The Wench– Ch 9: Serious Complications
“No!” she screamed, clutching Li-Cha friend to her, and Nador fired again. Then he shushed her.
“You’re playing your part very well, but quiet now,” he said. Hals grabbed Li-Cha and turned her over, about to shout her name, when Li-Cha’s hand clapped over her mouth. The other woman’s purple eyes begged her to be quiet.
“You’re okay?” Hals asked. She turned her head slightly, and saw four scorch marks in the doorframe. Nador Leych holstered his weapon and put his hands in his pockets.
“Listen, Lianne. You need to get off this station, before sunrise. Or morning, or whatever they call it here.”
Hals was confused. Li-Cha let her go and straightened up, then offered Nador her hand. He gave her a tiny, tight smile before shaking.
“I owed you, from the Baranpar Pit,” he said. “But next time, well…”
“I won’t let there be a next time,” Li-Cha said. “Thank you, Nador.”
He nodded, turned, and left the alley. Hals struggled to her feet, staring at the four scorch marks in the wall. The holes the blaster had made were inches deep, penetrating the metal frame almost entirely. Her shields almost certainly wouldn’t have stopped them.
“The hell?” Hals managed to whisper. “Your name is Lianne?”
Li-Cha stood up.
“Really, that is what you latch on to? You come by it honestly, Hals, I will give you that.”
“Lianne?!”
“It was, once,” Li-Cha said softly. “But we need to focus. Who do you love?”
“What?!” Hals asked, her voice pitching into hysteria. Li-Cha grabbed her shoulders and squeezed, hard.
“Who do you care most about on this station?” Li-Cha said slowly. Hals felt her brain start to catch up. Li-Cha started listing people off.
“Asendor, obviously. Probably Fifth too, you’ll feel responsible for her. Olfadden. And the girls from work, maybe? I’ll contact them, tell them to meet us. We’ll need a ship.”
“Stop!” Hals shouted. “What are you on about? What’s happening, and why--”
“We do not have time for questions,” Li-Cha yelled back. She whipped out her legible, a nice model with a triangular shape to it, and set up a video recording.
“Listen to me: Adumon Station is in danger, and we need to get off it immediately. Meet me and Hals at–that ship, that Fifth was on. What was it called?”
“The-- the Golden Esposs,” Hals said. She never forgot a ship, even when she felt like a dunce.
“Meet us at a ship called the Golden Esposs before sunrise. If you can’t get there, find another way off the station. We’ll wait as long as we can. Hurry.”
She ended the recording and started to fiddle with her legible. Hals just stared at her, her mind barely able to keep up. “But, what if he was lying? What if--”
“Nador Leych doesn’t lie. That’s what is so infuriating about him,” Li-Cha said.
“And I think there are at least a thousand Centurium troops on Silver’s Culling that are going to march out and arrest everybody on this station come sunrise. We need to be gone by then. Sooner, if we can.”
Li-Cha looked around. “I don’t know where we are. Can you lead us back to the main road? We need a skimmer.”
Fortunately, Hals could. She led them wordlessly back into the warren of alleys, staircases and tunnels that wound through Silver Crescent. In just a few minutes they were nearing the main thoroughfare. Li-Cha hailed a skimmer and one landed in front of them, spraying them with a blast of icy wind and snow. They piled into it, and they were off, flying up through the simulated atmosphere and out into the empty space of the station.
“You’re going to need to fly that ship, the one Fifth was on. Can you?” Li-Cha asked.
“I think so. I don’t know the model, but the principles don’t vary that much ship-to-ship. Li-Cha… shouldn’t we warn people what’s coming?”
“If we do, they’ll just attack sooner. Maybe once we’re safely on the ship and about to leave, we can send out a warning. But not before,” she said firmly. “You’ve got a good heart, but I’m not about to let it get you killed.”
They were nearing the edge of space where Silver’s Culling was docked, and Hals studied it again. The undamaged launch platforms, the plethora of weapons still intact, the lack of battle damage. The pieces were falling into place. She started, finally, to understand. And more importantly, to believe. She got her legible out and called Asendor.
“Hals? Oh, and you found Li-Cha!” he said as the video call connected. “That was a strange message she just sent out, did you get it?” He was still at the Maiden’s Lament, and drunk. Hals saw that the taproom behind him was crowded still with the pirates Jane Neind had been sitting with. She bit her lip.
“Oh yeah, we’re fine,” she said. “Did you, um, listen to that message loudly?” she asked. “Did everybody hear it?”
“Oh I suspect so!” Asendor said, chuckling. “Couldn’t find the damn volume setting for the life of me. I think I’ll head home soon. I’ve made merry a bit too much, I think,” he said, laughing again. Hals looked over at Li-Cha, and the fear she felt was reflected in her friend’s purple eyes.
“Asendor, why don’t you hurry along? I’ll meet you at home and make some nice tea for you, so you don’t get a headache tomorrow,” Hals said.
“Oh yes, that would be delightful! I’ll see you shortly dear.” He blew a kiss at the camera and cut the connection. Li-Cha swore.
“I forgot he was still there,” she said. “If those pirates are in on it and with Jane Neind, they know we know now. Which means…”
“Which means we need to hurry even more,” Hals concluded. Suddenly the skimmer bucked and dropped violently, the acceleration pushing them into the bulkhead as it rolled out of the way of something.
“The hells was that?” Hals asked.
“Oh, no,” was all Li-Cha said. And then Hals saw what had made the skimmer change course. Things were launching from Silver’s Culling. A half dozen huge, teardrop shaped things were being disgorged from some of the launch tubes. As they fell toward Adumon Station, Hals felt her heart sink. “What are those?” she asked.
“Drop bunkers,” Li-Cha said, her voice small. “They’re little bases. Fallback points, or forward operating positions for an invasion force. Each can hold an entire division of ground troops, and they generate their own shields so you can’t just blast them.”
The bunkers moved silently as they shot through space. They hit the atmosphere almost all at once, one aimed at the tip of each of the four crescents, and two heading for the intersection in the middle.
“We’re too late,” Hals whispered.
“Yes,” Li-Cha said.
The 100 Failures Project was started June 19, 2024 in an attempt to get me (Lucas X. Wiseman) over my fear of failure. By naming the project a collection of failures and challenging myself to write (essentially) one new piece of fiction every two days for the rest of the year, I am giving myself no option except to try very hard and still fail.
At least, that's the idea.
I don't really want the things I write to be failures, but I tend to get so afraid of writing something bad that I don't end up putting pen to paper at all... and that's even worse.
So with the encouragement from my therapist (thanks Kelly!) and my wife (love you babe) I have decided to embark upon this, a journey I almost certainly cannot complete. I'm going to try my best, I'm going to make as much as I can, and I'm not going to worry about whether it is any good or not.
