An Officer’s Duty (66 page)

Meioa Nik’ikk dipped her body in the best approximation her species had for an acknowledging nod. “I will pay for it personally,” she chittered, her translator box flavoring her words with the nuances of her meaning. “The experiment was worth the expense, in my thoughts. Shutting off the nullifying machine proved the excessive levels of KI emitted by this meioa-e exceed all prior experience. Whatever that gift is, pathic or clairant, it is…” She paused, then stated carefully, “It is
not
Human. Which begs the question of
what
you are, meioa-e.”

It wasn’t widely known in the Alliance where most psychic abilities came from, but these weren’t the average masses. The meioas around her were the psychic movers and shakers in their respective militaries, and there was one blatant conclusion which would leap immediately into their minds.

“You’re only half right, meioa,” Ia confessed in the wary quiet following that statement. “My mother was and is fully Human.” Lifting her hand, she pointed at the Solarican still leaning against the wall, looking ill. “But since I have no choice, I’ll admit my father-progenitor was one of
them
.”

The male felinoid leaning against the wall started and straightened upright. He looked around the room,
eyes wide, ears back. “Me? How could
I
be rrrelated to him? I am not evenn the same species!”

Pushing herself up from her bench, Ia leaned over the still-functional anti-psi machine. One hand rested over the sucker hand, ready to push and pull on the controls to make it work. The other lifted into the air. Energy crackled between her digits in unsubtle warning.

“Confess the truth, meioa…or I will turn
this
thing on, and give it
extra
power,” she growled.

His ears flattened full, and his teeth bared. “You wouldn’t
dare
.”

“You’re here for the same reason we are. Because
these
machines are a threat to us all,” Ia stated, while the other beings in the room glanced back and forth between the two of them in confusion. “But it’s not the same threat for you as it is for us. This just interferes with our gifts, and gives us a nasty migraine. To your kind, this…this anti-psi energy acts like a
poison
.

“Doesn’t it,
Feyori
?” Her accusation made him growl. Ia lifted her right hand higher, brightening the sparks of energy snapping between her fingertips. “Oh, no. Don’t even
think
of trying to counterfaction
me
, Meddler. You and I do want the same thing, after all: to see the source of these machines tracked down and silenced. Cooperate, and we will assist you.”

“‘We’?” he challenged her, pushing away from the wall and lacing his fingers together Solarican-style, like a Human would have crossed his arms. “You speak as if
you
werre a faction, Humann.”

“My Right of Simmerings is not yet over,” Ia reminded him. This Meddler wasn’t the one who had posed as Doctor Silverstone during her recruit days as a Marine, but she knew postcognitively that Silverstone had told the others about her. She knew that this one was aware of her temporarily sanctioned presence in the Great Game he and his kind played. “My faction is my own, counterfaction to none.
You
will cooperate in this matter.

“It is in your best interest to do so, since this machine is a threat to your kind as well as to mine. Swear yourself in faction to me,” Ia ordered him, “or swear yourself neutral, and go.”

He glanced at the guards, who were eyeing him warily. Their hands were not on the stunner guns at their waists, but
rather on the knives sheathed next to them. Physical weapons would not actually kill a shape-shifted Meddler, but Meddlers could still feel pain when wrapped in fleshy matter. And unlike a laser or a stunner, knives wouldn’t feed a Feyori, either.

It didn’t look like he was going to swear faction to her. Ia lifted her chin. “As you wish. We are neutral to each other. But your cover is now blown, meioa. You’ll find a set of power outlets behind you. Take what you need, and
go
.”

He studied her for a moment more, then unlaced his hands. Electricity arced from the wall sockets to his claw-tips, fluffing and sparking through his fur. The lights dimmed, and the hairs on everyone else started to rise in static response. A moment later, energy leaped across the room from several more outlets, slamming into the Solarican—and an eye-dazzled blink later, a large silvery soap-bubble floated in the air where the felinoid once stood.

The metallic surface swirled, darkening for a moment as it continued to absorb more arcs of energy from the wall sockets. Seconds later, it swirled further, as if turning, and soared
through
the wall, picking up speed as it left without hindrance. Wide-eyed and wary, the meioas in the room watched it go, their stunned silence speaking volumes.

The moment she was sure the Feyori had left, Ia slumped back onto the bench behind her. She rubbed a trembling hand over her face, exhausted. Not just from the efforts of proving her gifts against the nullifying ache caused by that infernal machine, but from the effort to seem strong enough to take on a full-blooded Feyori. A member of a race who could literally eat laserfire for lunch.

“So.” The single chirrup from Meioa Nik’ikk fell into the silence blanketing the hall. She chittered again, the complex programming of her translator box analyzing and filling in the nuances for her. Mostly ones of scorn. “A Feyori
half-breed
. One who understands their pol—”

“Stop.” Lifting her gaze from her palm, she glared at the spider-like alien. “Just
stop
. I will
not
let you poison the minds of everyone around you with
your
prejudices.
Think
about what I have done with my gifts, meioa.
What
, exactly, have I
done
with them?”

Her demand echoed off the walls. Righteous anger gave her
the strength to rise, the strength to cross the meters of distance separating them. Bracing her palms on the edge of the table serving duty as the K’katta psychic’s podium-platform, Ia leaned her face between the foremost legs of the alien, bringing her head within biting distance.

“Have I destroyed cities? Have I slaughtered children? Have I brought wrath and ruin? No, I have
not
. I have saved lives, meioa, at the personal expense of great pain and multiple injuries. I have strived, meioa, to be a
good
sentient being. Courageous, honorable, and compassionate. I have not sought high rank, I have not sought political power, and I have
not
tried to manipulate the people around me just for the amusement of some half-incomprehensible
game
!

“I have laid
my life
on the line for my fellow sentients, over and over and over, and I will not let you try to twist my actions into anything less than what I have
proven
them to be, over and over and
over
!” she snarled, leaning close enough to those flexing mandibles that the K’katta swayed back a few centimeters. “So before you chirp one more
word
, you will either clamp your mandibles shut and lay
your
life on the line for others, as many times as
I have
, or you will shove your personal prejudices right back up your waste orifice! Is. That. Clear. Guardian?”

Crouched low, cowed by her verbal attack, the K’katta didn’t respond. Slowly, arms threatening to tremble, Ia pushed herself back upright.

“I repeat, I am
not
a monster. I am not some sadistic, uncaring deus ex machina, sweeping in and out just long enough to carry out some incomprehensible plot to manipulate others. I am a mortal and fallible and
mostly
Human being, as I have
always
been. I may be more gifted than others,” she allowed, “but that only means I have a few more tools to work with than the average being. I make mistakes, I get hurt, but I
try
to do what is right. What all of us—Human and Tlassian and K’kattan,
all
of us—agree is
right
.

“Now, if
that
is an unforgivable sin,” she snapped, looking around the room, “then may God damn you all to hell, because my
birthright
is nothing more than one extra means to help me get it done.”

Pushing away from the table, she headed for the door. Without a word, Chaplain Benjamin rose from her seat near the
back and followed her. Ia paused a few meters from the exit and looked back over her shoulder.

“I don’t expect any of you to be able to keep all of this to yourselves, but I’ll remind you that the only reason why I rescued so many from Sallha is because the Salik
didn’t
know about my abilities. And the less they know about them, the better. So I’ll ask you to keep silent, and treat my Rankings as an Alliance secret…but I won’t hold my breath.

“The Solarican government, which currently holds custody over the anti-psi machine, has agreed to give it into my control as my war-prize for destroying the Salik high command. I in turn will be handing it over to the Terran Space Force, Branch Special Forces, for a more detailed examination of its function. I don’t care if you believe me or not,” she added, her words edged with a slight, sarcastic bite, “but I give you my word of honor that any further research conducted on it will be shared among the member races of the Alliance, and used in
our
mutual fight against the Salik. I promise we will track down the scientists who created it, and stop them from producing more.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I am still recovering from my injuries. I am tired and need to go rest.” Facing the doors, she found the Solarican guards standing in the way.

Ia stared at them. She turned her head slightly to the side, displaying the distinctive earring dangling from her right lobe. An earring bearing the royal seal and the Solarican symbols that marked her battle rank as a War Princess among their kind. They looked at it, glanced briefly at each other, and parted to either side. One of them even palmed open the door for her, politely letting her go.

Without another word, Ia strode through, Bennie following in her wake. Of all the races, the Solaricans themselves were the least skittish about dealing with the Feyori, mostly for reasons they refused to admit to the other races, though Ia herself knew. Unless and until a member of their imperial family revoked her status as a War Princess, Ia technically outranked nearly everyone else on board the Solarican Warstation. She was diplomatic enough not to abuse that rank, but if necessary, she would use it.

Bennie waited until they were in one of the nearby lifts before she spoke. “Well played, Lieutenant. Not just the
bit about quashing any rumors regarding your ‘birthright,’ but the whole revelation of your gifts.”

“Thanks. I think,” Ia muttered. “But I’ll have you know it’s not an act, Commander. I’m
not
a monster, and the only thing motivating my so-called
agenda
is the chance to save lives.”

“Relax, I believe you,” Bennie murmured back. “And I’m beginning to believe
in
you. I’m not quite sure
where
your cause is headed just yet, but at least I know you’ll do your best to keep it on the right track. You’ve earned my faith in you. Don’t abuse it.”

“Thanks.” This time, the word was uttered with more sincerity. “I wish I could tell you where it was headed,” she added as the lift car swayed to a stop, “but at this point, I’m still faced with my biggest fight.”

The doors opened and a trio of Solaricans boarded, clothed in stained coveralls and carrying tool kits and scanner equipment. They gave the two Humans cursory looks, but otherwise ignored the aliens in their midst.

“I forgot to ask. Did you get everything loaded, this morning?” Ia asked Bennie obliquely.

“It’s all stowed,” the redhead confirmed.

Relieved, Ia nodded. They weren’t on their way back to the Solarican version of an infirmary ward. Instead, they were headed for one of the docking gantries, where a civilian mail courier waited for them. Bennie had actually traveled on it this morning, flying from the
Mad Jack
, which had moved two systems away in the last few days, forced to return to its assigned position in the Blockade zone.

When the Space Force had learned that Ia had been sold to the Salik, her belongings had been prepared to be shipped back home to her family. Very few soldiers had ever returned from a formal CPE listing, before. Luck alone had caught and rerouted them back to the Interdicted Zone before the cases filled with her few belongings had reached the halfway point. Ia hadn’t unpacked much of it, just enough to don her most formal uniform yesterday. The rest, Bennie had picked up and sent to the courier ship waiting for them.

Halfway up the docking ring, Bennie slugged Ia on the arm. Yelping, Ia cupped the bruised muscles. She had only placed that possibility at less than 10 percent. “What was
that
for?”

“You’re the precog, Lieutenant. Or rather, the postcog.
You
figure it out,” Bennie muttered.

Ia didn’t have to guess all that much. “I didn’t tell you about my father because I
couldn’t
tell you, alright?
Think
about it, Commander. Meioa Nik’ikk’s reaction was only the tip of the iceberg. Even if I quelled some of it, everyone is going to be looking over my actions with a microscope and a fine-toothed comb, wondering if I’m a monster.”

“So why reveal your background now?” Bennie her.

“First of all, there is no way with a ‘bare minimum’ ranking of 84 that I
could
keep it quiet,” Ia reminded the other woman. “Something like that would always raise questions about where I got that kind of power. Second, if it had been brought up earlier in my career, I’d have been drummed out of the Service out of misguided, baseless paranoia. But by now, it has been proven, over and over again, what a massive
asset
I am to the Space Force. They can’t afford to let me go, and everyone knows it.

“And third, I
want
people to go over my record. I want them to take a good, long look at everything I have done. Nothing about me has actually changed. I’m still the same soldier I was before my background was revealed,” Ia reminded her. “But I want my Service record, both the good and the bad, to be so fresh in the minds of the Command Staff that they’ll have no choice but to
think
about all I have done so far, and all I could still do. Specifically, of what I could do for
them
in the future.”