Chapter Nineteen
"How are you feeling?" - Jamella Couture asked, with a smile, sitting by the bed in the ship's infirmary.
Irwine's expression was one of annoyance mixed with resignation, as he glanced at his heavily immobilised shoulder, in a regenerative bio-cast.
"Two days of sitting on my ass, and I'm already going stircrazy. And now with this trip to Moscow tomorrow, I really wish I could join in. I don't like her being out there on her own. Bratva support or not. They're animals. Respect or no, not the kind of backup you want on an assignment." - bluntly.
The girl grimaced... remembering the scene in the gym earlier today, with Yelena agreeing so readily to a drink invite from the sargeant.
"Umm... did she come to see you today?" - she decided to start slowly, feeling him out.
"Yeah. A couple hours ago. Why?" - he frowned, noticing the young woman's tightness of expression.
Jamella bit her lip, not meeting his eyes.
"Did she... uh... say anything about... umm... this afternoon?"
The man's frown remained.
"You mean the sparring session? Yeah, she told me she tried out some of the grappling moves we were working on. The whole thing about relying too much on augmetic-assists, I'm glad she's taking it seriously. Getting caught-out in the field while EM-spoofed, is a serious problem for her setup. Especially since the whole thing with the Bratv-" - as the girl interrupted, suddenly unable to beat around the bush anymore,
"Did she tell you she went out with the guy, after?!" - in a venomous hiss, and a glare.
Irwine laughed, getting it.
"Is that what this is about?! You thinking she's cheating on me or something? Yeah, she did." - turning serious. The young woman blinked in confusion.
"B-but... I mean... aren't you guys – you know..."
He sighed.
"I'd like to be, Jamella. But you've got to understand that with Yelena, there's no simple definition of a relationship. She's a complicated individual. I care about her. And I know for a fact she cares about me. She saved my life back during our first assignment. Literally. Back in Mayrhofen, she literally vetoed the attempt to get her out, without me along. And I can tell she loves me the way I love her."
"And yet she's messing around with other guys behind your back?! What kind of love is that?" - the girl growled.
"The kind that understands what she's been through, and how her mind works sometimes. The kind that doesn't see just the surface." - he replied adamantly.
"And the term – behind my back – implies I didn't know about it. Like I said, she told me. So I do know. And it went beyond drinks, for your information." - he smirked.
"I don't get it. How can you be so... accepting... of it?" - Jamella shook her head.
The man considered his words.
"I was in what you might call a toxic relationship. Possessiveness, jealousy, stalking, all the assorted crap you get. Multiple times. And I've learned one thing. Insecure women in need of validation, are the worst deal imaginable. Drama queens, needy, dependent, life-sucking, petty... dumping them was a revelation. And until I met her... I didn't think I'd ever get involved with someone again. That's how much I was sick and tired of that bullshit." - bitterly.
"Yelena is on the other side of that spectrum. She's about as... secure... as you can get, without being a robot. At least most of the time... She owns herself, without needing anyone to feed her self-worth. And she's been through the kind of... insanity... that makes her appreciate the straightforwardness of things. Yeah, she messes around. She told me she made a habit of sleeping with guys subordinate to her in the Tyrants, just for kicks. Basically forcing herself on them. Her – revenge – for being systematically raped during her training-" - he bit his lip, suddenly realising he may have let out too much.
"What?!" - the girl gasped.
He shook his head adamantly.
"Yeah... back to what I told you back then – not my place to say. That's as much as you're gonna get, and it's already too much. Bottom line, Jamella... Yelena's hard-as-nails, complicated, and if you wanna know about it, talk to her. I know why I care about her, and monogamy doesn't enter into it. She's honest, direct, capable, fearless, steady under pressure, and dependable. And at times... very kind and empathetic, actually. Believe it or not. I always know exactly where I stand with her. What I see, is what I get. No subtext. I also know why she cares about me – because I accept her for who she is, am an occassional emotional support when her mental barriers fail, and don't judge her. She can go out with whoever she wants, and she made it clear she doesn't care if I do the same. We're in an open relationship, and frankly I'll take that, over the opposite, and the unending drama that comes with it. I've been there. It's NOT fun." - before he chuckled evilly.
"Though I promised I'd kick her ass harder then he did, when I recover! Well. Kick, and... other things. My own... revenge!" - with a wink.
Jamella rolled her eyes.
"TMI, Irwine... but – fine. You guys do... you." - she shook her head, walking out.
In the ship's armoury and tactical equipment section, Yelena was going over the inventory manifest. Her prized thermoptic armour suit, while recovered along with most of her belongings aside from weapons, during her 'extradition', was undergoing repairs for the considerable ballistic damage it took during the assignment. It certainly did it's job... but at the expense of maintenance. The techs estimated it would be a week or so, before the suit was back to mint condition.
Which meant she would have to make do with a regular combat armour vest, and whatever segmented plates fit her shoulders and sides, that wouldn't interfere with mobility, during the Moscow assignment. Also that her cloaking autonomy would suffer somewhat, as a result, since it relied on the suit's thermoptic matrix to a degree.
Just like back in Gorelovo. Except at least these models are more advanced. I would take a Grayscale-grade full suit, but it would not fit my legs... and of COURSE they have none in my size!
She thought with a grimace, feeling very... shopping-anxious. Then again, it was to be expected. Her built and frame was very much – unique. During her time in the Tyrants, her armour suits were custom-manufactured for her, as was the case with every Tyrant member, and she went through quite a few of them, during her many assignments. Thinking back, she figured the cost of all those thermoptic outfits could probably be measured in tens of millions. At least. That made her smirk.
I may have been a tool... but they must have paid through the nose to keep me maintained! Not that they did not get their money's worth, of course...
The smirk collapsing into a disgusted expression, as she pushed the memories aside.
The Collective was far from poor, but... their resources could not even begin to compare to the cabal-backed machinery of corporate interests she worked for, as a Tyrant. She knew that relying on custom-provisioned armour on-demand, would likely not be a thing. And at times like these, where her suit, which the Collective no doubt had custom-made for her, was unavailable and under refurbishment, she'd have to improvise. She was grateful that her systems' maintenance needs were at least met, consistently. Anything else – would be asking for too much.
Improvisation was a valuable skill.
Finding a camo-patterned composite chestplate, a front and backpiece connected by latches, that looked about the right size, she took it, and looked it over. Then tried it on. It fit adequately, if not completely snugly, especially over her chest, reaching down to just above her waist. With some padding, it would do, however. Satisfied, she moved on down the lines of stands, looking for armplates and shoulderpads. Nothing immediately caught her eye as suitable, at least not without a couple of hours' worth of time with a soldering iron and welding torch. And she very much doubted the quartermaster would let her butcher a perfectly good Grayscale-grade combat suit, just to make ancillary plates.
Hmmm. I do not want to resort to soft armour, but... several layers of kevlar will suffice, for arm protection. Besides, it is to be a mainly non-combat assignment... just a meeting. Hopefully...
She thought, taking a couple of kevlar vests, and extracting the content of the plate-carriers. Thinning them, layering them, and stitching them together into sleeve-pads to wear over her jacket sleeves, would not be too hard. A couple more, to wrap around the shoulders... and she would be set.
I could even inlay the sleeves with them, if I can layer them thinly and flexibly enough... now that's a thought! Not just for this assignment – but in general.
Soft footsteps at the far end of the aisle, audible only to her cochlear implants, made her look in that direction, as her hand automatically went for the Zenith in her hip holster, on long-ingrained reflex. Even in ostensibly friendly surroundings, the woman's instincts never slept.
She relaxed when she saw who it was, shaking her head to herself, and turning back to the equipment racks.
"We seem to be running into each other more frequently lately. Something you want, Jamella? I will not ask how you even received authorisation to come into the armoury sector." - over her shoulder, as she moved off, to the armaments section.
"You're seriously asking how a career hacker, and the chief of electronic security for this place, can get access anywhere she wants on this boat?" - the young woman smirked.
Yelena had to chuckle.
"Good girl. Just do not let Quinn find out – he will spank you for it!"
"You... don't care?" - Jamella frowned. The aquiline woman glanced at her.
"Why should I? You are no threat. And the time where I cared about military protocol has passed. Yes, I hold a command rank in the Collective, but... honestly, I wish I was not given one. It is just a – reminder. I'm here because it... suits my goals. And because I repay my debts." - then smirked.
"If this were a year ago, and you were an employee in one of the Tyrants' bases – I would have killed you immediately if I found you in a sector you did not have authorisation for. Back then, protocol was... almost the only thing I cared about. And our operational security was - inflexible." - darkly.
"Lucky me." - the girl blanched visibly, swallowing hard. Sometimes, she... almost forgot who she was talking to.
Yelena noticed, feeling a little... guilty. She smiled at the younger woman.
"Relax! We are a long time past that, and I'm not that person anymore. What do you want, anyway, that you couldn't come by my quarters and ask later?" - curiously.
The girl stammered, "I mean, yeah, I... I guess I should've. But I just talked with Irwine and-" - she trailed off, suddenly realising she let slip too much.
The taller woman's eyes narrowed in annoyance, instantly putting two and two together.
"...and probably felt stupid after you made a 'big' revelation about how I'm cheating him. Am I close?"
Jamella forced herself to meet that gaze.
"I thought you wouldn't tell him! I assumed-" - she was interrupted.
"You assumed you know anything at all, about our relationship. Never assume. Now let me make a few more educated guesses on what else you assumed, little girl: One, that I'm a disloyal whore. Two, that I do not love him because I separate genuine feelings for someone, from spur-of-the moment lust for someone else, after a good fight. Three, that I can't love him." - she crossed her arms. In her sharply-accented English, the words sounded even more pointed, as Jamella literally took a step back from the intensity of that shaded glare.
"I... I shouldn't have made assumptions." - Jamella looked down.
She was surprised when Yelena chuckled... almost a giggle.
"At least the first one is half-correct. I am a whore. But far from disloyal. Lust is something that shouldn't be connected with love, in my view. It is it's own separate thing, Jamella! And now that Irwine isn't around to satisfy me, someone has to! If that someone can also take what I'm dishing out, even better!" - turning to walk off, towards one of the weapon racks.
There, she picked up a modified TMP that caught her eye. Checking the action, she could notice that it was fitted with a heavier firing pin then standard. She primed it, confirmed it was empty, then tested the trigger-pull, several times.
Interesting... light trigger, shorter pull, but heavier pin? I need to try this at the range. Lower cyclic rate-of-fire was always something I wanted when using these. Less reliance of harmonic stabilisers to stay on-target. No need to switch to semi when I want to let off single shots... less time wasted... less ammo wasted. And I can probably use +P pressured ammo in this, without risk of jamming, since the pin is more robust. Somebody had the right idea here! Please tell me there is another one like this...
She thought, adding the weapon to the bundle, then examining a few more TMPs. None of the others were modified in the same way, but she figured she could duplicate what was done to that one, if she could find matching parts.
"I mean... I guess that's... uh... one way to see it." - the young hacker's nervous chuckle came from behind. The woman's... unapologetic directness... was both appealing and intimidating.
"Anything else you want?" - Yelena threw over her shoulder, dragging the equipment cart behind her.
"Uh... why... why do you want people to not forgive you? I... don't understand. Does it make the – the guilt... easier to live with?" - quietly.
At the question, the cyborg woman frowned. That was a surprisingly insightful question. She walked a couple of more steps before answering.
"Yes. I allows me to detach it, more easily. And I have to. I have to segment it out. Or I'll go insane. And also I don't want to receive something I cannot give. It's wrong." - she growled.
Jamella nodded.
"You're talking about... your own family? And the people who murdered them?"
Yelena stopped. Reaching down to the strange-looking bracelet on her left wrist, rubbing it absently.
"Did Irwine tell you that?" - quietly.
"Uh... he might have mentioned it. B-but don't blame h-" - the girl stammered but was cut off.
"I don't. It's alright... and yes. I cannot forgive that. Ever. And that is why I will not accept anyone's forgiveness for the things I did. Things I still do. Things that I will do in the future when I have to. I DO NOT deserve it." - she turned to look at her, and the young woman was struck by the tears in her eyes.
"I deserve to die, Jamella. Many, many times over. I should have died seven months ago, but I did not. Because I suppose there is some cosmic sense of... balance... at work. Or maybe cosmic sense of humour!" - laughing bitterly, as she wiped her eyes, feeling her mental barriers tested.
"The people who took my family from me deserve the same. I just want to settle that debt, so my family can rest easy, before I go. That's all."
"Does he know?" - the girl asked, a lump in her throat.
Yelena bit her lip, looking away.
"Deep down, probably. I told him enough times. But he sees in me what he wants to see. Someone who can be saved. Someone to maybe someday build a life with. Someone who isn't already too far gone. Too damaged. He doesn't want to accept that, and I do not want to break his heart. That is why you will never tell him any of this." - meeting Jamella's gaze again.
The young woman nodded, solemnly. Yelena took the strange-looking bracelet off.
"Do you know what this is?" - she asked the girl.
"Looks like... a depiction of rebirth? Ouroboros?" - Jamella peered at the beautifully-crafted piece of wooden jewellery, working hard to suppress her own tears.
"I want you to have it. It was given to me by... someone who also saw in me something that is not there. You can forgive. I cannot. You should have it." - offering it out.
Jamella choked.
"I can't take this!" - gently pushing her hand back.
"Please. Take it. It will look good on you!" - Yelena insisted, just as gently, with a smile.
Shuddering, the girl hesitantly took it. She looked up at Yelena, anger suddenly in her eyes.
"I'll give it back! When you... realise that you're WRONG! That you're not gone! That you deserve forgiveness! I promise you, I WILL give it back! And he's right! He's RIGHT, in what he sees in you! Whoever gave you this, is right too! You're not... gone! YOU'RE NOT! You may not see it, but... but I do! Irwine does! And I'm gonna remind you of it every day, from now on! I'm gonna be so annoying, that you'll have no CHOICE!" - defiantly, through the tears.
Yelena shook her head with a resigned chuckle.
"Great... Something to look forward to."
"Shut up! I mean it! Like it or not, you... you're a good person!" - the young woman snapped, with a mixture of laughter, anger, and sadness.
~"You're a good fairy! Just sad."~
The little boy's angry exclamation, in the apartment in Detroit she broke into to take cover from... the world... only a day after her awakening, came to mind. The words were different, spoken from the mouth of a child who thought she was a dark fairy, but the underlying conviction behind them...
Why do people keep thinking that about me..?
"If you say so, Jamella." - with a shrug, and that same trace of resignation, as she turned and pulled on the cart, heading for the firing range.