Alliances

by S. Usher Evans

  Tauron's death was paid for with her money.

  She was responsible.

  If she'd just known about her inheritance, maybe she could have kept him from taking it.

  But she didn't, and Tauron was dead, and it was her fault.

  Everything was always her fault.

  "You were born."

  That's what her mother had said, wasn't it?

  Maybe if she hadn't been born, Tauron would still be alive.

  After all, if she never existed, there never would have been an inheritance available for Jukin to steal.

  Sostas would have picked Jukin to be his assistant, and Jukin never would have decided to become a U-POL officer.

  Fever rushed to her cheeks as the room heated up around her and she felt a rumble beneath her feet. She breathed in the pungent odor of sulfur, so familiar at this point, so warranted. Maybe the Great Creator was here to take her back to Leveman's Vortex.

  She deserved to burn in Plethegon, after all.

  Someone had grabbed her by the arms and yanked her hard to the floor as lights danced in front of her face. She could see Sage talking to her, but she was unable to hear anything but muffled words. Something about the bank's security arriving faster than he anticipated.

  He was looking at her. How could he look at her?

  Tauron raised him. The crew was his family.

  She was the reason why all of that was taken from him.

  Sage was pulling her across the room, she guessed, but her whole body was numb. He was talking, but all she could hear was the terrible voice in her head—the one which had been quiet for so long, the hateful voice that was telling her that she was a bad, evil soul damned to burn in Plethegon, no matter what Vel might think.

  The sulfur smell was so strong that she began coughing. Her eyes widened as the ground rumbled beneath her, and she knew she was going to see cracks soon. Her eyes began to water either out of fear or pain or because of the thick smoke that was filling her lungs. The ground rumbled again, and someone had pressed her against a cold metal cabinet.

  She could hear yelling, something about coming out with their hands up.

  She should just go turn herself in and let them shoot her.

  She could feel a tug on her shirt and saw a pair of wide, green, almond-shaped eyes, filled with fear and worry. Lizbeth was talking to her, but she couldn't process the words. Ganon had rejoined them as well, his dark skin even darker from soot and ash. He was talking to someone behind her.

  A flash of light filled her vision and someone grabbed her and pushed her downwards. She banged her head on the floor, and her mind snapped back into full speed.

  They had been caught by the Universal Bank security forces, who had swarmed on the roof and in the stairways, effectively blocking their exit. The security forces were lobbing flash bombs and gas canisters into the room to try and smoke them out—or worse.

  "Shit, these dicks don't play around!" Ganon said as another flash bomb went off over their heads. "We need to bail now."

  "How are we going to get out of here?" Lizbeth said. "They've got us surrounded!"

  "We've gotten out of worse scrapes than this." Razia finally registered that the weight she had been feeling on her back was not psychological, but Sage, who had thrown a protective arm around her shoulders.

  "Get off," she mumbled, shoving him off.

  "Fifteen armed guards with more on their way," Sage said, pulling out his mini-computer. "Hey, you bastards, when are you planning to get us out of here?"

  "Working on it, boss!" came the voice on the other end.

  "You still got that extraction magnet?" Sage asked, tugging at her utility belt until his fingers clasped around the magnet. He tugged at it several times to make sure it was secure around her waist.

  "Oh Leveman's, not again." Her words were drowned out by the sound of a huge, building-rocking explosion. When the smoke cleared, there was a giant hole in the outer wall, gaping to the outside.

  "Go!" Ganon cried, half-dragging Lizbeth towards the hole.

  Razia let out a cry of despair as Sage pulled her by her arm towards the hole. And as much as she didn't want to, she followed him past the ledge, dropping like a stone.

  Before she even had time to think, she heard the click of the magnet against the line that had fallen from Sage's ship, hovering above.

  "I thought you said you couldn't get the ship through the radars," Lizbeth cried, clinging with both arms and legs to Ganon, who didn't look too upset to be in that position.

  "Oh, we don't care when we're leaving," Ganon said, as they were pulled upwards. "Let 'em know we were here. Give the boss a bounty boost!"

  Razia felt Sage's eyes on her, waiting for her trademark scoff about his own bounty standing. But Razia's eyes were on the ground disappearing beneath them, her thoughts wondering why the Great Creator continued to torture her.

  ***

  "Did you kids have a fun time!" Sobal cheered as Razia hoisted herself onto the open hatch that she had leapt from just under an hour before. It seemed like an eternity ago. She had been so angry at herself for thinking she was going to burn in Plethegon, and now it seemed as though it was just foreboding.

  One of the three huge men that Sage employed as his bodyguards was helping Lizbeth back onto the ship, while another extended a hand to Ganon, who brushed it away and pulled himself up. Sage was the last one to climb aboard, ordering one of the beefy men to tell Keal, who was piloting the ship in Ganon's absence, to get them as far away from this planet as fast as they could.

  "You okay?" Sage said to Razia.

  "Fine," she muttered. "I've done magnetic pullbacks—"

  "No, I mean…about finding out about Tauron," Sage said more gently.

  She felt eyes on her and did her best to shake it off.

  "It’s fine," Razia lied, standing up. “Don’t want to talk about it."

  "You looked pretty shocked," Sage said, reaching a hand out to her.

  She batted it away with gusto. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

  "Well, I do," Lizbeth said, checking her appearance in a reflective cabinet. "Jukin paid five billion credits to Congressional Minister McDougall? What in Leveman's is that about?"

  "Tauron's…" Razia trailed off.

  "Yeah, but besides that," Lizbeth said, waving Razia off. "That's a lot of money just to kill one man—"

  "Lizbeth, don’t," Sage said warningly.

  "Oh, so you think this is just another break in the case?" Razia whispered, anger punctuating every word. "Yet another twist in your little investigation?"

  "Yes, I…" Lizbeth trailed off when she finally sensed Razia's anger.

  "He stole from me to pay off…" Razia couldn't even finish the thought. She could feel the lump growing in her throat and was dangerously close to breaking down in tears. But she would be damned if she cried in front of Sage's crew.

  "But why the Congressional Minister?" Lizbeth asked. "Don't you think it's odd—"

  "Who cares!" Razia roared, taking everyone by surprise. "Who cares? Tauron is dead and….God in Leveman's…it was my money."

  "So?" Lizbeth replied.

  "So?" Razia stammered. "So?"

  "So he stole your money, but that doesn't mean you had anything to do with it!" Lizbeth said. "If anything, wouldn't he have paid off General State?"

  "He killed Tauron!" Razia screamed, her words bouncing off the walls in the room.

  "And that had nothing to do with you," Lizbeth replied. "God in Leveman's Vortex, quit playing the victim!"

  "V-victim?" Razia sputtered.

  "Lizbeth, seriously, just leave it alone," Sage warned, interjecting before the situation got even more out of hand. "You don't understand."

  "No, she needs to hear this," Lizbeth snapped. "Everyone walks on eggshells around you because they're afraid of sending you off the edge of some abyss. Leveman's, even Harms is afraid of pissing you off!"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Seriously, that is
enough." Sage growled.

  "No," Lizbeth snarled at him. "Enough is when she quits acting like a damned child. What she needs is a swift kick in the ass."

  Razia smiled icily. "How's this for a kick in the ass: you're on your own from now on."

  "Oh am I?" Lizbeth laughed.

  "Yeah, I'm done," Razia growled. "I'm done digging into whatever in Leveman's is going on. I'm done sneaking around with you and getting shot at. I'm done doing things that could very well get me kicked out of the web! Or worse."

  "Because you're doing so well as the laughing stock of the pirate web," Lizbeth retorted.

  "At least my only move isn't to sleep with pirates in order to get them to talk with me."

  "Enough!" Sage bellowed, stepping between the two before they came to blows. "Everyone just needs to take a five minute break and calm down."

  "Get sucked," Razia hissed at him. "And take me back to my ship. Now."

  "Yes, Sage," Lizbeth said, "take her back to her ship. Keep coddling her like she's a priceless doll that will break if you let her make a mistake."

  "He doesn't coddle me!" Razia seethed.

  "He jumped out of a damned ship for you after you threw a temper tantrum!" Lizbeth replied.

  "I didn't ask for him—"

  "You're a piece of work, you know that?" Lizbeth shook her head. "Everyone comes to your rescue and you just act like you have your shit together. Well, you know, you don't fool me, Lyssa Peate!"

  Razia was about to fire back when she heard Ganon speak.

  "P…Peate? As in…Jukin Peate?"

  Razia became acutely aware that the small room they were standing in was filled with the entirety of Sage's crew; all of whom were staring at her with their mouths open.

  "Shit," Lizbeth whispered, her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Lyss, I'm so…I didn't mean…"

  Razia stared at her, unable to speak. She felt exposed again, the same way she'd felt jumping out of this ship not even an hour ago.

  But this time there was no one to lean back into.

  "Okay, yes," Sage said with authority. "She's Jukin's sister. But if any of you tell a soul, you will piss blood for a month." His eyes alit with fury as he dared them to contradict him. "Trust me, he didn't do her any favors."

  Razia suddenly felt a surge of anger towards everyone and everything. She just wanted to hurt something, to make something else feel the pain and the hurt that she felt.

  So she turned to the only thing within reach.

  "You…stupid…bitch!" Razia growled, lunging towards Lizbeth. She might've killed the other woman had Sage not yanked her back, a firm grip on her flailing arms, her hands so eager to wrap around Lizbeth's neck.

  "Ganon, get her out of here!" Sage said, struggling to keep Razia away from Lizbeth as she kicked and clawed and struggled against his grasp on her. "Lock her in a room somewhere and get us back to D-882 so we can put a few systems between these two!"

  "I hope you burn in Plethegon!" Razia screamed as Lizbeth tore out of the room with Ganon and the door slammed shut behind them.

  She took a few deep angry breaths as she stared at the closed door. Her whole body was shaking.

  "Lyss," Sage whispered. "I know she didn't mean it."

  She clenched her teeth together and stared stonily ahead, unwilling to show any more weakness than she had already displayed. Her head began to thud with a dull ache as the weight of everything settled on her shoulders.

  "My crew won't tell a soul, I promise," Sage continued behind her. "I trust these guys with my life, and they'd never…they know better. I promise you, they won't."

  She took another deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing all of her energy on trying to keep the tears from leaking down her face. She wouldn't cry, not over this.

  Not in front of Sage.

  Not again.

  "Just get me back to my ship," Razia whispered.

  ***

  She had just finished her last exam, and she was feeling lighter than air. Her things were packed and she had shuttle ticket to the nearest transport station, where she'd hop another and then another until she reached D-882. Tauron would be there eventually; he always was. He liked to make her work to find him, but she welcomed the challenge. And this time—the very last time she would be leaving the Academy for D-882—well, she had hoped he would make it really difficult to find him, as a "welcome to the pirate web" sort of present.

  She remembered wondering if Tauron had already called Dissident to tell him to put her in the web. He'd promised her he'd toss in a few credits and his name, but she'd have to make her own way, just like Sage when he finally decided to break out on his own.

  She remembered the way she had her entire life planned out at that moment.

  Then she saw the news, playing a live feed from the half-finished prison on D-882.

  Jukin Peate had captured Tauron Ball and his crew.

  And they were to be executed.

  There was no jury, no trial. Simply capture and kill.

  It was going to send a message.

  She knew she needed to tear her eyes away, to get out of the Academy and get to him, to figure out some way to break him out of that prison on D-882. She had to go help him. After everything he had done for her, she had to.

  But all she could do was stand in the middle of the hallway, staring at the too-small screen, watching the execution of the only man who'd ever really loved her.

  The rope went around his neck.

  The hood covered his face.

  The floor gave way.

  He was gone.

  And it was her fault.

  She swallowed the tears, opening her eyes to the residential planet. The sounds of birds and idle chatter on the patio of this coffee shop replaced the sickening sounds in her head. She had no idea what the name of this planet was or how she even got here, but she had been here so long that the waitress had stopped coming by to ask if she wanted a refill on her cold coffee. She would have preferred something stronger but couldn't gather the strength to get up from the table.

  She wanted to forget everything that she now knew about herself.

  Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his resolute face on that pixelated screen, the last time she would ever lay eyes on him. She heard the sickening sound of the floor giving out from under him.

  The spectacle of it all.

  Paid for with her credits.

  She'd often wondered if Tauron's soul had made it past the Arch, or if his soul had been damned to burn in Plethegon. He was a pirate, but he was so...good. And kind to her. He gave her a home when no one else wanted her. That had to be worth something to the Great Creator.

  Even if she wasn't worth anything to Him or to anyone else.

  Her mother hated her.

  Her father had abandoned her.

  And the one person—the only person in the universe to ever care whether she lived or died…paid for with her credits…

  She lay her head on her arms, staring through the small holes in the wrought iron table. She couldn't close her eyes, or they would fill with visions of pixelated faces. So she stared through the hole, opening and closing one eye and then the other, mesmerized by the way the holes seemed to shift. It was a simple effort, and nobody would be killed when she did it.

  She heard the chair in front of her scraping away and she didn't have to even lift her head to know who had come.

  "Break up with your girlfriend?" she asked, her voice sounding odd as she tried to pretend she wasn’t a mess.

  "Are you okay?" Vel placed his hand on top of hers.

  "No," she whispered, opening both eyes to look through the slits in the table.

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "No."

  "Lyssa, come on," Vel said, not letting go of her hand. "Just because that money was earmarked for you doesn't mean it's your fault it was stolen. If anything, he would have stolen the money from one of our other brothers."

  "No, he stole it from me because Sostas chose
me instead of him," Lyssa rasped, not lifting her head. "Jukin left the Academy because Sostas chose me instead of him. Jukin wanted to make a name as a great crusader for justice because of..." she trailed off. "Mother was right. I never should have been born...I just screw everything up by existing.”

  "Lyss," Vel said, squeezing her hand. "I thought we were past all this nonsense?"

  She didn't respond.

  "Remember?" Vel said, shaking her hand a bit. "You led us to the Arch. You never would have been able to do that if the Great Creator—"

  "Then why did He take away the only thing in this entire universe that ever made me happy?" Lyssa barked, snapping her head up to look at him for the first time. She was sickened by the way he watched her lovingly. "Why me? Why does everyone else get to be happy and...and I don't."

  "Because you don't let yourself be happy," Vel replied gently but with edge in his voice. "You obviously cared a lot about him; you trusted him. And you haven't trusted another person since, me included!"

  "I trust you," Lyssa mumbled, unable to meet his eyes.

  "No you don't. Because if you did, you wouldn't have been jealous that I had a new girlfriend. If you trusted me, you wouldn't be sitting here telling me that you still think you're a bad person, and that you're damned to Plethegon even though I told you otherwise. If you trusted me,"—he reached across the table and took her hand—"you would tell me what you saw last year."

  "I can't," she whispered, anxious at the thought of sharing something so personal.

  "Well, you can't go through life pushing people away and expect to find the same kind of safe haven you found in Tauron," Vel said, releasing her hand and sitting back. "To get that kind of connection again, you're going to have to trust that maybe not everyone is the enemy. Maybe you'll lose someone again, but that's no excuse to shut everyone out completely, especially the people who obviously care about you."

  They sat in silence as the minutes dragged on.

  "I saw myself," Lyssa whispered, barely audible.

  "What?"

  "At Leveman's Vortex, I saw myself," she said, barely moving her lips. "I saw this girl who everyone had abandoned, everyone had kicked around. And I realized that...I'd done it too. I-I abandoned myself.