Chapter 15

Snippets of barely animated conversation drifted down the corridor; the droning sounds of people beleaguered by circumstance and bereft of caffeine. Hoxley couldn’t do much about the former, but the latter was eminently solvable. Without BOB, the nigh unending torrent of coffee that fueled the crew had abruptly run dry. This left many of them irritable to the point of spacing anyone who looked at them the wrong way. Fortunately, Hoxley had a secret cache of coffee beans for when he needed something more palatable than the mass-produced synthetic trash Starlux peddled as “coffee.”

“May I have some of that, best friend?” Beast asked in his lilting brogue. Hoxley had heard many a Hearthlight halfling with the same accent and surmised his furry friend was born there.

“No, no coffee for you, Beast.”

Beast’s eyes grew large and pitiful.

“Coffee will poison you. Your body can’t process it.”

“Couldn’t you just fix me with your magical powers?”

“No. Well, I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. In any case,” Hoxley said, grabbing a dried piece of liver from a jar, “you have plenty of great-tasting snacks that won’t kill you.”

Beast eagerly snapped up the meaty chunk when Hoxley tossed it. “Mmm, thank you. I would still like to know what coffee tastes like. There are so many foods I’ve yet to try.”

Hoxley smiled as he grabbed the carafe, “Me too. Tell you what, I’ll see if decaf is an option. I’m pretty sure caffeine is the offending chemical for dogs.”

“Isn’t it strange that coffee will kill me, yet all of you can’t live without it?”

“You learn to speak and suddenly you’re a philosopher?”

“What’s a philosopher?”

“I’ll explain later. Let’s just get this to them before they kill themselves or each other. Can you get the door on your way out?”

Beast hopped up and tapped the panel with a paw.

“Okay, remember, no talking in front of them. I’m not ready to disclose any of what’s happening to me yet. Not till I learn more. Odybrix already looks like she wants to toss me out the airlock.”

“Perhaps the coffee will help?”

“Here’s hoping.”

Hoxley stepped into the hold to see Odybrix sitting with her head against the table and Buddy propped up in the seat across from her. Adam sat atop a cargo crate with his eyes closed and Sturdy leaned dreary-eyed against the adjacent wall. Vesper and Annie McClue sat away from the group, perhaps out of a sense of self-preservation. The smell of coffee wafted from the carafe, summoning the dead from their slumber. Odybrix raised her head and stared at the container with unrestrained desire.

“What you got there, Hox?”

“Coffee. Real beans, ground and pressed. Do you want some?”

“I am on the verge of kissing you or slugging you. The outcome depends entirely on how fast you get over here.”

Hoxley stepped over to the table as the others converged like wolves on a fallen deer. He laid out the cups and poured the steaming liquid from the carafe. Odybrix ravenously downed the drink, paying no heed to the scalding temperature. The others followed suit but at a more restrained pace.

Hoxley smiled. “Well, what’s it like to have non-synth coffee?”

“I hate it,” Odybrix said, “give me more.”

Rapid steps rang out from beyond the med bay and the door slid open.

“Someone has coffee?” Zenith asked.

“Yes. Enough for everyone. Even our stowaways.”

“If your terrible and expensive coffee is in short supply, we’re not giving it to any stowaways,” Odybrix said firmly, murder in her eyes.

“‘Stowaways’ would imply that we’re not earning our keep,” Annie McClue said.

“You’re not,” Sturdy said, the rare trace of a smile curling on his lips as he slipped from the cup.

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“Beg all you want, you’re not getting any,” Odybrix said, starting her third cup.

“I think you’ll change your mind,” Vesper said.

“I think so too,” Ozzy said over comms, eliciting strange looks from the crew, “Want me to play it for them?”

“Please do.”

A visual of Annie set in front of the backdrop of the assault on Levisia appeared on the hold’s display.

“This is Annie McClue, speaking to you immediately after the events on Levisia station, where an alleged assault by bio-terrorists led to the destruction of the station by the Remington Corporation flagship Baronnet. I’m here to tell you that the summary of events presented by Remington Chief Commercial Officer Vaughan Spectre appears to be, at least in part, false.”

The video cut away to a segment of the Remington broadcast displaying the crew’s headshots.

“The allegation is that these individuals subjected the inhabitants of Levisia station to a modified pathogen, originally created by Remington Corp. This is demonstrably false.”

The video transitioned to a montage of Vaelor blasting innocent station goers with green light and their subsequent grotesque transformations.

“This man, known only as Vaelor, appears to be the actual terrorist. As you can see from these scenes, he appears to be using an energy weapon that transforms those it strikes. There is no indication that this was a viral pathogen, as Vaughan Spectre suggests.”

The headshots of the crew appeared again.

“But what of the people he alleges to be terrorists?”

The image cut to a video of the crew embattled in Elysium.

“Here you can see these people, the mercenary crew of the spacecraft Sunrunner, actively fighting against the monstrosities created by Vaelor. As shown in the video, this is not simply a fight for survival. The crew can be seen on multiple occasions saving the residents and visitors of Levisia station from the violent mutants created by Vaelor.”

The video closed with a shot of Levisia being blown apart by the Baronnet.

“So what does this mean about Vaughan Spectre’s reasoning for the destruction of the station and the slaughter of millions of innocent lives? There is no confirmation that a pathogen existed aboard Levisia, and on-site footage suggests otherwise. The claim that the crew of the Sunrunner committed acts of bio-terrorism against the inhabitants of the station is patently false, as evidenced by their actions aboard the station. And finally, there is little information at all about the true culprit, Vaelor.

The destruction of Levisia appears to be an act of a mega-corporation attempting to hide something. In the days that follow, I will bring you more on this story and the mysterious circumstances around it.”

Zenith handed Annie a cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” she said politely. “It still needs some editing.”

“Here’s one for you too,” Zenith said, proffering a cup to Vesper.

“No thanks. I only drink tea.”

“Okay, it’s a counter-narrative,” Odybrix conceded, “but RC is going to throw their bloated corporate wealth on this to push their version of events.”

“I’ve got ins at a few newsrooms throughout the galaxy. They’ll jump at the chance to shove this in Remington’s face. I should be able to broadcast once we stop.”

“Thank the gods for journalism.”

“We can’t broadcast when we arrive at Gemheart,” Adam said. “Right now we’re traveling faster than their accusations. If we broadcast a video when we arrive, we’re going to invite a lot of unwanted attention.”

“Good point. We can make a quick stop at the nearest inhabited planet, broadcast there, then jump again. Stay ahead of the message. Unless they use a MiB,” Zenith said.

“They would need to know where we were going for that to be of any use,” Sturdy countered, “It’s going to take them time to figure out our destination.”

“What’s a MiB?” Buddy asked.

“Message in a bottle,” Odybrix answered. “It’s a transmitter attached to a rocket or projectile, or, if you’re a rich motherfucker with no patience, a mass reversion engine. Whatever lies you’re peddling could make it across the galaxy in a few weeks.”

“If we drop out of rev-space to broadcast it, that will give them a clue as to where we’re going. I say we hold off until after our business on Gemheart,” Adam suggested.

“I’m with you, kid,” Odybrix said, rubbing her eyes.

“Bad night’s sleep?” Buddy asked, then scanned the other weary faces in the room. “I guess that’s a question for everyone.”

“No, I slept well for once,” Hoxley said.

“Good for you,” Odybrix said, “maybe you’re refreshed enough to tell us how you’re connected to all of this?”

“Uh...”

Hoxley let the silence drag, uncertain of how to answer. Did he know the answer? Was he ready to tell them about his abilities? Oh, by the way, I’ve been cursed by a timeless monstrosity. I have vivid nightmares where I’m brutally murdered every night, but the upside is that I’ve got magical wizard powers. Check out this sweet lightning bolt. Beast stared up and tilted his head, as if suggesting that they simply let the cat out of the bag and be done with it. Hoxley stifled the suggestion with a frown, unwilling to commit to that level of honesty.

“The truth is that I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, skirting around a lie. “I’ve never met Vaelor before, at least, I think I haven’t. It’s hard to tell given the mask.”

“Okay, but what about this?” Zenith asked, vaguely motioning to all of Hoxley.

“I assume you don’t mean the entirety of me.”

“The lightning, Hox.”

“I, I don’t know. It’s new, okay? I’ve never been able to do something like this before.”

Beast let out a gentle snort of disapproval, unhappy with Hoxley’s lack of forthrightness. Hoxley frowned down at the dog. I’m getting enough flak from them, I don’t need it from you too. Zenith began saying something when another voice popped into Hoxley’s head.

They’re your pack. You shouldn’t keep things from them.

Did you just speak? I mean, in my brain, not out loud?

Of course.

You say that as if it’s normal!

It is.

“Hoxley?” Zenith said.

“Sorry, can you say that again?”

“I said, if you’re hiding something from us, now would be the time to get it out in the open. We’re up against people who wouldn’t think twice about killing us. We need to know where everyone stands.”

“That’s funny coming from you,” Odybrix said, bringing her cup to her lips.

“What does that mean?” Zenith asked, snapping to face Odybrix.

“The person who’s had the most success trying to kill us is your brother.”

“Vaelor has done something to him. He would never act like this. He’s career military and wouldn’t jeopardize his future, let alone raise a sword at me.”

“He’s tried to kill us twice now. The first time, he opened the dropship like a tin can. The second, he did the same to BOB. Had that been anyone else, they’d be dead—and BOB is hanging on by a thread and a prayer. So what I want to know is, if he comes after us again, are you going to take the shot, or are you going to freeze and let him cut us down.”

Zenith took a heavy step forward and bent down to Odybrix; the halfling’s face reflected in the mirror sheen of her helmet.

“That’s my brother; I’m the judge of whether he’s too far gone. If and when we meet him next, we’re going to drag his ass onto the ship and undo whatever’s been done to him.”

“And if he’s too far gone?” Sturdy asked.

“Then I’m the one who takes the shot.”

“Try not to forget where the trigger is if that beam blade is about to come down on my head,” Odybrix said.

“I might swing the sword myself if you go more than a day without coffee again,” Zenith said, irritated.

“I guess the last order of business,” Odybrix trailed off, pointedly looking at Adam.

“What? Why am I on the agenda?”

“Similar reasons.”

“Loyalties,” Sturdy added, drawing a tilt of the head from Zenith.

Only she and Hoxley knew that their less recent stowaway—the Sunrunner seemed to be amassing a collection of them—was an operative of Lenderan Corporation. Moreover, he had been tasked with retrieving the artifact Vaelor stole and with killing BOB. The former more or less aligned with the crew’s goals, and the latter, well, Hoxley hoped BOB survived long enough for it to become an issue. That said, Sturdy didn’t have any business talking about loyalties. The past twenty-four hours hadn’t afforded much time to sit and hash things out, but the three of them would need to have a conversation soon.

Zenith turned her head to Hoxley as if she were reading his thoughts. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging that they were on the same page, then let out a breath. They’d need to be careful when confronting him, there was the chance he could pull a gun and, knowing his luck, it would be Hoxley that got shot. Gods how he hated confrontation.

“Okay, I get it,” Adam said, “I work for Remington. But what happened couldn’t have been a legit operation. Spectre is trying to cover up something big to protect himself.”

Odybrix leaned back in her chair and said, “I think it would be more accurate to say you worked for Remington.”

“That guy doesn’t represent the whole company. If R&D knew about this-.”

“They tried to kill you, kid.”

“He tried to kill me. And he’ll pay for it.”

“You think anyone flying around with enough artillery to obliterate a fortified space station didn’t get orders from the top? They want us all dead to hide the fact they’ve been conducting some truly fucked up experiments.”

“My mo- Ms. Hargrave wouldn’t allow it!”

“Wait,” Sturdy said, keenly catching the slip-up, “Hargrave? Your mom is Millicent Hargrave? The head of Remington R&D?”

“I, uh,” Adam said, flustered.

“Vaelor stole the artifact from a research facility. You think the person at the top had no idea the company was conducting those experiments?”