Chaos Station 01 - Chaos Station

by Kelly Jensen

  He’s your friend. Your lover.

  The quickest way to disable Ingesson flashed through Zed’s mind. The engineer wouldn’t have a chance—he wasn’t extensively combat-trained and he lacked Zed’s speed and agility. A side step, a pair of blows, and Ingesson would be down. A different strike would ensure he wouldn’t get up. Zed could visualize the actions. He could see the result.

  No!

  Ingesson attacked. Zed sidestepped to avoid his strike, his hands reaching out to follow through on the actions he’d visualized. Desperate to override his body’s instincts, Zed did the only thing he could. He phase-shifted.

  His skin crawled as he slipped into another layer of reality, one he hadn’t visited for more than six months. He’d always thought of it like j-space, though the analogy was flawed. There was no bubble surrounding him that allowed him to move through space at incredible speeds; he didn’t fold the space-time continuum. He just...shifted out of phase with the rest of the galaxy. The only thing he could interact with like this was someone else who’d shifted. One of his team...or one of the stin.

  His hands slid harmlessly through Ingesson’s neck, his fingers whispering through the other man’s flesh like a ghost’s. At least, that would be how it appeared to the crew. Right now, they seemed like the ghosts to him. He didn’t bother to try to stop his momentum, allowing it to carry him a few steps away from the crew of the Chaos.

  He slid back into reality, still in the Zone. Holding up his hands and lacing them behind his head, he knelt. The mission glittered in his mind—reacquire his medication—but he’d ignored mission parameters before. Reacquiring his medication meant harming the crew of the Chaos. Civilians. He should not have acted in the first place. He wouldn’t endanger Ingesson. He wouldn’t fight him.

  “Get some fucking restraints on him,” Idowu ordered, his voice rough. “Ness, sedatives.”

  He met Idowu’s hard gaze as the captain rubbed his throat. “Unnecessary. I will be incapacitated in about thirty seconds.” He could already feel the Zone wavering. Experience told him he could hold on for a lot longer than thirty seconds, but it wouldn’t do any good here. Zed turned to O’Brien. “I’ll pass out. Seizures are possible.”

  “Jesus Christ, Zed...” Surprise and horror etched across O’Brien’s features.

  “What the fuck did they do to you, man?” whispered Ingesson...Felix...Flick.

  Zed didn’t answer. He let the Zone slide away, taking the hurt look in Flick’s eyes with it.

  * * *

  The med bay wasn’t designed to hold more than two or three people. As he watched Elias and Nessa circle each other like angry cats, Felix wondered what in all hells they’d do if more than one of them ever got seriously injured at the same time. He glanced over at Qek, who had squashed herself into a corner, and then at Zed, who lay stretched across the bed, again, happily oblivious to the tension thickening the air.

  Tugging at his collar, Felix pushed out of his corner and prepared to insert himself between the captain and the doctor before someone else got hurt.

  “I want him off the ship. Now!”

  “I’m not sure moving him wouldn’t kill him.”

  “Ask me if I care, Ness!”

  Felix entered the fray. “Mom, Dad, you’re scaring the kids.” He jerked his chin toward Qek, who actually made a good impression of calm, squashed into her corner and all.

  Elias jabbed a finger toward Felix. “This is your fault.”

  “I’m not the one whose pockets were bigger than his conscience.”

  “Ouch,” Nessa murmured.

  Elias rocked back on his heels. “You vouched for him, Fix.”

  Felix tugged at his hair, nails and wire scraping across his scalp and catching at curls. A cusp had arrived, one of those cliffs that separated past from future, an epiphany of the sort a man recognized before it happened. Those were the worst fucking kind. He had a choice to make: Elias or Zed.

  One of these men had made him promises he couldn’t keep—but not because he hadn’t tried. The other had picked him up off the floor, dusted him off and stood him upright twice. He loved them both in his own half-assed and useless way.

  Felix pulled his hands from his hair and let his arms dangle at his sides. He adopted a posture of appeal, or tried to, and spoke directly to Elias. “Remember the state I was in when you found me?”

  “Which time?”

  “That’s kind of my point. Twice you picked me up. Twice you gave me a chance.”

  Elias’s shoulders dipped. “God, the first time...” His gaze flicked between Nessa and Qek, both of whom stood absolutely still, aware they might be about to hear something about his past. “You might as well have been dead.” Elias’s tone hardened. “This is different.”

  “You and your father were under no obligation to save me. None. You could have shoved me out of an airlock instead of listening to my story and...” A lump rose in Felix’s throat. “We both know I’m only here because you and Angus are good men.”

  “Don’t do this, Felix.”

  “I have to, don’t you understand? You’re my brother, man.” Felix gestured at the man on the bunk behind them. “He is too. Since I was eight years old. I stole his wallet. He chased me and got stuck in an air duct. I could have left him. There were enough unhooked credits in that wallet to...” Buy something he’d really, really needed. Pushing those thoughts aside, Felix continued. “You’d expect a pampered rich kid like that to squirm and cry or something, right? Maybe threaten me? He didn’t. He just watched me leave with this expression that said, ‘You’ve won.’ So I went back and got him out.”

  “You got a point?” Elias’s tone didn’t hold the ire he probably wanted it to.

  “He let me keep the wallet, Eli. He’s a good man, just like you. Hell, he’s a hero. You’ve seen the holo.”

  “What kind of good man avoids his family and tries to kill his crew?”

  “He stopped. He didn’t really hurt any of us.”

  “Tell that to my neck.”

  “He’s in trouble. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I know there’s only one reason why he wouldn’t be in contact with his family. It’s because there’s something he can’t tell them. Something big. It has to do with his discharge, with the seizure he just had. He’s sick! That’s why he needs those meds.” Felix pulled himself up tall, despite the pain slicing through his chest. He had to make his choice. “We’re crew.” Silently, he added, All of us.

  Elias held his gaze for uncounted breaths, his brown eyes dark and fierce. Felix couldn’t remember him ever looking so hard, so close to breaking. His heart ached for Elias. Hell, his chest felt like a stin had stomped him.

  Finally, Elias dipped his chin. The movement could have been a twitch or a jerk, but Felix knew better. “I want answers. When Zander Anatolius wakes up, I want to know why he’s on my ship. If I don’t hear something satisfactory, we’re done. You got that?”

  Felix tendered the only sensible reply. “Cap’n.”

  Elias’s expression darkened further at that. He stalked out of the med bay.

  Feeling cast adrift, Felix stood where he’d been left. A hand slipped into his and he flinched. He looked down to find Qek standing near him, blue hand extended. Catching his gaze and holding it, she reached for his hand again and pressed her palm to his. A quiet and sober nod, and she disengaged and quietly followed Elias out the door. The hatch slid closed behind her.

  “You know what that means, don’t you?” Nessa stood close by, her expression shifting between wonder and fatigue. “Ashushk are very particular about who and what they touch.”

  “Qek seems to have no trouble wrapping her hand around a beer bottle.”

  “Sarcasm just isn’t your thing.”

  “I don’t know what my thing is anymore.” And his head hurt, maybe more than his heart. “Tell me what it means, Qek touching my hand like that.”

  “You’re her friend.”

  “She already told me that.�
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  “Now she means it.”

  Felix recalled the conversation of a few days before—had it really only been a few?—when Qek had defined an ashushk friendship. We value our friendships and would place ourselves in the way of harm to keep them. “Shit.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and turned a slow circle. The walls were closing in and he was helpless to stop them. He couldn’t “meditate” in the med bay, and with an ache spreading across his jaw to grip the back of his neck, with the pain in his chest, he’d probably land one kick before falling on his ass.

  Nessa tugged at his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Felix shrugged her hand off. “Don’t.” Don’t hug me. Please don’t trap me in your arms, because I will snap.

  She stepped back, expression briefly betraying her hurt, and nodded at the man on the bunk. “We need to talk about your friend.”

  After offering his surrender, Zed had slumped to the floor of the bridge and begun seizing. Felix didn’t think he’d witnessed anything so scary in all his life, and he’d seen some fucked-up shit. None of the quagmire that formed his nightmares included Zed bucking across the floor with his face pulled into a mask of death, however.

  Nessa had directed them quickly and efficiently. They had rolled Zed onto his side and made sure he didn’t smack into anything too solid. Then they’d dragged a hundred kilos of slack soldier to the med bay and somehow got him up onto the bunk. Zed had been out for about thirty minutes.

  Nessa took up an official stance by the bed. “Sleeping is a common reaction. The seizure actually wasn’t bad, as far as seizures go. Brain pattern looks...well, not normal, but not the sort of abnormal that would hint the problems I’d expect to see in a patient who seizes often. Are you following me?”

  “You’re asking me, ever so obliquely, what happened on the bridge.”

  “I want to know why he has stin claw marks on the back of his neck.”

  “He...what?”

  The scars, Zed’s off switch.

  “Help me roll him over a bit.”

  Felix hesitated. Looking at the scars felt like an invasion of Zed’s privacy and...he didn’t really want to look at the scars. But Nessa stood by, all expectant, and he’d just refused a hug and, damn it, he felt too heartsore to hurt another member of his crew.

  Together, they rolled Zed onto his side. Nessa pulled down the collar of the gray shirt to reveal two shockingly familiar rows of scars. Felix stepped back and scrubbed his hands on his pants, as if wiping his palms would rid him of some awful taint. The metal of his glove caught a thread and teased it free. He didn’t even hear the soft rip, but he felt the material gape open and the breeze that tickled his leg.

  “So you recognize the marks?”

  “You don’t?”

  Nessa would have seen the marks the stin left on their dead. The ritual claw hold to the back of the neck and the messier versions, like the scars on his right side from the mechanical claws they used to tear open body armor. She had seen the long grooves crisscrossing his back. Anger stirred, spluttered and died. Felix had too much else to worry about to rail at the stin. At his own misfortune.

  “He should be dead,” he said.

  “Several times over, by the depth of those scars.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Your guess is probably better than mine.”

  Felix glanced at the doctor, saw the questions in her eyes. She had the vague outline of his story, but not the details. Now wasn’t the time to share them. He angled his shoulders into Qek’s hiding place, the gap between bed and monitoring machines. The wall felt solid at his back.

  “That wall’s not going to hold you up for long,” Nessa said.

  “I know.”

  “You should go eat something. I’ll watch him until you get back.”

  “You don’t think we should roll him down the ramp?”

  “My head and my gut are at odds on this one. He’s a danger to us, to our crew, but he’s a man who so obviously needs help. I can’t ignore that, not even as a glorified pirate.”

  “We’re not pirates.”

  Nessa silenced him with a glare. “Elias needs to do what’s best for all of us. He’s worried for the entire crew, for you in particular.”

  “You two been talking ’bout me behind my back?”

  “When have we not?”

  Felix snorted.

  Nessa looked over at Zed, who despite the trouble he’d caused, seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Lucky bastard. “I can see the man you love in there.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Oh, hush. The pair of you are like a goddamned romance novel. Star-crossed lovers. I look at you together and I get the feeling the galaxy is going to tip on its edge.”

  “You need to stop reading such crap.”

  “I’m trying to say I understand why you stood up for him, why you keep standing up for him. But you need to do something for Elias. He found out who Zed was and didn’t even approach you. He trusts you.”

  “I know.”

  “He loves you too.”

  Felix wondered if the wall might conveniently wrap around him and suck him away from the difficult conversation.

  “Get some answers. If they’re good ones, we’re with you, you know that. If they’re not, we’ll do the best we can for him.” She paused. “You know that as well.”

  Throat tight, Felix nodded. Nessa extended a hand toward him and paused, uncertainty flickering across her delicate features. Felix finished the move for her, grasping her arm. “You’re good people, Ness.”

  She squeezed his elbow. “You too. Now go get something to eat. I promise I’ll ping you if he blinks.”

  His stomach felt like a twisted plastic bag, but hunger was an old and familiar friend, one Felix found easy to ignore. “I’d rather stay here. Just for a while.”

  Nessa’s eyes glittered with challenge that dulled as she found a compromise. “Sit. I’ll bring you something.”

  “Thanks.”

  After she left, Felix pulled a chair into the niche between the machine and the high edge of the bed and flopped disconsolately into the hard seat. For a while, he listened to the monitor ping, the soft chime both annoying and soothing. Then he began to fidget.

  What was he going to do about Eli? The man had saved his life twice. No question, full stop. All right, Angus Idowu had had a hand in it both times, but it had been Elias who walked him through recovery. The captain was his friend and Ness was right. Elias loved him like a brother. Felix felt the same way. Was he willing to risk the best friendship and partnership he’d formed since the war for Zed, the man with a plan...who looked so far from what he planned, it should be comical.

  It wasn’t, was just fucking sad.

  Felix wrapped his fingers around Zed’s limp hand. Instantly, he felt the connection. Just having Zed’s skin next to his reminded him of everything. Of their promises, every kiss, every message. The way Zed used to laugh and sing. The holo Felix had secretly recorded the night of their graduation party. Five fresh faces, but only one he wanted to see over and over.

  “I think Ness is right about this tipping galaxy thing.”

  He bent forward to rest his cheek against the back of Zed’s hand. He should be frightened, and a thrill of fear did tickle the back of his neck, teasing the fine hair so that he shivered. But the warmth of Zed’s hand offered comfort. Turning his head, Felix pressed a kiss to Zed’s skin. His throat moved and a shaky hum emerged, unbidden but stupidly appropriate. A few notes from one of the songs they used to sing together, Zed using his wallet’s music weaver, Felix trying not to squawk.

  If Zed woke up to hear him singing, he’d know for sure he hadn’t ascended to the Christian heaven. Angels were supposed to sound pretty sweet. Shrugging off a moment of apprehension, Felix continued to hum softly.

  “You sound like a drunken sparrow.”

  Felix found a wavering smile. “I have no idea what a sparrow is, so I’ll just assume that’s an insult.”
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  A grunt answered him as Zed tried to lift his head. His face creased with pain and he dropped back to the pillow, eyelids fluttering down. “Should I ask what happened?”

  “What, before or after you stuck your hands through my neck?”

  Zed’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Shit.”

  Double shit.

  “After you convinced yourself not to kill us, you dropped to your knees like a goddamned prisoner and then fell on the floor and started foaming at the mouth. Some super soldier you are. Snap a couple necks and you’re out for the count.”

  Zed made a noise between a moan and a groan.

  “‘Sokay.” Actually, it wasn’t. None of this was okay. “Ness told us what to do. Um, she said it wasn’t a bad seizure. No lasting effects. You probably won’t feel good for a while, though.”

  “Yep.”

  “Zed...”

  Zed didn’t answer and Felix hadn’t really expected him to acknowledge a formless question. He started again. “I need to tell Elias something. I...he’s...fuck.” He’d dangled himself over the edge of this cliff, now he had to crawl back up. “My promise stands. I’m going to help you, because you’re my oldest friend and because it’s the right thing to do. Emma needs us. My crew will stand with me, but I need to help them understand what we’re up against. Who we’re fighting for, against and why.”

  Felix paused, wondering if he’d moved too fast for a man emerging from a seizure-nap. Zed had turned to look at him, though, and his eyes, while more gray than they should be, showed he followed the general gist of it all well enough.

  Felix sucked in a shaky breath. “So, I need you to tell me why it looks like a fucking stin had you by the scruff of the neck, more than once, and managed not to kill you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zed really didn’t want to have this conversation lying down, but the spike of pain that flared as he tried to sit up again convinced him that lying down would do. His brain felt scrambled, slower than usual, a reaction he’d experienced the last time he’d seized following a phase-shift. At any rate, staying still seemed like a good idea, and falling back asleep and avoiding Flick’s questions, an even better one.