Last Hope.
A name burdened with the expectations of humanity from the time of the desperate war with the Xith. A fitting name. But like so many things from humanity’s history, it was soon forgotten and twisted to serve the brutal regime of the Third Terran Empire and its ever-hungry war machine. At its peak, the vast mining complex orbiting a resource-rich dwarf planet was said to have produced enough raw ores in a single day to put to shame the combined annual output of the United Republics. The template facilities could churn out an entire drone fleet within a week and an armada within a month. While the manufacturing plants constructed anything from single-pilot fighters to Hurricane-class destroyers. It was no wonder why the brave revolutionaries who overthrew the tyrannical rule of the Empire and created the United Republics fought tooth and nail for it during the Liberation Wars. Truly, Last Hope was a valuable asset which could tip the scales of war, at least on paper.
In reality, however, nothing was perfect, and the mining complex was no exception. Maintaining such a facility was a monumental task made impossible without the sophisticated network of semi-autonomous AI control units used by the Third Empire. The UR simply lacked the financial resources and manpower to restore Last Hope after the dust of war settled. In the nearly seven centuries since it took control of the mining complex, it was barely operating at ten percent capacity. Of course, poor management, inefficiency, corruption and blatant human greed shared the blame for this downfall; however, the issues didn’t end there. No, the bloody thing was in the middle of nowhere, and when one was talking about space, that was saying something. Located at the very fringe of both UR-controlled space and the galaxy as a whole, it took four months of traversing real space to move from the nearest no-void transition point to reach Last Hope, which made the mining complex as strategically valuable as an umbrella in a flood.
It was fitting that the locals called this place Lost Hope. This was the end—metaphorically and for most literary—for any misfortunate civilian unlucky enough to be stationed here. This was also the place for the Academy to store the undesirable and problematic staff, whom the Brass couldn’t dispose of quietly or couldn’t be bothered to imprison. Major Khalid wished to think that it was due to circumstances outside of his control that he and his platoon found themselves in this misbegotten place. Alas, this was wishful thinking, a desperate attempt to escape reality. The sad truth was that they were being punished for their loyalty to Knight Protector Alexandra von Eisstahl, even though said loyalty was the result of the Academy’s indoctrination and training.
But what was Khalid supposed to do? Disobey his orders? He could never do that. Like his men, he was Innari. They were some of the most elite soldiers the Academy produced, and their honour and duty demanded that they accomplish any order given to them. And for the last decade, their singular task was protecting and supporting the Hero of the United Republics, the very woman who earned both the Snake and Sword emblems—Alexandra von Eisstahl. She was the one who protected Sentinel Hill during the riots when all others fled. It was her valiant charge at Evro which stopped the Third Empire’s advance during the Omega Nebula Incursion. Without a shred of doubt, Alexandra was the very embodiment of what a Knight Protector was supposed to be, despite her noble ancestry before the caste system was abolished. She was brave, fearless, kind, caring, competent and loyal to the UR. That last part made both the Senate and High Command very uncomfortable because they preferred an obedient pawn to a thorn in their side who constantly pointed out their shortcomings. A Knight Protector with the support of the people behind her back was something to be quietly removed.
I can’t protect you from yourself, mistress, Khalid screamed internally as he punched the training dummy with all his might, scraping the remaining skin off of the knuckles on his right hand. Spent, the Innari dropped on the padded floor, panting like an animal; his arms and legs felt heavy, and his muscles screamed in agony as the burning pain in his mutilated wrists added its voice to the cacophony of welcomed suffering. Sadly, the abuse he forced onto his body didn’t clear his head as it used to do. The training hall was his sanctuary, the one place where nothing changed—be it a transporter, a station, or back in the Academy—it was always there to help him purge doubt from his thoughts. But not here. Not on Lost Hope. Like the rest of the mining complex, the training hall used by the local security staff felt wrong. From the unconventional size to the dirty padding haphazardly glued to the walls, it was a mirror of the turmoil inside of him.
“Doubt leads only to failure. That’s why an Innari obeys and never doubts.” The creed of the United Republics’ most elite soldiers came unbidden to the forefront of his mind, mocking him, pushing him deeper and deeper into the darkness. However, the more he thought about it as he advanced in rank, the more discrepancies and problems he saw with how the Innari operated. Blind obedience didn’t achieve the results the elite shock troopers had in their proud history. But that was just it: the Innari hadn’t achieved anything significant in the last hundred years. On the contrary, the training programme to become a member was becoming shorter with each generation, and despite having significantly lower losses than the regular UR Army units, their casualty rates were growing…
Khalid pushed the thought away as the mnemonic safeguards placed during his indoctrination misfired. Protocol dictated that he should report to the nearest Medical Unit and admit himself for full examination. However, there was no qualified physician on this misbegotten station. But more importantly, that would mean that the Major would have to relinquish his command, which was less than desirable in the current situation. With the Knight Protector placed in stasis for her and their own safety and the losses they suffered while securing the mining complex, the morale of his men was severely shaken. For the sake of the platoon, he had to endure a little longer, at least until the no-void relay was repaired. Once they re-established contact with High Command, the Major would take full responsibility and surrender himself to a disciplinary committee for trial.
The cornea implant in Khalid’s eye informed him of Sergeant Nasri's arrival a second before he could hear the man’s footsteps and the telling hiss of the training hall’s door opening. With some effort, the Major stopped the trembling in his hands and clasped them behind his back as he stood up to hide the damage he had caused during his training session. The pain he felt was growing with each passing second, making it clear that he would need to schedule a visit with the local doctor to check why his implants weren’t kicking in to dull it to a more tolerable level.
“Sir, the Neuronic has left radar range,” Nasri delivered the report in a flat, dispassionate voice.
“Izban must be ecstatic,” Khalid sighed quietly.
The captain of the old Atlas-class transport frigate that brought them to this forgotten area at the edge of the Fringe was quite vocal about his displeasure at being forced to work as an ad-hock military transport. Turning around, he faced the Sergeant, immediately noticing a couple of poorly maintained spots on the man’s black carapace armour. Khalid didn’t expect his men to keep their gear parade-ready, but having connectors of the internal life-support mechanisms visible was a completely different matter.
“Did Captain Reyas update the estimated time of arrival at the no-void relay?” The Major asked as he reached for one of the nail-sized carapace armoured plates, pealing it off with surprising ease and revealing more of the combat suit's inner workings.
“A hundred and twenty-two days until they reach the last known location of the relay,” Nasri answered unperturbed while Khalid examined the damaged plate. “Another five to twenty days to physically locate it, and after that, it's anyone’s guess how long it would take to repair it.”
“Worst case scenario?”
“The Neuronic will enter the no-void heading to Galantra through Nabo. There, they will report to Sector Command,” Nasri’s face stiffened as he continued, surely having noticed the missing skin on his knuckles. “In this case, it will be two to three years before a ship arrives with new orders.”
Khalid felt as if he were sinking in quicksand. No matter how he looked at it, even for the Innari, this was far too long to operate without orders. For the thousandth time, he wondered how Last Hope was allowed to fall into such a deplorable state. The mining complex’s mainframe was held by thrice recycled parts and wishful thinking. The local Security was a joke outfit with outdated, poorly maintained scrap in lieu of proper gear. The food supplies consisted of mouldable paste, which was only served at max-security labour camps because it was as nutritious as boiled boots and tasted slightly worse. If not for the literal tons of smuggled goods and the so-called illegal hydroponics designed by the miners, everyone on this forsaken station would have died decades ago. To make matters worse, according to the cargo manifest the Knight Protector showed him before they entered the system, the next scheduled delivery transport would not arrive for another nine months, bringing with it two hundred clueless Academy cadets to replace the majority of the current security staff. Mistress von Eisstahl had pulled a lot of strings to re-arrange Last Hope’s supply transports’ timetables, and now it was yet another problem on Khalid’s plate.
Well, technically, it wasn’t his problem. He could just shove it towards Helix and let the bastard deal with it. There was one slight problem: the Major didn’t trust their mysterious ally. Sure, the young man had the necessary clearance and identification, or at least that’s what he claimed. Without contacting Academy High Command, all Khalid could do was stare in frustration at the “RESTRICTED ACCESS” return whenever he tried to check the authentication codes. Usually, that would be enough for the Major to have the man detained while the Innari confirmed his identity; however, the low-level codes that gave him access to Last Hope and authority over the local Security were all valid, giving significant credibility to his story. Which, in theory, made Helix the highest-ranking United Republics’ officer on the orbital mining complex. In reality, both he and the Innari were specialised units that operated partially outside of the standard chain of command, which in practice meant that neither Khalid nor Helix could give orders to the other.
The Major stopped the sigh forming in his throat and returned the broken armour plate to Nasri. “Have it soldered in place before the evening inspection.”
“Yes, sir.” The veteran took the item and inserted it in one of the hidden compartments of his chest armour. “Sir, permission to speak freely.”
“Denied,” Khalid responded to the request without giving it a thought. He knew what was bothering the Sergeant. After all, the leader of the Innari was trying his best to ignore Helix and Second Officer Kurtz, who were visible from behind the clear plastic divider separating the close-combat training area from the general-purpose one. “What is the condition of Mistress von Eisstahl?”
“No change. The isolation capsule Dr Saiko prepared is keeping the… Knight Protector sedated.” Nasri’s hesitation was evidence enough that he couldn’t accept the fact that Alexandra was a psionic. Not that Khalid could blame him since he himself still thought of her as the Hero of the United Republics. “In the rare moments of lucidity, she repeats the same thing. She uses different words, but the meaning is fundamentally the same.” There was a brief pause before the soldier continued saying the one thing the Major didn’t want to think about. “Sir, with all due respect, the current solution is only temporary. We cannot keep Mistress von Eisstahl in this state for a prolonged period of time.”
“Then what do you suggest, Sergeant? That we let an insane psionic loose and hope she gets bored before she kills everyone?” Khalid snapped, barely getting a hold of his anger.
Of course, he knew they couldn’t keep the woman drugged out of her mind indefinitely, but it wasn’t like he had any other options. A mining complex was simply not equipped with an appropriate detention facility for someone who could bend the laws of physics with their mind. Nor could the Major execute her since that would be going against his orders. That’s why he had agreed to Dr Saiko’s temporary solution. Still, he couldn’t believe that there was a functional cryo-stasis pod in a place such as Last Hope. This was lost technology which baffled the brightest minds in the United Republics. There were only two explanations for its existence in a remote place such as this. Either the detachment of archaeologists had recovered it from a dig site on the planet’s surface, or everything he knew about the mining complex was a lie. Reluctantly, he wished to believe that the former was the truth because the alternative would make his current problems look like a leisurely stroll through the jungles of Thufan.
“Nasri, we’ve served together for three decades. Do you really think I’m allowing this because I like it?” This time, Khalid sighed. “Alexandra von Eisstahl is the Hero of the United Republics. She’s a damn Knight Protector and the only living person to be awarded both the Snake and Sword honours. However, all of this became meaningless the moment she was revealed as a psionic. The Academy regulations are very clear about that, and there is nothing I can do about it.”
“Regulation 4-01-A. Any person revealed to possess psionic potential is to be stripped of their citizen rights, position or military rank, detained, reported to the High Commodore’s Office, and transported without delay to the closest psi-defence military installation on Batha II or Prosper Prime.” Nasri quoted the regulation word for word, his body stiffening as he did. “I do not dispute that part, sir. However, in Regulation 4-A2-1, it is stated that only a trained Academy medical specialist can determine if a person possesses psionic potential because, in rare cases, Academy personnel can exhibit a one-time psionic event. However, there is no such specialist here or within our platoon. I’m worried that we might be overstepping our–”
“That is enough, Sergeant!” Khalid barked.
There was a limit to how much he was willing to permit. He tried approaching the worried trooper as a friend, but that act of basic kindness was taken advantage of as soon as it was offered.
“Nasri, I was there when we were forced to detain Knight Protector von Eisstahl.” Khalid’s hands curled into fists at the memory and his failure, his voice becoming cold and dispassionate. “She wiped the floor with us after killing Andrej and Shahin! If you distrust my words so much, go speak with Reza in Medical. Perhaps he, too, is only imagining having his hand blown off.”
Stepping closer to the veteran, the Major tried to erase the anger from his voice, as part of him understood the cause of Nasri’s doubts. “Out of respect for your long years of exemplary service, I will pretend I did not hear this and not write you up for expressing doubt in your commanding officer. We’ve lost enough people already. Am I clear, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Khalid said, taking a step back and relaxing his posture slightly. “How is the installation of our closed-feed mainframe progressing?”
“Specialist King and Professor Kruger are running final checks. A little over three hours before everything is set up.”
Khalid crocked an eyebrow. As far as he was informed, the Innari weren’t having any luck establishing a positive rapport with the local security staff, and communication with the handful of scientists from the archaeology expedition was close to abysmal. The fact that both men were assisting with the feed was a surprise. Still, the Major didn’t feel comfortable to have outsiders work on sensitive military equipment. Alas, he didn’t have any other options. Most of the techs that came with them were killed when the mainframe shorted, and the few remaining ones had to be sent with the Neuronic to assist with the repairs of the no-void relay. As it was, Basra and Shakhur were the only qualified military techs he had access to, and those two were busy securing the Scolia. In all honesty, Khalid would have loved to have it loaded back on the Neuronic and shipped off of the mining complex. However, without Alexandra’s authorisation codes, the mighty battle-frame was nothing more than a container filled with volatile ammunition and sensitive tech.
“I’ll have Shakhur do a scrub once the feed is operational. Inform all squads to report to the Control room at twenty hundred hours to receive new authorisation codes.” The Major issued the order after checking the time stamp on his cornea implant. Six hours should be enough time for the remaining squads to finish their patrols for the day. “In the meantime, I want you, Omid and Aram to speed up the interviews with the detained members of the local security. I need you to find at least twenty trustworthy enough to be released from the brig by oh eight hundred hours tomorrow.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll inform the lieutenants personally,” Nasri nodded without protesting about the fact that he wouldn’t be sleeping for the third night in a row.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The Major tried his best to rotate the remaining Innari so that none of them were active for more than seventy-two hours, but there was too much that needed to be done and too few available hands. With his command squad all but annihilated and the members of Squad Five killed or badly wounded, the commanders of the three remaining squads were permanently stuck in Section 01. Along with Khalid himself, they were busy sifting through the garbage that were the local Security members to see who could be reinstated. In the seven days since the Innari assumed control of Last Hope, they had screened only fifty people of the two hundred who remained after the fighting stopped. The main reason for their slow progress was in part due to the unstable condition of the complex’s mainframe and in part because every single one of those people had an extensive criminal history.
Under normal circumstances, Khalid would be shipping the lot of them to a penal world without a second thought. But fifteen Innari troopers were just not enough to properly keep the miners in check. Actually, his men were causing more tension with the miners than he was willing to admit. At least, that was one problem the Major could solve in the coming days, not to mention that it would be far easier for the Innari to keep the security personnel under control than a few thousand civilians. Regardless, he would need help.
“Tell me, Nasri, what do you think? Am I too blind to spot a liar?” Khalid asked as his right hand pulled on the three platinum rings decorating the braided goatee dangling from his chin to stop himself from turning around and looking at Helix. He honestly hated the damned thing, but it was a symbol of his rank and years served in the ranks of the Innari.
“It is hard to say,” Nasri’s mouth twisted, and his expression turned sour. To see the Sergeant express his emotions so openly was a rarity, and it only showed how bothered he was by Helix. “That man isn’t lying—he believes what he says to be the truth—but he isn’t telling the truth necessarily.”
“What makes you say that?” Khalid asked, genuinely surprised by his friend’s explanation.
“It’s hard to put it to words… Something about him feels off,” the discomfort began to show in Nasri’s voice with the slight change of his normally indifferent pitch becoming deeper. “From his constant half-smile when he is at ease to the tightening of his eyes when he appears brooding, it isn’t natural. Every change in his facial expression is far too perfect according to the emotion he wants to convey. It feels… calculated.”
The Major turned around to observe Officer Kurtz’s training. Just looking at her appearance was enough to hint that she didn’t belong in this place. She lacked the unhealthy greyish skin tone common to the local security guards and still had a proper Academy haircut. But the more telling sign was how she always appeared to stand at attention. There could be no mistake that there was a proper military officer hidden behind the seemingly scatterbrain façade she wore. Not that the local clowns would have realised any of this, but such low-effort tricks weren’t enough to fool Khalid’s trained eyes. It was hard to imagine that the young woman was discharged from a medical unit only a day ago after undergoing heart replacement surgery while watching her switch to hand-to-hand combat the moment she finished yet another lap of the training hall. Yes, there was no mistake that the service record he had read was poorly falsified just to fool the former Chief of Security, Donovan Rex.
He had to agree with Nasri’s assessment as he examined each of Helix’s motions while attacking the sweat-drenched Kurtz. Not a single movement was wasted, and the fighting style was clearly developed for striking at vital points, either crippling or outright killing his opponent. Khalid hated to admit it, but he wouldn’t be fairing any better than the poor girl in a one-on-one fight with Helix, who was currently helping her up after a rather vicious kick to the side of the knee.
“You better watch yourself around him, sir. Helix appears to be the type of person who can convince you that Verna flowers bloom during the day.”
“Noted,” Khalid spoke flatly as he stood motionless, contemplating his next course of action. “That would be all, Sergeant.”
As soon as the steel-manganese alloy door closed, he took a deep breath and placed his throbbing hand on the control pad for the divider. This was a conversation he didn’t want to have, but one that could no longer be postponed and with some luck, the Major might even be able to catch Helix on the wrong foot.
----------------------------------------
Zoë panted heavily while waiting for the world around her to stop spinning. The pain in her right knee was still sending flashes of white agony as she was tempted to turn on her combat implants to a hundred percent functionality. However, Dr Saiko had been very clear on what would happen if she did that, and she was not willing to test if his threats were true or not. Still, she didn’t expect her first time stretching her arms and legs after the surgery to be a taxing training session. Although she welcomed the challenge and the chance to return to the routine she was familiar with, Zoë most certainly didn’t appreciate being used as a training dummy.
“You remember I was discharged from Medical yesterday, don’t you?” She asked as she grabbed Helix’s extended hand.
“Yes.” The almost distracted sound of his voice made her want to scream. It was obvious her well-being wasn’t a priority.
“Then you remember that I’m supposed to avoid strenuous activities for at least another week?” Zoë pressed on while getting her breathing back under control. “Dr Saiko’s good. The best, actually, but not even he can speed up the deep-tissue reconstructor nanites, and, to be honest, severe internal cardiac haemorrhaging doesn’t sound appealing.”
“It shouldn’t.”
Without warning, he grabbed her shoulders and wrestled her to the ground, putting her in a chokehold. His arms felt like steel bars as Zoë tried her best to free herself from his grip. She knew Helix was stronger than he appeared, but after whatever procedure he had undergone during his two-day seclusion, it was as if he was a different person.
“Depending on how severe it is, a person could die within seconds.” Helix turned her around, pinning her stomach to the floor and planting his knee at the base of her waist. All the while, his right arm remained wrapped around her neck, and it felt as if he was trying to snap her spine in half, but at least some of the pressure was gone, and she could actually breathe now. “But that’s not something you need to worry about. Trust me, Miss Kurtz, I know exactly how much you can be pushed before we need to worry about your medical condition.”
Zoë made a few more attempts to escape his hold before tapping his hand, signalling it was his win. However, instead of letting her go, Helix increased the pressure on her neck.
“I… give… up…” she managed to say while the trapezoids on her back began to cramp from the extreme exertion.
“Disappointing,” Helix droned in her ear, realising his hold slightly without letting go of her. “There’s so much you need to learn before you can be considered an Oni. I don’t know where to start.”
“You keep… saying that… Uhg… But you… ugh… never really explain… what it… means.” Zoë half-whispered in between pants, feeling her frustration grow the longer she talked with him.
At first, she was excited to see Helix again, especially after learning she was alive only because of him. However, the infuriating man didn’t give her a chance to say a single word of thanks before starting to do tests on her along with Dr Saiko. Sure, she had done it over the feed, but that felt too impersonal. However, after three days of being probed, she was ready to forget any feelings she might have held towards Helix. But one look into his mischievous amber eyes and a flash of his charming smile was enough to make Zoë give him another chance. Well, she wasn’t clear what exactly that chance was supposed to be, but she was willing to give it and forgive his rough treatment. All she wanted was to run her fingers through his dark blond hair, with a hint of red mixed into it, then explore if there was any stubble on his pale, sunken, cleanly shaved cheeks. Finally, check if his lips are as calming as his expression or as cold as his attitude. Zoë willed the dangerous thoughts away before she got lost in her fantasies.
This behaviour was also something that was really starting to worry her. There was no reasonable explanation for why she was so infatuated with Helix. Zoë wasn’t like one of those psychos from the recreational feed who lost all reason around the person they loved, and yet, all the signs were there clear as day. Sure, Helix was a handsome guy, in great shape and strong will, and a part of her didn’t mind getting pinned by him. However, he was also an unhinged borderline insane sociopath who destroyed everything she believed in and pretty much was solely responsible for ruining any chance she had of advancing from a lowly enforcer to a proper military officer. By all accounts, Zoë had more reasons to hate his guts than not, but all of that was pushed to the side the moment she saw him dressed in loosely fitting training fatigues and a tight tank top. Damn it, she really had to talk with someone about this before her brain stopped functioning, and she really turned into an empty-headed loon.
“I don’t know what has you so distracted, but if you don’t pay attention, I will hurt you,” Helix’s words and the sudden pain in her waist where his knee was pressing against her spine brought Zoë back to reality. “Now, please, pay attention.”
His free left hand took hold of her right wrist and guided it to the arm around her neck. Her fingers grazed the hot skin of his forearm before being forcefully settled on his biceps.
“There are three ways to get out of this hold when fighting an opponent without cybernetic augmentation,” Helix extended her thumb and pressed it at the spot where the muscle connected to the bone. “The first one is to press here with all your strength,” he moved her hand towards his shoulder as he continued. “The second spot is the armpit since, in this position, it is exposed. And the third,” Helix made a sudden pause before letting her go completely. “Will have to wait. How can I help you, Major?”
Lifting her head from the dirty floor, Zoë looked up to see the commander of the Innari shock-troopers standing just out of arm’s reach. A few days ago, before Helix appeared in her life with the subtlety of a frag grenade, she would have jumped up to her fit to stand at attention. However, now she felt oddly detached, all because the charming monster had destroyed the image of the Innari she had formed in her head after years of Academy propaganda. Not to mention that as far as the Major was concerned, she and Helix were supposed to be some sort of elite infiltrators sent by High Command. Zoë found it rather difficult to keep track of all of Helix’s lies while her cerebral implant was undergoing maintenance. However, she could either play along or admit she had turned traitor and be executed on the spot, which made her choice rather obvious. So, she only gave the Major a light nod and shakily got back on her feet.
“Major, Second Officer,” the Innari returned the nod without any other formal greeting. “I didn’t mean to spy on your training session, but I would like a word if you can spare the time.”
“Of course, Major Khalid, I’m at your disposal.” Zoë wanted to punch the smug smile off of Helix’s face. Others might see it as nothing more than him being courteous, but she could tell the difference. Helix was really enjoying toying with the veteran commander. “And no offence taken. We were going through some basic moves to check if Zoë’s recovered enough to be back in the field.”
“Right.” Zoë could tell that Major Khalid didn’t even bother to pretend to believe the obvious lie without looking at his face. Even an Academy cadet could tell that what they were doing was way beyond what regulations allowed.
“This is about Knight Protector von Eisstahl,” the dour-looking man with copper skin continued after it became clear that they were done with the idle chat.
“I take it you’ve given my proposal some thought?” Helix asked more of a way to reduce the long pauses than out of genuine curiosity. Still, this was new to Zoë. All she knew about her former hero was that she was kept in cryogenic stasis, and this was the first time she heard about the Innari and Helix having discussed what to actually do with Alexandra.
“I would lie if I said I like it. But I’m out of options, and we need the Knight Protector back on her feet to keep this place together. Even if it is only temporary.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Major was struggling with his emotions, and Zoë couldn’t help herself but feel pity for the man. “Are you certain the treatment will work?”
“No,” Helix shook his head to the Innari’s surprise. The Second Officer hated herself for admitting this, but the monster next to her could teach a master class on manipulation, which would be the envy of every UR Commodore. “This is an experimental procedure with somewhat unpredictable results. There is a good chance that Kavalira von Eisstahl could end up in a permanent coma or die. And even if it is successful, there will be notable personality changes.”
“If it is that dangerous, why suggest it?” Khalid demanded, stepping forward before stopping and getting his anger under control.
Because of countless drills, Zoë found herself moving slightly to his left in order to flank him, her right hand reaching for the shock stick that would be hanging from her utility belt if she was in uniform. An action that didn’t escape the seasoned trooper’s attention. Almost simultaneously, the veteran shifted his body ever so slightly to keep her in check, his dark-brawn eyes full of suspicion.
“Sorry… A force of habit,” Zoë blurted before relaxing her stance.
“Please excuse her, Major. My partner is currently pumped with stimulants and acts without thinking.” Helix spoke softly with just a hint of reprimand in his voice. “As for the answer to your question. It’s because we are talking about Alexandra von Eisstahl—the bloody Hero of the United Republics—not just some random psionic we found in the gutter.”
If she didn’t know him better, Zoë would have believed that Helix actually meant what he said. But she did know the charming monster, and it made her sick in her stomach to hear him say this because she knew for a fact that he didn’t care one bit about the UR or the Knight Protector.
“So, no. I’m not certain that the treatment will be a success,” Helix continued in a sombre voice, “but if there is a chance we could hide her condition, at least until I can bring in more skilled people, I’m willing to take that risk and full responsibility. Besides, the fate waiting for her once she’s back in the Academy’s hands isn’t all that different.”
“Meaning, you’re confident you can do the procedure yourself? Here?” The Major’s eyes narrowed.
“I would need the help of Dr Saiko and his assistants. But other than that—yes.”
“I’m not sure I can trust that, Major Helix.” The Innari exhaled slowly. “A skilled infiltrator, an undercover Council operative, a former noble, and now, a doctor versed in experimental medical treatments. Who are you? Really. This time, I’ll need something more substantial than a restricted file once comms are back online.”
For a long moment, it looked like Helix was pondering his response, and after the silence stretched into a minute, Zoë was starting to worry. Either the charming monster was caught with his pants down, or he had prepared an elaborate lie which would add a few extra executions to her future sentence if the truth was found out. In a way, the Second Officer hoped for the former because she was getting really tired of all the scheming.
“This stays only between us, Major Khalid. I mean it.” Helix’s words made her heart sink. But that was nothing compared to the pure terror she felt as soon as the lines of text began to scroll on the edge of her cornea implant.
< MAJOR HELIX, LUCAS >
< PERSONAL ID_CODE: [08-3D4-HGHSAF] >
< SPECIAL PSIONIC INVESTIGATION UNIT DEMON >
< FEED_ID: DEMON_08/HELIX >
< >
< OFFICER SECOND CLASS KURTZ, ZOË >
< PERSONAL ID_CODE: [01-1NO1-FFTNBE] >
< SPECIAL PSIONIC INVESTIGATION UNIT DEMON >
< FEED_ID: ONI_08/KURTZ >
< >
< TASK_PRIMARY: >
< ESTABLISH AND OPERATE SECRET RESEARCH >
< FACILITY AT SITE LAST HOPE_MINING COMPLEX >
< >
< TASK_SECONDARY: >
< INVESTIGATE OVERSEER THARKS, OLIVER >
< >
< MISSION COVER: >
< DEMON_08 POSE AS TASK FORCE 36 OPERATIVE >
< ONI_08 POSE AS MEMBER OF LAST_HOPE SECURITY >
< >
< EMERGENCY TASK_PRIORITY VITAL >
< POTENTIAL PSIONIC EN ROUTE >
< KNIGHT PROTECTOR VON EISSTAHL, ALEXANDRA >
< DETAIN AND TRANSFER TO DRAMAR FACILITY >
Zoë wasn’t an infiltrator. She didn’t have the faintest idea how an infiltrator was supposed to act in the first place. But more importantly, this was damning evidence which severed any lingering hope that she could get out of this mess with her skin intact. What made it worse was that each line was embedded with a genuine Academy signature. The same one that was used in her assignment order to Last Hope. This wasn’t something Helix could falsify, and as far as Zoë knew, even the Third Empire bastards struggled with mimicking Academy authentication codes. So, how could he have those in… That was when it hit her—Zeti. It had to be the damned AI. Finally, she understood why Felix was so scared of the blasted thing. If that was what it could do in a day or two, then it could potentially dismantle the Academy and, consequentially, the United Republics in a matter of weeks if it were ever to escape the mining complex.
“The UR is sick and in desperate need of a cure, and I and those like me intend to fix this,” Helix’s emotionless voice broke the pregnant silence. “Even if it means we have to get our hands dirty. And before you ask, Major, what awaits Kavalira von Eisstahl outside of this station is far worse than the side effects of the psionic deafening procedure. So, Major Khalid, do I have your permission to proceed with the treatment?”
Zoë wanted to scream at how powerless she felt as she watched the Innari commander shake the offered hand. This wasn’t right. She didn’t need to know the details to assume that Helix was going to do something unspeakable to Alexandra von Eisstahl. He couldn’t continue to get away with such outrageous lies. However, at the same time, Zoë was morbidly curious to see the pretty monster’s plans unfold, just as she was curious to see when the universe would finally have had enough. Too bad that when that happens and Helix is brought low, he would drag her along. At least she would have a front-row seat to watch it happen if that damned charming smile of his was anything to go by.
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