Hekate's Call, Chapter 45

Errant HQ was a windowless warren of offices and checkpoints and little rest areas. In the green area there was even food courts and little restaurants and a small shopping arcade. Holosky projections in the high-ceiling areas and the faux-architecture reaching towards it to help sell the illusion gave Krystyn a distinct casino vibe to the whole deal. The pilots had been given access to the yellow areas, and limited accompanied-only access to the red areas of the base. The rest of the Hekate staff was limited to the green area. At least they could stretch their legs a bit.

Krystyn had pocketed several passes, printed ID cards with their likenesses lifted from their pilot licenses, to give to Ilina and Symeon. Splitting the group the way she did was stupid because it left her isolated moving around the station, but Manya had to stay with Velia. Manya was more likely to get harassed if she moved around on her own, but was more than capable of keeping people away from the visible cripple. And Symeon couldn’t act on her own. It was stupid but it was her only choice.

Crater and Manning vanished into the fucking ether. Those brats vanished by the time Ilina had been dragged off. Blind corners everywhere. And she’d already gotten lost once and was backtracking to a central yellow zone hall where she could regain her bearings. This whole things was a security nightmare for Field Commander Krystyn Zechs, a title that felt exceptionally dumb when printed on a badge she had to keep visible for all the cameras.

Field Commander. She didn’t do a lot of commanding to begin with, and even less since Velia took over as Control. She found out by complete accident that Velia was actually licensed to pilot a skimmer-repeater frame. Imagine Control having direct access to battlefield conditions with long-range comms that didn’t require a planetary comm hook and whatever authorizations or subscriptions needed to connect to them. The awful bitch could be even more exacting in her instructions and even more annoying about the ways that you failed to follow them if she wanted to be.

She scratched at her neck even harder than she had been before she got lost, as if she could carve out her separation anxiety with her fingernails. Ilina was smart enough to put things together, right? She wasn’t going to be too mad at her? Krystyn would apologize when she got there anyways.

Everything went to shit like it always did.

Ilina just had to keep her stupid mouth shut. Don’t say anything you didn’t need to. Don’t raise a big flag announcing you were a degenerate queer to everyone and we could all just make it through this in one piece. No. Nothing could stop Ilina from being Ilina. If she could stop herself from acting out she’d get beat a lot less. She’d also be a fair bit less endearing.

Krystyn had walked too far again. If she had a slate she could sync it to the station’s network and get a handy guide from here all the way back to the Gestalt. Who carried one of those things around though? Velia, probably.

“Oh, she’s lost?”

“Looks agitated.”

“If I had to babysit something like that, I’d be agitated too.”

The trio of voices came from the end of the hall Krystyn was about to have to head back down. No way around them. She sighed and put on her best soldier face and began towards them.

“Don’t believe I caught any of your names earlier,” Krystyn said, mostly polite.

“Marionette.” Brunette in center-front, obviously the leader of their little gang. She wasn’t the oldest, but Krystyn guessed she was the one who’d been working for Manning the longest.

“Ragdoll.” Redhead girl. Visibly the youngest, probably right out of mandatory service where she served as a pilot from start to finish. Career pilots weren’t built like Krystyn or Vigil, they were built like this scrawny thing.

“Toybox.” Taller than the others with more muscle and fat on her. Deeper voice with some piercings. Made Krystyn wonder what direction Vigil would head if she was exposed to Domon dyke bars. Not that anyone would make that kind of accusation of Toybox to her face.

Krystyn put out a hand to stop them. “I asked for names.”

“Yeah,” Marionette responded flatly. “You got ‘em. Hey, so what’d you do with that queer y’all had around earlier.” Fluctuating accent, probably from an edge world with lots of trade traffic and immigrants. Wouldn’t be surprised if she spoke another language.

“Gotta be more specific Mary,” Toybox jumped in and took a step forward beside Marionette. Ragdoll stepped to the other side to complete the wall to keep Krystyn from passing. “Didn’t you say Carie was a tranny?”

“He only went for girls back home,” Marionette laughed. “So, he doesn’t count. I heard he cleaned out his parents accounts and skipped off world right before mandatory service.” She directed that at Krystyn like it was some kind of question. “Does he still have, y’know?” She made a rude gesture indicating a cock. “Or did he like, cut it off?”

They’re just trying to find an opening. Aside from the big girl, none of them could take Krystyn. Toybox didn’t have an infantry build, even if she was strong. A gymrat’s aimless strength. Krystyn still had an advantage there. Giving them ammo on Ilina might be fine since she already drew a big target on herself. Just so long as long as she can make sure Ilina doesn’t get caught alone like this. But she wasn’t about to offer up anyone she didn’t have to.

“Wouldn’t know,” Krystyn said flatly. “I’m just trying to get back to green, and I don’t have time for this.”

“Even still,” Marionette boxed in Krystyn when she tried to push past. “What about that boy you all brought along? Our commander hasn’t given us a new plaything in ages. If we’re all going to be friends, why not lend us yours?”

Don’t swing. Krystyn had to keep herself from asserting herself the way a normal Domon soldier would and laying this girl flat on her back and beating her into a more accommodating shape. That’s what they wanted though, to justify whatever it was that came after. There were cameras, they couldn’t be the first to swing. If they got Krystyn into a room without one they could make up whatever story they wanted.

Stay in the open. Don’t give them what they want.

“Does it get cold in those little shorts of yours?”

Krystyn’s eyes snapped up over the trio to see Crater standing with her hands behind her back, glancing down at each one in turn and tilting her head with that cracked-ice smile of hers. It sent a shiver down Krystyn’s spine. How many times had she found herself in their position?

Before they could scurry away Crater had Mary by the face with a gloved hand. She did that thing every officer Krystyn had ever met did when they wanted to expose a weak link. Crater ran her thumb slowly across the girl’s lip while maintaining eye contact with her. Krystyn watched the girl twitch and grab at her own clothes involuntarily. If Marionette was new to a unit, she’d become everyone’s brand new fixation for a while, just for that. A little touch was all it took to make you squirm and blush? Disgusting little queer.

It didn’t matter how you reacted, really. Krystyn learned that the hard way when an officer beat her for slapping that hand away, knowing if she did anything more to defend herself it would be assault of a superior officer.

Breathe in. Hold. Exhale. Krystyn tried to keep it all quiet.

“Oh, you’re quite the young one,” she hummed. “Was Mary your name before Beatrice picked you up?” She left a pause long enough for someone to answer but all the girl could manage was a pitched whine. Crater leaned in to whisper directly into the girl’s ear while she was still stunned. “I bet it wasn’t. You look like one of her rescues.”

The other two girls were paralyzed the same way Krystyn was by Crater’s actions and appearance. Backs straight, controlled breathing, standing as still as possible as if Domon officers could only see movement. The thing they always seemed to forget was that officers could smell fear too.

“Does she still make her girls call her mom?” Crater let out a laugh that echoed in the hallway around them before any of the girls could answer. “That’s a joke, dear. You don’t have to answer. I know she does.”

Elisabet leaned forward, looming over the poor girl whose knees were visibly shaking the longer the office spoke. “More seriously, I’ve always wondered this but it’s improper to ask, so forgive my curiosity. Does she touch any of you girls, or does she only indulge herself when she’s about to get rid of one?”

Marionette dropped like her strings had been cut the moment Elisabet let go of the poor thing’s chin. It sat there in a heap on the ground, waiting to either be kicked or told to leave. Like a good soldier. Elisabet let everyone suffer in that anticipatory silence longer than she needed to.

“Is she okay? Is she anemic?” The officer turned to one of the other soldiers with one question, and then to the other with the next. “Perhaps she needs to visit the infirmary. Beatrice cannot be fielding waifs like this, can she?”

“Sir.”

The two children scrambled to pick up Mary and drag her off with a familiar shock in their eyes. Maybe it was the same in Krystyn’s eyes in that moment, as she was still trying to regulate her breathing and come down off the edge of another attack.

“They didn’t even answer my questions!” Elisabet Crater preened in the way that only a cruel woman who’d just bullied several children could. Exceedingly proud of such a petty act. It was a victory to her. The only thing that really mattered.

“Errant staff have been dropping like flies around here,” she flashed that conspiratorial smile at Krystyn. How it worked to calm her, Krystyn couldn’t quite place it, but it did. “What a skittish outfit Manning is running here. You’re okay, though, Charlotte?”

Krystyn nodded and tried to force herself to release the tension building throughout her body. The realization hit several moments later when she started to follow Elisabet, one pace behind as she always did. “Is that why you wear the uniform?”

“Among other reasons,” she admitted too easily. A bit too familiar and candidly, she added, “And after some fifteen years, I don’t have the slightest idea how to dress myself, you know? Enough about me, we need to talk about Falke.”

-  -  -

Ilina curled up in the blanket and cradled her pistol in her lap as the hours passed. Morian only gave her injuries a passing glance and sent her away — nothing cracked or broken, nothing you aren’t used to, she said. While it was true, Ilina really wanted more of Morian’s time and attention. The doctor had been wandering around the ship, spending time away from her room and the medbay for extended periods and Ilina hadn’t been able to keep track of her for weeks.

Morian wouldn’t answer the only question that Ilina was trying desperately to ask her. What was she supposed to do when her contract was done with? Where was Morian planning on going next?

I’ll only be gone for a few days at most.

Where are you going?

I’m going to go talk some sense into her and bring her home.

I don’t want her to come home.

You deserve to see her at her best.

I’ve seen enough of her. I’m glad she’s gone. I hope I never see her again.

She is my wife! I’m not letting her leave without a proper explanation. This is not a discussion.

Ilina’s sobs were interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door sliding open. She grabbed the pistol on instinct, and her grip tightened when she saw Krystyn walk in. Without a word Krystyn tossed a badge over to Ilina with her pilot license photo plastered on it before just standing there silently.

“Going to apologize?”

Krystyn shrugged. “Nothing to apologize for. How many times did I warn you not to act like that?”

Yeah. She’d always been given so many warnings, so it was always her fault when she got hit. Just be quiet and do what you’re told. Keep your head down and do what you’re told. Just do what you’re told. Ilina thought she had gotten pretty good at doing what she was told, but apparently not.

“We need to talk,” Krystyn’s voice got all soft and mushy as she sat on the edge of the bed. Bet she was about to say something stupid again. “Liz told me whats going to happen.”

Vague. Didn’t matter. If it came from Crater, it was probably Morian’s doing. “So, what do I have to do?”

The woman grumbled and scratched at her neck some more. “You don’t have to do anything. Liz told me everything. Way too much. More than I need to know.”

“Because she wants you to tell me. Get on with it.”

Krystyn started fidgeting restlessly, taking deep breathes. “I don’t want to. Let Liz close out your contract tomorrow, don’t sign anything new she puts in front of you, and leave.”

Ilina gripped the pistol under the blanket, thumbing at the safety. “Did Crater tell you where Morian was going?”

“You know,” Krystyn started laughing nervously and scratching at her throat even harder than she had before. “I came here to apologize and make a bunch of stupid promises. But Morian’s right about you. You’ll make whatever decision you’re going to make and nothing in the universe is going to change your mind. Please don’t sign anything that Crater puts in front of you tomorrow.”

“You should still apologize.”

Krystyn turned suddenly and stared at the heap of blankets Ilina had buried herself in. “How can I apologize if I’d do the same thing every time you put me in that situation?”

They sat quietly for a bit and Ilina had a passing thought, like so many other thoughts, of shooting Krystyn. It wouldn’t accomplish anything. Ilina could also justify using the collar for correctional behavior, but there was somewhere between that and putting a real bullet in her that crossed the line for her.

Morian won’t abide a broken promise. Ilina promised to protect Krystyn. She couldn’t hurt her like that, especially if Morian wasn’t going to fix people she shot. The doctor always patched up the mechanics back at Carrion when Ilina put knives in them. What changed?

“Hey,” Krystyn pulled the stupid collar out of her jacket. She had it with her the whole time? “Can you—“

“No.”

“I can put it on myself.”

“That’s against the rules.”

“And I’ll take the punishment if that’s what you want, you little shit.” Krystyn dropped to her side, holding it out towards her. “I’ve gotten really used to having it on. But, more importantly I want to know where you are.”

“Creep.”

“Those little dweebs already came asking about you. I need to know where you are.”

Despite her little provocations, Krystyn remained resolute. It was an annoying trait of hers. Couldn’t lighten up even a little? Ilina was too careful to get caught out in enemy territory. She was taught better than that. And if she did get caught, she would find her own way out.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Are you going to put it on me or not?”

Ilina pulled off the blanket and put her pistol to the side. “Strip.”

“No.”

Ilina felt her disdain for the stupid fucking mutt start to boil. In the home stretch Symeon Vigil managed to screw her plans entirely and irreparably. No plan survived contact with the Hound. She was so close too.

“Do whatever you want then. I’ll go sleep in the medbay,” she grinned to herself as she dragged her pants back on. “My ribs still hurt, maybe there was a fracture. Morian should take another look, just to be sure.”

-  -  -

Elisabet Crater’s office was thick with the scent of Morian’s cigarettes and a little red light indicated that one of the two air scrubbers embedded in the ceiling needed another filter change. Ilina was still nursing her sores from yesterday’s beating and her poor decision to try to sleep on one of the medbay beds instead of the little couch. Crater was… being herself for lack of a better word.

The woman wasn’t wearing the uniform she’d been wearing so frequently till now, but instead the less dressy kind that you wore for messy field work. That was probably for the best, considering Ilina’s recent behavior. Little risk of Ilina mistaking her for Irene.

The two of them were working through months of paperwork that should have been handled in advance but hadn’t been due to Crater’s burnout. Reports that needed information to be transplanted from the various monitoring sources to back up Ilina’s written reports — Velia had at least been making all the pilots file those properly.

It was a dreary march that left the two little to say to each other.

“What were you talking to Morian about?”

“Focus, Falke. We’re almost finished.” Crater sounded so weary. There was an aura of smug confidence that clung to her the way smoke clung to the doctor. Even in this state it wouldn’t quite come out.

“I finished my half.”

“Ah, so you have. Then don’t distract me. I’m almost finished.”

Finally, after two and something hours of combined effort, Crater put down her pen and stacked up the paperwork. The officer opened a drawer and shifted a half-empty bottle of some kind of alcohol out of the way enough to fish out two folders. One was thick with legalese, it was the contract document that Ilina had signed a year ago. The exceptionally fair contract.

“Before we close this out,” Elisabet cleared her throat. “Is there any chance you’d share a drink with me? I’d like to talk about some things.”

“Morian says I can’t have alcohol.”

A funny tilt of the head, the same as how Morian did only without the dramatic full-body lean to accompany it. “Your medical reports only state that you metabolize it quickly. I’m sure you can handle a glass if you drink slowly.”

“I don’t want a drink,” Ilina corrected herself.

Crater nodded. “I take it that Krystyn didn’t share the details of our conversation yesterday.”

Krystyn had not. Instead she’d told Ilina to leave and never look back.

“Where is Morian going after her contract is finished?”

“Finished? What do you mean?”

Ilina’s heart dropped in her chest. She raised her head to search Irene’s face for clues but was only met with that awful smile that she would never see on her mother’s face. No. The only person with a visage like that was Elisabet Crater.

“Doesn’t Morian’s contract end at the end of this job?”

Crater leaned back in her chair and hummed. “Where did you hear that from?”

Shit. The two of them had discussed Morian’s contract before, a year ago. They only talked about Velia’s medical care. Fuck. Ilina had assumed they were both signed for a temporary position, but she couldn’t remember that being said by anyone.

“Morian Kyrnn is a full employee of Hekate’s Call. There was that little issue with her paperwork once we’d gotten off-world, but we were able to resolve that quite quickly at the time, if you recall.”

Crater’s voice was laden with Morian’s cadence. Explaining things piece by piece to make it all make sense to an idiot child like her. Calm and precise. Pauses for emphasis. Like she’d rehearsed it.

“As the doctor’s employer, we could vouch for her as her employer to expedite the process. We weren’t able to do the same for Velia, which was why her paperwork caused us such a delay.”

She could practically hear Irene’s voice in her ear. Inferred intelligence must be confirmed before it could be acted on. You need to reevaluate your assumptions more frequently, and confirm them before committing. How many times had her mothers cornered her into decisions and obligations by guiding her inferences? So focused on the details that she never took a step back to assess her position.

“What are you planning to do after your contract ends?” Crater asked in earnest. Just the next line in her script.

And Ilina was stupid and gullible and would fall for whatever trick she had planned.

“Is Morian staying on?”

“Not concerned about your girlfriend? Or is Velia your ex now?” Crater let out a strained laugh. “I used to be able to keep track of everyone’s habits and social lives! I’m too old and tired for it now. I don’t know how Morian can keep at it.”

“Morian.”

“I’m not sure what will happen to anyone after the valuation, Falke. I’ve know Morian longer than you’ve been alive, but I haven’t the slightest idea what she’s planning to do come tomorrow.”

One word jumped out at her. A valuation. To weigh against Hekate’s sizable debt. They would measure the company’s potential earnings by way of their pilots and assets. It was a common enough process. Morian had Ilina valuated many times when she worked at Carrion, though the Fiends did most of the work and carried most of the company’s value.

Despite that, Ilina wasn’t hurting for assets as a pilot. She was licensed for five different milspec frames, and she was the direct owner of both Again in Hell and the Parting Word. She was borderless, with no ties to any military and a cleaner record than any other mercenary with her skills or record. She was one of the most employable independents you could chance across.

The second folder under her contract would be a letter of intent. A job offer. So that Ilina could take part in the valuation process.

What did that have to do with Velia?

“What did you do?” Ilina hissed across the desk.

That cracked-ice smile returned. “You really are such a clever girl, aren’t you? Seventy-thirty.”

The words rolled in hear head once or twice before falling into place. They split Hekate’s debt seventy-thirty between them. If the company fails the valuation, they’re taken for everything they’re worth and more. If the company passes?

What would the profit split look like for the two of them?

Seventy-thirty.

“What happens if I walk like Krystyn told me to?”

Crater sat in stunned silence, all the mirth dropped from her voice at once. “She told you to leave? Really?” She nodded to herself, and ignored Ilina when she repeated herself. “I know I handed her the gun, I just never expected she would actually turn on me here. If you walk, Velia Lore and I will be taken for what we’re worth and then executed. Debtors laws went under a huge reform during the empire’s last little revolution to put an end to slave colonies and the like. Huge step forward,” she explained as if Ilina gave a shit. “Every fifty years or so the empire lurches forwards several steps all at once like that. I personally would like the next one will include military reforms, though I’m not holding out hope.”

“Just the two of you get the axe?”

“Humane, isn’t it?” Crater’s bleak expression betrayed something. “Just the stakeholders. I reclaimed all the shares from everyone, and Velia and I made a bet that we’d make it through this valuation.”

But it was just those two. Morian would walk away and Ilina could follow her wherever she went next. Krystyn would make it out, and Ilina would have fulfilled her promise by protecting her. There wasn’t a shred of loyalty left in her for Velia.

“I think they do lethal injections,” Crater muttered quietly. The woman should have been an actor the way she delivered her soliloquy. “Notoriously inconsistent. I’m worried Velia’s augmentations might make that into an ordeal.”

She didn’t care about Velia.

“Bullets are cheap, but nobody wants to be the one to pull the trigger in such a personal environment.”

She didn’t care about Velia.

“Hangings have been consistent, but they’re so gruesome when they go wrong. I should tell her that she should request the firing squad if it comes to it. I think I’ll stick to the injection though.”

The ball of disgusting, desperate, possessive feelings clawed at her insides. Velia wasn’t a hostage. She volunteered. Because she knew that Ilina would come back to her when called. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry, I got sidetracked,” Crater made a show of coming to her senses as if she hadn’t just vivisected Ilina with such precision. “Are you okay, Ilina? You look pale.”

“I’ll sign the offer,” Ilina choked through tears.

She was always going to sign the offer. What was she going to do if she didn’t? Just go back home to fucking-nowhere and live out the rest of her life participating in planetary autocannibalism? There was nothing there worth going back to. Maybe those two pilots on that other cannibalized husk needed a hand — if they were still alive. Ilina still had to return Belle’s underwear. But without Velia? Without Morian?

“Oh,” Crater composed herself and adjusted her collar. “I guess we can skip all the preamble then. Only a few signatures, not much to read through. It’s a formality, really.”

Ilina’s hand picked up a pen and shakily signed at every little ‘x’ that Crater motioned to. Doing just as she was told. Its what everyone wanted from her, after all.