by Reiter
“Whoops,” Jocasta said as the body of the pain-locked Gallant was yanked out of her grasp. “Just lost my safety zone.”
“You’ve lost more than that!” Falco snarled, taking a telekinetic hold of the woman’s body.
“Not twice, Temple Dick!” Jocasta whispered, quick-drawing her blaster. She fired and was dropped; the Temple Chevalier had drawn his En-Blade in time to deflect her shot. She landed in a three-point stance, firing two more shots. Both were deflected and with a greater degree of skill than the rushed first attempt. Falco was ready for her now.
“Okay, asshole, let’s dance!” Jocasta barked, aiming with both hands and firing. She took only one shot before stepping to her left, moving her blaster in her left hand. Despite the pain it cost to use it, she took another shot. It was deflected centimeters from the man’s face.
“Damn if Z didn’t improve my left-handed shooting,” she thought as she stepped forward into a squatting lunge. She ducked a returned shot while firing another round.
The two danced against each other, Falco taking very few steps as Jocasta lunged, hopped and spun around him. She had to remain mobile to avoid the more deliberate deflections, but at least the spray of blaster fire scattered the bystanders. Over a dozen blaster shots and deflections were exchanged between the two. Falco even managed to send back a bolt that struck Jocasta’s gun. As promised, the directed energy barely registered on the look or the feel of the weapon. Suddenly, Jocasta stopped and glared at her opponent who moved his En-Blade about until he took another fighting stance; again the wind blew through his long hair, but he no longer looked stately. He glared up at Jocasta with a new hatred.
“Korsathian Pirate!” Falco hissed, recognizing the firing style.
“He never told me where he was from,” Jocasta replied. “He’s a damn fine shot though. So you get what you can while you can.”
“And this must be the first time you have faced a Temple Chevalier.”
“Honey, I don’t go checking corpses for glow sticks!” Jocasta returned as she tightened her grip on her blaster. “Ready for round three?”
“You can’t have more than ten shots left in that power-clip,” Falco assessed.
“Nine, but I only need one to ice your ass!” Jocasta huffed before firing another shot at the man. Again he deflected and she moved to where she was firing across her body for her next shot. Again Falco deflected.
“Rapid fire,” Jocasta thought as she drew her gun from her shoulder holster. She fired another blaster shot, aiming for his face. The Chevalier deflected once again as Jocasta leveled her second gun and pulled the trigger. To his credit, Falco blocked the first two rounds. The next ten tore into his chest and right shoulder. He dropped his weapon as his armour cracked. Blood started to show when Jocasta rested the barrel of her blaster across her right forearm, aimed, and fired. Energy sparked against her target’s chest as his body was driven to the pavement.
Jocasta’s arms dropped to her sides as her shoulders sank. She wiped her brow with her right forearm. “Whew! Scimitar was right. Those TCs are hard to take down! But it can be done. And where is that blue– What the hell?!” Jocasta cried as she spun around, guns at the ready. Her smaller pistol smacked the side of a foot, and a flying kick was knocked wide of its intended target: her head. Jocasta finished her spin as her latest target landed on the ground. She lifted her blaster to shoot the most recent addition to the fray, but screamed as something slashed into her back. She released both guns and stumbled as she turned. Out of her peripheral vision, Jocasta could see a slender man on her right wielding a slightly bloody single-edged blade. The back-slasher had a twin sister on Jocasta’s left side, and she wondered if both of them had cut her.
“Three on one and I can’t move,” she thought as she dropped to her knees. She lost all feeling in her upper body from the back attack. The man who had tried to land a flying kick looked familiar; the stare of his eyes… the sway of his shoulders as he moved… he was the one her First Mate had shot at the spaceport. He took a martial arts stance, glaring his hatred of Jocasta.
“You better not miss,” Jocasta warned as she felt sensation returning to her left hand.
“I won’t!” the man huffed as he yelled his attack. He took one step forward and Dungias landed on the man.
“Neither will I!” Dungias growled as he reached to his side, drew the larger flechette unit from the sheath behind Alpha’s, and produced his flechette sword. It took the form of a katana and Dungias ducked under the flying attack of the female. He stepped forward and engaged the Star-Stride. He came to a stop behind the man to Jocasta’s right who gasped and looked to his abdomen to see that he had indeed been cut and very deeply. He was dying, but before he could fall forward to the ground, Dungias was pulling his sword out of the chest of the woman. The Malgovi Traveler spun around and deflected a shuriken which had been thrown by the one he had landed on. The man could barely move, but he was nonetheless able to mount an offensive. Dungias leveled his katana toward the man and pressed a thumb switch. The sword lost all form as the flechettes flew toward the downed man, becoming three arrows before they pierced the cloth armour and flesh of his wounded body. Another button was depressed and the arrows became flechettes before they returned to their housing.
“Captain,” he called softly as he ran to Jocasta who allowed her body to fall into his arms.
“Two things, First Mate,” she replied weakly. “Don’t forget the bug man… and when do the damn classes start?”
Dungias smiled as he lifted the woman from the ground. “The damn classes begin as soon as you are able to attend, Captain.” He drew Alpha and walked over to the most determined of the martial artists. He touched his Osamu to the dying body and several electronic devices failed. Several arcs of electricity coursed their way to the smoldering Chevalier, causing one other device to spark and fail. Dungias could even hear a small explosion coming from the roof of the building where he had fallen.
“Satithe, are you now receiving me?”
“Master!” she shrieked. “I tried to warn you but–”
“All transmissions were scrambled, Satithe,” Dungias explained. “I can see a clearing just east of my current position. Can you put the lander down there?”
“Already en route, Master,” Satithe replied.
“How very helpful,” Dungias said as he approached the bound Nulaki. Using Alpha like a sewing needle, he worked his Osamu under the chains of the restraints and stood up carrying both his Captain and her quarry. “I hope you can forgive my tardiness,” Dungias said as they could both hear the lander’s engines.
“Hey, if that TC hit you like he hit me, I’m surprised you’re still walking and talking. I had a round jewelry pusher to break my fall, what broke yours?”
“The fifth, fourth, and third floors,” Dungias answered and Jocasta moaned.
“Do you think Mathari sent another team?” she asked. “No! No way a TC would be caught dead working for a gangster. And even if that one was, he wouldn’t have a Gallant with him. That’s not how they trek.”
“I agree,” Dungias stated.
“Then this Nulaki has got to be one serious heap of trouble.”
“I am fairly sure he has that opinion of us, Captain,” Dungias said in full confidence. “In which case, both perspectives seem to be disturbingly accurate.”
Jocasta chuckled. She could hear the workings of the gangplank. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you covered my ass back at the spaceport, Z.”
“Perhaps I should have aimed to kill,” Dungias considered.
“No, that’s not the way we do it,” Jocasta said, shaking her head. “Remember, you have to hold steady while I go all wild-child.”
“Thank you for reminding me, Captain. Let’s get you to the infirmary.” Jocasta closed her eyes and smiled at the thought of a soft bed. The lander-shuttle did not touch down, but it was low enough to where Dungias could step up on the gangplank. Jocasta could feel the ship slowl
y ascending and she liked the smooth touch Satithe had to her flying.
“There might be something to this auto-pilot after all,” she thought. “Just so long as it’s Satithe!
“Z?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Ow!”
“Yes, Captain. Ow.” He walked aboard and the gangplank withdrew into the side of the craft as the main engines fired up, pushing the lander off over the small city. Satithe had already engaged the main drives of the Xara-Mansura and piloted both ships to an advantageous rendezvous point behind the only dead moon in the Ziere System.
If there were no tribulation, there would be no rest; if there were no winter, there would be no summer.
John Chrysostom
(Rims Time: XII-4112.18)
Dungias stood over Jocasta for a moment, trying to quiet the chaos inside his mind. There were so many options, and even more feelings for him to process. The most pressing sentiment was the disgust that a student in the applications of ThoughtWill had masked himself and two other people from the perceptions of a Traveler. Apparently it was more than time that Dungias had lost and he looked forward to regaining his edge.
He looked up at the star chart and started thinking of the places he could take the Xara-Mansura where they would be safe until things were more to their… restored nature. He reached for the navigational controls, but stopped short of touching them.
“Would you prefer for me to engage drives, Master?” Satithe asked.
“It would be that easy, would it not?” he muttered.
“Master?”
“I spent so much time studying the region and its people,” Dungias continued, hardly hearing his computer. “… when what I should have been doing was setting up a means to review myself.
“Suspend Satithe,” he commanded and CK came to the forefront of the system.
“Are you sure you want to do this right now?” CK inquired. “While I don’t have access to all the surveillance measures, what little I do have is most revealing. You two have been busy!”
“Then let us keep everything to Rims-Speak, CK,” Dungias suggested. “Am I off my game?”
“Master, you wouldn’t ask if you didn’t have the answer already,” CK replied. “So the question becomes, do you restore the game you’ve got down, or do you pull a BJ and take a different trek?”
“No, my friend,” Dungias disagreed. “That is not the question after all, though I must say you are very close to the heart of the matter.”
“Wanna cut me in on what I’m missing?” CK asked and Dungias could actually hear a genuine desire to learn in his voice. He smiled for a moment and decided not to keep his rationale to himself.
“You two are learning so fast,” Dungias admitted. “I am not sure I was prepared for this rate of growth. But then again, I had no frame of reference… not for you and Satithe.” Dungias walked back to the regenerator and looked down once more on Jocasta. “I have all the reference I need for this one. I do, and it is time that I got out of the way of this woman… my Captain… and my friend.
“What you are missing, CK, is what most miss when matters of such grave importance come to greet them. You are missing the fact that my answer to those matters is mine and mine alone. I have no right to make that the answer for Jocasta. That would be the response of a parent who is holding on too tightly. I have yet to see such an incidence end well. Either the parent is exceedingly happy and later confused when their child wildly rebukes the world that the parent has defined… or the child matures to be only a fraction of what they could have and should have been. Like my loving Vi-Prin, Danatra, I have been hurling bits of data, expecting that data to do one thing and one thing only. All I should have ever expected… all I should have ever hoped for… is life! And if nothing else, Jocasta is living.”
“Master… I can’t… I don’t I have no words,” CK shared.
Dungias smiled as he nodded to the affirmative. “Then you are learning the most important lesson of your existence, CK: we will never know everything! It is a wasted life to lead when one hopes for anything to the contrary.”
“I will consider what you have said, Master,” CK replied. “Though it’s clear you’re right about Jocasta,” CK stated. “She’s very much alive. She’s so alive… it’s like a contagion!”
“Well said, CK,” Dungias smiled. “With great conviction I have argued I am not her father… but have I been anything else other than controlling and inhibitive?”
“Master…”
“No, CK, I have not done this with any measure of malice,” Dungias waved that thought away. “But when the trek I have taken brings me to the same woeful place, can my intentions truly serve as a protective or fortifying agent? No, they cannot.
“Who would have ever thought that No Holding Back would first apply to me holding her back?” Dungias theorized. “Truly it is past time to let go!”
“And your course change, Star Chaser?” CK asked in a tone that almost made Dungias straighten his back and square his shoulders. He caught himself in the initiation of the action and smiled at what CK had achieved with his intonation. At the same time, he had come to another conclusion which demanded action.
“Maintain CK and reinitiate Satithe,” Dungias commanded. “Satithe, this is your… yes, your kommis, your Vu-Prin… your brother! His name is CK. I named him in honor of–”
“BJ,” Satithe stated, coming quickly to the conclusion. “Master, have I failed you in some measure?”
“Hardly. CK was a safeguard security against the possibility of seeing another Kiaplyx. While that sounds logical and rational, ultimately, his creation was the product of fear and hope. That was yesterday. Quietly and most carefully, CK has become so much more than what I intended, just like his sister.
“Most recently, CK has been compiling information for me, and I believe he has bad news to share with me. CK, I would ask that you share it with Satithe before sharing it with me. I want a report compiled by the two of you, including your best suggestion for our response.
“But before that, I must apologize for my shortsightedness,” Dungias declared.
“Master, you commune with the Stars!” Satithe argued.
“One cannot perfectly carry perfection, Satithe. Even if it is water from a well, the moment the cup is inserted, the perfection is broken. Drink from the cup, one cannot draw the moisture that has been absorbed into it! A single entity can never be perfect. I am a Star Chaser and look at me. Can you not see that I need you, CK, and Alpha?! The Terrans have a saying that I believe serves this moment perfectly: perfection is a road, not a destination!
“My course change, CK, is simply this: initiate the sequence to change out Persephone for Jocasta,” Dungias commanded. “Do we have a full timeline accounting?”
“Every micro-second has been substantiated,” CK reported.
“Scans of Persephone are complete,” Satithe added. “All life-signs are exceedingly strong.”
“The biggest problem facing me now is–”
“Do you not mean facing us, Master?” Satithe asked.
“Yeah, what she said!” CK added.
“–is how we will take the girls from a shared existence to living life as two separate entities.”
“If I may be so bold, Master, while we’re waving a very pretty flag,” CK remarked, “we raise this baby too high, that pole’s gonna break! Simply put, these moves you’re considering, are they to make the girls feel better, or make you feel better?”
“I think I am envious of how integrated CK is with jargon and colloquialisms,” Satithe stated.
“Consider it sibling rivalry,” Dungias quickly offered. “That is not only Terran, it is universal! But please continue, CK.”
“Let’s not get so much into the moment that we forget that we’re here to do a job,” CK stated. “Let’s not forget the Star Quest: to save humanity. Isn’t it better to have a Human do the legwork?”
“But Jocasta and Persephone are not applic
able candidates. They’re pirates!” Satithe stated.
CK made the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Now hear this!” he said as he cued a holographic playback. It was a picture of only Jocasta’s face as she spoke.
“…they also love us because we do what they won’t or can’t.”
As soon as the statement was complete, the image faded. Dungias found himself standing there, learning from his children… all of them! His left arm was across his stomach and used as a perch for his right elbow as he touched the side of his curled index finger to his lips.
“Satithe?” Dungias said, giving her a chance to answer a very strong point.
“There is another saying among the humans, Master: the dog’s name is Tiger.”
“Indeed it is,” Dungias agreed. “Very well, our course is laid out… it is time to engage drives. How long will it take to prepare and awaken Persephone?”
“Given how long she has been in stasis, thirty-seven minutes,” Satithe replied.
“Very well, I will signal you when you should initiate the cycle. CK, I would ask–”
“I was going to request if I could stay out of the limelight,” CK asserted himself to speak. “Sis has got the spotlight thing down, and humans respond better to a female persona anyway.”
“You don’t want to talk to anyone but Master,” Satithe concluded.
“Okay, you got me. So we’re one a piece! Feel better?!”
“Much better,” Satithe replied and Dungias could not keep his laughter to himself. He was still chuckling when he left the room and made his way to the arboretum. He would have preferred to take his time and visit with some old friends, but there was too much outside his realm of control. Dungias made his way to the center of the chamber, where the Crystal Lily was kept. He had named it Sarukannah as kannah was K’Vo for an unborn or newborn child. The memory of the Passing Ceremony was still fresh in his mind, as if it had been performed only a day or so ago. He recalled what it had felt like, taking the shuttle ride with Nugar to the departure grounds. The device he had built was made to carry kommis and saytrah side-by-side; but it was not a machine per se. The stones he had worked into the framework acted like magnets of a like charge with respect to the gravity of the planet. They pushed against the surface, displacing most of the mass of the three bodies.
