New clothes? Check.
Fusion blades? Check.
Anti-tank weapons? Check.
Balls as blue as the goddamned sea? Check, fuckdammit!
There was a threat, Adrian was forced to remind himself as they hurried down the polished white and chrome corridors that were ubiquitous within the Aratas, guided only by the presence of doors that had remained open for their express passage, part of an overall plan to slow the menace down while the crew could prepare. He had been repeatedly forced to remind himself of the fact that they were facing a serious and potentially very deadly threat that would require his full concentration, but with Jen standing right beside him he was finding that a very difficult thing to achieve; his mind kept turning to far more interesting things involving the two of them and no clothes.
“This is going to get us killed,” he said in frustration after the third time he’d found his attention, and his eyes, drifting elsewhere. “We need to focus on what we’re doing!”
Even as he said it, his mind was rebelling against him and returning to those few glorious moments prior to Askit’s unwanted interruption, and his gaze tended to linger in certain important areas when he turned and looked at her. He knew he should simply stop doing it, but this wasn’t the first time he was acting against his better judgement and – unless it got him killed today – it wouldn’t be the last.
“I know,” she replied, her own hungry eyes on him. They’d been like that all the damned time they’d been walking; he could feel her eyes on him when they should have been paying attention to everything else, but instead of agitating he had only found it thrilling. “But that’s easier said than done. Maybe we should talk to take our minds off of… it? You were speaking with Askit while I was busy getting changed, I take it you have some sort of plan?”
He did have a plan, and for once it was a plan that he liked. It was true, in part, that formulating this plan with Askit’s help hadn’t given him enough time to change out of his torn-open shirt into new clothing, and that was the story he’d stuck with. The fact that it was actually because he thought it made him look like a badass was a secret he would take to his grave.
“We were discussing ways to see things that are cloaked,” he replied, forcing himself to think of the little grey alien rather than Jen’s ample- dammit! “I was asking about the fire control system. Did ever see the movie ‘Hollow Man’? It had Kevin Bacon in it.”
“I was only around ten or eleven when that movie came out,” Jen replied. “So the answer is ‘no’.”
“Jesus Christ,” Adrian muttered. That was one way to make a man feel old. His rejuvenation had had such an impact on him that it was hard to think of himself as being a man in his late thirties. “The idea is that the water will splash off of the invisible thing and you’ll be able to see it, or at least you’ll see its outline..”
“Starships use a sort of foam aerosol for fire control,” Jen advised him, “but you probably heard that from Askit. I know that one of the freighters we took had a fire break out, and that stuff caused a huge mess that stuck to everything so badly that the boys needed to wash it off before moving it over. So for this it should work even better than water.”
“I was hoping that’d be the case,” he replied, pleased with himself. “Those things aren’t half as dangerous if you can actually see them, assuming they’re the same things that were on the space station.”
That was hopefully the case; robospiders were hardly dangerous at all if they were visible, but he still preferred the idea of engaging them at a range. That he and Jen would also be getting covered in foam was simply icing on the cake, or on the girl as the case may be. He looked away so that she couldn’t see his mouth twitching into a smile.
“It’s a good idea. Very clever,” Jen complimented him, and he felt her eyes burning into him with renewed interest. “Now if only we could fix that awful taste in movies.”
They finally reached the start of the section that had been doused in the white mess of aerosol and foam, and they trod carefully at first only to discover that the floor itself was slightly sticky rather than slick. It hardly carried any kind of scent, but if there was anything it smelled like it must have been some mixture of pineapple and mint.
“In my defense I was young and had free tickets,” he protested as they began to make their way carefully through the substance, looking out for goop-covered invisible machines whirling through the vapour. “I took a girl I liked at the time.”
Jen gave him a look of mock jealousy. “Oh did you now? Could it be you’re trying to make a girl jealous, Mister Saunders?”
He winked at her. “I don’t know what you could mean, Miss Delaney. But I’m afraid that relationship did not work out.”
“Don’t tell me,” she asked with a grin, “that she couldn’t abide Mister Bacon’s cinematic masterpiece?”
“It might have been the fact that the tickets weren’t next to each other,” Adrian replied. “I’m told a sleeping woman drooled on her.”
She laughed, and he grinned at her like an idiot, delighted by the sound of her. The surge of primal fear caught him unexpectedly, and his grin slipped only slightly, but it was enough for her to catch it.
She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
That was a difficult question for him to answer; how did you tell someone that you were suddenly absolutely terrified of losing them? He hadn’t really thought about it before – death had always seemed as though it could happen at any moment – but right now he found the idea of her death an absolutely unbearable nightmare, and there was nothing he wasn’t willing to do to ensure that that did not happen.
He stopped walking and took her by the arm, holding it firmly. He could feel the warmth of her body through the thin polymeric cloth, and caught a flash of a world where that flesh was cold and dead; a flash of that was enough to twist his heart in a knot of cold pain, driving the air from him in a short gasp.
“God, no…” he whispered to himself, before speaking to her in a wavering plea. “Jen,” he asked, “can you please let me do this alone?”
There was no mistaking the flare of her temper, and her eyes felt so piercing, so accusing that he struggled and failed to avoid looking away. “Adrian,” she warned, “I told you before that I dont’ need protecting.”
He nodded. “I know you did, but if you get hurt-“
Her own hand found its way atop his, squeezing firmly. “Adrian, I’m not going to let you take all the risks,” she said, “I’m not a damsel in distress who’s happy to let you do that for her. I can help you, and quite frankly if you look as though you’re going to strangle me again I swear to God that I will stab you.”
She was right; he knew she was right, and yet that belief was too weak to shield him from his fear. This woman, who had once been terrified, confused, and all too happy to let him take on all of the risk, was now utterly unwilling to allow him to do so. He much preferred her the way she was now, but it would have been nice if she wasn’t going to make him fight her on this; he doubted he could give her any kind of rational argument.
“I won’t do anything like that again,” he promised her without reservation. “But please… please stay safe. Please let me do what I’m trained to do, what I’m good at doing. I’ve dealt with these things before, and I’m pretty sure I can do it again, but I need you to be safe.”
Stubbornness was writ on her face as she scrutinised him fiercely, her hard eyes searching his face for some new form of deception, softening once she’d found no trace of any, then growing ever so slightly wider as she touched her fingertips to his face and brought them away wet.
She stared at her fingertips, as though she was completely bewildered. “Alright,” she said, her voice soft and trembling. “Just… just, alright.”
+++++
Cizziz was watching the movement of the two humans as they moved towards the threatened area. Askit – their Corti son – had delivered a message about what was planned and Cizziz was ready to carry out his part of it.
The plan was simple, at least as far as he understood it, and was straightforward enough for even a dullard to comprehend. He had ordered a full withdrawal from the area and had shut all of the doors, and had only to track the integrity of each to determine where the enemy was. This strategy he had already sent to the other vessels in his fleet, but aboard the Aratas the two humans would investigate, and that once they were in the same area Cizziz would deploy the fire dispersant.
It therefore constituted a clear break from the plan when one of the humans had turned around to begin returning the way they had come. Communicators had unfortunately not been part of the equipment his subordinates had provided them with, and so he could only watch and hope that there wasn’t any kind of subterfuge going on.
He gave that possibility his undivided attention.
He still didn’t trust these humans, and he wasn’t going to let anything more untoward occur on his watch.
++++++
Jennifer Delaney. Mid-twenties, space-babe pirate queen and colonial governor, space debris impersonator and professional con artist.
Idiot.
She had stood still while that man had hurried on, making his way down the identical corridors towards an alien death machine. She had listened as his footsteps had vanished, and only once she was left in silence did she turn to begin the slow walk back to her quarters, trudging her way through the mess that covered the floor around her feet.
She had no idea what had happened, and she felt a curious sense of disconnect from the exchange that had just occurred. The more that she reflected on it, the more she didn’t want to, and the more she felt she had to.
Jen decided that she had lied to herself; she had promised herself that she would not give in and let that man simply run off and risk his neck alone, not if she had a say in the matter. And yet she had done just that.
She had threatened herself with repercussions should she back down, but those were yet more promises made to herself. They had been made to ensure she stuck to her guns, to make sure that first promise remained unbroken, and at the time she had been so certain that with these she would hold to it, but in the end they were as empty and easily ignored as it had proven to be.
But they had all been lies, and Jen felt sick. She was sick of herself, sick of her weakness, and sick of being the girl she didn’t want to be. She had learned to hate the girl who let others be in control, simply because the alternative was too difficult, and she had pushed herself so hard to rid herself of her, and yet here she was again, being obedient, being afraid.
Not wanting to ask that man why he was crying.
Not wanting to even think about the fact that it was possible. That man was supposed to be powerful, he was supposed to be intense and dangerous, a surprisingly intelligent man with an equally surprising sense of humour. That man was supposed to be a lover and a fighter, a ridiculously sexy badboy for a girl whose only sexual partners were a somewhat effeminate office worker and the bloke who fixes the printers.
He was supposed to almost be a myth, a force of destruction that swept aside his enemies to protect his friends, to protect her in spite of what she said. He was not… he was not supposed to cry. He was not supposed to beg. He was not supposed to break.
She stopped her slow pace, and stared down at her hand once again. The fingertips were dry now, but she could still feel the tears that had coated them. She wiped them hurriedly on her new shirt, but they were no longer a physical thing and it did not help.
She had built him, she now realised, into what she needed him to be. Even when she had feigned strength, she had needed him, or at least the idea of him. That had kept her going, it had kept her pushing on when everything was awful and she was a lonely human lost in the great void of a galaxy that feared and hated her for what she was. The idea of him had been there when nobody else was, the idea of him had been there when he was there as well, but the idea of him had always seemed the better option, the stronger option, and that was the one she had always chosen to see, that was the one she had felt all that anger, hatred, and passion for.
But the idea of that man was not that man.
“God,” she gasped, grabbing hold of the corridor wall for support. “Keep it together, Jen. Keep it together…”
Keep it together? She was already crying, clutching weakly at the wall to hold her up as she began to bawl her eyes out about everything she’d been holding back since she’d been abducted. Since before that, even, when her life had been just as big of a mess as it was now.
Where was her strength now? Gone; the levy had broken and it had been swept away as the lies she told herself crumbled under their own weight. She’d been pushing this line for so long that the only surprise here was that it hadn’t happened sooner, and if it hadn’t been for the idea of that man she was sure that it would have. She was under no illusions that this would not have happened if he had only not reminded her of his humanity, of the fact that he could also be afraid and in pain. Although it might have happened at a more opportune time.
For the moment she decided to stop resisting, to just let her tears to run their course and then she could move on. As what, or as who, she didn’t know, but she hoped it could be someone who didn’t need to lie to themselves to keep pushing on. Someone who could live with the truth of things, and had the courage to take their fate in their own hands.
In other words, someone else.
+++++
Adrian had hated leaving Jen behind, almost as much as he hated the idea of bringing her with him. Maybe they should find somewhere nice to live, just the two of them, once this was all over. He didn’t know that he wanted to try marriage again, but if it was with her…
He shook his head, he’d told himself that he was never going to make that mistake again, and he intended to stick by his decision.
Still, he had to admit that she was worth protecting, worth killing for, worth everything to him… Adrian determined that he was not feeling well.
The Soldier took over.
Something was very wrong; even detached as he was, the Soldier was feeling the violent and erratic mood swings that were beginning to take hold of him, the blurriness in the mind that accompanied it and the sudden shifts into and out of depression. He was being poisoned.
He looked at the floor, noting the vapour that rose from the foam. It was intended to prevent combustion, but he hadn’t asked what it might do to him. Surely if Askit had thought there was anything that could hurt him… unless Askit had been the traitor all along…
Paranoia, the Soldier noted. He was carrying a fusion blade and an anti-tank gun, and he couldn’t be trusted with either if his detachment from the emotions were to degrade completely. He was too deep in now, however, and there was only the possibility of pressing on, to find this thing and destroy it and then hope like hell he could get out of the mess before it overwhelmed him completely. He was glad that Jen had gotten out when she did, because he wasn’t at all sure what might have happened if she was still here.
Nothing good, he was certain of that much.
He reached the final door, finding it sealed, but already there were holes being cut into it with invisible weapons. It seemed as though they’d managed to fix the power supply problem.
Good for them.
Big Bird should have opened the door right then, but nothing happened. He was supposed to do it, though, because he definitely had the sensors that told him where everyone and everything was. Did he know of the effect this stuff had on humans? Was that his intention all along?
The Soldier would kill- the Soldier would take control of his emotions.
He was breathing heavily, aware that each breath drew in more of the poison but unable to avoid doing anything else against such mental stress. Here, at least, there was no decision to be made; Big Bird had been meant to open the door, but he had not opened the door, and the evil machine was doing the job for him.
There was no need to wait for it to work its way through; the Soldier powered up his own blade and set to work.
+++++
Jen came to when she was being pulled along the corridor, surprised by the fact that she’d been unconscious, and starkly aware of the unfortunate self-revelations she’d experienced before she’d passed out. She felt guilty, and horrified, and far too self-aware for her own liking.
She wished she had some really strong alcohol to help her forget all of it, but so far it seemed as though the galaxy was completely, accursedly dry. Not exactly an Irishman’s galaxy, she thought wryly.
“What happened?” she asked as a Corti – it was Askit she realised after a moment of squinted study – came to her side.
“We don’t know,” he said. “You were not moving on the sensors, so we came to find you. Do you feel alright?”
“Yes…” she said absently. “Also no…”
Askit shared a look of concern with a member of the ship Jen imagined was likely to be some sort of medical agent. He was some sort of crustacean, bright red in colour and squat.
“I’m Doctor Hakathrita,” the crustacean introduced himself. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
Her ego, mainly, along with depths of her psyche that didn’t really need all of those self-confessions made in the corridor of an alien ship. She was still trying to piece them all together, trying to decide what the hell her emotions were supposed to be doing and if they were actually doing anything like it.
“I’m just confused,” she told him. “I’m not sure there’s a pill for that.”
“Only to increase that particular malaise,” Doctor Hakathrita replied with a chuckle. “Do you feel well enough to allow your son here to return you to your room?”
“My son?” she asked, before remembering the story they had told the Fleet Master. “Oh… yes, my son… if you would be so kind.”
She got herself to her feet, knowing that she would tear the limbs from anyone who offered to assist, and was not surprised or offended when nobody did. She felt wobbly, but that was nothing compared to the overwhelming sense of foolishness that burned within her. She needed to get back to her room, even if it was just to hide herself away and think.
She had to think about her place out here, to think about what she wanted to do with herself whether she wanted to stay or to go home. She had to think about what she needed to say to Adrian, as well as how she actually felt about him rather than the man she had pretended he was.
She turned sharply, and had she not flailed a grab for the corridor bulkhead she would have spun herself off of her feet. For the first time since she’d developed it, the power of her improved body was working against her. “Adrian…” she said sharply upon remembering where he’d gone.
“You mean your mate, Drian-Ay?” Doctor Hakathrita asked. “We have yet to recover him. It seems he’s holed up in a side room and is shooting at anybody who gets close! It’s lucky he hasn’t actually hit anyone yet.”
Jen looked down at Askit, who seemed as concerned and mystified as she was. He shrugged, purposefully using the human gesture to indicate his complete ignorance.
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Jen told the Doctor. “He’s erratic sometimes, but he’s not that erratic.”
“Then perhaps you could talk to him before you rest?” Doctor Hakathrita asked. “The Fleet Master requested I asked it of you if your condition was well enough.”
Jen sighed. It seemed that once again she was pulling Adrian out of the fire, only this time she wasn’t sure that she could bear to face him. It also didn’t seem as though she had much of a choice. “I’d better go and talk to him then.”