Triorion Omnibus

by L. J. Hachmeister

  “I tried to tell you earlier,” he said, handing the admiral a datafile.

  Even though the he felt pressure in the back of his mind as he read the datafile, the admiral didn’t stop the twins from reading his thoughts.

  “What does this mean?” Unipoesa asked, not understanding the complex prognosis.

  Dr. Kaoto took the file back and faced the sisters. “Our latest scans have revealed marked endogenous and exogenous damage to your DNA. Have you been noticing any troublesome symptoms?”

  “I thought it was stress,” Jaeia said, fidgeting with her gown.

  Jetta scoffed. “This is a joke, right? What are you saying? That we’re dying?”

  The room fell silent as Dr. Kaoto manually adjusted the artificial lens in his right eye. “Unless we find a pure source of your DNA, then the degradation will be irreversible and eventually your organs will fail.”

  “But Triel can heal anything,” Jetta said, her voice carrying her concern.

  Dr. Kaoto shook his head. “Her healing techniques rely on your DNA as a source code. Essentially, you’re the blueprint, and she guides your cells to reconstruct themselves accordingly. But since your DNA is corrupted, her powers are limited.”

  “How did this happen?” the admiral asked. “Why didn’t the biochips pick this up?”

  “My best supposition would be that the alterations the Motti made to enhance their growth and strength corrupted their DNA, and that the mutations were initially miniscule enough that they went undetected by the biochips—and, incidentally, by Triel.”

  The admiral moved just in time as Jetta’s hand came crashing down onto the nearby instrument cart, caving it in and scattering instruments across the unit. “That is a load of gorsh-shit!”

  “He’s not lying, Jetta,” Jaeia said, leaning against the stretcher and covering her eyes. “You know it’s true.”

  “Well, where the hell would we find a ‘pure source’ of our DNA?” Jetta said.

  Dr. Kaoto shifted his feet. “That’s where things become complicated.”

  “What about Fiorah? Have you looked in our old apartment?”

  The admiral chose his words carefully. “We shared those intelligence reports with you. There was some sort of electrical fire in the community housing block you lived in shortly after you were taken by the Core. There wasn’t anything to salvage.”

  “How much time do we have?” Jetta asked.

  Dr. Kaoto looked at his datafile. “From the looks of these markers—a few months. Maybe less. It’s hard to predict.”

  “Great,” Jetta laughed. “All that’s left for you to tell me is that Jahx is dead.”

  The admiral cleared his throat. “Drs. DeAnders and Kaoto had to induce coma again. His new body is too unstable.”

  Jetta’s lips curled in as she transformed her hands into fists. “Fine,” she said, looking for her belongings next to her stretcher. After finding her weapons belt and uniform, though bloodied and ripped, she began dressing herself.

  The admiral and Dr. Kaoto turned away as she disrobed.

  “My guess is that you put Triel on ice,” Jetta said, pouring fire into every word. “That leaves my brother in a coma from which he may never emerge, my aunt and uncle missing but most likely dead, and my sister and I are toast. So—what’s left, eh?”

  “Jetta,” the admiral said, approaching her with caution. “We still need you. The Starways still needs you. You and your sister are our best battle commanders.”

  Jetta ignored him, but Jaeia grabbed her arm and spun her around. Putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder, Jaeia stared intently into Jetta’s eyes while their bodies swayed back and forth in unison. The rapid exchange of information never failed to make his skin prickle. I would give anything for that talent.

  “Commanders, what’s going on?” the admiral demanded.

  “I was just giving her a reason to stay,” Jaeia said, holding up a hand to keep her sister quiet. “But the bottom line is, we still need each other, and we’re going to have to have complete disclosure if we’re going to continue this relationship.”

  “And Triel off ice,” Jetta added vehemently.

  (Oh Tarsha—what have I done?)

  Pushing aside the thoughts of his former student, the admiral made a decision he knew he would later regret.

  “I’ll tell you the most important reason to stay,” he said, checking his pockets for a smoke, even though he knew he was out. “1,128 years ago, there was a ship that disappeared during the Exodus from Earth. A very important man was on it—one who had the technology for biosphere resurrection. Until you two appeared, nobody thought there was any chance that he could have made it. But that tattoo on your arm and your unusual age—it may be the key.”

  “How so?” Jaeia asked.

  “At the time it was customary for passengers to tattoo the symbol of their vessel crest on their arms. If we can find the name of your ship and match it to your tattoo... well, then there’s hope that he could have survived, too.”

  “And then what?” Jetta said.

  “All these dead planets—all the worlds destroyed by the Motti, even Earth—we can resurrect. We can find homes for all the refugees. The Starways will be reborn.”

  “Admiral,” Kaoto whispered, shaking his head.

  I know—I’ve just signed my own death warrant.

  But even if the Minister had him killed for what he did, the twins knew the truth.

  I finally did something right.

  “What was this man’s name?” Jetta asked.

  “Kurt Stein.”

  The twins looked at him skeptically. Pressure built in the back of his mind, and he allowed his guard to fall.

  (I am risking everything for this.)

  The pressure ceased. Identical looks of satisfaction lit their eyes.

  “But something troubles me,” the admiral said as he watched Kaoto disappear behind the monitoring station to alert the Minister. If only I could have seen Tarsha one more time. “Your brother—the last thing he said before he went into a coma. He said, ‘His name is Josef Stein.’ Do you have any idea why?”

  Jetta and Jaeia exchanged glances.

  Believing them to be ignorant, he explained further: “He was the man who started the biological warfare that ended Earth. He’s the notorious Doctor Death.”

  Jetta went pale. “Doctor Death?”

  “And Kurt Stein was his son,” the admiral added.

  Jetta seemed troubled by the name. “Josef Stein... Doctor Death,” she mumbled.

  “It was your fighting name on Earth,” Jaeia reminded her.

  “N-no,” Jetta stuttered, covering her mouth. “There’s more. When he made the connection between Josef and Kurt... I felt something more.”

  A score of guards entered the critical care unit.

  “You don’t have much time,” Jaeia said to the admiral as the guards filed into the unit.

  “I know,” Unipoesa said, adjusting his uniform and patting his hair down. I never wanted it to end like this.

  With the ghosts of his former students by his side, he imparted what he could: “You’re more than just battle commanders, Jetta, Jaeia. You’re a chance at a new beginning; you can lead us to rebuilding our worlds. That’s why the Minister has kept so much from you, and that’s why you can’t know your own importance.”

  “Admiral Unipoesa, you’re under arrest for treason by order of Military Minister Razar,” one of the guards announced.

  The tip of a gun poked into his ribs, but he didn’t go quietly. “Don’t give up. Keep fighting. Believe in the Alliance,” he shouted as the doors clamped shut behind him.

  He’d never been electrocuted by a shockwand before, though he had ordered it numerous times on his students in the Command Development Program. As the blue arc snaked out of the wand and bit into his side, he thought only of Tarsha. Will they ever let us wake up again?

  Body bucking and twisting, the admiral hit his head on the floor before his arms could c
ushion the blow.

  JETTA THOUGHT SHE AND her sister would be arrested and imprisoned after Admiral Unipoesa’s disclosure. Instead, the Minister ordered them to be escorted to the Alliance flagship, the Star Runner, where he met them in the upper deck observatory. With CCO Wren at the helm, the ship rumbled and shook as every available weapon discharged in rapid fire.

  “You bendakca asjole!” Jetta cursed, heading straight for the Minister as soon as the guards left. But before she could take more than a few steps, her sister’s emotions defanged her attack.

  “My Gods,” Jaeia said, rushing to the two-story windows overlooking the battle. Erion, once a blue and green planet, had crusted over into a brown and black wasteland. Ships that couldn’t escape the distortion field turned nose down, adrift, life support and backup drives failing within seconds. The Alliance starcraft synchronized their retreat, staying a good distance from the encroaching anomaly, setting traps and desperately firing weapons.

  “I feel them...” Jaeia said, pressing her hands against the glass.

  “No, Jaeia, don’t—” Jetta said, trying to prevent her sister from opening up their telepathic channel.

  Gasping, Jaeia fell to her knees, clutching her head in her hands. Jetta stood her ground the best she could, trying to block out the torment of the planet below. Billions of Sentient minds blasted their agony across the psionic plane, their suffering roiling through her with molten fury as the Dissemblers tore them apart.

  —save me, Gods—

  —skin peeling away—

  —blood spilling—

  —my insides—

  —on fire, I—

  —pain and madness—

  —burning lights of—

  —Hell—

  “Make it stop,” Jaeia whispered, crawling over and gripping her sister’s pant leg.

  Tipping her head back, Jetta struck out against the panic-filled interspace and pulled herself and her twin back into the safety of their own minds. As the two of them retreated as far as they could, the peripheral pains lessened to a dull ache that lapped against their skulls like waves against a shore.

  After collecting herself, Jetta helped her sister off the ground, keeping her arm around her waist. “Why did you bring us here?” she said between breaths. “We can’t do anything without Triel.”

  “The Healer would prove a liability right now. So, it is up to you,” the Minister said, crossing his hands behind his back and positioning himself at the far window. “That ship will cross the border and into the Homeworlds in a few days. Trigos is only weeks away. We need you two back in command.”

  Jetta looked at her sister. Is it worth it?

  Tears welled in her sister’s eyes. The image of the woman Jaeia thought to be their mother flashed through Jetta’s mind.

  And what about Jahx—his impossible second chance at life? Jaeia added.

  I know... Jetta thought, unable to dismiss the miracle.

  A flash of bright light filled the observatory, then vanished. “Who the hell...?” the Minister exclaimed as the ship quaked in the aftermath. He rushed over an access terminal and punched into the secured com link to ring in the bridge. “Get me the CCO!”

  “What’s going on?” Jetta said, following the Minister’s gaze out the window. Near the port side of the flagship appeared a rogue legion of starcraft. The ship designs represented many different factions, making it difficult to determine who was leading them or what they stood for.

  Jaeia’s eyes narrowed as she sucked in her breath. Jetta heard her thought before she said it out loud. “This is a trick...”

  “Sir, they jumped within our ranks, but are not engaging us,” Wren said over the com as two starfighters broke from the rogue legion and accelerated towards the distortion field. “They’re heading straight for the event horizon.”

  “What is that?” the Minister said, pointing to the object in their tow.

  I’ve never seen anything like that before, Jetta thought, trying to understand the iridescent tetrahedral object that rotated and spun impossibly, as if fluctuating between dimensions of space and time.

  “It’s an illusion,” Jaeia replied.

  This isn’t right, Jetta said, sharing her sister’s sentiment.

  “Oh Gods—” the Minister said as the starfighters shot the tetrahedral object at the distortion field.

  Stolen memories overshadowed her own reaction as shockwave rippled back toward the Alliance Fleet, obliterating starcraft in its wake.

  (Never detonate a warhead so close to your Fleet—)

  (We’re all going to die!)

  Sirens alarmed, but Jetta had no time to respond as the detonation wave struck the ship and flung them into the air. She racked her shoulder and chest against a support pillar, knocking the wind from her lungs. As she gasped for breath, she looked over to see Jaeia rolling onto her side, stunned from her crash-landing against the far wall. The Minister fared the worst, cracking his head open on the edge of the observatory relay station.

  “All hands to battle stations,” Wren shouted over the com. “Repeat, all hands to battle stations.”

  The second wave hit the Star Runner, this time catapulting Jetta against a bulkhead. Electrical wires fizzled out and dropped from the ceiling as a series of internal explosions rocked the ship. Jetta rolled out from beneath the live wires, ignoring the pain in her neck and shoulder, and grabbed her sister lying next to her. “Are you okay?” she asked, helping her sister up.

  “I’m fine. The Minister—” Jaeia said, crawling over the overturned chairs. She kneeled next to him, careful not to move his body. “He doesn’t have a pulse. I’m starting emergency resuscitation”

  Jetta ran to the relay station but paused as she was about to hit the call button.

  (Let him die.)

  She went rigid, unable to move or think.

  (Watch him die,) the voice hissed. (Take what you will from him.)

  “Jetta?” Jaeia said. “What is it?”

  Confused, Jetta shook her head. No. That’s wrong. I know that’s wrong... isn’t it?

  “Make the call!” Jaeia shouted.

  Jetta snapped to attention. “I need the medical team to the observatory. The Minister is down,” she yelled over the intercom.

  Picking her way back to her sister and the Minister, Jetta minded her footing as the ship continued to rumble and quake. “Sorry, Jaeia. I just... I just don’t know what I’m thinking sometimes.”

  “Get down here and help me,” Jaeia said, pumping on the Minister’s chest.

  But Jetta couldn’t. Something dark inside her unfurled, turning her limbs into cold wax. She stood transfixed, unable to move as her sister struggled to administer emergency treatment.

  (He betrayed you. He hurt your friends.)

  “Please, I need you—help me!” Jaeia pled as she started to fatigue.

  Despite her sister’s desperation saturating her mind, Jetta couldn’t move. With her feet cemented to the floor and muscles rendered inert, she felt her mind exposed and vulnerable to the foul thing lurking in the sewers of her subconscious.

  (He has always deceived you,) the incubus whispered in her ear. (He will hurt everyone you love.)

  Jolted by a vicious impulse, Jetta lurched forward. I have to make sure the Minister doesn’t survive—at all costs.

  (If Jaeia gets in my way, I will hurt her, too.)

  “Sorry, Commander,” a medic said, coming up from behind them. “We’ve got injury reports coming in from all over the ship.”

  Broken from her thoughts, Jetta shuddered. What is happening to me? Ashamed and embarrassed, she stammered, “Jaeia, I’m so sorry—I don’t know what came over me.”

  The look on Jaeia’s face made her cringe. “We should get to the bridge,” her sister said quietly, keeping her distance. “There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

  Jetta watched as the medical team attached electrodes to the Minister’s chest, unsure of what she was feeling and too afraid to put any tho
ught to it.

  “Come on,” Jaeia said, pulling at her arm.

  “Fine, let go,” Jetta relented. Once she got her arm freed from her sister, Jetta retied her hair back, only to inadvertently pull out a handful.

  Oh no.

  Looking at her sister, Jetta saw more of the same disturbing signs. Jaeia’s skin, paler than ever before, only served to exacerbate the dark bags beneath her eyes.

  Don’t think of that now, she told herself.

  “Let’s grab a lift,” Jetta said as they entered the corridor.

  “Maybe not,” Jaeia remarked, fanning the smoke from her face. Inoperative lifts and shattered equipment formed various blockades across the walkways. “I guess we’re running.”

  Soldiers, trapped beneath fallen beams and debris, cried out for help as they ran through the corridors and down the access shafts to the bridge. Before Jetta could even put her thoughts to words, Jaeia cut her off: “I know we can’t help them right now.”

  Already too upset with herself to argue with her sister, Jetta swallowed her response as they squeezed through the broken doors leading to the bridge.

  “Commanders,” Wren acknowledged as he helped his helmsmen out from under a collapsed routing duct.

  “How’s the Fleet, Sir?” Jaeia asked, offering an extra hand.

  “We’ve lost a warship close to the impact point,” the CCO said, wiping the blood from his eyes. The cut above his brow looked deep, but none of his injuries appeared life-threatening. “I’m just getting the rest of the reports in now.”

  Jetta considered the options silently with her sister. “Lieutenant,” she said, addressing the navigations officer. “What are the readings on the distortion field?”

  The wounded officer crawled up to his terminal and punched in. When the numbers came up he blinked several times and got closer to the screen. “This can’t be right.”

  “Report, lieutenant!” Wren said.

  “Sir, these readings indicate that the distortion field is... receding.”

  “Chief, my sister and I can helm two warships and pursue,” Jetta offered.

  Before Wren could respond, the viewscreen fizzled and popped. An image oscillated across the projectors, and a high-frequency whine shrilled over the speakers.