The wrong kind of food could make it worse since she has no idea what comprises this liquor. “I’ll be fine.” There are pills to quell the effects of food indigestible by Osirians, but unlike her captain, she doesn’t carry them with her.
“Maybe you should get Scott to carry you back to the Dragon.”
“I don’t want his smerth’n ape hands to touch me.”
“He’s not bad. He just enjoys women. It’s no different than all the alcohol you pour into your system.”
Sometimes Amye hates her sister more when she’s right.
THE STIFF WINDS howl around Commander Reynard. Dust flakes pelt his skin, some big enough to sting. He ignores the pain. No warrior would allow pinpricks to affect him, even if the constant burst of pellets hurt. Admitting pain in front of the three Braeco’ns would not only cause him to lose face, but destroy the reputation Admiral Maxtin’s creating for the crew.
Lieutenant Scott Beers keeps his uniform jacket zipped up and the bibbed overleaf on the front secured, as well as the strap around the neck and the waist secured as tight as possible to keep the bits of dust from infiltrating the jumpsuit underneath. No technology has been invented to prevent the difficulty of washing away sand from all the body crevices it collects in.
“I understand why you brought her with us. Her leg would have been amputated without the Dragon’s medical tech, but you’re putting a lot on the line allowing her to demonstrate a prototype sniper weapon. She misses and a smerth’n world of shit will rain down on these rebels,” Scott says.
“Her aptitudes state she’s qualified, but explain to me why a mining organization qualifies their employees in sniper rifles,” Reynard says.
“They don’t. Not directly.” Scott clarifies, “Their computers analyze certain test results to determine combat skills. The company assesses all those attending company schools in order to hire security from those raised in the company ranks.”
“Loyalty’s a virtue.” More like brainwashing from birth.
“The Interplanetary Mining Corporation’s holdings outreach even the Tri-Star Federation’s territories.”
“Corporations have always secretly ruled the world.”
“Galaxy,” Scott corrects his captain.
“Her record doesn’t say why she’s stuck as an IMC Second Class Technician with all those high scores.”
“When I worked with Kymberlynn on Tartarus, she said something about Amye going mental at some advanced training academy she was accepted into in her teens. She never learned what happened. Amye wouldn’t share with anyone.”
Reynard read the report. Amye failed an advancement assignment. Her brilliance was confused by one missed fact on the test. The IMC rank their students with the results and give no do-overs, just like his middle school math teacher. Reynard keeps his faith in the brunette prone on the ground taking aim into the canyon. He sees her becoming a valuable member of his crew. He saw potential in her, or he would have healed her and left her on Tartarus. Eliminating the Mokarran scouts will prove her potential to the rest of his crew.
And her shot will substantiate the value of the weapons Admiral Maxtin donates to his old ally. Braeco’ns notoriously believe females are not designed for combat, and Amye’s miss will be seen as an insult as well as bring down the wrath of the Mokarran.
Much of Reynard’s knowledge about Amye flows through Scott’s past relationship with her sister, making his bias of her character clear. Scott’s assessment doesn’t concern him. One opinion might belong to the tall humanoid standing opposite of Scott. Even at a distance, it’s clear Ki-Ton’s not quite one-hundred percent Osirian, at least not genetically. Something about his face lets you know he has mixed parentage.
Ki-Ton lacks the desire to share personal opinions. He prefers to perform the actions required to complete a mission and not discuss it.
Reynard recruited only the best operatives in their respective fields for his crew. He found a few people he liked, but most are assigned by Admiral Maxtin based on the requirements of the missions. After Australia Wells was allocated as his navigation officer, Ki-Ton was Maxtin’s top assignment. He spent nine years operating infiltrator missions against the Mokarran for the Admiral. Now he’s Reynard’s best source of information while treading in Tri-Star Federation space.
Ki-Ton speaks without emotion. “It’s not an impossible shot, Commander, but not many full-blooded Osirians are skilled with such rifles.”
“So we should let you make it?” Scott suggests. Other than knowing Ki-Ton worked for Admiral Maxtin, he’s never seen the man in action.
“The Commander wants a crew of those considered top in their field of operations, and he has populated the ship with only three non-Osirians.” Ki-Ton’s inflection displays his own disdain for the inferiority of Osirians.
“I’m best in my field. No one has scored higher on the UCP engineering examining,” Scott boasts.
“I don’t suffer from the same arrogance as Osirians,” Ki-Ton says.
“What species are you again? You look close enough to us to have Osirian genetics.”
“Neither of you have mastered teamwork,” Reynard scolds. “Behave, or I’ll assign some timeouts.” He knows his home-world reference is lost on them.
He steps up to the old warrior. Youshon wears his experience in the multitude of scars on his body. Strings of burnt flesh decorate his neck.
“Do you know Admiral Maxtin well, Commander?”
“Ki-Ton has worked with him more than me, but the Admiral has become quite a mentor.”
“Not a quality usually found in Zayars,” Youshon mentions.
“Braeco’n don’t approve of female warriors, either,” Reynard utters.
Youshon acknowledges, “Maxtin taught me some cultural norms are worthy of ignoring when dealing with the Mokarran. They kill anyone, despite gender. Females should be afforded the same defensive opportunities as males.”
“Your young warriors don’t share your sentiments.”
“It will benefit them to witness such a weak female overcoming powerful Mokarran,” Youshon declares.
I’m glad Amye didn’t hear him call her weak. “You’ve worked with the Admiral a long time against the Mokarran?”
“We were in the same fighter squadron during the Battle of the Twin Suns.”
Reynard probes no further. Youshon’s statement has finality to
