Here's today's chapter. Reminder: I'm gone to a convention starting Thursday. My next GUARANTEED AO chapter will be next Tuesday. I'll try to get at least one done over the weekend, though.

If you're wondering why I don't just give you the chapters before I leave, it's because they aren't done. LOL; I have no backlog. Every time I build one up, I burn through it. Sorry, folks... :(

Oh, with today's chapter--we're moving some minor plots along and skipping some time. Shit will kick off next chapter.

See you soon!

-Plum

12 – Measured in Millimeters

The next few days aboard Maidensong were hectic. Knowing it might take more than a day to process, Hector absorbed the aura potentia that Burton had given him and started the process for his level-up right away. He spent time the next day with Paige and Mathews, and then with Freddy, who was due to come out of the immersion tank that evening.

When his aura system finished processing his new level the next morning, Hector was once again pleased with his gains: fifteen maximum aura in his pool, three points of Strength, three points of Speed, and a stray point in his already colossal Vitality attribute. The level-up cost him 342 potentia, and after it finished, he learned that level seventeen would cost him another 380—out of reach with his 323 remaining potentia.

It didn’t matter; he didn’t figure he had enough time to process another level—not before they came into range of the pirates. With that in mind, he threw himself into preparations for his boarding action—a plan he refused to share with anyone. Gladia was convinced the pirates were looking for them because of spies around Mars, but Hector wasn’t so sure. What if one of her “loyalists” wasn’t so loyal?

So, while Burton led the others—including Flint and Freddy—through drill after drill focused on repelling boarders, Hector went to a quiet vehicle bay and practiced using Ghost Leap. He found that he could traverse the length of the bay reliably, which was a distance of twenty-five meters. The ability was quicker to activate than Shadow Step had been, and slightly less expensive, but it was disorienting, and when he flashed through the veil and reappeared, he often missed his mark by as much as two meters.

He didn’t allow it to frustrate him. When he’d been an Invicti, his final mentor, Marius Velox, had drilled into him a maxim that Hector had made a part of his personal ethos: fifty percent of an aura ability’s effectiveness was down to skill, and skill was something you trained. So, Hector spent his aura pool over and over and over, leaping through the weird, shadowy space between universes, always aiming for a white-taped X on the other side of the vehicle bay.

He made Gladia tell Mae to disable the cameras and sensors in the space, and he locked the door. If he hadn’t, anyone coming into the bay would have been subject to the weird, crackling rushes of air as his personal rift swallowed and then spat him out, over and over. They would have seen his body bloom with crimson light, seen the fabric of reality rip apart around him, and then snap shut with him gone. Then, almost instantaneously, they would have seen a crimson tear appear on the other side of the bay, and suddenly Hector would be there, more often than not, staggering for balance.

He got better, but his improvements could be measured in millimeters. When it came down to it, he resolved that in order to use his ability to board Grendel in secret, he’d need a view of the interior and at least a few meters to work with. Failing those minimums, he’d risk killing himself or depressurizing the ship by intersecting with the hull. He didn’t know how such a mistake would play out; would the softer material lose, or would his ability give him priority on the space? Would the ship’s alloys simply explode away from him or would his flesh come apart? Even Evie wasn’t sure.

On the last day of transit to the ambush point, as the ship’s drives burned, decelerating to a velocity that would make travel among the densely packed asteroids safe and, coincidentally, make Maidensong a target for pirates, Hector finished his practice. Exhausted, he made his way down to the brig. It seemed to him that Paige ought to have found something by then, and he was ready to give her a nudge.

Up to that point, he’d avoided any hints about Mathews’s unspent potentia; he’d wanted to keep the scientist’s head clear and open, because he knew if he pointed her in that direction, she’d get tunnel vision. When he approached the brig, the door across from Mathews’s cell was open, and Hector frowned, lifting his hands as he approached. That other cell was occupied by the man he’d almost killed—Stinson.

He hadn’t spoken to him, mainly because he had plenty on his plate without trying to figure out what to do with him. As far as he was concerned, Gladia could handle the situation. Still, with the door open, he had to wonder if a threat had gotten loose.

As he approached, though, Hector relaxed; he saw a medical cart inside the door and heard voices. They were evaluating the prisoner or something. He paused in the opening and looked through. Stinson sat on the bunk, and one of the medical techs stood over him, tapping on a crystal-glass tablet. The soldier’s back stiffened when he saw Hector in the doorway. He didn’t look angry, but his face was less than friendly.

“Was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” the man said.

Hector nodded. “Been busy.”

“Well…” Stinson looked down. “I guess I owe you some thanks.”

“I’ll give you credit for saying so,” Hector replied. “Anyway, don’t thank me until you know what Gladia’s going to do with you.”

“You didn’t hear?”

Hector tilted his head. “What?”

“I guess I get to fight for the right to join her crew. Some pirates or something.”

Hector looked him over. Somehow, they’d saved his arm—probably because his Aura Blade had cut it so damn cleanly. The soldier’s eyes were still fierce, too. Sometimes almost dying could take that away from a person. Hector stared into them for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s a fair deal. You’d join her? Nothing in your oath about your old boss’s family?”

Stinson shook his head. “No. My duty died with Balus.”

Hector shrugged. “I’m sure Gladia’s looked into it. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” With that, Hector turned, crossed the hall, and unlocked Mathews’s cell. When he stepped in, he wasn’t surprised to see Paige and Ling in there. They’d set up a table, a large crystal-glass display, and a network deck. Mathews was lounging on her bunk, a pair of empty soda pouches on the floor beside her.

Ling jumped up when Hector entered, bowing at the waist. “Good to see you, sir!”

Hector chuckled. “You too, Ling.”

Paige was engrossed in something and didn’t look up from her work, but she waved absently.

Mathews looked at him, and she didn’t look any better—hollow eyes, too thin, and a kind of meanness in her expression that said she was out of patience. He knew her frustration wasn’t directed at him or Paige; it was pointed directly inward. She was a tough woman, and she wasn’t happy with her inability to beat whatever was affecting her. “There he is,” she said, her voice raspy.

Hector walked over to her and took in what he couldn’t see from the door. Red, calloused flesh encircled her wrist—she insisted on being bound to her bunk at night. He knew the flesh would be raw and bleeding if she didn’t heal so quickly. Her gray jumper was stained, her nails were jagged and chewed, and her hair was stringy and unkempt. “They’re not letting you clean yourself up?”

For just a moment, a flicker of shame passed through her eyes, then Mathews shrugged. “What’s the point? Not like I’m going to see anyone.”

“Come on, Commander—”

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped. “I can’t even command myself.”

Hector turned away from her and walked over to Paige, nudging her chair. “What are you so caught up in?”

“A new file—a logbook from a garrison attempt in one of the Lunar rifts.”

“Which moon?”

“No, Luna—Earth-space.”

Hector nodded. “Got it. What’s the story?”

“Well, it’s old, and it’s not directly related to rift symbiotes; that’s why it took a while for Mae to get it to me.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not directly related, but there’s an account of someone…” She scooted her chair back and turned to look at Hector. “I should back up. Did you know that, pre-Empire, during the expansion, there were megacorps studying the rifts? They tried to establish footholds!”

Hector frowned, scratching his chin. “I probably knew that. I mean, I’m sure I’ve heard something like that…”

“Anyway, during those early attempts, when thousands went through and fought for space, building semi-permanent structures, symbiotes were more common.” She glanced at Mathews, adding, “There’s a lot to read here, Melanie, but Mae highlighted the promising sections. I’m hopeful that we’ll learn something useful.”

Hector nodded. “None of the other materials had anything?” He’d asked similar questions almost every day, and he was sure Paige was growing as frustrated with him as she was with the task he’d set before her, but she maintained her calm, open demeanor as she answered him.

“We’ve confirmed that something’s different about what’s happening to Melanie. The fact that she’s still human says it’s not a common symbiote infection. According to the Ventress libraries, the symbiote should have shown itself within eighty hours of nutrient denial.”

“Blood?”

“Well, the bloodletting, according to several documented studies in the files, is a mechanism for pulling aura from a healthy human.”

“Aura or aura potentia?”

“Both,” Mathews replied, apparently tired of Paige’s slow, contemplative replies. “And I can eat. And, no, the voice I hear isn’t because I’m crazy—we ruled that out with meds.”

Paige sighed, nodding. “Her medical nanites wouldn’t allow for chemical imbalances in her brain in any case. She’s got a high-end suite.”

“Yay for me.” Mathews flopped onto her side, turning her back on them.

Hector moved around Paige’s chair and sat against the edge of the table, facing her. “What about her potentia? The symbiote has to be in something, right?”

Paige nodded. “There’s something to that idea. It’s not always provable, but in many cases, there’s a direct record of the victim collecting potentia prior to whatever trauma they suffered.”

Hector frowned, looking at Mathews. “When did you get that potentia you’re sitting on?”

She spoke to the wall, her voice sullen, as she replied, “Same way a bunch of you got a little extra—scraping some here and there on the side. We killed a boatload of thrashers and lurkers.”

“Seriously?”

“Sue me!” she growled, rolling over to glare at him. “We all do it! Why do you think we carry scrapers?”

“Emergencies? Freddy and I scraped a pair of reapers, but that was because we were deep in the shit.”

“Not like we could check. You both have class-A systems—don’t even need a handheld…” She cut herself off, growling as she grimaced, shaking her head. “Listen to me! There’s something wrong, dammit!” Again, she rolled onto her other side, facing the wall.

Paige, in a low, calm voice, said to Hector, “Her fuse has been getting shorter every day.”

Hector looked at Ling, his eyes drifting to the needler he wore, holstered on his hip. It was loaded with paralytic rounds. When the man saw his gaze, he nodded; he was ready if Mathews threatened Paige.

“What if we scrape her?”

“No!” Mathews yelled, practically launching herself off the bed. She stood there, crouched, a furious glare in her eyes.

Hector stepped closer to her, staring into her eyes. Her strange double-irised implants were on full display. Was she scanning him? “Is that you speaking, Commander, or is that the thing hiding inside you?”

She bared her teeth, exposing her chromed canines, hissing as she spun, clenching her fists. Staring at the wall, she growled, “It’s me, dammit. I just…I just don’t want you to do that.”

Hector looked at Paige, who shrugged. “It’s not any sort of recorded treatment, at least that I’ve found…yet.”

While she spoke, Mathews unclenched her fists and crawled back onto her bed, still looking away from them as she pulled her knees to her chest. Hector stepped closer to her bed and gripped her shoulder. She flinched, but didn’t say anything as he squeezed. “We’ve got to do something. If Paige doesn’t find something soon…”

“I know,” Mathews whispered hoarsely.

Hector stood and moved to the door. He paused and said, “Tomorrow, things are going to be…interesting. I want you to take the day off, Paige. Hole up with Gladia and her command crew while we’re dealing with the pirates.”

“I will,” she replied.

“And me?” Ling asked, hand once again drifting toward his needler.

“You’ll be with them. If the pirates get through, we’ll want some steady guns ready for them.”

Ling grinned. “I knew your tale would be an epic one.”

“Wish I could help,” Mathews whispered, so low that Hector thought he’d probably have missed it if not for his aura-enhanced senses.

“You’ll help plenty after we get you fixed up, Commander.” He stared at her for a moment, but when she didn’t respond, he turned and left. He didn’t like seeing her like that, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t think of a solution. Stinson’s door was closed again; whether he was in there, Hector didn’t know. Gladia’s problem.

//You’re in a bad mood.//

Aren’t you?

//After seeing Melanie?//

Yeah.

//Paige seemed optimistic.//

She’s always like that.

Hector took the elevator to his quarters, and when he stepped off, he almost walked right into Sass, who’d clearly been waiting for the elevator. “Sass.”

“Hector! Did you eat yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I want to tell you about our drills today. Freddy is hilarious. You should have heard what he said to Burton! Can you tell me what you were working on yet? I mean, just between us?”

He shrugged. “Later.” The truth was, he felt a headache coming on, and he wondered if it had to do with all the Ghost Leaps he’d been doing.

//It’s more likely due to stress. Mathews, and then what you have to do tomorrow; everyone will depend on you, so—//

“Enough.” When Sass’s face fell, he added, “Evie, I mean. Enough.” He forced a tight smile at Sass. “My AI is talking too much.” He stepped back into the elevator. “Come on. Let’s get some food and you can tell me about your day. I need to take my mind off of mine.”