Tales From The Scrapbox

by Jo Grix

Three years ago, Daniel had asked people when summer was coming. He had been given odd looks and informed, this is summer. He still could not believe how cold it got on Aurin, even on the equator. If he had not already been questioning his sanity, Daniel figured that getting up before dawn to watch the sunrise in temperatures that were at, if not below, freezing definitely qualified as a moment to stop and think about his life. If he did not freeze first.

  As the gold and red light of dawn faded into the more normal pale pink, Daniel reminded himself that he’d had a second reason for standing on a roof in freezing weather. With fingers made clumsy from the cold and his gloves, he slid a small speaker into his ear and pressed play on the wrist control.

  “Greetings Zero Zero Nine. And congratulations on your victory on Aurin. I hope you have not decided to retire already to become an Operator, Agent, because you have a new mission.”

  Three years since the last time he had heard one of these prerecorded audio files, and six since the last time he had been home, but the old jokes remained. “Should you choose to accept,” Daniel muttered as he hoisted himself on top of the casing to the environmental controls. Sure, the roof of the training center offered a good view, but Daniel liked being on top of the tallest, stable structure in his immediate area, and after a stray shot during a surprise attack had almost ended his career, he wasn’t allowed on top of the battle drone storage bays any more.

  “There is a Class Four planet that has been targeted by the Vyperans and in need of assistance. There have been rumors of people on that planet discovering and using Class Seven technology during the past decade. No one has managed to produce verification yet. Your assignment is to infiltrate that world with a team of your choosing, determine if Class Seven technologies are being used, and offer assistance to the planet in dealing with the Vyperans.”

  Daniel straightened, “I get to pick my own team? What’s the catch?”

  “The courier ship Omega is standing by to return you to Central, along with anyone from Aurin you chose to recruit.”

  Daniel snorted. “Like I’m going to sucker anyone around here into the service. I’d rather sleep in a bed of poison ivy.”

  “You are expected back here as soon as possible, Zero Zero Nine. You have a lot of work to do.” The recording went silent for a moment and Daniel reached up to pull the speaker from his ear. A soft click made him hesitate, and a second recording, this one from his immediate superior, started. “Daniel, while normally this assignment would go to a senior agent, you are the person best suited to the task given your unique knowledge of Earth.”

  Daniel froze, hand hovering at his ear. Then he scrambled for the control on his wrist, playing back the last bit of message. “You are the person best suited to the task given your unique knowledge of Earth.”

  “Yes!” Daniel shouted, launching himself off the casing to perform his best imitation of a game winning touchdown dance.

  The trap door opened with a squeal and a bang. Daniel went still. Moments later his friend Jay’mez appeared, scrambling off the access ladder with all the grace of a baby giraffe standing up for the first time.

  “Are you ok?” Jay’mez asked as he brushed his hands off. He looked pointedly at Daniel’s left arm, where the bulk of his winter weight clothing hid a bandage.

  Even after weeks to adjust, Daniel still could not get over how much of a different shaving Jay’mez’s dark hair made. “I, uh, yeah,” he grinned, “I just heard some really good news. Like, the kind of good news I never expected to get.”

  “Does this have anything to do with a ship called the Omega?” Jay’mez asked.

  “Sort of, yeah, why? How did you know?” Daniel asked. A siren started up and Daniel turned to see if he could spot the trouble. Irritably, Daniel shoved his brown streaked blond hair out of his eyes as he traced a plume of smoke to its source. Not an air raid, Daniel thought, some poor schmuck burned his breakfast. And his stove. Probably his whole kitchen.

  Jay’mez’s voice brought Daniel back out to his thoughts. “Zakiyah just took a message from them on the vidcom that’s gotten her upset. Since you weren’t in bed, I figured you’d be indulging your love of heights by coming up here and wanted to warn you.”

  “Great, thanks,” Daniel said. “I suppose I should find her and explain.”

  “What’s going on?” Jay’mez asked. “Is everything alright?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Daniel said.

  “Daniel!” A woman shouted.

  “Time to face the music,” Daniel muttered, heading for the ladder.

  The training center was still littered with the wreckage from when a battle droid had been knocked out of the sky and crashed into the residential wing. Daniel preferred not to think too hard about how close the strike had come to killing them. “Do you realize that with most of my things either destroyed or buried under the rubble, I actually don’t have much to pack?”

  Jay’mez looked at him, “Why would you be packing?”

  “Yes, Daniel. Tell us, why would you be packing?” Zakiyah demanded. The dark haired leader of the Aurin Operators appeared around a bend in the hallway, her normally graceful stride impeded by a heavy limp and an elegantly carved cane.

  Daniel took a deep breath. “I’ve been recalled to Central and have to leave. There’s a message from the Omega then?”

  “They’re leaving as soon as you can get to the ship,” Zakiyah said.

  “That’s fast. I mean, I’m not a fan of long goodbyes, but even a short goodbye takes time.” In a way, Daniel was grateful he would not have to deal with a long goodbye. He knew his teammates. At least this way, he would be gone before it fully sunk in and they had enough to do helping the Aurin Council rebuild the planet to think about him.

  “You’re leaving?” Jay’mez said.

  “Um yes, didn’t I say that? It feels like I said that already. Orders; have to go. Apparently I don’t get any vacation time now, I’m off to save another planet.” Daniel eyed his friend for a moment, wondering if the supposedly healed head wound had done more damage than had been detected. When Jay’mez tried to catch his eyes, however, Daniel focused on the grey and white walls as if they were far more fascinating than Jay’mez’s too perceptive gaze.

  “The pilot from the Omega asked if there would be any additional passengers,” Zakiyah said.

  “That, well, Central seems to think I’ve recruited people to come with me,” Daniel said and rolled his eyes. “I’m not planning on that. I did not really have a choice about the whole become a spy thing, but you all have a choice. I strongly recommend you chose to stay and be Operators.”

  “I’m going,” Jay’mez said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin stubbornly.

  “What?” Daniel asked. “No, Jam, you don’t want to go.” He glanced at his friend and found that he was unable to look away from Jay’mez’s too perceptive blue eyes.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You don’t even know where I’m going,” Daniel said. He began to marshal his arguments as to why Jay’mez should stay on Aurin, but something he had forgotten interrupted the brewing argument.

  “What is this to you, a game? You walked in here, became an Operator, saved the planet and now you are off again to another planet. I thought you said you were not a typical agent. You sound pretty much like any other one I’ve heard of.” Zakiyah had always hated being ignored.

  “If it had been different orders, I’d have fought them. I would have done almost anything to get out of them and stay here, Zakiyah. For all I disagree with your oligarchy style of government, I like the people here.” Daniel glanced between the two of them and snorted, “This is starting to sound more like a bad break up than a resignation. I have to leave. I have to go pack. Maybe when this assignment is over I can come back and explain.”

  “Explain now.”

  “See, I would if I could,” Daniel said, “but I can’t. Not to say that the
Operators are untrustworthy, but if word got out where I was going, who has to say the other side would not find out? Good agents have been lost that way. I’m just going to leave it at this is the one assignment I won’t turn down or fight for more time on.”

  “Sure,” Zakiyah said, black eyes narrowed and accusing.

  “Would you stop pretending the world revolves around you?” Daniel shouted, “Because it doesn’t Zakiyah. Whoever told you that it does was lying.” He stepped back, “I have to go pack now.”

  Daniel ignored Zakiyah’s shouts as he walked away, taking a different hallway as soon as the opportunity presented itself. How could he find the words to explain that they were lucky that Central had sent a single junior agent to help them with all the other planets that were under siege; that the only reason Daniel had been sent had been to save or kill Aurin’s only valuable asset.

  As if the thought had summoned him, Programmer Fremin was waiting in the abandoned lab that Daniel and Jay’mez had claimed for a bedroom. The elderly Alterian genius smiled when he saw Daniel, “I understand you’re leaving us.”

  “I have to go,” Daniel said, “I’m sorry Fremin.” He took his keycard off, “You’ll need this.”

  “Keep it,” Fremin replied, pushing his hand back. “I can’t recode it for someone else, and you might need it to operate another battle droid. Do you think Jay’mez and Bri’tauni will honestly let you leave her alone?”

  The laugh was bitter and sharp, “I fully expect them to stow away if I refuse. They just need to be sure that this is their choice, not just a whim.” Daniel began to collecting the few things that had survived, absently tucking them into pockets, or dropping them on the bed. Among the things Daniel was taking was a pink hair band. Taking it from the box turned nightstand, he held the battered band for a moment, remembering his sister’s worried expression as she had pressed that band into his hand after pulling it out of her braid. “Just something to remember me by,” she’d said with a teary smile, “until you come back, Danny. Even if it is just to tell me you found them. You have to come back to me.”

  “Bri’tauni’s ready when you are.”

  Daniel jumped and looked up to find Jay’mez leaning against the doorframe. “Jay’mez,” he said.

  “It’s not safe for her here, Daniel,” Jay’mez said, “not now. Maybe not ever. Not unless she locks herself up like Fremin does. I don’t want that for Bri’tauni, that’s not why I fought.”

  Daniel sighed; he knew exactly what Jay’mez meant. The people of Aurin had not reacted well when reminded of the law stating that prisoners of war and victims of mind control had amnesty. Not when Bri’tauni had been a visible member of the invasion force for so long. Now, all Daniel had heard were mutters, but it would not take long for mutters to become shouting, riots and demonstrations. It would not matter that she had the scars of torture, that the remains of what had been done to her affected her in ways that were heartbreakingly obvious.

  No, the most obvious thing the mobs would notice was her face. The face of a woman who had nearly destroyed their planet.

  “Daniel?” Jay’mez asked.

  Daniel blinked, “Sorry, lost in thought.” He looked down at the band in his hand for a moment and shoved it into his pocket. “I’m supposed to put together a team for my assignment. I’ll need a good second out there.”

  “You know the rule, Daniel.”

  The two exchanged a glance, remembering their meeting on a cold evening many years ago. You can come with me, but there is only one rule. Whatever we do, it has to be fun and exciting, never boring.

  Daniel smiled back. “I make no promises, Jam.”

  “Daniel!”

  “I’m just Mister Popular today,” Daniel said, “In here, Kodah!”

  “You’re really leaving?” Kodah demanded as he came into the room.

  “Yes,” Daniel said, “I have to, orders.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in orders,” Kodah muttered. A single lock of black hair fell over the black patch that covered his brown eye, and his blue eye was icy enough to freeze Daniel’s blood.

  “No,” Daniel replied, “as I recall, I said that I don’t believe in following orders I don’t agree with or that come from people I can’t trust. In this case, I may have suspicions about the people giving my orders for personal reasons, but I like the orders and plan to follow them.”

  “Where are you going?” Kodah asked.

  “I can’t tell you. That’s cannot, not will not. I’m not allowed to reveal my orders to anyone.” Daniel replied. “That’s one of the rules I agree with. I mean, I trust you guys but you know how hard it is to keep secrets on base.”

  Kodah blushed and nodded, no doubt thinking of how quickly his relationship with Zakiyah and their other teammate, Ian, had become public knowledge.

  “So the base knows, and then gossip gets out. Soon, many people on planet know where I am going and what I am doing. That word gets to a mole we did not catch, and we both know that there were many more moles than Security caught. That mole passes word on to his Triadic Alliance masters. Word passes on and when I get where I am going, boom, another dead Agent. Therefore, I cannot tell anyone because I would like to die an old man, in my own bed, with my boots off. Preferably with my sister telling me I don’t drink martinis.”

  Kodah frowned at him for a moment, “I think I understood that. What’s a martini?”

  Daniel chuckled, “It’s a drink, don’t worry about it.”

  That is why he liked Kodah. Zakiyah was the spoiled, arrogant only daughter of a high-ranking society member, and she thought with her emotions up until the fighting started. Kodah was quieter and more logical, a product of his military upbringing. Kodah tended to put the brakes on Zakiyah’s more emotional reactions.

  “It’s funny,” Kodah said, “when the Omega called, they asked for ‘Agent Zero Zero Nine’, and then changed it to Daniel Anders.”

  “My code name,” Daniel said with a laugh. “It’s not much of a secret code name, I guess. It’s more of an easy identifier.”

  “But why Zero Zero Nine?” Jay’mez asked.

  “Zero Zero was a joke,” Daniel said, “it’s based on an Earth story. Nine is the number of other agents who got assignments my first day.”

  “You don’t like it do you?” Jay’mez asked.

  Daniel hesitated, “I think I would chose something different now.”

  “Then why don’t you change it?” Kodah asked.

  “I can’t,” Daniel replied, “once you’ve gotten a code name the only time it can be changed is if you’re part of a team. When the team is stronger than the individual, then the team name will supersede the individual.”

  “Sounds like a goal to me,” Jay’mez said.

  Daniel gave Jay’mez a distracted smile, slipping his hand in his pocket to finger the pink hair band. “Are you ready to go?” He asked.

  “I don’t have anything to pack,” Jay’mez replied, “and Bri’tauni’s waiting in the lounge.”

  “Let’s go then,” Daniel said.

  They headed down the hallway side by side, and Daniel had to watch that he did not stare at his friend instead of the hallway. “What can I expect when we get out of here?” Jay’mez asked.

  “First,” Daniel began.

  A wordless yell, then pain exploded in Daniel’s cheek before a form slammed into him, “Liar,” a harsh voice growled in his ear as Daniel fell back against Jay’mez.

  Daniel felt Jay’mez hit the wall even as his attacker fell back. “Ian,” Jay’mez said.

  “Don’t,” Daniel muttered as he steadied himself, “back off Jay’mez.”

  “But,” Jay’mez began.

  Daniel shook his head as his attacker came at him again, “Ian,” Daniel said, blocking a second punch. “I understand, I do. But I never said I would be here forever. If you would stop,” he gripped his friend’s arm and twisted it up behind him, �
�and listen to me for just one moment.” He pushed Ian against the wall. “Like I told Zakiyah, Kodah, and Programmer Fremin, if I had gotten any other orders, I would have done my best to either get a delay or to get out of it completely.”

  “Why these special orders?” Ian growled, trying to escape.

  Daniel sighed and lowered his head for a moment. Then he leaned into Ian, “Give me two months before you tell.”

  “Why?” Ian asked.

  “Because if word got out, I’d probably die before I made it,” Daniel said.

  “Fine,” Ian said after a long moment, relaxing.

  Daniel eyed Jay’mez for a moment, and then tilted his lips towards Ian’s ear, “They’re sending me and a team back to Earth. I am going home, to fight for my family. Tell me again that I should stay here when they’re giving me that.”

  Ian bowed his head, “Sorry hit you,” he said.

  Daniel stepped back, “That’s quite all right, Ian.”

  Ian turned, dark eyes searching for Daniel’s own, “You come back, see us?”

  Daniel chuckled, “You couldn’t keep me away if you paid me. I’m trusting in you to make sure Kodah, Zakiyah and Fremin don’t get killed while we’re gone.”

  Ian’s lips twitched, his equivalent of a full smile. “They live, promise.”

  It was probably silly for Daniel to find that relaxing, but it did. He knew that the slum-born Operator would defend his friends to the death, and he would probably do it with his personal dialect that blended the quirky speech of the slums with a touch of society polish. “Thank you,” Daniel said.

  Ian looked over Daniel’s shoulder at Jay’mez, “Keep him alive, Jam. We want him back.”

  “I will do my best,” Jay’mez replied sourly.

  “We have to go,” Daniel said, “the Omega is not known for having a patient captain.”

  “You know him?” Jay’mez said as they started down the corridor again.

  “Only by rumor and reputation,” Daniel said. “The Omega crew is one of those great courier ships that will be the stuff of legend by the time the war is over. They take the toughest jobs; fight in the worst fights, if someone calls it a suicide mission, the Omega takes the job.”

  “Nice to know our reputation precedes us,” someone said behind them.

  Daniel turned, and smiled fondly at the two women approaching them. “Bri’tauni,” Jay’mez said, “I thought you were in the lounge?”

  “There’s only so much time I can spend staring at torn furniture and broken cabinets before I get bored,” the leader of the pair said. She was pretty in an unremarkable way, with long, brown hair and purple eyes that hinted at good humor and mischief. “Besides, Zakiyah’s on the warpath, and I thought it was better to find you two quickly. Daniel, Jay’mez, this is Arianna, co-pilot of the Omega; Arianna, my brother Jay’mez, and Daniel Anders.”

  “Greetings,” Jay’mez said with a half bow.

  Arianna smiled, “Operator Jay’mez, Agent Daniel.”

  Daniel smiled a little, “Pilot Arianna.” He touched his heart briefly and saw her eyes widen. Arianna was a young woman who might be called pretty, but never beautiful. She had light brown hair that had been streaked with pink and green, amber eyes that were studying him just as thoroughly and a slender body half hidden in a spacer’s shapeless jumpsuit.

  “I wasn’t aware you were from Javor,” Arianna said.

  “I was born there,” Daniel replied, “but I wasn’t raised there. I consider Earth to be my home planet, my family is there.”

  “I see,” Arianna replied with a short nod. She glanced at Jay’mez for a moment, “are all of you coming with us?”

  “Yes,” Jay’mez said firmly.

  “If Bri’tauni and Jay’mez are ready,” Daniel said, “we can go.”

  “Do you have any bags?” Arianna asked.

  Daniel shook his head, “You may have noticed the rather large pile of rubble attached to the building? That used to be residential quarters. If it wasn’t destroyed when the building went down, it’s buried under too much rubble to be quickly retrieved.”

  “I hope nobody was hurt,” Arianna said.

  “No, we were all in the operation center,” Daniel replied. “Let’s go see if there’s a skimmer available.”

  “I brought one from the port,” Arianna replied.

  “Let’s go then,” Daniel said, “I don’t want Zakiyah to take the opportunity to start yelling again.”

 

  Spies Don’t Rescue Burdens

  Her rescue was never planned.

  In the beginning, she was alone. The room was large, if plain, with a discretely placed bathroom and pallets on the floor for sleeping. Jessie curled up on one of the pallets, with a blanket around her and shivered. She had been on Earth, going about her life as a dance student, and ignoring her secret identity as one of Earth’s first superheroes when the attack began. She had been snatched in the fighting, drugged, and taken so far away that she was not sure she was even on the same arm of the galaxy as Earth. She suspected the Vyperans, a specie that looked like a man sized version of that talking lizard on TV, and best known for their genetic talents, wanted her for her unprecedented abilities.

  The door opened with a sudden hiss, sliding into the wall quickly and smoothly, dragging her out of her memories. Jessie shivered and huddled in her blanket, wondering if she would now learn what was to become of her. “Gesuitè do nïr,” Someone, probably male, shouted. A body was shortly propelled into thrown into the room. He straightened and turned back, his reddish brown hair swirling over his shoulder from the speed of his spin. Jessie blinked and closed her eyes for a moment. She could practically feel the device the lizards had stuck in her brain working. “You’ll regret this,” he called through the closing door.

  “I don’t think they care,” Jessie said as she sat up, still in her blanket. She hoped that this device in her brain worked both ways.

  The man turned, and from the way he smiled at her, she thought it just might have worked. “Hi. I know that, the Vyperans as a group are notorious for being cold-blooded reptiles.” He studied her for a long moment, and Jessie shivered as the light glinted off his oval glasses, preventing her from seeing his eyes clearly. “Forgive me,” the man said in a gentler tone, “I’m Lyzander.”

  “Jessie,” Jessie replied as she pushed her dark brown hair out of her face, “are you from Earth?”

  “Earth?” Lyzander repeated, confused, “Oh, that little planet in the Sol System. No, I’m not. I’m an Amaranth.” He settled on a pallet across from her, “My partner and I were trying to infiltrate the ship.” He paused and looked briefly annoyed, “With emphasis on trying.”

  “What happened?” Jessie asked, hugging the blanket around her a little tighter.

  Lyzander shook his head, “Angel got mad at the central mainframe and forgot to keep her voice down. We were, naturally, discovered by the Vyperans who seemed quite put out to discover us hacking their computers. They attacked us and Angel tried to distract them so I could get away, but that didn’t work out so well.” He spread his arms out and shrugged his shoulders.

  Jessie giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth, “Sorry,” she whispered.

  Lyzander grinned, “So you can laugh, that’s a good thing.” He drew his knees up to his chest, “It must have been a shock, though, to learn you aren’t alone in the universe.”

  Jessie shook her head slightly, “That wasn’t the shock,” she told him, leaning forward a little, “my brother’s from Javor.” She paused, “My soul-brother, I believe is the proper designation. Daniel doesn’t like to talk about Before much. His family died in the war.”

  Shifting and drawing the blanket close to her, Jessie glanced up at Lyzander through her lashes. “The part I still don’t entirely understand,” Jessie lied, “was why I was picked out of the crowd in Manhattan. Danny said I didn’t have an aura or anything that would scream I k
new about aliens.”

  Lyzander opened his mouth with a thoughtful look, as if to offer an opinion, but instead screamed. He fell to his knees as Jessie stared at him in shock, but as he curled inward, clutching his temples, Jessie rested her hand on his shoulder. Scrambling she remembered what Tina had told her once, when his abilities had been growing beyond her expectations. Keep calm, her friend whispered in her mind, do not panic. Pick a good memory and let your emotions reflect it.

  Jessie thought of the day her family had become the Anders, a family bonded by struggles and love, but not blood. “Angel,” Lyzander groaned.

  “It’s ok,” Jessie whispered.

  The door slammed open, and two young men fell in the door. Jessie struggled to keep her calm as she got a quick impression of sandy blond hair, and black clothing before Lyzander groaned again. “No,” one of them breathed. “Is he an Empath?”

  Jessie glared at them, “Apparently so. I guess I have you two to thank for this. You’re hurting him.”

  One of the two young men reached out, “I’m sorry,” he said softly as he brushed his fingers through Lyzander’s hair, “is that better?”

  Lyzander opened his eyes and began to carefully sit up, looking at the newcomers with a look of surprise. “Yes,” he said finally, lowering his hands, “thank you. What happened?”

  “We didn’t realize we’d run into an Empath, and our shields were down,” the young man touching Lyzander said as he withdrew his hand.

  “These two idiots tap danced in here,” Jessie told him, struggling to keep her irritation down as she glared at the boys. At least they had the decency to look ashamed when she glared at them.

  Lyzander turned to look over his shoulder, taking in the pair. Jessie took the opportunity, as she steadied him, to study them as well. Tall, she remembered that, built long, and slender, they had hazel eyes and sandy blond hair that seemed at odds with their darker skin tone. They were identical, with the only clear differentiation seeming to be that the one who touched Lyzander wore a black suit with blue ornamentation while his partner wore black and red. “Hi,” blue shirt said a little warily, “I’m Rhonir, also known as Idiot One apparently. This is my brother, Pellam, or Idiot Two.”

  “I am now,” Lyzander replied, “but I must admit, I’m curious, tap dancing?”

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Jessie said.

  Lyzander cleared his throat and shifted so that Jessie’s hand fell off his shoulder, “Yes well, thank you for helping, Jessie. You did exactly what you should have.”

  Jessie smiled, “I used to help Danny when his abilities went haywire. Sometimes he just needed someone calm around to focus on.”

  Rhonir and Pellam glanced at each other and Pellam made a series of hand gestures insistently. Rhonir signed back, Pellam glared at him, and Rhonir stood up. Jessie watched as Rhonir came forward, absently hitching her blanket back up, even though she was sure that all three of them were aware by now that she was naked underneath.

  The ship shuddered and for a moment, Jessie felt weightless before being slammed down again. Rhonir yelped as he fell on top of Lyzander, and Pellam grunted as he was thrown backwards. Jessie straightened her blanket again and watched as Lyzander and Rhonir stared into each other’s eyes. It was almost like watching one of those romantic movies her sister had adored mocking back in the day, and it was a lot like watching teenagers in high school moon over each other. “Hi,” Lyzander said suddenly, with a little smile.

  “Hi back,” Rhonir replied.

  Jessie looked over at Pellam, who looked almost pained at the way they were staring at each other she couldn’t help but wonder why. He looked tired; she thought in surprise, his hazel eyes had a lot of shadows for someone who looked as young as he did.

  To break him out of his staring, Jessie cleared her throat, and then smiled when Pellam looked at her in surprise. She looked from Rhonir and Lyzander to him, “So,” she said, trying to be casual under his disconcerting gaze, “are staring contests an alien thing? Should I start practicing?”

  Pellam shook his head with a little smile.

  “I’m Jessie, Jessica Anders, of Earth.” Jessie offered. “I don’t suppose you know what’s going on here, and would care to explain it?”

  Pellam shrugged a little, “They are bonding,” he offered finally. “I believe you would call them soul mates.”

  “Fascinating,” someone said, and a dark figure dropped lightly through the ceiling.

  Jessie couldn’t help the shriek that came out of her, she scrambled back even as her mind catalogued the intruder. Female, blond hair, blue eyes that seemed off, dressed in a tight, black outfit with dark purple accents. She didn’t look to be much older than any of them, and the look she gave Lyzander as she struck what Jessie could only consider a ‘cheesy hero pose’ was not promising. The woman opened her mouth and hissed at Lyzander.

  Lyzander grinned a little, but winced as the ship shook again. Rhonir rolled off of him as Lyzander hissed right back at her.

  Jessie looked at Rhonir, who shrugged a little, “Amaranths,” he told her, as if guessing her question. “There isn’t an outsider in the universe who can understand the nuances of their language.”

  “Oh,” Jessie said, keeping her tone neutral. She wondered how long she would be able to pretend to be as naïve as most Earthians were. She figured she had maybe another sentence or so before she gave herself away.

  “Pellam’s sorry by the way,” Rhonir added, “he doesn’t talk much at all by nature. Lately, sound’s been one of the few things we could control.”

  “It’s ok,” Jessie replied, “I’m not mad.”

  The woman hissed and gestured to the three of them.

  Lyzander hissed back, tilting his head down a little. Jessie noticed that he didn’t quite catch the woman’s eyes; for all that, he seemed relaxed with her.

  “For those of us who don’t speak Amaranth,” Rhonir said pointedly in the more common language they’d been using, “Who are you?”

  “I am Angel-Raven,” The woman replied haughtily. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes slightly as she studied the three of them. “And who are you?”

  “Rhonir,” Rhonir promptly stated, and then he nodded his head towards Pellam, “that’s my brother, Pellam.”

  Jessie met Angel-Raven’s eyes point blank, daring her to say something. “I’m Jessica Andres of Earth,” she said, remembering Daniel’s patient tutelage on the subject of ‘and if you ever end up off planet’. “Most everybody calls me Jessie though.”

  Jessie looked at Lyzander, who was watching Rhonir with an odd glint in his eye. “Great,” Angel-Raven declared as she rubbed her hands together and braced herself against another hit. “Someone let the Marè Cresto attack, so we need to go. I was able to pick up enough to know that the Omega’s out there and I’ve found a ship.”

  “Who let them out on attack?” Rhonir demanded in outrage as Lyzander shook his head and Pellam rolled his eyes.

  As the ship shook again, Jessie was reminded of her other issue, “I’m not sure I can

  “We’ll just wrap your blanket around you,” Angel-Raven began; a look in her eyes that Jessie thought might be disdain.

  “Not that,” Jessie interrupted her, although she blushed at the acknowledgement of her state of undress, “My leg isn’t working right, I might not be able to keep up.” She shifted her blankets to reveal a leg that was bruised with angry red streaks running across the calf.

  “Does it hurt?” Lyzander asked, starting to step closer. Angel-Raven reached out and caught his arm, holding him back. Jessie saw Rhonir shift at the touch, but didn’t speak.

  Jessie shrugged, “I’ve hurt worse.” She didn’t feel like telling them that it was no worse than when she spent hours training for the ballet recitals, when she had to wrap her feet carefully to keep the blood from showing through her shoes. “The problem is that it doesn’t work right. I’ve tried to stret
ch, but it’s like having a cramp in my calf, and my inner thigh.”

  “Can you crawl?” Angel-Raven asked.

  “Well, yes,” Jessie replied, “It’s not comfortable, or easy, but I can do it.” She’d had to, but there was no need to say that in mixed company.

  “Good, most of our trip is in the life support system, we’ll all be crawling.” Angel-Raven told them all, “We’ll stop to get everyone’s affects and run for the ship bay from there.”

  “I can carry her,” Pellam offered suddenly, looking surprised at his own voice. “It won’t be a problem.”

  Jessie frowned at them, “I don’t want to slow you down.”

  Angel-Raven shook her head, “We don’t leave people behind.” Lyzander gave her an odd look, but Angel-Raven only nodded slightly.

  The ship shook again and Jessie sighed, “All right, but if I’m a liability, don’t think I won’t say that I told you I would be.”

  “If you’re a liability,” Angel-Raven replied and offered her hand Jessie, “I’ll shoot you myself.” Seeing Angel-Raven’s eyes up close, with the bright blue, and the oval pupil much like a cat’s, Jessie couldn’t doubt that Angel-Raven was telling her nothing more than the truth.

  Angel-Raven led them through the maze of barely lit ductwork with few hesitations. Jessie, in the middle of the group, realized in one particularly well lit juncture that there were markings on the wall she couldn’t read. At some of the narrower junctions, when Lyzander and Angel-Raven had to pull her through because of her leg, Jessie wondered why they continued to be devoted to seeing her out. She wasn’t anything other than a stranger and a liability to them, not to mention the fact that all of them probably regarded her as doubly useless seeing as she was Earthian and uneducated in the ways of the universe.

  Still, Jessie was grateful for their help, especially when they finally emerged into a small room on felt like the other side of the ship. Pellam helped Jessie over to a counter she could lean against while Rhonir hovered near Lyzander. While the three of them talked, Jessie amused herself by pushing her leg through some of her most basic dance stretches, wincing every time her muscles protested.

  Finally, Angel-Raven and Lyzander had a quick conversation in Amaranthan before Lyzander gave her a shy smile and left. “What’s going on?” Rhonir asked, moving to stand across the door from Angel-Raven.

  Angel-Raven gave him an odd look, “Lyzander is checking the next stop,” she said. “He’s fine.” She turned, “We have to run down this hallway to the next stop. You two need to decide how you’re going to move. You have a few minutes so talk fast.”

  “Can you walk?” Pellam asked Jessie.

  Jessie shook her head, “I’m sorry, I can barely put weight on my leg. I keep trying to stretch it out, but it’s not working right yet.”

  “Hurry,” Angel-Raven told them quietly as she glanced out the door quickly.

  Pellam waved his hand at Angel-Raven and then scooped Jessie up in his arms before she expected it. Only practice kept her from giving away the pain as his arm settled under her knees.

  “If you two are ready,” Angel-Raven finally called, “you need to go now. It’s to the left, four doors down on the right.” She opened the door and Pellam half ran out the door, Jessie clinging to him, trying to breathe without letting on how much pain she actually felt.

  Their next stop was another empty room where Lyzander waited. He had a gun in his hand and flinched when he saw Jessie. “It hurts,” he said softly.

  “I can handle it,” Jessie gasped as Pellam set her down. She rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment and then hopped over to the wall. “I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

  “When we get out of here,” Lyzander said, “I can take a look at it, I’m a healer.”

  Jessie smiled, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “It’s no problem,” Lyzander told her, then put his finger to his lips.

  The door slid open and Rhonir darted in, Angel-Raven on his heels. “Good,” Angel-Raven said as the ship shook again. It had been doing that periodically since the beginning, but this one was strong enough that Jessie fell to the floor, unable to brace herself, and her battered blanket came loose again.

  “This is almost more trouble than it’s worth,” Jessie muttered as she fought the cloth.

  “We’re almost there,” Angel-Raven told her. Again, the Amaranth woman offered her hand; Jessie gripped it and let herself be tugged to her feet.

  After yet another long crawl through the air ducts, the five arrived at Angel-Raven’s ultimate goal. “The shuttle bay,” Rhonir said, as he slid out of the opened vent.

  “Yes,” Angel-Raven replied, “The shuttle bay. Come on, we’ve got to be careful, the Vyperans should be at battle stations.”

  “But when do things ever go according to plan,” Lyzander murmured as he leaned against the wall beside Angel-Raven. Jessie saw them exchange grins even as Rhonir sidled over to stand on the other side of Lyzander. Lyzander looked up at Rhonir, a soft, goofy look on his face, “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Rhonir murmured.

  “Is that some alien thing?” Jessie whispered as she leaned against Pellam, “They keep saying that to each other.” Pellam gave her another of his long looks as Lyzander and Rhonir looked away from each other. Angel-Raven also gave her an odd look before pulling something out of her pocket and tapping Lyzander on the shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Rhonir said, moving over to stand beside Jessie, “it’s just frustrating that we can’t do this properly.”

  “It’s ok,” Jessie said with a shrug. The look he gave her compelled her to add, “I don’t quite understand what’s going on with you two, but now seems like a really bad time to get distracted.”

  “You’re right,” Rhonir sighed, eyes tracking over to Lyzander. “But we’ll be out of here soon enough.”

  “It looks clear,” Angel-Raven announced suddenly, “our target is the Exihet. It is located in the fourth cradle down the right hand wall.” She turned to regard the three of them for a moment, “Pellam, are you tired?”

  “Not that Jessie’s heavy,” Pellam said after a brief moment of consideration, but he sounded hesitant.

  “I’ll carry her,” Rhonir said quickly, exchanging a look with his brother. “You’re the better shot in a firefight anyways.”

  “Now you tell me,” Angel-Raven muttered softly. “Ok,” she stood up, “I’m taking point, Lyzander you cover Jessie and Rhonir, Pellam takes the rear. We’ll move as a group, so if we get spotted we’ll be in a better position to make a break for the ship.”

  Lyzander nodded and drew the stunner that Angel-Rave had given to him, and adjusted something while Rhonir picked up Jessie. Even as Jessie tried not to gasp in pain as Rhonir jostled her leg, she noticed what looked like jealousy on Lyzander’s face as he watched them out of the corner of his eye.

  “I’m ready,” Rhonir told them quietly as Jessie slung her arm around his neck and tried to look stoic. She probably wasn’t succeeding as well as she wanted to, but she tried anyways. Danny always said that you got points for trying after all.

  “As am I,” Lyzander added as he pointed his weapon at the floor.

  Pellam just nodded as he set his own weapon and pointed it at the floor.

  Angel-Raven checked them over in a quick visual sweep, and then took them out from behind the boxes that had shielded their exit from the air vent. Lyzander started to follow, but Rhonir stepped in front of him to put his back against the wall. Lyzander flushed but took the outer position as they half ran for the first cradle. Jessie noticed this, but had to close her eyes during the run, having her vision shake made her feel uneasy, and she hadn’t been eating well anyways. Her stomach did not need another excuse to empty itself today.

  Silently, they moved from ship to ship to the Exihet, even Jessie, who knew nothing about ships beyond a childhood love of science fiction, could tell that the ship was larger, and more streamline
d than the other spaceships they’d passed. It had the same symbols painted on it as the others, but it was as obvious as leopard spots on a zebra. Lyzander grinned slightly at all of them as Angel-Raven put her hand on the control panel beside the door. She frowned, closing her eyes and leaning into the ship for a long moment. Finally, she opened her eyes and the doors slid open silent. Lysander waved everybody inside with a quick glance around.

  “The Exihet,” Angel-Raven said once she’d sealed the doors, “is a captured Amaranth scout. It’s part of why this ship was chosen for our infiltration.” She turned to look at each of them with an almost haughty, confidently proud expression, “Although, I can hack and pilot a Vyperan shuttle, we figured this would be an easier escape plan.” She moved past them, “There isn’t a real medical bay on the Exihet, Rhonir, Jessie; we’ll have to wait until we reach the Omega to do anything.” They headed up the hallway to the bridge.

  “May I ask a stupid question?” Jessie asked as they were getting settled on the bridge.

  Rhonir, who was helping her get her harness fastened, gave her an odd look, “Go ahead.”

  “Angel-Raven said this ship used to be Amaranthan, but was captured by the Vyperans,” Jessie said looking around Rhonir to where Angel-Raven and Lyzander were settling in at the pilot controls. “How are the people out there going to know it’s not in the hands of the Vyperans still?”

  Angel-Raven snorted, and glanced back at Jessie, “First of all, Jessie, you can call me Angel. I only use Angel-Raven when I’m being formal, or I don’t like someone. Second, when we accepted our mission, we were given specific recordings in Marè Cresto that we’ll broadcast as soon as we get out of the shuttle bay. They’ll let the Omega know that we’re friendly.”

  Rhonir made an odd face as he stepped away from Jessie and watched as Lyzander pulled a device from his bag. “Was Lyzander carrying them?”

  Lyzander and Angel-Raven looked at each other and Angel-Raven nodded slowly. “Geveto,” Lyzander muttered and began to push buttons on the device.

  Angel-Raven slumped back in her seat a brief moment, hissing something that made Lyzander chuckle. She rubbed her face, and then sat up, “We’ll be fine,” she said firmly.

  Lyzander nodded and showed Rhonir the screen, “I don’t think they were able to get started on my things. Angel was quick to get us out of there.”

  “Right,” Angel-Raven said. She flipped open a part of the under console and pulled out two sets of gloves and a set of glasses. “Let’s finish this.”

  The pair pulled the gloves on and Angel-Raven settled the glasses into place. They fiddled with their glasses and nodded before moving their fingers above the consoles in front of them. Jessie looked at Pellam, seated at one of the consoles and he rolled his eyes, as if he were reading the question on her face.

  “They’re using three dimensional holographics to handle the ship,” Rhonir said from his seat closer to Lyzander. “That’s why they chose this scout ship. The Amaranth ships tend to use the holographic controls as primary with standard controls as a distant second. The catch is that you have to have specific mental abilities to use the holographics, abilities that, while not limited to the Amaranth people, are trained to a very high degree of finesse.”

  “Millarson,” Angel-Raven said suddenly. “This ship is a Millarson built ship, not just any Amaranth built it. This is the kind of ship one of my people would sell their first born to be able to afford.” She turned to Rhonir, “Can you handle lasers, or do you want me and Lyzander to do it? We’re going to be in the middle of a group of enemy fighters out there, and as soon as we start broadcasting, they’re going to know.”

  “I’ve got this,” Rhonir told her confidently, running a hand over his control board and making it light up. A pair of joysticks slid out of his chair and Rhonir gripped them easily.

  “Pellam,” Angel-Raven continued, “keep an eye on shields and engines. I’m kicking control back, so sing out if you notice something. Jessie, if you could just not touch anything, I don’t have time to give you a lesson.”

  “Not a problem,” Jessie replied, lifting her hands slightly, “I’ll just try not to scream.”

  Angel-Raven laughed a little before Lyzander cleared his throat, “The datapad’s fine,” he announced, “Like I said, I don’t think they had a chance to really go over my belongings, much less damage anything. You pulled us out fast and the attack slowed them down.”

  “You have navigation,” Angel-Raven told him, “and communications. Get those doors open.”

  “How long do I have?” Lyzander asked as he tapped his glasses and flexed his fingers a few times before he popped his knuckles.

  “Engines,” Angel-Raven said over her shoulder to Pellam.

  “Third cycle,” Pellam said in a louder voice than he usually favored, “All green.”

  “You have five,” Angel-Raven told him.

  “I’m only going to need two,” Lyzander muttered as his fingers flew through the air.

  Jessie gasped as the ship lurched, “Faster,” Angel-Raven said grimly, “where are the shields?”

  “Up now,” Pellam replied.

  “I’ve got no range,” Rhonir added as he pressed something on his board, “Not unless you want me to fire the ship from the inside.”

  “No,” Angel-Raven said without a moment of hesitation. “There may be other prisoners on board. We can’t risk destroying the ship if there are, not without orders.”

  “Doors open,” Lyzander announced triumphantly.

  Prepare the Defenses

  As war draws near, so do the defenders.