“So y’all will be giving us access to the space bridge and your research projects?”
“My mate, Eensino, would rather not,” Kroshka said, keeping her stare fixed on the splendorous sights ahead. “The Empire has been at a great disadvantage over the years. FTL, MRF, wormhole technology, Lyonria ruins, none of it has been shared with us. The colony near Omega Centauri and our developments into better understanding Draconian technology were our two biggest secrets.”
“And now my mission is gonna change that,” Foster said. “To be fair, we never shared much of that tech with Radiance other than FTL.”
“That’s because FTL was co-developed by Radiance.”
Foster pushed away from the railing. “Ah, right, sorry I’m still learning what I missed when I was asleep in cryo.”
“Rather than staying in the Uelcovis system to receive our gifts, consider staying to attend the festival. I, the emperor, and all Imperial system lords will be in attendance. It will be … a better dining experience with us, it was quite clear my chef prepared food that was not to your liking.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You can bring your chef to cook for us as well; you did mention he was skilled at preparing meals of nonhuman origin.”
“Again, I’ll think about it.”
“Please do not think too long,” Kroshka said. “My husband is planning the execution of the chef.”
“For what?”
“We take great pride in ensuring our guests eat and enjoy their meals. You are the first to show displeasure. In Eensino’s eyes, the chef has failed and will be punished. But, if your chef and him both prepare meals that will satisfy those in attendance, he may redeem himself and be spared.”
“And what if my chef drops the ball?”
“He’s your chef; you will have to take corrective action. Humans having to face punishment in the hands of Hashmedai can be a sensitive subject to many.”
Foster’s previous blissful mood quickly grew sour. It was time for a topic change. She gestured to the skies. “Quite the view.”
The empress smiled and looked up at the stars and ships visible from their location. “There are many places to view the skies that are more spectacular than this,” she pointed up. “This tower goes higher. From the top you could see the border between the planet and space.”
Foster sobered up enough to make it back to the transport without Williams suspecting a thing. As she went to back away from the balcony, the alluring empress held her arm. She had something more to say, Foster looked at her.
“Have you encountered any information pertaining to mysterious artifacts the Draconians have taken interest in?” Kroshka asked.
“Nope, I heard some strange things have been dug up in the Middle East on Earth because of the Draconians attacks,” Foster said, shaking her head. “My team found one on the surface of New Babylon, but that’s it, they lost it during an ambush. Why do you ask?”
Kroshka’s face twisted with disappointment, like she was expecting Foster to say otherwise. “Curiosity, that is all. It has been brought to my attention the Draconians are seeking them.”
“I ain’t got anything else to say about ‘em, they’s as mysterious to us as they are to you.” Foster’s comment made a slight smirk appear on the empress’ face, a confident one at that.
“Should you learn anything, please share it. Perhaps we could discover more about them together and compare notes?”
“I’d have to clear that with my people.”
And before she did that, figure what type of hidden message Kroshka was trying to convey. Changing the topic suddenly to artifacts, when they haven’t been talked about by anyone recently, was a suspicious thing to do as far as Foster was concerned.
Kroshka was fishing for information, and probably suspected that Williams, and everyone else that was on the surface of New Babylon two months ago, learnt something about the artifact they were forced to drop when the Dragon Maiden arrived to claim it.
XSV Johannes Kepler
Paryo orbit, Uemaesce system
October 15, 2118, 20:53 SST (Sol Standard Time)
The Johannes Kepler’s galley, size wise, was a step down from the one featured on the Carl Sagan. The ship wasn’t meant to hold a large crew, let alone serve them. Chef Demarion Bailey didn’t mind it while he brushed a broom across the floor, clearing it of flour and vegetable peelings that had fallen onto it.
Foster snuck in and stood watching him. Shiny pots and pans hung from the ceiling next to her. She debated how she was going to approach him about the topic at hand. Straight-up say what she needed of him? Or try to sugarcoat it? A man’s life was on the line, and it was her fault for putting him in that position when she passed on consuming the meals presented to her. Bailey’s cooking could change that, and his actions could deliver some much-needed leverage with the empress.
“Hey, Chef, you got a minute?” Foster called out him.
The old and wise Jamaican man put the broom away and approached, smiling. “Hey, Captain, wah gwaan?”
“So, I’m in a bit of jam right now,” Foster said, cutting to the point. “A man’s about to lose his head, a fellow chef at that.”
Bailey crossed his arms across his white chef coat and apron. “Wha?”
“A Hashmedai chef. But, yeah, long story short, in order to save his hide, and butter up the empress to help us out, I’m gonna need you to help that poor ol’ Hashmedai chef cook for a bunch of people.”
“What kinda people?”
“Oh, nothing major. Just the emperor and empress of the Hashmedai Empire, and all their system lords.” Bailey’s mouth and eyes opened wide in shock. “So, you in?”
“Oh, rasclot!”
“I’ll take that as a yes! Thanks, Chef!”
30 Avearan
Phylarlie’s Manor
Muro, Taxah, Uelcovis system
October 15, 2118, 14:59 SST (Sol Standard Time)
Avearan was back in the Empire.
She knew this because she found herself standing still for two minutes after stepping off the transport that dropped her and Lisette in front of Phylarlie’s manor. The cold arctic wind hitting her face, breathing air that wasn’t provided by air recyclers, snow at her feet, and the voices of Hashmedai dock workers speaking to each other in the distance. It felt good to be back.
She remembered a time in her life when the feelings she was experiencing were a daily norm. That was a time years before anyone in the Empire knew of her psionic gifts, and when the human race was just group of primitive people sending robots to explore the surface of Mars because they weren’t advanced enough to do it themselves.
If it wasn’t for Lisette tugging on her arm, nearly dragging her away, Avearan probably would have spent another two minutes lost in nostalgic thoughts, as if her mind was a time machine.
Avearan gave Lisette a quick tour of the old manor, walking across its floors and elaborately designed staircases. Servants bowed their heads in respect when they walked past. Guests staying at the manor paid no mind to Avearan’s presence as they were clueless to who she really was. Lisette’s smile refused to fade the longer they stayed and walked about. She was ecstatic about the experience, running from room to room, chamber to chamber, cursing the fact they only had a week before they had to return to Titan. Lisette wanted to see everything the planet had, it was after all the first time in her life she stepped foot on a planet. Titan was a moon.
The tour ended with Avearan and Lisette standing on a balcony located on the top floor. To the left was the city of Muro, a city where its buildings existed on the outside world which was a strange concept to Lisette. Beyond was the arctic tundra where the land was made of snow, ice, and frozen mountains, and where towering, high glaciers floated on the ocean. She watched the emotions flow through Lisette’s body, weakening her knees while her mitted hands covered her face when she saw the openness of the world. Snow began to fall from the skies, blanketing the material of Liset
te’s faux fur coat.
Lisette raised her hands high up like she was trying to touch the opened skies and clouds that dispensed the white fluffy matter that plummeted. “Oh my God, Avearan,” she said, keeping her face up.
Avearan shrugged. “Yeah, that stuff is called snow …”
“I know what it is!” Lisette said, facing her. “I’ve never seen it like this … or touched it.”
“You should see it during a storm . . .”
Lisette exhaled, expelling mist from her mouth, after taking in a large breath of air. “Holy shit, give me a moment here.”
“That’s called fresh air not produced by air recyclers.”
“And the cool air around me is called me not freezing to death instantly,” Lisette said.
“You’re human,” Avearan said drily. “If you stayed out here long enough you would.”
“I’m jealous of you, Avearan. You had a better life out here than on Titan.”
“Not really, since I rarely had the chance to leave this place,” Avearan said. “Whenever I came to visit, I had to wait until the sun set to leave. The day-night cycles here are longer than what they are on Paryo and Earth. So, yeah, I had to wait a while.”
“Was life in the Empire really that bad?”
Avearan grimaced. “Yes, you’re given a career path to follow at birth; you have no choice but to spend your whole childhood being molded into that. And if you’re psionic? Then all that changes when you get pushed into their training programs and locked away for five years. You’re cut off from the world, family, and friends, and raped by teachers and sometimes other students.”
Lisette took another glace at the frozen tundra, resting her mittened hands on the balcony’s railing. “Wasn’t that under the old ruler of the Empire?”
“Nothing’s changed,” Avearan said, joining her, and leaning against the railing. “Hashmedai psionics are a rarity since Radiance killed billions of them during the war our two people had. We lost the technology needed to bring out psionic powers in those that have the potential.”
“So, you’re like an endangered species, almost.”
Avearan nodded. “That’s one way to put it. The Empire captures all Hashmedai psionics and forces them to train in their camps buried deep inside mountains. The students aren’t allowed to leave until they finish their training and get assigned to their new posts. And the teachers? Ha! They have to spend their whole lives there training the next generation of students, hence the rape and treatment of others. Doesn’t matter which end of the problem you’re on, psionic training is a prison sentence. Keeping all Hashmedai psionics rounded up and tucked away was the Empire’s way of protecting us from our enemies, until we were strong enough to defend ourselves.”
“That’s why you ran away?” Lisette said with a hint of sorrow in her voice.
“Yeah, well, part of it,” Avearan said. “The other reason was because I had no choice for what my assignment was going to be. I didn’t like the idea of being forced to train, forced to give my teacher a blowjob, then forced to go where the Empire wanted me.”
“Did they at least say thank you?”
“Who? The Empire or my teacher?” she snorted, it was met with laughter from the two. “I met some cargo haulers that told me about the salvagers in the Morutrin system looking for new recruits. I took the offer and told the Empire to fuck off. After the Celestial Order wars, Phylarlie offered me a chance to experience life in the Empire here and there, but only if I came to this manor when she didn’t have guests.” Which makes this invite suspect, Phylarlie’s bringing in the biggest guests this place has ever seen—
Lisette held onto Avearan’s collar, pulling her face in to hers. Her soft lips did the rest, gifting Avearan with a passionate kiss. Lisette’s hands uncupping Avearan’s face, allowed her to pull away. She chose not to. She admired Lisette’s confidence, her boldness, and no fear attitude to let her know how much she wanted Avearan in her life.
“After we finish our training on Titan,” Lisette whispered, pressing her forehead against hers. “I’ll give you the freedom that everyone else was too much of an asshole to give you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Going to a UNE run psionic academy should already show you how different things will be in the there. Nobody is going to force you into anything you don’t want to do, since our training isn’t for military use.”
Avearan wanted to believe that. But the Terran Legion protests and their growing support still had her fearful, for Lisette more than her. Avearan spent years living in the wilderness of the Morutrin system, and so, she was no stranger to watching her back daily. If the protests proved anything, it’s that the Terran Legion were hostile to not just nonhumans, but humans that befriended them.
Lisette was the one of the best things to happen to Avearan. She was the first and only person in her life that she gave a damn about, a person whose physical touch alone was addictive like a narcotic. The thought of going more than two days without seeing or touching her would drive Avearan insane. Lisette was in the exact same position, and it was that knowledge that kept them together despite the short amount of time they knew each other.
Losing Lisette to the Legion was a thought she was far too afraid to think about.
“Don’t keep her there too long.” A voice called out to Avearan in the Hashmedai language. She faced the source of the voice. A captivating Hashmedai woman with pale blue skin stood and leaned against the frame of the door, wearing a red and black lace dress, its top barely covering her chest. It was Phylarlie. “She’s human, she might get sick.”
“We need to talk,” Avearan said to Phylarlie in Hashmedai.
Phylarlie nodded. “I concur.”
“Hey, Lisette,” Avearan said to her in English. “You want to head back to our room and unpack? I need to have a word with the system lord here.”
Lisette pushed away from the balcony. “I guess the sightseeing can wait.”
Avearan and Phylarlie were left alone after Lisette disappeared into the darkened halls. A gust of wind below, scattered the snow around them and their loose hair, Phylarlie’s raven-black hair more so than Avearan’s, which had been tied back.
“Why are we here?” Avearan asked her in their language, getting right to the point.
“Because you accepted my invite and requested that your mate—”
“Girlfriend.”
“. . . come along,” Phylarlie finished.
“Why did you send the invite? It has always been myself having to ask, oftentimes beg, for you to allow me to visit. Now, suddenly, you’re the one reaching out to me, during a Conquest Day festival at that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a lord gifting close personal friends.”
“I’m not of high birth, I’m a psionic a runaway, the scum of the Empire, and had to kill more assassins than I could count sent to kill me.”
“And when was the last time an assassin attacked you?”
“I believe you know the answer to that,” Avearan said, looking away from her devious grin. “Don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to.”
“I wanted to host this year’s events and invite all those that help shape our Empire.”
“How generous of you,” she snorted.
“This year will be different,” Phylarlie said. “It will show the Empire is changing. We Hashmedai won’t have to live in fear that terrible things will happen on this day, like it has in the past.”
“So back to my previous question, why am I here? It doesn’t make sense that I should be allowed to attend the event, and drink with the same people that made the laws that I break . . . whatever it is you’re planning.”
“After this year’s gathering, things will be different in the Empire . . . as with your status.”
“What do you plan on doing? Unveil that I’m the guest of honor to the emperor and empress and convince them to have all charges dropped?”
Phylarlie looked at the droppi
ng snow that picked up its pace while stroking one of the many jewel-studded rings on her fingers. It took her forty seconds to provide Avearan with an answer.
“There’s something else I need of you.”
Avearan smirked at the comment. Dealing with the lowlifes on Morutrin Prime taught her to learn when someone was trying to use her. “I knew it.”
“Honestly, I wanted you and your . . . girlfriend, to enjoy yourselves first with the dining and entertainment.”
“I’ll be able to enjoy myself better once I know what’s on your agenda. Feel free to tell me everything now.”
“As you wish.”
The system lord moved away from the balcony and used her enticing glare to beckon Avearan to follow her. Avearan had a feeling she was going to regret it, much like how she was starting to regret coming to Taxah over Earth.
Central Jungles
Rainforest, Taxah, Uelcovis system
October 15, 2118, 20:59 SST (Sol Standard Time)
A transport lowered itself onto a landing pad next to a structure completely overrun by tropical vegetation within the center of a jungle, untouched by the hands of Hashmedai civilization. Two figures exited the transport seconds after it touched down and its landing thrusters came to an end, Avearan and Phylarlie. Both staggered as the heat and humidity hit them.
Avearan took a glance at their surroundings, noting the tall canopy trees, vegetation thick enough to hide the countless wild animals and insects roaming beyond, and the beach several kilometers away she saw them fly over. This was exactly what Lisette wanted to see, warm tropical weather at Taxah’s uninhabited equator. Instead of bringing her out here, Avearan was following Phylarlie inside the structure, to learn of the true reason why she invited her to visit.
An elevator took the two underground—deep underground. The ride itself took minutes to end, during which Avearan felt the heat that had been attacking her senses dissipate, when the cooler subterranean air arrived. Phylarlie guided her through a tunnel that showed signs of aging with its rust-covered metallic floors and walls. An assortment of scientists moved from chamber to chamber, some wore hazmat suits, others standard Imperial lab attire.
Unsanctioned Reprisal Page 28
