David and Chris were sent home for the remainder of the day for psychological reaffirment and stability assurance. There was only one Arbites present in the prison, as the rest that were otherwise available were presently dispatched to the cleanup of IS-38. My arm was confiscated as evidence, and a number of picts were taken of Fae’s augmetic body likewise, with her consent. We were then both thrown into the same cell, and without our muzzles, despite some protest from a few of the guards, as our cell bordered that of a civilian prisoner. The Arbites officer assuaged fears for the safety of that prisoner by demanding the presence of three armed guards immediately outside our cell at all times. Questioning would happen the next day or the day after, to let us stew for as long as possible. Fae and I both knew, however, that one way or another, we would not be here so long.
As I sat on one of two benches in our shared cell, I glanced behind myself at the civilian. She was laying on her back, chewing gum and blowing a bubble with it, and seemed not to care for the presence of her new neighbors. Her clothes were raggedy and did not fit her at all, being too small, suggesting that perhaps they were provided by the station itself and that these were not actually her belongings. I paid her little mind beyond that, for I was not as interested with her existence as I was Fae’s.
“You’re a tough man to put down,” Fae muttered, sitting on the other bench of our cell across from me. She crossed her legs over one another while leaning back, hands by her sides on the bench.
“So I keep hearing,” I shrugged. “You wanted your body seen.”
She shrugged as well. “Destabilization of the norm has to start somewhere. Those picts probably won’t get too far, but they’ll be something. You know you’re not getting out of here alive, right?”
“Keep hearing that one, too,” I chuckled. “And I keep getting out all the same. Say, just out of curiosity, how many soldiers do you have at your command? I know you’re getting them from Calixis, probably elsewhere, we don’t have to tip-toe around that. You had half an army left at IS-38. You presumably have more elsewhere. It’s no surprise to me that you have what you have, I’m just curious how your Cell decides who gets what.”
“Well, each of us get what we’re owed for our duties. My work here was particularly important, so I was owed quite a bit. And in turn, I have a good few more resources up my sleeves, torn though they are,” she muttered, looking over her now-sleeveless shirt. It had not been so prior to our arrival at the station.
“Right. Resources,” I nodded to myself. “And my ship?”
She shrugged again. “Words are powerful things. You know this, I know this. Prareus and Heirene know this. Mutiny has to start somewhere.”
“My crew would not mutiny,” I assured her, shaking my head in dismissal.
“And, yet…,” she smiled, raising her hands forward as though to demonstrate the reality we lived in. Point taken. “You had the Sister and the Scion on this world. You would have used them at the spaceport. You sent them back up there?”
“And they will reduce Prareus and Heirene to mulch if need be,” I confirmed.
“That won’t do you much good down here, though,” she warned.
“I’ll manage,” I shrugged.
“No, Blackgar, you won’t. Not from me and mine. The others want you on Amnes Minoris. I will disappoint them by killing you here, but disappointment will matter little, and will not interfere with our operation as you have. Antonius Sigird almost killed you. Ryke and Silverman almost killed you. Holicar Espirov almost killed you. You have teetered on the edge of death for so very long, and have relied on the strength of others to stay upright. What I have coming will push you over for good, though, now that you’re alone,” she threatened.
“You know, Espirov and Sigird did come pretty close, I’ll give them that, but you Phaenonites never really impressed as much,” I replied in a barking laugh, leaning back against the other wall of the cell. “I popped Silverman like a zit and ground Ryke to dust, and even together they did not push me too hard. Even if I am alone, of which I do not believe I am as there are a great number of loyal servants of the Throne between us and the outside world, but even were that not so, you do not much concern me, Fae.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“They won’t matter,” Fae shrugged. “And a year from now, neither will you.” She then looked to our guards. “Look at them. Loyal, faithful, dutiful. Weak, with but one life to live before the sum of their duty is snuffed out. They are no defense to you. I expect mine are almost here, and even were the Arbites at IS-38 to return in a timely manner, they would not matter either. You’re the soldier, Blackgar—you tell me what you think I would need to get to you in this cell, hm?”
“You’d need more than men,” I shrugged, and to my dismay, she nodded. I still did not grasp the extent of her plan or her resources, having not wanted to exert myself to dig into her mind. I was still recovering from waring the two officers from earlier, and even if I could get a sneak peek at what she was planning, I was unlikely to stop it from inside a prison cell. My mind was better tasked to recovery for the time being. “You’d need armor to breach the outer walls, air support for recon and to prevent survivors from escaping and warning others, and you’d need ewar equipment to prevent voxcasts.”
“Yes, Blackgar, very good, I would need these things,” she grinned, then tapped her head toward our guards again. “How long do you suppose their loyalty would last before they beg me to let them kill you for their own lives?”
“I have stared down Espirov’s army before, and somehow I don’t think you’ll put a Scorpius or—Throne—a puppet Angel to the field,” I shrugged.
“My understanding of that engagement is you ran for your life and were again saved by your allies, rather than doing much staring at all,” she laughed.
“You lot are curiously well-informed,” I noted.
“Eternity will do that,” she replied, laughing again. Engineering eternity, I thought to myself. That was the goal of these heretics. It was with that thought, then, that I heard it: the low ruffling of rotors in the air, high above. I felt around with my mind and saw their source: two gunships. Troops on the ground. Armor at the back. Fae’s army was here. “Can you hear that?” she asked, though I do not know which sound she was referring to. I folded my hands in my lap and took one long, deep breath in and out.
But what I heard next was not rampant shooting, but the stomping of ceramite feet. The Arbites overseeing our incarceration approached our cell. “Whichever one of you has the army outside, you will have them stand down, and I will consider that with your sentencing,” he addressed us both, fully armored already and weapons in hand.
“No, I think not. This is where the charade ends. From here on you will do as I say or you will meet your maker, Rotting God or otherwise,” Fae declared, rising from her bench. I remained still, continuing to focus on my breathing. “First order: release me and kill him.”
“Release the prisoner,” the Arbites muttered, and Fae managed a grin. One of the three officers hesitated, then went for our cell. “No, not that one, the civilian,” the Arbites corrected, replacing Fae’s grin with his own as hers faded to a scowl. “You will both remain imprisoned for the day and night. The Emperor protects,” the Arbites declared, and then stormed off in the direction he had arrived from. Fae sneered, but returned to her bench as the aforementioned officer moved over to the civilian’s cell and began to free her.
“Right this way, miss, we gotta get you out of here,” the officer instructed when he got her cell open. A bubble burst, was cleaned up by the civilian’s tongue, and only then did she rise to her feet with an uncaring shrug and head for the exit of her cell. The moment that she exited, however, her mood and demeanor swung completely, taking everyone but myself by surprise. She assaulted the guard that freed her, drew the guard’s weapon and whipped it into the other two who were beginning to respond to her assault, and then leapt into the air like an acrobat to bring them both to the ground in a pirouetting tackle. While this went on, I rose to my feet and took one last, deep breath before stretching my neck from side to side.
Eventually, after a few forcibly hushed moments of combat, the woman had knocked the three guards unconscious and took one of their keyrings to the door of our cell, priming an autogun on Fae in the process. It was only then that Fae finally caught on, as I was released and she remained locked up. “Scantily clad as ever, Carmichael,” I greeted my Agent with a grin.
“Gotta make do with what we’ve got, boss,” Bliss smiled, happily puffing her barely-covered chest out. “What’s the plan?”
“I want my arm back,” I grumbled.
“Can we afford to leave her here?” Bliss asked.
I looked back to Fae, whose eyes were of searing daggers toward me. “Something tells me she won’t be running off again, will she?”
“Right behind you, Blackgar,” she growled.
“Right. Let’s get moving,” I declared, reaching down to a guard and taking their own autogun for myself. It was then, finally, that the shooting started.