227. A Place Called Hope

Yul held the image in her hand, her gaze set as if a mere look could alter the very reality of days to come. Her hand trembled slightly and by force of will she tried to hold it steady, but the more she tried the worse it got. Placing the image on the table in front of her, Yul sat down and deposited her hands on the table, trying to steady herself. She wasn’t one to pray but her thoughts moved toward Kieran, and although she couldn’t bring her mind to utter the words, her heart silently asked for a miracle, for help, for intervention, deserved or not.

Rog walked up behind her, noticed the image and placed his hands on her shoulders. “They say this facility is the best.” Yul didn’t respond. “You know, they call it Hope, the facility that is.” Yul still didn’t budge. Rog sighed and his strong fingers massaged her shoulders, a proxy for the words he could not find. “Baby, I don’t know what to say and I don’t know what is going to happen, but,” Rog leaned over, his arms moving down her chest, fingers locking below her breasts as he moved his head next to hers and whispered in her ear, “I do know this, I will be with you every step of the way and we are going to fight this thing together and there is no force of nature that is going to mess up my plans to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Yul smiled weakly, her eyes still locked on the image. She leaned her head next to his, drawn near as if his words were pulling her toward him. “Hold me baby, just hold me tight and tell me you’ll never let me go.” Yul paused trying to keep her voice from breaking. “Rog can I tell you something?”

“Sure baby, anything.”

“You know my dock story.”

“I do.”

“I don’t know if I could have done what my sister did.”

“Don’t matter. None of us can ever know what we might have done in someone else’s shoes. Let it go. Our fight is ahead of us, not behind us.”

Yul let out a big sigh. “I know, but that is not really what I wanted to say and I don’t know quite how to say this.”

Rog pulled her tight. “Just say it baby. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Yul wiped her nose. “My father—“

“Go ahead. It’s okay,” responded Rog, trying to nudge her forward.

“He didn’t choose me.”

“I know sweetie.”

“I mean, he never chose me. If I asked for something, the answer was no. When I needed support, none was given. My dreams and goals were dismissed as unrealistic, that I should look for something more attainable. Do you know, my father never hugged me. He hugged my sister, but he never hugged me. Do you have any idea how much hurt there is within me, when I search my memory for just a single hug, just one time, perhaps when I was young, perhaps before my father made his decision that I was worthless, that maybe somewhere there was a time when I was loved, and all I want is just that one image of a hug, just that one memory of being held, and do you know, know what it is like, to be lying in bed at night, and no matter how hard you look, no matter how much you search, you realize that memory is not there.”

Rog’s mind whirled. He didn’t know what that was like.

Yul continued. “I’m scared Rog. Not of dying, that’s not it. I’m scared you will see what my father saw, that I am not worthy and I am scared I will die alone, in a foreign place surrounded by strangers who wait for my last breath as one waits for a stoplight to turn green so they can get on with the rest of their lives. I’m—.” Yul broke down, her head dropping, her words replaced with tears.

Rog reacted. “Baby, look at me. I don’t make idle promises. Never had, never will. Now you look at me.” His eyes watered. “There is nothing you can do or say that will keep me from your side.” Yul looked away. “Do you hear me?”

“I want to believe you, I really do, but I’ve been down this road before. My heart is not pure and it is not innocent. My father, perhaps he saw that, that maybe I’m not—“

Rog cut her off. “Don’t you even think that. Your father was an idiot, no offense, but I’ve seen you now, in close quarters for more than a year. We’ve shared wine and bread and spit and sheets. I’ve seen your heart and I’ve seen your soul and baby, I’ve seen you stand by me when Trev told everyone there was nothing more he could do. I saw you in the window and I saw you by my side and I felt you hold my hand like you would never let me go and I listened to your teary prayers and watched you light candles and in the dark of night, in that cold and lonely room, when no one else was around, you were there. And all the rest, your past, your father, all that don’t mean nothing, is nothing.”

Yul looked up as Rog took her in his arms, pulling her tight to his chest. “I love you Yul, and no power in the universe is going to keep me from your side every step of the way. Do you hear me?”

Yul choked. “Baby, if you squeeze me any tighter we’re not going to have to worry about tomorrow.”

Relaxing his grip, Rog laughed. “Sorry.”

And like the sun peeking through rain clouds, Yul laughed too.

Categories: Story, Rog, Yul

226. The Order of Merit

Kyra didn’t walk as much as storm into John’s office. Before he could stand up, she had her hands on his desk, her face just two feet from his and her sapphire blue eyes focused like lasers on his. “Why did you jam the signal?”

John stood up and putting his hands on his desk leaned over to match Kyra. “Because I want you.” John paused.

“John, I’m not in the mood. Do you have any idea what contact with another Hynerian vessel could mean to us? Think about it. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time and I want you to think very carefully before you answer.”

“Take a seat.” Kyra didn’t budge. “Please.” Without taking her eyes off John, Kyra slowly eased back into the chair in front to John’s desk. “I’m sorry you misinterpreted my answer. I jammed the signal for two reasons. First and foremost, I want you to come back with me. What you did today in the bay, no Kulmyk can do. I want you to come back and I want you to teach, teach us. I knew if you had hint of the signal you would want to pursue it. It was a chance I was unwilling to take. That’s as honest as I can be.”

“Honesty notwithstanding, how could you make that choice? How could you decide what is best for us? How John? Tell me that.”

“I apologize for withholding information, but there is one more piece of the puzzle you don’t know. We have every belief this SOS call is old, which is to say, whoever was out there and in trouble has long since—“

“Don’t say it,” shot back Kyra. “You know, you knew, no matter the circumstance, we would pursue it, that we had to pursue it. That we will pursue it.”

“I did. And so I had a choice to make. Do I let you go, which I knew you would, on what would for all practical purposes be a wild goose chase that at best would end in tragedy or—“

“Or you would selfishly treat us like children, deciding what was best for us, or is that, what was best for you? Is that it?”

“Kyra.”

“Don’t Kyra me. Do you really think I have any desire to return with you? Well, do you?”

“I really didn’t want to have to do this but you’re forcing my hand. We have a copy of the transmission.”

“So do we.”

“We have a copy that is not jammed.” Kyra didn’t move nor did she respond. “Before you leave, before you make that decision, I want you to listen to it. If you still want to go, I won’t try and stop you.”

“I want to hear that transmission.”

“We can go right now if you like. But before we do, I want to say thanks for what you did today, in the bay. I’m not sure I would be standing here without you. What you did, and I don’t really know, but what I saw was something special. And, well, since my gut tells me you are going to leave regardless, I might as well give you this now.”

Kyra watched as John picked up a small box from his bookshelf. Opening the box her eyes widened, picking up a sparkle of gold in the warm light. “It’s beautiful. What is it?”

“The Order of Merit. I had hoped to present it to you in an official ceremony, perhaps—“

“Please don’t say dinner.”

“Okay, I won’t say dinner. Please, let me put it on you. If I’m never to see you again, I want my last image to be with our highest honor around your neck.” Kyra handed John the box and he took the Order, unfolded the band and placed it around Kyra’s neck. “You look magnificent.” Before Kyra could respond, John’s hands cupped her jaws and he kissed her. “You saved my life. I owe you much more than medal and cloth.”

Kyra stood, slightly stunned at the turn of events. “Hey, I don’t mean to rain on your parade," Kyra said softly, "but can we go listen to that transmission now?”

John smiled. “Absolutely.”

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Kyra

225. It's Hynerian

Kyra returned to her quarters not sure if she was more exhausted or more excited. She had practiced a “mindbat” many, many times, but this was her first time under live fire. She felt exhilaration mixed with utter fear mixed with raw animal lust. Calfuray had her in every sense of the phrase with a skill beyond her imagination and expectation. Her tactics, let us say, were not anticipated.

Like dying in the cold, Calfuray’s manipulations of her pleasure centers were harder to resist than anything Papa had ever put her through. The temptation to let go, to have another take you over the edge while they were stroking your mind and taking you places you’ve never been—that was terrifying. Still, her body tingled in ways not completely understood. We love our enemies and share a bond with them that only warriors share Papa would say and she wondered how Calfuray was doing.

“Goldie, can you help me with this?”

“Yes Ms Kyra.” Goldie released a small clasp and tugged on the left sleeve. One didn’t so much as take off a glove as much as peel it away and the sensation of separation was both odd and sexual at the same time. The glove literally bonded to the skin, molded to every curve and anyone who has ever worn one will tell you the sensation had to be experienced to be appreciated.

As tired as she was, she had unfinished business. “Goldie, thanks for the help. Could you activate the waterfall acoustics on your way out?”

“Yes Ms Kyra. Will there be anything else this evening?”

“That’s all Goldie. Thank you.”

As Goldie retreated, Kyra moved to her bed and the light and sound show came to life. Beautiful greens and blues danced in patterns light and airy from the walls to the ceiling and the sound of lush spring water trickling and cascading down the mountain side filled the air. Kyra closed her eyes and allowed her mind to slip back to the edge as a slight blue glow arose naturally. Taking a deep breath, she spread her legs--.

“Ms Kyra,” interrupted Goldie.

“What is it Goldie,” responded Kyra, unable to withhold the irritation in her voice.

“Trev says he needs to speak with you right away. Something to do with the transmission. Says it’s urgent.”

“Tell Trev I’ll be there in a few minutes.”


“Trev, before you start, what’s the update on Mairi?”

“She’s in the med wing undergoing testing. Seems she is going to be just fine.”

“Good. Okay Trev, what have you got on the transmission?” asked Kyra.

“Well, credit goes to Em really. I was working on the transmission when she walked in. Took her two minutes. It’s a distress signal. Hynerian.”

“Hynerian. Are you sure?”

“No doubt.”

What does it say?” asked Von.

“Because of the jamming much of the signal is unintelligible but we do know three things. The signal is Hynerian. It is a SOS call. And we can pinpoint the location.” Trev paused and looked around the room like he was expecting an award.

Kyra was the first to speak. “How old is this signal, is it still being broadcast and how far are we from it?”

“The signal itself is not old. By my calculation we are perhaps a week away.”

“And is the signal still being broadcast?”

Trev rubbed his nose and squinted his eyes. “Nope. It stopped about the time Calfuray appeared.”

“I see,” said Kyra.

“One other thing,” Trev added. “The signal is in the opposition direction from where John will be heading.”

Kyra looked at Yul. “Okay, give me an hour, then we meet in the conference room.”

Categories: Story, Kyra, Goldie, Trev

224. Eagle and Serpent

Kyra deflected the telepathic blow with a natural ease. Calfuray came again, sending daggers of thought through the cold air of the bay, hoarfrost forming on the crates surrounding Kyra. Lifting her arms, the frost melted, and those that witnessed the affair swore later, a halo formed around Kyra’s black mane. She rotated her wrist turning her palms upward and an arc of blinding light formed between the halo and her fingers.

Calfuray’s eyes narrowed and she moved quickly. The firstest with the mostest as they say. She had seen this light once before and once was more than enough. Leaving her body, Calfuray’s mind rose above the bay and forming into a serpent with two heads lashed downward. Kyra reacted and rose to meet her adversary; and above the bay waged a combat neither seen nor heard between serpent and eagle.

Reaching into Kyra’s mind, the twin serpent heads spit a burning fire into her neural pathways. Kyra withstood the heat and focused her mind, parrying the blow. But Calfuray dug her fangs deep into Kyra’s mind, moving past her cerebral cortex and directly to her limbic lobes. With fingers nimble and quick, Calfuray fondled her lobes, manipulating first one emotion and then another. Kyra tried to pull back. She couldn’t. Calfuray squeezed Kyra’s anger then her fear while caressing her biological rhythms as a cat plays with a mouse.

+I would like to stay and play with one so beautiful and delicate,+ said Calfuray, as her mind’s tongue flicked out and suckled Kyra’s hypothalamus. One tongue circled Kyra’s pleasure nodes while the other tightened its grip on her bodily brain functions, slowly shutting off blood flow as one turns a spigot.

+You know,+ Kyra struggled to say, +it’s been a long time since anyone manipulated my pleasure centers. Don’t stop.+ Kyra was pinned. She needed time. She needed an opening.

+You are a delicious one, much sweeter to my mind’s eye than I imagined.+ Calfuray licked again, allowing the pleasure of control, of domination to please her. Call it the spoils of war, plunder if you will. She had Kyra. Had all of her and there was never, ever anything more satisfying as to take your enemy in every way. +Lighten your resistance and enjoy the flow. I’m going to blow your mind and then I’m going to blow your mind and if you are lucky you will never know the difference. Let go, and I’ll take you to pleasure you never imagined. Resist, and I’ll burn your brain out with an intensity that will make you wish you had never been born.+

+My Janus,+ exclaimed Kyra. +I’ve never felt such pleasure, the intensity is mind boggling. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.+

Calfuray smiled and it cost her everything. In that spilt second of pride, she loosened her grip and Kyra’s claws extended into her heart. Kyra pushed deeper and Calfuray’s body buckled and collapsed and a purplish fluid started to ooze from her ears. She was done.

Kyra walked across the floor, put her hand on Calfuray’s wrist and signaled John’s troopers for a stretcher. Looking up to the balcony her eyes met John’s. He smiled, saluted and walked away.

Von approached. “That was quite a performance. Care to share how you did it?”

“Sometimes you have to let the game come to you. Patience, Papa taught. Take what your opponent gives you,” said Kyra.

“Really?” said Von, tilting his head, lifting his chin and raising one eye.

“Really,” answered Kyra with a wink. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling a little hot in this glove.” Kyra started to walk away before turning and looking over her shoulder. “Von!” she teased.

“What?”

“Act your age.”

Categories: Story, Calfuray, Kyra, Von

223. Calibration

Calfuray secured the lock and set the self-destruct. If she didn’t return, then no one else would either, not that she cared one way or the other. Her mission was straightforward. Find John, kill him. Find Tom, kill him too. Return onworld and hope like hell the ensuing chaos created an opening. A rather simple mission until her cover was blown. The mighty null, she mused, shaking her head, what a frailing joke.

Long before the tocsins, Kyra knew. She closed the folio, stood, opened her eyes and allowed the unnatural vibration of ill will to wash over her six senses like a bloodhound taking the measure of its charge. Walking to her closet she slipped out of her jacket and molded her hard body into her black bodyglove. The glove, as it was called, fit like a second skin, allowing full and unhindered motion while providing more protection than a full suit of ceramite armor.

She had wanted a glove for as long as she could remember, but Papa insisted she earn it. Days of training turned into weeks and weeks into months and months into years. Her physical skill grew quickly, a natural, Papa would say. More shocking, or perhaps most delightful to Papa, her mental acumen astonished as if it danced ahead beckoning and teasing the body to keep pace. The first time Von saw the child perform, Papa asked him how long he thought she had been in training. Von gave an educated guess of three years, which for most Tao would have been a fair estimate. When Papa replied three months the two simply exchanged glances with raised brows.

In her glove, Kyra looked abso-frailing-lutely lethal as coal black hair fell on shoulders neither wide nor narrow, strong yet lithe and eyes sapphire blue narrowed in focus with an intensity seen rarely outside the annuals of greatness personified in the moment of destiny. Kyra pulled her hair back and bended knee while whispering words not known. Goldie watched from the shadows, quiet as a mouse waiting for the cat to pass, mesmerized with circuits feeding off energy sublime and overpowering. Goldie never felt more alive.

Calfuray felt it too. Von’s signature was clear and she made a note, time permitting she mused, of his location. But there was another, one stronger, one different yet somehow similar. Her mind raced. Priorities flickered and threat analysis considered. To the left, her main objective; to the right, this unknown threat, a threat growing warmer, stronger, nearer. John would have to wait.

Calfuray, like Kyra, was something of a prodigy. Not of the Arc’teryxian race, she had been bartered in a hostage trade to keep the peace many years before in a campaign the voice would just as soon forget. The peace was broken and Calfuray, as agreed, would render blood. After she killed the seventh executioner, barehanded, the voice thought otherwise. Natural talent of this order was rare. Ten years later Calfuray’s skills as an assassin were unmatched. Until her encounter with Von, she had never failed a mission. She intended to never fail another.

“Are you looking for me?” asked Kyra, standing on the far end of the cargo bay.

Calfuray focused her oculus crosshairs and marveled at the feedback. Calibration failed, but that was only a matter of time. “You know, we both want the same thing.”

“And what would that be?” responded Kyra, trying to get a feel for this unknown entity. Vibrations were mixed in an odd sort of way. Not what she expected. But then, she thought, what was.

“To go home. To live in peace,” said Calfuray. “We are tired of being hunted, of running, of living on worlds not our own. I sense you understand. Am I wrong?”

Kyra smile and now she knew why Von had had such a struggle. Before she could answer she felt a warm purplish light cross her retinal. Calfuray felt it too. Calibration. And upon the signal released the hounds of hell with all her might.

Categories: Story, Calfuray, Kyra

A Gift

My dear Sweetest put this together for me knowing I was on the road and would have very little time to update my blog. I'm speechless at the beautiful gesture, so enjoy.

Photo and video editing at onetruemedia.com

222. Your Move

[ed note: this chapter is happening simultaneously with each snippet]

Em walked up behind Trev, fascinated by the image he was working on. “Whatcha doing?”

Trev looked up. “Take a listen and tell me what you think?”

“A distress signal, clear as day.”

Trev’s jaw dropped. “How—“

“Heard them all the time on the open water,” responded Em, not realizing this recording was only hours old. “The signal is very weak but the tone seems a little odd. Where did you get this?”

-----

Kyra pulled out the folio and placed her palms on the cover. Closing her eyes she said, “Papa, forgive me, for I have sinned.” Goldie noticed a bluish glow from Kyra’s quarters but thought the better of disturbing her.

-----

Cait picked flowers and watched Ariel chase after Maria, their dog. Solar activity continued to prevent any communication with the taskforce. Taking a deep breath, the aroma of love past took her places warm and tender.

-----

Tom walked into John’s office. “Team Kilo has made contact.”

“And?”

Tom smiled, “No survivors. We’re heading home boss. Mission accomplished.”

John starred through Tom, his index finger on his temple with his thumb under his chin.

-----

Calfuray looked at Mairi, then Dr. X and finally Shen. “We are approaching the Aegis. Make one move without my permission and I’ll gut the lot of you quicker than your sphincters can tighten round your pathetic little fingers.” No one moved—not even a blink.

-----

Von looked at Rog as Yul looked over his shoulder. “Your move.”

Rog surveyed the board. Moving a white triangle into position, it turned red. “How bout them dimplerods boss.” His laughter was short lived. Coming from outside Bravo, the sound was muffled but unmistakable. Code Red.

“Crap,” exclaimed Rog. “What now!”

Categories: Story, Calfuray, Kyra, Von, Rog, Trev, Emy, Caitlin, John Discovery