There was a brief and terrifying moment where Besca thought there might be war on the Aerie. Her stunt that morning had been bold, but ultimately toothless. The soldiery onboard hadn’t taken kindly to one of their own being fired for “doing his job”, and in his defense that was mostly true. Her inbox was inundated with complaints, criticisms, and demands for her resignation; in the end it hadn’t mattered. He’d been rehired by dinner, and the emails had stopped.
As commander there were only a handful of people she couldn’t touch. One was Follen—a fact that would never cease to frustrate her—and another was Bren Caster, chief of security operations, and liaison between RISC and Runa’s military. No soldiers got in, or out of RISC without his say so, and when word had gotten to him about one of his men getting the can, his say was: “No.”
His predecessor had gone the way of her own after Hovvi, and they’d risen to their leadership roles together. She’d been vaguely aware of him beforehand, and thus far their working relationship had been relegated to CC-chains and occasionally seeing one another in the hangar or at the bar in Dane’s. He’d asked her there the next day, where they sat in the corner and, over a beer, he told her in no uncertain terms that if she tried to go over his head to fire one of his own again, he’d come after her job with the support of RISC’s entire military personnel. She agreed, and told him that next time someone tried to take Roaki back to holding, she’d just break their hand instead.
Another empty threat; Besca was still powerless to refuse a direct order from the Board. But the Board wasn’t here, and while Caster might have been in charge of RISC’s military personnel, there were plenty of soldiers who still knew her, and trusted her, and he would never have their full, undivided support. He didn’t strike Besca as a vile man. He enjoyed power, but not necessarily lording it over others. If he wanted a coup, he could have it, but that side of him that preferred reason to feeling must have known that a mess was the last thing RISC needed right now.
So a tenuous deal was struck. As it stood, the Board still had not decided who was getting Roaki, and orders aside, Caster admitted he had no desire to put a child in an icebox. She could stay in the ward for now, but when the decision did come, Besca had to swear that she would stand aside.
That left her with a nebulous and dwindling amount of time to put together a plan. Otherwise she imagined she would end up seeing how uncomfortable holding was for herself.
Quinn had put her on to something—or rather, Follen had put Quinn on to something, which was immediately alarming. That was: turning Roaki on Helburke as an informant. They’d granted a similar status to Ghaust when he’d defected, and it had offered him all the rights and protections of a Runan citizen—so long as he continued to aide RISC.
The difference was that Ghaust had wanted to join them. Besca wasn’t even convinced Roaki wanted to live. Quinn was, though. So the planning continued; what could they do to convince the girl she didn’t have to go meekly to her grave? The answer hadn’t come to anyone yet, and though Quinn had resolved to visit Roaki each day, Besca was forced to turn her attentions elsewhere.
The interview was coming. She’d been surprised it had taken so long for the Board to approve Quinn’s first appearance, but then, when she thought it about it made enough sense. The duel in Casoban might have been over some inconsequential territorial dispute, but it would not phase out of the public conscience in a mere few days. No, this breather had been necessary. The Board had wanted time to measure the world’s—and especially, Runa’s—opinion on what Quinn had done. Likely, they’d waited to find the right host.
“Dinner With Mona” had been the final call. Not a news channel, but a celebrity talk show. It was a smart choice; Runa National or Pastel News would have had hundreds of people drafting hardball, invasive questions to throw at her the instant she sat down, trying to get at the heart of RISC’s operations through her. It would have been…harsh, and difficult to watch. Mona was a one-woman operation, so to speak. She had a team, but by reputation she handled most of the legwork herself when it came to actually preparing for an interview. She was also avidly interested in the piloting world and so, Besca hoped, she’d be more likely to go easy on Quinn.
That was tonight. As soon as she found out, she shot Quinn a text to let her know. Not a lot of time to prepare, but she made sure to emphasize that it would be fine, and that she would be right there in the studio watching just off camera. Deelie would have to stay onboard—Besca was beginning to doubt the Board would ever let her be more than five minutes from Dragon’s cockpit ever again. Besca hated that, but with what had happened at Casoban, she understood why they were afraid.
Two singularities had formed out of nowhere. An immediate and furious terror had nearly pushed a national emergency to the public, until it was noted that the two singularities that had opened nearby the dueling grounds had never produced a single creature. That, and the fact that nothing had opened up in Runa since then had quelled the fears—somewhat. Perhaps the Modir couldn’t spontaneously open singularities, but even if they could only move them, which seemed to be the prevailing theory, that was hardly any more of a comfort.
And all of this was still leagues away from the fact that the Modir had spoken. Besca still couldn’t wrap her head around that. She’d heard it, and she still couldn’t. It was still a closed secret; there were no recordings of the logs after the duel had ended—that hadn’t been her doing either, they’d just been wiped. Still, Research’s attention lingered on the swordsman. It had appeared twice now, and while no one had yet made the connection to Quinn, Besca worried it was only a matter of time.
She was worrying a lot these days, and sleeping less. Last night she’d returned to the dorms at two in the morning, and left for the office again at five. It was noon now, six hours ‘til the interview and there were still a thousand things to do before then. Sighing, Besca brewed another pot of coffee, lit another cigarette, and sat down at her desk. Any minute now Toussaint would be calling, or the Helburkan Ambassador, or the Board to tell her they were fed up with her now, and it was time for her to pack her shit and go. A small part of her hoped that call would come. She was ready, she thought.
But she wasn’t, really. And part of her knew that as long as Deelie and Quinn were around, she never would be.
The simulation fizzled and the world went dark before it exploded back to light. Dahlia disconnected her neural plugs and sat up in the pod-like seat, blinking the dizziness away. Sims weren’t meant to be as disorienting as a real cockpit, but they always left her just a little bit nauseous. It passed quickly though, and she swung her legs over the side as Quinn rose up in the seat next to her.
“Sorry,” she said, giggling nervously. “That probably wasn’t super helpful, was it?”
This session had gone like all the others. Either she blew Quinn away the moment she phased, or she turned phasing off, and let herself be absolutely steamrolled by Ablaze’s superior strength. Dragon was many things, but it was not a brawler, usually. If she tried she could throw a few good punches, bob and weave like a boxer, but as had been demonstrated to her back in Casoban, she was much better off at a distance.
Neither scenario made for particularly good practice. She was glad they muted pain receptors in their bouts—neither of them was particularly interested in hurting the other, even if it wasn’t really hurting them.
“We could try again after lunch if you want? Maybe a run without weapons, or we could just do some target practice or something. Or do you wanna focus on the interview tonight? Oh! We could make up some questions while we eat? Get you in the mood for it, y’know? I still remember some of the things I got asked the first time!”
Lemons
Master EffeX
Alby47
Obscene Symphony
Asura
Nallore
Kuro
Abstract Proxy
Stern Algorithm
