A couple of minutes later, a small door opened. Pegasus recognized the squarish head, rusty-blue face, and big stocky body of Commander Vegu-Aniel Odinero, one of the most deadly Silver Storms she knew.
He trotted over to Pegasus, signaling her to wind-down. He stopped at her door and saluted. Somewhat surprised, she saluted back.
“Peg, happy to see you again,” he said with a genuine smile.
“Me too, Aniel,” she replied, as she emerged from the cabin.
She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a long hug and a brief kiss on the lips. Both were nomadic — one, an assassin by trade who also by rank was a commander for any number of different SAS and Valkyrie operations; the other a specialist insertion and retrieval pilot for SAS teams and any other pilot needs for Edentia’s Valkyrie Intelligence Services.
Another door opened and General Kshiel Ellis entered. By her radiant green color and her tall slender frame, Pegasus knew it had been these two arguing in the control booth. Pegasus knew of General Ellis only because she was the head of the Jerusem branch of Satania’s Valkyrie engineering teams.
“Lieutenant Colonel Pasiel Pegasus,” Aniel began as Ellis joined them. “Please allow me to introduce Lieutenant General Kshiel Ellis.”
General Ellis, not giving Pegasus a chance to salute, offered her hand to shake.
“Yes, Ma’am. Of course,” Pegasus said politely to a very serious, much older officer. Pegasus scanned her ribbons, pleasantly surprised to see she had been promoted to commander. This meant she was now Satania’s top engineer. “I knew you were head of Jerusem’s design engineering team, but I wasn’t certain if you were still here. And now I see you’re JV3’s Commanding General.”
“Lucky me,” General Ellis said with a tired smile. “Peg, there’s nothing in writing about any of this.” Pegasus felt flattered that an officer such as Kshiel Ellis called her by her nickname.
“You’ll just have to believe me or not believe me when I tell you I have my orders directly from Machiventa. I know Ka probably shared his letter with you. My team and I were ordered to make several quick modifications to your craft. Machiventa also told me to lie to you and tell you that the primary purpose of the modifications were so the Lanonandek would have more stability in the lower waters.”
The ancient engineer smiled slightly. Pegasus liked how candid she was.
“I can’t say anything about your mission. Frankly, I have no idea what’s going on here. Suffice it to say, Mac was in a particularly aggravated mood, so if I were you, I wouldn’t bother him right now unless you feel you have to. All I can say is that I was told to ask for the keys.” Kshiel Ellis paused.
“Peg, I know how this must feel to an experienced test pilot like yourself, but I can’t even tell you what modifications we’re going to make. I was told to put together five separate teams to work in complete isolation from each other. Only Aniel and I have authorization to know what all the teams are supposed to accomplish. Only Aniel knows why we’re doing this in the first place.”
Pegasus did not like the way this sounded. In the final stages of prepping a complex machine like a Lanonandek transport, all teams needed to work as a seamless unit if they were to properly tune the craft to be stable in highly diverse types of Celestial Waters. To do otherwise was to invite disaster.
“Peg, you have the right to refuse this mission. But you do not have the authority to stop my work,” General Ellis continued after allowing Pegasus time to digest what this meant in terms of exponentially increasing risk.
And then for the first time, Pegasus noticed that both Ellis and Aniel were in their dress blue uniforms. They’re probably dressed up because of the dignitaries. Ellis’ eyes shifted and she shook her head. The message to Pegasus was clear. ‘No. We’re dressed this way for you.’
“Peg, I have an open line to Mac,” Aniel said. “But I doubt he’ll tell you anything beyond what I’m about to tell you in a few minutes. We have one of our own standing by who will take the mission if you suddenly get smart enough to refuse. Still, I know Mac and Ka asked for you personally. No one else has your skills when it comes to flying the Lanonandeks in Satania’s waters.”
Pegasus understood perfectly why she had been selected as pilot. It was not bravado. It was the truth. No one knew the flight characteristics of this particular craft better than she. No one knew the many different paths between Jerusem and Eden better than Pegasus. Still, why did they want to transport dignitaries in a prototype when there were plenty of older, more reliable Lanonandeks available?
She had no trouble telling Ka to count her out. However, to receive a personal message from Machiventa Melchizedek on Salvington letterhead was a different matter.
She took a deep breath. A twisted smile spread across her long narrow face as she reached into the inner pocket of her flight jacket. She held up the keys, stared into General Ellis’ deep green eyes, and then dropped the keys into her open palm.
Ellis smiled knowingly, gesturing with an all-but-imperceptible nod to the control booth behind her, then quickly moved around the vessel, unlocking the hatches and internal compartments.
From the moment General Ellis discovered where Peg was going and whom she was transporting, she had felt a thick, white, slimy, self-serving lie overcome her. Right now, I’d like some decontamination, too, she thought as she watched Pegasus and Aniel walk through separate male/female doors on their way to decontamination.
After the doors closed behind Pegasus and Aniel, Ellis gave another subtle gesture to the controllers. Immediately, several doors opened around the perimeter of the hangar and the first team of engineers, technicians, and Artisans came streaming in.
Ellis stood back and watched as they buzzed into action. She opened her palm and looked at the sparkling, crystalline keys, most of which did a lot more than open hatches. These keys unlocked secrets that could allow a team of excellent engineers to thoroughly dissect the transport. If the enemy could build acceptable replicas and had a pilot as good as Pegasus, they could travel all the way to the Planck Thicyphers. As unlikely as it might seem, if someone could then figure out how to defeat a single Thicypher Sphere, they would have a direct passage to the Thrones of Havona. And El Elyon.
“Hmmm,” General Ellis said to herself as she studied the keys in her hand. “Maybe I should hold a few of these back for safe keeping.”
Chapter 6
Slackards in Paradise
For most, a visit to Oceania was a beautiful dream into Celestial Paradise. For me, it was just a job. Truth be told, a job with some very sweet perks. And I could have stayed in that job forever. But then I met The Assassin, that mighty one who became Nebadon’s Archangel of Battle. She reawakened me to the nightmare that had been my past. After that, I just couldn’t wait to straighten up and rejoin the fight.
—Lieutenant Collin Striker
The Resurrection Halls of Carolina Isle
Mansion World II Celestial Sphere in low orthogonal orbit around Eden’s Solar Orb, Pollux
Collin struggled against his dreams. Part of his mind knew he was sleeping in the Resurrection Halls on Carolina Isle. That part knew he had just made another terrible mistake in his most recent incarnation upon planet Eden’s Material realm. Brittney was an Angel, and like all Angels, she was capable of tremendous acts of compassion and forgiveness. Still, what he had done to her while incarnated was too appalling to remember.
The struggle ended. All self-awareness melted. The dream took over his mind, pulling him back to Oceania, back before he incarnated into Eden, back when he first met Brittney on Oceania, a Celestial vacation area for Angels recovering from their latest incarnations into Eden…
His beachfront cottage on Oceania was filled with light from the bright green moon as he stumbled out of bed.
What was the name of that sweet little Seraphim who kept me warm last night? Collin could see the lovely, light-golden tan skin of her back, curvaceous bottom, and strong legs. The harp-shaped tattoo at the
base of her spine identified her as a member of The Sisters of Mercy, a choir of Angels sent to rescue corrupted Personalities from the Overlords.
What nice long blond hair. She sure took off her halo last night. He began feeling that familiar tingle between his legs, a tingle that he knew could easily become a burn. He quickly turned toward his closet, hoping that the subtle request from his loins had not awakened her. Angels can be quite perceptive, even in their sleep.
He wondered what her face looked like. After all, it could have been almost any Angel in his bed. He could have easily walked around the bed to look, but what was the point. His brain was mush from the hangover, so he probably would not remember anyway.
He grabbed a clean uniform from his closet, avoiding the squeaky planks in the floorboards, and carried his uniform into the next room. His thatch-covered cottage was just like the other living quarters for Oceania’s permanent residents. There were two rooms — a bedroom and a seating area. The bedroom was small but the bed was soft and comfortable. Collin had quickly learned that Angels like soft beds. The ceiling fan would lazily wave him to sleep, and every night a refreshing cool breeze would blow off the ocean of the Mamsa.
Attached to the bedroom was a bathroom. A relatively soundproof door separated the bedroom from the seating area. The seating area had a sofa, two comfortable chairs, and enough room for a Watcher Angel to stand and deliver news from around Nebadon, perform different types of entertainment, or even sing all night long. Next to the seating area was a tiny kitchen with a small table and four chairs.
Collin laid his uniform across the back of the sofa and walked to the kitchen sink. He could not risk making noise in the bathroom. He splashed some warm water on his face. Cold water would have worked better, but he had experienced plenty of that while stationed on Eden’s Material realm. He gave himself enough of a sponge bath to not be offensive and finished off with a spritz of a subtle flower extract.
He slipped on a light green shirt and dark green trousers, both perfect complements to his green Melchizedek skin. He checked to see that he was wearing his own nametag: C. Striker, First Lieutenant: Logistics. Yep, all the identifiers are correct and everything’s in place.
He had learned the hard way to check; wearing the nametag of a Silly Little Seraphif he had just boffed had earned him endless teasing and humiliation.
Sergeant Dustin Owen sat in the logistics office. He heard familiar, sluggish footsteps shuffling on the porch. He looked at the clock and smiled to himself. 11:15. Two hours later than usual. Dr. Yummy must have had quite a night.
As Collin reached for the screen door, panic hit his gut again. Over three hundred years since Princess Jenifer kicked my ass and I still panic. He opened the door and stumbled in.
“Mornin’ Sarge,” Striker grunted, as he shuffled around the front desk and made his way to his office. Sergeant Owen had been sitting at his desk since 07:45 this beautifully clear Oceania Monday morning.
“Good morning chief,” Dustin replied cheerfully, only briefly glancing up from his coffee and morning paper to see Striker drop into his chair.
For most, Oceania was the perfect vacation spot and a place to rejuvenate. Conveniently located close to Eden, this beautiful tropical Mansion World III Celestial sphere rode on the fourth harmonic of the Mamsa waters. Collin had done his share of missions into the Material realm of Eden and even a tough guy like he well knew that spending a physical human lifetime on such a troubled world could leave the psyche equally troubled. Eden was a trial for even the strongest and most experienced members of The Sisters of Mercy.
After one of those psychologically exhausting lifetimes, Oceania was where the Angels and others came to rest and recuperate before diving back into a new physical body to pick up King Joshua’s banner in this long war against Smigyl, the Overlords, and their children.
For other groups like the Corps of the Valkyrie, Oceania was an excellent staging area for clandestine missions into Eden. For the hung-over dayshift Lieutenant Striker, Oceania was just a job.
“How’s Britt?” Dustin called out, never looking up from his paper.
“Fine. She’s fine,” he mumbled back while he hung his head in his hands, attempting to will-away the pounding in his brain and the wooziness in his stomach. He felt somewhat relieved to know the Angel still in his bed was probably Brittney. All he had to do now was remember her face since he knew several Angels with names that could be reduced to ‘Britt’.
With only one small ship in town this weekend, he would probably run into her sometime later today. More than likely she would track him down, just the way she had tracked him down minutes after her ship had landed Friday afternoon. Whether she would sleep with him this evening, that was something he did not need to worry about, although for some reason after all these years he did. Britt or no Britt, soon there would be boatloads of Angels looking for a good time, many of whom probably already had their sights set on Dr. Yummy, as he was affectionately called.
“Is there anything I need to sign?” Collin called back from his office.
“Just one thing, boss. It’s there in your IN tray.”
Collin forced his eyes to focus as he scanned down the three-page form stapled together with a list of supplies requisitioned for another one of Frank Haiguns’ missions into Eden. Collin was relieved that Frank had already come and gone before he arrived. Sometimes, it pays to be really late, Collin thought.
As usual, Sergeant Owen’s forms were in perfect order. It was routine for Collin — approve the list, sign at the bottom of each page, stamp the time and date.
But ever since he screwed up on one of Commander Vegu-Aniel Odinero’s Silver Storm insertions and spent three months in the hospital after Aniel almost beat him to death, he always took a second look just to be sure.
Collin looked up at the clock. It was 11:35.
“If that’s it, I’m going over to Bill’s,” Collin said as he dropped the form into Dustin’s IN tray.
“That’s it, Boss. If anything else comes up, I’ll find you.”
By the time Collin reached the front door, Dustin had already walked through the back door to the logistics warehouse. Collin shuffled over to Bill’s Clear Creek Grill. Forgot my shades again. Crap. Squinting against the brightness of the near-noon moon, he took extra care to walk over the small, one-person bridge. More than one drunk had unexpectedly landed in the icy Clear Creek and then swiftly whisked into the rich turquoise ocean.
Princess Parvarti of Nebadon sat at the bar sipping some fresh carrot juice. Her heart fluttered as soon as she saw Collin. Parvarti quickly turned around on her stool to face the slender blue-skinned barkeep, a cute little Artisan by the name of Elizabeth. Most called her Skillit.
“Good morning, sunshine. What a surprise to see you,” Skillit called out as Collin made his way through the door. As usual, Skillit began assembling ingredients for the refreshing drink she made him on mornings when it looked like he needed a little extra help clearing his brain and settling his stomach.
Skillit and the other barkeep, Wrenn, glanced at each other, pretending not to notice how Parvarti had so quickly turned around and resumed eating her lunch when Collin walked in. They also pretended not to notice her green eyes turn blue with infatuation as she stared into the large mirror that hung behind the bar, watching him walk across the restaurant.
Out of the corner of his eye, Collin noticed Parvarti watching him through the mirror. Sexual attractiveness was not the issue here. Parvarti had deep, rich green skin, a cute face, and sparkling eyes that readily changed colors with her mood. However, considering the other disastrous problems in his life, and especially considering who Parvarti’s parents were — the Divine Twins, King Joshua and Queen Magdalene — he did not need their youngest Goddess daughter, little Parvarti to have a crush on him.
Collin glanced at Wrenn. What a disaster. How was I supposed to know Wrenn and Josephine were best friends?
Wrenn and Skillit walked into the kitch
en. Wrenn slammed the door.
“So, I guess this means Collin hasn’t apologized to you or Josephine yet,” Skillit said, doing her best to minimize the humor in her voice. She knew Wrenn’s feelings had been deeply hurt throughout the whole unfortunate affair. At the same time, Skillit found it funny to finally see Dr. Yummy’s nuts in a nice tight vise.
Skillit found a knife to chop some fresh ginger and tomatoes for Collin’s drink. Wrenn looked at her and just shook her head. “You know, Skillit. The guy must be stupid. Almost two years now, and he still hasn’t spoken to Josie? Doesn’t he have any idea what she could do to his career? And I bet he has no clue what Michelle almost did when she found out.”
“Yeah, well I was actually there when Michelle found out,” Skillit said. “I’ve known Michelle a long time. Long before, she became Josie’s bodyguard. There’s no doubt in my mind Michelle would have tracked Yummy down and chopped him into tiny bits if Josie hadn’t called her off.”
The image of razor-sharp wings making Collin’s blood splatter made Skillit stop cutting the tomato — there was just something about those red juices that made her look away.
“Here. You finish this. I’m gonna talk to Yum Yum,” Skillit said, throwing her apron on the counter.
All Wrenn had to do was finish the tomatoes, drop in the ginger, and blend. However, the foreign look in Wrenn’s eyes, made Skillit pause. No telling what Collin might end up drinking.
“What the heck?” Skillit said with a shrug and walked over to Collin who sat at his favorite booth, one that provided the best view of Angels entering and leaving Bill’s Clear Creek Grill.
“So what did Dr. Yummy do last night?” Skillit asked as she sat across from him. It was not as if she did not know what her friend Collin did most every night when a ship full of Angels was in town.
“Well Skillit, if you must know, last night I was entertaining a nice little SLS by the name of Britt,” Collin said hesitantly, looking for his drink. Skillit always brought it before sitting and talking.
Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1) Page 4
