StarFlight: The Prism Baronies (Beyond the Outer Rim Book 2)

by Reiter

  “Wouldn’t matter if we only drifted a thousand meters,” Jocasta replied. “Freemen tend to be drinkers, and they cover a pretty wide range of tastes.”

  “I think I’d like to see an Olasson pirate,” Sarshata said, pouring the nectar.

  “No you wouldn’t,” Jocasta asserted. “I get it. Used to feel the same way too. The reality falls way short of expectations. Three seconds of novelty, hours of some of the meanest drunks you’ve ever seen. They fight pretty funny when they’re over that hill! Hard to hurt them when they’re that way too.

  “What are we celebrating?” Jocasta asked.

  “I always drink nectar when I have a quiet moment with a fellow Star-Wing.” Jocasta froze as her mind processed what she had just heard. “Your class scores were never your pass-fail criteria, Silverwing. It all came down to how you would handle the link to the Eye. I don’t question Cavern. The man could be Commandant if he wanted to. Hell, I wouldn’t even take his challenge.”

  “Yes you would,” Jocasta argued, “… but I get the level of respect.” Sarshata just smiled at the retort, opting not to acknowledge that the pirate captain was probably right.

  “Sorry for the dressed down celebration, but–”

  “Gods no, please don’t. This is much better, believe me!” Sarshata frowned and her head tilted to the side. “Yes, pirates love inspiring legend and so long as I’m stealing Kot or sticking it to the Imps, Maggots, and Bricks, announce all you like. That’s JoJo Starblazer, and that’s what she’s supposed to be. The only people that need to know I’m Silverwing are the ones I’m about to roast off to the Grey Realm, and a few trusted souls who helped me to get here.”

  “So, you’ll be a Star-Wing, but not a Corpsman.”

  “If I join, I get a rank, right?” Jocasta asked.

  “Yes and with your aptitude, unless the Eye says different, you’d be an officer for sure.”

  “Which means I’d have subordinates under me?” Sarshata nodded ‘yes’. “And superiors over. So… let’s move ahead to Scenario Normal where you give me a directive. What happens if I tell you that I’m busy with something else or I just plainly say ‘go get bent’?” Sarshata smiled as she looked down at the floor.

  “Pirates have to be free to be pirates, don’t they?”

  “Amen, sister!” Jocasta lifted her glass before taking a good sip of the nectar. Sarshata’s eyes widened as the woman swirled the drink in her mouth, swallowed and breathed out slowly. “Oh, that’s the good stuff!” Looking up at Commander Ravinguez, Jocasta shook her head ‘no’. “I’m not a joiner. You can put me down for an ear that’ll hear you out. I’d fight to keep Sky Stone flying. I’ve got no problems defending her… or even shaving some cred and sending it your way. But the Stars are the only officers ordering this woman about, and even then it’s by committee!”

  It was not what she wanted to hear, but exactly what she expected, though JoJo was slightly more gracious than Sarshata had imagined. She kept her smile, allowing the truth of her feelings to register in her eyes. It was easy to trust JoJo… easier to envy the woman. “Welcome to the family of Aces… my sister, my friend, and my flyer.”

  “Today I’m with you,” Jocasta said, touching her glass to Sarshata’s. “Tomorrow I smoke you!”

  ** b *** t *** o *** r **

  “So glad you could make the meeting on such short notice,” Gustav said as Isaiah entered the chamber after signaling J’Raldri to wait outside for him.

  “You don’t strike me as the sort to hit the panic button, Gustav. Though for the time of day we could’ve met just about anywhere and been afforded plenty of shadows. This isn’t the Bowels, but I can’t say a processing plant is a step in the right direction.”

  “I know a man who knows a man,” the Black Axe replied. “It made for an easy exchange.” Gustav looked intently at the Governor of Black Gate. “Someone’s making major moves in The Territories, and it’s got nothing to do with the Empire.”

  “Crossing the Empire off the suspect list is hardly cause for celebration,” Isaiah commented. “What have you got?”

  “Two ships,” Gustav replied. “Relics actually, but space-worthy. A battle-cruiser and an armoured freighter.” The two men stood there looking at one another.

  “Sounds like one hell of a pay off,” Isaiah said softly, nodding. “And this section of the plant is shielded. Couldn’t get a call for help out if my life depended on it. But then again, I am the Governor, maybe I have my com-device attuned to the one channel they use around here.”

  “I’m controlling that channel tonight,” Gustav advised. “This isn’t a hit, Governor. It’s a delay. I keep you here and quiet, I pick up the best pay-day I’ve ever had! And there’s another reason why we met here. You play along, Governor, and you won’t have to worry about your wife!” The lips of Isaiah Gundryss pressed together as he glared at the Keeper of Black Gate. His wrist-com sounded off, giving the tone that indicated the Baronial Council was trying to reach him.

  “The Council?” Isaiah asked. “You’re keeping me from the Council?”

  “I’m not,” Gustav replied. “The Field Marshal is!”

  A single breaker may recede; but the tide is evidently coming in.

  Thomas B. Macaulay

  (Rims Time: XII-4204.24)

  Jocasta walked into the chamber, wearing the white robes she had been given and with the hood pulled up as she had been told. Though she did not know the particular level they were on, she could see where the edge of the facility met the stone it had been built into. The room was cool and very still. Eugenia stood at the end of the path wearing dark gray robes. She moved to put a hand on Dungias’ chest, but she was cut off by Jocasta.

  “He’s coming in here one way or another,” Jocasta shared. “I thought it would be best for everyone if for once we did things on the up and up.”

  “Let the Malgovi approach,” a voice responded, and Eugenia stepped to the side.

  “Goodbye, JoJo Starblazer,” Eugenia said tenderly. “You are only Silverwing to me now, regardless of the outcome here. It has been an honor to train with you. It will be a privilege to fly with you.”

  “Thanks for dealing me in, Snow,” Jocasta returned. She looked at the path ahead of her, a tall, male figure in black robes waited for her. Her eyes blinked rapidly and she nodded. “I want you to know–”

  “While you understand what I did, you don’t agree with it,” Eugenia finished. “You aren’t going to apologize and neither will I. Getting through the Ozone means you can fly. Being a Star-Wing means you can keep your head. Only one way to test that. So yes, the class was told it was failing. You were put into a forced dive. We monitored how quickly and in what manner you pull up.

  “But I’m looking at what those bad moves made happen, and it gives me hope. What you hold for me, Silverwing, should not be confused for what you hold for the Corps.”

  “I never would have painted you a zealot,” Jocasta stated.

  “When you can look through my eyes, we’ll talk again on what colors you see,” Eugenia replied, nodding at Jocasta and ushering her forward.

  She walked and Dungias walked with her, reaching back to pull up the hood of his cloak. “Grade that, please.”

  “You continue to amaze me, Captain,” Dungias stated. “That was well done. With any luck, she did not see you making fists with your right hand.” Jocasta’s shoulders sank for a couple of strides.

  “Ugh!” she grunted as she walked. Dungias patted her on the back and they both breathed in at the same time. Three breaths they were afforded before reaching the figure in the black robes... more than enough time for Jocasta to clear her mind of her angers and frustrations. She was focused, and with that increased sensitivity, the cave was becoming warmer.

  “Indeed,” Dungias whispered as they walked. Jocasta looked up at her friend whose eyes were looking beyond the robed figure.

  “What is it?”

  “Some revelations are not mine to make,” Dungias rep
lied as he stopped walking. “But you know where I am.”

  “At my side,” Jocasta whispered as she continued walking. She did not look back, she knew there was no need to. Dungias would be where she needed him; the same place he had been since the day they met.

  “That was an unexpected kindness,” Xoron spoke. His voice was still warm yet strong and slightly intimidating. It felt as if there was more than simple sound to it. “I must admit, I like him.”

  “Get in line,” Jocasta replied and Xoron smiled. He looked down the path and back at Jocasta.

  “What say you and I just go and get a drink?”

  “For what?” Jocasta smiled, “… to get your courage up or my standards down?”

  Xoron chuckled before the two of them said ‘both’ in unison. Student and Teacher shared a laugh before Xoron’s hand found Jocasta’s shoulder. She stopped laughing, staring into his eyes.

  “Xoron Rexur Dragonne, son of Lydia, the one and only child of Alphexeous. A Black Assassin who knows how to do the sticks. And you have a sense of humor that, fortunately, isn’t homicidal.”

  “Yes, I get that all the time. I credit that to my mother.” Xoron allowed his robes to fall to the floor and Jocasta’s senses took a full inventory of the man; his stance, his demeanor, the clothes, and his armour. The sword pommel and matching blaster! She started to speak twice, but did not know how to give her thoughts voice. “Old,” he said. “I am very old. Older than your precious Nugar, but I haven’t crested five digits just yet… thus, only the hint of gray. Yes, you did your homework and I did mine!” As he turned to his right, Jocasta was allowed to see a gray streak in his long, thick black hair. She could feel a sense of pride coming from the man, but she decided it was best not to ask him about it.

  “Definitely stylish,” she remarked, “… but what is a son of Dragonne doing here?”

  “Good, you can be distracted, but not for long. We all trip; gives walking a suitable challenge. Walk with me, Starblazer.” Xoron turned and started down the path. Jocasta could see the floor where they were headed was covered with white smoke… but it was not smoke… it was essence. “There are no more tests.”

  “Don’t lie,” Jocasta quickly requested and Xoron chuckled.

  “As you wish. There are no more tests coming from the Star-Wing Corps. All the grades are in and you passed. You were Elite material before you arrived.”

  “Thank you, kot-dammit,” Jocasta pumped her fist. “Finally, some freakin’ recognition.” Xoron chuckled and Jocasta took hold of her actions. “Sorry.”

  “No need for apologies,” Xoron assured. “To explain, when Spade gave you that blade sliver, he was actually giving you your diploma, but his respect for the Star-Wing would not allow him to demand a status for you.

  “Here’s an understanding, Silverwing. It’s been several ages since Spade has even seen the Rims. He was created in another place, another culture… that is his home. He and my grandfather hardly know anything of the Rims anymore. Hell, it wasn’t even called the Rims when Alphexeous left. Respect is given to the both of them, because it would be fatal foolishness not to! The same follows for Rex and the rest of his brood. The things they uncovered becoming the men and women history praises sustain some of us to this day and time. But as time changes, so does space, and so has this place we call the Rims.”

  “This is one helluva wind up, Cavern,” Jocasta commented. “How’d you get that name anyway?”

  “It is what my opponents feel like they’re flying in when they go against me; an ever-constricting cavern.”

  “Sweet,” Jocasta sighed. “Did you give yourself that name?”

  “No. The Commandant did when I graduated... four or five Commandants before Swan. Things were different then. You didn’t get a name until after you proved yourself.”

  “Definitely need to go back to the old way of doing things there,” Jocasta remarked.

  “I’ll pass that on to Swan,” Xoron said. “And I’m going to ask you not to perform any violent actions. Don’t bother telling me you’re not armed. If you aren’t it would only tarnish the image I have of you.”

  “Consider the silver to be shining bright then,” Jocasta shared.

  “Before you take this next step–”

  “You know, I could have saved you a trip and a speech, cave man,” Jocasta said with a smirk. “Star-Wing is a part of what I am… and not that big a part, actually. I won’t be answering each and every newsletter, and I won’t be attending Star-Wing functions… unless it’s a serious fight and I’m not pressed to be anywhere else. I might visit Sky Stone when I’m in the Territories, but there’s a good chance I can make a stop at Black Gate and not even cross over.

  “I’m not trying to belittle what’s done here,” Jocasta explained. “… and I’m not looking down my nose at any of the members. But in my book, flying all damn day and not getting anywhere is just nut-crunching insane!” Xoron reached out his gloved hand and took hold of the wall to keep himself upright as he cackled. Jocasta looked around to make sure no one could see them. Still laughing, Xoron turned to put his back against the cave wall. “Don’t get me wrong, someone’s gotta mind the store! But you come at me with an apron that’s got a name tag on it, you might as well be drawing down on me!”

  Xoron laughed a bit longer, wiping a tear from his eye. It had been a while since he had laughed so hard. He nodded as he coughed and cleared his throat. “You’re right. I could have saved myself a trip and a speech. But then I would’ve missed that line. I pity everyone we love that isn’t here right now. That was funny!” Xoron came away from the wall, reaching for Jocasta’s hand. She stepped to meet him part of the way and clutched his forearm. “So, sister Star-Wing, what is your path?”

  “Cavern, I’m a pirate. Being a Star-Wing is just a means of better affording the hazards of exploration and procurement.”

  “Shortsighted, but you’re still young,” Xoron remarked. “Have a fulfilling life, JoJo Starblazer. This one has ended. Time to begin another.”

  “How many times does a body have to do this start-over crap?”

  “For you, I’d say at least twice more.”

  “Okay, let’s take it from the top. Brother Cavern, I’m a pirate. Commander of my own ship and crew, a Star-Wing, and a dedicated ally of Nulaki Conadier, Tynaum Krensteele, Thandace Orgen, Oedelorana Sylgarr, Isaiah Gundryss, and Flaps.”

  “Sister Silverwing, I am a Soul Fighter like my mother before me and my grandfather before her. I am also a Star-Wing, rank of Rear Admiral, and I am considered by some to be the father of the Black Assassins.” Xoron leaned in close to whisper, “Between you and me, it was something that Alphexeous had going before he departed for the Far Star. I just brought it back when the Rims were declared. Lots of fallout around that time.”

  “And now I have someone who can clue me in on how to stump my First Mate,” Jocasta said. “Thank you for the trust. So tell me–”

  “No, not all Black Assassins are Soul Fighters,” Xoron stated. “I’d say we make up about a third of a percent.”

  “And here I’ve met two,” Jocasta thought, releasing her grip.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now you can go. I’ve got an essence to meet and all.”

  “Wouldn’t want to keep you from anything,” Xoron said as he slowly faded from sight. Jocasta stood motionless for a moment and then she nodded.

  “Yeah, he did that on purpose.”

  Turning to walk down the path, Jocasta found that she did not have to go far to find her meeting place. Suddenly, there was no walkway under her, just a simple cave floor. There was no path behind her, only a cave wall. In front of her stood a creature that looked at her with compassion, hope and understanding.

  “I so should have put it together before now,” she whispered.

  “Yes, you should have,” the creature replied, smiling at the young woman’s initial reaction to seeing the source of the essence she had been feeling. “You allowed your mind to take the
title ‘The Eye’ to create an assumed form.” She did not move from her curled and reclined position, following Jocasta’s eyes as the Truebreed woman looked upon her tails, her legs, her scaled body, her feathered wings and her seven heads. “But what else would Dragons be guarding with such conviction, young one… other than another Dragon?!”

  ** b *** t *** o *** r **

  Tensions ran high in the courtyard, but that was nothing new for Ivus Straum. He was, however, more accustomed to being the figure causing the conflict, leaving his many assistants and advisors to sort matters out. Upon this occasion, he was looking at facing off against one of the most notorious military strategists in The Territories over an incident that did not involve a single citizen of his barony.

  “Something told me to attend this meeting inebriated,” Ivus thought as he watched Military Minister Ballosh try to reason with the legendary Swan. “As long as I’ve been at this governance thing, you’d think I would at least listen to myself!”

  “Commander Ravinguez,” Ballosh said, using a tone that implied the existence of a long-standing relationship with the woman, “… perhaps we need to be more considerate of all sides of this issue. We have seen the transmissions shared by Field Marshal Plarzo and JoJo Starblazer.” Sarshata put her hand to her mouth as she snickered. “And what you seem to find amusing is a pressing matter for your Governor and your barony!”

  “What a season I’m having,” Sarshata said as she breathed out hard. “I have a so-called Baron from the Rims coming to me to recruit the Star-Wing Corps into his forming armada. I’m not familiar with the region he claims to rule, and he had great difficulty understanding that the Star-Wing Corps isn’t a mercenary band to be beckoned by credit or a voice of authority. So, after I tell him no, he then pivots to trying to get an invite to a court of the Dragons out of me. And now this situation on top of it.” Sarshata looked at Field Marshal Plarzo and she could see how the Delbred man had come to acquire such a reputation. He had the ‘thousand-meter stare’ and the stance of a man who had seen more than his fair share of combat. “With all due respect, Field Marshal, Baron, Minister, I must once again remind everyone that I am not a citizen of the White Barony, nor is the Star-Wing Corps an arm of the baronial militia. If at any time the Baron and the powers that be wish to remove us, they know where we are. All I ask is–”