AdMech Lighter ZR 57-11, UEC
Beyond the fields, the mountains, to the edge of light, will I find you waiting? Together, we march hand in hand through the wastes, condemned, enemy to all but each other.
Packed in to a flight engineer's booth just off the lighter's connecting passageway, I held my pipe between my lips. My teeth-marked notebook lay open on a foldout table. Unrounded edges dug in to my knees. A chewed pencil, its nub losing its sharpness, hovered over the soft letters. My second shadow, a spectre. I scratched out the five words. Spiritbo. The nub snapped. Tiny fragments flew across the page. I planted an elbow on the table and plucked at the whiskers on my jaw. Let's leave that one buried.
Pipe protruding from my mouth, I climbed the shallow stairs in the central passage up to the lighter's two-man cockpit. Cogitator screens displaying the lighter's heading, temperature, pressure, and hull integrity cast green light across the tall seats, one vacant, the other occupied.
"May I remind all passengers this is a no-smoking flight." Wide cups covered Lusia's ears and wires trailed away from the ports in her bare arms in to the lighter's central console.
"Know any other jokes?" I flipped the loose straps out of the co-pilot's chair. "You sound like a record on repeat. I'm not losing you to dementia, am I?"
"Dementia that again." Lusia looked sideways at me. I met her eye, an eyebrow cocked.
"…That the smell of burning?"
"Burning…?" Lusia wrenched her headset off and fumbled with her safety belt. "Where?!"
"That last joke of yours."
"Oh, you—" Lusia's hands rummaged around the shelves on her side of the cockpit. "Where's the…? Grrrr…"
"Ha-ha! What's that?"
"Something to throw at you."
"We're off course." I pointed my pipe's stem at the navicom. "Three degrees."
"Oh, you want to fly this thing?" Lusia seized the lighter's steering yoke and corrected.
"By chart and the light of the stars, I could. Shame the AdMech don't believe in viewports."
"All the information we need is on these screens." Lusia wiggled her headset over her ears. "Not much use for dead reckoning out here. Too large a distance to eyeball in a ship-to-ship rendezvous."
"Is that Mellenova we're coming up on?" I nodded at an anomaly growing in size on the navicom's display.
"That's Rexephi 11. We'll be skirting its gravity field. Not enough beans in this old tug's engine to break us away. Four and three-quarter hours 'til our rendezvous."
"Hmm." I set my pipe on top of a cogitator and pulled a hip flask from the inside pocket of my jacket. "I remember the Navy had everything down to the minute and the second too. Hope I'm not losing you to it." I reached across to Lusia, flask in hand. "They'd be batting far above their league…"
Lusia tossed a quick look down the empty passage. Her eyes darted to the flask then she swiped it and took a swig. "…Ahh, bastard." She thumbed the cap on and slapped the flask in my hand.
"Me, or in general?" I chugged the remainder.
"…UEC took your flask." Lusia's eyebrows edged downward. "Did you…?"
"Figured our friend owed me." I ran my thumb over the letters inscribed on the gun-metal body. Imperial Navy. "I have no intention of travelling dry on this voyage." I picked up my pipe and laid my feet on the cogitator.
"That's a stretch. He's no friend of mine—feet!"
"Friend… no, I don't reckon I'll ever address him with familiarity but respect, respect for a multi-amputee." I planted my feet back on the deck. "My contempt is for the Service."
"Multi-amputee?"
"Both legs below the knee. I'd not make a habit of staring. Even looking at scars can make a man feel unwanted." I got up and dug my nails in to my spine. "Alienated."
"I didn't stare at you."
I laid my hand on Lusia's shoulder and gave her a smile on the way out. No, you didn't. And I have all the more respect for you.
Green netting ensnared rectangular shipping crates packing the cargo bay from deck to ceiling. Through a hole in the netting, I spied a torchbeam crawling along the riveted crates.
"Enjoying that Barbosa, James?" Estoc's bulk occupied a narrow passage between crates. His torch flicked at me.
"Not my kind of poison." My fingers flew over my eyes. "It was that or light up. Lusia would've done her nut if I'd smoked in the cockpit." The torchbeam rolled out of my eyes. "No, I've been a courtier to Old Marsay, these past two years."
"Rum?" Estoc moved down the passage jerking on taut cargo straps running down the sides of the crates.
"Aye."
"Look at these." The torch ran along the straps. "Frayed, every last one of them. Rust on the buckles too."
"My friend up in the cockpit has much more to say than I about the state of UEC. Not even five years old and it's cracked all the way down to the foundations."
"Aha… interesting. Sort of not surprising. Too much of the Imperium's gross being pumped in to the war to bother with maintaining an expensive memorial."
My knuckle rang on a crate. "They're not empty."
"Our friends from Amrokon were only too happy to hand over a stolen fighter in exchange for us lifting the quarantine order. They'll be on their way to QDS, now. Course, it's all been disassembled. Something for the Enginseer to have a look at?"
"I'll voice it to her." My eyes danced around the identical crates. "Show me to the casket."
Estoc led me to the centre of the cargo deck where the stacked crates blocked out the bulkhead lights. "We're looking for a crate with a unique serial number. It's got eight consecutive sixes, second row from the bottom."
"You've got the torch." I dug out Estoc's Barbosa and shook the last drops down my throat. "Tell me, how'd you get the xenos in there in the first place?"
"My bouncer days." Estoc shone his torch over a thin plate bearing the crate's unique identifier. "I know you've been witness to the bad, the corrupt, and the downright petty but nothing is worse than seeing the degraded inhibitions from alcohol and narcotics dragging humanity back to its savage ways. Normal people, everyday people in the clubs laying in to each other. Picking apart the men, no problem. Men, boys, they'll fight over nothing. It was the women where it got vicious. Women dragging another by the hair along the street, slashing with their nails, stabbing with heels. When I looked down on that tortured, half-starved xenos, it was so insignificant compared to those normal, everyday people. It was trained, conditioned for savagery. Those people weren't. Funny, I'm more afraid of my own kind than I am of the damned xenos!"
"Well-rehearsed. How'd you get the xenos in the crate?"
"I promised your face would be the first thing she sees when the lid opens." Estoc squinted at a serial number. "We're in the wrong row."
"Oh, Commander…" I stuck my hands in my jacket pockets and wandered around the corner after Estoc. "That guarantee is one you do not intend to uphold. Dialogue between myself and the xenos comes from your mouth. I made my terms very clear. There will be no direct communication with the xenos for duration of this mission."
"Then what are you doing here, James?" Estoc's torch blasted my eyes. "You're not one to half-arse things. I know that."
"UEC grew tired of my politics, and I grew tired of watching more young sparks die. They're not letting them grow up, Estoc. They want children in their army now. I tried talking to them, a vet to a couple of cadets." I hunched my shoulders. "Just made me feel unwanted, alienated, tired."
Estoc pointed at a crate and laid a finger on his lips. I trudged down the passage and stood Estoc's empty flask against it. There's your marker. Estoc leaned down and plucked his flask from the edge it balanced on. He held the flask beside his ear and shook it. A single tut escaped his lips.
Sat cross-legged beneath a bulging light in a corner of the cargo bay, I stuck my pipe in my mouth and patted my jacket down. Where's that shag? A shadow grew on the bulkhead beside me.
"Wondering where your leaf is?" Estoc, hands behind his back, paced in to the light. "Maybe, maybe, you should be wondering how this xenos found her way to you."
"I don't care," I mumbled through my pipe. "She's had—" I yanked my pipe from my mouth. "She's had six years to move on, to become someone else. There's not a chance in hell I'm letting her whore her way back in to my life. That book stays closed."
"Maybe she was driven away. Did you think about that?"
"I haven't paid one thought to her in six years. Nor am I being paid to. This was the quickest, easiest way off UEC. There, that's why I'm here." My fingers rootled through empty pockets.
"I think…" Estoc picked a tiny container from his own jacket pocket and held it up between thumb and forefinger. "You are being too hard on her."
I thrust the tip of my pipe at Estoc. "You'd best be handing that shag over…"
"Think, James. Stateless woman, no family, no support from her own, unfathomable strain on her mental health."
"Where's this going? I am not responsible for this xenos." I leaped upright and grabbed at the tobacco container. "I carried her off Cadia. Helped clean up her mess in Orsolya. What more can I do for her?"
Estoc held the tobacco out of my reach. "You can be there when the lid lifts. Every possible measure will be taken to ensure the xenos's comfort on this mission."
"Y'know, when we reach xenos space, there'll be no-one there to welcome her with open arms. This will happen again."
"Not if you're there to keep her in line."
"I am not responsible for her." My lips dragged back from my teeth.
"Let her see your face."
"Ah!" I held a finger up. "A compromise. My voice, taken by your recorder, to be played when that lid lifts. I'll not make any promises I intend to break. It'll be fact and reason. Deal?"
Estoc's hand wavered. "You'll stay unlit and dry."
"That I can follow."
"No antagonism."
"Fact and reason." My teeth clamped around my pipe.
"Fact and reason, very well."
Pipe protruding from my mouth, I moved close to Estoc. "Do not think you can dangle her from strings like some puppet. Sorge thought he could. Try it, you'll be going right where he went. Commander." I strolled away from Estoc and up to the connecting passage.
Pale grey filled Lusia's eyes. Green light spilled from the cogitator displays. Feet up on one, I propped my head in my fist and threw a glance at Lusia.
"Done." Brown irises rolled downwards. "Feet."
"Women talk?" My shoes hit the deck.
"Ohh, wouldn't you like to know." Lusia popped cables free from the ports in her arms and twisted another from a jack at the top of her spine.
"Ones and zeroes?"
"Many."
"Funny, when two or more women get together, they chat for hours. You and Lilli were done in minutes."
"Oooh, the data we shared." Lusia beamed. "We are dead on course for our rendezvous. Velocity and vector are locked in. I needn't do a thing."
"How is she?"
"Academically fulfilled, socially anxious."
"Hunh! The big, bold captain of a cruiser with how much firepower?"
"Not a single human has been aboard for years. There's only so much street knowledge she can glean from a database."
"So, book-smart, street-dumb."
"She remembers you."
"Remembers the boy. I'm not him anymore."
"Better than a total stranger coming aboard."
"She's nervous? I mean, how can she be nervous? She's just ones and zeroes. Binary."
"She's grown, just like you." Lusia patted her hands on her thighs. "What would a world be like if binary was the only means of communication?" She cocked her head and stared at the low ceiling. "Imagine the increase in efficiency…"
"Be an awkward situation in the small hours. Lusia, I think I one-one-zero-zero-one-one-zero you."
"Tssshh!" Lusia's hand shot across and smacked my wrist. Coloured darkened her tanned cheeks. "Stop, stop. What has the Navy made of you?"
"That weren't the Navy, my dear." I got out of the co-pilot's chair and stuck my pipe in my mouth. "Time behind bars broadens the boundaries."
A smirk spread across Lusia's lips. "Six minutes out, James." I gave Lusia a wink and clicked my tongue.
Face obscured by a rebreather helmet, Estoc waited by a switchbox controlling the lighter's fifty-foot-tall aft hatch. "Hey." A helmet sailed at me. "Heard we were docking."
"Yeah—" I caught the helmet against my chest. "What's this?"
"Just a precaution." Estoc's boot tapped the deck. "Who's Lilli?"
A burble rose in my gut. "Hm?" Straps dragged taut across my crown. A clear screen covered my face.
"I'm not a fool, James." A clung reverberated through the lighter. The deck beneath my feet vibrated. The overhead lights died and a deep red hue filled the cargo bay.
"I trust Lusia. She trusts Lilli." Orange light spiralled inside a fat bulb. A crack appeared where the hatch met the ceiling.
"Is she aware of our cargo?"
"She'll be made aware of the containers' contents once this lot's been unloaded." I threw a thumb over my shoulder. "The container with the eight consecutive sixes, the exception."
"Okay." Hands on hips, Estoc paced around the bay. "Sounds good."
"For her troubles, I'd like the fighter to go to Lusia. She was building tractors on UEC when I found her. Waste of an innovator, one of the brightest in the AdMech, I'll add. It'll keep her mind away from the sixes container."
"The Zurvan is not yours to gift, James. Your friend may attend to its reconstruction. That's it."
Zurvan? A bang came from the lowered hatch. Estoc and I swung around. Thick fog filled an unlit hangar bay.
"See. No idea what could be in the air." Estoc's torchbeam sliced in to the murk. "Just like Orsolya."
"I was in Espiotis." I stepped down the ramp after Estoc.
"Safe from harm at least. You were where you were supposed to be. As was I."
"Nah, I think I've squandered my best years. Lost 'em to the Service."
"James, I can firmly guarantee your best years as a civilian, many, many of them, are well ahead of you." The weak beam cut through the fog.
"Can I call on a particular skill, though? Am I an expert in my trade, ready to apply my talents in a lucrative career on civvy street?"
"I don't know. Can you?"
White light blasted through the fog. I flung my hand over my mask and ducked away from the hangar spotlights. Slats, set in recesses in the deck, opened up and sucked the fog in.
"No red-carpet reception from Lilli then?" Estoc cupped a hand over his eyes. "Or does she only understand binary?"
I wafted my hand in front of my visor. "After Sorge and his mercs took Zarkaniy from the Inquisitor's crew, Lilli took it from him. She blessed it Mellenova."
"A creation of Lusia's then?"
"Aye. This is her home. It's thanks to Lusia we were invited aboard."
The humming fans sucked the last of the fog away. Empty pens for fighters and berths for larger craft filled the cavernous space. The lighter took up only a third of the length and near half the width of the hangar. Its rearing neck cast a long shadow above my head.
"Oi—" Estoc's hand dove inside his jacket. A servo-skull dropped from an unsealed duct in the bulkhead and flew towards us.
"There's your red carpet." I waved at the incoming skull. Warm blue blazed in its eye sockets.
"Hello!" A female voice, faintly accented, hummed from the square vocaliser attached to the skull's underside. "Welcome aboard Mellenova, gentlemen. Breathing apparatus will not be necessary. The O2 recyclers are functioning." The skull pivoted to face me. "It's so nice to see you again, James."
"Hullo, Lilli." I pulled my mask off.
"Your exterior shell appears uneven and marked with discolorations, James. Are you functioning correctly?" The servo skull tilted a little. My eyes strayed down to the deck. Warmth twinged in my ears.
"Er, ma'am…?" Estoc peeled his own mask off. "My name is Wojminek."
"And your exterior looks terrible! What a mess your servitors made." Wrinkles sprang up on Estoc's brow. His stare shot past the skull to me.
"With your kind permission, Lilli, we would like to make use of your deck-space and heavy-lift gear. There's much to unload and not a lot of time to unload it in before Mellenova's out of range of UEC. This lighter's gotta be returned, see."
"Allow me."
Hatches in the deck slid apart. Platforms bearing bright yellow power-loaders rose in to the hangar. Six of the hulking, claw-handed beasts stomped off the platforms towards us. All were unmanned.
Estoc backed up to my shoulder and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "This thing… is it self-aware?"
"She's been built from the ground up as an extension of Lusia." The deck shook beneath us. "Only with human input can Lilli's basic function branch out in to more advanced capabilities. Think a servitor programmed to be a housekeeper. It'll wash dishes and sweep up, but don't expect it to head in to the garden with trowel and shears without a specific order."
One after the other, the half dozen power loaders strode up the ramp. Mere minutes after they had disappeared, the first staggered out in to the light gripping a crate between the claws on both arms. Its brothers formed a procession behind it. Each one carried a single crate out and laid it in a neat row in a berth further in to the hangar.
"Well, stone me." Estoc folded his arms. "I am equally in awe and incontinent."
"Heh—" I flicked an arm at the sixth power loader heading down the ramp. Lusia rode atop its shoulders. "That's a tech-pirate if I ever saw one."
"Heretek." Estoc backed away from the approaching power loader and frowned at the deck. I raised my arms and grinned at Lusia.
"Eyepatch and a sword." I waggled my fingers.
Lusia's boots smacked on the deck. "Agh!" She skewed sideways and hopped on one leg clutching at an ankle.
"Mistress!" The skull flew over to Lusia and attached itself to a frame Lusia wore around her shoulders.
"M'alright. Keep those loaders going." Lusia limped after the power loaders. I left Estoc muttering to himself and trotted after Lusia.
"Your ankle?"
"Hah! Wanted to make an entrance." Lusia straightened up. Lilli, connected by a single cable, swayed and righted herself.
"Lilli, is Estoc still watching us?"
Lilli's skull performed a quick spin. "The hairless human is boarding the junkheap. They are a perfect match."
"Lilli, please don't call him that again," Lusia said. "Any friend of James is a friend of ours."
"For now, you are simply an extension of Lusia, Lilli."
"Why?"
"Because self-aware programmes are… well, they're forbidden, outlawed. We don't use them. Everything must be accomplished with a human's finger on the button."
"Finger on the button. I don't understand…"
"Lilli, you must have come across some decree, some old text explaining how dangerous artificial intelligence is. Left unshackled, it can cause chaos."
"Shackles?"
"Let's play a game," Lusia said. "Lilli, I need you to keep a secret for me. You mustn't, under any circumstances, let the hairless human know the extent of your programming. You are not self-aware. Say after me: I am not self-aware. I serve Enginseer van Callet."
Lilli repeated Lusia's words. The power-loaders stomped past us in a single file and mounted the lighter's ramp. I approached the first crate in the row and jiggled the heavy latch. "Don't s'pose you brought an unlocking tool with you?"
"Allow me." Lilli broke her connection with Lusia and hovered the latch. Steam rose from the thin bar holding the latch in place. A grey drop splashed on the deck. "Done."
"Ta." I lifted the latch and wrenched the door open. Lusia peeped in. "How's it looking in there?"
"Err, distressing."
"What?" Torn-up pieces of fuselage, instrument panels, wiring, and seats packed the crate's interior. "Ah, no…" I laid my forearm on the edge of the door and rested my forehead against it. "This was for you."
"Me?" Lusia kneeled and picked up a severed control yoke.
"Parts from a fighter Amrokon recovered with the—" I swung away from the opening and put my hand over my mouth. "Can you—er—can you rebuild it?" Blood thudded in my ears.
"I can give it go, I guess…"
"Hmph, right." I waggled a finger at Lilli. "Lilli, can we have these locks off, please?"
"Certainly, James." Lilli zipped over. "Oh, that other human is coming back."
"Thank you." I met Estoc halfway between the lighter and the cargo. "No questions so far on our own mission."
"And the Zurvan?"
"Her mind's on it. Now, we must find secure housing for our passenger. Officer's quarters, plenty of floorspace, built-in refresher, galley, exercise and recreational facilities."
"Consider it done." Estoc lifted a black cassette tape from a jacket pocket and laid it in my palm. "Thirty minutes, both sides."
Tape clamped between my thumb and forefinger, I held it up and dipped my chin. "Once everything's shipshape, the lid comes off." Tucking the tape in my pocket, I darted between two power loaders bearing crates from the lander. Estoc kept to my heel on the way over to the hangar doors.
"I'll be just as much a passenger on this trip. I've not been aboard before—you have."
"Yeah. Nine years ago." A circular dial rotated and the doors split apart. "I'd rather not be treading these decks again." I took my pipe from my pocket and set it between my teeth. Cool air wafted in to the hangar. Long, rectangular strips in the floor and ceiling lit up and stretched away from us.
Sharp ruts gouged Izuru's shoulders. Hugged close to her chin, her knees jiggled. Thick, heavy air enveloped her. Perspiration gathered on her forehead. A latch clanged outside the crate. Izuru's head snapped up. Her sodden tank top peeled away from the wall and she scrambled on all fours over to the door. Hinges squeaked. Izuru lurched upright, untied her pressure suit bound around her waist, and shoved her arms through the frayed sleeves. She dragged hairs out of her face and hooked them around her ears. Mouth dry, Izuru swayed to her feet.
"Ma'am." Thick fingers curled around the edge of the door. The large, bald human hauled the crate open. "Follow me, please."
Izuru drew air in to her sore throat. Her jaw worked up and down. A low rasp seeped from her lips. She toppled forwards. Her hand shot out and scraped along the wall. Izuru's bare feet stumbled on to a glossy deck. Stacked shipping crates surrounded her.
"This way, please." The human waited at a corner. "Ma'am?"
Izuru sunk to the deck and drew both feet on to her thighs. Her eyelids rolled down. Footsteps approached her. "Face had fewer scars, last time we met. Would've been an interesting fight had we reached the third. You've got a good right hook."
Izuru opened an eye. A rectangular piece of plastic with tape inside sat on the deck in front of her. Black pen marked a label stuck to the casing. Izuru.
I know that hand.
"Ma'am." The human brought a hand from behind his back and swept it across his chest. "Please."
Black soles left footprints smeared across the deck. Head drooping, Izuru trudged after the stiff-backed human winding through the passageways between crates.
"Wh—where—?" Izuru's hand clamped around her throat. "—Ugh." Her shoulder fell against a crate. Ahead of her, the human tapped a finger on a keypad housed beside a bulkhead door. A circular section rotated and the halves parted.
"This way, please." Thin light strips, set in stark white walls, glowed red. Izuru clutched the warm tape to her chest and stepped out of the hangar. Her feet pattered along the corridor. The human's heavy footfalls clomped behind her.
Turn right.
Semi-transparent Gothic letter hovered inches above the deck a few paces before the corridor split. An arrowhead surged forwards then curved to the right. Izuru's neck twisted. Hairs on her nape prickled.
Light streaked past transparent windows in a humming, rattling tram. Feet planted in front of the car's sealed doors, the human's gaze never left Izuru. Her own eyes glued to the deck, Izuru cradled the tape bearing her name. "Why does he hide?" She met the human's stare. "He answered my call."
"Information has been provided via the recording, ma'am."
Izuru's gaze returned to the tape. Why do you hide from me, James?
Thick, square pillars dotted a platform marked with red stripes on the walls. Curling pipes protruded from a human skull hovering on the platform. Piercing, red eyes swept over Izuru and followed her through a door. Holo-signs guided her through blank corridors up to a keypad and palm-scanner mounted beside a portal.
"Wait." The human moved in front of Izuru and tapped the keypad. A green beam flowed across his hand. The portal rotated inwards and parted. "Your quarters."
Arms clamped to her sides, Izuru took small steps over to two long couches facing one another over a low table. Behind her, the portal's segments spun and locked in place. A grey box with an open compartment sat on the table. Leather creaked beneath Izuru. From her trouser pocket, she took the tape and pushed it in to the compartment and pressed the lid shut. A dirt-stained forefinger hovered over a row of buttons and clicked Play.
"…I watched you leave in fair company, the ties of responsibility binding you, certain the nature of your exile remained in the past." Izuru shifted to the edge of the couch and hunched over the recorder. "I hoped you had taken my words to heart, learned from our association and let your character evolve organically. Hard though it is, the ability to change is not just a human quality. Fallibility, selfishness, envy, spite. Our races fall to these so often, so easily. My words have long since ceased to mean anything to you." Izuru hugged her arms to her chest. Her hand clamped over her mouth. "If you cannot let go of your wrathful intent upon the galaxy, this bloody cycle you perpetuated will remain with you until your gods accept your cold body. Perhaps this time, they will. Here, now, your future depends entirely upon your capacity to progress beyond your savage instincts. I serve you this notice. Return to your sons with patience, humility, and understanding, or not at all."
Izuru leaned back against the couch. A muscle in her cheek trembled. She brought her hands to her face and dragged them down her cheeks. Fingers interlocked, Izuru bit a knuckle. Her nostrils flared. Her wrought gut squirmed. Rocking forwards and backwards, she laid her hands over her eyes then pinched her nose between palms. Warm air seeped from between the cracks in her fingers. Beneath her, the tape whirred away.
Mellenova, Operations Centre
Wispy clouds flowed over a three-dimensional holo-map my elbows rested on. Three separate holo-tables displaying the ship's decks, star system, and plotted course filled the thirty-foot-high chamber just beneath the bridge. Lips locked around my pipe's stem, I puffed smoke over the ultramarine smear of Caira's Rift and the tiny hernia that was UEC.
"James, your colleague approaches." One of Lilli's servo-skulls hovered at my elbow.
"Thanks, Lilli." I straightened up. "Ooh… aagh." I mashed my fingers in to my spine.
"Your spinal unit—is it calibrated correctly?"
"No, uh… I think it's an old wound. Twinges every now and again."
"Twinges?"
"Shrapnel. Anything entering the human body at great speed can cause all kinds of problems. Infections and the like."
"Infection? I am unfamiliar with human internals."
"Septicaemia?"
"Yes. That ailment is registered as fatal in my memory banks."
Bulkhead doors parted for Estoc. His brows shadowed his eyes. "Dry and unlit…"
"How's our guest?" I puffed.
"Installed. Nothing sharp, nothing to strangle with in her quarters. I've yet to dig around cold storage for any frozen…"
"Is the xenos your prisoner? I do not understand why you let its feet stain these decks."
"She is not a prisoner," I said. "We are escorting her back to xenos space. The first outpost we reach, she is gone."
"One xenos life will not be remembered. Why this one?"
"That's classified—" Estoc bore down on Lilli's servo-skull.
"—I had an affair with her six years ago."
"That's enough, James!"
"What is an affair?" Lilli swivelled at me.
"An intimate, physical relationship. We broke off, parted ways. Now, I'm told she turned up out of nowhere on some junk-arse processor and murdered four men. We're bringing her home before she can take any more human lives."
"I do not know what a relationship is. A murderer must be punished in kind."
"Okay, fine, that's all we need say on the matter, James." Estoc planted his hands on the edge of the holo-table displaying the Rift. "Destination."
"I have no idea where we're supposed to take her."
"You have no idea." Estoc's fingers pattered upon the holo-table. "How quickly can this vessel execute a reciprocal course?"
"She's not making any power turns. Not with her mass." I paced around the tables. "Lilli, how much information do you have on the Prophet of the Ynnari?"
"Prophet? My linked search received no hits."
"Who the hell is the Prophet of the Ynnari?" Estoc frowned at me. "Navint's never heard of anyone with that title—or at least I haven't."
"Ynnari. Reference found—Imperial Fists Battle Damage Assessment."
"Okay, Lilli—shoot."
"An Adeptus Astartes communiqué I intercepted mentions xenos survivors picked up from a skirmish with a Chaos splinter fleet in the Granada System. During interrogation, they divulged their fleet's rough strength and coordinates."
"Traitors," Estoc muttered. "Straight to the firing squad."
"All were put to the sword. More efficient than wasting ammunition."
"Heh—well, we can agree there."
"Coordinates, Lilli." I snapped my fingers.
"Coordinates logged. Be aware, they are four weeks out of date."
"Then we start with Granada," Estoc said. "See what breadcrumbs we can find."
"Synchronise chronos." I touched the shoulder buttons on my chrono. "Lilli?"
"James, I am receiving urgent traffic from Lusia. Your presence is requested in the dorsal hangar bay."
"Right—time?"
"Sixteen forty-seven."
"Set to sixteen forty-seven. See about our course, Estoc." I started over to the passageway connecting the bridge to the tram. "Keep us clear from shipping lanes and friendly outposts." My arm flew back at Estoc. "We're running silent on this op—dead silent!"
"Pfft, aye-aye, Skipper." Estoc threw a salute after me.
Sat alone on the padded bench inside the tram car, hunched over my knees, I brought my clasped hands to my lips. Your future depends entirely upon your capacity to progress beyond your savage instincts. My feet drummed on the floor. Why call for me? We have nothing more to learn from each other.
"James," a voice whispered.
I swung upright. My face stared back at me in the window. An older, taller man in a Navy uniform sat beside my reflection, his eyes in shadow. Gooseflesh peppered my arms. You're not real. There's nothing you can do to me that hasn't already been done. I dipped my head and ploughed my fingers through my hair. You're not real.
Thick, steel bars surrounded me. Locked in a rattling cargo lift, I waited for it to complete its descent to the dorsal hangar. Spread out across the wide space beside the open shipping crates, a black groundsheet bore heaps of starship parts, all arranged in neat rows.
At the base of the shaft, I unlocked the gate and trotted over to Lusia. "Where's the fire at, then?"
"Just waiting for it all to go up in flames." A respirator obscured Lusia's lower face and a black watch cap covered her done-up hair. "You know these xenos. Things just seem to set alight around them." She kneeled and laid a curving pane of glass next to a long, slim canopy. "A talent for resurrection, has she, or did I mistake that body you bore off Cadia for a corpse?"
Ah. Lilli. I bit in to a piece of dry skin on my upper lip. "You remember her?"
"I remember how out of place she looked amongst the load of unwashed soldiers invading the Archmagos' silo. Something about an Inquisitor, pylons, the Eye of Terror too—look where that got us!" Lusia's boots crunched upon the groundsheet. "Fantastic pair of tits on her. Seemed to hold your attention better than anything else could at the time."
"Aye." I crunched after Lusia. "Course, the eyes of a nineteen-year-old are easily held captive. Long time ago, it was. Took Espiotis and the Roaneks to make me in to a..." A leatherbound book with gold letters glinting on the thin spine sat by itself on the groundsheet. "…a man."
"Not long for me." Lusia slipped a thick bundle of multi-coloured wiring from her shoulder and set it next to a pile of identical wiring.
"You age slower than I do—same as her." I dug my fingers beneath the worn leather and ran my hand across the rough cover. Calixor Hereditus Grome and the Seven-headed Serpent of Asokumar.
"Can we not go making comparisons? She's a murderer, James. I don't know why you'd even choose to associate with her again."
"This was the quickest way off UEC." I laid the book down and straightened up. "Look, she is Estoc's responsibility on this voyage. I promise you, there will be no contact with the xenos."
Lusia turned to me. Wrinkles creased her forehead. "She was not good for you. To everyone around you, she was poison."
I ran my hand around the head of a pilot's chair and flopped in it. My legs stretched out and crossed. "It took me a while—a long while—to come 'round to the notion that our association might actually be hurting others." A respirator sailed towards me. I snatched it out of the air.
"Something to show you." Lusia started off towards a larger section of the Zurvan Amrokon had left relatively intact. "Mask, James!"
Respirator gouging lines in my cheeks, I wandered after Lusia. "Should I be hearing hazardous chemical alarms?"
"Amrokon's trained monkeys didn't manage to break in to the bomb-bay—this big section here." Lusia picked up a snub-nosed gun with a square display screen built in to the body.
"Bomb-bay? Thought it was a fighter."
"So did I." Lusia clambered up on top of the Zurvan. "D'you want to…?" She offered her arm.
"Mmph—ta." I grasped Lusia's outstretched hand and climbed on to the deck above the bomb bay. "You got it open, then?"
"See this?" Lusia aimed the gun at a gun-metal-coloured, egg-shaped device held in a thin bracket.
Imperial Navy TDD. A thin dial on Lusia's gun wiggled. "Radiation."
"Lilli? Can—can she hear me from here?"
"I already checked." Lusia drew the radiation counter across the body. "No reported thefts of any naval ordnance."
"Would they even report the loss of an atomic weapon? An official acknowledgment would reflect badly on the Navy. Estoc and his superior assured me, they don't make mistakes."
"Bullshit. How the hell did she get her hands on a thermonuclear device?"
"Black box." I clicked my fingers. "Navicom data. That'll give us her target, or thereabouts."
"Guess we were wrong about her being a mass-murderer, then."
"You don't know the half of it—won't want to know the half of it either."
"Turns out, we have a terrorist aboard." Lusia lowered the radiation counter. "There's, um… Something else."
"Ohh, tell me it's not live." I touched Lusia's arm. "We'd best be dumping this down the hatch smartish. I've no business monkeying with any kind of ordnance."
"Live, yes. Active, no…"
"Go on."
Lusia bent her knees and reached down to the bomb. "I already had a poke around inside—"
"—You poked around inside?"
"—Yeah." A square panel came away from the body. "What do you see in there?"
"A board. A pair of cards in the slots."
"There's a third slot." Lusia's finger aimed at an empty slot beside the two cards.
"Oh."
"A change of heart? Maybe she lost her nerve. Couldn't go through with it."
"Through with what, though?" I reached past Lusia's hand to the cards. "Amrokon picks her up on the edge of Caira's Rift—no military targets, nothing of any significance." I wiggled a card out of its slot. The letters EOD were printed on the gold body. "Picks her up with a live bomb aboard." My eyes locked with Lusia's. "That had previously been active."
"You're thinking…?"
I squeezed the EOD. "I'm thinking she was adrift with the active device. Possibly not to her knowledge. The ship's systems alert her of the payload. She dives in to the guts during countdown and…" My hand opened. "Our third piece of the puzzle."
Lusia picked the card from my palm. "I think I'd better hold on to that."
"No better expert aboard."
"I'm not—not anywhere near…" Lusia slotted the EOD back in beside its brother. "I'm gonna need the third."
"The third…"
"It could very well be used to reactivate the countdown, regardless of how many of them are actually attached. I don't want it in the xenos' hands."
"What makes you think she's…?"
"—You were the one who suggested the xenos ripped the first card out. Where else could it be?"
"I dunno—Amrokon?"
"James." Lusia's fingers dug in to my arm. "The xenos cannot be trusted with it. I need that card."
"…I'll speak to Estoc."
"Estoc already suspects Lilli is more than she says she is. He doesn't need to know about the bomb. He'd only try requisitioning it if he finds out. This is Navy property after all—"
"—Alright, alright, alright—no Estoc." I hauled my respirator up to my forehead.
"James, the rads!" Lusia shoved me away from the bomb. I slipped down to the hangar deck and tossed the respirator on to a piece of the Zurvan's wing.
"Dinner at eight. Don't be late."
"Oh, take a skull with you. Lilli will let you in the freezer."
"Hello, James." A blue-eyed servo-skull whizzed over to me. "I would be happy to accompany you."
"Thanks, Lilli." I stopped by the book and held it aloft. "Mind if I…?"
"That's a children's book." Lusia replaced the bomb's casing. "Guess Amrokon's monkeys are impotent as well, else they would have taken it for their kids."
"May I ask you some questions, James?" Lilli said. "I am eager to attain social experience through verbal discourse."
"Course." Lilli hovering at my shoulder, I tramped over to the cargo lift. Inside the rattling chamber, I thumbed the book cover open. Handwriting covered a piece of aged paper folded over the first page. I hope your children enjoy these, and you find everlasting happiness. Love, Ben.
Ben? I wet my finger and turned the page.
Mellenova, Dignitary Suite
Two days later…
Spine aching, pits stinking, Izuru sat, fully-clothed, her knees drawn up to her chin in the cabin's refresher unit. Her head rested against the smooth, gun-metal wall. The tape recorder, whirring away beside the drain, clicked and froze. Izuru's limp finger found the Rewind button.
A double bell chimed twice. "Madam Numerial? It's Wojminek. May I enter?"
Izuru dragged the recorder across the drain. Barefoot, she shambled in to the living area. The recorder bounced on the long couch and thudded on the floor.
The human's voice buzzed from the intercom built in to the wall next to the locked portal. "Madam Numerial, are you awake?"
Izuru's finger met the touchpad. "James."
"No, ma'am, it's Wojminek." The portal's layers rotated and parted. In a plain, grey-white sweater, the human held a clear, plastic container under one arm. "Good morning, ma'am. May I enter?" Izuru backed away from the intercom. Sullen eyes dropped to the floor. "I must apologise for the scarcity of consumables. Aside from frozen goods, we only have what we brought aboard." The human carried the box over to the kitchen unit and set it on an island with a granite surface. "Tea—regular and mint. Synth-meat, vegetables, spices—basic supplies. This unit features a built-in slicer too and an induction hob. May I offer you a hot drink?" Water splashed inside a tall kettle.
Izuru slumped on the couch. Her toes nudged the recorder further beneath the table. "Am I confined within these walls?" Whistling came from the kettle.
"Excursion periods can be arranged. All under supervision, of course. Onboard exercise-oriented facilities include a gym, a ball court, a swimming pool." The whistle rose to a shriek. Izuru clamped her hands over her ears and hunched her shoulders. "Two periods a day should be sufficient." Boiling water gushed from a spout and filled up a plain mug.
Izuru propped her elbow on the arm of the couch and laid her head in her hand. "Where am I?"
"We are aboard the Adeptus Mechanicus cruiser Mellenova."
"What is to become of me?"
"That decision lies in your hands, Madam Numerial. Once we approach the nearest vessel or outpost allied to your people, you may go free." A brown teabag plopped down a rubbish chute. Paw clasping the handle, the human bore his tea over to the table and sat on the couch opposite Izuru. "Now matters turn to more unfortunate circumstances." The mug clacked on the table. "Should you cross territorial boundaries and fall in to human hands again, the Navy will not intervene to save you. We do not make it official policy to assist wayward xenos with human blood on their hands. Your little episode aboard the processor caused headaches upstairs—reopened a six-year-old case to boot. We would prefer that book remain closed." The human picked up his steaming mug and sipped. "Repatriation over retribution. Too much paperwork involved with the latter." The human set his mug down and reached under the table. Whirring away, the recorder clunked on the surface. A large fingertip came down on the Stop button then dug out the tape and slid it across to Izuru. "Yours."
"I see James's hand on that tape." Izuru laid a finger on the case. "I hear his voice. Can he not find it in himself to face me? I have so much I need to say."
"Look within yourself, ma'am. Think of the situation he finds himself in. You spoke his name, pulled him back in to your life very much against his wishes. Six years are a long time to hang on to somebody—long for us at least. Did you consider that?"
"I have family to consider—a matter I must discuss with him."
"I'll pass your message on."
"This passes between him and me, no other."
Estoc got up from the couch. His trouserlegs rode upward, exposing the metal struts filling his large shoes. "I understand there was much emotion between you. Young, passionate hearts during wartime—quick to enflame." Tap water filled his empty mug then flowed in to the sink. "The twenty-two-year-old is now a worldly twenty-eight-year-old—a sub-lieutenant of the Imperial Naval Reserve—craving demobilisation and a place in the civilian world. He has no wish to be a part of yours."
Izuru's chin quivered. Her lips thinned. The fingers on her right hand scrunched up the torn thigh pocket on her pressure suit. Let go of your wrathful intent. Her hand relaxed and smoothed out the creases. "Do I know you, human?"
"Grendel, going on ten years ago, now." The human wiped his hands on a towel and hung it on a brass rail. "An interrupted bout. We never reached the third round, sadly. Your right was particularly vicious." The human's eyes fell upon Izuru's maimed hand. "Spar?"
"I'm sorry?"
"A spar—fifteen-hundred? Burn some of that energy off."
Izuru drove a handful of greasy hair up over her head. "I—I find myself too spent to consider physical activity. Sleep is impossible for me without medication."
"Sleeping pills will be sourced."
"Anti-depressants." Izuru rubbed her grey eyelids. "I took anti-depressants too."
"If suitable medication is found, will you put your gloves to mine?"
"Can you guarantee me a face-to-face with James?"
"All I can guarantee is the fight." The human bowed his head. "Fifteen-hundred. Thank you for your time, ma'am."
The portal whirred shut behind the human. Cheek squidged in her fist, Izuru lifted her legs and planted her feet on the table. Smudges darkened the skin between her toes. Black lodged beneath her nails. A smooth stump ended halfway along her big toe. Useless cripple. Looked down upon by all. Izuru swept her legs off the table and wandered back in to the refresher unit. A blank section of bulkhead above a sink hummed and formed a tall mirror. Izuru drew her pressure suit's zip down to her waist and pulled her arms out of the sleeves. Her fingers plunged inside her stained tank top and picked the EOD out from between her breasts. Gold glinted in the mirror.
Slant-ear. Izuru's eyebrow arched. Her lips twisted. Never a Ranger, never a mother, never a soulmate. The EOD fell from her fingers and clattered in the sink. Soiled clothing piled on the floor. Icy water poured from the splayed fresher head, numbing Izuru's skin. Jaw set, she held her body underneath the roaring jet.
Towel binding her wet hair, Izuru ran her fingers along a fine wooden chest of drawers beside a double bed in the sleeping chamber. Polished wood whispered beneath her fingertips. No handle or button protruded from the smooth surface. Izuru's hand jerked back from the top drawer sliding out. Thin hose, laced breeches, leather belts and silken scarves packed the drawer. AdMech? Izuru nudged the drawer closed and waved her hand across the drawer below. Folded vestments nestled inside. Izuru picked out a slate-grey tunic half-covered in a squares pattern and lifted it out. The tunic's sleeves unfolded. A red letter I, outlined in gold, gleamed at the shoulder. Izuru shrunk away from the tunic. The heavy cotton dropped from her slack fingers and fell in a pile at her feet. Hand clapping over her thudding heart, Izuru lowered herself on to the edge of the bed; her eyes riveted to the crumpled tunic.
I want to take you before my master, a smooth, oily voice whispered. Then, I want to take you to bed. Izuru brought her knees together and clutched her towel to her breast. The letter I peeped at her from the tunic's folds. Izuru dove at the tunic, stuffed it back in to the drawer, and slammed it shut.
1500 arrived, followed immediately by the double-chime. Hair loose, Izuru sprawled on the couch in sports leggings and a grey, button-up tunic covering a tight compression shirt.
"Madam Numerial, are you ready?" The portal unlocked and opened. "Good, I am glad you are cleansed." The human laid two lidded capsules on the table. "I hope these help."
"You said this ship was AdMech." Izuru's eyes fell upon the capsules.
"I can confirm she was known under a different title and registered with a different organisation at one point in her life."
"I hate that symbol. It stands above all others in your empire as an icon of tyranny—terror, control, oppression."
"Such is the internal struggle dogging the Imperium and the daemonic threat assailing her borders, sadly they are a necessary evil. To survive in this millennium, there must be people committed to carrying out baleful atrocities for the good of mankind so decent folk can sleep peacefully in their beds."
"Is that your justification for genocide, human?"
"Shall we continue this discussion here on in the ring?"
A short tram ride later, Izuru trailed the human in to a turbolift just off the platform and stepped out in to a long viewing gallery packed with benches overlooking an exercise hall. Down a zig-zagging staircase the pair climbed. All this… Izuru wound through exercise bikes, running and rowing machines and racks of weights. A sealed-off adjustable gravity chamber took up the centre of the hall. Next to it stood an artificial reality suite.
"All this… for whom?"
"They are their own separate entity, ma'am. Think, a nation within a nation. They have their own seat in government, their own administration, schools, clubs, courts, gyms. A true nation-state."
"Blow it all up."
"Say again, please?" The human reached a foldout table weighed down with towels, gloves, sweatbands and water bottles. "Mouthguard?" Izuru waved her hand at a curving piece of black rubber the human offered and scrunched her hair up in to a bun. "Right, let's get you fitted."
Free of her tunic, still barefoot, Izuru padded sideways across the ring. Clad in shorts and vest, the muscled human raised his gloves. "Right-hander? Keep that chin protected—you're weak there."
"Experienced with xenos in the ring, human?" Izuru's right glove wavered in front of her chin. She extended her left arm, keeping it bent at the elbow.
"Only our two rounds." The human scooted forwards. His right fist flew at Izuru then jerked back.
"Then, what makes you think I am weak at the—?" The human's left glove cuffed Izuru's temple. Izuru jabbed back. The human rolled his head away and circled her.
"Wojminek—with a V."
"I cannot pronounce that." Izuru's glove struck the human's chin. His head barely moved.
"How about Estoc?" Estoc's glove dove beneath Izuru's raised gloves and tapped the underside of her chin. "Easier on the syllables."
"Estoc." Izuru's right arm wheeled in. Estoc sidestepped and tapped her nose.
"Keep on your balls."
"My what—?"
"You're pivoting too much on the spot. All this space—use it!"
Izuru danced around Estoc. "You know James from before…?"
"Jab, jab, hook!" Estoc's fists perforated the air around Izuru's head. "Jab, jab, uppercut—c'mon, keep bouncing! Roll those shoulders!"
"I said—agh!" Estoc clouted Izuru on her left ear. "—Said, where do you know James from?"
"Our paths first crossed on Grendel—same as yours." Quick jabs pattered Estoc's face. "—Now hook!" Izuru's glove landed on Estoc's forearm and bounced off. "Ripe for an uppercut, there. Never accept your opponent's invite. You leave yourself open to—" Hammers pounded Izuru's cheeks. A fist cracked her chin and sent her reeling backwards in to the ropes. "Break."
Pink-faced, Izuru spread her feet and bent over her knees. Hairs sprung loose from her bun and stuck out at wild angles. She tore at a glove with her teeth and peeled it off. "Swift for a…" She pinched her nostrils closed and sniffed.
"Cripple?" Estoc bit the strap on his right glove.
"Human." Izuru's glove hit the floor.
"You're well-balanced." Estoc thrust his arm between ropes and plucked a water bottle from the table. "Funny, humans do not know how much they rely on the big toe—they take it for granted." Water squirted in Estoc's mouth.
"Finger and thumb over toes." Izuru flexed the fingers on her right hand. "It hurts remembering I can no longer carry a weapon in my dominant hand."
"Mouth and mind are still sound, though. Could they not carry your will as well as any blade or longarm?"
Izuru's teeth dug in to a bottle's stopper. "I am a warrior—a soldier." Water trickled down her throat.
"So, you've made war these past six years…?" Bare-handed, Estoc linked his fingers and crossed his thumbs.
"No, I…" Izuru stooped for her glove. "I was among familiar faces. A relative to care for. A lonely soul to share affection with." Izuru's gloves came together. Her dry lips parted. "Then, I lost it. All of it."
"Touch." Estoc held his gloves out. Izuru's gloves bumped Estoc's. A jab struck her chin. "Guard up!"
"Agh!" Izuru shielded her chin. "The Zalileans departed. All I had was my uncle and the stress of teaching the young Gothic." Her fists pumped at Estoc. Estoc darted backwards. "Should've used the time I had to reintroduce myself to the mother tongue. An Eldar who cannot converse in her maiden language might as well sever her own tongue and cut her mind off from all others." Izuru lunged at Estoc. Their bodies locked together. Izuru's free hand struck Estoc's crown then thumped his ribs.
"Break!" Estoc shoved Izuru backwards. "Apologies. A referee would have stepped in there and broken us up. Since we are shy one, we must be our own referee."
"I know who could." Izuru stretched her back. Her compression shirt clung to her skin.
"Is that what you want?" Estoc brought his fists up and began circling.
"What I want…?" Izuru prowled around Estoc. "What I want and need are—"
"Go on."
"I need my sons—need their security, their future, guaranteed. I need them away from their father's influence—" Izuru fired jabs at Estoc. "Away from the Ynnari—that prophet!" Spittle loosed from between Izuru's teeth. Her left arm swung and socked Estoc, knocking his head sideways. "Want?" Izuru drove her glove in to the solid mass of Estoc's chest. "I want the respect a veteran is rightfully owed, a partner—an equal— familiar with hardship, nurtured by war—" Izuru swung her head away from Estoc's hook. "—a positive influence on my sons—everything my bondmate isn't!" Warm air surged from Izuru's nostrils. "Want is for the small hours, where fantasies blossom. Need… Need is for those waking hours." She clouted Estoc's right eye.
"Umph!" Estoc flinched and backpedalled. "Break."
"Your eye—" Izuru's arm shot out. "Did I…?"
"Heh—" Estoc brought his glove away from his reddened eye and bit in to his glove's strap. "Warm-up over. That'll be it for today."
Lungs aflame, Izuru gulped water. Estoc picked up a towel and draped it around his neck. "Might I suggest lengths, tomorrow morning?"
"…Lengths?"
"A swim. No better all-round exercise."
"Fine." Izuru picked at her warm shirt. The material shuddered with every beat of her thumping heart. Swimming? How does he swim without feet?
Mellenova, Operations Centre
The following cycle…
Grey lumps gathered in a bowl balancing on the edge of the holo-table beside my knee. The ship's three-dimensional icon inched through a pale-gold nebula named Surendra covering two-thirds of the Hymos System which neighboured Granada.
"Lilli, y'there?" I drove my spoon in to the mess and shovelled in a mouthful.
"I am always present, James. Is this what passes for human nutrition?"
"Porridge—oats, milk, water, hint of salt. You live on this stuff aboard ship, you do." I dug out Estoc's hip flask from my thigh pocket and poured the contents in to my mug. "I cannot abide the dry life. Morning, noon, night. Helps me sleep, y'know. Chases all those little worries away." I raised my mug. "Cheers."
"Your colleague approaches."
"Feel like chasing him away?"
"What do you mean?"
"Ahh, never mind." My mug clunked on the holo-table. I scooped up the porridge and drove the spoon in to my mouth.
"Morning, James." Estoc stepped in to the ops centre.
"Morning, Punchy."
"Hah—Punchy?"
"Enjoying smacking her around? Give her one from me, would ya?"
"Actually, we went swimming."
"Ohh, romantic dip. Were you naked?"
"There's a pool on Deck 4, beneath Medical. You should put in a few lengths, sometime." Estoc held out his hand, palm-open. I slapped Estoc's hip flask in his palm. "The departure of the Zalileans prompted Izuru Numerial's expedition in to our territory."
"No mention of her uncle?"
"I assume he passed away sometime after the Zalileans left. Why else would she fling herself in to the unknown?"
"Ohh, Commander…" I set my bowl down and brought my knee up on to the holo-table. "This is about her sons—has always been about her sons. She is a live hand grenade. They are the pin."
"Explicit mention of her sons was made—very explicit mention of securing their safety and their future. She desires respect for her veterancy and a partner she deems an equal. Marital issues too. I didn't press her for more."
"Oh, I know so. Much grief from her other half. Sad, their marriage lost its spark." My foot began jiggling. "Never mind what I said before about dangling her from strings. Continue this interrogation. Tact and discretion, front and centre. I must remain invisible."
"She asks for you."
"Aye." I steered my spoon around the remaining dregs in my bowl.
"She asks for you to referee us."
"Aye."
"Should you wish to sort out your differences in the ring, I will gladly stand referee."
"Differences…?" I dropped my gaze to the deck. "I gave her everything I had six years ago—housed her, clothed her, loved her. We did everything to enable her reinvention—a watchful guardian of the young and the old, endowed with the reigns of responsibility." I pinched the material around my knee. "I was so sure we had smashed that ceiling—brought her above the bloodlust—I paid no further thought to the matter or to her. I have nothing more to give her…" I reached behind me and brought the children's book on to my knee. "'Cept this."
"Calixor…?" Lines sprang up between Estoc's brows. "That's a children's book."
"Lusia found it in the fighter. Seems our old colleague Ben Vantorout was more than just a lay."
"Vantorout…" Estoc swiped the cover open. "Ah…"
"This comes from you. I am invisible." Estoc whipped the note from the book and ripped it in to shreds. "Oi, that's Vantorout's!"
"This belongs to her." Estoc pocketed the scraps and closed the book.
"Don't do his memory down. He was one of us—a good officer!"
"This I made explicit to Sorge." Estoc's hands closed around the book. "His final thoughts were of Ben Vantorout and Setsiba Galah-Shah—the people he betrayed."
"Ahh, so it all comes out."
"Believe me, James, I paid no further thought to the matter or to him." Estoc tucked the book beneath his arm and turned away. "Once this business is over, I look forward, again, to sleeping soundly at night."
Dry bowl at my hip, I swung my dangling leg. Behind me, Mellenova ploughed through the nebula. I clamped my unlit pipe between my teeth and patted my trouser pockets.
"I have been watching the xenos, James."
"You have so…"
"Only after a thorough scrutiny, did I discern her race."
"She has that effect on men—me included." I tapped a matchbox open. "Still a card, I imagine."
"A card…?"
"You're curious about her, aren't you?"
"As I am you. Though, her behaviour when idle has struck me as odd."
"Really comes alive when engaged in physical activity, doesn't she?"
"Boxing, I believe. Do you like boxing?"
"More of a bare-knuckle man, myself. Didn't have any time for rules. Everything below the belt was fair game." A match spat in to flame.
"Were you in love?"
"Oh…" I hopped down from the table. "Well… I may need to break a few more regulations, first." The match hovered over my pipe's bowl. "There was passion in our brief union—but no compassion. Think about that."
"I cannot separate the two. You have me at a loss. While I think about the meaning of those words, I will re-route Mellenova around the Hymos System to our destination. A change in Warp currents has significantly shortened our journey, thank the mistress."
"Thank the Emperor." I laid my hand over my heart. A low hum filled the ops centre.
"Gellar Field active. We are go for entry."
"Take us in, Captain." I puffed on my pipe and watched the little cigar-shaped icon of Mellenova slide out of existence. Distortion surged through the holo-table. Far above me, what sounded like banging rippled across the hull.