November 24th, 825 - Battleship Apahanta, Omega-49
In the last weeks, we've been keeping a low profile. The Captain still seems to be extremely stressed by the consequences of the LSF deal and trying to get both his girlfriend, the so called former MND Operative Maren von Westefeld, and the Reaver bitch Nancy Sweetwater aka Sangria Reaver to cooperate with him. If I am to be honest, my dear diary, it seems like he is rather overprotective for people who don't seem to want his help. Or, don't deserve. In fact, it was the first time I had to question the decision of my Captain, and it reminded me of seeking the first-best opportunity to send my report to the service. So far, I didn't get the permission to leave the ship. As far as I know, that will change in two months when my trial phase is over. Then I can send it. At least I can be sure that my diary is inaccessible to them. They would never expect it to be hidden here. Hidden in plain sight.
Not-so hidden are Captain Vertiga's behavorial changes under chronical stress. Our treasure hunt was interrupted by the fact we had to pick up Sweetwater. We are moving in the most peripheral areas of the Omegas and Omicrons, most of the time hidden behind thick clouds or cloaked. Once a week the logistics pilot, Miss Hookier, arrives with her Whale to bring us new supplies. Whenever she arrived here, he and she vanished in his room for hours, with a clear hint of what they were doing there. Or in the hydroponics. Or the observation deck. It would appear that he needs these adrenalinic highs for compensation as his general mood after interactions with Miss Sweetwater seems to be rather bad. The frequency of this has been siginificantly higher than before Miss Sweetwater entered the ship.
This is more of a topic to me since the encounter I just had with him. It is rather late evening on the ship right now, and I believe the Captain was rather tired when he entered the lift I just used to reach the bridge deck. He entered and moved to lean against the wall behind me. Then the lift closed the doors and started to move. "Apahanta, please stop the lift right now." And the lift stopped between decks. I turned around to face him, giving him a lopsided look.
"Captain?" I asked him, wondering why he did that.
He exhaled through his nose, raising a hand to his head, raking his fingers through his thick black hair. He hesitated before he responded. "Apahanta, turn off the internal sensors for this lift, please." One beep and it was done.
"What's going on?" I asked him, feeling uncomfortable with him ignoring my initial question. He looked at me, and I saw how he was chewing on the inner walls of his cheeks, mostly on the right side.
"You're from Cambridge, right?" he asked me, and I swallowed for a second before nodding. "Some others are from Bretonia as well. I know they are having a good life here on my ship, you know, and don't want to be in the warzone. We're here because we want to avoid the wars and conflicts. We just want to live a nice life. But I know these people are with heart and thought still in fear for Bretonia."
"What happened, Captain?" I asked, as there must have been a trigger event to him being like that. It was pretty much the first time I had a situation like this with him, and it was one of these moments I was hoping to end up with with him. Something to work with.
"One of our drones reported about Gallia having launched a great push into New London. They attacked Birmingham Station in Manchester, invaded the New London system at Southhampton and the remote control for the Seductive Rover went offline. It took hours until the autopilot made it move to Manchester via jump hole, where it reconnected with the Apahanta. The Newcastle gate in New London is no longer connected with Newcastle and vice versa."
There was silence for a moment. Uncomfortable silence. "Gallia is now on a death march against Planet New London."
Once more, silence. I couldn't help but frown at these news, then sniff, and I believe my eyes got wet. I blinked in quick succession, trying to get the moisture out there. Another sniff. I heard him swallowing and exhaling, this time through his mouth. Then a more audible inhale. "I'll need to inform the crew about it, tomorrow in the morning. Until then the neural net connection is shut off. I need my crew to have a healthy resting time. But I had to tell someone."
I looked at him, myself exhaling slightly shaky. I found myself at a loss of words, and I was so surprised about how this hit me. I knew we would lose this war. Most of Bretonia knew it. Many pledged for surrender, many for fighting til the bitter end. Others fled. And if I am honest to myself, my dear diary, I was appreciating it when the BIS sent me to Canaria to investigate the origin of the military-grade technology Hot Gear uses for their equipment. And now I am here on the Apahanta, living a rather comfortable, luxurious life on the most pacifistic warship of Sirius. I felt bad. I feel bad.
"I... understand. Thank you for telling me about the news, Captain. That means I can prepare myself for the crew tomorrow," I said and meant it. These very bad news would heavily impact on the motivation and mood of the crew, and I would need to be able to deal with it.
"Good. Should you need anything, my door is always open for you, Abs. I'm glad you joined the crew," Ezrael said, exhaling again. God, I wanted to hug him. I was about to make a move as he opened his mouth again. "Apahanta, reactivate internal sensors and lift movement. Bridge deck, please."
So the lift moved again. It stopped at the bridge corridor and both of us exited it, stepping towards our rooms until the lights changed from blue to red. Red alert! But no sirens? No sounds? Ezrael and I ran to the bridge. Commander Aguilar sat in her chair, pointing at the main screen. We were charging the cloak. It was a silent red alert at a surprising sight...
The crew took the news better than expected. I believe most of them already sealed Bretonia's fate in their minds. More of a topic were the speculations about what the entire Battlegroup Stirling was doing in Omega-49. Some think Bretonia is trying to bring refugees to Gran Canaria, since they have Port Jackson down on the planet. Others are expecting Bretonia to attack and take over the Corsair colonies on the planet. From what I heard, Captain Vertiga informed Hot Gear COO Paige Hale to relocate the three factory ships. Apparently Miss Hale said she herself wanted to stay as she didn't believe Los Dragos would be affected by whatever will happen in the next days. I certainly hope she is right.
After getting surprised by that battlegroup, the Captain ordered to leave Omega-49 and head for Omega-2, which at this point is still very silent. In fact, I spend a nice while at the observation deck, just looking out of the windows and take in the violent beauty of various molten stellar objects. The proto-sun, the proto-planet, the asteroids. Every now and then a small rock collides with the thick shields of the ship. It was something I had to get used to in the first months, but now I don't bat an eye at it anymore. I sat on the bench, my PDA on my lap while I listened to some pop music. At some point I closed my eyes in thought, and then opened them again after a while when I felt some foreign weight on my lap. It was Captain Vertiga's head. He had laid down on his back on the bench, his head in my lap, his smiling face glancing up at my rather surprised visage. "I heard people lay down during counseling sessions, on a couch for example. I need some counseling, Abs."
I took the earbuds out and put my PDA away, slightly blushing at his typical bluntness. It was not that it was uncomfortable to me, and I guess he knew that by now already, but still, a rather surprising and intrusive move. "I'm fairly certain you're refering to extremely outdated methods of psycho therapy."
"Commodore Dagon is annoying me again. I'm afraid I can't drag it out any longer, yet I'm not sure what to tell her," he said, not really giving me the impression he would change his position any time soon. It was alright, though.
"I see. We knew it would happen. What is your opinion on it? Any tendencies?" I asked him, lamely placing my left hand on his chest, wondering whether he would have liked me to brush my other hand through his hair a bit. It was sort of inviting to do that right now.
"I struggle with saving an investment from becoming obsolete, that however risks my reputation in case two rather uncontrollable factors fuck everything up, or rely on Dagon's trustworthyness, which is also an uncontrollable factor. One way or another, I'll need to trust on one party to not fuck me up. That means by that deduction that I can't make the decision based on the conditions of success but the conditions of failure."
Listening to him actively, my other hand began to brush through his thick black hair. How nice would it have been if he had started to purr like a cat. "If I rely on Maren and Nancy playing her part and they fuck it up, my reputation with Bretonia would be at risk. I can imagine Dagon would arrange some bullshit that would cause Bretonia to break our arrangement regarding the Apahanta's flight passage through their territory. I really wouldn't want to lose the access to Bretonia. It would either mean we would always need to jump over Bretonia to get from Cortez to Omega-49 and vice versa or that we'd need to do the passage illegaly, which could fuck us over even more."
He sighed. "If I rely on Dagon, chances are she informs BPA, BAF and SIS about Nancy being alive, that the LSF news are staged and since we have the theory that Dagon is in touch with 404, which according to LSF Agent Tracer do not really cooperate with the main agency, chances are the deal with Tracer would be nullified by the Liberty Government adding Maren and Nancy to the criminal lists again. Not only that, but since these fuckers of the LSF painted Maren as known MND agent and terrorist cooperator, everything could end up worse than the status quo like that. And then there is the fact that Bretonia was already suspicious about Maren as Auxesia told Bretonia that she was infected until we got Auxesia scan her to learn the opposite. Bretonia could ask why Maren was involved into these faked news, and I'd need to explain to them that Maren visited Nancy in an LSF hospital where Nancy got a very shitty neanderthalensic treatment and, so that Maren decided to kidnap Nancy and possibly threatened LSF personnel."
He frowned up at my chest, and I assumed he didn't realize himself he was staring at my boobage. "It is a disaster. I either need to lock up Maren and Nancy to prevent them from doing anything that could fuck me over, or I tell Dagon the truth. And hope for the best."
My hand moved up to his forehead, then cupped his cheek for a moment. He was in a seriously unfortunate situation, but I had my own opinion on it. In the end, Dagon was right to question his loyalty. He was hiding two criminals. They weren't dangerous at all, but still, he was preventing justice. From Bretonia's point of view, he was not in the position to judge over them, which is what he does on the Apahanta. And how could one trust someone who operates on a different plane of legislative, judicative and executive? I inhaled, then exhaled audibly. My sympathy for him and the things he does were trying to make me find a solution in his favor. My job as agent of the BIS demanded me to do the opposite. At least, that was what I felt. "I see your troubles, Captain, really. You want to protect the two women you love. You do love them, right?"
The focus of his eyes shifted from my chest to my eyes. He hesitated for a moment. "I love Maren. Nancy is just a friend, I admittedly slept with. Five times, I think."
"I thought abou-"
"Six times, I think, actually. Her tongue is really talented."
I looked down at him, frowning while exhaling audibly through my nose. Details I didn't want to hear in that moment. "I thought about it, Captain, and listened to some opinions and perceptions of the crew on your relationships with Miss von Westefeld and Miss Sweetwater, and I have made some experiences with Miss Sweetwater, given I spent a few hours with her. I do believe you when you say you love at least Miss von Westefeld, Captain, as despite how often I heard that you frequently complain about her, you still are saying you are in a relationship with her. Despite her adopting a child without asking you."
He was about to say something but I placed my index finger in his lips. "Hear me out first, please. I know I might be wrong with my observations, but I would like you to listen to me first and then think about whether what I say is accurate or not and how it makes you think about it." He nodded after a few seconds, and I continued. "From a psychological point of view, your relationship with Miss von Westefeld contradicts your behavorial patterns entirely. The integrity of the relationship seems to be lacking entirely, too, from what I gathered. There are weeks of you and her not having had any contact. She adopts a child without your consent. And from what I heard, she is not taking the situation serious enough for you to think she would be reliable enough for you to not be worried about her. You call her an uncontrollable factor, Captain.
Similarly, Miss Sweetwater appears to be the exact opposite of what I heard she used to be before her multiple memory losses. From what I heard, you and her got along very well as you two shared many opinions, especially on promiscuous hedonistic sexual behavior. Now she is a stubborn, depressed, neurological damaged woman who not only is frigid and shows no sexual interest in your or her former boyfriend anymore, but believes she is required to bond with the man who took the opportunity to make her betray her former boyfriend. The arguably worst aspect of both however appears to be that they don't even value your efforts and the risks you take up on yourself and the crew of this ship in the attempt of protecting two, on paper, criminals."
There was a moment of silence, and I saw the controversial thoughts in his mind written in his face. Anger, frustration, confusion. Sadness. Resignation. I got the feeling he was uncomfortable now the way he lay, being in my grip while looking up at me, who was right. He tried his best to help them, but he didn't realize they were absolutely no longer the women he learned to know in the beginning.
"I guess my observations aren't that wrong, aren't they? They don't appreciate the things you do. The things you do to help them." And another moment of silence. At some point, he turned to the side, his face basically burrying in my belly, uncomfortably close to my underbelly. I let him. It was a hint for another observation I made. "You are putting yourself, the ship and the crew at risk for two women who don't give you anything in return. Is that fair?"
"It is not fair," his voice sounded, muffled as he was more talking to my lower body than with me. "I get your points."
"I've also noticed that you react sexually in moments of mental stress. Probably in the attempt of compensating the stress with the hormones created by physical interaction and the orgasm. I'd like you to move off my lap, Captain." I knew I embarrassed him like that, and he reacted exactly the way one would expect a man who has a strong disposition between pragmatic and logical behavior as Captain and his instinctive, animalistic, libido-driven male aspect. However, just as it was uncomfortable for him to be an open book to me as a psychologist, it was uncomfortable for me to have him that close to my pelvic region just to try and get away from facing uncomfortable topics. These women were taking advantage of his naive idealism. His protective and altruistic nature. He had to understand the diabolic truth. His crew, that trusted him so much that they would risk their lifes for him, was at risk for two women who wouldn't bat an eye if the consequences for the Captain's actions in order to protect these two women would cost them their lifes.
He moved off and stood up, walking over to the panorama window. His body language suggested that he was emotionally hurt. He looked out of the window for a while and I let him do, and then he turned around, leaning with his back against the window. His body was in a strong light contrast that way. The bright variations of red behind him gave him a red silhouette filled with darkness. I placed my hands in my lap.
"You are correct with pretty much everything. It's exactly why I hate psychologists. Your kind looks at me and finds an unstable stereotype. Turns out that not even avoiding you in all these months was enough to prevent you from hitting the nail. I hate it, really."
I felt slightly nervous and my fingers began to fiddle around with each other. He didn't sound broken anymore. He sounded like he expected me to say these things, but not in a resigning, accepting way. It sounded more like he was testing my loyalty. I was irritated in this moment, looking at my hands for a moment before looking up again. "I'm merely the messenger, Captain. Psychology is all about yourself, and sometimes it takes a person that is not yourself to tell you that you know exactly who you are and what you should do."
"I don't blame you. What bugs me the most right now is that I didn't manage to seduce you before you called my compensational behavior out. I knew you were tempted multiple times, but now it'd feel like it is just to compensate the immense stress I feel. That's my big issue with your kind. You see issues, symptoms, problems and compensation in anything a normal person would enjoy. The sober mechanisms behind social interaction. I hate it. I wonder how you can live like that, knowing that everything you do is to achieve the feeling of attention, acknowledgement and treating yourself kindly because of reasons instead of just doing it. I feel absolute disgust for this."
This was the point where I was at a loss of words while at the same time getting the feeling that he must have been in therapy at some point already. This kind of behavior was either a projection of his anger that resulted from the realization that Maren and Nancy were abusing his nature, or he spent so much time with the nature of psychoanalysis that he actually broke it down to how psycholanalytical people see other people. Or both. I came to the conclusion that is was both.
"I can't deny that knowing the pattern of human psychology makes it easy for me to see through the things you do and say, Captain. I believe I can agree that it is sometimes a burden to see things like that. To break down everything into components and fragments. And to wonder why you were behaving the way you did in various interactions. It doesn't mean I don't like the things you do. I could deliver a sophisticated explanation for that, but I believe that wouldn't ease this conversation." That sentence alone was the proof that I couldn't help but think five steps ahead.
"Your job on this ship is to use your skills on my crew and help me at leading them in the best way possible. I want them to be healthy. But by all means, never overstep this again. I asked you for your opinion on what to do with Dagon, not for your opinion on my relationship with my girlfriend and that retarded bitch I keep protecting against apparently everyone else's will."
I knew he was just channeling his anger at me, but I couldn't help but look down at my lap again. In this moment, everything nice between him and me was gone, and he made clear he wanted me to be professional and nothing more. He then moved off, leaving me alone. I was certain he was trying to calm down in order to answer to Commodore Dagon. I remained seated in the observation room, staring unfocused at my lap, trying to sort out my thoughts and emotions. I was surprised at how much it hurt to suddenly have him hate me for the thing I was good at. Because he thought I was disgusted by him for what he was good at. In the end, I noticed a few tears running down my cheeks. It was awkward. I tried to remember that I was here as a BIS agent. I was here to spy on him. Why was I even thinking about him liking me?
Why did it hurt to know he was hating me? Would he ever find out about me spying on him, he would hate me anyway, and maybe he would even try to kill me. Just like Commander Aguilar killed the last counselor, who wasn't even one of our agents. I was wondering what she found out that she had to die.
The last few days were extremely awkward, my dear diary. Or, significantly. No matter what word is more fitting, I felt rather uncomfortable. I reflected about the situation at the observation deck. I tried to find mistakes I made. Tried to convince myself that I made any. Certainly, I was not diplomatic with the things I said, and could have worded things less offensive. My description of Miss von Westefeld and Miss Sweetwater. But in the end, I came to the conclusion that these people are freaks. Captain Vertiga is an opportunistic, hedonistic, borderline satyriastic, idealistic playboy who seduces women as if he was aiming for a high-score the one day and to distract himself from mental stress the next day. Miss Sweetwater is a stubborn, unthankful, egocentric woman with stress-based amnesia who just can't accept what is given and what she can't get. Miss von Westefeld, hell, I don't know. Something is weird about her. Too many unknown factors, but it is obvious that Vertiga and her have something to hide. They don't live in a healthy relationship at all, but probably think they do.
Despite of that, though, I went to his room this evening. I wanted to talk things out. We avoided each other at every occasion since things escalated. It was uncomfortable, and other than him, I am rather lonely on this ship, in a certain way. It was around 21.30 when I knocked at this door, I had a plate with some snacks I made myself with me, hoping it would sort of make things easier a bit. The door opened, but it wasn't him opening the door. It was Chief Engineer Leon Isley, in a simply white T-shirt and grey sweatpants. I heard laughter and voices from inside the room.
"It's Miss Ryan, Ez," he sounded and smirked over to them, then back at me.
"Yeah, yeah, come in, sit down," Ezrael sounded with a strained voice in the background, so I made a move and headed for the table, looking around before placing the plate on the table and taking a seat. I couldn't help but smile as I saw Captain Vertiga, Engineer Trainee Noel Bäker and Logistics Pilot Sombra Hookier on the ground on a Twister sheet. They were playing Twister! It reminded me of the hilarious Siamese Human Knot from a funny clip I once found on the neural net. Their bodies were intertwined and could have collapsed and fallen to the floor with any further move, and them constantly giggling didn't make the biological contraption seem any stable. The door closed and Chief Engineer Isley moved to the bed, jumping on it with his bum first while amusedly staring at the competition as it seemed like nobody wanted to lose the game. They were all dressed casually, as if I just stumbled over a pyjama party - which it turned out to be, as a matter of fact.
"Left foot on red," the synthetic voice of the ship's computer sounded and Noel, who was below Vertiga and Hookier, holding his miniscule body up like a reversed spider while facing the Captain's crotch, managed to carefully place his leg exactly where it was required to be. "Right foot on blue," the computer sounded and Miss Hookier, who was the upmost body in this game, placed her foot on blue.
"You fell first?" I asked the Chief Engineer, who couldn't stop grinning as the three remaining players were fighting to maintain their balance.
"Yeah. Ez and Sombs don't play fair," Leon sounded from the bed. "He licked my armpit. It's the dirtiest move one can do in this game!"
"Left foot on yellow," Apahanta sounded and Ezrael spread his legs further, bringing his groin closer to Noel's face.
"If you don't give up, I'll teabag you in the next round!" the Captain sounded and they chuckled. However, he wasn't joking and since Noel didn't manage to alter his position in the next round just enough to get his face out of the danger zone, he ended up with Ezrael's lower body at his cheek - as obviously he turned his head away, however not giving up despite being in the most unfortunate position there.
I sat there, watched it and took one of the sandwiches I made. They had loads of fun doing that game but eventually the entire contraption collapsed when Miss Hookier fell on the two bodies below her, causing Noel to suffer the weight of two bodies on his own. They laughed in delight and Miss Hookier pecked the young boy on his cheek as a little reward.
It was soothing to see those four people having fun like that, and I, if I was honest, wished I was part of that. Noel and Sombra moved up to join Leon on the bed, and the girl was obviously enjoying to intimidate Noel with her proximity to him, which caused him to get rosy cheeks. In the meantime, Ezrael sat down at the table with me, obviously in a good mood. "So, what brought you here this time? With snacks?"
"I, eh, I simply wanted to talk, you know. We're adult people but avoided each other in the recent days. Maybe we could return to normalcy again. Talking about things." And I hoped it would be just that simple. He smirked at me for a moment, obviously considering in his mind what to say. Eyeing the little sandwiches I made, he then began to talk.
"I talked with Commodore Dagon, Abs. Told her that the two women in question are as dead as they are required to be, and she understood it the way she was supposed to. It was a bit awkward, but it worked. In fact, I got the feeling she is sort of happy about the deal. After all, she is more of a Reaver than she tries to make everyone believe. With that burden off my shoulders and a few days off from Nancy and Maren, I do feel quite good right now. Maybe it's the wine, though. Or the fact I am having fun with my friends here right now." He grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a bite while inspecting it afterwards.
"That... is good, but it doesn't really answer my question, Captain." I gave him a lopsided look.
"Mhell, uhm r mot a mempal caf po you?" he asked me. It was a bit difficult to decypher since he decided to speak non-challantly with his mouth filled. Probably because the response would have taken a while longer as he took the peanut butter sandwich, which stuffed his mouth with sticky taste.
"Every single person on this ship is a mental case just like any other person beyond the ship's hull. I can deal with most of them, so I think I can deal with you as well, Captain. In fact, I have to, because the payment is great. And lots of other reasons. What I mean to say is, I don't feel uncomfortable around you, despite the things you said back then. And I hope it's the same the other way around." Saying it like that sort of felt childish, to be honest. Especially with him having his mouth stuffed with the peanut butter sandwich.
"Mweah," he said, and I felt like he purposely said that with his mouth filled. He smirked at me, which looked funny given he was chewing on the sticky mass. Then he placed a hand on my knee, and I looked down at it. "You should join us for this evening, Abs. I can't say yes and then send you away while we're having the time of our lifes here."
Was it that simple? I was confused about it, but in that very moment, I took the invitation. Gladly. So I stayed there, and we played a crazy round of Twister, then ate some late night snacks while watching a funny superhero parody, I don't remember the name right now. It was hilarious, though. And then I saw something that heavily impacted my view on him. I was rather sleepy when the movie was over and realized that Sombra, Noel and Leon had been dozing off already. Sombra at his side, with her head on his chest and an arm on his belly, and under the blanket a leg between his. On the other side, Noel, his head at his shoulder, his arms slung around Ezrael's arm. Leon lay behind Sombra, rather close to her. Ezrael looked over to me as I took in the scene of these people being physically and socially so very close to each other. It was something I needed to document, as this was a not so regular social proximity grade between people.
"I'd have liked to take a little walk with you after the movie but you see I'm sorta restrained right now," he sounded quietly, refering to Sombra and Noel. "You can sleep here, if you want."
The bed, by all means, was large enough for twice as many people to sleep there. Yet I felt like this was a bit too much for me at this moment. It was fun to stay with them. I felt relaxed and we all laughed. And I felt rather cozy when I looked at the bunch of people. They liked each other so much. Part of me wanted to stay. Part of me wanted to return to my room and reflect about all this. I was spying on these people. Treating them like possible threats to Bretonia. "Maybe next time, Captain."
So I quietly stood up left the room, returning to mine. I felt light-hearted until I reached it and took my Holotainment Band to record this. I wonder if I should have stayed with them. I'm fourty years old and very likely not going to make a family anymore. Maybe I could have joined theirs.
I should go to bed. I get emotional when it's late. Good night, my dear diary.
The Apahanta was remaining in Omega-49, simply to keep an eye on the situation with Bretonia and the other neighbouring forces. Remaining hidden in a peripheral ice field rather far outside of Omega-49's usually populated space, we simply did what we usually did. The engineering team was working on something big for a few weeks now and I don't have the clearance to know about it. Nevertheless I tried to poke some information out of the crew whenever it was convenient, be it during a counseling session or anythig else. All I found out, however, was that the science team was working on decrypting, translating and analyzing the data Captain Vertiga received from the Core Captain Richard. Apparently a big Cultist data cache, including multiple hyperspace coordinates. The problem with hyperspace coordinates from untrusty scources was simple: If anything is wrong about them, they might lead to the center of a sun, a planet, a dense asteroid field, a neutron star, a black hole, etc. You get the idea, my dear diary.
I'm pretty sure the University of Cambridge would be interested in the discoveries that could be made by using the hyperspace coordinates, though. Should I ever get a copy or anything about it, I'll make sure they get it. Nobody said the Core didn't sell the information to other people as well, right?
To be honest, however, I was frequently thinking about last night. I was wondering whether there were other people in a similarly close social proximity to Captain Vertiga. I know Miss Hookier is in love with him, that Leon Isley his best friend and Noel Bäker his protegé. They slept together in one bed, close to each other. A strong bond. Was this similar with Miss von Westefeld? Was the relationship with Miss Sweetwater similar, or was it like that in the past? I had my talks with Miss Sweetwater, every time hiding my hatred for her. In fact, I sometimes felt like I should stop being so adamant about considering her as a criminal. A terrorist. The medical report on her is evidental. Her brain is fucked up.
Earlier today I entered the hydroponics, simply to take a break and enjoy the fresh, unfiltered air. The Hydroponics are usually a bit cooler than the rest of the ship, which is sometimes a nice change when you can't stand the curacaoan climate the Captain prefers to emulate on the Apahanta. I didn't know it until I interrupted them, as Noel and Sombra were on a lounger, he laying with both legs hanging off on the left side, while Sombra sat on the edge of the right side, leaned towards him. Once more she seemed to have been intimidating him with her physical proximity to him, yet as soon as they noticed I was there, she took some distance and removed her hand from his thigh. He was blushing heavily, which was always sort of sweet to observe as he was the kind of young man who didn't know how to handle such situations with sovereignity. Miss Hookier, on the other hand, seemed to make use of it for her own entertainment. She stood up, booping his nose while doing so and passed by, leaving the hydroponics. Noel however remained in his lounger and exhaled audibly. I moved over to him, laying down in the lounger next to him.
"Miss Hookier seems to be interested in you. Are you two are couple?" I asked him, knowing that was not the case since she was more interested in Captain Vertiga. Nevertheless I wanted to know what was going on between these two, and people usually tend to clarify a situation the moment a situation is described in a wrong way.
"N-no!" the twentythree years young boy exclaimed, his hands together on his lower belly while pulling his legs closer. "She's uhm. We're just friends. She's just, uh, triggering me. You know. Toying."
"She is toying with you? What does that mean?" I asked him, smirking about his antics.
"Well, toying. Like, imagine you lost a bet and someone is constantly reminding you and hinting that you still owe them the payout. That's what she does."
I chuckled about that. "And? Did you lose a bet with her?"
"No! She does it anyway!" Poor boy. With other words, what he didn't want to say was he was getting blueballed by her. He was hiding his crotch with his hands, and I was pretty certain he had a reason for it. I couldn't help but chuckle more about it and made it myself more comfortable, looking up at the apple tree we have here on the ship. A battleship with an apple tree. Pink lady, I believe.
"Don't you enjoy it when women flirt with you, Noel?" I asked him. I couldn't imagine it wasn't boosting his ego when this happened. And Miss Hookier would probably not do it if there was a certain spark. There Curacaoans are weirdly oversexed. Meanwhile, the poor Noel was trapped for years with his parents on a Rheinland ship in space, not really allowing him to get many contacts. Pretty much a cultural shock. Being with Ezrael was probably uncomfortable sometimes for him in the first weeks.
"I-I, eh, I mean, I do? But eh," he stammered, his cheeks turning rosy again, signaling how uncomfortable it was for him to talk about these things. "Look, she is just joking. It's not like, uhm, as if that was serious."
"Then just roll with it? You have nothing to lose, right?" I suggested, thinking it would definitely help him to not offer more vulnerable spots than necessary. "Your Captain is like that as well. He does it for the fun."
And then something happened that I didn't expect. Noel remained silent for a few moments. I turned my head to look over to him. He blinked over and over again, and I realized why. He tried not to cry. I remembered that something horrible had happened before I joined the crew, and that he was the one who suffered from it the most. The girl he was in a relationship with was infested, took the control of the ship and the crew hostage and forced them to threaten Nick Stenn's daughter. At the end of the fourth act, Stenn's daughter died, together with Lorena Hawkins, who was Noel's girlfriend. "I-I'm not ready for these things yet..." he sounded rather quietly. "Scheiße. Ich heul ja schon wieder..." Shit, I'm crying again...
"Are you alright, Noel?" I asked him, inwardly cursing as I didn't have tissues with me while he hid his eyes in shame behind his arm. "I'm sorry for bringing it up. I shouldn't have been pushy about this topic."
"It's okay," he said quietly, sniffing. "I have it under control. Just a short outburst... bin nun mal 'ne Heulsuse..." am simply a crybaby...
Whenever he was talking more to himself, he switched to rheinlandian. Self-preservational behavior, in scenarios like these. Generally he switched to rheinlandian whenever he didn't get the time to prepare a sentence, despite being fluent and almost without an accent. Every now and then one could hear him struggle with the english th or his rather hard r. Nevertheless he tried his best to hide his rheinlandian origin. "You're a tough man, Noel. And even the toughest are allowed to be sad. Remember that Ezrael told you that there is no shame on this ship."
"It is just so... it was so abrupt, you know? I had a wonderful night with her and in the next morning my entire body hurts, blood is all over my throat, my jaw felt like it it was broken, I was carried to the med-bay and the next time I wake up, Ez tells me that she died, and later I find out what actually happened. That I had an alien inside me... but the worst is that I didn't get to say goodbye. She simply died and I didn't even get to see her dead body. Apparently that Forlorn guy shot her into pieces. I miss her so much. I can't think of being with any other woman. I still love Lorena..."
More tears ran down his cheeks. More sniffing sounds. A tragic story. A wound only time would be able to heal. To me, this was the most plausible explanation to Noel's relationship with Captain Vertiga. In my first sessions with Noel I actually thought he was admiring the Captain in a homosexual way, simply from his mentions of him and the anime drawings he did of him. While I am not entirely sure whether a certain root of this admiration isn't an actual thing for Noel, I believe Vertiga is more of a best friend slash big brother to him. His arms were slung around Vertiga's arm last night and his head at Vertiga's shoulder. For two grown up men in a non-homosexual friendship rather rare as the first implication made by strangers would be about homosexuality. I would generally like to know their opinions on homosexuality. Maybe it is a curacaoan thing to not be homophobic.
I gave him time to collect his demeanor again. If I was honest, I wanted to comfort him, give him a hug, but I didn't know whether it was okay for him to get embraced by me at this point. Instead, I couldn't help but think about my work on the Eternity project during my studies at the University of Cambridge. I thought it was a good distraction. "Did you ever read about the Eternity Project, Noel?" I asked him, and after some sniffing, he replied with a simple no. So I continued and explained. "Many people from other houses study at the University of Cambridge, and some of them with a subsidy from corporations like Kishiro Technologies or Ageira. During my time at the UoC, Eternity was reaching a stadium where my job was to observe people who interacted with Eternals."
I sighed, shaking my head. "Eternity is a program that tries as best as possible to recreate a human mind as an AI. But it is not trying to convert a human into an AI, but simply intelligently copying them. To achieve that, test subjects had to make use of about one thousand Holotainment Bands programmed with incredibly realistic long-term scenarios which often contained one or multiple dilemma situations. These dilemma situations are usually forcing subjects to make extreme decisions that allow Eternity to shape the profile of the recreated human mind. Regular surveys and interviews would never manage to make subjects answer honestly. So scenarios were required. Even I myself experienced some of these scenarios for my studies. About two hundred of them, actually, and some of them are extreme. The more scenarios a subject managed to finish, the more data were aquired to shape the Eternal. The recreated mind.
At some point, we had to face a unique scenario. One of the subjects died outside the project's environment, and another subject was in love with him. She asked whether she could interact with the Eternal of him. His Eternal was fed with the information of about 560 scenarios, meaning the Eternal was very close in their behavior and decisionmaking as the actual subject. However, the Eternals are self-aware. They know they are just a simulation with extremely detailed mechanics to react to everything they encounter. When the girlfriend began to treat the Eternal like the real subject, and the Eternal reminded her that they were not real, she became sad and frustrated, as the entity that was just like her former boyfriend rejected her. The UoC at some point refused to allow her any further interaction with the Eternal and banned her from the Eternity project. And she turned insane, knowing there was this entity that was just like her boyfriend and she was not allowed to see it. She was in love with it, more than ever, as not even death was able to divide them.
The Eternal, despite having an extremely adaptive and well-shaped human mind, however didn't feel what a human would feel. No hunger, thirst, no longing for social interaction. It reacted. It didn't act. Eventually, her therapist convinced her to realize this. The Eternal did not long for her. It was just her longing for it. It was just a copy. She tried to return to a normal life, however had a final request. In an audience with the head staff of the UoC and the lead scientists of the Eternity project, she and her therapist asked for her Eternal to be copied into the digital space her boyfriend's Eternal was residing in. Because she wanted the part of her that was missing him so much to stay with him. And so it was done. The two Eternals are probably even today still in the same neural weave and react together to whoever is communicating with them. And the subject is living a happy life on Cambridge with her new family. A man she met at her new office, and she has a son, named after her big love."
I smiled at Noel, and he back at me. I didn't tell him that the entire family died during the Reaver terrorist attack on Cambridge six years ago. He didn't need to know.
"A nice story..." he sounded, his voice still a bit shaky. "You were her therapist, right?"
"No." Yes. And I would make that Reaver bitch would pay for it.
December 17th, 825 - Battleship Apahanta, Omega-49
Doing what we did in the recent days was extremely weird. The Apahanta was still sitting in Omega-49, waiting for the next move to happen. The situation planetside was becoming worse as the Zoners split up more and more from within, one side leaving the planet, one side staying to welcome the Bretonians, one side staying to welcome the Bretonians with gunfire. Despite the chaotic situation, Los Dragos was mostly keeping calm while Las Palmas and other smaller settlements had problems with people igniting their houses and causing damage to not allow Bretonia to take over their infrastructure. We didn't receive much news on the Apahanta as Commander Aguilar didn't want us to become invested into the situation. Which was weird, given we were fully aware of the many, many ships entering and leaving the planet from all sides. Corsairs evacuating their colony, Zoners doing the same, OSI bringing supplies down and bringing smaller groups out of the system. The observation deck was rather well visited.
So I decided to go there and just look out of the windows as well. It was late night. Blue light replaced the usually white light through the corridors, signaling night time. When I arrived at the observation deck, I was surprised to see Vertiga and his girlfriend Maren there. He had pushed her against the windows, preventing her from escaping by caging her with his own body. I realized they were making out in a more romantic way. Passionate kisses lasting many seconds. His right hand at the window surface supporting his position, his left hand at the back of her head. Her hands under his T-shirt, touching his athletic upper body. I caught myself looking at it longer than it was polite. Admittedly, it was nice to look at. A bit like in a movie. Nevertheless, I turned around and left again. His girlfriend rarely visited him on the Apahanta, so I figured I shouldn't disturb them.
Matter of factly, she and her daughter left in the very morning, not even staying for breakfast. The Captain seemed to be normal, neither sad nor happy about it. I joined him at the breakfast table, sitting down right next to him with my tablet while more and more people slowly arrived to fetch their food. We had a good view from where we sat, and seeing these people with bed eyes was always something soothing as they looked normal in the morning. During dinner, they usually were louder, more active. "When was the last time you wore a bikini?" he asked me after a moment of silence. The question came out of nowhere, and it didn't sound like it was something he said to provoke me the way he'd usually done it. I hesitated to answer him, simply because I was wondering where he wanted to go with this question.
"Half a year, maybe? And you?" I asked him, which caused him to chuckle for a moment.
"I need to fetch a data crystal from the Hot Gear HQ building, and would like to combine the mandatory visit of the planet with, well, the probably final opportunity to go swim on Canaria. I thought you might be interested joining me," he explained and looked at me. He wasn't wearing his Apahanta suit today but instead one of his rather excentric outfits. Black and white sport shoes, rather revealing black leather pants, a white longshirt with a skull on it and his leather jacket. He really was the best example of clothes making the man. Like that he looked like he was about to go to a concert. I guess it was this bad boy image that impressed women, especially younger ones. It didn't work for me, though. I was pretty certain the room temperature was just higher than usual.
With my undivived focus not being on him but on my breakfast, I smiled and nodded while taking the tea spoon to fill some sugar into my cup. "Sounds good to me, Captain," I said, adding more sugar. "Where, though? Beach?"
"No. I know some hot springs not too far away from Los Dragos. We'd basically take the Attractive Rover down to the spaceport, then take a taxi to the Hot Gear HQ, get the data, then get some fitting clothes from the storage and then have a nice ride..." He seemed to be confused by something. "... with... uhm..." He chuckled. "We'll have a ride over to the hot springs and then relax a bit there. You can swim there, you can just enjoy the warm water, and chances are there won't be a single other person, for obvious reasons."
"You mean the upcoming invasion?" I asked him and wondered what was going on with him as he didn't stop smirking.
"Yes. By the way, Abs, how much tea did you want to have with your sugar?"
I gave him a flat look at then realized that my multitasking skills had failed me, as I mindlessly filled sugar into my cup. I stopped, blushing slightly, and he took my spoon, ramming it gently into the cup and we both realized how it was upright standing, being held by a mountain of sugar at the bottom of the cup, reaching to the middle.
Admittedly, when he invited me, I saw a chance there. "When do we start?" I asked him, wondering how much time I'd have to prepare a message to Weber, as he was probably waiting for my report, possibly thinking I was dead. I'd have needed to extract the data from the holotainment band, prepare a quick message to Weber and then just wait for an opportunity when we were planetside to send the message from any PDA, plus destroying evidence. This was a chance.
"Well," he said and stood up, taking me by the hand. "right now, or else Sombra invites herself to join us. And I'd prefer, for once, to spend some time with you alone, if you understand. Without Sombra at my side." He guided me out of the canteen, the tray simply remaining on the table. I didn't resist as he was gentle about it. Unfortunately, he wasn't leaving me any opportunity to fetch the data I was planning to send to the intelligence service. We were straight heading for the hangar bay...
December 17th, 825 - Planet Gran Canaria, Omega-49
In the recent days, Sombra had been at Vertiga's side whenever the opportunity was there. Even when his girlfriend Maren was there, she marked her territory. I was fully aware of the kind of relationship these three people had with each other and that it was most fortunate for the Captain to have these women sharing him with each other, which I consider sort-of degenerate, if I am honest. However, I did understand that he wanted to spend some time with probably anyone else.
And here I was, sitting in the crowded cockpit of a Hussar-class Light Fighter. The Attractive Rover. On his lap. Ezrael was right behind me, leaning back in the seat while probably grinning the entire time as I didn't know I'd sit like this for the next minutes until we reached the spaceport. Admittedly, he didn't make any jokes about it. I didn't feel uncomfortable. And most importantly, I didn't feel his schlong poking my butt. It was almost like a long lasting hug from behind. Sometimes it was just nice to have a warming body behind you.
The spaceport was well visited at this point of time, and it felt surreal to see so many people entering the Dromedary next to our launch pad. A large group of people, and they all wanted to leave for the OSI Liner at the mooring fixture. Not paying too much attention, the Captain took me by the hand again and lead me away from the Rover, over to the hovercabs. A few minutes later we left the cab again and found ourselves in the Hot Gear HQ, which looked rather abandoned. Only a few kishiro security robots left, trying to create the impression of the building still being occupied. I was wondering whether Paige Hale would be in the office. We entered the elevator to reach the upper story, and while we were in that lift, I looked to the side, at the mirroring wall of the lift, seeing myself in this skin-tight black and blue Apahanta suit, next to this rich playboy of a Captain, and I realized I was still holding his hand. My cheeks were red. My eyes wandered to his projection in the mirror, looking up at him. He seemed lost in thoughts. I used to assume he had only dirty thoughts in mind, given he had a sort of comfortably intimidating something to himself. Something that made people look at him in a sympathetic way. A certain something.
The door opened and we walked over through the hallway to the office of Miss Hale, but she wasn't there. He let go of my hand and moved to the desk, sat down in the chair of the CEO and opened the drawers. One of them was locked. His hand slipped into the pocket of his leather jacket to retrieve the matching key. The drawer opened and Ezrael took what I assumed we came for. A data crystal. And as quickly as it was revealed, it was hidden again in his jacket's pocket. "What's on it?" I asked him, and he turned towards me, smirking while approaching me.
"The only piece of evidence linking Hot Gear and the Apahanta." Once more he took my hand and we headed back to the elevator again, leaving the office as quick as we entered it. "The more independent the company is from my name, the less likely it is that my enemies attack uninvolved people. I wouldn't want to have Hot Gear employees taking damage from my actions against Order and Lane Hackers. Not that there are many actions," he said and looked at me. I was however not meeting his eyes but looking at our hands. He then let go of me, smirking.
"And they are only after you because of the mistakes of others?" I asked him, always having wondered whether it was something he did that made them aware of him.
"As for the Lane Hackers, that is entirely Auxesia's fault combined with Goro Yoshida's stubbornness and stupidity. I denied his mania-interrogation and ever since then any Lane Hacker patrol showed hostilities towards us. That being said, the kill-counter on both sides is zero. Hopefully it stays that way." The lift doors opened again and we left it, heading for the storage area. I remembered the hall very well. Months ago, I had to change in there to replace my dirty dress with a Hot Gear hoverbiking suit. The latter was still on the Apahanta. The former... was still here? Folded on one of the desks. I moved over to fetch it. A bit dust on it, but otherwise it was just like I left it - with a dirty spot at the bum, from falling into a puddle. Sighing, I put it back. We came here for trunks and bikini. For a moment, I had lost Ezrael, but I figured he wouldn't let me alone here. Instead I looked through the many tall storage shelves and racks. I found so many cool things I'd have liked to just pilfer and take with me to the Apahanta, but so did Ezrael in the neighbouring hall. "Come over here, Abs!" he shouted with a little echo to it. So I did as he asked.
To my surprise, while knowing Hot Gear evacuated from Canaria, there were still some crafts here. And Ezrael leaned right next to one hell of an expensive looking hovercar. Sportsy model, black with a tint of purple, highly reflective, black glass - the hovercar looked like it was the result of one of those pimp-my-ride shows from Liberty. His big fucking grin was saying more than necessary: We'd use this craft.
After us having gotten everything we needed from the storage, we stuffed everything into the luggage compartment and then entered the car. We closed the door and I took in the new car smell. This was weirdly amazing. Couldn't help but glancing over to Ezrael, who was audibly exhaling as our eyes met. "You'd think one would get used to such things at some point," he merely sounded, relaxed like a block of butter in the sun. I chuckled, feeling weird about it as well.
"How many women ended up with their head in your lap when you entered a car like this with them?" I asked him in jest, and his content smile answered the question without a word. "I almost forgot how this kind of stuff used to be considered the non-plus-ultra of luxury to have in life. And then I joined your crew, on a very modern and luxurious warship. Still, I think we all dreamed of sitting in such a car one day."
"The pinnacle of design," he just sounded quietly, his hand feeling the steering wheel. "The difference between what I used to have on Curacao and this is the efficiency. This hovercar looks great, is fast and efficient. That's why Hot Gear is so successful. The best of the Apahanta, scaled down and compressed into hovercrafts like these, cheap to build, expensive to sell. Almost all over Sirius by now, with the exception of non-house planets."
His hand moved to the key on the dashboard. Shortly afterwards, the engine began to purr. The hovercab began to levitate over the ground and began to move to the large shutters. They moved up automatically, and I was able to see the anticipation in Ezrael's face. He was smirking like a child on christmas. Just like that, our little journey to the hot springs he told me about began.
December 17th, 825 - Planet Gran Canaria, Omega-49
The black windows were extremely helpful. Gran Canaria had no nights because of two bright suns and the Barrier reflecting so much light, there was no natural shadow on the planet. I know it was something Ezrael hated about the planet, and I can only guess how weird that must be for the incoming bretonian invaders to experience the exact opposite of Leeds and New London on Canaria. Cambridge wasn't like that, fortunately, so I didn't grow up in constant rain like the people of New London, or in corrosive rain like the people of Leeds. On Cambridge, there was day and there was night.
I sat in my seat, looking out of the darkened windows, taking in the incredible view of Gran Canaria's surface. Most people thought it was a cold world, but that is not true. There are many mountains, yes, visible from space, but climate in the regular leveled areas was as ideal as it could be. The seat was heated from within, and after a few minutes of flying, Ezrael seemed to have remembered them having a massage function - I know exactly that this was the kind of stuff he added himself to the designs. In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised if there was a function to make the hovercar hump up and down. So I sat in the vibrating seat and just let things happen. It was comfortable and I couldn't hide a certain excitement about all this. As always, he managed to make things amazing.
I threw a glance over to him, sitting almost sideways in the seat to not get overexcited, if you know what I mean, my dear diary, and realized him not smiling anymore. He looked pretty mind-absent. Again I began to wonder what it was that happened in his mind in these moments. There were things I didn't know about. At some point, I'd find out. There was more weight on his shoulders than just the Apahanta.
We lost altitude, and I saw the hot springs Ezrael must have been refering to. Abandoned in the middle of a forest, a stream of water, steaming. There were traces of this area having been visited a few times by other people, as there were benches and a few small huts, but nothing else. In fact, I had the feeling that if one was stranded here, it would take a day to reach Los Dragos again by foot. Maybe even two. How exciting!
My muscles felt weird as I waddled out of the hovercar and took in the view. The light was suddenly more intense than behind the dark windows, so my eyes had to adjust. Ezrael had moved to the luggage compartment. "Sherry told me about this place when we met on Yaren. Back then when it still was possible, we went here a few times. Sadly, nowadays that is impossible, as we can't leave the Apahanta together anymore. One of us needs to stay," he said. I turned around to get closer to him, and then instandly turned back again.
"Uhm, I was expecting you to, you know, change in one of these huts or something," I told him, having turned away just as he opened his pants.
He merely chuckled. "By all means, Abs, you've seen all this more often than you'd like to admit it," Vertiga commented, and I rolled my eyes. I gave him his two minutes to change, then he walked off to the little steaming lake. Peeling myself out of the skin-tight rubberesque overall, I watched him stepping into the water. It looked like it was actually in a good temperature. Then he took a dive. With him being all the way over there, I thought it was a good opportunity to fish the PDA out of the pocket of his jacket. I needed to inform Weber about the current situation. Just a quick message. Something. But my plan failed as his PDA was password locked. What could a man like him use as password?
"A... pa... han... ta..." But the PDA merely beeped in disagreement. Being careful about it, I looked over to Ezrael, who was happily swimming around in the water. So I gave it another try. "Cu... ra... ca... o..." Another fail. "Saint... De... nis..." Gallic Wine, also a fail. I had to admit it, I had no idea what kind of password a man like him would use. Something naughty? Some... "Mo... ney... shot..." And then! A circle on the screen appeared! It was rotating! Ten seconds later, I got informed that I failed for the fourth time and had to wait half an hour before trying again. Half an hour! Logical consequence: I had to make sure Ezrael wouldn't return to the PDA for half an hour at least. I placed it back in his jacket's pocket and looked over to him again. He was still in the water, swimming without paying any attention to me. Enough time left to check the other items in his pockets. The inner pocket of his leather jacket contained a credit card and a few wrapped condoms, the other pockets a very flat wallet which only contained a few cards and his ID, a hair scrunchy in black and the data crystal he fetched from the Hot Gear HQ. I took a look at it, but there was only so much information to gain from the looks of it. Slightly disappointed, I put everything back where I found it and but the bikini on. Black, and actually not revealing too much. Still, I was lucky to have shaved myself two days before.
The water was nice. I thought the steam would mean it was rather hot, but it was just nice. It was almost clear, slightly blue-greenish. Slightly salty despite being a small lake connected to a river. The river was probably originating in some salt mountain. It was a good feeling on the skin. I sat down at some rocks in the water that looked like people smoothed them out to sit comfortably on them, and Ezrael moved over to me, sitting down right next to me. "What took you so long?" he asked me with a calm voice, looking down at my body in the water.
I smiled at him, feeling slightly light-headed from the water. The heat was powerful. "I was searching your wallet for valuable items." I figured telling him that would make it less likely for him to suspect me to actually have exactly done that and more.
He smirked at me and placed his arm around my back. I leaned against it. "And, did you find something?"
"Yes, evidence. Turns out you're behind chancellor Niemann's assassination. And you thought you could trick everyone into believing the Order was behind it." He chuckled. "Can't trick this girl, Mister Vertiga."
"Caught me red-handed!" He smirked at me and pulled me a bit closer to himself, thighs touching. "The SIS seems to work hand in hand with the University of Cambridge. Looks like I accidentally hired one of their agents to work for me."
As he said that, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. Slowly I turned my head more in his direction, for a moment believing he knew about it. A chill ran down my spine. The hand of his arm behind me stroke my shoulder slightly. "To be fair, I always was afraid we'd end up with spies on the Apahanta. So I decided to let Hot Gear make in-depth background checks on the candidates that could be useful on the Apahanta. It worked, and now I have a few wonderful crew members you basically recommended. And yourself," he said, placing a kiss on my cheek. "I hope you can bear my personality, Abs, because without people like you, I couldn't trust my own crew. I am absolutely dependant on reliable, loyal, mature and professional people like you. It's good to have you on the Apahanta."
I realized he was joking about the SIS agent thing. My heart was beating wildly. He placed his head in my neck for a moment. Not to kiss me or something. He was actually showing appreciation for me. It was awkward. I was working against him, and he was convinced of the opposite. It made me feel bad. Guilty. He was not a bad guy. It was just that people abused his chivalry. Just like I just did. "Pardon me for being sentimental, Abigail, but I wanted to tell you..."
December 17th, 825 - Planet Gran Canaria, Omega-49
He moved his head off my shoulder and scooted a bit away from me, keeping his arm behind me, though. My heart was still pounding harder than he did his girlfriend last night. Was I acting suspicious? I felt uncomfortable while I should feel relaxed and comfortable. It was just this realization. He said, in jest, he expected me to be working for Weber - which is what I do! And I was all alone out here with him. Just him and me. If he had known it was the truth, he could have killed me right here and nobody would have found me anytime soon!
But then again, he could have killed me anytime on the Apahanta as well. No, he was not after me. At least not like that. What he said was probably the truth. He wanted to show appreciation for my loyalty...
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked me, breaking the silence, and I gave him a flat look. So I came up with something.
"No, not at all. It is just... weird. Bretonia is going to lose the war, and as Bretonian, I probably should feel some patriotistic spirit and take care of bretonian soldiers. Instead I sit here with a rich playboy of a Captain, enjoy all these nice things with him and live on a luxurious battleship that never joins a fight. But right now I sit here and enjoy all these things and feel no pity for Bretonia anymore, knowing they will just take this planet, you know?"
"Stretch out your legs."
Another flat look, but I did as he said, and he moved away from me to my feet. He stood in the water and looked at me while kneading them. It tickled slightly, but I tried not to signal it to him. "Bretonia will fall, Abs. One way or another. Doesn't matter if you are there or on the Apahanta, just like it doesn't matter whether the Apahanta joins Bretonia in the battle or not, even with the Apahanta being way more modern than any battleship Bretonia currently maintains. The loss of the war is absolutely inevitable at this point, and annexing Omega-49 won't get Bretonia anywhere. They probably thought they get some resources out of this, but even with all the Deuterium of this system, they won't be able to build new battlegroups in time. Instead they fucked with O-49's neighbours and lost sympathy all over Sirius for claiming the last neutral world out there in the known colonies. Whoever thought this was a good idea must have been completely out of their mind. Liberty joins the battle in New London and Bretonia sends a battlegroup away to ignite even more war."
What he said was true. The issue was that he was massaging my feet while saying this, so I didn't really focus on it. "It is a fact, Abs. Bretonia has lost already, and in their desperate last hours, they fucked over themselves in a way that is most likely to cause a big aftermath even when Gallia conquered New London, Cambridge and Sprague. By all means, my dear counselor, I think you are more lucky and clever to have joined us, who are not involving themselves into this stupid war. We don't try crush the glacier. We move around it. If the Zoners are clever, they do the same, but by all means, the only clever Zoner I got to meet was Finn McCool."
Truthbomb. I smirked at him. Any other person would have judged him to talk like this about his allies. The truth is, his allies would never do anything to his protection. The Zoners provide resources, Bretonia an exclusion from the law about foreign capital ships. Instead they spied on him, right in this moment. Hidden in plain sight. "I guess you're right."
"Of course I am. It's not hard to see the obvious." That is where you were wrong, Ezrael. There was a moment of silence, and eventually he let go of my feet, watching them sink into the water. I looked up at him, he down at me. "Do you like it?"
"Yes," I sounded and grinned for a moment, then lowered my focus to his chest as it was over water right in that moment. I sunk a bit more into the water, so it was reaching to my chin. He shook his head and turned around, taking a dive. Such a powerful, energetic man. Clever but blinded by his trust in fake friends. It made me wonder who on the Apahanta was actually worth his friendship. Miss Sweetwater, Miss von Westefeld and me definitely not. Neither was Bretonia. Watching him swimming in the hot water, I caught myself in a dilemma. My sympathy for Vertiga was growing steadily despite my psychoanalytical profile on him telling me not to allow that. But he was right about Bretonia. And I found myself questioning Bretonia's integrity. Was it right to spy on Vertiga? If it wasn't to force justice upon Sangria, I probably would have gotten serious doubts.
There was a certain silence around us. Silence. Silence was bad! For a moment, I hadn't kept my eyes on him, and when I realized what was going on, I saw him leaving the water. "Hey, come here!" I yelled over, looking at him. He turned towards me, and I had to face the laws of physics applying to his soaked black-blue swim shorts revealing the silhouette of his fleshy whip. It was an eye catcher and he noticed it as he moved closer. "What are you doing? Done swimming already? Are you leaving me all alone here?"
"Yeah," he said and chuckled. "I forgot I wanted to check my inbox. Now that we talked about the SIS, I recall they wanted me to help them with something in the Sigmas. Just a quick check, will be back in a minute," he said and set himself in motion.
This was bad. This was very bad. If he managed to reach his PDA, he'd have seen the cooldown counter. He'd have known I was trying to access his PDA for whatever reason. He made a step and everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. I had to come up with something. Something that wasn't making him suspicious of how desperate I was in that moment.
"Fuck..." I sounded quietly, probably not audible to him. He was halfway at the car. "Ezrael," I said in a challenging way, and the way I called his name made him turn around. He looked at me, and then at my chest. My lower body was covered by water. Only by water, as I held my bikini parts up in the air. "The SIS can wait, don't you think?"
He just stood there, looking at me, mostly my face. "I guess I get a condom."
"You won't need one for what I have in mind," I said and licked over my lips. I embarrassed myself infront of him. I felt like an idiot. I knew what I brought upon myself right now was not the worst, but I'd have prefered it to happen under other circumstances. Yet it worked. With a charming smirk on his lips, he made his way back to me and sat down next to me again. My bikini lay on a stone, and then was covered by his swim shorts.
December 17th, 825 - Planet Gran Canaria, Omega-49
The chain of events on that day were incredibly unfortunate, in retrospect. We were still enjoying the hot water. I sat on his lap, facing him, while his fingers were between my legs. My hands were at his shoulders as we merely stared at each other, me letting him do what he wanted, although I was certain he wanted more than just that. Nevertheless, he played along and didn't rush things. It was quite romantic, in a certain way, but in that moment I was just glad he didn't move to check his PDA.
And that was exactly what lead to something horrible later. We had no idea about what was going on in the orbit of the planet. The only source of news was the PDA. I looked up into the sky and saw this bright white-blue sea of light and Grand Vista Orbital reflecting even more light like a shining pearl. Had we been on the other side of the planet right in that moment, we would have seen explosions as Battlegroup Stirling had made a move to force a smaller group of Corsairs out of the area.
I felt a certain pity for Ezrael as I didn't return the favor despite having teased him exactly for that. He was quite good at what he was doing, perfect speed and pressure while not only focusing on one spot. Being in hot water was welcomingly conceiling. When he was finishing me, I hugged him, then pecked his cheek. I needed a minute or two to just enjoy the moment.
"A bit unfair, don't you think?" he sounded after a while. My hands were at his back as I was embracing him rather tightly while he had a hand at my back and one at my lower back. With the hot water covering us, it felt extremely cozy.
"What do you mean?" I asked him, and to say my thoughts were scattered all over the place was an understatement.
"Do I get nothing?" His voice indicated a certain amusement. He was fully aware I was playing with him in a certain way. Which was okay as long as he didn't know why I had to.
"Not here," I returned. It was already pretty unclean what he just did, despite the water being almost clear and hot. "I'll return the favor on the Apahanta."
And right as I ended the sentence, he grabbed me and stood up with me. It happened so quick, all I did was me embracing him as tight as possible to not fall. And like that, we left the water. He didn't bother picking up our swimwear and headed straight for the car. Below my bum was all the fueled motivation he needed. I first thought he wanted to go for the backseats, but he simply dropped me off at the luggage compartment. He gave me a towel, then used the other one to wipe the water pearls off his perfect body. I didn't hide my interest anymore and watched him while doing the same myself. Then he put on his clothes again, and I slipped back into my Apahanta suit. When he grabbed his jacket, I realized too late he was not intending to put it on in that moment but to take the PDA out.
My heart was beating extremely fast. Did we spend half an hour in the water or less!? He tapped the PDA's surface and the unlocking screen showed up. I stared at him, trying to think of anything, but it was too late. He was looking at the screen. Then at me. Our eyes met like that, and I formed a smile on my lips, just to not look like I was caught red-handed. "What?"
"If you check for messages right now, chances are there will be something that will cross our plans," I told him, and for a moment, he just looked at me, while my eyes wandered down to the bulge in his pants. Then he put his PDA away again however putting on his jacket.
"Then let's go."
The flight back to Los Dragos didn't take much time. He didn't seem like he wanted to wait much longer than necessary, and thus the speed of the hovercar was probably capping out. I looked over at him quite frequently, wondering what he saw on the screen. Was there a notification about failed log-in attempts? Was the cooldown timer still there? Or was everything alright? My heart was still pounding wildly, and maybe the adrenaline was influencing my decisions. He sat in his seat, my hand on his thigh, rubbing it in a teasing way.
"I actually thought you were opposed to anything like this," he sounded, clearly enjoying the attention I gave him while looking straight ahead, trying to focus on the flight.
"The counselor aspect of me is opposing it," I explained and smirked at him, my hand brushing a bit closer to the sensible area between his legs. "I'm however also a woman. And I'm pretty certain you invited me come with you simply to find out whether that aspect has fallen for you."
"And, has it?" he asked me, spreading his legs slightly. Smirking, I didn't reply to that question. Los Dragos was already in sight and he was directly aiming for the spaceport. I kept my hand where it was, simply to keep him in the mood and prevent him from doing anything unplanned. It was pretty exciting to me, to be honest, my dear diary. I felt younger.
The hovercar landed at the spaceport, a few meters away from the landing pad of the Attractive Rover. When the vehicle touched the ground, Ezrael turned off the engine and then leaned back in his seat. I was pretty certain he was quite under pressure by now, and his breathing was a bit more intense. I saw his chest moving. He looked straight ahead. I figured it was mean to let him wait any longer. So I moved to sit on my knees on my seat, intending to bend my upper body over to his lap. I pulled his longshirt up and pecked his abs once, then looked up to him, only to realize he wasn't even paying attention. He was looking over to the Attractive Rover, and I followed his glance. There were people standing at the Hussar, three, standing at the access panel. "I think these guys are trying to steal my ship,"
December 17th, 825 - Planet Gran Canaria, Omega-49
"Stay in the car. If anything goes wrong, leave and get the security," Ezrael said and opened the car door, scooting off his seat and left. He closed the door again and suddenly I felt extremely helpless, watching him approaching the three men at the Hussar. This was weird. Such a sudden change of atmosphere. One of the three men noticed him and moved his hand to his sidearm. Ezrael was unarmed, getting closer as the other two turned around to face him. One of the guys was bald, the second had short copper hair and the third had short black hair and a mustache. I realized all three of them were armed. Ezrael stopped infront of them and they seemed to have a conversation. At some point they looked like they didn't treat Ezrael as threat anymore, no longer having their hands at their sidearms. They smiled, one of them started to laugh out loud. Ezrael shook the hand of the guy with the mustache, and then the bald guy moved to the access panel. He began to use the buttons to enter the access code.
Then, the bald guy twitched and made a step back, falling to the ground. I was shocked, frozen as I saw Ezrael knocking out the copper haired guy with hit behind the ear, causing the poor guy to collapse. In a fluent motion, Ezrael then grabbed the side-arm of the mustached guy and rammed the back-end of it against his throat. Just like that, Captain Vertiga managed to knock out three people without the use of a gun. Still holding the sidearm of the mustached guy, who was on the ground, hands at his own neck while trying to breathe, the Captain moved to the bald guy and disarmed him, then quickly moved to the copper haired guy to do the same. Three guns.
I was about to open the door of the car and move out to join him, however before I could reach for the handle, I saw a light flashing towards Ezrael, and before I realized what happened, more lights were flashing infront of the car. There was a fourth person, however behind the Hussar. We didn't see him! Everything happened so fast. Adrenaline was rushing through my body, this time in fear. I heard the shots, about ten before things turned silent. Then a few seconds of nothing. Then, with a few seconds between them, three shots more.
I left the car, shaking. Ezrael was standing there, leaning against the hull of his Hussar. His chest was moving up and down and he seemed to breathe in pain. The bodies of the three people he had knocked out were still there, each of them with a steaming hole in the head. The fourth body was under the ship, no steaming holes, the head however twisted. Not far away a steaming gun, shot by another gun. Carefully I moved closer to Ezrael, looking at him, my brain trying to process what just had happened. He made a few steps towards me, dropping the gun he had used to kill the disabled men. There were holes in his jacket. "Bring me to my ship," he sounded, falling into my embrace. I held him as tight as I could, his blood running down my suit. He was barely able to stand, his voice weak. My guess was that he was under shock and didn't feel the pain yet, as otherwise he would have screamed.
Bringing him to his ship? He was losing blood. He wouldn't have survived the transit into space like that. So instead, I brought him to the car, on the backseats and brought him to the hospital not far from the spaceport. The timing of the events surrounding us couldn't have been worse as the hospital was overrun with injured people. Apparently the riots of Las Palmas caused too much chaos and people were sent to Los Dragos as well. I appeared there, yelling for help as every little second was now important, deciding between life and death of Ezrael, but eventually three people arrived to help, first stabilizing him in the car, then moving him inside. I followed them until they told me to wait outside. So I waited. It didn't take long before they left the surgery again, but to me, these minutes were horrible. A nurse was there for a moment, handing me a towel as I had Ezrael's blood all over me. When they pushed his medbed out of the room to bring him somewhere else, I looked at what they had done. Three wounds, belly, chest and shoulder. Makeshift treatment, merely to ensure his survival.
In the end, I spent most of my time sitting next to Ezrael's unconscious body while he lay in a room on his med-bed with a blood transfusion. I was thankful for being able to be with him without anyone else being around. His skin was more pale than usual, his longshirt cut open by the surgeons. He was still wearing his leather jacket and his pants, his wounds bandaged. Since I was alone with him, I tried my best to wipe him a bit more clean.
Hours had passed. I had pilfered his PDA and tried to crack the password, failing over and over again. "What are you doing?"
I couldn't help but twitch in surprise as I hadn't expect him to be awake. He had his head turned slightly towards me. I was about to type in my final attempt for the next thirty minutes, and he had seen it. "I'm trying to access your PDA so I can contact the Commander."
"Give it to me," he said in his weak voice, and I did as he asked. Since his right hand was receiving the blood transfusion, he only had his left hand available. When he slowly typed it in, I realized I couldn't have cracked the password as it seemed to be way too long. At least thirty letters. "Here."
"How do you feel?" I asked him, taking the PDA and opening the text messenger.
"I take it I'm drugged because I don't really feel pain. I also assume I shouldn't have left my swim shorts at the lake because they cut my clothes open and if that's not a condom wrapped around my cock, it's probably a condom catheter to prevent me from pissing myself. Given I got shot and most likely lost control of my muscles, I wonder whether I did already."
I smirked at him. "You didn't, don't worry. And don't talk too much. Short sentences. Try to sleep." Because now that his PDA was unlocked, all I needed to do was wait for him to fall asleep again. The perfect opportunity to send a message to the intelligence service.