Not sure about buying Masters of the System: Genesisters just yet? Fair enough.
Have a free sample. On the house.
Then when you’re hooked, head to the books page to buy a copy… >:)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

 

 

 

Sanny – The Arcade and the Soldier

Arcades were objectively the best places on the planet, at least in Sanny Hedges’s experience. They were places where people came together from all walks of life, from all ages, and either competed or cooperated in ways that were always entertaining.
It was a place where the outside world, the outside universe dissolved. All that remained were the experiences, the small cabinets, and the people who were worth protecting.
Which was why, when Sanny slammed open the doors to her favorite spot, a small hole in the wall just called ‘arcade’, she wondered if she had instead walked into a funeral parlor.
 Despite the visible crowd of people, it was somehow even quieter than after the ‘incident’ a few months back where everyone was feeling a bit solemn.
Something was absolutely wrong.
Looking around, she saw that all the folks inside the dust-smelling, poorly lit arcade were all crowded around one specific arcade machine, which was normal, but none of them were cheering or discussing the match on the screens.
They were watching in silence.
“Honey, I’m home.” She said to the room.
She got one or two looks back, but the expressions she got confirmed something was up.
“Leave, Hedges,” A voice from the right said. Sanny turned to see the owner of the arcade, sitting behind his counter, reading his newspaper.
Sanny walked over and leaned on the counter. “No, It’s Sanny Hedges. I’m here like three times a day, you’d figure you’d know my name by now.”
The balding old man peered over the top of his newspaper and looked her in the eye. “Don’t be cute, Kid. There’s a soldier hogging the Burner machine right now.”
Sanny leaned back in surprise. A Soldier? Here?
While Sanny loved the small arcade, it wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. It was dimly lit, smelled like dust, sweat, and alcohol, and had one of those carpets with the neon squiggly lines in them. Honestly, it was an arcade that was very out of place in Upper Eidou.
It was why Sanny liked it. Upper Eidou, while not fancy by any means, was a bit too clean for Sanny. She had grown up in Lower Eidou, packed like sardines in communal housing like all the other refugees from off-world who escaped the war.
Her happiest days had been in LE, back when she lived with her sister instead of living in her sister’s usually empty house. Sanny tried to be grateful, knowing that Alex’s absence was for a good cause, but it just felt so… lonely. It was why she loved the arcade. There were always people at the arcade. Smiling people.
Well, maybe not always always.
Sanny looked back at the crowd and the arcade machine, trying to watch the external screens.
People usually came to this arcade to either play, or watch real players compete, in Master Burner. It was the greatest arcade game ever built in Sanny’s expert opinion.
The game consisted of two large tear-shaped pods connected at the roundest point. Several external monitors showed any passersby the action within the game from multiple angles.
The game itself was a 1 on 1 space-themed dogfighting Sim. Each player controlled a spaceship and tried to shoot the other down. The unusual draw was that the ships were controlled by players shifting their body weight on the seats, while buttons controlled the speed, shield and weapons under the handlebar’s thumb positions. The seat moved slightly as the player leaned to give feedback that all was working. Leaning backwards caused the ship to rise, while forwards caused the ship to descend.
The control seats were akin to a motorcycle body, minus the wheels, and instead connected to the ground by a sturdy, flexible pole in the ground. The handles were stationary, making it easier to shift one’s weight around to control the direction of the virtual ship.
At first, she found the limitations of the games odd. Why not shoot and fly at the same time? Later, Sanny had been informed by a good authority on the subject that the controls were very close to actual spaceships piloting. It apparently made combat feel more responsive and was one reason the Agean Realm was winning the war.
Or well, why they had been winning… until the incident.
“He any good?” Sanny asked the Old Man.
“Haven’t been watching, but he sounds like he has an ego, and a dumpster for a mouth. In any case, you should leave. You’re still banned for drawing on my machine.”
She gave a large smile, “You mean improved it. Besides, that ban lapsed two days ago and you know it. Is that the reason you’re trying to keep me from the machine? Because of some washable ink?”
“Sure, let’s go with that. I’m just trying to keep my small part of the world safe, and I don’t see you and him working well together. Steer clear, Kid.”
“Clear of Burner?” Sanny said turning back. The old man was back to reading his paper, not looking up. Sanny noted the headline. ‘Further rationing incoming?’
“Yup, clear of Burner,” He said. “Get out before you do something reckless. He’s my problem. Not yours.”
She scoffed. “Me, do something vanilla? Preposterous.”
He replied by turning back to the newspaper and clearing his throat.
“Ok, but what do you mean do something stupid? I’m on my best behavior when I’m here,” She asked, leaning on the counter between them.
“Then I’d hate to see your home life,” he said. “I mean do something like walk straight into a fight you can’t win.”
“In Burner?” She asked, incredulous. “Please, I always win.”
“What about that blonde kid?”
“That doesn’t count,” Sanny said, through gritted teeth. “He cheated.”
Sanny looked up at the leaderboard. Her one loss stared back at her. The player, known only by the name ‘Sharper’ had found a cheat in the game and had been able to be basically untouchable thought their match. The was cheating. It didn’t count, despite what the leaderboard said.
“Un-huh. Look, you’re here often enough that I know you won’t listen to me, but the big guy in the game? He’s hogging the machine, being a general pain to my customers,” he gave a deep sigh, “and is looking for you.”
In uniform could only mean he was a soldier in the Realm’s army. While the Realm didn’t force people into conscription, it was rare for someone who had been scouted to join to refuse. Being in the army meant your immediate family would have all their basic needs met. It was something with which Sanny was quite familiar.
Seeing a soldier around town wasn’t rare, especially since they were grounded for most of the year. That said, one in this specific arcade in full uniform was quite the oddity. With the added prestige of being a soldier, you’d expect that they would hang out in places much nicer than some dingy arcade.
Sanny looked at the arcade owner. “Looking for me? Why?”
He pointed to the area above the Master Burner pods, where a high-score screen floated. On the top of the leaderboard, with 136 wins and one loss, was Sanny’s alias. The Showboat was heads and shoulders above everyone else listed there.
A slow smile crept across Sanny’s face. Whoever this soldier was, he wasn’t looking for some blue-haired girl in a slightly overused jacket, nor was he looking for her based on her sister’s connections. He was looking for a challenge. That was the type of social situation she could deal with.
She smiled at the owner. “He’s in the game now?” She asked.
He gave a long sigh and motioned to the machine. “You should learn to listen, Kid.”
“I do listen,” She said, leaning forward on the counter. “I just think you’re underestimating me. In any case, What’s on tap this week, old timer?” She said, offended.
She pulled out her ID and slid it over to the old man. He eyed her, then then card.
“Still can’t believe you convinced them to put ‘blue’ as the color.” He said.
“Why?” She said, holding a blue lock of her long hair from the unshaved side of her head out in front of her as evidence. “It’s legit my natural color.”
He gave a half-hearted shrug before scanning the card with a handheld barcode scanner. The machine made a ‘beep’ with a green light. She was both of the right age, and had credits left in her account. He slid the card back and moved to grab a glass from the small kitchenette behind him.
“Ooh, a surprise liquid this week? No options?” she said, smiling.
He gave her a glassy stare. “A) I know what you want. B) We don’t have any. Got one thing on tap, just like everywhere else. Thank the war for that one.”
He poured her a thick brown liquid that Sanny could tell from a distance was going to burn through something in her body. He placed the shot glass down in front of her.
“Here. Enjoy, kid.”
Sanny quickly downed the burning liquid, trying not to think too hard on it. The drink wasn’t as bad as she suspected and was not nearly the worst thing she had drank there. The blue stuff from last time? Nasty. Stuff had caused her to cough for a few minutes afterwards, which was why the old man called her ‘Kid’.
She hated the nickname. Nineteen wasn’t a ‘Kid’ anymore, at least not on this planet. She knew full well that the old man did it to get under her skin, but she hated it.
Besides, living on her own so much, she was probably more ‘adult’ than anyone else in the room.
Thinking about the name gave her an idea, though.
Cold air brushed against her skin as she took her jacket off, leaving it on a stool near the counter. As she did, she noticed another hole in the jacket she had missed the last time she checked. Did this bring her to the 20 hole mark? That would be depressing if she weren’t already focused on something else.
“Guard this with your life.” She said.
He replied with a shrug.
She removed the elastic from her hair, letting it fall down her back and hiding the undercut on her left side. She then tried on a smile, one that, she hoped, conveyed innocence.
The old man said, “Just don‘t draw on my machine again, or I’m going to shoot you.”
“I’ll have the last laugh. You’ll need to clean whatever I bleed on,” She said with a smile as she walked towards the game machine.
As the match ended, she approached the machine. The pods opened up, revealing the soldier and his freshly defeated opponent on their respective sides.
The opponent couldn’t have been more than 10, but the Soldier gave a cocky laugh and made a dismissive motion.
“Who is next?” the soldier all but yelled. “Is The Showboat here yet? I am tired of wasting my time on shrimps and losers.”
Sanny met the defeated kid’s eye and winked at him. He seemed to know who she was as the smile grew across his face. She gave a subtle ‘shh’ motion and turned away from the kid.
 He was going to be avenged.
Sanny walked up to the soldier’s side of the pod. The man had to have been twice her age and spent at least half of it at the gym. He was a very imposing sight, even seated on the arcade machine’s controller seat, lit by the white light of the game’s interior screen. Like the owner had mentioned, the man was wearing the Agean army uniform, a dark blue high collar jacket with a white trim, paired with matching pants and hat.
The white rings at the base of his sleeve indicated his rank. He was a Cinqumander, fairly high-ranked overall, with only five levels of bosses between him and the Queen. Most soldiers which Sanny had met, with one big exception, were Septmander or lower.
She approached the man in the pod and changed the pitch of her voice to sound more like a child than a fully grown adult, and changed her posture to be more aloof.
“Mr. Showboat is the champion of this arcade, Mr. Army man. Are you sure you can fight him?”
“Easily.”
“Wow.” Sanny replied, worried she might be laying it on a bit thick. “Can you teach me how to play? I’m an ok player with the auto-aim on.”
The soldier gave her that look that everyone always gave her. The one that said ‘Seriously, little girl?’ He was playing right into her hand.
“If The Showboat isn’t here,” He said with a sigh, “I guess I will need to occupy my time somehow. You can’t be any worse than the rest of the trash here.”
Sanny forced herself to squeal in delight. The folks here were anything but ‘trash’, but calling him out on it would blow her cover. Who the hells did this rando think he was?
She turned and noticed a few of the people in the crowd had brightened. She made a quick ‘shh’ motion as she entered her side of the machine.
As soon as the lid on her pod closed, Sanny dropped the false smile.
The internal lights illuminated the small pod with a low white light. Just enough to see the edges of the pod and not accidently bump into it, but not enough to interfere with the screens.
It was enough to show an image on the section of the controller which had the buttons. The image was of a woman in military garb with a speech bubble which said, “Good Luck!”
Somehow, the image, which was probably innocent enough always annoyed Sanny. The image always had the most judgmental eyes, especially given who it was.
To the population, the image was of The Paragon, the sole hero of the realms, single handedly fighting to keep the war far away from the twin Eidou cities and the planet Klein in general.
It was an image of a success story. An ideal for the population to work towards. Proof that even an off-world refugee could find success within the Realm of the Ages and be universally beloved by all.
For Sanny, it was the image of her sister, simultaneously absent and always around. The woman she loved and idolized before it was cool. The woman who was seduced by the army to go pilot the fighter ship that the realm is choking out the population’s resources to build.
The ship, called The Master, was freaking cool though.
Sanny looked down at the small representation of her sister and pulled out a marker. After drawing a pair of super cool shades on it, Sanny felt a lot better. She knew that there would be a mirrored copy on the other side, judging her opponent instead.
Turning back to the game, Sanny chose to play using the guest profile built into the machine to not tarnish her near-perfect score. She let the soldier win the first two matches, trying really hard not to laugh as the man tried to run her through some ‘tactics he had developed’.
“And you learned how to play this game in the army?” Sanny asked.
“Yeah,” He replied with a scoff. “At the barracks, we have access to flight sims that make this watered-down version cry at night.”
Then why the hells was he here? Just to cause trouble? Sanny rolled her eyes as she let herself get shot down like a chump.
That was when he pushed the last of Sanny’s buttons.
“You will go far with what I’m showing you, kid. Between us, I’m sure that I could out-fly the Paragon. From what I hear, she’s a crap pilot.”
Out-fly the Paragon? Terrible pilot?
She might be mad that Alex wasn’t around. She might despise the army for taking her away. But nobody, nobody, talked about Alex that way.
Playtime was over. She was going to bury him.
“Wow. Better than the Paragon? You really must be good…” she said into the small tube that connected the two machines.
Sanny removed the elastic from her wrist with her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She cracked her hands and added in her normal voice. “… Or so far up your own boring vanilla ass that you can lick your lungs.”
She slammed the button to log into her normal profile and could only imagine the look on his face as the words “Here comes a new challenger: The Showboat” flew across one of his floating screens.
The pods were supposed to be mostly soundproof. Regardless, she could hear as the crowd went wild outside the pods.
Then she absolutely destroyed him. In the next five matches, she didn’t take a single point of damage. Of course, as her ego grew, so did the frequency of the insults she was throwing at him.
Maybe it was her comment about him being about as useful as the cabinets atop a refrigerator. Maybe it was the insinuation with the goat. Sanny wasn’t quite sure when she had gone too far, but the mechanical groan of her pod being forcefully pried open confirmed that he didn’t share Sanny’s sense of humor.
One minute, Sanny was sitting in the arcade cockpit pod. The next, the top of the pod was ripped open, arcade neon and blacklight pouring into the chamber.
The man stood, red faced, glaring down at her.
“You! … You!” He stammered out.
“Win?” Sanny said sheepishly as her brain began to scream ‘RUN!’.
The big man growled and began to reach in to grab her. Sanny quickly rolled off the controller landing in the space between the pod wall and the controller. She felt her heart racing as the big hand grabbed the seat and pulled it back away from Sanny as he leaned in to grab her.
She had nowhere to run.
Before he could reach in further her and turn her into mincemeat, a sound echoed thought the suddenly very quiet arcade which made the hair on the back of Sanny’s neck stand on end.
The sound was of a blaster powering up. The man seemed to hesitate as he turned.
Sanny slowly sat up, peering over the chair to see the old man, on his feet, aiming an energy rifle at the soldier.
“Stand down, son.” The old man said, staring down the barrel, one eye open. “With your impromptu opening technique there, I already need to repair the machine. Cleaning your brains off the side wouldn’t be that much more work.”
“What a crock of shit,” The soldier said, “I’m part of the army. You can’t –”
A green flash came from the muzzle of the blaster and lit up the room. The blast hit the ground just below the Soldier’s feet on the ground, leaving a small section of smoldering carpet, visible in the room as it darkened back to normal.
“Wanna try that again, son?” The old man said, “I don’t care if you’re the Paragon, Primander, or the Queen herself. If you deserve shooting, you get shot.”
The soldier stammered for a second.
“Hedges. Move.” The old man said. Sanny slowly sat up and slinked out of the machine, moving over to him.
“I appreciate the backup.” She said, grabbing her jacket from the seat she left it on.
“Fight you can’t win,” The Old man sighed, not looking over at her.
“Ok. Fair. I still say that I would have figured a way out.” Sanny said. “I always do.”
“Oh, yes. Sorry for stepping on your toes then,” The old man said, sarcastically. “Next time, I’ll let you get pounded.”
Sanny rolled her eyes. Still, it was nice to know that the saying ‘The Ageans have your back’ was true, even here.
“In any case, thanks.” Sanny said.
“Best way to thank me,” The old man said, “is to take your jacket and go home for the day.”
Everyone except the old man watched as she silently moved to the door.
“Want me to get some soldiers to come and pick up Mr. GrabbyPants over there?” She asked as she pushed the door open, allowing sunlight into the room.
“Already on their way, Kid.” He said, not taking his sight from the soldier. “See you tomorrow.”
“What makes you think I’ll be back?” She asked.
The old man scoffed. “Because I’m not that lucky. Unless you somehow start piloting The Master, you’ll be back in my hair sooner rather than later.”

 

 

Alex – A modest proposition

Alex Kaedin sat at the motorcycle-like seat in the Pilot’s room of the ship, trying to ignore the various sirens and lights that had been going crazy since the last hit they took.
The flashing red lights, sirens, and distress she could feel from the crew of ROMs assaulted each of her senses. While connected, she could feel their fear as strongly as her own anxiety. She couldn’t tell where their panic ended, and hers began.
The SG-Master had taken a last-minute shot to its back thrusters just as they had made their escape through the wormhole. She was lucky that she hadn’t exploded instantly on impact, but as the giant blue orb of Klein grew in one of the floating monitors in front of her, she knew she was going to crash. Probably directly into Eidou, the most populated city on the planet.
“Deumander…” came a voice among the sirens and alarms.
Everyone on-board had known there was a possibility that they would not make it back home. She had already felt a few of them pass as she had piloted, but this was different. The civilians on the ground were supposed to be safe. They signed up for nothing.
She had to do something. They were going to crash right into the city.
“Alex!” the voice repeated more forcefully.
She watched as the planet she called home encompassed the entire screen, with the heat of re-entry growing more intense, even safely behind the environmental shields, and with the cockpit deep within the ship. Alex tried to regain control, but the seat wasn’t responding to her weight.
She was going to die. Sanny was going to–
“ALEX!”
The voice finally broke through, bringing her back to reality with a jolt.
She found herself back in her kitchen, her heart beating a million times per second, the smell of burning electronics assaulting her nose. She was in front of the coffee maker on the small island next to the sink. Why was she in the kitchen?
Coffee. Right, she was making coffee for herself and …
Then it all came back to her at once and her blood ran cold. Damn that loose wire.
She looked up over the counter at her guest, who was sitting at the round glass table a few feet away.
The tall blond man gave her a very concerned look, or well, very concerned for him.
“Are you alright, Alex?” he asked.
Based on the fact he was still seated, her flashback couldn’t have lasted long. Primander Eltor Beasly, Commander of the Agean army was not the type to sit idly by while someone suffered.
Ok, Alex, calm down. You’re safe. Deep breaths.
“Sorry, Eltor. What was I saying?”
“You were asking,” he replied in a very slow measured tone, “how much sugar I would like in my coffee.”
He gave a quick point towards Alex’s hands.
She looked down to see that while her mind had been occupied with the flashback, her body had been on autopilot. The tiny cup was now one-part coffee, twelve parts sugar.
Alex exhaled in frustration, before looking back at her guest.
“Sorry. Do you still want this? I can make you a new cup.”
“Yes, a new cup would be appreciated,” Eltor said.
Alex picked up the cup, moved her wheelchair over to the sink, and poured the sugar with a hint of coffee down the drain.
“I was going to ask,” Eltor began, continuing to show the slightest hint of concern, “if you would be interested in seeing the Agean Army’s resident psychologist. Now though, I will have to order you to see her.”
Primander Beasly was the commander of the Agean army, the highest ranking non-Royalty member of the organization. He was also one of Alex’s closest friends. He had this knack of appearing to be cold in every situation, but Alex had learned to read the man’s emotions.
“No. I am fine, El,” she said, grabbing an extra cup from the drying rack beside the sink.
He sighed. “With all due respect, Deumander. You are not. Do not lie to me, or yourself.”
“If you order me to see a shrink, I will turn this temporary vacation at home into a permanent one.” Alex responded in a non-committal tone. Both knew this was an empty threat. She was, after all, the only one who could continue the fight.
An almost imperceptible smile appeared on the Primander’s face.
“Is that why you’re here, El?” Alex said. “To tell me you think I’m crazy?”
“No, Alex. Far from it,” He said. “Although, may I remind you that what you’re going through is a perfectly normal response to what you’ve been though. What we’ve caused you to go though.”
“Nothing about this feels normal, Eltor.” she said, suppressing a shiver.
 “Everyone needs some help, Alex,” he said, a sly smile appearing on his face. “I would expect the Agean Paragon to know that, given that selflessly helping people is what you’ve done the last four years.”
He had a point. That’s what she did. She was the only one who piloted the Agean ship at maximum efficiency to keep everyone safe.
Or well, she had been.
She picked up the coffee carafe and poured some of the brown liquid into the cup for her guest. As she put the container back on the hot plate, she gave the appliance a small glare. She knew she should just replace it, what with that wire constantly coming loose. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so. The loose wire was easy to fix, and the coffee maker had been made back on her homeworld.
Besides, with the resource shortages, it felt wrong to ask for something so trivial for just herself. No, she sighed to herself. It got to live another day.
She turned back to the cups. This time, she limited herself to the requested single teaspoon of sugar and handed the coffee to Eltor.
He gave a quick nod and sipped his liquid.
Silence lingered in the air.
Alex grew impatient. “I doubt you’re here just to check up on my wellbeing.”
“On a personal level, yes. I am. How has it felt being at home?”
Alex looked around the house. It was almost exactly as she had left it when she had last visited. Everything was the same, except for her sister who had somehow gotten so much taller.
 “It’s helping to remind me why we do what we do. Who we are protecting.”
He said nothing as he took a sip of the coffee.
After a moment, Alex said, “Ok, but really. Why are you here?”
He put the cup down with a heavy sigh. “The Queen wants you to make a public appearance.”
Alex’s blood turned to ice.
“In this?” she said, louder than she had expected. She motioned to the wheelchair which had been her prison since she had left the hospital in secret and been confined to her house, guarded to keep onlookers away.
“Yes,” he said coolly.
“I don’t understand,” Alex said, trying not to notice the cold sweat running down her back. “I thought the whole idea was to keep the people’s broken hero out of sight for as long as possible.”
“It was.”
“What changed?”
Eltor took a sip of coffee before continuing. “The Queen has been informed of an assassination plot against her and needs a distraction while she flees.”
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose. It was always subterfuge with these people. “Again?”
Eltor nodded.
“What does this have to do with me?” she asked, more to keep him talking. She already had a good idea of how the two events were linked.
“It’s a deflection. None of the populace will talk about the Queen’s disappearance when Deumander Alex Kaedin, Paragon of the Realm, announces publicly that she will train the next generation of pilots.”
Alex glared at the man. “I’m doing what now?”
“Giving a little speech and spending a few days at the barracks to keep up appearances. That’s all,” he replied, immune to her glare. “You’re well aware that just because we have an official story doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”
This time, Alex let the silence speak.
Eltor reached into his jacket and produced a small envelope, which Alex instantly recognized as the type that was sent out to individuals who had direct orders from the palace. He looked about to place it on the table when he hesitated, then retracted it and pulled out a suspiciously similar one. This one he placed on the table and slid over in Alex’s direction.
“Your official orders,” he said, “are to show up at the Army barracks for a press conference. Once the conference is done, you are to spend your days at the barracks. Whether you choose to train, lounge, follow the official story, or see the psychologist we can have assigned to you is up to you. However, we need to maintain the illusion that you are training the new pilot candidates.”
Alex felt herself shrink. “I’m being replaced?”
Eltor gave a subtle sigh. “Alex, I never said that. All I said was that we have new candidates. Project Arcadia was a success.”
Alex clenched her fist. She had been opposed to Arcadia from the beginning. Scanning the extraplanetary refugees for a certain genetic marker while they were having a medical checkup was one thing. Doing it to the general population without their knowledge though? It seemed so… invasive.
Of course, they would still go through with it. Who says no to the Army?
“But by having pilot candidates,” she said, “you’re implying that there will be a new pilot, meaning I’m not needed anymore.”
He sighed. “Ignoring the fact as you’re well aware that the SG-OverDrive is near completion, which will require a second pilot regardless of your health, let’s be realistic. In your current state, you are not stable enough to place the fate of every being in the Realm on your shoulders. Ignoring whatever just happened with the coffee a few minutes ago, I’ve noticed that whenever someone mentions your ship or our enemy, you freeze up. What do you think will happen if we bring you to an actual cockpit?”
Alex’s hands clenched hard against the handles of the wheelchair. The mere mention of the Flock of the Ten, the genocidal conquerors who forced her off her homeworld usually made her blood boil.
Being almost shot down, changed that. She wasn’t afraid, but her body was.
He was right, she was useless at the moment. She did her best to keep the rage off of her face.
He seemed to pick up on it, his tone softening. “We have time, however. If, and I do mean if, you can prove you are recovered enough to be entrusted with the life of every member of the Realm, then yes, we will re-evaluate. Until then, we need to make sure we have a backup plan.”
“Aren’t you the backup plan?” Alex said, trying really hard not to sound bitter, with mixed results.
“No,” he said before taking another sip from his cup. “I am, at best, the last resort. Our enemies are too skilled to insult with my attempts at piloting.”
Alex took another deep breath to calm herself. He was right. Maybe therapy wouldn’t be a bad idea. “How long do I have until the Region Unlock?”
For reasons that were still not understood, spaceflight was only possible for a 72-hour period every year. Despite researchers spending days and nights studying the phenomenon, there had been no real explanation on why an invisible barrier kept all ships restricted to low orbit outside of this window. There were plenty of theories, but none of them made much sense to Alex.
The Region Lock was not unique to the planet Klein either. Every planet in the known systems had the same issue, and the days in which inter-planetary flight was possible remained consistent between worlds. The enemy used the short openings to colonize other worlds, which made it the only time the Realm could fight back.
Eltor pulled the left sleeve on his jacket back, revealing his Arm Mounted Terminal. The standard black-and-white screen strapped to his arm beeped to life as he tapped it. As he stared at the AMT, he replied. “We estimate the regions will unlock in about 200 days.”
Under a year. That would be more than enough time to recover, wouldn’t it? It would have to be. Alex needed to be able to fight. She needed to protect. She was the only one that could.
“I will be ready. Mark my words, I’ll be ready by the next unlock.”
Eltor smiled his subtle smile and placed this cup on the table. “I’m glad to hear it.”
He stood up and saluted. Alex gave a half-hearted salute back.
As Eltor reached down for his cup, Alex heard the bathroom door from across the hall slam open, and a very familiar voice yell, “Get the hells out of my house, you damn bootlicker!”

 

 

Sanny – A surprise at home

Sneaking back into the house was as easy for Sanny as sneaking out. She had mastered going through the bathroom window when she didn’t want to be harassed leaving or coming back in. After the morning she’d had with the vanilla soldier in the arcade, she was grateful to not have to deal with the guards outside her house who would’ve been wearing the same vanilla uniform.
Thankfully, inside her home was officially a no-uniform zone. No soldiers were allowed inside the house unless there was an emergency. It was one of the very few rules Sanny had been able to enforce after the Paragon had been sentenced to recover at home.
Which meant, with her luck that morning, that of course the head-honcho soldier would be standing next to the kitchen table. Her blood boiled when she stepped out of the bathroom and saw her sister casually talking to the man in uniform.
Before she could stop herself, Sanny found herself blurting out, “Get the hells out of my house, you damn bootlicker!”
The man coolly turned towards her, unfazed by her outburst. “Ms. Hedges, I presume?”
Sanny recognized him immediately from her many spaceship magazines. Primander Eltor Beasly, second only to the royal family where the army was concerned.
Sanny scrutinized his face. He looked as if someone had taken a pile of bricks and attempted to arrange it in a face-like shape. The look in his eye told Sanny that he had never smiled in his life, which matched the way he stood. He was a Primander, all right.
“No, I’m a godsdamn insurance salesman.” Sanny replied.
“San,” Alex said, an exasperated tone already in her voice. “He’s a guest. Be nice.”
Sanny glanced over at her. With just a quick scan, Sanny could tell that this visit had not been planned. Alex’s brown hair was a total mess, and she still wore the clothes she had worn the day before. Sanny knew Alex would not have dared greet a guest, let alone someone in uniform, in such a state if she had had any say in the matter.
The man held out his hand. “Eltor B—”
“I know who you are, Primander.” Sanny replied, rejecting the man’s handshake with the back of her own. “And let me guess, you’re here to make sure your puppet is ready to fly again?”
“SAN!” Alex scowled.
“It’s alright, Deumander,” he replied in an infuriating monotone. “After everything that’s happened, I can forgive such a response. Besides, I have business with Ms. Hedges here as well.”
“Oh?” Sanny said, a smirk jumping to her face. “What business? You here to ask permission before you take my only family away again?”
“While I understand your frustration, Ms. Hedges, your sister is an invaluable asset to the realm,” He said, “Yes, we may need to borrow her again, but I ask that you hear me out.”
In a more rational state, she would have. She absolutely worshiped Alex. Despite leaving Sanny alone, she had a very good reason. Alex was the only person skilled enough to pilot the only weapon the Realm had in the war. She was beyond heroic, and Sanny was even a bit jealous that her sister was the one who got to ride in the technological marvel that was The Master—the only fighter the army had which traveled faster than light.
However, nearly getting squeezed into blue-haired paste by a giant’s bare hands kept her from thinking about the positives of the ship and her sister’s mission.
“Borrow her? Do you break everything you borrow, Primander?”
“Sanny!” Alex yelled. “You are way out of line! The accident was my fault, not his.”
“No, Deumander,” the Primander replied in his infuriating monotone. “That is false.”
He turned back to Sanny. “There is only one group responsible for your sister’s current state, and that would be the Flock of the Ten.”
Sanny let out a breath through her nose. She knew of the Flock of course, the zealots who went from system to system “converting” the residents to their version of the truth. The gem-heads that allegedly took Sanny and Alex’s families away or turned them into jewelry.
Well Alex’s anyway. Sanny had only really known one family, and she was sitting in a wheelchair glaring at her.
The Flock were a problem, yes. A big one, from what she could understand, but not a problem here and now. They would only be a threat when the lock went down. Until then, they were just a group of boogeymen.
No. The immediate problem was this jerk who was in her house about to take her sister away again. About to leave Sanny alone again.
“If I have any say in this, you will not make her pilot again,” Sanny said in a voice which could command a King. “at least until she has recovered enough to fly.”
“That is up to her and her alone.” Primander Stone-Face replied in that infuriating monotone. “We are the Agean Realm. We do not force our agents into servitude.”
Liar. The day the Paragon of the Realm could refuse the call to fight was the day the Realm said, ‘Gee, Flock of the Ten. We’re just so vanilla. Can you come conquer us now? We’re done kicking your collective butt and want to be slaves. Thanks.’
“Please.” Sanny responded, letting the sarcasm flow. “If you’re not here to see if you can tape her to the ship’s seat and make her fly, why are you here? You’re here collecting for a fund-raiser then? Hasn’t she bled enough for—”
“That’s enough, San!” Alex said, meeting Sanny’s gaze.
Sanny glared back. “No! You don’t get to play the hero here, Lex. You need to rest and recover before they can even consider taking you away from me again. Before they bring you back to me strapped to a bed instead of a wheelchair.”
Alex’s face turned slightly red. She replied through gritted teeth. “San, calm the hells down. What I do with my life is up to me, not you. I know what I’m doing.”
Sanny glared at her for another second, then turned towards her room. “I don’t think you do.”
She took one step before Primander jerk said, “You do not want your sister to pilot again, correct?”
Sanny’s anger was getting the better of her. She turned back to face him, noticing the angry tears forming in her eyes. “Was I not clear or would you prefer I draw you a diagram?”
Did his eye just twitch? No, Sanny must have imagined it.
“Your temper will not serve you well in the future, Hedges. You would do well not to take that tone with someone who might have the solution to your concerns.”
She froze a bit. “Excuse me?”
He reached into his jacket and produced a small envelope, holding it out towards Sanny.
“I came here for a pilot,” he said.
“You can’t have her.” Sanny said, still reeling as she took the envelope from his hands.
“Quite the assumption that I’m here exclusively for her,” He replied. “You, Ms. Hedges, are formally invited to the barracks for a quick meeting.”
“Excuse me?” Alex said, “Invite to—? Why?”
“Arcadia.” he replied.
Sanny saw Alex’s face drain of color. “No. You can’t mean—”
“The results have been accurate so far,” he quickly interrupted. “And my sources have confirmed what we needed to know just this morning.”
“Results? What nonsense are you talking about?” Sanny asked, bewildered.
“Are you serious right now, El?” Alex growled at the man. “You can’t start conscripting my immediate family.”
“As I said earlier, we don’t conscript. In addition, your relationship actually makes the optics of this whole operation a bit more complicated. If she accepts, that will become the PR team’s problem.” Beasly said as he walked towards the front door. “The media isn’t my concern. Winning the war is.”
Sanny watched the man walk down the hall and open the door. “I expect I will see both of you fairly soon. In the meantime, rest up. Regardless of how you decide to proceed, there is a lot of work ahead of us.”
A moment later, Sanny heard the front door close. She could feel the tension in the air lift.
Sanny looked down at the letter. Sure enough, the envelope had Sanny’s name on it. She looked over at Alex.
“What the hells is Arcadia?” she asked.
Alex shook her head and sighed. “I don’t really know.”
Sanny could smell the lie but knew now was not the time to push.
“Is he always a jerk?” Sanny asked.
“Not as much as you can be sometimes,” Alex replied. “What the hells was that?”
Sanny gave a long sigh. “Look, I nearly got murdered this morning.”
Alex rolled closer to her, a look of concern on her face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asked.
“No.” Sanny said, “I’d rather find out what your cryptic bossman was doing here. What did he want anyway?”
“You tell me.” Alex replied, pointing to Sanny’s envelope.