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When It Rains, It Pours
Interpersonal Space

Interpersonal Space

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An empty canister of cryocore gel, violently, tumbles through the air, crashing with a bang off the staging room’s steel wall.

The sudden, startling gong, jars everyone’s concentration.

And the once normal toned discourse, taking place by the food crates, is now the center of attention, for every single being in the room.

Then, more shocking than the aluminum on metal clamor, one voice contests. Furious, edged,monotone and deliberate, "This! This right fucking here! This is why I left the U. Ignorant assholes like you. Blindly following the orders of a group of arrogant bastards who think they have the right to dictate what's best for everyone else."

"Calm down Cap."

"Fuck you Admiral. Seriously. Fuck you. Your beloved organization refused these people assistance for nine years. Nine, fucking years. But now that some scumbag’s kid, happened upon a rock with a similar geo to their old home world. A world they let be decimated by scavengers, because there was no gain in helping them. Now you're going to intercede? By relocating them whether they like it or not? You're going to displace these people from another home. One that THEY spent a year and a half bleeding to build. For what? Some good press? Some feel good vids? It's an ass fucking without a reach around. Not even any lube. So, Fuck you! Fuck the UoSS! And FUCK YOUR CALM.”

The man, in the green mechanic’s jump suit, starts for the exit then turns, “And, don't you EVER call me Cap again. I don't work for your organization anymore, and YOU haven't earned that familiarity."

Captain Eric Steward, UoSS - Resigned, walks through the automated door, flanked by two, equally pissed off, identical looking women.

The sliding bulkhead closes behind them. Steel plate meets solid steel with a clarity. A resonance that, in the now perfect silence, resounds, with the same sense of finality as a door slamming shut in ones face.

"That was rude. What the hell is up with him?" asks one of two techs, interrupted from their work by this outburst.

"Bad blood flows thick. And that man seems to have developed cast iron veins." responds the darker haired of the pair, before returning to his task. They're connecting processors to a massive mainframe. He’s been around. Seen this stuff before. For him, it’s more amusement than distraction. There's nothing like seeing a higher up get taken down a peg or two.

"Who were the two women that stormed off with him?" The younger one asks.

"His First Mate."

"And the other one?"

"They're the same person."

"What?"

"You haven't pieced it together yet? They taught you about the Saturn Fractioning in Leap Annals, didn’t they?"

"No," the tech assistant replied.

"Wow. It’s only been what four maybe five years." The quality control tech shakes his head in dismay, handing a three prong spanner to the younger man. He sighs, "Tighten the jumpers."

‘Did they just will it away? Might be time to retire and start teaching,’ he thinks to himself. 'Okay. Let the class begin here.'

-------

February 5th, 2117. Saturn's Rings Mining Facility. Personnel Teleport Pad.

Three beings are checking the upgrades done to a gen five teleport ring. They are, Captain Eric Steward, a lanky, disenfranchised young earth man, in the service of the Union of Solis Systems, commissioned to the Fast Ship, UoSS Excalibur, his First Mate, FO T'ann Selki, a tall, willowy, Dionisian female with olive skin, light blue hair, that borders on white, and piercing metallic-purple eyes, and, lastly, Chief Engineer Dolin Sako, an earth male, a teleport design specialist with an air you can't mistake as anything but pompous.

T'ann is studying the new codes on the terminal's display, "There's no prime factor recalls in the regen system?"

"It doesn't need them. The memory buffer reroutes the data through the new subslip matrix." Dolin peacocks.

"What happens if there's a Solar Particle Flare or a Van Allen Event? How would the receiving system know the correct pattern reconstruction?"

"It's redundant in the buffer packet. It's been thoroughly tested I assure you," snaps the engineer.

"Last time I heard that," Cap intercedes, an angry yet sullen leer consuming his eyes, "My Security and Specialist officers were irradiated beyond recognition."

-------

“Cap went through the transport ring first and everything seemed fine,” says the Lead Tech, “But when T’ann went through, there was, an event. A magnetic distortion in Saturn's rings was amplified by a solar flare. It caused a breakdown in the transit signal. The subslip memory buffer protocol enacted, the redundancy initiated, and T’ann was regenned as two halves of herself.”

“I was wondering why they looked so much alike. Considering Dionesians never have more than one child at birth.” the Assistant Tech contemplates out loud.

“According to the psych-med records, they both acted exactly alike. They spoke at the same time, as one, felt the same emotions together, were constantly bumping into each other reaching for the same tool, even when there was two to choose from. Then, and I don’t know the specifics of why, one of them slightly altered her name. And, even though they were still connected by that weird mental bond, they were able to start to do things individually. Not all at once, but over time. Then, a few months after the mishap, they just disappeared.”

“Hmm. You know I always wondered why there’s no gen fives around? I always thought it odd that there’s still gen fours here and there, and a handful of gen threes in the rougher quads. Gen sixes and sevens are plentiful enough. But I’ve never seen a gen five. Never even had a requisition for a single part for one.”

“There was only one ever made. The prime factor recalls were reintroduced into the five's programming. The five was scrapped and the sixth was born.”

“So this outburst was born of that incident?”

“No! I believe this out burst was born of this exodus, that incident, and another one that happened many years ago. The irradiation of his SO, who happened to be his fiance, and his Specialist Officer, a little over a year before. He resigned his commission shortly after Saturn.”

“I probably would have too.”

“Maybe," he laughs, "but you probably wouldn’t have written your resignation letter in indelible ink on the beaten up body of a Teleportation Engineer.”

The spanner releases the last locking cage, securing the last processor in place with a click. “There! Done.”

“Admiral! If the cryocore tank is full, we’re ready to run prelims.”

Back on their ship the Arglwyddes y Llyn, affectionately known as the Lady, Cap and T look out of the forward lounge’s window. There’s a tension in the air. Shared by both of them. It’s stress forged from futility. Made heavier by seeing the hard work of others and yourself go to waste, because of some bureaucratic disregard. But they know it’s more than just that. The Council doesn’t get involved in things, altruistic.

The view before them is disheartening.

Twenty five acres of level ground in a octagonal pattern. Buildings and houses, crafted in an architectural mix of Pagoda and A-frame chalet, almost completed. They're surrounded by cultivated rows of crops on all eight sides. The streets of cobble are empty. The usual hustle and bustle of three thousand lives, striving for survival with an uplifting energy, is gone. Only silence and stillness remains, as the residents pack their belongings for a trip. A trip they’re being forced to take.

“You’re going to do something stupid aren’t you?” the man in the middle hears, in stereo.

“I prefer to call it devious.” He replies.

“Well you know I'm with you...” his right ear processes.

“...no matter how dumb the idea may be.” his left receives.

“I love you too.” He chuckles. He feels a head rest on both of his shoulders. “It might be time to call D’vorrak.”

A disconcerted sigh greets him, binaurally.

-------

The loading dock, usually a systematic choreography of stacking and sorting, is now a seemingly organized chaos.

Heavy movers and jostling metal crates bring a symphony of sound. Orders are barked loudly, just to be heard over the clamor.

Hand signals emphasize shouts. Light wands direct motion through tighter, less visually navigable paths.

The klaxon sounds, a portent of the transport gate's energizing. The LEDs flash green. Another wave of people and supplies are about to be passed through.

Outside, the temporary transport facility, it's calm. Eerily serene. A shadow descends from the clouds. Stealthy and swift.

The Lady lands in a billow of dust.

Her landing gear hits earth, within the same footprints she left behind a week ago.

Her absorbers recoil as she settles in place. She’s home. And she’s feisty. Seven days in space, traversing through slipstreams while fending off pirates and smugglers, will do that to a crew.

Her black opalescent shell crackles with energy. The static remains of a quick-burst through hyperlight.

Her engines shut down. She sensually slinks to the ground. Her skin turns back to a very soft Ivory. A glimmer of pearl. Her airlock opens with a hiss.

Three figures emerge in full combat gear. Malervion style armor. Gifts from a queen. Matte black ceramic. Demon eye red visors. With, one or two, new scars across the chest plates. Two of the helmets displaying the same.

The three figures walk with a purpose. An intensity.

Up the path. Through the building's entrance. Down the corridor, striding right into the loading dock. Helmets on their belt. Crossbolt-casters holstered on their backs.

The klaxon blares, prematurely. There’s still fifteen minutes for cool down. This shouldn't be happening. The LEDs shift. From cool-down yellow, but not to the outgoing green like they have been for days. This time they're blue.

This is an incoming transport.

The gray metal wall, beyond the empty space of the arch, disappears. It’s replaced by an offset view. Like a picture standing in the middle of the room encapsulated within the grid work of the gate's outer ring.

Black polished spires of hematite stand proudly among a field of green polished stone. A sky of red. Swirls of dust.

Two humanoid figures. They're stepping out of the frame.

They’re both draped in cloaks. Dark, silvery and shimmering. They are human. Earthling, but something is definitely off. Their bodies are... odd, less curved. Their skin is thick, leathery. Impossibly so. Their faces and flesh are flush.

One of the black figures is upon them fast. Gathering the feminine one in a loving, longing embrace. She hugs him back. He pulls the other in with them.

He puts his head to their foreheads and addresses them both. “It’s good to see you. Talk later. You're a little early. Let’s get to work.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” The Admiral demands, but his tirade is cut short when he sees the face of the one in black. And the weapon that's now readied in his hand.

“This is an eviction Admiral. A forcible one. Violent only if necessary.” The gate goes cold. The offset, dark landscape is replaced by a familiar gray wall. “You are to cease and desist all operations on my planet. And leave.”

“Your planet? I’ll have you know we have been in negotiations with...” his voice trails off, the implication of the armor bringing an uneasy tension. A realization.

“Your negotiations have... been the victim of a hostile takeover. King Salias remembers the pacts. Who forged them. Who kept the oath. And who relented. This planet and all the cadmium belong to me and the Dulfammer now. And the UoSS is no longer welcome here.”

“The mining rights are ours. We have every right to be here.”

“Wrong! The mining rights were yours. Yours for as long as Malervia claimed dominion. Just as you swore to aid her in contract to their queen yet refused to assist the King, after she passed. The four of us, on the other hand, honored those words. Our words. Our handshake. Technicalities of Breech I believe the Council called it. The lesson was learned. And now it comes full circle. Tell them not to get any ideas about coming to claim it by force. We’ve already negotiated with the MWF on the ores behalf. Neither the Dullfammer nor I have any need of it. They’ll trade us well. And they’ll mine it cleaner and quieter than you ever would.”

The Admiral is silent, grinding his teeth. He scans the room looking to his subordinates for support.

Some are terrified by the sight of the cloaked pair. The two humans they now recognize as a possible health hazard. They're definitely suffering from radiation sickness. It's changed their make up.

The others stand, hands locked behind their heads. They've surrendered themselves, under gun point.

He shrinks and resolves, “What happens now?”

“Well. First, I’m getting the people you tried to kick off this planet back. Then you and the rest of these fine, upstanding, UoSS puppets, minus those two techs over there, are going to live on that wonderful world for a couple of weeks. I figure that’s how long it will take for a longhaul voyager to get to you. Don’t worry all UoSS supplies will be left on that side of the gate. This gate will then be disassembled and crated up with their help. And we’ll drop them off at Rudion Station.”

“This isn’t going to sit well with the council.”

“The Council? You think we give a fuck about the Council. It’s because of the Council that the four of us, and the thirty five hundred on the other side, have had our lives put in upheaval and turmoil. No other reason. Their impatience and greed. The lack of regard for anything but their self worth and their total disregard for the lives of others. This could have gone a lot worse for you, Admiral. A lot worse. Especially if you had completed your task. I think a couple of weeks on that inhospitable rock, you were so happy to shove these people on, will give you time to meditate on how their actions affect others. Who knows maybe you'll surprise me and start a rebellion.”

“Do you honestly think the five of you could hold off a full scale invasion with one ship? You know those others won't fight. And even with MWF support, if they even came to your aid at all, you’d be hard pressed just to escape.”

“First off. There’s four of us. T’ann and T’anne are still one person.Secondly the MWF will NOT come to our aid. That's not a clause in our agreement. And we'd never ask them to. They will, however, wholeheartedly protect their mining interests. Should the need arise... Thirdly, and this you need to pay real close attention to, I found out the true, not so benevolent, nature of the Councils plans here. Do you know how?" He pauses, staring right into the older man's eyes. "No clues? I'll tell you then. We have thousands of connections Admiral. Thousands of people on many, many worlds, that we’ve aided and fought beside. And even if they were indirectly involved, the sons and daughters of people we helped. Shopkeepers on planets that we assisted at the time. They were appreciative. Some of those very same people went on to become diplomats, or mechanics, or any of a number of positions in the Union. And because of that, I can guarantee you this, IF the Council, so much as utters the word war, in regards to us, or it even ponders the tiniest act of aggression or malevolence, WE, will be on our ship before the ink is dry, or their thoughts even come to voice. And you’ll not only be looking for new Council members, you’ll be rebuilding the whole damn facility. UoSS HQ included. You’ve only seen the Lady sitting out there looking pretty in her ivory sundress. But when she dons her little black battle dress, you’ll see something new, something stunning. Her dance, is a beautifully, brutal, ballet of bane.”

“Gates ready love,” T’anne declares.

“Let’s get this over with. Open it.”

The gate to Espes opens and the last UoSS officers and their remaining crates are sent through. Over the course of a few cool downs The Dulfammer are returned.

A long awaited reunion has no need to be second fiddle anymore.

Lead Tech, Orin Mayer watches. He's heard the stories. A few of the incidentals may have been left out, but for the most part he’s been privy to the tales. A lot more than his underlings he fears.

Incomplete intel. No support. How the man that stands before him had died. Defending the home of those he defends this very same day. How those same people saved him. Gave him back his life.

Rushed decisions. Untested mechanics. How one became two that are still just one.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

New technology. No previous unmanned testing. Computer models don’t get things wrong. Arrogance. I created this and I am special. The Council approves. How the other pair was poisoned by a faulty uranium-cad reactor. A failure. He’s heard all the bullshit before. He can’t believe that they’re both here, both alive. Seven, eight years later. They look much better than the pictures he’d seen. Bubbled yellow skin. Horrific disfiguring over their entire bodies. ‘The pain they must have felt.’

As if reading his mind, Pam answers a question he hadn’t vocalized. Her voice is dry, “That planet you just saw, through the gate, it's made up of hematite and jade quartzite with a heavy magnetic field. It nullifies radiation. The Soloarn Priests have a sanctuary there. Queen Nivalesse transported us there herself. It took five years for the swelling to go down and the pain to fade. They prayed over us every day. I don’t know if you believe in that stuff but it works. At least it helped us feel like someone cared. And that alone gave us the strength to fight, helped us live. Just ask Eric he went through the same with the Dulfammer.”

“Well you both look fucking great,” Cap remarks. Stepping in to the conversation.

“Oh please,” Jay laughs, “I look like the Thing from those old Fantastic Four comics.”

“With a sunburn.” Pamela chides.

Cap takes her chin in his hand, “You're still beautiful.”

“No I’m not. I may have been, but not now. Look at me Eric. My eyes are blood red. My skin is rough. My body blocky. Just look at me.”

“I am,” he continues, “I'm looking and I'm seeing. You were beautiful then. An earth girl perfection in my eyes. That red just brings out the green in those eyes. Your still beautiful. Just a different beautiful now.”

“You say that,” Jay intercedes, “But who would have us now?”

“I would,” declare Cap and T’ann in unison. They look at each other and grin.

“What are you saying?” Pam asks, confused at the easy conviction in their voices.

“Look, I know you two had a thing on that planet, and it’s okay I get it, I also know it didn’t last. And you know that me and T kind of fell together through necessity or need, But T’ann never lost her love for Jay and I never fell out of love for you either.”

“If Jay would have me I’d gladly have him. And I know Cap never stopped loving you. The only question is, do you think you could share a bed with T’anne?”

“Wait. WITH Eric... and T'anne?”

“MMHMM!” T chimes.

“But. You're the same person, even now. How would that work?”

“I am,” both halves agree.

“There’s that right there,” Cap explains, “She quite often still speaks as one voice together, it’s like having a head set on when she’s on either side of you. Sometimes one half finishes the other half’s sentences. Which is okay if both halves are in the same room. Annoying if you have to ask her to repeat herself because one is in another place. And unsettling if during a quiet spell she just blurts out half a statement she was saying to someone else. Still, certain traits of her chemical personality are different between the halves now. And ever since we implemented your idea to add a letter to one of their names they have fostered those differences.”

“How do you mean?”

“I always thought you were pretty Pam,” both halves say.

“But the part of me that was attracted to you as more than a friend...”

“...or a sister..."

"is the part of me that this half harbors.”

“You mean?”

“Yes!”

“T’ann has a nostalgia for Jay..."

"...and T'anne has love for Cap and the hots for you.”

“And I’m tired of sleeping in the same bed with myself. It’s weird. Always has been.”

“Kinky and fun...”

“...but weird.”

“So,” a voice from over by the console interrupts, “Pam is the one who suggested adding the e?”

Cap eyes him up, “You’ve been eavesdropping this whole time?”

“Yeah! This is history. The history kids like this guy don’t get taught anymore,” the Lead Tech nods to his assistant, “And by the time we’re through here, my commission’s over. I am not reenlisting. I need to teach. I think, I want to teach now. And stories like this need to be taught. And taught right. Factually. I’m Orin by the way. Orin Mayer”

“Well stick around Orin and we’ll fill in the blanks.”

“But be forewarned you may not like what you hear.”

“Or what you see. But right now, we have our lives to sort out." Cap turns back to his returned crew mates, "Is the radiation out of your systems completely?”

“Yes.”

"So you don't need to go back?"

"No." - "We're good."

“So what’s it going to be? You two going to stick with us?”

Jay looks at T’ann with hope, “You really want to get back with me?”

“Yes. Very much so. We lost too many years together.”

“And you’re not disgusted by my looks?”

“I think you still see yourself as you were right after the accident.”

“And even then, I would have stayed with you. If I could have survived that place I would have.”

“And what about you Pam?”

“Are you willing to be with Cap and me?”

“I… Eric are you sure? I don’t… feel… like I used to.”

“You’re kidding right? The four of us back together as we should be, with a slight twist? After all the shit we’ve been through? We earned this. Yes, my angel. I’m sure.”

“Then yes, I’ll stay.”

“Me too.”

“Welcome home.”

-------

“You’re still writing about them in that book of yours?’

“Hello Eric. Yes, they're fascinating. And it's good you're here, let me ask you. How would you describe their features, in terms that someone who never left earth would understand?”

“They’re short, I’ve never seen one above five feet tall. They have soft, medium length fur. It's coloring goes from a golden honey brown to a rich chestnut. Patterns in all sorts of styles. They’re nimble, simple in their needs. They have ears like rams horns, that curl from their temples to the base of their skulls. Eyes like chipmunks. Koala like noses. Their faces are very round in a cherubby way. Their lips are very much human.”

“They are a very interesting people aren't they. Very spiritual. The way they speak their language is avian. And yet they speak ours with such grace. They don’t have any capacity towards violence do they?”

“No Orin, they do not. They are very spiritual, grounded to life. There's an energy in certain planets they can pull from. And they are far more intelligent than you or me. Or any human we’ll ever meet. They never had a need for violence, until we showed up. The worst of us anyway. And even then they couldn’t bring themselves to it. There used to be a thousand times as many. Their old home world hummed. It sang.”

“Is that why you defied orders and protected them?”

“It was a group decision, a ship wide one. It was the first hint to us that the UoSS wasn’t the benevolent version of Starfleet from those old Earth shows T used to make us watch.”

“That was during your first months on the Excalibur?”

“Yeah. I should have resigned the day they gave her seat to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Excalibur was Arthur’s sword, the one he pulled from the stone. Bad omen.”

“How was it a bad omen?”

“Arthur broke that sword using it to protect his pride. Much like the council broke our faith, and nearly broke us, just to bolster their egos and profits.”

“Interesting correlation. Very philosophical.”

“Not me. That’s all Pam. She's the brains of the outfit. I'm just the more dubious. Jay says we should have renamed her Caliburn. But I don’t think that sword portended anything good for Arthur either. I mean he did die wielding it.”

“I thought he died wielding Excalibur?”

“Depends on the story. After he breaks Excalibur he’s given Caliburn from the Lady of the Lake. Some say it’s the same sword, just a different language translation, but it has different magics. So even if it was Excalibur mended, the fact that it was different at its core, means it’s wasn't truly Excalibur anymore.”

“Hmm. Speaking of those two, how are they doing these days?”

“Pam and Jay? They’re doing good. They have their moments. Pains now and then. They’re not used to the physicality of this place yet. The grav on Medella is a little lower than here. But they’re in good spirits. Getting stronger by the day. I can see more of their old selves coming out day by day. Pam is finally accepting that I find her sexy as hell. She started sleeping naked again. T’anne’s happy with that too. But every now and again they still get a look. Like this is a dream that they’ll wake from… but we can usually snap em out of it... How’s your Padawan fairing?”

“Padawan?”

“Sorry. T is an old earth science fiction fanatic. And we were together at the Academy before we served on the Ex. I’ve seen a lot of the vintage vids. You should check them out sometimes. Just don’t get too absorbed in the technical stuff. It'll drive you crazy. A Padawan's an apprentice.”

“Oh. You mean To’Ak. He’s loving it here. Thanks for letting him stay. Thanks for letting me stay too… He’s learning how to farm. Seems to enjoy it more than all the engineering he did. I think he has a crush on Teyssa.”

“She’s a cute little furball that one.”

“That’s rather rude.”

“No it’s not. You know they call us surteks right? Do you know what that translates as?”

“I thought it was off-worlder or their version of earthling.”

“It means fake furred. Because of the clothes. They can take a joke and give it back. And so can we. I mean Elder Surrah and I spent hours one day insulting each other and laughing our asses off. God I miss him.”

“Is he one of the ones who brought you back?”

“Yes. Unfortunately he died before we could get there this time. He would have liked this.”

“Sounds like you don’t want to talk about that experience. The dying and coming back I mean.”

“I don’t remember it to talk about it. I remember knowing I was dying. The wound was bad. Watching my body get left behind as I floated away. Being in a warm comforting place. Then hearing Pam’s voice. And that strange lyrical warbling they do tugging me back. An energy engulfing me. Then I woke up. If you want that story you’ll need to talk to Pam.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“I did want to ask you something personal though.”

“Shoot.”

“It’s about T’anne.”

“Figured. Go ahead.”

“If, like you say, she’s one being. Doesn’t the ummm...”

“Sex get weird?”

“Yeah. I mean if she can feel and experience both halves of herself doesn’t that get awkward at times?”

“Not at all. If you noticed when ever I talk about the two halves together I call her T. When I talk about the half with out the e it’s TeeAhn and the half with the e is TeeYan.”

“I did pick that up.”

“Good. Well if you ask her halves they’ll tell you that, even though they share a mental link they don’t necessarily need to share the here and now across that link. While T’ann is over there reading a book and T’anne is off swimming, it’s T that’s receiving the inputs and experiencing both. And depending on the circumstances each half can either experience it in the background or experience it full force. It took a long time for her to develop that sense of control. Allowing both halves to grow independently, while still being her. Yes, she may have two different bodies and both of those bodies may have slightly different personas but they still share one common mental connection. She is, quite literally, the one person, in the entire universe, that can be at two places at once. The way she described it to me one day was simple. You have your left hand and your right hand and your head, If, say... your left hand is stung by a bee, the head knows, so the right knows too, it just doesn't feel it. Unless it hit a nerve that travels. Most of the time now, for the last year or so, they are like separate beings. Twins with a much higher developed sensory bonding. Until they’re sitting next to each other, then T usually makes her appearance.”

“And that’s when they start talking in unison?”

“Nah. That happens all the time. Sometimes you’ll be in a room with T’anne and ask her a question and T’ann will answer it to whoever she’s with. Depends on which half had the first hand knowledge or experience. The other one knows too, and will answer if you repeat the question, but the half that learned it will usually be the one to answer first.”

“That’s interesting.”

“You think that’s interesting. Try working alongside one half while she’s having a conversation with the other half who is all the way across the compound from you. Or, like the other night, I was with Pam and T’anne, cooking dinner, when we heard, Eric can you come to Jays for a minute. So I went to Jays and T’ann handed me a bottle of spice we needed for the recipe. We didn’t know we were out of it but T did. Needless to say, there are NO secrets between us.”

“Sounds like it comes in handy though.”

“It sure does. Especially when you’re trying to steal a Rvernik from a warlord and bring it through a slipstream passed scavengers and pirates. So you can trade it for a Zelphian artifact.”

“Why the hell would you want to do that? And where the hell did you even hear of an owned Rvernik? They’re nasty bastards. I wouldn't want to be on the same planet as one never mind have it on my ship.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do. It's like I told the Admiral. We have lots of friends. And some of those friends are a little unscrupulous. Not bad people, but they don’t mind doing bad things, to, bad people. And one of those friends had something a certain king wanted. A king that had a planet under his auspices that we wanted.”

“So that’s how you won King Salias over. Bribery.”

“Oh hell no. To be honest with you Sally would have probably given this place to us just for asking. Out of loyalty and kinship. Or just to fuck over the UoSS. I know you noticed the Queen’s Guard armor. Do you think we bought it? Or received it just for forging that treaty with the U?”

“I thought you got it when you broke ranks during the Tyranor conflict and aided Malervia despite being told the treaty was null.”

“No. We got this because of something that happened long before that. It’s also what prompted Queen Nivalesse to sign the damn pact in the first place. And go out of her way to take Jay and Pam to Medella. We were on a transport run when we heard a distress call. A merchant ship was under fire. We showed up took out a couple heavies and a quickskipper and unknowingly saved her son from a marauder attack. It was years later that we got asked to bring the treaty to her. Since we were in good favor. And who do you think is sitting right by her side?”

“Prince Salias.”

“Now, King Salias.”

“So why the hell did you go through all that trouble when, like you said, you could have just asked?”

“We needed to burn off steam. Fuck stuff up. It was fun. And a trade is better than a favor, among friends. Top that off we needed to distance ourselves for a bit. If we had stayed here, you all might be fertilizer right now. And we’re tired of the senseless loss of life the Council seems to thrive on.”

“I don’t think they’re as bad as you think they are. But judging by your history I can see why you would. Wait? Doesn't it seem a bit hypocritical to talk about the senseless loss of life when you went out of your way to kill how many to get this artifact?”

“You think? Hmmm. So you're saying, we should have stayed here and killed a bunch of know nothing puppets, whose only crime was believing they were doing the right thing, rather than rid the space lanes of some murderers, torturers, rapists, slavers and the like? The same scumbags you swore to protect others from?”

“Well when you put it like that.”

“T told you there would be some things you didn’t want to hear.”

“And you told me there would be things I didn’t want to see. Those vids of Jay and Pam in the cockpit were horrifying.”

“I gathered, by the way you were talking and staring at them when they stepped through the gate, that you had already seen the post accident photos. You looked amazed at their condition. The others looked scared, almost appalled. That vid was only more disturbing because you got to hear their screams. And see the blistering and the blood. The same way we did, in real time. Now imagine being there and being able to do nothing. But that's not what I was talking about when I said that. THIS is what I was referring to.”

“What is all this?”

“It’s the recommendation to the Council two days before their approval of the test flight. The recommendation to the Council before the Saturn Teleport test. The Councils true reason for not honoring the treaty with Malervia. The geological survey of Espes, the planet they were going to send the Dalfammer to. The plans for the planet Radgrid Seven, the one your sitting on, right now. And the one you should really be interested in, the plans they had for you all, if the job had been completed.”

“How did you get these? They’re not copies. They’re originals.”

“You do enough good things, for the right people, and the right things for the good ones. You’ll find one day it comes back, paid in kind. Especially if it involves sticking a poker up a tyrant's ass. You wanted the blanks filled in on that history you cherish. There you are.”

“Thank you Eric.”

“Don’t thank me. I haven’t done you a kindness. Well we did, but this is not it. You’ll know what I mean after you process it. I’ve had years to digest this crap bit by bit. You’ll have mere hours to choke it all down. And Orin," he pauses, holding out his hand, "Call me Cap.”