Taking the plunge
Story by Kael Duranus on SoFurry
Imported from SF2 with no description.
So, this one was actually one of the first I got done, back when I was getting back into writing, but I wasn't satisfied with it. I think I fixed the problems, and I hope you enjoy it.
Let me know what you think.
12-4-3015
Time Index; 1518 hours GST
TFV Zephyr
Asgard system, Terran space
Catching the subtle shift of weight in Colonel Prydewen’s stance with a practiced eye, I instantly brought my left leg up, catching his snap kick with the side of my shin, parrying his follow up punches, trying not to think about the ache in my heart. The dream that I had had this morning, of my mate and I on Corusca Island, had stirred up something I hadn’t expected. It was a kind of deep, dull and persistent ache, a pain that only seemed to get more insistent as the hours went by. It was like a predator, stalking me from behind my own eyelids, always there, but not quite in reach. A moment later, I reeled to the side, my head ringing from the hook kick I had failed to block and I shook my head, focusing back on my old friend as a wholly different pain blossomed from the place where his heel had connected.
I was considered an unusually skilled hand to hand fighter even without using my psychic powers, a legacy left over from my time at the Silvermoon academy. But, as my opponent reminded me with a second lightning quick kick coming in from the other side that I barely managed to intercept, I could not afford to be distracted while fighting Pride. While it was true that all Marines were trained in hand to hand combat, Celdanians, like my friend, were in another category altogether.
Almost seven hundred years ago, when humanity had been starting to found the first extra solar colonies, there had been a substantial cultural revival among the descendants of ancient tribal groups, who feared that humanity leaving Earth and spreading out to other stars would lead to a total loss of ancient traditions. The Great Revival, as it became known, had been intended to imbue new generations with an indelible interest and pride in their heritage, hopefully leading to them remaining in their ancestral homelands, rather than moving out to new worlds. While the movement did the former in spectacular fashion, with national and tribal identities springing up in new ways, it utterly failed to do the latter. However, as a side effect of the movement, entire colonies and even star systems retained a tribal identity that was at least grounded in the traditions of ancient groups.
Celdania, settled by people drawn from the eight Celtic nations of Europe had taken the concept a few steps further than most. The Celtic tribes of antiquity, which even the powerful Roman Empire couldn’t fully conquer, had been ferocious and stubborn, and had had a zest and passion for life that had won them both scorn and renown throughout the ages. The Celdanians had adopted the ferocious warrior ethos of the Celts with gusto, until military training was a part of Celdanian everyday life. In fact, not long after the system had been given its independence from Earth, it had become a matter of course for every member of the population to have a sort of double life. The first was a civilian career like you would find on any other planet; the second was as a member of the Planetary Defense Forces. All Celdanians spent a quarter of the year as part of the standing military, and as a result, that planetary system was just about impossible to conquer. That had been proven not long after, during the nightmare that was the New Eden Crusade, when the religious fanatics of that star cluster had tried to ‘purify’ the rest of the galaxy. They had conquered planet after planet, and system after system, right up until they had tried to take Celdania. That had been the turning point to that conflict, the point where their onslaught had been stopped cold.
Nowadays, while children on other planets were learning to play sports, young Celdanians learned hand to hand combat instead. This made Marines from Celdania the literal cream of the crop in close-in fighting. And Pride, having been part of the legendary Black Watch Special Assault regiment could be terrifying if he was really fighting, rather than practicing like we were doing now. I was good, but I had no difficulty admitting that he was often better.
Seizing on the slightest, momentary pause in his advance, I launched into a sudden counter attack, spinning into a wheel kick, aimed at my friend’s head to close the distance, then raining a collection of short punches and elbow strikes upon his guard, resolutely pushing away my psychic instincts that were trying to give me clues as to what he was doing next. That had been part of the agreement for our bout, to make it fair. But, even as he blocked my blows, I found the distracting ache welling up again and, despite my best efforts, I found my mind drifting off from what I was doing, puzzling through it all again, despite my attempts to focus. The real problem was that there was something else beyond the ache, something like a vague sort of chilly foreboding, a faint, dark feeling on the edge of consciousness. The only thing I had ever felt that came even remotely close to it in the past was on the singular occasion back with the Starwolf Legion, when my psychic senses had warned me that an enemy sniper was lining up a shot on me while I had been leading a recon patrol. But that had felt like being on the edge of a cliff on uncertain footing; literally the feeling of impending disaster. This was far more faint, dim almost, like thunder in the far distance.
Once again, my wandering mind was brought back to the present with a jolt as I missed the fiery haired fighter across from me take a half step to the side, widening his stance, his back foot connecting with my shoulder in a thrust kick, only the luck of having just finished my own kick having kept it from connecting with my solar plexus and putting me out of the fight. And then, just as I was using the momentum of the impact to spin into a counterattack, intending to deny him the chance to gain the momentum in the fight, the comlink I had left beside the sparring ring let out a trilling sound, five notes in a rising scale, and instantly, every ounce of my attention was off the red haired officer.
That set of notes was an alert I had programmed into the personal hypercom terminal in my quarters, the alert that let me know the hyperlink chip I had installed there had gotten a message. Since there was only one person in the galaxy that could send messages to that chip, my priorities instantly shifted. No longer was this workout session of the slightest importance. Turning away towards my comlink, I started to head in that direction, my mind already filling fully with the details of my Merxian lover, but before I could take a step, the senses I had been suppressing sent such a powerful warning through my skull that I reacted without thinking. Catching the incoming roundhouse kick an inch from my head without even looking at it, I unceremoniously dumped my opponent onto his back with a swift thrust of my arms, making the other Marines watching us choke back laughter.
“Hey!!!” Pride cried out from his place on the mats, looking indignant. “We agreed that psychics are not allowed!!” Rolling my eyes, I shook my head and picked up the comlink, thumbing its control to acknowledge the message even as I forced the thoughts and images of red fur and emerald eyes back with a supreme effort of will, keeping my body under tight control.
“Sorry, Pride.” I said, stepping out of the ring, my ability to control myself steadily eroding despite my best efforts. “I have a priority message waiting. Duty calls.”
Grumbling, the Celdanian picked himself up, motioning to one of the Zephyr’s Fleet Marines standing by the side of the ring, a similar band of tattoos marking his face as those on Pride’s. Grinning devilishly, the second Marine took my place in the ring, tapping fists with his fellow Celdanian and immediately launching into a rapid flurry of blows, clearly eager to fight. Ignoring the rest of the match, I haphazardly scooped up my gear from the edge of the ring and headed out of the Zephyr’s gym, resisting the urge to run. The moment the lift car’s doors closed, I let the sensation of longing that I had been holding at bay wash over me fully, a gloriously indulgent and painful moment that had me slumping back against the smooth surface of the wall.
My mind ran eagerly through the memories of Katy and I’s time together, every moment we had been in each other’s company. The sound of her almost musical laughter, her wonderful, alluring scent, the feel of her soft fur against me as we held each other, and especially the few moments we had been able to talk about our future. All of it flooded my mind to overflowing with such perfect clarity, it was almost as if she was there with me. But ‘almost’ just wasn’t enough. By the time the lift came to a stop, it was all I could do to keep my body from trembling with the storm of emotion that engulfed me. This time I did pick up the pace, jogging through the corridors to the door leading into my quarters. The moment the secure door closed behind me, shutting out the rest of the universe, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My body started to tremble, shivering like I was freezing and I clamped my jaw firmly shut, swallowing against the yell of frustration I could feel forming in my throat.
Forcing myself to take another deep breath then letting it out slowly, I summoned everything I had to will myself back under control. Another shuddering breath, my fists clenching at my side once more to stop them from shaking, and finally, the raw emotions started to subside. A third breath, steadier this time, and I was able to let go of my clenched hands. Though it hurt worse than the longing did, I pushed the memories back into the depths of my mind, hoping it would stop my heart from aching so much.
Letting out a fourth breath, I headed for the communications terminal, stretching my neck from side to side to relieve the tension. Passing my hand over the clearance reader, the system immediately securing my quarters as it brought up the hyperlink system, I took yet one more breath, this one to fortify myself. Crossing my fingers in hope, I activated the message and felt my heart soar when I saw the still image of my lover from the hips up, clad only in underwear and an undershirt, letting me see every shapely curve of her, a knowing smile on her muzzle. She knew exactly what seeing that would do to me. Staring at the image hungrily for a long moment, my mind trying to freeze every detail into memory, I tried not to feel disappointed that it was only an image, not the real her. It didn’t work.
“Hello, Devin.” She said and my heart lurched at the sound of her voice even as she moved on. “I wish this was a purely social message, and more than that, I wish this was me telling you that I found a way for us to meet up again, but it isn’t. Instead, it’s to tell you two very important things. First, we found something in the information we have on the Conclave that, if our source is right, is very important, but we can’t seem to make anything of it. We hoped that you might have better luck. The image is in the first file attached to this message.” She paused for a few moments then, and I found myself smiling broadly for no reason at all; strange, since all I felt was a hollow sorrow that I couldn’t touch her.
“The second is a little bit more important, but also a bit harder. As we have investigated the files in our possession, two things keep showing up, over and over again. The first is Arc; it is mentioned far more often than it should be, which makes me think that it was much more than just a random target for the Conclave when they orchestrated the attack on it. The other, is a single corporation, one that seems to be far more involved than any of the others we have linked to Conclave activity, one that is, or was, based on Arc. Its name is Long Stellar Transport, and...” That name was so unexpected, so startling, that it instantly shattered my thoughts into little pieces. Whatever my mate said next was just noise to my conscious mind.
Reeling from the unexpected blow, I tried to muster my thoughts, to get my mind working again, but that was a greater struggle than bringing myself under control again had been. Long Stellar Transport was familiar to me alright. It would have been difficult for it not to be. LST was the company that my family had owned since it had been founded. My father had run it my entire childhood, my older siblings joining it when they got out of college, as I would have done if I hadn’t chosen a career in the Marine Corps instead. Now, with my family dead, Jack MacArthur was the de facto CEO, so it made sense he would use its resources for the Conclave. But, if what my mate had implied was true, then LST, and by extension, my family, had been involved from the beginning. Could my family really have been responsible for the death of their own homeworld and by immediate extension, the millions who had already died in the war? It was inconceivable. Impossible. But…
The possibility was shocking. And the more I thought about it, as crazy as it was, the more plausible the idea seemed. Even though he was the close business partner of my father, there was no way Jack would have been able to use LST like that without my father knowing. Or could he? LST was a huge company and nobody, even the CEO, would have been able to keep track of everything all at once. And yet, I had to wonder if I had been naïve to assume that my family wouldn’t have been involved. How well did I even know my family, after all? I had gone off to the Marine academy when I was eight years old, and the last time I had seen any of them in the flesh was a year before the attack on Arc, when they had come to Silvermoon for a Parents’ weekend. Ever since then, my family had really been the Marine Corps. Was it possible that I had never truly known them? Finally realizing that my quarters were silent, I looked up, finding that the message had ended, the terminal requesting instructions. Shaking myself out of the reverie I had been in, I played it through again, forcing myself to attend to what my absent lover was saying this time.
“...and if it really is that heavily involved then there are bound to be records somewhere.” She said. “Fortunately for us, if such records exist, then the destruction of our home might afford us an opportunity we wouldn’t have otherwise. Unfortunately, the Noid system is still contested space, and from what we hear, the invasion is pretty well stalled for our side. We can’t get there, not with any reasonable chance of success, but, you might have a better chance. If LST truly is involved, then the corporate headquarters would probably have something of value to us. If there is even a chance... well, you know what is at stake, the same as I do.” She paused once more, just for a moment, then grinned in the way that made my heart flutter, reaching out her hand towards the projector, as if to take my own, the look in her eyes saying more than her words ever could. Even knowing that we were light years apart, I didn’t even try and stop my hand from reaching out towards her in return, even knowing there was nothing to touch.
“I know hyperlink transmissions have to be kept short to ensure that they all get to where they are supposed to, but there is one last thing that I have to say, because it can never be said enough. I love you Devin, and I miss you very much. I wish there was a way for us to be together. But, maybe it is better for now that there isn’t. I don’t think I could let you go again if I had you here. Goodbye for the present, my love.” The message stopped once more, the image vanishing and I sat digesting what I had seen, trying to compose an answer. Oddly, my mind was calm, focused, even though my emotions were roiling under the surface, outraged at coming so close to her, and yet not nearly close enough.
Katy was right. There was too much at stake not to go. But did I dare pry into it? Did I really want to know? My faith in the previously unalterable truths of my past had already been badly shaken by the knowledge that I had been altered to be part Merxian, for reasons I couldn’t imagine; something that could only have been done with at least the tacit permission of my parents, which in itself seemed to indicate that I didn’t know them as well as I had imagined. But even knowing that only raised even more questions. It didn’t make any sense that they would attempt to blend human and Merxian, and then turn around and engineer a war between the two races. But that right there was the crux of the problem.
If it was only my concerns at stake, then I might not have wanted to risk it. But the known galaxy was ripping itself apart, dozens of worlds burning as the fighting raged across them, and so many others already conquered by one side or the other. Millions were dead, hundreds of millions more had had their lives turned upside down. My own small concerns were nothing, not if this gave us our chance to stop the war, or at least turn its fury towards those that truly deserved it. Even if the worst was true, and my family had been responsible for everything that had happened, it didn’t change anything about what we had to do, not really. If anything, it made it all the more important that I do something about it. Setting my jaw, I nodded to myself, bringing up the files Katy had attached to the message. I was already composing the report in my head that would have to go to Command, saying why the Zephyr was heading to the Noid system, and why I had entered a combat zone without orders from higher up.
Despite the emotions I was barely managing to keep under control, it only took me a few seconds to orient myself to the first file that she had sent me, but when I did, I felt a sense of excited anticipation overwhelm the rational part of my mind, making it impossible to think for a few minutes. This was it, the missing piece we had needed. Shaking my head in amazement, I copied the image to the encrypted partition of my terminal along with the remaining files, which, judging from their size, were much more involved than a simple image like the first one had been. At last, with that task complete, I closed my eyes for a moment, steeling myself for the final task. I had one last thing to do here. To my surprise, I found tears collecting under my eyelids, tears I struggled to banish, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
Katy’s voice, her words reaffirming the love we shared, were a comfort to me in so many ways, a balm to my aching heart, but damn... I loved her with every ounce of my being, and it hurt worse than being shot to be apart from her. The sound of her voice, even recorded in a message like this one, brief and mostly business, made my heart sing, but at the same time, it was like being wrapped in barbed wire. But, for all the pain, I wanted to sit here in my quarters and listen to the message over and over again until I could repeat it backwards, but I knew that would only make this task harder than it was already. It had thought that, given the way I had felt the first time we had sent full holo messages back and forth that it was just a matter of getting used to being away from her and that it would get better, or at least easier as time went on. I was wrong. This was worse than I had ever felt before, even when we had been cut off from each other’s psychic presence.
It took every ounce of effort I possessed to make me raise my hand to the ‘delete’ command, wiping it from existence, removing even the infinitesimal chance of it being discovered by someone breaking into the hyperlink system. When the program finished the task, I sat, silent and as still as a statue. I had hardly done anything today, but all of a sudden, I felt exhausted, utterly drained. The ache was bitter and so strong it was almost overwhelming. Was this how it was going to be for us for the rest of this miserable war, the rest of our lives, more than likely? Longing for even the sound of each other’s voice in a distant communication? Managing a few glorious days or weeks together here and there while every day we could be discovered and have to face the consequences?
Shaking my head at last, finding that I had been sitting still for so long that the comm. terminal had turned itself off for lack of activity, I wiped my eyes and stood up. No. No, I was not going to stand for that. We would find a better way, a way for us to be together, no matter what it meant. Even if it meant stealing a ship and running, heading out beyond explored space, into the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Even if it meant fighting both of our nations at the same time. Nodding to myself, my resolve solidifying once more, a new reserve of strength banishing the exhaustion, I flicked the activation switch for my comlink once more and spoke into it.
“Angel, this is Knight.” I said, the com unit connecting to the cyborg’s comlink after a moment.
“Go for Angel.” His voice came back and I grabbed the mobile storage chip with the images out of its slot in the terminal.
“I have some new information for our little problem.” I said, heading for the room where I spent most of my waking hours these days. “Meet me in my office, ASAP.”
***
12-4-3015
Time Index; 1850 hours GST
MAS Yunius
Octan system, Merxian space
Katy stood on the bridge of the carrier looking at the central display, her arms crossed over her armored chest. The Octan system was only one jump removed from the front lines of the war, and really, if there had been no war, Octan would have had only the small, ubiquitous automated emergency station and the navigation beacons themselves as the only sign that anyone actually knew it was there. With the entire system consisting of a white dwarf star with a single small rocky planet, burnt to a cinder millions of years ago, and four unremarkable gas giants, each with only a few moons that had nothing valuable in them, it was singularly unimpressive. It hadn’t had anything of enough value to justify even an exploratory mining operation before the war; being little more than a stopover in space travel. But now...
Out beyond the hull of the Yunius, the system bustled with activity, a mobile fleet repair yard and its accompanying supply ships at the center of the jumble, as well as a fleet medical station and a half dozen supply stations. Warships dotted the system by the dozen, some patrolling the periphery in tight squadrons, others docked at one of the stations and still others maneuvering into battle group formations with other ships. For the last few years of the conflict, as several outlying colonies had fallen to the Federation, the insignificant Octan system had suddenly become important, and had been converted into the primary staging area for the Merxian 3rd fleet, commanded by Admiral Antius, and even now, permanent defense stations were being built near the repair yard. But, as impressive as it all was, Katy didn’t really want to be here looking at it. She didn’t want to be clad in her battle armor either. What she wanted was to be in her quarters, seeing the reply that her mate had sent to her hyperlink chip, the message having arrived when she had been donning the last pieces of her combat gear. But no. They had not been in normal space for more than a minute, just long enough to receive the message in fact, when the order had come in for all senior commanders to report aboard the flagship immediately upon arrival.
And that meant that she was there on the bridge, killing time while the mechanics got her fighter ready and the carrier maneuvered through the traffic of smaller vessels to its assigned position in the battle group near the Stilian, the admiral’s flagship. But, even as the carrier’s helmsman slid the huge ship through the tight packed formations with a smooth, curving maneuver, she felt a slight chill run down the length of her spine. A swift count of the ships already assembled into formation, as well as the clear gaps that marked ships that had yet to arrive, revealed that almost the entirety of the Merxian 3rd fleet was assembling here, along with numerous troop transports. Only twice before had she seen so many ships in one system before, and every time had been the prelude to a major offensive. Half a year ago, she would have felt the thrill of anticipation at such a prospect; half a year ago, she would have been eager to hear the plan, would have longed for the fighting to begin. But half a year ago, she hadn’t been mated to a Terran; half a year ago, she hadn’t seen the injustice and stupidity of fighting the humans.
Not waiting for the helmsman to finish guiding the ship to its assigned place, Katy finally headed for the lift. All along, since she and her human had met, she had known deep down that eventually, she would be ordered to go into battle again against the Federation. As the doors to the lift closed in front of her, the pretty vixen thought back to the day over their homeworld, a grin spreading across her features at the pleasant memories. At the time, she had been impressed when her mate had declared that he would not fight the Merxians again, a vow that had turned out to be easy enough for him to keep, in theory anyway, since his recent promotion had put him well behind the front lines. And, though she absolutely shared his sentiment in regards to fighting his people, she had known better than to think that it was going to be that simple. Now, suddenly, that distant day when the moment of decision was upon her was no longer distant. She couldn’t wait anymore to confront this.
“Hanger deck.” She commanded, her green eyes closing wearily. Before, all she had to do was picture a human in her mind, any human, and the burning rage and hate would twist around her heart, until she couldn’t wait to destroy anything even remotely Terran. Now, she felt only sadness, and revulsion at the idea of killing human soldiers, a great many of whom, she knew were only fighting because her people were fighting them. And every time she tried to picture a human face, no matter how hard she focused, it always morphed into the face of her love in her mind. But what could she do?
Granted, she technically could do her job safely ensconced in the flag bridge of her carrier, directing the fight from afar, and thus taking herself out of the situation of having to physically fight them. But even if she could swallow that thin distinction, she could never justify it to herself. The pilots of her command, and especially her squadron, were her friends, and no matter how she felt personally, she couldn’t send them into battle like that, especially not after having led them personally in every engagement since becoming a squadron leader years ago. But she also couldn’t face the prospect of going into battle against her mate’s people, not after having shared every aspect of his mind and memory. She felt almost like the Terrans were just as much her people as her fellow Merxians were, and the thought of having to fight and kill them made her feel that she were being ripped in two. There was only one thing for it.
Since they had begun work on their plans to stop the Conclave, she had been reluctant to involve other people. Tyr, one of her closest friends, was about the only person she had been able to think of that she wanted to trust with this. But if there was any chance of avoiding what was about to happen, then she couldn’t afford to hide it from everyone any more. Swallowing against the nervousness that swirled to life in her guts, the vixen slipped her helmet onto her head, the faint hiss indicating that it had sealed itself to her armor, the HUD coming to life after a moment. Sparing the chronometer in the corner of the display a glance, she straightened up, resigned to the task ahead. When the lift doors opened, she set a quick pace into the hanger, headed for the spot where her interceptor rested, the mechanics performing their last checks as she approached.
Climbing the ladder up into the cockpit of her orange and red fighter, Katy looked to the crew chief that stood nearby, waiting for his signal that everything was ready. When the grease stained mechanic flashed a salute, she returned it stoically, triggering the canopy controls, the interceptor coming alive around her as it closed. Taking a breath of enriched air from the fighter’s life support system, she guided the nimble craft off the deck, already engaging the com system.
“Control, this is Redhawk leader, requesting permission to depart.” She said, pleased that she managed to keep her voice steady and level, even knowing the danger she was about to put herself in. The only chance she had to avoid both courses, was to somehow talk Admiral Antius himself, the commander of the Merxian 3rd fleet, and quite possibly the most loyal Merxian she had ever met, into working with the Terrans. On his own flagship... Surrounded by soldiers that were mostly strangers now... Completely without support or backup if things went wrong...
Stop it. She chided herself silently. That isn’t helping.
“Permission granted Redhawk leader,” Came the reply of the fighter controller. “Safe travels.”
“Thanks control.” She replied, clicking the comm line off as she pushed the throttle forward. “If I’m lucky...”