Chapter 31 - Jericho
Psychosomatic Output: 1,182 Bio-Units
Synaptic Rank: Unbound
It only took a few hours in the med bay to heal his broken body. Thanks to the Trilboroth flooding his veins and the diligent work from Strathos, he left feeling better than ever.
Of course, he still had to endure the old Hokkonian’s belligerent racism, but anything was better than the slop Randrea had given him earlier.
He stepped out of the door as he stretched his arms above his head, relishing the pleasurable strain it put on his tight muscles. He felt lighter, and an undeniable joy put some extra bounce in step.
He was whistling when Randrea caught him in the hall.
“Feeling good?” She mused.
“Better than I have in a long time.” He admitted, “What’s with the stuff.”
She was holding a folded pile of clothes, on top was a small silver ring. “This is all yours, courtesy of your promotion. Welcome to HWND division eight.”
He accepted the bundle with a cheek splitting grin, “Should I put this on now?”
Randrea nodded, “it’s how you’ll communicate with us, it’s already been synced with your AI signature, so you won’t have to worry about that part.”
When he slid it onto his forefinger, the ring expanded and thin silver webbing wound around his hand. It was eerily similar to the imaginary thread that had guided him so far, and he couldn’t help but gape at it.
“You’ll get used to it,” Randrea grinned, misinterpreting his look of surprise.
“No it’s not that, I- “He tried and failed to think of a way to explain the thread without sounding like total nutjob, “I’m just happy to have it.”
It was the safe answer and still valid. He was beyond grateful to receive the device, his promotion still didn’t feel real.
“Well, you earned it, despite what the others say.” She murmured.
Jericho looked up from the silver thread webbed across his hand and met her thoughtful gaze. Not for the first time, he was struck by her sharp appearance. She had the beauty of an ornate dagger, undeniably attractive and simultaneously deadly.
“Why are you being so nice to me.” The words stumbled out of his mouth like a drunk patron leaving a bar.
Randrea tilted her head and licked the sharpened tips of teeth in a thoughtful gesture, the corners of her mouth upturning in a playful smirk, “I don’t what you’re talking about.”
Jericho couldn’t help but return the smile, “Oh come on, we’ve only known each other for what, a week? When I met you in the landing bay you were ready to kill me.”
That dragged a chuckle out of her, “I still might, you never know.”
Jericho raised his eyebrows, “You’ve been defending me since day one, and just now you told me that I deserve the official invitation even though I clearly remember Graito listing like seven different tests that I haven’t done? If I were him, I’d be pissed. It’s not fair, I beat Sto’ram and I’m pretty sure you all think she’s terrible at physical combat.”
Randrea snorted, “She is terrible, I could beat her blind and naked.”
Jericho’s gave his head a shake, words suddenly lost, “I -uh, wow okay, I don’t know what to say to that.”
The female laughed again, this time a genuine rumble from her chest, “I’m messing with you, don’t picture that!”
Too late.
“And I’m being serious! I feel like you know something.”
The insistent look on his face was enough to replace her mirth with a severe look, “Okay look, it’s not that I know something, but I have a gut feeling that there is something seriously wrong. Arthros is being strange, I mean, just look at the way he’s treated you. Everything about this situation isn’t normal, and I think Arthros knows something, or he has the same feeling that I have.”
“Okay…” Jericho said slowly.
“I told you before, but I trust Arthros with my life,” Her voice dropped a little lower, “If he thinks there’s something wrong, then there definitely is.”
The words were chilling, and he tried to ignore the growing pit of dread he felt in his stomach, “So that’s why you’re being so nice, because you think Arthros has a plan for me and you want to help him achieve it.”
Of course that’s why. She was a Hokkonian for crying out loud and he was just a means to an end.
Suddenly her face came close to his and it felt like her swirling white eyes were drilling holes into his skull. He couldn’t help but trace his gaze along the edges of his nose and down to her thin lips.
“Yes, that’s why, but also…” A faint smile, “I like you, Jericho, you’re different than I was expecting.”
His heart hammered in his chest and when he tried to reply his words came out in formless sputtering.
“I- uh, I like- I mean I like you too, I think you’re really cool, and I mean you look good- not that I think about you in that way- I just-” Randrea’s laughter interrupted him and his senseless rambling ended with an embarrassed sigh.
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Kill. Me. Now.
“Don’t worry, I know I look good, and I am damn cool.” She winked and then motioned to the ring on his head, “Alright I was supposed to meet Fyd and Graito in the arena a few minutes ago so let me explain how the ring works. You have to think to activate it.”
When he gave her a blank stare, she had rolled her eyes.
“I know that doesn’t make sense now but trust me.”
She left him standing dumbfounded at the ring on his finger and the uniform in his hands.
She likes me.
***
Now, back in his room, he slid his arms into his pilot jacket and checked himself out in the mirror. He certainly looked the part. The jacket had been tailored to his dimensions and was made from an incredibly tough material, like leather but less rigid and uncomfortable.
Damn I look badass!
On his breast was the blue and gold insignia of the HWND pilots and sewed underneath in golden lettering was: ‘Division 8’. His pants were made of the same material, full black and covered in pockets of various sizes. At his waist he wore a belt equipped with two sheaths, which held his ARC blades.
The ring on his finger chimed, and he lifted his hand to look at it. He jumped in surprise when Randrea’s face materialized a few inches above his palm.
“Admiral Zludikai has called meeting, meet in the common room in five minutes.” She said.
Before Jericho could reply, the image winked out of existence and his ring returned to its normal state.
That’s going to take some time to get used to.
He hurried out the door desperately fighting the tumultuous storm of butterflies in his stomach. Somehow, he was the first to walk into the common room, and to his dismay the Admiral was standing at the center, hands clasped behind her back, chin lifted high.
She wore a jacket like his, though more vibrant in its design. Like Arthros, she exuded confident authority and cold indifference. She was the first female Hokkonian he had seen other than Randrea and was surprised to discover that they looked relatively similar. Though the Admiral’s skin was darker shade of grey, and her white eyes seemed to shift between pale white and storm grey. Her spines were hidden beneath a decorative hat that declared her status as an Admiral.
Her steely gaze studied him from beneath the brim of her hat, and he felt a shudder pass down his spine. To her, he was nothing, but a game piece and she would sacrifice him for the greater good without so much as a blink.
No words were spoken as Jericho stood at attention. He didn’t dare break the silence and was immensely grateful for the arrival of the others. Once everyone was present the Admiral wasted no time getting started.
“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, I bring news of your Commander, and an mission order.” She paused, and Jericho could have sworn she looked nervous, “Arthros went on a recon mission to the Reloculan surface, I received his report barely ten minutes ago.”
Jericho glanced at the others. He could tell by their body language that they were itching to demand more details but wouldn’t dare to interrupt the Admiral. One glance at Randrea shocked expression was enough to betray any claim of normalcy. Something was wrong.
“He confirmed the presence of a mounting invasion force, and the union’s involvement. Cyprus Atik was spotted once again on the surface, and Arthros tracked her to Kleth’altho. She’s there now with the leader of the Shadari.” She paused for moment, as if mustering the courage to keep speaking. “Your objective is to eliminate the Union woman and her Shadari companion.”
The pilots stared at her in shock. Even Jericho knew that such an order had to be breaking multiple laws and treaties. To kill a union representative seemed insane.
“You have a time limit,” The admiral continued, “twenty-seven hours to complete the mission and return to Hokku. Do not be late. Commander Arthros is currently floating in ungoverned space, somewhere in the pavlock-C1 sector between Reloculan and Kleth’altho. I’ll be linking specific instructions to your PET. Good luck pilots.”
Pet? Jericho glanced around but the others seemed unphased.
“Thank you, Admiral,” the other pilots said in unison.
With an elegant flourish of her wrist, her ring activated, and she tapped the air above her palm in rapid succession. Around the room everyone’s chimed, including Jericho’s. She didn’t wait for them to read the instructions and turned on her heel out of the room.
“This is insane,” Fydither muttered, reading the words display on his palm.
“That’s an understatement,” Sto'ram gurgled, “We’ll effectively be starting a war.”
Do you think the Sovereignty knows?” Scor asked.
“Of course they do! The Admiral wouldn’t be sending us if they didn’t.” Flux scoffed.
Fydither closed the image on his hand, and shot a challenging look at Flux, “Then why send us? This is too important for outcasts like us.”
“Because were the best.” Flux suggested.
Graito snorted, “We might be, but the Sovereignty doesn’t think that. Fydither is right, we’re being sent to take the blame once we do start a war. It’s a suicide run.”
Scor shook his head, “Admiral Zludikai wouldn’t do that.”
Graito just shrugged, and lifted his hands to say, are you sure about that?
“It doesn’t matter,” Randrea said suddenly.
The others fell silent when she spoke, instinctively freezing at her commanding tone. She took a second to look at each of them. When her gaze locked on Jericho’s, he felt his pulse quicken at the intensity in her eyes.
“Something isn’t right, but it doesn’t matter. Because Arthros is out there waiting for us.”
A few of the others murmured in agreement. Then Dight stamped his giant feet and rumbled something incoherent. Jericho strained his ears, hoping to catch an inflection in the growl, or any indication that the Aopriordian was actually speaking. To him it sounded like nonsense, but the others seemed to understand him, Fydither most of all.
The Ordanian flew and settled on Aopriordian’s back, “I’m with you, big guy. We’re not doing anything until we hear from Arthros first.”
He sent the order did he not?
“Then get your ass in your HWND and go see him,” Randrea barked, “That’s where we’re all going anyways.”
“Not me,” Graito said, reading his mission instructions floating in his palm, “I’m going straight to Kleth’altho, to scout for the targets. Strictly non-combative…” His eyes narrowed and then went wide. He stared at his palm in shock and then anger, “No, no, no!”
Uh oh, this can’t be good.
“What is it?” Fydither asked.
Graito clenched his fist to close the holographic image and veins popped in his arm. For a moment he stood in rigid, angry, silence. His yellow eyes staring daggers at Jericho.
“Graito?” Fydither carefully asked.
The Myrd let out strangled howl of rage and stormed out of the common room. The door slid calmly shut behind him, leaving the entire group in shocked silence.
Please do not tell me…
Jericho twisted his wrist, opened his palm, and his mission instructions materialized in front of him.
“What was that about?” Randrea murmured.
No, no, no!
“Jericho Hound, Pilot of the eighth Division. Mission objective: Infiltrate Kleth’altho space undetected. Locate targets Cyprus Atik: Human Union Representative and Shadari invader. Due to lack of training, HWND and transportation, you will travel with Graito, Synaptic Rank: Eight – HWND Pilot of the eighth division. Good luck pilot.”
Jericho read the words to the group out loud. The common room was silent, and then Fydither laughed.
Graito is going to kill me.
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