imæ Ai-lĕ”
“Dk’a ovŋĭl sh’dar’o”
—her people’s words—prayers she hadn’t heard in so long—
Triel relived Jetta’s encounter as she foolishly tried to connect to the dark force harnessed by the Motti. A long time ago on Algar, Triel had experienced a similar dysphoria, but with her tribe—never alone like Jetta, and certainly never against a horde of the Fallen.
Jetta’s pain assaulted the Healer as she was drawn into the malevolent web of the Dissembler mind, seduced by their caustic whispers, body and mind detached, mind eclipsed as the body dissolved from the inside out.
Then Triel heard his words: (Umnïero, Amaroka, f’ro ime nos wrli e)
— I give myself to the Great Mother so that she may wield my spirit—
(My Gods—) Triel cried out.
Just as the Dissemblers were about to deal Jetta the final blow, Triel felt him, jarring her concentration. Bewildered, the Healer fell backwards but struggled to stay anchored, not wanting to lose his essence, even if it was only a memory. He shielded Jetta from the final onslaught, pushing her away from the halo of light, back to her body on the safety of her ship.
(Please, no!) Triel screamed, seeing his kind face in the blur of light before Jetta’s memory faded away.
“My Gods,” Triel whispered as tears cascaded down her cheeks.
“What is it, Triel?” Dr. Kaoto asked, holding her by the shoulders.
“Dissemblers—it was Dissemblers that did this. And one of them—one of them,” she said, stumbling backwards. “Was my...”
Father.
“We’re losing her,” one of the nurses shouted, the alarms shrieking.
Triel wiped the tears from her eyes with shaky hands and returned to Jetta’s body.
“Are you well enough to—” Kaoto started.
“I’m fine. Everybody, please, stay back,” Triel said as she laid her hands on the sides of Jetta’s face.
With the commander’s awareness buried beneath the lies of Dissembler, Triel couldn’t forge the usual connection to bring her patient’s mind and body into sync. The rest of Jetta’s body, succumbing to the Dissembler-created illusion of disease, turned upon itself, ravaging every cell and structure.
If I don’t act now, her body—and mind—will consume itself, she thought, not allowing herself to assess the true risk. She had done a full immersion on Jetta before, but never against the black tide of her peoples’ dark power.
(Don’t be afraid,) Triel whispered, sinking deeper into Jetta’s mind, trying to find her essence. She met with resistance—from the malignancy of the Dissemblers, but also from Jetta. Pushing harder, Triel fought through the infectious deceit, holding fast to her mission.
(I can’t let you see me,) Jetta whispered back.
Pride and fear swathed the commander’s mind, preventing Triel from breaking through. (Jetta, you have to let me help you or you’ll die. Do it for Jaeia, please!)
Reminding her of her twin usually worked, but not this time. Jetta resisted further, pulling away from Triel as cells erupted in a massive cascade effect. In the periphery of the Healer’s mind, alarms blared and Dr. Kaoto frantically shouted for cardiac stabilizers.
(I can’t let you,) Jetta said again.
Even though they never discussed their relationship, there had always been an inexplicable bond between them, deeper and more complex than most friendships. Because of their unusual ages and circumstances, Triel hadn’t pursued anything further, especially given how closely Jetta shielded her feelings from others. But now, seeing Jetta’s life bleeding away, she knew she would have to expose what had been left unspoken.
(Jetta... I care about you. Please, let me help you.)
Shame and terror pooled all around her, but Jetta’s mind yielded just enough to allow Triel to slip inside. Layering herself against Jetta’s psionic tune, she began the healing process, funneling Jetta’s consciousness back into her body and guiding her mind back to her soul.
Submersed deeper inside a patient than she had ever gone before, Triel didn’t grasp her place within her friend until she heard whispers sounding from an unseen source. Curious, Triel shifted her connection, illuminating the hidden realm within.
I shouldn’t be here, Triel realized, seeing the luminescent ghosts of Jetta’s inner world act out dreams and yearnings. But as she thought to leave, she caught the edge of something buried in the farthest reaches of Jetta’s subconscious.
Held away from others, away from her sister—even away from herself—Jetta sheltered her greatest secret. Drenched in humiliation and bound by grief, her secret pulsated with the light of a thousand stars. Wounded and vulnerable, Jetta couldn’t prevent her from seeing it, if only for a glimpse.
Triel gasped in disbelief.
(Jetta,) Triel whispered. (I didn’t know—)
(Get out!) Jetta screamed.
With her remaining strength, Jetta lashed out, severing her connection to the Healer. Triel spun back and away, reeling as she reentered her own body.
“Grab her!”
Strong arms caught Triel as she fell backwards, gently guiding her to the floor as she regained her sight.
“Is she—?” the Healer forced through numb lips.
“Jetta’s stabilized,” Kaoto said. “Get her to the treatment room, now!”
“What?” Triel said. The hands that helped her now held her down in the confusion of movement all around her. Medics crowded around her, grabbing at her limbs.
“Stop!” the Healer shouted, sensing what was coming. “You don’t know what you’re doing—”
She fought until she couldn’t move her arms anymore, until her legs felt heavier than cement. As the world faded to black, Triel listened as the voices above her discussed her fate.
“WHAT DID HE SAY?” THE Minister asked.
DeAnders checked his clipboard, flipping down the screen and putting his finger on the line. “Oh, here. ‘His name is Josef Stein.’ And that’s all he said before we lost him.”
“What do you mean, lost him?” the admiral asked, looking down at the motionless body of Jahx Kyron, formerly belonging to the Grand
Oblin.
“He’s showing minimal brain activity; nonresponsive to any of our therapies. If I can’t have Triel on this case, then I’m afraid I’m out of options.”
The Minister threw an indignant look at the admiral before speaking. “Keep him stabilized, Doctor. I’ll consult with you after we secure the situation on Erion.”
The admiral followed the Minister out of the Defense/Research lab and back to the quarantined area in the medical ward.
“Josef Stein—oh my Gods,” the admiral said under his breath.
The Military Minister burst through the double doors to the critical care unit. “I want everyone out except you!”
Dr. Kaoto stayed by Jaeia’s bedside while the rest of the team scattered behind the partition.
“Is the Healer secured?” Tidas asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Kaoto said. “We put her in cryostasis.”
“Cryostasis? I only ordered sedation,” the admiral said.
“Yes, Sir,” Kaoto said, looking to the Minister. “But Prodgy telepaths have the ability to maintain some degree of telepathic awareness even in sleep. Cryostasis is the only way to eliminate all telepathic functions.”
“You overrode my order?” Damon asked, turning to Razar.
The Military Minister got in his face, enough so that Unipoesa could smell the antacids on his breath. “If you can’t secure the situation with the Kyrons, I’m keeping the Healer on ice—indefinitely.”
“But Jahx—” Damon started.
“That’s my final decision,” the Minister said, straightening his uniform top. “We’ve lost almost all of Erion, and we’re about to lose its third moon, Tellemikas. I need the twins back on this situation, now, before that ship hits the perimeter.”
The Minister said something quietly to Kaoto before turning back to the admiral. “I’m sending Wren to the front lines to try launching nukes again. But if you can’t secure the twins and Wren is lost, then you’re next in line for the big chair.”
“Yes, Sir,” the admiral said, barely rising above the voice screaming inside of him. I can’t command again—it was all a fluke—
(I am a fluke.)
Quieting old demons with the promise of alcohol, the admiral watched the Military Minister exit the medical wing in a hurry to get back to Central Command.
Damon looked at the interface on his uniform sleeve. Blue holographics projected the latest estimated death toll on Erion at 4.5 billion.
I have to secure the twins.
(I can’t take command again.)
After smoothing down his thinning hair, he addressed Kaoto. “Alright, I want both sisters awake—but keep a line in them just in case. No restraints, though.”
Dr. Kaoto nodded. “I understand, Admiral,” he said, signaling one of the nurses to wheel Jetta’s stretcher next to Jaeia’s “However, there’s something else I need to tell you about them—there are some very strange findings.”
“I don’t have the time, doctor,” the admiral said, rolling up his sleeves. “Get them awake.”
“But these findings are very—”
“It will have to wait, doctor. Revive them.”
Kaoto frowned, but drew up the yellow medication from the medport and administered the reversals in their intravenous lines. Within seconds, the twins came around.
“Admiral,” Jaeia said, her voice dry and scratchy as she tried to sit up. “Is everything alright? Where’s Jetta?”
Pupils pinpoint and unfocused, Jetta held her head in her hands in the adjacent bed. “I’m here. What just happened?”
“You’re both fine. Jaeia, you sustained a head injury, and Jetta some systemic and localized tissue damage, both of which Triel was able to heal,” Dr. Kaoto reported.
“Thank you, doctor. Now, if you don’t mind...” the admiral said, pointing towards the door. Irritated but compliant, Kaoto left the room, positioning himself behind the observation station to continue to monitor the twins’ physiological progress.
“Jaeia, Jetta—both of your missions were prematurely aborted,” Damon said. “Triel saved your lives, and I came here to talk to you about saving hers.”
Jetta held her head in her hands. “What the hell are you talking about?”
The admiral rolled a footstool between the stretchers. Assuming they already knew the details of her ordeal, he cut to the chase: “She doesn’t know that we altered the memories of Reht and his crew, and she can’t know. It’s a potential trigger for her to Fall.”
Jetta’s face turned bright red. Still emerging from the sedation, he could tell by her tight jaw and creased forehead that she hadn’t organized all her thoughts to give him hell just yet.
“Sleepers,” Jaeia said, closing her eyes. “You made Reht and his crew into Sleepers.”
Damon took a deep breath. Full disclosure is the ultimate risk. “It was the only option.”
He saw them both mounting their arguments, tempers flaring—even Jaeia’s—so he did something he promised he wouldn’t. “Despite your friendship, I’m sure Reht has not shared with you his violent history.”
“What do you mean?” Jaeia said.
“The destruction of Elia, for starters. Reht has betrayed all those who have trusted him. To the Alliance, he’s an unknown quantity, making him dangerous to the Fleet and therefore the Starways. I will be honest with you: We’re using him as a Sleeper to gain intelligence on a key figure that may be involved in the silent genocide that’s happening across the Starways.”
“You mean the disappearance of human colonies,” Jaeia said.
“Yes. He’s the only person who could possibly get close to our lead source. After that mission is complete, he can run his life the way he wants—playing his pirate games, screwing women, whatever.”
“But you won’t release him from the programming,” Jaeia pointed out. “Even after you’ve risked his life.”
The admiral shook his head. “We’ll always keep tabs on him. He’s too big a security risk.”
A vein throbbed on Jetta’s forehead. “What did you do to Triel? How could she possibly not know what happened to Reht?”
“It was taken care of,” the admiral said.
“No, it wasn’t,” Jaeia whispered, sliding off the stretcher. Her legs wobbled at first, but she found her footing, using the assistance of a tray table. Slowly walking toward him, Jaeia kept her gray eyes pinned to his face, searching for something. “You tried to erase her memories, but it didn’t work. And I found them. She’ll remember now, if she tries.”
“Is that so?” the admiral said.
“I’m certain of it. And I need her—we need her. She knows things about our past.”
The admiral raised a brow. “What do you mean, Jaeia?”
“That’s all I can say.”
Damon didn’t believe her, not with the resolute look in Jaeia’s eyes or the way her sister’s expression changed from anger to astonishment.
They’re silently communicating, he realized, watching Jetta’s blood pressure rise on the monitors. Whatever Jaeia leeched form Triel is eliciting a strong reaction in Jetta.
“We’ve deployed every single warship in the Fleet, so we need you two suited up and ready to ship out as soon as Dr. Kaoto clears you, is that understood?” he said, hardening his voice.
Jetta tipped her head back and laughed. “You can’t fight what the Motti has.”
“You confirmed it was a Motti ship?” he said.
“Oh yes,” Jetta said, her laughter dying. “And nothing will stop them from killing us all. Not even with every warship in this galaxy and the greatest commander at her helm. They’ve harnessed pure malice.”
“I get it now,” Jaeia whispered, her eyes moving rapidly back and forth. “The ship is a giant communications dish—and it projects the telepathic vibrations of the Dissemblers.”
“But we have weapons—” the admiral said.
“You don’t get it,” Jetta said, hoping off the stretcher. As she ripped the intravenous lines out
of her hands, she passed around her sister to stand in front of the admiral. “We can’t get close enough to launch an attack, and they’ll have time to detect any traps we set.”
How the hell is she walking—standing—on such swollen legs? he wondered, trying to keep his eyes from dropping to Jetta’s red and weeping lower limbs. “Then what do you suggest, Commander?”
Blood dripped down Jetta’s hands and onto the white-tiled floor. “We took the Motti to the brink of extinction after the war, but somehow some of them survived and are really, really pissed off. There’s only one person who can get close enough to a Dissembler without being killed, and you’re trying to screw her seven different ways.”
“I don’t know if—”
“She’s the only one who can stop them,” Jetta said with great emphasis.
“How do you know? How could you guarantee that?” the admiral asked, standing so she would stop towering over him.
Jetta closed her eyes and turned her head to one side. “Something—someone—in there pushed me out when I thought of Triel. It’s the only reason I’m standing here. If her memory could do that much, then I know she could do much more.”
“Look,” Jetta said, tying her patient gown more securely around her waist as she headed for the door. “This military gorsh-shit, turning Sentients into Sleepers—that’s your price to pay, not mine. You want to save the galaxy, you have to level with Triel.”
“Excuse me,” Dr. Kaoto said, rounding the corner, stopping Jetta from leaving. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”
“Don’t start with me, Doc. I’ve had a very bad day, and I want to see Triel and my brother now,” Jetta said, trying to shove him aside.
The smaller, hybrid human stood his ground. “You can’t—I still need to treat you.”
“What for?” Jetta asked, arms on her hips. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry to disagree with you, Commander,” Kaoto said, giving a slight bow.
The admiral watched as Jetta’s face, then Jaeia’s, drain of all color.
“So... how long do we have?” Jaeia whispered.
“Doctor,” the admiral said, grabbing Kaoto’s arm. “What is this all about?”
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