Fawkes knew something was wrong before he opened his eyes. He feigned sleep, feeling the cold floor below him, and the strange stench surrounding him. It smelled of Raumens and synthetics.
Flames.
There was no answer from his neural hail. They had undoubtedly inhibited his interface, and jammed the transmissions.
He moved slightly, noticing the restraints around each of his limbs. They felt like composite. They might be chewable.
Opening his eyes to slits, he made out two figures by an exit, both figures armed. Through his other eye, he saw what looked like a scientist, wearing a white gown, typing away at a very ancient computer terminal.
“How do you feel?” the scientist asked without turning around.
Fawkes didn’t say anything, but his breathing quickened, each inhalation a wheezing snarl as his adrenaline kicked in.
The scientist continued working by his terminal, ignoring his snarling.
“Release me!” Fawkes demanded.
“You look better. You were pretty out of it yesterday.”
What happened yesterday? Fawkes tugged at the chains. “Where is Nyx?”
“The Blackwing is fine.” the scientist said. “Well now she is…”
“Why now? What did you do?” Fawkes asked.
“Just a standard analysis of both of you.” the scientist replied.
“Analysis?”
“The scarring should heal over time. Soon you’ll barely notice.”
Fawkes looked down at his body, seeing a scar that extended from the base of his tail all the way across his stomach to his chest.
“What did you do?” Fawkes snarled.
“Just had to check all of you for trace elements.” he said.
“Trace elements?”
“You know the Blackwing’s offspring is a Queen, right?”
“Our offspring!” Fawkes roared, but then remembered there had always been a chance it was Dhrom’s. They had all been her concubine…
“Nope… I don’t think so.” The scientist confirmed his assumptions, and explained that Dhrom was carrying recessives for this ‘Queen’ strand they were looking for.
Fawkes knew of the Queens, Vorchans capable of manipulating the koveran field, like Beems. He had considered them myths until one had saved Red from Martock.
“This is a misunderstanding. Red was touched by a Queen long ago. But she is long gone. Red is not a Queen.”
“Oh but she is. It was how she broke through that composite with her flamestrike!” the scientist said, turning around. His face was horribly burnt. “It was a koveran-laced flamestrike!”
Fawkes recognized the man: One of Ignatio’s assistants.
“Do you like what you did to me?” The scientist asked.
“So you were following us!” Fawkes gnarled.
“But don’t worry. There will be justice. After Ignatio’s done with you.” the scientist said, stifling a maniacal cackle.
Fawkes could kill all of them with his flamestrike, but realized there might be a failsafe for if he attempted such a thing. Some sort of killswitch… he had been strapped to a table like this before.
He kept those thoughts at bay, trying to learn the schematics of this table, find its weaknesses.
“What’s to keep me from incinerating all of you?” Or he could just ask.
The scientist held up a bracelet, “Everyone on this facility has one, a death-bracelet. If any of us is killed, your girl is killed instantly.”
“You need her. She’s a Queen.”
“We only need her genetic data, which we can retrieve in many ways.”
“Why?”
“To see how you did it. How you harnessed koveran energy.”
“A type-3 link.” Fawkes explained. Any Captain with a type-3 link, a link which was formed between ship and Captain at birth, had a chance of altering the genetic data of the Captain enough to allow him the control of koveran particles. But everyone knew this. It wasn’t some secret.
“That is nothing compared to the power we witnessed at that facility!” the scientist bellowed.
A holoview of Red appeared. She was staring at them with petrified eyes, restrained.
“Daddy!” she cried.
“Red!” Fawkes roared, chewing through one of his restraints.
Electricity coursed through him, making him cry out in pain. He shuddered for half a minute, unable to move, panting heavily.
He began to chew at the other restraint, only to get electrocuted again. “Stop it Daddy!”
Fawkes howled as loud as he could, ripping against the two remaining restraints, only to be engulfed in a world of darkness.
–
“Did you kill him?” Red asked.
“Yes.” Loran lied.
Red began to wail uncontrollably.
“I can bring him back.”
“Please!” Red pleaded, “I’ll do anything.”
Loran smiled, “We know.”
–
Fawkes awoke as if from a nightmare, only to see himself restrained, the two he had bitten through replaced by a more reinforced composite. The ones around his legs were still of the older composite, but there was no way for him to break through them now, his neck simply wasn’t long enough.
“I will destroy all of you!” Fawkes threatened, biting at the reinforced composite. They chipped away at his teeth as he bit, cutting into his gums. His snout was saturated in blood by the time he gave up on trying to bite through the new restraints. There was nothing he could do. He finally relaxed, trying to take deep breaths.
“Don’t worry, Fawkes. It’ll be over for you soon. Red is being very compliant.”
“If you harmed her, in any way, all of your lives are forfeit.”
“Well then I’m grateful you’re there – and I’m here.” the scientist said, giving him a half-second shock.
Fawkes cried out in surprise, not having expected that one. All of his muscles were sore. He felt like he’d run across the Augustus planes in a fortnight. “I’ll kill you.” Fawkes moaned.
“Oh you could, but it would cost the life of your daughter.” the scientist said. “Oh I’m sorry, your step-daughter!”
Fawkes shot a flame-strike at the work bench. It had several wires running from it to the table.
The strike was ineffective, simply making the bench glow red.
“That was hot. Good thing everything here is fireproof!” the scientist mocked, going back to his terminal.
“Tell me what you did to her.”
“Just some…” the scientist seemed afraid to say it.
“What. Did. You. Do.”
“Well, she is mature enough to produce a clutch of eggs every cycle, but since she’s still very small, they never actually get past the initial phase of development.”
Fawkes turned a dark red, snorting flame.
“So we had to extract them and accelerate the process. Once we have a decent sample, we could start splicing the eggs with other, pre-inhibited zygotes.”
Pre-inhibition. It was what Flames was supposed to be. It was why Fawkes had been exiled from the Vorchan Empire. They lobotomized Beems before they were born. Flames’ sentience had been an accident. They wanted to take it away. Fawkes couldn’t allow that to happen.
“You want to create a koveran weapon.” Fawkes said.
“Exactly. One we can use against our enemies.”
“And what will happen to us?” Fawkes asked.
“Well, nobody could know of this, naturally. Once we have no need of the three of you then we will obviously have to discard you. But you assumed that much, didn’t you?”
Fawkes closed his eyes, reaching out to Flames. “My ship, where is it.”
“In our hangar, safe. Our scientists are already attempting to sever the neural plexus’ upper brain functions.”
“Unlikely.” Fawkes scoffed, “Flames will kill anyone who enters him.”
“And how do you think we captured you?” the scientist asked.
“If you lobotomize Flames, I will see to it that your entire operation is destroyed.” Fawkes said.
“And how will you do that?” the scientist asked.
“You think I don’t have friends? You think people won’t come looking for me? I give you this one chance at life: Release me and my family.”
The scientist laughed in his maniacal way, yelping “Never!” he shocked Fawkes again.
–
Hannah awoke to shrill static in her datavisor. ‘Wake up.’ was flashing across her screen.
“What is this?” she asked.
‘Hide.’ began to flash.
The door was screeching. Something was trying to come through. ‘Hide’ continued flashing on her visor. “Who is that?”
‘Messaging you or at the door?’ flashed the datavisor. It took her a moment to read. ‘Why aren’t you hiding yet?!?!?!?!’ the question marks and exclamation marks filled the screen.
“Flames?”
‘Hide already. We are being invaded.’.
“Invaded?” she looked around, “There aren’t many places to hide in this room.”
There was a click above her.
‘Maintenance port? Don’t mind the dust. I tried to clean it but the drones always get smoggy, and then you have to worry about reception and sensors and it just gets complicated. And even with all that, there’s the consideration that you could be—‘ Hannah stopped reading her datavisor and focused ahead, pushing the maintenance port aside.
“I can’t reach it.” she said. The datavisor flashed blank, gave the beginnings of what seemed to be a warning, and then highlighted a chair. “Did you just hack it?”
‘The visor just noticed late.’ Flames wrote, making the chair flash red.
Hannah grabbed it and put it on the bed. It wobbled precariously. “This is a horrible idea.”
She got on the chair, realizing it was eerily stable. It began to rise to the roof. She hopped into the maintenance shaft.
‘Isolated gravimetric field. I figured I would use it on the chair rather than you in case I screwed up and disintegrated something. They can be a pain to control, you know this one time—‘
“Where do I go?”
Ovals were projected, Hannah followed them. ‘Do you like guns?’
“Despise them.”
‘Can you use guns?’
“Of course! What self-respecting woman can’t use guns?” she replied.
‘Armoury below you!’ Flames flashed the message in omnicolor.
“You want me to fight?” Hannah asked uneasily.
‘Neural plexus compromised.’
“I can’t attack an entire group.”
‘Internal Security Turret manual control is in the armoury.’
“How do I control them?”
‘Hurry.” the message was a dark red, and faded.
“Fine, fine.” Hannah opened the maintenance hatch. It was quite a drop down. “I can’t—“
One of the crates rose up to her. She hopped on and rode it to the armoury floor. The IST controls were illuminated. She followed Flames’ prompts and activated the system.
–
“Fawkes!” cried the scientist. “Fawkes wake up.” A jolt forced him up. The scientist loomed over him, sweating. “Your ship is fighting back! Seven deaths!”
Fawkes roared at him, the heat forcing the scientist to rear back. The frail man howled and punched Fawkes’ in the chest. Crack. He began howling in pain.
“Smart.” Fawkes mocked.
“I’ll kill her! I will! Seven deaths!” he yowled, clutching his broken hand and leaving the room.
Fawkes took a deep breath, trying to gain his bearings. His entire body was sore. He flexed his wings, trying to grant them some freedom with all that weight pressing down.
The room was the same as it had been before. The two guards were there as well. He noticed they weren’t wearing any collars. This was the prime opportunity to escape. He had to get to Nyx and Red.
But he wasn’t sure how… he stared at the locks on his legs. Minutes must have passed, his hope began to fade. There was no way to chew through the restrains around his forelegs, his sore teeth attesting to that.
Click. The lock he had been staring at loosened. He moved his foot slightly. It was open! How did that happen? Click. The second lock around his legs gave way. He glanced at the guards, they didn’t seem to notice. Click. One of the death collars cracked loose, the guard was looking at it quizzically. Fawkes took a deep breath, readying the flame in his throat, enraging it. Click.
The guard looked at the other guard, and then at his collar. “Shit, I think—“ A stream of fire bellowed out, incinerating the guards and shattering the glass on the cupboards by the door. Chemicals bubbled from containers and canisters, alarms activated.
He was free, somehow.
The door cracked off its hinges, leaving an imprint on the wall of the corridor it led to. How had those restraints unlocked. All he had done was look at them. He didn’t understand.
People, they caught him mid-thought, forcing him to run. Where – he wasn’t sure.
There were screams of surprise as he ripped past and through Raumens. This corridor was circular, like the Death Circle on Fort. He ran faster, turning left into the circle.
The layout was different, instead of taking him deeper, it led to a larger door.
Slam. That didn’t work. One of his horns had chipped slightly from the impact. They took forever to grow back.
“Stop, Vorchan!” yelled several guards. They had him trapped in this dead-end corridors, their weapons raised.
They weren’t wearing collars. He readied a flameburst—
and swallowed it as he saw Ignatio appear from among them, bracelet clearly in-hand.
“Fawkes. I’m not completely sure how you hacked our restraint system, but I give credit where it’s due. Both you and your ship are struggling exceptionally.”
“Nyx, Red.” Fawkes growled.
“The Blackwing is gone. Her mind was lost when she awoke. We don’t think anything can bring her back to sanity.”
The memories those restraints must have unleashed. “Why are you doing this!” Fawkes roared.
“Didn’t Loran tell you? We need the fire-gene!” he said. “It will give us our edge against GalCore!”
“NCR?” Fawkes asked.
“Us? Nowhere near as harmless.” Ignatio laughed. “Where the NCR use brawn to fulfill their goals, we use superior technology.”
“One day the VE will destroy you for the way you’re treating its species.” Fawkes warned. The thought worried him, as he knew the VE wouldn’t differentiate between the NCR, Galcore, or these latest psychos.
“Ah I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I know all about you and your history with the VE. Oh Royal Fawkes. And to think it was the seed of another that made your daughter a Queen. What irony…”
Fawkes stared, never having met someone aware of his lineage. “That is why you have no last name, isn’t it?”
“My personal family tree is of no concern to you.” Fawkes growled.
“Oh but it is. You see your Empire has put quite a price on your return.”
“It’s not my Empire. I was third in line.” Fawkes muttered.
“To think of all you gave up – for what?”
“Freedom.” Fawkes hissed.
“You could have had that. It was more than that, wasn’t it? You gave it all up – your siblings, your mother and father. You knew they would despise you.”
Fawkes looked away, trying not to see Rin’s face flashing across his guilty conscience.
“There is one thing that you would trade your daughter for, isn’t there? That you would let your mate continuously suffer for?”
Fawkes grimaced, watching the bracelet as it glinted off the synthetic light, “If you knew there was a chance I didn’t value Red’s life, you wouldn’t have put a death ring on her.”
“Oh it’s on more than Red now. We’ve put it into your ship’s neural plexus.” The Vorchan’s countenance froze as he glared at Ignatio. “You have a way out. Fawkes.”
“Do I?” Fawkes asked.
“We’ll spare your ship – and you.”
Fawkes watched the man carefully, looking for any sign of deceit. “Why?”
“Because that is your weakness – the continued sentience of your ship. It was a pledge you made to it. You are a Vorchan of your word. You would give your life to ensure your ship’s continued freedom.”
Fawkes swallowed, remembering Flames as a beemster. “Give him back.”
The link re-activated, almost too much for his emotions to handle at once.
Fawkes! I couldn’t keep them at bay! Hannah is hiding in the vents. How did you – oh… Flames noticed the guards and Ignatio.
A multi-stage koveran-laced kinetic dart was readied. Flames aimed it at Ignatio. You can’t. He has a death ring.
What do we do?
You escape.
My terminals are clipped, Fawkes.
“Let him go.” Fawkes demanded.
“He leaves this area, and the collar will have no effect. You would rather kill us and your family than leave them in servitude. I know you well enough to know that.” Ignatio said.
“How do you know me?” Fawkes asked.
Ignatio laughed, “Go.” The guards moved out of the way. “Go to your ship, and forget this ever happened. Start again.”
Fawkes wasn’t sure what he should do. Click.
Ignatio’s expression changed immediately. “Huh? How did you—“
Fawkes unleashed a torrent of flame, panting heavily from the exertion. He was afraid to check up on his ship’s status, afraid the death collar had somehow still activated.
How did you disable that collar? Flames asked.
I don’t know. Things just seem to unlock when I stare at them long enough. I keep forgetting.
Can you stare at those clips around my terminals? It would be helpful—
Pain shot through Flames right shoulder, knocking him on his back.
“Idiot Vorchan!” Ignatio snarled, his glowing arm grabbing Fawkes’ neck. Some sort of electrostatic shield…
Fawkes was slammed against the wall…
and muscle augmentation…. ouch
His left horn snapped in half, making him howl in pain and rebut with a wall of fire. It streamed around Ignatio like a waterfall hitting a precipice. Fawkes was barely able to stand now, tears in his eyes. Ignatio simply walked up to him. Fawkes refused to back away, snarling.
“Oh Fawkes. I really did offer an exit.” he said, stroking him with a burning touch. It made Fawkes lie down in exhaustion, barely able to keep his eyes open…
The world was fading…
and fading…
–
–
The Great Hall of Scorn. It wasn’t difficult for Fawkes to memorize. He felt himself walking down it, bound in chains. He was surrounded by other Vorchans, but recognized none of them. Cheering and jeering were more Vorchans, their wings fluttering. Thousands of them watching Fawkes march down the hall.
“Traitor!” they yelled. “Murderer!”
He stumbled, feeling returning as he felt horns against his flank. A Terran. “Keep moving, Vulcan.”
“Nyx, Red!” Fawkes demanded.
The Terran regarded him for a moment, then shot a burst of flame at his face. It knocked Fawkes back. “Speech is forbidden by the persecuted!” The Terran bellowed, beckoning for Fawkes to keep moving. It was difficult to get used to the chains, and there were tiny weights around the webs of his wings, eliminating flight as an escape route. Knowing he couldn’t speak, all he could do was march on.
He arrived at the Triumvirate of Sedonii. It was located at the end of the Great Hall, and was where the most atrocious were sentenced. It was called the Triumvirate because it was controlled by three semi-independent entities: Justice, Prudence, and Providence. Each was represented by an elected Vorchan, and each had a say in the final verdict.
Justice was a Vulcan. He was old and scarred, with a nictitating membrane seeming to sit permanently over his left eye. It twitched as he blinked his other eye.
“Fawkes! Second – in – line for the Darkonian title.” declared Justice. “You have been brought before us accused!”
A Desert came forward, holding a parchment in its claws. “You are accused of murder, theft, heresy, and reckless lust. Your charges will be weighed before the Triumvirate.”
Reckless lust. It had been a while since he’d heard of that. It was always Vulcans stamped with the reckless lust charge, generally when one killed its mate to secure a relationship. He didn’t remember killing any mates.
They went over the murder charges first. It didn’t take long for Fawkes to realize that they didn’t care too much about his life outside the VE.
“The death of Doctors, Liu’Sarra, Riu, Fang, and Lonig. As well as guards Deo’lan, Nem’sar, Quensin, Nomadi, Rumigar, Lyso, Ergo, Nemeth…”
Fercius was taken back to that night once more, when he had decided to break away from the VE. Flames had been restrained, and very quiet. His higher functions were to be severed the next morning. They had become amazing friends throughout their childhood, but both of them had known the day would come when Flames would be discovered. It was out of their control.
Fawkes had considered killing himself the morning it would happen, so their existence could end together, “… Johnson, Lumen, Ramen, Kendar, Las’sori…” So he stood there in his windowless chamber.
“Are you okay?” someone had asked, one of the other students, the Vorchan assigned to his chambers. There were several beds to a chamber. It was a fuzzy memory. He retreated from it.
The Desert had finished reading the names of those he had killed, and sat down to catch his breath.
“The punishment for a mass murder such as one as that is lifelong enslavement on a core.” Justice said, “But due to the nature… and strength” Justice reluctantly added, “of the accused. The punishment would have to be death.”
Fawkes remained equanimous, analyzing the judges silently.
“What do you have to say in your defence, Fawkes?” Prudence asked.
“My friend was going to die.” Fawkes said simply.
The jeering crowd had gone silent while the names had been read, but were now starting to rile up again.
“And by your ‘friend’, do you mean the spaceship?” Prudence asked.
There was some laughter from the crowd, even Prudence had had difficulty asking with a straight face. To most Vorchans, a friendship with anything other than another Vorchan was difficult to grasp.
But Fawkes knew he couldn’t win, here. He had to find a way out, figure out what had happened to Flames and to his family. “I do. Where is he?”
“At the evidence hangar, along with all your other possessions.”
That was a big hangar, then.
“Is he still alive?” Fawkes asked, trying not to show his worry.
The triumvirate watched him closely, especially Prudence. She was an Arctic-Polar mix, her scales a very light shade of blue. She had dark blue eyes and paws. There was no other color contrast on her body. Her horns bent downwards from her head and extended out to the nape of her neck. They looked thin and fragile.
“We have no need of the ship in our fleet. It has been contaminated.” Justice replied.
“—but it is alive.” interjected Prudence. The others looked at her, as if she were talking out of line. Fawkes took a note of this, locking eyes with hers.
They were still animals, and their base instincts were powerful, extremely powerful. So powerful, in fact, that there were entire planets of Vorchans that had given up the ways of order and society, and functioned as their ancestors had all those years ago on that mythical Earthen planet.
Knowing that, Fawkes smirked at Prudence, who immediately looked away, her face betraying a slight blush. That was when he knew he could win this.
“We don’t recognize a starship as something regarding any virtue of defence. They are tools of the trade, Vulcan.” said Justice, scanning Fawkes’ scars.
“Justice,” Fawkes replied, “what of the Black Nova, then. Did he not have a kinship with his starship?”
“Myth.” Justice replied.
“The accused has a point.” said Providence, another female, this one a Desert. Her scales were light brown, her stomach dark brown with tiny black spots that betrayed her age. There were several serrated blades protruding from her tail and elbow. Her horns were jagged and bloodstained. She had dark brown eyes that stared into Fawkes’ soul as Nyx’s did. “The Black Nova is said to have been the first ruler of an independent Descendent.”
“I argue that he wasn’t a ruler.” Fawkes said, “But a friend. And back then they wouldn’t have been called Descendents, as it was that ship the others descended from.”
“Semantics.” argued Justice.
“Regardless!” interjected the Arctic-mix, watching Fawkes hungrily, “The Vulcan is right in saying kinships long ago were honoured. The Black Nova did meet with Rin’tsu.”
Fawkes looked away, the name filling him with guilt. All Queens were given the same honourable name, and carried it proudly. Oh what his mother would think of him. She probably already knew.
“I tire of this attempt at using myth to defend the actions of an individual who clearly caused great suffering to the Vorchan Empire.” Justice growled, slamming his tail against the floor behind him. It silenced the roiled crowd. “Even if, and this is a big if, the Descendent starship under Fawkes command could somehow be considered a sentient creature, its life could not be of more value than the lives of the dozens Fawkes murdered in its steed.”
“Love.” Prudence said, staring at Fawkes. “He loved the ship.”
“I grew up with the ship. Vulcans aren’t regarded in the same way as other Vorchans. You would know, Justice. We don’t get the same affection or friendship.”
“We are warriors.” Justice roared.
“Perhaps.” Fawkes said, “But there are times when a warrior must put down his arms and rest.” Fawkes looked straight at Prudence, she twitched.
Providence looked at Prudence, then at Fawkes, “So you say this starship was a dear friend of yours—“
“IS a dear friend of mine.” Fawkes growled, tail swaying back and forth as he tried not to stare at the Arctic.
“Then I can accept that, and the fervour associated with the defence of something that would die due to your inaction, as it would have, had you not stopped those tasked with the pacification of your friend.”
“Thank you.” Fawkes nodded.
“I can accept it too.” Prudence added.
“Very well.” Justice sighed, “Then there is a vote for the dismissal of the deaths of over a dozen Vorchans due to the accused’s infatuation with a biomechanoid semi-sentient creature.”
Both Prudence and Providence voted in favour, outvoting Justice and forcing the charge of murder to be dropped. It took several minutes for the crowd to calm down after such an outcome. Even if Fawkes somehow survived the trial, he wasn’t completely sure how he could survive this angry mob.
“Then that brings us to the charge of theft. The starship was still the property of the Vorchan Empire.”
“You cannot own a living creature.” Fawkes said simply.
Theft was dropped.
“Heresy.” Justice said.
“That charge was levied based on his idea that starships were sentient beings, was it not?” Prudence asked.
“Yes.” Justice replied.
“Then it would be fair to say that, since we as the triumvirate had agreed in the dismissal of the previous two charges on account of the ship having been sentient, we could dismiss the charge of heresy as well?”
“You two agreed to it.” Justice hissed, “We have been doing this to biomechanoid craft since the beginning of time. Even when the Black Nova arrived, he respected our customs and did not attempt to spark a revolution!”
“Maybe he didn’t know.” Providence said, almost to herself, “What would he think of our actions…”
“What he thinks does not matter! We do not worship the blasted Black Nova!” Justice spat.
The crowd was jeering at Justice now, chanting ‘Black Nova.’
“Very well, charges of heresy dropped.”
The crowd cheered.
Fawkes smiled.
“Reckless lust…” Justice sneered. “What do you say in your defence?”
“Can you elaborate on the charge?” Fawkes asked.
“So you want the details, figures, considering how long ago this was.” Justice said, reading something by his podium. “Do you remember Leinarra?”
Fawkes froze, the name was familiar, locked away in the recesses of his mind. “Yes.” he said, thinking back to that night.
“Are you okay?” Leinarra asked, running her fangs along his neck. Fawkes groaned, lying down on his side.
“They’re going to kill him…” Fawkes muttered, staring up at her. Her figures were a blur, but he remembered she had been a Maritime, a dark blue Vorchan. She was so smooth, and her tail was long and wedge-shaped to accommodate swimming.
“It’s a ship, Fawkes…” she growled, pinning him to the ground.
“He’s Flames!” Fawkes hissed.
“Shhh, you’ll wake the others.” she retorted, embracing him, kissing him. Fawkes remembered trying to break free. He didn’t deserve the pleasure, the love, not when Flames was due for death, not when he was ready to die.
“Let me go!” Fawkes growled.
“Let it go.” she moaned.
That was when instinct had taken over. Fawkes had forgotten that day, but now the emotions of it came back with full force. He bit down on her neck in a fit of fury. Blood sprayed him. Her death had been the catalyst for Flames’ rescue.
“You speak of love…” Justice said, watching Fawkes carefully, “Yet you destroyed that which loved you most.”
“It was reckless lust…” Fawkes admitted with a deep sigh, ashamed.
Prudence and Providence didn’t say anything. They voted in favour of the reckless lust charge. It meant four years on an industrial core. The crowd was silent, unsure of what to think of the last charge. Even Prudence avoided eye contact.
“What will happen to my ship?” Fawkes asked.
Nobody answered. The guards escorted him to a holding area, where he would stay until the next shuttle arrived. Nobody told him when that was, but hours had passed, and he was getting tired.
There was a single mattress in the holding area, large enough for a Vorchan with wings sprawled, but not very comfortable. Regardless, he lied down on the filthy thing and closed his eyes. Soon he was on his back dreaming. He wasn’t sure what he had dreamt, but awoke sometime later to a weight on his body.
“Why did you kill her!” she hissed.
Fawkes was confused. “I couldn’t help it. It was shameful. I suppressed the memory.”
“You loved him – your ship. It wreaked havoc on your instincts, Fawkes.”
“Prudence?” Fawkes asked.
“But – were your instincts satisfied…” Prudence suggested.
Did they even know of Nyx? Fawkes was about to ask but then realized the VE would have had no use of her. She might not even have been given to them. She could still be back at that facility, with Red.
“I –“ Fawkes wasn’t sure what to ask, or say. Nyx and Red seemed so distant, another world. And here was an Arctic, a renowned Arctic, pinning him to the floor of a dirty holding cell.
She began kissing him voraciously, the way Nyx did at times, but without her grace. His jaw-line bled as incisors clashed, it instigated a fervour in him that made him kiss and bite back, claw at her hide as they entwined.
–
The next morning Fawkes awoke with her gone. He wondered if it was all a dream, and followed the guard listlessly to a waiting shuttle. The guard waiting outside as the door closed.
It reminded him of the shuttle he and Nyx had taken after having been arrested around that gas giant. They had moved the seats so there would be room for fun.
He sat down, noticing how empty the shuttle was. There must be more of these than needed for all the inmates, it probably wasn’t often single entities got prosecuted.
The shuttle landed a few hours later, and the doors depressurized, revealing something he hadn’t expected.
“Flames?” he asked, seeing the red and black walls of his fighter bay.
Something hit him in the back of the neck, and his world exploded with impulse and memory. Flames had put up quite a fight trying to get away from the forces capturing him, there were gashes along the hull where electro-cables had been used to force him into submission.
There. Flames transmitted. The object that had hit Fawkes in the back of the neck had been a small drone. It had removed the inhibitor in seconds.
Nyx? Red?
Wait wait… whoa. Did you just – who’s that – oooh Prudence. That is a sexy name.
Don’t tell Nyx… where is she?
Probably at the complex. They weren’t done with them.
We have to go back.
Yes, but let’s not rush, Fawkes. We’ve got the element of surprise. It was Flames calming his captain down now, infusing the neural band with euphoric and soothing thoughts.
Right, you’re right. But they could be dying.
Perhaps. But we can’t take them alone…