by DC Bastien
"Two," Loap said. "Two Ardeshir ships."
"Okay. And we're not on there because...?"
"Because you wanted to be here in case they got attacked on the way to the Whale line," Saidhe replied. "And if we sped towards the same Whale, it would alert the Ur – and others – to our presence."
"And if we kept up by burning fuel, we'd be even more obvious," Biann added.
"Can you all stop being reasonable and instead understand how I don't want the truth and I want some kind of magical other reason?" he said, pouting excessively.
"I have calculated where you can push the ship to, in order to meet the Whale's migratory path before Venoria. We have sufficient fuel to make this. Allow me to project..." Mes said.
Over the screen a second image overlaid, a faint green line tracing the Whale's path. A second line, red, showed where the next slow point would come.
"Okay, Mes. Punch it. Let's jump ahead of them. Might be folks there, too."
"We have Ardeshir in the vicinity," Loap reassured him. "Now we know which Whale, we will be able to flank all possible routes."
"Enough talking, more... doing."
***
"Captain..."
"No. No. That's a bad sound. You don't say my rank like that. No."
Saidhe cringed. "I'm sorry. I'm getting... I'm getting a report from the Ardeshir moored to the Whale."
"What? Sparkle, if you don't damn well—"
"There's another Whale. It's... it's moving at breakneck speed."
"I thought we made sure that – augh! Why did no one think of this when we plotted out every single possibility?" Kip stood up, kicking at the console nearest him. "What are the Ardeshir saying?"
"That... that it's on a collision course. And it's covered in ships. All unregistered ships. A lot of them. There's... they've opened fire. There's... there's too many of them. They're swarmed. They were anticipated." Saidhe's voice got thinner and thinner with each word.
"Tell me we have more ships in the vicinity? Somebody tell me we have more ships?" Vadim could feel his heart in his throat, his hands so hot they felt like they were holding onto wet supernova. He grabbed at his hair, tugging hard. "They're goddamn Ardeshir. Aren't they supposed to out-ninja everything?"
"Not... not when there's thirty ships," Kre said, her paws sliding over panels to read information. "And there's two of them."
"Thirty? We have thirty!"
"We do, but not all in one place." Loap sounded distraught, too. "We were covering possible routes. We didn't expect them to..."
"Okay. Enough with what we didn't do. What can we do? Somebody tell me how fast we can catch up to them. Somebody also tell me we have an ability to track them. And also that we didn't just wipe out a huge contingent of Sianar special forces by sheer stupidity?"
"Half an hour," Mes replied. "I am communicating with all our colleagues. We will endeavour to track them."
"No, not endeavour. Do."
***
[Ashroe: So. Do you have... do you have a certain muse, then?]
[Sianor: You know I do.]
[Ashroe: And I'm guessing Kip!Muse is very unhappy about this?]
[Sianor: That would be an understatement.]
[Ashroe: Is it going to be a problem?]
[Sianor: Yes and no? I mean, I'll be able to write it. Will Kip hate me? Definitely.]
[Sianor: Won't stop me. Just because something's painful, it doesn't mean we should avoid it.]
[Ashroe: I just wanted to check. I know how muses get.]
[Sianor: Kip wants it on record he officially hates us both and can't believe we're fucking him over like this.]
[Ashroe: Ithon also echoes that and says he has it worse.]
[Sianor: Kip says say that to his face.]
[Ashroe: Well, if he wasn't abducted by baddies then he so would.]
[Sianor: Okay, well, we kind of deserved that.]
[Ashroe: However... tomorrow? It's kind of late and I know it's going to need a lot of time.]
[Sianor: Tomorrow is good for me.]
[Ashroe: You still sure you want this thing?]
[Sianor: Anything that makes us both scream at the thought has to happen, no?]
[Ashroe: Truer words were never spoken.]
***
The first they knew that something was wrong was when the whole ship rocked. That meant one of three things: the ship had unmoored somehow, or they'd been hit, or the Whale had. At least, those were the three things Ithon suspected could have happened. Or a combination of them.
His escorts put on a brave face about it, their jaws setting as they quite obviously listened to the very, very low sound in their earpieces. Ithon strained his hearing trying to get the status report, but there was no way he was working it out.
No windows, of course. No viewscreen. He saw how they subtly turned their assault rifles in his general direction just slightly. Even if he wasn't part of this escape attempt, there was no reason for them to believe that. In their position, he'd be damn well tempted to stun himself.
There was another bump, and now there was noise. They were in a vacuum, so any noise had to be contact with their craft, or something the craft was attached to, or something inside the ship. None of these were good. If he was lucky, there'd be a fight out front and he'd just get to hear all about it afterwards. Kip would crow about how awesome his plan was, and then they'd all go for drinks and Baudeline would somehow magically be arrested and he'd not have a nervous breakdown and existential crisis over losing his vocation to an ex-boyfriend.
Yep. Pipe dreams. He was good at those.
When all four escorts got up and made a line between himself and the main exit, guns all pointed forwards, he realised his fiction was decreasing in likelihood by the moment.
"Could you at least tell me what's going on?" he asked.
They acted like they didn't hear him. They we all wearing top-of-the-range armoured clothing, but they really weren't prepared for what was on the other side of the door.
***
[Ashroe: Oh look, oblique action.]
[Sianor: Shh. I thought you'd approve of that method.]
[Ashroe: I do!]
[Sianor: And now we have to... we...]
[Ashroe: We can't put it off any longer.]
[Sianor: And... okay. OKAY. Fine.]
[Ashroe: This is when you tell me you're ready to stay up all night.]
[Ashroe: On account of weekend. And my mighty need to hurt Ith.]
[Sianor: Who needs sleep? Weak people. Weak people sleep.]
[Ashroe: Did you finish the drawing of the room?]
[Sianor: Oh, yes! Would help wouldn't it, considering I've been wittering on about it for weeks. Can't expect you to describe it if you don’t know.]
[Ashroe: Oh. OH.]
[Sianor: You like?]
[Ashroe: I want to live there. Crime pays.]
[Sianor: Yeah, it really does.]
[Ashroe: Alright. I'm going to do my little word-painting. Wish me luck. And obviously edit anything I do wrong, okay?]
[Sianor: You can do it!]
***
Drugged. Probably. Would explain the weird feeling in his head. The way everything went... slow. And sort of... fuzzy. Foggy. Fuggy. Fozzy. Something. His eyes blinked, but he couldn't tell if it was dark, or if they didn't work. He tried to find his arms and legs, but he wasn't sure if they were gone or if he just couldn't feel them.
If they were gone, wouldn't it hurt? Or was that why there were drugs in his system? That would make an amount of sense. He couldn't remember why he wouldn't have arms or legs, though. Maybe the same reason he couldn't see.
Was he dead?
If he was dead, would he know? Was this the last few minutes before he expired? Or had he passed over to the other side, only to find that – because he'd not been religious, or not had his body duly handled – he was stuck in some forever-limbo? Was he a ghost? Or just a whisper of a thought?
He blinked again and there might have been some lig
ht that time. Possibly. Maybe. And the potential feeling of fuzziness shifting and something lower – stomach? Maybe stomach. A sensation of some movement and he was vaguely aware that he was possibly being dragged. He tried to think move at his legs, and then there was a noise that sounded unhappy, maybe. So he tried some more, wanting to make the noise be happy. Instead he felt like he was being hoisted up higher, and then his head lolled to one side and yes, he still had an arm. He felt the shoulder of it, at least. Pressed against his cheek. And legs. Likely had legs. Tongue? Something fat and unwieldy in the location that he thought his face was. Probably a tongue.
There was also sound. Or something like sound. Voices, possibly, and then he could feel there were arms under his armpits. His feet were wheeling pointlessly, occasionally banging into the legs of the people carrying him. Things turned into blurry images, which meant he was coming around. The cuffs on ankles and wrists were still there. Great.
Ithon had mostly come to his senses, despite being pretty much immobilised, by the time they shoved him face-first into the wall. His hands came up to grasp pointlessly at the smooth, cold surface and give him something to lean his head on. He was distantly aware of the sound of ripping fabric and cooler air on his skin. The jumpsuit was stripped from him, followed by shoes, socks, boxers. He didn't have the energy to be indignant, just doing his best to hold upright. Things beeped around him, hands poked and prodded. Bugs. Probably looking for bugs. Or concealed weapons. Ithon really hadn't shoved any into places they were not designed for, but he doubted telling them that would help.
A sudden torrent of warm, slightly soapy water had him yelping, sputtering at the spray in his mouth. He was scrubbed down from head to toe and no amount of batting ineffectually stopped that. Eventually he had no choice but to submit and hope for the best. The water turned off and hot air was blown all over him, then the rough-softness of a towel and then the hands went away.
Ithon shuddered. He wasn't too cold, but he was feeling exposed. Hands cupping his junk, he turned. The lovely captors nodded at a table of clothes... no mint green now. Now there was a loose tunic-style shirt, stretchy, semi-smart pants and the other things necessary to dress. He glared at them, but they didn't seem bothered by his nudity. Sighing, he wobbled over and pulled himself half-decent. The clothes did fit, which was a blessing. He ran fingers through his rapidly-drying hair and glared at the kidnappers.
"Happy, now?" His voice was scratchy with lack of use and whatever it was he'd inhaled. It was 'good' stuff. It had knocked him really far out, and he hadn't recognised the scent. He had those dumb chains on again, though. "Any chance you're going to take these off me?"
They'd been told not to speak, of course. So they gestured for him to step forwards, and he glared.
"Move," one said.
"Why? Why should I? You've gone to this much effort to bring me here reasonably safely. You've checked I'm clean of bugs and weapons. You've washed me... you're not going to shoot me."
"Not to kill."
"And I'm supposed to feel threatened by that?"
The man who spoke narrowed his eyes. "We can sedate you again, if we need to. If you're not willing to walk."
Ah, yeah. To be fair, he considered that. If people (read: Kip) were coming to save him, would he be better stalling for time as much as possible? Or should he find out all he could by remaining conscious for as long as possible? He didn't know for certain, and that was frustrating.
Not one to like surrendering control, he decided he'd rather know what was going on.
"Fine. But I want to know who has me, and what they want. I know both of you are just grunts, but you can relay that to someone who matters." He walked to the door they'd gestured at, waiting for them to open it. He considered making a grab for one of the guns, but as he was all alone, it might... not be wise. No killing still allowed for plenty of pain, after all.
***
Chapter Twenty-Three – Mission: Embarkation
"Cap'n, I have... I have Eru and Toan on the line. Shall I put them both up on the main screen?" Loap asked.
"Sure. Why not. Let's have a party."
The screen flickered and both faces – one on either side – appeared.
"Hey, guys," the Captain drawled. "Guess you heard the news."
"That is why I am calling," Eru said, stuffily. "How do we propose to handle this situation?"
"What part of it?"
"The part where the Ur are now going to find unregistered Sianar ships in the proximity of a prisoner abduction?"
"That's not really my m—" Kip paused. Okay. "Don't you have contingency plans for this? I mean, they must get... there must have been planning in case they were found out?"
"Normally they are not 'found out'," Eru huffed. "But Baudeline's superior numbers... there are ships we cannot hope to recover every trace of. Even if the Ur's black box were recovered by a third party, they broadcast. The other ships on the Whale would be known to the Ur."
"Don't you have... diplomatic... thingy? Plates?"
"Not to cover a group which no longer exists."
Toan cleared her throat. "If I may? Eru, the ships were already aboard the Whale. You can deny there was any intention to interfere with the Ur vessel. The attack could have been on either target. It does not necessarily imply that your people were there extra-legally."
"No, but they will investigate..."
"And find out that you have diplomatic ships. You could say they were coming to Draqqi from wherever they'd been. That they were due to meet with a delegation of Roq. We would gladly corroborate this story."
"Can we also discuss how Baudeline had enough inside information to track down the vessel, then use a Whale?" Kre asked. "I thought we had seen the last of that tactic."
"...technically speaking, I bet the contract don't actually forbid other folks from using the Whales like that. Which maybe it should have, though I'm sure Baudeline wouldn't give a crap," Kip mumbled.
"It was sheer numbers," Eru growled, her voice showing uncontrolled anger-tones. Her fur stood up in very obvious fury. "And I will say no more on the matter."
Which was likely good, as Kip felt guilty for spreading the ships so thinly. But if there'd been more, would there just have been more deaths? All to save one man. Well. Nominally to 'capture' another. But still.
"Eru, would you like me to release a statement to Ur and to Nessin?" Toan offered.
"...yes. Thank you."
"And what about the quarry, and the Enforcer?" Toan asked. "Do we have a location?"
"Nope. They wiped out so many folks as we lost everything. Then they got back on their crazy Whale, so..." Kip was still not happy about that. Biann had been right, after all. "We're scouring every network we can."
"Nessin may help," Biann said. "Might be better placed, what with her infrastructure."
"Get her onboard, too. Promise her interviews, exclusives, whatever. I'm... I'm..."
"We should go," Toan said, diplomatically. "Captain. Za." The Roq contingent hung up, and the Sianar did, soon after.
***
from: Kay
to: Mandy Douglas
date: 4 July 2015 06:55
subject: TODAY
Today is the day. I am here, in the airport. I'm not sure I'm actually awake or not. I mean if. See, tired. I have a lot of coffee in front of me. It's good coffee. The foamy bubbly bits are all rainbow coloured and I think I slept about ten minutes at a stretch last night, then woke up lots. And lots.
The wifi here is okay, so I'm going to fire up my laptop. I can't really do much useful so I am going to put the edited chapters into the archive as drafts so we can just hit go whenever we want to. We have enough chapters to last us one every four days if we write nothing between now and the end of the holiday. We will still write, I'm sure.
I'm so excited. I feel like a kid again. I'm sitting here with soggy bacon in soggier bread and coffee that likely has half my weekly allowa
nce of calories because of all the chocolate powder in it too and I'm bouncing up and down beside my carry-on luggage and I just wish you were here for me to squeak at because I look like some weirdo all on my own.
I'm so so so so excited.
I love you.
Wake the hell up.
Sent from my comms-device.
----------------
from: Kay
to: Mandy Douglas
date: 4 July 2015 07:46
subject: WAKE UP
?? IMG-20150704-03116 5.45 MB
So here is a selfie I took. Of me. In the airport. And the sun making me squint. And the terrible 'I'm going somewhere hot' clothes I am currently freezing my ass off in.
And I just realised you will be on a plane when I am. I mean, I knew in theory, just not in practice. We planned it like that, so we get to the airport together. Why am I telling you that? You know.
