by Jake Bible
“Like she was me and mine,” Parveet responded then gave a salute using only her middle finger.
“I’ll hold you to that statement,” Jennings said and left, weaving his way through the crowd to the lift.
“Figure it out yet?” Parveet asked, returning her attention to Torn.
“No,” Torn said. “Wait, what was that about conditioning me?”
“You picked up on that,” Parveet said. “Good for you.”
A roar went up in the crowd and Parveet rolled her eyes.
“Come on, Ambassador Beryl Torn,” Parveet said and slapped Torn on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. I need a shit and a shower and you need someplace a little more quiet. Your cabin will do nicely.”
“My cabin? Why my cabin?” Torn asked.
“Because my cabin is on the Jethro,” Parveet said. “And I haven’t given you permission to go aboard yet. We still have way too much talking to do.”
“Don’t you need your uniform to change into?” Torn asked.
Parveet bent down and picked up her bag from the floor. She patted it like it was a well-loved pet.
“Got it right here. I keep everything I need when I’m not on the Jethro with me at all times,” Parveet said. “Same with the rest of my crew. SBE ain’t home. We’re only transients moving through from mission to mission. And that’s how I like it.”
Parveet pointed to the lift.
“After you, Ambassador,” she said and gave Torn a smack on the ass and a shove between the shoulder blades.
5.
“I am rather confused,” Torn said as she poured two mugs of tea and waited for Parveet to get done in the shower. “That woman you were fighting. She is a sergeant under your command?”
“Hold on, lady!” Parveet shouted from the shower. “Let me finish up! Jesus!”
Torn struggled not to bristle at Parveet’s complete and total refusal to follow any type of military protocol. Torn was not military, but as an ambassador of the UEC, she was to be afforded respect equal to the highest ranking of military officers. Parveet seemed entirely unconcerned with that.
The shower water turned off and Parveet came out of the small bathroom dripping wet. She rubbed at her body fast with a towel, tossed it on Torn’s bed, then ransacked her bag until she found her underwear, a T-shirt, and a uniform jumper.
“What?” Parveet asked as Torn stared.
“Those are a lot of scars,” Torn said. “You should have had those conditioned, you know.”
Parveet looked down at her body and shrugged.
“No time to condition when you’re on a mission,” Parveet said. “You’re more concerned with not bleeding out than looking good in a bikini. Not that I give a shit about bikinis.”
Parveet crammed herself into her clothes, stomped over to the table, sat down with a heavy sigh, then glared at the mug.
“What the hell is that?” Parveet asked, leaning forward to smell the steam coming from the mug. “Tea? Who the hell drinks tea?”
“Civilized people do,” Torn said.
“Pretentious twats with no sense of life or adventure, you mean,” Parveet replied. She shrugged, picked up the mug, downed the tea, nodded, set the mug down, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Okay. Talk to me.”
“I honestly can say I do not know where to begin,” Torn said.
“You were jabbering about something while I was in the shower,” Parveet said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder towards the bathroom. “Real water. I can’t believe you get to waste real water while the rest of us get the sweat and shit scraped off our bodies by sonic waves. You ever taken a sonic before? Shit stings. Gets the job done fast, but stings.”
Torn blinked. She had nothing to say. Parveet was overloading her brain.
“Hey,” Parveet said, leaning across the table to snap her fingers in Torn’s face. “You okay? I come on strong, I know, but that’s who I am. Once we’re out in the shit, you’ll see why.”
“How have you not been demoted?” Torn asked.
“For what?” Parveet replied, looking honestly confused.
“For everything you say, everything you do,” Torn said. “I can’t begin to count the military regulations that you break with just one single sentence. You should be locked up for your behavior.”
“Locked up? What good does that do anyone?” Parveet asked. “Seriously, Ambassador, you need to get with the program and loosen up here. I’ve got a salty mouth. I beat the shit out of one of my top sergeants. I tell Jennings to go suck it every chance I get. So? In the end, me and mine get the job that needs doing done. And that is a job that no one else can do better than me and mine.”
“I’ve met other MEU commanders. They do not act like you,” Torn said.
“Why would they? The other MEUs are for show. Even the other ones on SBE,” Parveet said and laughed. “They stroll across planets that me and mine have already cleared. They take guard duty. Me and mine? We walk into the unknown and come back out in the know. And whatever was in there, sure as hell knows us after.”
“Knows you,” Torn mused. “Yes, about knowing you. I cannot for the life of me figure out what family you are from. Parveet? Not one of the great names. But you said it was your mother’s? Still, even when one strays outside the formal structure of the lineages, one is always documented.”
“One is always documented,” Parveet parroted. “Listen to yourself. You had promise when you were drinking down in the cages. Now? Your brain has regressed to spoiled little rich bitch. Snap out of it!”
Parveet snapped her fingers in Torn’s face again, making the ambassador jump and nearly drop her mug of tea.
“You’re forty-seven, right?” Parveet asked.
“How do you know that?” Torn asked.
“We’re almost the same age,” Parveet said. “I’m forty-four, for the record. That means we’ve seen a lot of the same shit coming up in this mess called the UEC. You know Roger Fang?”
“Of course I know the Secretary of Exploration,” Torn said.
“No need to get offended, Ambassador,” Parveet said. “I hate to assume.”
“You’ve done nothing but assume since you’ve met me,” Torn said.
“Nope,” Parveet said. “I know you. I’ve read your file. The real one, not the one the public sees. I read every single file of every single one of the dipshits that came here for your stupid budget-cutting tour. It’s called prepping for battle. But that’s not how I know you.”
“What about Roger Fang?” Torn asked, ignoring Parveet’s statement. No need to wonder why or how the colonel was able to get her classified personal file. “How does he play into this?”
Parveet smirked, but didn’t say anything.
“You are not a Fang,” Torn said. “I know the Fang family quite well. Grew up close to their summer home.”
“So did I,” Parveet said.
“What? No,” Torn said. “There were only three families on that island. Mine, the Fangs, and…”
Parveet kicked her feet up onto the small table, jostling the teapot and mugs. Tea spilled onto the surface, but Torn didn’t care. All she could do for several seconds was stare at and study Parveet’s face.
“Jay?” Torn asked in a quiet voice. Her entire demeanor changed in one second.
“Hey, Bee,” Parveet said and smiled. “About time you caught up. I was starting to get bored.”
Torn struggled to keep the tears at bay, but failed completely.
“Ah, shit, Bee,” Parveet said and got up quick. It was her turn for her demeanor to change. She yanked Torn to her feet and hugged her tight. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busting your gonads this whole time thinking you’d get it faster. That was our thing, remember?”
Torn cried into Parveet’s shoulder. Huge, snotty sobs shook her entire body.
“Shit,” Parveet said. “It’s all good. Chill, lady. Take some deep breaths. Goddamn breathe.”
Torn managed to get herself together and pushe
d back from Parveet.
“You bitch,” she said and sniffed. “You cruel bitch.”
“There’s my Bee,” Parveet said and kissed the ambassador on the forehead. “It’s good to see you.”
Torn sat back down and grabbed a napkin. It was soaked in tea. “Shit.”
“I didn’t mean it to go so far,” Parveet said. “I thought you knew before coming here. Why else would you finally be on the same station as me? I’d made a career of avoiding UEC twats. But when I saw you down in the cages and there wasn’t a spark of recognition in your eyes, well…”
“You couldn’t help yourself,” Torn said and sniffed hard. “Just like always.”
Parveet shrugged as she sat back down. “I run Jethro for a reason, Bee. You think anyone but me could do it?”
“Now that I know it’s you, no,” Torn said then laughed a high, anguished laugh. She looked up at the ceiling. “Why? How? I haven’t seen you in decades.”
“Not since my grandfather killed yours,” Parveet said. “It all came crashing down then, didn’t it?”
“My family snuck away in the night,” Torn said. “Then the authorities were sent in. I heard that…”
“You heard true,” Parveet said. “They razed the summer estate house to the ground. Obliterated it.”
“I thought you’d died with the rest of your family,” Torn said.
“Living in the handyman’s shack for once had its advantages,” Parveet said. “They left the staff and servants alone. The rest of my family was wiped clean.”
“Globally too?” Torn asked.
“That’s the law,” Parveet said. “Hunted to the ends of the Earth. Wipe the lineage clean. I don’t think I have a third cousin still living.”
“Parveet,” Torn said and smiled. “In the end, your father saved your life.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Parveet said. She spread her arms. “Joining all this is really what saved me.”
“And your father? What happened to him?” Torn asked.
“I don’t know,” Parveet said. “He dumped me at a slave house three months later. I was so rage pissed that I terrified anyone that even came close to buying me. The master figured out I had certain skills and put me to work at the house, mainly keeping the other kids in line. Pretty much what I do now, except now I get free meals and medical.”
“Jesus,” Torn said. “So most of this was an act?”
“Some,” Parveet said. “I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t have messed with a real ambassador so much.”
“I am a real ambassador,” Torn said.
“Nah,” Parveet replied, waving her off. “You’re Bee.”
Torn laughed and shouted, “Goddamn! Jay! You’re alive!”
“There’s my Bee,” Parveet said. “Good to hear you getting your voice back. The UEC has you muzzled. No offense. They muzzle everyone. We’re gonna do something about that.”
Torn slapped her palms on the table. “You are going to tell me everything that happened between then and now.”
“Nope,” Parveet said and stood up. She fetched her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “We’re done here. Time to get to the Jethro. I’ve been gone too long.”
“How long have you been off the ship?” Torn asked.
“Twenty hours,” Parveet said. “Way too long. Mine are probably getting antsy.”
“Mine? You keep saying me and mine. What does that mean?” Torn asked.
“Can’t explain,” Parveet said. “I have to show ya. Come on, Bee. Time to see what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Now?”
“You got something else to do?” Parveet asked as she opened the cabin door.
“I do, actually,” Torn said. “I have four reports to write and send. Then I need to submit my itinerary officially to the UEC scheduling department. After that, I’m required to fill out my budget forms as well as daily expense justification sheets.”
“Yeah, that ain’t happening,” Parveet said.
“What part?” Torn replied.
“All of it,” Parveet said. “You want to understand how it works in the outer reaches? First rule is to hell with filling out forms. We shoot and stomp, not scribble and stamp. Come on. You gotta meet the crew. Then we need to get you conditioned.”
“What does that mean?” Torn said.
“Pain,” Parveet said. “A lot of goddamn pain.”
***
Jennings sat in his office, bottle of whiskey at hand. He poured a fifth shot and sipped it slowly before he opened the message that blinked at him on his vid screen.
“RE: TORN. IMMUNITY REFUSED. UEC PROTECTION REVOKED. CRIMINAL INDICTMENT ISSUED. SECURITY SHIP EN ROUTE. DETAIN FOR TRANSFER.”
Jennings sighed and activated his comms.
“Nomo?”
“Yes, General?”
“How much time before return receipt of the latest coded message is received by closest UEC monitoring office?”
“At current comms level? Three days.”
“And if comms were to suddenly have a severe crash?”
“We can wiggle three days into three weeks,” Nomo said, a wry smile easily heard in his voice.
“Make it happen, Major,” Jennings said and cut the comms. “I want to look into this some more.”
“Are we going to still allow the ambassador to travel with the Jethro?” Nomo asked.
“Might as well,” Jennings said. “Gives me even more time to work this all out.”
“Yes, sir,” Nomo said. “I’ll tweak the comms.”
“Thank you,” Jennings said.
He poured his sixth shot.
6.
Chief Charles “Stony” Locke stared at the mess of parts laid out on the mech hangar deck. He scratched his shorn head with the wrench he kept with him on his belt at all times. The wrench’s name was Tina. Half the crew joked he showered with it, the other half joked he slept with it. His wife joked about both. Stony never argued with any of it.
“You did this why?” Stony asked the young mechanic that stood next to him. “Did I ask you to do this?”
“No, sir,” the young mechanic replied.
“What’s your name again?” Stony asked.
“Mechanic Patricia Bellows, sir,” the young mechanic replied.
“First, you call me sir again and I’ll send Tina spelunking up your ass,” Stony said. “Second, Patricia Bellows is what’s on your birth cert. What the hell is your real name?”
“Chief?” the young mechanic asked. “That is my real name.”
“Points for switching to Chief,” Stony said, patting the mechanic on the shoulder. “Loss of points for not having a proper name. You work for me on the Jethro and you get a proper name. Mine is Stony.”
“Why Stony?” the mechanic asked.
“Long story and I’m too sober to tell it,” Stony replied. “Until you pop your cherry in the shit, you call me Chief, so don’t worry about it. But we’ve got to find you a real name.”
Stony turned to face the buzz of constant motion that filled the mech hangar. Mechanics and techs hurried from one mech bay to the next like a well-oiled machine.
“Hey! Listen up!” Stony roared.
Even over the deafening amount of noise that throbbed through the hangar, every single person heard him and came to an instant stop in their work.
“What’s up, Stony?” a man shouted from his spot in a harness halfway up one of the thirty-foot-tall battle mechs. “You get in a fight with Tina again?”
“Shut it, Pang!” Stony yelled. “This virgin needs a name!”
“Why? She ain’t gonna live past the next mission!” a second mechanic shouted from her perch on the shoulder of one of the other battle mechs. “Don’t she know we sacrifice virgins to the battle gods?”
“I’m not a virgin,” the young mechanic muttered.
“I heard that, sacrifice!” the woman yelled.
“Shut up, Hawker,” Stony said. He nudged the young mechanic. “Whatever you do, do not li
sten to Mechanic Meegat. Hawker will screw with you until you go insane.”
“What’s her birth cert name?” Pang asked.
“Patricia,” Stony replied.
“Jesus Christ,” Pang said. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Call her Rots!” Hawker shouted.
“Why Rots?” Stony asked.
“Patricia. Patty. Cow patty. Manure. Compost. Rots,” Hawker replied.
“Sounds logical,” Stony said.
“I thought you said not to listen to her,” Rots said.
“I said for you not to listen to her,” Stony said. “I’m married to the woman. I have to listen to her.”
“Married? Married couples aren’t allowed to serve with each other,” Rots replied.
“Hey, Hawker!” Stony yelled.
“What?”
“She says we aren’t allowed to serve with each other!”
“Shut up, Rots!” Hawker shouted.
“Yeah, Rots! Shut up!” half the mechanics shouted.
“This is the Jethro,” Stony explained. “We’re in the outer reaches and we have six of the scariest battle mechs of all the MEUs. In the hands of any of our pilots, one of those mechs could lay waste to a quarter of what’s left of Earth’s population within three days.”
“Except for Gore,” a mechanic said as she walked by. “He’d whine everyone to death in two.”
“No shit,” Stony said and focused back on Rots. “We do what we do here and no one argues.”
“How?” Rots asked.
“Stop asking questions and start answering them,” Stony said.
“Is she called Rots or what?” Pang asked.
“Yeah, she’s called Rots,” Stony replied then turned back to the row of parts on the ground. The hangar went back to its deafening chaos. “Now. This shit. Why?”
Rots stared at the parts then glanced over her shoulder at Hawker. Stony followed her gaze and sighed.
“Now you know what I mean,” Stony said and waved Tina at the parts. “Put them all back. Now. I want this mech’s ankle couplings working better than when you took all this shit out.”
“Better? How will I know it works better?” Rots asked.
“When the pilot whose mech this is, and that’s Chomps, by the way, when she starts this up, takes three steps, and doesn’t call for your execution, then you’ll know,” Stony said.
