🚀 go-pugleaf

                   <<Continued from Part One>>



     Sheen slumped against the bulkhead, her eyes closed.  The last
five days had been chaos -- repair the damage, upgrade and update,
welcome the new Chief Engineer and work with him to retrofit out
the unstable and vastly overpowered Spam based APBSARI in lieu of a
more conventional Microstar plant... and of course, steal what time
she could with Andrew....
     She was standing outside the room of the man who had made it
possible.  A man that she had hated twenty days before.  A man who
had hated her twenty days before.
     A man she thought maybe she could have loved again, if it
weren't too late for that.
     She breathed in, stepped forward, and knocked on the door.
     "Come."  His voice was clear, without the pain she had heard
so often.  The burning need.  She slipped open the door.
     His fiery red hair swept back over his shoulders, his powerful
back and shoulders flexing as he methodically folded his clothes
and slipped them into his bags.  Free of the anger that had marked
their last few years, Sheen could remember what a physical presence
he was.
     Not to mention that he was the only man who had ever
successfully touched her through the mirror-shell that was a
hallmark of her powers.
     "Something up?" he asked.  She didn't know how he knew it was
her, but he did.  "I figured my days as your temporary First
Officer were over."
     "They are," Sheen said quietly.  "Does that mean we have to
start arguing again?"
     "If it's all the same to you, Nu'velt, I'd rather skip that."
He looked back over his shoulders, the twin coals that were his
eyes glinting with something close to amusement."
     "Nu'velt?" Sheen asked, smiling slightly.  "That's... dominant
friend, right?"
     "It seemed appropriate.  More appropriate than the submissive
role I forced you into."  He started folding his dress white
uniform.
     Sheen breathed in.  They hadn't broached the subject of their
relationship these past several days.  After a couple of seconds,
she decided she liked it like that.  "I hear Wavelength restored
your rank and put you back on permanent duty," she said.
"Congratulations."
     "Thanks."
     "I mean it, Benjadi... you deserve it.  I needed you as my
First, and you performed beyond anyone's expectations."
     "Thank you.  Who has the duty now?"
     "Lieutenant Granite, until Digulio returns from Iskandar."
     "Makes sense.  With Corpse as his aide?"
     "Mm-hm."
     "Good."  Benjadi turned.  "I resigned my commission with the
Earthguard this morning," he said quietly.
     Sheen stared.  "Ben... why?"
     "Michelle... it was all a lie.  I can understand that now.  I
can understand myself, now.  The warrior, the anger, the
belligerence... they were all born of my need to dominate, my need
to develop my Chi'pi while letting my Ko'pi lie fallow."
     "Chi'pi?  Ko'pi?"
     Benjadi smiled.  "They're not terms that are in widespread
usage off Rialto, Michelle.  Not these days.  You know that Rialto
Colony's devoted to the concepts of dominating or submitting -- the
entire society is reflected in chains of dominance."
     "I'm somewhat familiar, yes," Sheen said, managing to smile
about it.
     "Right.  Well, the Velt'pa are those in the system.  The
Chi'velts, who are the dominants, and the Ko'velts, who are the
submissives.  The prophet Leiphali was called an Ohm'velt -- the
one in balance.  This didn't mean he was neutral.  It isn't
possible to be Rialton and neutral.  But he had in balance his
Dominant and Submissive sides.  His Chi'pi and Ko'pi.  And that
balance gave him the strengths of both."
     "Which is what you aspire to?"
     "No... it is what the followers of the Lephalian movement
aspire to.  I achieved it.  The Red Lord showed me the way.  I'm
the second Ohm'velt.  The second one in balance.  Kid Nuclear
couldn't be.  He was a failed dominant -- that's all he could see.
I can see more.
     "Just like I can see... just what I did to you, Michelle."  A
tear bubbled into steam in the fires of Benjadi's eye.  "I'm... oh
Michelle, I'm so damn sorry... I'm sorry for the head games and the
angers and the punishments and *everything*."
     "I know," Sheen said, letting herself cry too, just a bit.  "I
know, Ben...."
     "I understand better now... I was trying to force you into the
rules of my world... when you didn't really know them.  People on
Rialto are raised to develop themselves spiritually.  To learn
their Ko'pi and Chi'pi innately.  To learn those they submit to and
those they dominate.  It creates a society based on will... based
on strength.
     "And... I left that world, and didn't know that I couldn't fit
that mold... and I encountered people who found it alien.  I
encountered you... and I forced you into a life that you had
neither the capacity nor the desire to live in.  It was like you
were a newborn child, and I expected you to be an adult.
     "And... because of that... I missed the fact that you *were*
an adult... and that you weren't a submissive.  And that hurt you
badly.  And I'm sorry."
     Sheen nodded.  "It's all right, Benjadi.  Let's let it go.
Let's try to be friends."
     Benjadi nodded, and closed his suitcase.
     "So where will you go," Sheen asked, realizing she wanted to
know.  "What will you do now?  Back to Rialto and the Leiphalan
movement?"
     "No," he said.  "Not yet.  I've just come into balance... just
learned that I could dominate or submit to the same person as I
needed to, without losing my soul.  I don't really know what that
means yet.  I have to explore it.  So, I'm going to another colony
world -- Orzechowicz."
     "Orzechowicz?  Who do you know there?"
     "No one."
     Sheen sighed.  "Benjadi... this evolution doesn't mean leaving
all your friends.  It doesn't mean being alone."
     "Well...."  Benjadi looked uncomfortable.  "I won't be
completely alone."
     "What?  Who's going with you?"
     "Weeeeell..."
     Sheen laughed lightly.  "Come on," she said.
     "Genevive Tombolo."
     Sheen blinked.  "My untwin?" she asked.  "You and--"
     "No.  No, nothing so... obvious or predictable.  She's... a
newborn, Michelle.  A child, in all the ways that count.  She
needs... someone to help her.  And she's lost her special powers...
all that's left is her mirror force -- the same mirror force that
you grew into.  But it's all *she* knows, and it leaves her as
isolated as you are.
     "This is my chance, Michelle.  My chance to help her grow,
inside and out.  My chance to redeem myself for everything I did to
you.  And this is her chance *to* grow.  To develop, around someone
who knows her past and where she came from, without Wavelength's
benevolent discipline."
     "I... yeah, I can see that.  All right, Benjadi.  Um... I have
to go speak to Singularity about the plant.  But... we'll see each
other before you leave, right?"
     "Of course.  If nothing else, you'll have to see the Menelaus
off."
     "Right."  She paused, then turned to go--
     And his arms were around her, and pressed firmly, and her
mirror force gave way for him, and for a few seconds Michelle
closed her eyes and relished the simple joy of touch.  For a few
seconds, she was sixteen and he was fifteen, and she was Reflective
Lass again.
     And the few seconds passed, and he let her go, and Captain
Sheen headed out of the cabin, a million things to do.

                           <><><><><>

     "Docking control, docking control.  This is F.C.S. Argonaut
requesting permission to approach and enter orbit.  Do you read?
Docking control, docking control.  This is--"
     The Ensign stopped speaking, watching the readout scroll.
Behind him, he heard the hatch open.  "Hey Skipper," he said.  "We
just got an automated permission.  Go into high orbit?"
     The Commander nodded, glancing around the cockpit with
reptilian slitted eyes.  The Ensign felt his insides turn slightly.
The Commander was a hardass and enjoyed it.  "The copilot's
control's aren't locked," he said.
     "Well, right.  I sometimes like to set up hard maneuvers on
them, and switch, to save--"
     "In a combat situation, a hit could dislodge something in the
cabin.  That something could hit the controls and alter their
settings.  That could cause the pilot to lose control of the ship.
When there isn't a copilot on watch, those controls are locked."
     "This is a diplomatic mission -- we're not going to be in com-
-"
     "My father once told me to approach every mission with
Diplomacy and Grace.  Diplomacy was the name of his pulse rife,
Grace was the name of his hunting knife.  Lock those controls,
Mister Harrison."
     The Ensign sighed.  "Yessir," he said, setting the approach on
auto and leaning across to lock the panel.
     "Right.  Inform me if we get contacted with landing
instructions.  I'll be out back with the others."
     "Yessir."
     The Commander left.  "My luck," the Ensign muttered.  "I drew
God Damn Digulio."
     Said God Damn Digulio stepped through the cramped corridors of
the Argonaut, making his way aft to the galley.  The Argonaut was
orbiting Iskandar, a world with a new, unprecedented economic
opportunity on it.  Digulio was in command of a Diplomatic Mission
-- the reason Round Robin existed, and the reason it existed so far
on the frontier.  His command staff had been comprised of two of
the paranorms on Round Robin's permanent staff, and one Earthguard
observer.  They were ferrying the Ambassador assigned to Round
Robin, to begin negotiations.
     On paper it all looked good.  Digulio hated the way things
looked on paper.  In reality he had the greenhorn and the braindead
for his team, coupled with the least reliable Earthguard member who
had gone to Round Robin.  Only Ambassador Dumont lived up to her
reputation -- particularly when one remembered her reputation
included near-stellar mass.
     Hell of a way to go up against the Nin.  `We're not going to
be in combat,' Harrison had said.  Pathetic.
     Digulio took a moment and composed himself, as a digulio
should.  It wouldn't be fitting to let the troops see him fret.
     He stepped into the small conference room.  Two petty officers
were serving coffee.  Monopulse was there, wearing her Dress
Earthguard Whites and looking uncomfortable in them.  She sat next
to Shockwave, who had his hand on her inner leg in a rather
unprofessional and vaguely sexist way.  Digulio chose to ignore it,
as he figured Ambassador Dumont would frown on his tearing
Shockwave's head from his shoulders and throwing it into the
reaction drive.  The Fringe Corps Sublieutenant was wearing his own
dress blacks and had his eyes closed, listening to blaring music on
his comclips.
     Across from them, Ambassador Dumont overflowed a chair and
reviewed notes quietly, sipping coffee handed to her by Petty
Officer Billiam.  She glanced up as Digulio entered and nodded.
"We'e here?" she asked.
     "Yes."  Digulio unceremoniously pulled a comclip out of
Shockwave's left ear as he passed him and sat in one of the free
chairs.  "We're arranging for landing instructions now.  The Nin
Conglomerate has apparently already landed."
     "Great," Sublieutenant Monopulse muttered.  Just what we need
- playing catchup."
     "Not so," Ambassador Dumont said.  "The Iskandarans are very
spiritual people, and they have a deeply ingrained belief in
balance.  They would not have initiated discussions with the
Ninites, knowing that we were also coming along."
     "Like the Ninnies will wait," Shockwave muttered.
     "Sublieutenant," Digulio snapped, "strike the word Ninny from
your vocabulary.  If I hear it from your lips again, you'll use
those lips to clean the Head."
     "Ugh -- sir, have a heart.  Monopulse has to kiss those lips!"
     "Has to?" Monopulse asked with an arched eyebrow.
     "If we can drop the banter," Digulio forced on, "let's
remember.  Ninite.  Period.  Ambassador, if you could continue?"
     "All right.  I said the Nin Conglomerate's lead wouldn't
effect the negotiations.  This is true.  The advantage they *do*
have over us is familiarity.  They've been on site.  They've made
contacts.  They've gotten used to the local culture.  That's a
strong advantage -- one we'll have to overcome quickly.
     "Which will be easier as soon as we have a better grasp of the
Ninite Diplomatic team sent in.  Digulio?  Have we gotten any--"
     "Yes, actually," Digulio said, rubbing his eyes.  "We got a
communique almost immediately.  More of the `open negotiation'
policy the natives follow.  We're looking at a pretty heavy team."
     "Well, that makes sense," Shockwave said.  "I mean, we're
talking about psychic rocks here.  I think pretty much any big
organization would want psychic rocks, right?'
     "Arisite is hardly `psychic rocks,'" Dumont said.  "It's
apparently a natural substance that opens and expands the mental
facilities of the--"
     "Psychic rocks," Shockwave said again.  "Come on -- how's
that--"
     "We're wandering afield," Digulio said.  "Can we get some
focus?  Ambassador, we're looking at three assistants, two junior
attaches, two senior envoys and the regional Vice President for
Diplomatic Affairs in the Ninite camp.  Plus support staff."
     Monopulse whistled.  "Why didn't they send the Secretarial
Pool and a janitor, just to round things out."
     "I think the gravity of the situation should be apparent,
Subleftenant," Digulio said.  "We're to support the Ambassador and
her team as they bid for... Ambassador?"
     Dumont blinked, and looked up.  "Yes?" she said.
     "You looked distracted.  Is something wrong?"
     "Wr-- no.  Not at all, Commander.  Tell me.  Does your
manifest for the Ninite team include profiles?"
     "Mm?  Limited ones, yes."
     "That Vice President -- who is it?"
     Digulio glanced.  "Edward Stewart," he said.  "UCP Expatriate
-- jumped the N-Space Divide some four years ago.  Why?"
     "I -- no particular reason.  I've met Stewart before.  He's
the youngest brother in the Earthguard Stewart clan -- Commander
Excalibur, Captain Impulse--"
     "We're familiar with the Stewarts," Digulio said, leaning
slightly forward.  "Their brother is a Ninite defector?  I wasn't
aware of that.  Is he Paranormal as well?"
     "No.  No, he's mundane."
     Digulio nodded slightly.  "Well then, I don't see that our
situation has demonstrably changed--"
     "I agree," Dumont said quickly, rising.  "If you'll excuse me
for a few moments, I'll be right back."
     Digulio blinked.  "Of course," he said, and watched her leave.
     "My my my," Monopulse said.  "Anyone else get the feeling
there's a story behind that reaction?"
     "Too much of one," Digulio said.  "I'll send a communique to
Round Robin -- see if the Captain knows anything.  She's in with
the Stewarts."
     "Is that what the kids call it these days?" Shockwave smirked.
     Digulio turned and fixed reptilian eyes on Shockwave, clearly
angry but restrained.  "Sublieutenant, you will refrain from making
such flippant comments about the Captain and her personal life."
     "Hey whoa -- Digulio, drop the--"
     "Hear me?  I can make this assignment pretty miserable for
you."
     "Yes.  Sir."
     "Good.  Now--" he slipped two plastiglass chips out of a pouch
clipped to his board.  "These linguistic chips go in the standard
uniform interface.  They're loaded with two modes of language --
work speech and their religious tongue.  It's offensive to use the
religious tongue outside of official situations, and downright
blasphemous to use the work tongue in any official circumstance --
including negotiations.  Your uniforms' sound and processing
systems have been upgraded -- they'll work the same way.  Make sure
you're in the right language mode, and you'll hear near-instant
translations and your suit will play translations.  Don't speak too
loudly or you'll make it hard to understand you."
     "You know, I have used linguistic hardware before," Monopulse
said.
     "Yes, but Shockwave hasn't -- and as he has some trouble with
Anglic--"
     "Hey hey hey!  This thing's gonna mess up my music-chip
schedule--"
     "Oh, the humanity," Digulio said dryly.  "Excuse me -- I'm
going to check the Ensign in the cockpit, and go over this with him
as well.  Read your briefings again, and get familiar with the
makeup of the Ninite team.  Your datapads should have the
information in them now."  Digulio made his way forward in the
ship.
     "Dirk?" Monopulse asked.
     "Yeah?"
     "This isn't going to be very much fun, is it?"
     "Nope.  Want a cuppa coffee?"
     "Yeah."



                   <<Continued in Part Three>>



--
Beta-Cit Eric Alfred Burns  |"Takes more than Combat Gear to Make a Man,
<sabre@awenet.com>          | Takes more than a License for a Gun.
http://www.eyrie.org/~sabre | Confront your Enemies, Avoid them when you can,
Writer Type, Poet Boy       | A Gentleman will walk but never run."
Gadfly-for-Hire             |                             --Sting