by Frank Carey
She cuffed him as he got up. The three of them headed out of the complex and into the station proper.
"Lady Craal is here, on-station?" Crista asked as they headed to the housing section.
"Yes, the suit fighting finals are coming up, and she's a big fan," Trent replied.
"So, Trent, when were you going to tell me you were a scion of House Cadiz? I mean, really, I already showed you mine."
Bobby began to choke while pointing at Christa's tail hanging over her shoulder. She grabbed it and put it back in her belt before Trent could see it."
"I didn't think it was that important. Tralaska is lousy with disowned sons. Hell, we could form a FirstContact group and call it 'Scorned.'"
"What did you do to garner this scorn?"
"Christa!" Bobby admonished.
"It's okay, Bobby," Trent said. "I wouldn't take part in a ritual execution of one of Mother's enemies. It was perfectly legal under Tralaskan law, but I couldn't stomach killing someone for something I did."
"Excuse me?" Christa said, her eyes wide.
"I hacked into Mother's database and pulled several sensitive files."
"Why?" she asked in shock.
"I wanted out of the family, and I thought I could use them as leverage. Instead, I got to watch my mother personally murder my girlfriend. I haven't talked to Sienna since, and I don't plan to start now. I got you two in, but it will be up to you to get us out."
They walked into the best hotel on the station. Hell, it was the best one in the sector. The manager walked up. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"Trent Smith and party to see the Lady Sienna. We have an appointment."
"Very good, sir, let me just check... Oh my, Master Trent, I didn't recognize you. This way, please," the manager said as he led the three of them to a hidden elevator to the penthouse level which jutted out of the station’s hull like a spike. "Here we are, sir," the manager said as the doors opened.
Christa took out a hundred-credit chit and handed it and a business card to the manager. "Thank you for your service. If we're not out in thirty minutes, call the number on this card and tell the person on the other end, 'Plark.' They'll understand."
"Milady?"
"Do as she ask," Trent said without looking at the manager.
"Yes, sir," the manager replied as he stepped back into the car and headed back down.
"What happens if he makes that call?" Trent asked while walking to the end of the corridor where two large beings stood.
"We'll have two Elf Marine Expeditionary Force Teams here in eight hours. They will tear this hotel apart to find my body or me. You mother will then be destitute in forty-eight hours unless I'm found, or I call them off."
"Really?"
"Really. Unlike Tralaskans, family means everything to elves. Look up my grandmother on the League database and you'll see what I'm talking about."
Trent smiled. "You're kinda cute when you get all protective," he said while catching her off-guard. They stopped in front of a double-door flanked by two Katalan guards. Christa trilled at them. They bowed in response before the one on the left knocked.
"Come!" a woman said from inside. The guard on the right opened the door to let the three in.
"Princess Christa of House Irithyl, welcome to my humble home away from home," A tall, Tralaskan woman said as she walked over and shook hands with Christa Tralaskan style. Christa noticed, immediately, the resemblance between Lady Sienna and Trent, right down to the auburn hair. Christa also noticed how Sienna made a point of ignoring the boys.
"Thank you, Lady Sienna. Who is your decorator?" she asked as her mother and grandmother taught her.
For the next five minutes, the two women talked incidentals. Finally, Christa decided to liven up the party. "I don't know if you've met my brother, Prince Robert, and my employee, Trent Smith," she said as she swept her hand in the direction of her menfolk.
Sienna looked shocked. "Prince Robert? Your Highness, I was not aware you are a member of House Irithyl."
"I seem to have forgotten to tell your son, Trent. My bad," Bobby said while taking the Lady's hand in his and kissing it's back.
"Apology unnecessary but accepted," she said while still avoiding looking at her son. "What can I do for you, Princess?"
"I am now the prime investor in the suit fighting team--what is its name, Trent?"
"Team Luciana, milady," he said. Christa watched as a deep frown formed on Sienna's face
"I am now prime investor in Team Luciana, and it has come to my attention that employees of yours have been borrowing parts and not restocking our supplies. I realize that this is probably just an oversight, but I am forced to bring the matter to your attention due to the costs involved--Trent?"
"One million credits, milady," he calmly replied. Christa's hearts skipped a beat when she heard the amount.
"I'm sorry, but I am not aware of any employee of mine borrowing parts from Team Luciana or any team for that matter."
"I see," Christa said. "Trent, do you know the identities of any of these borrowers?"
"Merta, Krell, Sampson, and Locke.
"And you saw these four taking parts?" Sienna asked while glancing at one of the gentleman standing off to the side of the room.
Trent glanced at him as well. "Yes, on several occasions. The last time a theft occurred, Merta and Krell took the parts while Sampson and Locke held me down to watch. This was after the four of them beat me almost senseless."
"He lies, mistress," one of the men near the door yelled.
Before Trent could respond, a woman burst through the door and fired a weapon at Trent, hitting him in the arm. In the blink of an eye, Bobby disarmed the guards before putting himself between Trent and the others in the room. Meanwhile, Christa disarmed the woman, picking her up and holding her off the ground with her tail. Hearing the commotion, the two Katalens rushed in, unsure what to do when they saw what was going on.
"How dare you!" Christa yelled as the girl's eyes began to flutter. "Is this an example of Tralaskan hospitality? You shoot one who is under my protection?"
"Stop!" Trent yelled as Bobby tried to staunch the flow of blood from his wound. "Don't hurt her, Please, Christa, just let her go."
Christa dropped the girl like a sack of potatoes. She then disarmed the weapon before throwing it to Lady Sienna. "This will not be forgotten!" she said while backing toward her brother and Trent.
"Sis, we need to get him to the infirmary, NOW!" Bobby said as he used his shirt to tie a tourniquet around Trent's arm."
Christa ran over and helped Bobby pick up Trent and half drag him to the door while Bobby held one of the guards' weapons on the room, having disarmed the other one. As they approached, Bobby yelled something in Katalan which caused the two Katalans consternation. They looked at Sienna for guidance. She waved them to allow Christa and her party to leave, which the three did quickly.
"Stay with us, Trent," Bobby said calmly once they were heading down in the elevator. "How about you tell us who shot you?"
"My sister, Kimbra. She thinks I killed Luciana. They were best friends, almost sisters," Trent slurred.
When they hit the bottom floor, Christa ordered the manager to get them an ambulance. In minutes, they were at the infirmary where Trent was whisked off by a pair of nurses, leaving Bobby and Christa to figure out what happened.
Chapter 7 - Suit Fighting
"That was his sister?" Bobby said as he got the two of them tea from a cart. "Hell, I didn't know he even had a sister."
"Did you know he named your team after his dead girlfriend, you know the one his mother killed?"
"Yes... No... I knew he named it after his girlfriend, but I didn't know she was dead, and I certainly didn't know about his mom doing the execution. Damn, what is wrong with these people?"
"I don't know," Christa said. "I thought the mercs were bad," she said referring to the people who kidnapped Shenda and Aerith so many years ago. She stopped when her commlink rang. S
he looked at it. "It’s Mom," she said as she walked away to take the call. Christa returned a few minutes later with a shocked look on her face. She sat down and stared at the wall.
"Hey, what's gotten into you?" Bobby asked as he took her a fresh cup of tea.
Elflings love tea.
She took a sip. "It seems that you and I are now uncle and aunt to a pair of identical twins."
"What? Shenda gave birth. That is so cool"
"Sit."
Bobby sat.
Christa told him verbatim what Marta had told her.
Bobby took the tea from her and downed it in one swallow. "That's impossible. Shenda destroyed Cleth and a demon is the only thing that could explain what those two kids did."
"Not necessarily. Aunt Losi thinks it may have something to do with our unique DNA and its reaction to Chasm's unique DNA.
"Okay, let's say she's right. How did the kids off the mercs?"
Christa got up and poured two more teas. Handing one to Bobby, she said, "They don't know. There isn't a mark in or on the mercs bodies. It is as if they simply died. They only reason they think Ashley and Grayson are involved is the eye thing."
"Chasm got any idea about what happened?"
"No."
"Damn. Too bad we couldn't pull that trick on Atmar," he said, referring to their father's clone brother.
"He did help in saving us from Cleth when he persuaded Muntz to give up the colocator code."
"Yeah, there is that. I still don't trust him," Bobby said as he took over the pacing. "Did Mom say where they were taking the kids?"
"Shenda, Chasm, the kids, and the crew of Shenda's ship, the LTV Marta McMurphy, are on a six-month long run of the outer stations. Hopefully, SpecPro will lose interest in the kids and just stop bothering them.”
"How's Mom taking all this?"
"Surprisingly well. She did mention one odd thing, though."
"What?"
Christa relayed details about the dream Marta had while holding the kids.
"Damn! That must have been a shock considering how attached Mom is to Dad. It must have been like a Maranta Five flashback."
"She did seem to be a little shook up, but I think she'll be OK. So, tell me about suit fighting."
Bobby sat back in his seat. "We use specially designed telepresence suits to perform gladiator-type battles in a ring. The suits are patterned after video games from back in the day that gave each suit a maximum number of attribute points. You have strength points, agility points, speed points, and survivability points which can only add up to the max for that class."
"So you could have a suit that was really strong, but be slow, clumsy, and have a glass jaw?"
"Exactly. You can move up in class until you hit ultimate. Ultimates fight on a nearby asteroid equipped with state-or-the-art holocameras to transmit the fight to a matching arena on the station. The other classes fight on-station."
"Why?"
"To protect the living. Ultimate fights can get a little violent."
"OK, so how are these suits 'specially designed'"
"Instead of using just a headband-style transceiver unit like the ones Dad designed, we use a headband in conjunction with limb sensors which are mounted along the arms and legs to better pick-up nerve impulses. This allows the operator much finer control than when just using the headband. The major drawback it the high bandwidth needed to convey the data."
"And you have just one of these suits?"
"We have two. The one I was working on is our tournament unit--Brenda--that has been custom fitted to Trent. The other is a general purpose training unit--Brawler--which allows Trent to get a workout without the danger of damaging Brenda."
"Why does it take three people to run Brenda? Dad and Mom regularly use suits solo."
"Brenda is far more complex than anything Dad has brought home, while Mom's suits are designed to have the pilot aboard. As engineer, I am responsible for keeping all of Brenda's systems balanced while Trent is controlling her. The computer jockey must maintain dataflow under some pretty intense situations."
"Interesting and it sounds like something right up your alley, though I'm surprised you're not the driver."
"I'd like to drive, but Trent's skill is incredible. You should see him run our balance-test routines. It would make your jaw drop."
"I bet it would," Christa said with a twinkle in her eye. "What's Trent's story, other than he's a disowned son of Tralaska whose sister has a death wish against him?"
"Same old story. Rich kid who wants to find his own way in the world, but pisses his family off in the process. Tralaskan society can be tough on the males, especially halflings like him. Tralaska seems to have it against humans in general. Oh, and they don't like elves and really dislike elflings."
"Really? I thought the dis they showed you was just a terrible mistake. Do you really think his mother is capable of killing someone in cold blood?"
"I think his mother--and sister--could eat their own young. I try to keep away from the Tralaskan teams altogether. Frankly, they scare me."
"But you could take them. Hell, with Mom's training, you could take them if you were full-on human."
"I don't mind a fair fight, but I hate the vengeance thing. You look at them wrong and they swear a vengeance against you. They even have a commlink app for tracking them."
Christa couldn't help laughing, but stopped when Bobby showed her the program running on his commlink. "Shit! You're not kidding! That's so whacked!"
"Welcome to my world."
A doctor wheeled Trent out into the waiting room in a wheelchair, his arm wrapped and in a sling. "Mr. Smith will be as good as new in a few weeks. We've given him a round of nanobot-based nerve knitters which will put his damaged brachial nerve back to rights."
Bobby just stared as Christa helped the wounded Trent out of the chair. "Hey, moron, get over here and give us a hand," Christa growled.
"No, no, no! This can't be happening!" Bobby said, his eyes wide and voice filled with panic. Doc, can he run a suit? The quarter-finals are coming up."
"Sorry, Lad," The Alturan doc said as he used a tentacle to hand a clipboard to Christa. "Your friend will have to sit things out until the nanobots finish their work in a few weeks."
"Sorry, Bro," Trent said while patting Bobby on the shoulder. "I guess that's a wrap."
Christa wasn't ready to quit yet, but she was too tired and hungry to think straight. "How about I treat you two to dinner?"
"Why not," Bobby said as he got up and helped Christa get Trent out of the infirmary. "I wonder if there are any scows hiring greenhorns..."
Chapter 8 - A Call for Arms
I finished eviscerating my fifth bot when the shop's commlink unit rang. "I'll get it," I told Harmon as he peered into the innards of a bot using a large hand magnifier.
"Thanks," he replied while looking over the top of the glass.
I picked up the handset. "Hello, this is Marta..." It was Christa. After pleasantries, she proceeded to tell me about her and Bobby's latest adventure. I stopped her when she got to the part about the Trent being shot by his sister. I wasn't surprised; Tralaskans follow the Hatfield and McCoy school of social interaction. After assuring me that she and Bobby were unharmed, she said she had to go but would call me later.
My kids were anything but boring.
"That was Christa. She's on Tryton Station with Bobby," I told Harm. He nearly dropped the bot he was working on.
"Tryton! That's a Tralaskan-run station, and Tralaskans don't like elves. What the hell are they doing at Tryton?"
"Wait a minute, Jason and Nebulon Thurgood like us, and they're Tralaskan."
"That's different...somehow. Don't try to confuse me."
"Honey, you know that I don't have to try, now do I?"
"Fine. Why are those two at Tryton?"
I told him what Christa told me.
He put down the bot, got up and went to the fridge where he retrieved two frosted glasses and a pit
cher of ice tea. He came back and poured us both a cold one. "I didn't realize Bobby was having such a hard time adapting to the post-Cleth situation," he said.
I knew my husband. He was taking this way too personal. "Sweety, this happens with people. Bobby will find his way, I promise. Anyway, I think suit fighting is perfect for him. It lets him make good use of his physical and mental skills and training."
He came over and took me in his arms. "Are you sure?" he asked as I snuggled into his chest. I could do this all day.
"I’m sure. He's smart, a skilled fighter, and he has his father's hearts. He’ll be fine."
"OK, I guess I’ll just turn-off my Tralaskan warnings."
"I'm curious, why do you have a thing against Tralaskans?"
"Jurzik is, or was, a Tralaskan. He was trying to make it big in his family and I got in the way."
I froze. Shit! "Harm, I am so sorry," I said as I remembered the story about how Jurzik double-crossed Harm and shot him, leaving him for dead. No wonder the elf has a thing about Tralaskans and their families.
He shook his head then kissed the top of mine. "That was a long time ago. I shouldn't hold the actions of a few members against an entire race."
"You sure you're OK?" I asked.
"I'm fine, I promise. You know, I could use a break right now," he said as he raised an eyebrow.
My husband has the best damn ideas.
###
I think I wore the old elf out. I lay in his arm and listened to him snore while enjoying his body heat. Elves run a little warmer than humans, which is why cats love them. Right now, I was doing a pretty good impersonation of a content cat, right down to the purring. The commlink rang just as I was dozing off.
Careful not to wake him, I extracted myself from Harm's arm, grabbed a robe, and headed out into the hallway, grabbing the handset on the way out. While gently closing the door behind me, I activated the unit. "Go for McMurphy," I said while robing-up with my free hand. It was Christa. I listened as she skipped the pleasantries and dove straight into the meat of her problem. By the time she finished--listening to her was like drinking from a fire hose--I had to sit down and take stock of reality.
