by Reiter
(Rims Time: XII-4203.02)
Teela thought the décor was a bit much, but there was a certain sentiment to it. It just felt right, and it went along with what they were trying to accomplish. It was easier to go with the suggested ambience of the Library of Alexandria and add her contributions wherever she could. In this particular instance, that meant getting up from the table and getting a scroll for Bantar. While Amosse always pressed himself to be in any and everyone’s sight and consideration, Bantar was the most gifted in the arts of scholarship and research.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this,” the young woman thought as she tucked her long, dark brown hair behind her ear before taking hold of the scroll-case. The texture and weight of it was notable, and it gave her reason to pause for a moment. “I suppose then it goes in stride with everything else that has been happening.
“Gods, what are my parents going to say?” she cringed with the contemplation. “Four class credits shy of what I need to graduate… and I just up and leave.
“They’ll probably hire my brother to kill me,” Teela whispered as she opened the scroll-case, sneezing with the dust that she had kicked up. “This place is too much!”
“Talking to yourself again, Teela?” Amosse asked as he closed a large tome, tossing it aside so that he could take hold of another.
“Hey, watch it!” Bantar snapped as he took hold of the hurled text. “This stuff’s kinda old and fragile!”
“Will you listen to yourself?!” Amosse fired back, his opal eyes flaring. He shook his head as he laughed and was still chuckling when he put his eyes back to the pages. “There’s no way I can hurt anything in here!”
Bantar took in a breath to continue the argument, but he stopped to think about where they were and what they were doing. His eyebrows lifted over his eyes and he nodded before gently placing the book back down on the table.
“Don’t mind him,” Teela suggested as she delivered the scroll-case. “Mr. Garnet Barony has his butt on his shoulders, as always. I’m surprised he can stand the smell!”
“It’s an acquired taste,” Amosse quickly fired back without looking up from the page he was reading. “Don’t act as if you’re not waiting for your turn to sample the goods.”
Teela’s brown eyes cut over to look at Amosse who was still reading. She wanted to cut him back, but nothing of any worth came to mind. Besides, it would have been different if he had been wrong. His black hair had been trimmed since they had come aboard, giving Teela another reason to hate Pristacia. Not only was she heavenly to look upon, but her grooming skills had managed to improve on a face that was already quite handsome to Teela’s palate. She jumped when Bantar took hold of the case and turned to see him smiling up at her, fully realizing what was behind her eyes.
“Maybe we both shouldn’t mind him,” Bantar whispered. “And thanks again.”
“My pleasure.”
“I’ll say it again: you don’t have to do this,” Bantar said as he took the scroll out of the case, gently placing it on the floor so that it leaned against his aged mahogany chair.
“And I’ll say once more that I have to,” Teela said as she squatted beside Bantar. “I can only take so much of this sitting around before I start clawing the walls.”
“Don’t you mean climbing the walls?” Amosse asked.
“Clawing!” Bantar and Teela said at the same time before they both started laughing.
Bantar’s laughter was cut short as his eyes drew focus on the writing on the scroll. “Sweetcakes!” he whispered. “Teela, you did it!”
“What did she do?” Amosse asked as he looked up. He stared directly into Bantar’s blue eyes, seeing the light of discovery shining bright in them. “And did you just call her sweetcakes or–”
“This is it!” Bantar declared. “Satithe, if you please.”
“My pleasure,” Satithe said as green light flashed over the scroll before it disappeared. Green lights flashed over the eyes of the trio as the contents of the scroll were downloaded into their minds. “And I would concur with your declaration, Bantar. Teela has definitely done it. From my estimation, that is the translation key for the language written on the bottom of one of the wand cases.
“While you assimilate this information, however, I am afraid I have some bad news.”
“Aw no!” Amosse protested as he frowned. “Not yet. Five more minutes!”
The light of the lanterns was soon replaced with the light of the infirmary, and the study area faded altogether, taking the shelves, the books, and the scrolls with it. Heads came up from the beds upon which they had been resting.
“Sorry guys,” Culshee said as she approached with scanner in hand. “But I gave you a good half-hour more than I should have. If Jovasor found out about that, he’d have my head.” The woman scanned all three bodies, her soft brown eyes moving from device to patient several times. She put away the scanner as she nodded. “They’re good.” The holding straps of the beds released and the three got out of bed.
“But all we got was the translation key for one of the wands,” Amosse complained as he stood up, rubbing his temples as the recognition of pain set in. “Ouch. Okay, she might have a point.”
“Seriously?!” Bantar said sarcastically, still seated on his bed and rubbing his head. “A throbbing headache that’s impacting our vision and you think she might have a point?!”
“Easy boys,” Teela said as she looked at the two of them in pain, wondering why, with their third time of doing this, she still felt no discomfort. “Arguing is only going to make you feel worse.
“And thanks, Tuitonn,” she smiled as she looked up toward the ceiling. The small silvery sphere floated down to her eye level. “We couldn’t do any of this without you and Satithe.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Tuitonn said as two beams of ThoughtWill shot out to Amosse and Bantar. Both of their bodies seized up before relaxing and sighing. “This is an application of telepathy I’ve never explored before. Turning the databases that Satithe is able to find into a research library–”
“A very tasteful library,” Teela added.
“You are far too gracious, young Maga,” Tuitonn replied. “But, for what it’s worth, while the three of you were reviewing what you could, Satithe was busy scanning and finding a number of libraries. You can read them at your leisure or–”
“That would take years!” Amosse groaned as he opened his eyes once more. The pain was gone, but his body was stiff and in need of food. “We only managed to clear two shelves in ninety minutes!”
“Ninety-five,” Culshee corrected, pulling her long, straight black hair into a pony tail. “Now get out of here. Roc is waiting on all three of you, and I’ll be following up with him about what you three had to eat!”
“I could have sworn I left my mother back at home with my father,” Amosse muttered as the three of them stepped out of the infirmary.
“Oh, shut up!” Teela said, pushing against his shoulder. “Culshee’s just looking out for us. You should be so lucky. This crew is one serious support system.”
“You mean investment system,” Amosse argued. “The Captain’s just getting all the crap she can for the cred.”
“Is that what you really believe?!” Bantar asked, stopping in the middle of the corridor. “Is it?”
“Come on, Bantar,” Teela said, reaching for his hand. “It’s Amosse just being Amosse.”
Bantar moved his hand out of the way of Teela’s grasp. “And maybe that’s the problem!” Bantar snapped as he stepped up to face Amosse. “Always looking for the angle… and the backstab, aren’t you? I’ve always wondered why you do that. Maybe it’s because you’re like that!
“Did it ever occur inside that self-involved head of yours that the Captain could have sold off all of the stuff in that holding chamber, cut herself a seriously sweet profit, and not have one iota of the trouble she’s got right now?!
“And do you think we’re in the Prism Baronies so that w
e can do a trade?” Bantar pressed. “In case it didn’t have the time to register, everything in your eyes was built by the man we’re going after. EVERYTHING! Including that bad-ass infirmary we just walked out of. And Tuitonn, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s awesome the way you’re helping us the way you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing… but we could make the exact same trip in the simulators and do it without the headaches! And I haven’t even gotten to the vehicles Z’s put together or the weapons that are considered general issue on this ship!”
“The simulators!” Tuitonn said softly. “Bantar, you are a genius! Excuse me.” The small orb flew to one of the access tubes and quickly down out of sight.
“No problem,” Bantar said softly before he looked back at Amosse. “If you’re so sure the Captain’s just using us, why don’t you get yourself out of harm’s way and off this ship!” Bantar turned and stormed off down the walkway. Teela and Amosse watched him walk out of sight.
“You agree with him, don’t you?” Amosse asked.
“We didn’t meet this semester, Amosse,” Teela admitted. “You were pretty sure Z was up to a few things when we agreed to help him. Remember that?” Amosse looked down to the floor. “He took on the Professor to save us. He didn’t have to do that! He didn’t have to lift a finger. He could have just walked away, and had he followed your way of thinking he would have.
“That might be the problem you have with him, the Captain, and this ship,” Teela said, realizing something for herself. Yes, Amosse was a delight to her eyes, but she was not attracted to anything else about him. “You can’t believe Z’s on the level because you don’t understand him.” She would not say any more; hearing the words out loud suddenly made Teela want to be away from Amosse and closer to Bantar. She walked away and keyed in a notification command to Satithe: a warning whenever Amosse was in the holding chamber alone. The request was quickly acknowledged and a message: The journey is different for us all. His starting place is simply different than yours. Do not lose hope. Teela smiled at her brace-com, thanked Satithe, and continued for the Galley.
** b *** t *** o *** r **
The delivery of the electrical shock robbed her of any control of her body. Certain muscles locked and as others released, her weapons fell to the floor just ahead of her body. With arcs of electricity still running over her skin, Jocasta yelled and pounded the floor in frustration and fatigue. She looked up to see a hand being offered to her. She took hold of it and was once again surprised by the strength held in a body smaller than her own as she was pulled up from the floor.
“Nice move,” Jocasta admitted as she panted.
“Thanks,” Goldie replied, twirling one of his two stun sticks. They were both in one hand but he still had the dexterity to hold on to one while twirling the other. Flipping one stick to his free hand, Goldie used the tip to lift and toss to Jocasta her stun sticks. “You want to talk about it?”
“And say what?” Jocasta barked. “That you probably sleep with your swords?! Of course, that also means we have got to find you a girl.”
“Provided I go that way,” Goldie joked.
“Oh, you go that way,” Jocasta huffed. “The more I sweat, the more you don’t keep eye-to-eye contact.” Goldie looked at the floor as he shrugged his shoulders and stammered.
“Finally,” she thought. “… an opening!” Jocasta lunged forward, driving her shoulder into Goldie’s chest. The young man grunted as he fell back.
Jocasta charged her stick and swung, but her weapon passed under Goldie’s legs as he threw his body into a back flip. He landed on his fists and flipped over, landing in a kneeling stance as Jocasta missed over his head. He then deflected a thrust by her non-powered stick, meant to stand in for her cane scabbard, but he knew he was in a bad position: on one foot against a fast, pressing opponent and the wall was only a meter behind him.
A smile broke across the young man’s face as he pushed up off the floor with one foot and off the wall with the other. His body arched over Jocasta’s head and just out of the reach of her stun stick. He could hear the woman yelling as he landed, and he barely got his sticks up in time to block a very powerful backhand swing. It became clear the way she charged in behind the swing that she had not intended to hit him so much as she wanted to get his weapons out of the way. Her foot found his ribs and air was forced out of his body. Goldie tried to get his sticks up again, but both were knocked out of his hands with her next attack, again more powerful than anything she had used up to that point. A side kick stamped into his chest and Goldie was nearly lifted from the floor by the power of the blow. Jocasta spun around swinging, but her weapon passed over Goldie’s face, the result of a perfectly timed back-bend. Keeping with the rhythm of the moment, her downward backhand slash was avoided by a hop; another back-bend moved Goldie out of the way of a blow meant for his neck. Three more quick, accurate, and hard attacks were dodged as the young man spun, jumped, and rolled, picking up his sticks and getting one to his back in time to block another attack. He turned around, ducking his head under another swing before standing toe-to-toe with Jocasta, taking five exchanges before he disarmed her of both sticks and applying the tip of one stun stick to the underside of her chin, the other to her crotch.
“You’re a ruthless crapstack, aren’t ya?” Jocasta panted as she went up on her toes.
“I’m learning from the best!” Goldie shot back, equally pressed and fatigued. Jocasta lifted her hands in surrender and Goldie stepped back, keeping his weapons at the ready. Jocasta gazed deeply into his eyes before she started laughing. She kept her hands up as she withdrew.
“I’ll go along with that. You are learning. So, do you sleep with your swords?”
“No,” Goldie said as he dropped his sticks and put his hands on his knees. “But I’ve been a fan of the blade ever since I was a little hatchling.”
“Hatchling,” Jocasta repeated as she walked over to where the towels were hanging. She did not see his face twist slightly in frustration. “Cute.” She took down one towel and tossed it over to Goldie. “Heads up,” she warned. Goldie dropped to one knee, picked up both sticks, thrusting one into the towel and lifting the other to receive an attack. He relaxed when he realized the only thing that had been quickly approaching him was the towel. Jocasta smiled as she took down a towel for herself. “Nice reflexes,” she remarked. “But when I stop, I stop. Especially when it’s among friendlies.”
“Good to hear,” Goldie said, taking hold of the towel. He closed his eyes as he put the towel to his face. The woman was a very surprising package. She was faster than he thought and stronger than she looked. She was only wearing leggings and a tank top at the moment, so her well-toned muscles were on display. Her normal clothes, however, were looser and the only thing she could not hide in them was her square shoulders.
“So, when you came out of the womb, you had some steak knives and you’ve just grown from there?” she asked.
“Something like that,” Goldie answered. “Let’s just say it’s been over ten years that I’ve been studying the sword.”
“Over ten?!” Jocasta gasped. She stood there, looking at the young man, and then shook her head as she put the towel to her face. “I’m surprised I’m still in the room with you, jeez!”
“Funny you should say that,” Goldie said. “Part of the reason why I scored on you the way I did is that you don’t give ground. You’ve got the spinning deflections down, but there comes a time when–”
“Goldie, I appreciate the distraction,” she admitted. “I really do. Our first few moments in the Prism Baronies have not necessarily been ideal.”
All of the intelligence had been collected and the Brain Trust was working out the kinks. They certainly had enough to work out and each one of them had felt collectively they could not fill one of Z’s shoes. Still there was work to do, and the Xara-Mansura had been moved into position, awaiting the signal from Black Gate which would allow them to proceed.
When the signal was f
inally given, Jocasta had initiated thrust, quickly exceeding the suggested velocity for transit through the portal. Silnee and Agatha had been on the Bridge with Jocasta when the warnings had been transmitted, and both of them had shared in a silent conversation of glances and glares as they watched their Captain take her ship into the aperture.
“I can actually feel our acceleration,” Silnee had said as the ship started to shudder.
“Make that two of us,” Agatha had quickly added with a slight tremor in her voice that could not be attributed to what the ship was experiencing.
“Easy, pilots,” Jocasta had stated, “you’re scaring the women! How they love to hold the stick, and not a set of balls between them!” The flaring white light of the aperture had made the view-screen useless for a moment, but Jocasta simply looked at her console, always keeping one hand on the controls. The cavitation had increased, causing a smile to break across the woman’s face.
“Are you trying to convince yourself that you’re not getting a little ass-tight right now?!” Silnee had said as she gripped the armrests of her chair more tightly when a shockwave passed through the Xara-Mansura.
“Hate to break it to you, Tolip,” Jocasta had sighed as she eased the throttle forward, calling for more speed. “… but we’re all girls here, so this viewpoint applies. Surprises in life are just really big dicks! You can either tighten up, thereby ensuring the experience will be a painful one, or you can loosen up… maybe get lubricated, and try to enjoy the ride!”
“I will try to keep that in mind,” Silnee had replied.
“Optics have been recalibrated, Captain,” Satithe had reported as the view-screen started to dim. The view of the aperture had brought silence to the Bridge and a cessation of suspense. The kaleidoscope of streaking colors against a glaring white background was too wonderful to behold. It was a tunnel of white light flowing toward appeared to be a white star. Light in various colors streaked ahead of the ship, flaring before they disappeared into the bright center.
