“Honestly, I’m impressed you made it six hours without harassing anyone. It’s about time, I suppose.” Demi cut in. His smile slowly flattened out as Kalus turned back to close the door. “Is this a private matter?” Kalus swaggered over to the chair opposite his Captain, on the other side of a red chestnut desk. He opted for an armrest as a seat.
“You tell me. Do you mind if Sophia knows about us?” Kalus posed. Demi closed a folder full of papers mid-review. He looked Kalus dead in the eye.
“The only us, brief as it was, was five years ago,” Demi told him outright, absolute, “Anything that was, was. What we are now are Captain and Arms Master. Crewmates. Comrades.”
“Sure,” Kalus forced a smile, much as the words turned his stomach. He stood mostly in discomfort. He traced an idle finger along the swirling trim of his Captain’s desk. “Did…you read up on this SkyLine Launcher yet?” At the change in subject, Demi seemed to lighten a bit. The visor of shade that had befallen his face withdrew.
“Actually, that’s what I have here,” said the Captain. He tapped a finger to the thick teal folder. Kalus wandered closer to inspect it. Slayer Project was dimpled into the corner of it, in a tiny font.
“Tell me, what’s different now?” Kalus inquired, if only to loosen the tense air between them. “The WCC was never able to establish trade routes to individual Outerworlds from the central SkyLine before.”
“From what I understand - and I still have much to read - it has to do with positioning and keeping the nanomachines that project a SkyLine on separate, high-functioning networks,” Demi explained. He flipped the folder back open to run a finger along illustrations that correlated with each aspect. Shots of the blue tunnel of Chrysum from Earth, Moon and Neptune. “All SkyLines currently branch from the main launch stations on Earth. The same acceleration factor that makes it possible to get from Earth to Neptune so fast makes it impossible to launch a new SkyLine branch mid-transit to any worlds in between.”
“I can only speak for Saturn,” Kalus interjected, “But I know they sure as hell don’t have the tech to build a SkyLine from the rings out to the central lines out there.”
“Exactly. The technology involved in forging a new SkyLine is complex. And immense. In the past, it was almost economically impossible to justify transporting it out there. Apparently, the Slayer Program had some sort of breakthrough, though. Thus: the SkyLine Launcher, a tool compact enough to be operated from a single Warbringer.” Demi’s finger scrolled along to a picture of the Cerberus, its deck open, a gigantic cannon barrel prodding out from it.
“The Slayer Program, huh… Why does that sound like it has nothing to do with transport?” Kalus asked. He leaned on the desk with both hands to get a better view of the pictures. The images were all that separated his fingers from his Captain’s.
“Because it doesn’t,” Demi told him. He flipped a piece of paper over, grazing the top of Kalus’ hand in the process. Both acted like they didn’t notice. Like they didn’t feel the shiver jump through their nerves. “The Slayer Program is a study on the ancient lifeform Machaeus, previously believed to be the master AI for the Dragon’s life support system,” Demi recited from the paper.
“That’s…all it says?” Kalus asked. He slid his hand closer to lean in more. His cold touch met fire in the side of the Captain’s warm hand.
“I’ll bet you Marcus’ research-escort knows something. He knows how to work it, at least. We…should pick his brain,” said Demi. Kalus’ hand slid over the top of his. It dipped and climbed over every bony line of it until the chill blanketed his hot skin.
“Demi,” Kalus called his eyes up. Hazel and green gems sparked against one another, over a crispy bed of past tinder. “Of all your colleagues... All the people you met in your service across the Outerworlds… Why did you recommend me to Marcus, if not for…” It was almost embarrassing to say, with Demi’s bewildered eyes so wide. His quiet seemed to snap the Captain out of it. He slipped his hand away from Kalus’.
“Not one of them can do what I’ve seen you do. I needed the man who saved my ass when Dragons lit Saturn on fire. And his sister, who flew him straight into the heart of a warzone. I’m…sorry if that put out signals that were easy to misinterpret,” said Demi. For but a second, Kalus looked hurt. It was a face Demi hadn’t seen before, even under the kicking boot of his own comrades. Then he nodded, on his way to the door.
“Yeah, everything’s clearer now.” Kalus pulled the door shut behind him without a chance for his Captain to respond.
Demi sat upright in his chair, fist tight on his desk, for the next ten minutes. He replayed nights of passion one last time, before slamming them in the safe of his soul, not to be opened again. Each moment he’d once treasured with Kal - the dirt-faced vagrant from Saturn - rattled around inside with others from years past, with another young man. He wouldn’t let things with his Arms Master end the way they had with him. Aswin.
Of course, Reggie didn’t know the Captain of the Dogs of War as Demi. Baelner, he’d called himself when
he joined Blue Terra. Reggie had known him by that name until the day “Baelner” put a shell in the back of his skull. Groups opposed to a world government had long since been extinguished, but Reggie lived on in nightmares.
Demi uncurled his fists when he felt something warm between them. His nails had cut through his palm again, reopened scars that hadn’t opened in years.
“Damnit, Demitri…” the Captain growled. He breathed deep and reached under his desk for something to wipe the blood on. “Get it together…” With three dysfunctional crewmates and several planets on his shoulders, Demi didn’t see another choice.
Chapter Five: A Bag of Marbles
Kalus managed to keep himself from wandering to the Captain’s office for the rest of the journey. He even managed to keep from bothering the others too much. Demi had drawn the conclusion a little fast, he found, three days in. That was when a rather peculiar conversation leaked through the crack in his doorway. Demi had perfected the habit of audibly closing his door, then silently turning the knob to pull it slightly open. The Captain leaned forward, an ear poised to listen.
“Tell me, then,” Kalus said, in a tone just north of daring, “What exactly do you know about the world outside the WCC’s high-walled barracks?”
“For your information, Kal, I’ve been stationed in the Outerworlds twice before,” Sophia told him. There was a certain edge of pride in her voice. Demi couldn’t help but chuckle into his fist. The girl may have served twice somewhere off Earth, but she was only in her mid-twenties. If she’d seen any action on those tours, she wouldn’t be so proud.
“Don’t call me Kal,” Kalus bit, with a degree of ferocity that surprised even his eavesdropping Captain. “That’s reserved for family.”
“Stop calling me Soph, like we’re besties from third grade, and we have a deal,” Sophia volleyed right back. Demi waited a tense second for a true fire to explode between them. What came, however, was only the friction of two rigid sticks that didn’t quite ignite. “Didn’t think so,” said Sophia. They were just blowing smoke, it seemed.
“Anyway… You kind of proved my point,” said Kalus after another awkward second.
“Didn’t know you had one,” Sophia scoffed. At this point, Captain Demi rose from his chair. He crept to the wall beside his office door, to listen carefully for a weapon’s discharge. Instead, he heard the conversation go on at a shocking level of calm.
“You may have been stationed on the Outerworlds, but you never lived on one,” Kalus said. Sophia intentionally failed to muffle a giggle.