by Reiter
“Understood, Kulrithe,” Amosse said plainly, locking his eyes on Ephaliun’s to communicate the message had been well-received. “Star, good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Amosse,” Rahneece said as she walked up the gangplank. “If your girl is as good as you say, she can take the controls.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Ainille quickly replied, surprising her sister and Amosse with the volume of her voice. “I’ve never seen anything like her!”
“Oh yeah, that’s our Chief Engineer’s flavor.” Rahneece was soon out of sight inside the ship with Ainille rushing to catch up with her. Eleda, Ulios, and Ephaliun were loading the belongings of Amosse and his group. Teela walked up close to Amosse, stepped around him, and picked up the trunk, hoisting it up to her shoulder.
“We don’t have much room,” Teela explained. “… but I think Satithe’s already laid out an area for your things. If you follow me, I’ll show you the way.”
“Which means absolutely nothing has changed,” Amosse remarked. “You’re still showing me the way… and I’m desperately trying to catch up… I can only imagine what Bantar’s up to now.”
“I’m sure he’s doing what needs to be done,” Teela answered. “According to Z, he’s getting along nicely.” Teela stopped and turned to face her former schoolmate. “And I think you need to wipe that off. It doesn’t belong on this ship.” Amosse started to inquire what she was talking about, but Teela beat him to the punch. “That positioning you love to do, where you compliment me and put yourself in the worst possible light because you’re either trying to invoke sympathy from me or continued self-persecution from you. It’s imperative you understand neither one of those helps you or this crew on our mission. I can live with you standing in your own way. The moment you get in the way of helping Star see to the mission Z gave us… I won’t warn you… I won’t even clear my throat. I’ll just clear you and anyone who thinks they can get in my way. You want to pitch in, you’ll find a home here… I’ll see to that. But not for one moment will I force Rahneece to endure your games.”
“And what if I told you it wasn’t a game to me?” Amosse asked as Teela started up the gangplank. She did not stop when he issued his question. She just sighed.
“Sure it is, Amosse. Even what we’re doing is a game. The points are just kept in wins, losses, life, and death. You have my warning.”
Amosse watched the woman walk away and wondered if he had ever known Teela Mansfield. He wondered if she had known she could become what he now observed. Eleda walked by and she made sure to catch his eyes with her own.
“The key is not whether you agree or disagree with her,” the woman said as she walked by the man. “It’s whether or not she believes in what she said.”
“The Teela I knew barely spoke unless she was emotional,” Amosse remarked, following behind Eleda. “She isn’t at the moment, and she spoke clearly and without hesitation. She believes it all right. What kind of weeks have they been living?”
“I cannot say,” Eleda answered, knowing that Ephaliun could hear her. “But I know eyes that have seen the personal dealing of death. Only their leader doesn’t have them. Of all positions to choose to not have them, the leader is not the best choice, but it certainly isn’t the worst. Sometimes a non-killer surrounded by death-dealers is a very effective combination.”
“I’ll take you word for it, Eleda,” Amosse returned. “And it’s our leader that doesn’t have those eyes. Do you read me?”
“Yes, Master, I shall follow her lead until you say otherwise,” the Castigator replied.
“Let’s open the throttle a bit, people,” Rahneece’s voice came over the speaker. “Just received a file from Gundryss. Seems that a certain party by the name of Field Marshal is looking hard and heavy for JoJo Starblazer or any party or parties linked to her.”
“Gods,” Ephaliun said as he ran up the gangplank. “What has that woman gone and done now?!”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
“I didn’t bring that down on her, did I?” Oedelorana asked, placing her cup of tea down on her saucer.
Zydeelia Gundryss was quick to pat the hand of her distinguished and presently displaced guest. “Lady Sylgarr, from what I have heard about that particular woman, she demonstrates the type of personality that will find trouble if it is hidden under a rock! Even if you were responsible for any conflict she could find, I am sure she would have found it on her own eventually.” Oedelorana looked up at her host who was returning from the small com-station to return to the parlor. Many in the room wanted to speak with JoJo, but her First Mate had reported she was celebrating her passage through the Ozone Trials at Sky Stone Academy. Nothing was said of the pirate captain joining the ranks of the Star-Wing Corps. Instead, Lady Sylgarr’s eyes begged for confirmation of what the First Lady of Black Gate had said.
“While I do not share my wife’s opinion of JoJo Starblazer, it is hard to argue with her given standpoint,” Isaiah said, sitting down beside is wife. “JoJo isn’t breathing if she isn’t agitating someone in authority. A situation made worse if they don’t know how to handle the position.”
“Interesting wording, Lord Governor,” Loranos offered. “Perhaps you were complimenting yourself.”
“Loranos!” Oedelorana scolded. “Our host has been more than gracious. Perhaps you should try to match his efforts.”
Isaiah waved off her concerns. “Think nothing of it, your ladyship. In many ways, he’s right. I understand how JoJo thinks and I envy her. She yearns for a freedom few will ever witness, but I cannot say that yearning is hers alone.” Isaiah looked out of the window that gave a breathtaking view of the aperture outside of Black Gate.
“Freedom. One of those things we take for granted. In my travels, I have found that freedom is very similar in nature to control; something else we fool ourselves into thinking we possess. But that’s not why we’re together this evening, is it?” Isaiah asked, pulling himself away from the ambitions of his youth.
“With respect, Governor,” Gulfrileene spoke, moving to the edge of her seat. “If we can remain on this subject a moment longer. You see, I had always thought I possessed both freedom and control until recently. But here you are, a man of great authority, and you sound as if you possess no more freedom or control than I do.”
“You, young lady, are well on your way to a life of great wisdom and observation,” Isaiah replied.
“Not that either will bring you happiness,” Zydeelia added.
“Fair point, my love,” Isaiah smiled, saluting his wife with his cup. “That much is up to each of us individually.”
“It’s a good thing to have a little help along the way,” she said, taking hold of Isaiah’s hand.
“Let me know when I get around to helping you as much as you’ve helped me, my wife,” Isaiah said softly before kissing her hand. “But to answer your inquiry, young Lady Sylgarr, we do have some measure of freedom and control, just not as much as we’d like to think. Choice is the expression of those two facets of life. For example, I chose to intercept your ship at White Gate.”
“And from what we’ve heard it is a good thing you did,” Gulfrileene commented.
“Not to be insensitive, but that is beside the point,” Isaiah continued. “In making that choice, I am acting in the name of taking control, surrendering it at the same time. My action was a stimulus, the cosmos demands a response. The same can be said for JoJo. Mind you, she takes quite a few more conflictive actions than I do.”
“That is arguable,” Zydeelia remarked.
“And she must therefore weather a great deal more than my station receives,” Isaiah finished.
“How is it then that you have interceded where the station of Governor of Black Gate has no bearing?” Gulfrileene asked.
“My husband is much more than an official, young Lady Sylgarr,” Zydeelia asserted herself to speak ahead of Isaiah. “He is also a very good man and, most thankfully, something of a strategist. The Inner Rim Empi
re has interceded in the comings and goings of Black Gate. It is high time they are made to realize how that intrusion has been received.”
“You speak of the Imperial writ which was drafted on behalf of my family,” Gulfrileene commented.
“We have no problem with the fact that it was drafted or even issued,” Zydeelia replied. “But absolutely no respect was conveyed to my husband or his station. That is where the Empire made their mistake. It seems like every other day they need to be reminded where the boundary markers for the Inner Rim are placed. It was for the Sylgarr Family that this affront to his name was made, and it is for the Sylgarr Family that this gesture had been enacted… to serve as a reminder.”
“To say nothing of justice,” Isaiah added. “Those who have erred have been resolved. The Empire is having internal problems, once again, and they’re looking to label the survivors of Gulfrim Sylgarr as scapegoats instead of taking the position of accountability. They can do that on someone else’s watch.
“In about an hour, you will be escorted to the Bowels,” Isaiah announced after looking at his brace-com.
“The Bowels?!” Loranos repeated.
“There you will be taken by the Keeper of Black Gate, who is basically the voice of authority in the black market here, and he will provide you with your new identities. He will then place you on a transport that will see you to the Terran Triangle, but do not expect it to be a direct route. From there, you will be smuggled into the Inner Rim, specifically the moon Baetru in the Kebbo System, where you will find the Torvo Estate.” Oedelorana quickly put her eyes to Zydeelia who was sipping her tea. She smiled at Lady Sylgarr, giving her a slight nod confirming what Isaiah had said. Zydeelia was formerly young Lady Torvo before she married Isaiah Gundryss, an act that had her disowned and Isaiah removed from his rank in the IA Magistrates. “Lote Greerson Torvo has already received word of your impending arrival and he should be able to get you to where you need to be in the Inner Rim. I have a strong feeling that wasn’t your original destination, as you’ll be shooting right by White Star, but I’m sure you realize that what’s left of your family will not know peace until you’ve been able to state your case before the Emperor. That is the only way you get to see freedom and control again in the light of day.”
“I wish I could argue your conclusion,” Oedelorana sighed. “As I am sure you have already considered asking me to drop my name and start my life over somewhere else. Could you tell me when you came to the conclusion I would not be open to that?”
“The moment you stepped off the shuttle,” Isaiah replied. Lady Sylgarr smiled, taking up her cup and saucer.
“Then, to my last hour as Lady Sylgarr.”
“A suspended status at worst,” Zydeelia added. Isaiah allowed his eyes to drift to the two who had not spoken a single word during the exchange. The Jockey and her brother were content to sit on the proverbial sidelines and listen to what was being said. He would tell them later that their search programs had been isolated in a virtual database and ask them to keep their clandestine investigations into him to a minimum in the foreseeable future.
Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present.
Buddha
(Rims Time: XII-4204.02)
The Ozone Trials completed, the cadets congratulated, and the vanquished were either escorted from the premises or admitted to the medical facilities of Stone City, the demeanor of Sky Stone returned to its norm.
The first surprise the new students received was an extended break from returning to scholarship and training. An incident at Black Gate led to the suspension of the aperture. Instructors had been delayed, and the cadets were free to spend their time as they saw fit. They had even been given permission to leave the facility. If it had been a test, and it most surely was one, all the cadets passed – because they all trained in one form or another. While Dungias saw to matters off-planet, Jocasta thought she would get away from flying and meditate. For four hours she romped around Sky Stone, running, diving, sliding, rolling and occasionally swinging as she toured the lower levels.
She sat in the middle of the floor; her eyes closed and sweat rolling down the sides of her face. Her heart was beating so fast that it made her body tremble as she slowly gained control over her panting lungs.
Dungias entered the room and stopped at the sight of her. His head tilted to the side as his eyes squinted and his nostrils flared. Pointing at the corner of the room where the real Jocasta sat in the shadows, Dungias said, “I am becoming concerned about your extra-curricular activities.”
“Why the hell did you build and give me this thing?” she asked, deactivating the projector.
“Apparently not to fool me,” Dungias answered. “Should I even dare to inquire as to where you procured sweat?” Jocasta turned to look at her First Mate who did not hold her eyes for long. “No, I do not believe I will risk it.”
“How is everything with the guys?”
“They are about crew business,” Dungias replied, “… just as you should be about your business. Odd how your projection was sweating and you are not.”
“No amount of sweat is going to get me into one of those cans!” Jocasta protested.
“Again, this issue with power-suits,” Dungias observed. “Perhaps you suffer from a very specific type of claustrophobia. So long as there is a stick you can manipulate, you are quite fine with tight spaces. Are you aware of how that sounds?”
“Don’t you dare,” Jocasta warned. “I will smack you so hard your hair will be black and blue, and everyone will see that you’ve always had dandruff!”
“It is worse than I thought,” Dungias stated. “Even your quips are now inept. No sting to them whatsoever.”
“You want sting, do you?” Jocasta said as she ran across the room.
“Captain!” Dungias called out as Jocasta dove over the stove, tackling him to the kitchen floor. “Captain, this is no time for sparring!”
“Hey, you said I got dick issues,” Jocasta huffed as she worked to put Dungias into an arm bar. “Well you are the biggest dick in my life! I figure after I cast- oh wow… oww!” Jocasta released her hold on Dungias’ body after he put the index and middle fingers of his left hand to her forehead. He was stimulating the pain-centers in her brain, but very mildly. “Kot, that fucking hurts!”
“It is meant to,” Dungias said as he moved her off of his body. He released his hold on her and she jumped up from the floor, bounding over his head and landing on her feet. The shenanigans stopped as they both noted the unusual agility and strength. “Captain?” Dungias questioned as he looked down at her feet. She was not wearing her boots. Dungias stood up straight, extended his senses, and the expression suddenly went away from his face. “Captain!”
“What?!” she asked, looking up at him. “Oh! That. Yeah, we need to talk, honey.”
“Yes, sweetheart, we do!” Dungias said, ushering her to the sofa. He held out his other hand for Alpha and erected a dome to contain sound and prevent them from being seen.
“You don’t trust this place yet?”
“It is not that,” Dungias answered. “The fewer chances I take, the fewer people I will have to kill should what you are about to say rank above their need to know.”
“Way to hedge your bets,” Jocasta said, taking a seat. Not one for dramatic pauses, she made herself comfortable, set her eyes on her First Mate, and shared what had happened the evening she had spent with V’Dalthian. She spared no detail, as it was Dungias to whom she was speaking.
Dungias sat and took in every word, comforted to receive information in this manner. So many things he had gained knowledge without ever having to be told; it had robbed him of a genuine sharing experience. Processing Jocasta’s explanation, he also took in the feed of data from Alpha, and he was able to truly understand what had happened. Jocasta had matched wills with a Dragon and won, though perhaps not for the reasons she believed. Like all of The Seven, Jocasta was possessive of a
nearly indomitable will. With the work Dungias and Smitty had done, the children had all been enabled to make their own decisions and question whatever they wished to.
“Crapstacks galore, right?” Jocasta asked. “Just how screwed am I?”
“Surely you would know that better than I,” Dungias replied and Jocasta shuddered as she lifted her head to look at him.
“Z… was that a joke?! I tell you I went the Satin Rounds with a Dragon and you’re cracking?!”
“Should I have asked whether you used protection?” he inquired.
“Resume roughhousing!” she muttered leaping up from the sofa. She caught only air as Dungias rolled under her, waving as she sailed over him.
“How appropriate you assign a term used to refer to a child’s activities!” Dungias remarked, standing up. Jocasta landed, bent deeply at the knees and jumped again. She landed on the floor the same time Dungias did, the distance between them remained exactly the same. “If you are done hurling yourself about…”
The apartment would need a thorough cleaning! Jocasta slid down the wall to sit on the floor, panting deeply and thoroughly exhausted. She looked at the athletic refreshment bottle Dungias had put into her hand four exchanges before the end, and chuckled at how she had tried to throw it at his face. The Traveler had ducked forward, kicking over his back, sending the bottle into her face instead.
“What the hell do you call that over the back kick anyway?”
“Scorpion kick,” he advised as he opened his own bottle. He was not depleted, but it was no longer a simple exercise to spar with Jocasta. “Though it has been some time since I have tried it. Well done, Captain. It is dark now. There should be few people around the proving grounds.”
“You’re not canning me, Z.”
“You are getting in a power-suit tonight,” he declared. “How that comes to be is entirely up to you!” Dungias walked to fetch her a towel and Jocasta mocked him silently as she opened the bottle. Downing a healthy gulp, she closed her eyes and put her head against the wall.
