Chains of Redemption

by Selina Rosen

  "Yes, really," Poley answered. "I think perhaps you should drink some water now."

  "Oh, all right," Alan said, thinking that Poley could be a horrible killjoy at times. RJ was in the corner of the bar playing some game with bottle caps. She was laughing and seemed to be having a good time, and Alan said as much to Poley as he pushed a glass of water into Alan's hand.

  "She's gathering information," Poley explained glancing over his shoulder at his sister.

  "I think she's just having a good time," Alan argued.

  "That would be nice."

  She was winning at bottle caps, but then the only one who'd ever beaten her at the archaic barroom game was Poley. As she played, she pumped the patrons of the bar for information that they gladly gave her.

  It took only a little effort to get them to tell her everything she needed to know without actually asking direct questions. After all, they all believed she knew. Many of these men and women had fought in campaigns against the Reliance, and they were more than happy to tell battle story after gory battle story—she just filled in the gaps.

  By the time she had won thirty-two successive games of bottle caps, and before Alan had quite sobered up from his first experience with fermented grain, she knew more than she needed to. She gathered up Poley and Alan and headed back to the Avonlea.

  By all accounts Jessica Kirk had defeated the Reliance. This made RJ's return completely unnecessary and therefore very anti-climactic. This being the case, a more rational being would have programmed the ship for a different destination. RJ wasn't feeling very rational. There was no place for her here now, and for that and so many other things, Kirk was going to pay.

  RJ had been more or less sure the moment she smelled the full strength whiskey in her glass, and saw the sign over the bar that offered prostitutes of every sex and type at reasonable prices, that the Reliance had been totally and completely beaten. Everything she had learned after that just confirmed what she already knew.

  While she'd been stuck on Frionia experiencing the living death of just existing, Kirk had been living RJ's, life with her friends, on her planet, carrying out her crusade. Worse yet, RJ got the impression that Kirk had actually managed to achieve a quicker, less painful, more complete exchange of power than she would have pulled off in the same time frame, and that did nothing but feed her growing need for revenge.

  If you were going to take over my life and my quest, the least you could have done was to fail miserably at it, RJ thought as she sat at the pilot's console of the ship.

  "RJ, are you sure you don't want me to do that?" Poley asked as he buckled Alan—who was still drunk—into his seat.

  "I think it's high time I take back control of my destiny, Tin Pants. Don't you?" She started powering up the ship.

  "I think we should wait till Alan is sober before we take off, and I think I should pilot the ship since you've never actually done it before."

  "Alan's about to learn a valuable lesson in temperance, and just because I've never done something doesn't mean I don't know how or that I shouldn't," RJ informed him.

  He nodded and handed a bag to Alan.

  "What's this for?" Alan asked with a giggle.

  "You'll figure it out," Poley said. He took his seat and strapped himself in.

  Alan watched as RJ lined the ship up with the jumpgate and thought how pretty and light it was. Then the ship lurched forward at a high rate of speed, and it felt like they were slingshot through an ass hole backwards.

  Alan felt like he was going to puke and remembered the bag. He brought it up to his lips and felt the beer and half eaten pretzels forced out of his stomach, through his throat, and into the bag. The pretzels scratched his throat as they came up, and he was sure he was going to die.

  The ship seemed to stabilize till it felt more like what he was used to, but he just kept throwing up into the bag until he feared it was going to get overfull and burst.

  He heard belts being unclicked, and then Poley was at his side, unbuckling him and holding the bag for him. Poley patted his back in a comforting way.

  RJ was laughing, and he knew she was laughing at him. "You going to be all right, sport?"

  Alan had finished throwing up, he hoped. He pushed the bag, which now disgusted him, away from him and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I'm going to kill you," he hissed.

  RJ laughed even louder. "Yeah, he's gonna be fine." She left the bridge.

  Alan looked at Poley. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault. Come on, let's go get you cleaned up." Poley helped him get up and took him to the showers.

  The water felt good running over his body, and he started to feel like he just might live. He knew Poley had gone to dispose of his bag-o-vomit. He let the water run into and out of his mouth for a good five minutes, and still couldn't get the horrid taste out. He finally gave up and turned off the water. Poley handed him a towel.

  "She knew I would get sick, didn't she?" Alan asked.

  "Yes."

  "Why . . ."

  "Did she take off anyway?"

  Alan nodded.

  "Because she's on a mission. She won't stop till she accomplishes what she's got it in her mind to do."

  "And what does she want to do?"

  "Kill our sister."

  Two weeks later they popped out of hyperspace and the moon base started talking to her, telling her where, when, and how to tether her ship.

  She just smiled and hurled her ship towards the surface of the planet.

  "RJ . . . what are you doing now?" Poley asked calmly.

  "What does it look like I'm doing?" RJ asked.

  "Fixing to ram Earth with the Avonlea," Poley said with all the excitement he could muster.

  "Oh . . . maybe I should slow down then. Thrusters?"

  "That would be recommended," Poley answered.

  "I'm just so excited. You know, about being home, seeing the old stomping grounds, ripping the metal heart out of the chest of a close family member."

  She saw Alan look at Poley in panic, and heard Poley answer, "She doesn't mean me."

  "Chill, Alan," RJ laughed. "You're just along for the ride. You guys can go do a little sight-seeing while I take care of business."

  "RJ . . . J-6 has only done what you started. She has brought the New Alliance to power, gotten rid of the Reliance. Maybe she has changed, and . . ."

  "I'm still going to kill her. Don't try to reason with me, Poley. Remember that she's the one that had that thing built. You remember, the thing that killed Whitey and Sandra, ripped my heart out of my chest and left me for dead, and cut your head off? She's the one who had Alsterase hit with cluster bombs." RJ's voice shook as she continued. "I don't care what she has done. I only care what she did. Kirk is all about power, having it, keeping it, using it. She changed sides only because she couldn't stay in the Reliance after she'd killed Jago. Don't you see? She's all about being Queen of everything, and she has used my life to do it. She's in charge of it all now. Don't you get it? She's taken over everything by pretending to be me."

  "But the people seem happy. They're free, isn't that what you wanted?" Poley asked.

  "How long before she starts demanding things? Before we find out that those GSH's she's put in power are programmed to carry out her bidding, and only her bidding? Don't you see, if I don't kill her, where the hell am I going to go?"

  Poley was silent, and she knew this was because—knowing her—he now knew that there was no sense in arguing with her, that her mind had been made up.

  And it was.

  The ship had landed on the surface of the planet with a lurch that made Alan feel like his ass should be about where his shoulders were. In spite of that, he smiled. They were finally on solid ground. He unbuckled himself when he saw both Poley and RJ do it.

  "She knows you're here, and where you landed. She has Marge," Poley informed his sister.

  "So . . . What's your point?" RJ asked.

  "RJ," his voice dragged, then sounded alm
ost mechanical. "She will have the upper hand."

  RJ slung a dismissive hand in the air and left the room. Poley followed her, so Alan did, too.

  "You may not kill her, RJ. She may kill you," Poley said.

  "I had thought of that," RJ said, never stopping her forward movement.

  "I don't want you to die. I need you," Poley explained.

  RJ stopped then, turned around and hugged her brother, and kissed him on the cheek. She looked at Alan. "You'll take care of him, won't you?" She let go of Poley, hugged Alan, and then started walking again. They followed.

  Alan suddenly found a huge lump in his throat. "Why do this, RJ? We could go somewhere, anywhere else, together," Alan begged. He didn't really understand why she found it necessary to be here, or to kill her sister. He really thought they'd all land on some new world and live happily ever after. "We can just go somewhere else. Poley says there are lots of nice worlds . . ."

  She didn't stop or turn to face them, she just screamed, "I can't go anywhere or do anything until I take care of my past!" She threw her hands up in a dramatic fashion. "Don't you get it? She took my life. I have to get it back."

  "You don't even know for certain that she's there," Poley said.

  "Oh, yes. Yes I do. Because if I was her, that's where I'd be. And, yes, I know that this is a very small advantage, because she will also know what I'm doing right now," RJ said. She walked into the loading bay, walked around the metal Ocupod suit and smiled. "However, I think I've got at least one really good surprise for her."

  "The ship has landed twenty miles from here," Marge said.

  "Yes," Jessica said simply.

  "RJ . . . I mean, Jessica, why not send a squadron of planes and some ground troops to take her out?" Dax asked.

  "Because she'd only kill them, and they wouldn't be able to stop her. At least Poley is with her. Her ship will be prepared to lay down covering fire if she needs it," Jessica answered. "Too many people have already died in our struggle. I think maybe we should keep our fight between the two of us and keep the body count down."

  She looked at the monitor in front of her and saw it reflected on the GPS even as Marge chimed, "A mechanical device has left her ship, I detect weapons and a force field."

  "See what I mean?" Jessica said to Dax. He just stared at her in stunned silence. "Marge, can you get me a visual?"

  In seconds Jessica was looking at a blurry picture of the little toy her sister had brought with her.

  "What the hell is that?" Dax asked.

  "A big, ugly killing machine." Jessica took in a deep breath and let it out. "A can I'm going to have to open. What sorts of weapons does she have?" Jessica asked the computer.

  "Plasma cannons, two forward and two aft lasers. That's all that I can detect at this time."

  "Marge, does the machine have a communications unit? Can you make contact?"

  "A connection has been opened."

  "RJ, do we really have to play this out?" Jessica asked.

  There was a laugh, and she saw Dax cringe, no doubt because it sounded just like her.

  "Now that's a fucking riot coming from you," RJ's voice came back. "You, the woman who epitomizes 'playing it out'."

  "Well, you've got me there," Jessica said with a calm she didn't really feel. "I don't suppose it will help to explain to you that I know I was wrong. That I'm sorry and I've changed."

  "Let's see," RJ's voice came back, there was a pause and then, "No! You see I've changed too, but not for the better, and all because of you. I couldn't stay here. I had to leave because I couldn't stand looking at what you had destroyed anymore."

  "I'm not going to let you just march in and kill me."

  "I wouldn't want you to, that wouldn't be any fun."

  The transmission ended. Jessica could hear the click as the connection was severed.

  "Marge, reconnect with her craft."

  "I am working at connecting . . . She's gone."

  Marge didn't have to explain what she meant. The image had left the screen as the machine went into the water. "Damn! It's a submersible," Jessica breathed. "Find it, find the damn thing!"

  A blinking light appeared on the screen, but that was the best visual they could get. A few seconds later even that was gone.

  "She's scrambling our signal," Marge informed.

  "I can see that. Keep trying to make an audio connection to her craft."

  "I have no information on the location of the craft . . ."

  "I know that, Marge, but she has to come up sometime. Be looking for her, and try to make an audio connection as soon as she surfaces."

  "Understood."

  Jessica moved to the weapons console. She wondered how dexterous the machine was. She guessed that it could climb over and around or go through almost anything. All right, if that's the case, where is she most likely to surface?

  It was a good question. RJ knew the area and the fort, but she would also know that in the decades that she'd been gone much would have changed. She wouldn't expect everything to be in exactly the same place that it was when she had left. So I'm not one damn bit closer to knowing where she might surface. I have no idea how fast that contraption moves, especially under water, or how much oxygen she actually has. Is it capable of making its own oxygen, or does she have a limited amount on board with her? If that's the case she'll surface quickly. If not, she might stay under days, even weeks . . . No, she's ready for this to come to an end, and she doesn't care how it ends as long as it does.

  This being the case, she wasn't too surprised when the strange vehicle surfaced only a few minutes later, not far from the docks. A little more surprising was that it immediately fired on the fort and did damage.

  "Damage to sector seven, second floor," Marge droned.

  "That's a really strong plasma cannon," Jessica said almost to herself. She took careful aim and fired on the metal spider. It lurched but didn't fall or even seem to take any real damage, and it seemed to simply dance around the lasers firing from the perimeter defense grid.

  "I've made contact," Marge announced.

  RJ circled the island at a distance before deciding to take the path of least resistance and surface right next to the dock. She immediately fired her plasma cannon at the second story, mostly to test what Kirk would do next.

  Not too surprisingly she found herself fired on, and while she had easily stepped around and over the laser security grid, she couldn't continue to do that and successfully dodge incoming fire. It rocked the vehicle, but didn't break through her force field.

  Poor Ocupod bastard, if he'd had forcefield technology she might not be wearing his skin right now.

  RJ fired on the fort again.

  Then Jessica was talking over her comlink. "RJ, you are going to damage the computer with your attack. The entire system depends on Marge . . ."

  "And you figured I wouldn't risk damaging the computer and shutting down the New Alliance, so you decided to hole up here, but there's one thing you didn't consider. I don't give a good damn about this New Alliance. I don't know any of these people, and I don't care about them. Why should I? None of them give a good damn about me." She fired her plasma cannon again, and this time she knocked out the laser defense grid. It seemed that some things had stayed the same. She moved quickly and then stuck a metal tentacle through the front doors and ripped them off. Then, just for good measure, she stuck another one through a section of concrete wall. "I'll tear this thing down a brick at a time if I have to."

  Jessica fired a full blast of plasma bolts into the vehicle and it stumbled backwards and fell, only to get right up again. Jessica took her hands off the console and jumped to her feet.

  "All right, RJ."

  "What the hell are you doing?" Dax asked, jumping into the seat of the weapons console. He started to fire.

  "No." Jessica grabbed his hand. "All right, RJ, let's keep this between you and me."

  "I thought we were," RJ's voice chimed back.

  "I've got peop
le here with me, and the computer. Eventually we will break through the force field on your machine, but in the meantime the fort will take much damage, and what's the point? Surely you and I could put our toys aside. We could meet and settle this the way it should be settled."

  "Where would we meet?"

  "I think you know where," Jessica answered.

  "How do I know that you or your people won't fire on me as soon as I leave my vehicle?"