I jam my wrist into the manual release and interface with the adjunct long enough to confirm my identity so it'll release Jye. He comes awake with a gasp and I shift forward so I can catch him when he releases his harness.
"Are you hurt?" I demand, even as I run my hands over his shoulder, his chest.
"I'm fine," he says. "Where's Mikscn?"
"Still in our cockpit," I say. I check to make sure he can stand on his own before I scramble up to the pilot's cockpit.
"I'm fine," Mikscn says when I climb up. He's sitting down, his head cradled in his hands. "Fuck. We've never desynchronized like that before."
I drag myself back up into my cradle and jack into the computer through my wrist since the adjunct's listing at too extreme an angle for me to connect normally. Most of the initial diagnostics come back clean, shockingly enough. When Aiya and Keito—when the zerospace generator was ripped off, it came away clean, instead of compromising the integrity of the armor.
"The computer kept Jye asleep," I say, moving on to the next item on my list of what-the-fuck-is-going-on. "It kept Jye asleep, but I've never known an adjunct to do that before." Pilots are much more likely to be incapacitated by a rough landing, so anams are usually woken up to render assistance. I search for the subroutine that did it, and who installed it. The HUD brings up the one name I was hoping it wouldn't.
"It was Aiya."
I let my arm drop as I turn to face Jye, the relay disconnecting with another little shock. "How do you know that?" I ask, my fingers twitching when he runs his fingers Mikscn's hair.
"Because I helped her do it."
I stare at him hard; even though he obviously has a headache, he's completely calm. He's comforting Mikscn, with his back exposed to the forest.
"You aren't surprised at all," I realize aloud, because even though Mikscn and I are trained in this kind of thing, we're both twitchy, shocky. I can feel the panic well up and then squish down before rising again. "You planned this."
"Mostly, it was Keito and Aiya," he says smoothly. "I only had a little input."
I feel my breath coming too fast, too shallow, as the implications run around my mind. Jye steps forward and I flinch. He just looks at me, though, and I still and let him pull me close, tuck my head under his chin. I can sort of see where he still has a hand buried in Mikscn's hair, and the connection between us stops jumping around so hard, starts to settle down.
I relax into him, clinging as hard as I can to the fact that Aiya, Keito and Micca raised us. They love us, I know they do. They didn't do this to hurt us. They didn't, and I have to believe that, or I'm going to start screaming and never stop.
"Sh," Jye whispers. His fingers stroke up and down my spine. "Sh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay."
I hold on tight and let his words filter into the place where Mikscn and I are
us
, and close my eyes.
It isn't until Mikscn and I have calmed down, sitting near the edge of the cockpit with my head in Jye's lap and Mikscn tucked under his arm, that Jye starts talking.
"The Project," he says, and I flinch despite myself. "You know what it means."
Project Áed, supposedly the concerted effort of the Brudeah to hide the total enslavement and exploitation of a sovereign race—us, the pilots and anams. The rumor–the myth—is that the Brudeah enslaved the race they shared their planet with, and took over their technology, that that race was technologically superior, but lacking in the militarized force to repel the Brudeah. Those that believe in the Project, those that are part of the pilot-anam resistance, are enemies of the Brudeah Empire.
"You're part of the resistance," I say dully. "You and Aiya and Keito and Micca."
"Yes," he says. "We're funded and helped by the Vrah'di. We think you can help us prove the Project exists and get it out to the Hegemony so the Brudeah can't use the Alliance to silence us anymore."
"No." I don't even twitch at Mikscn's statement. "They'd kill Cherian."
Jye takes a big breath and I tense. "He's free."
"No, he's not," I snap.
Jye's hand tightens on my shoulder. "Why do you think we're here, miles away from any kind of Brudeah presence, and your collars haven't been triggered? We bought and freed him when he was fourteen, and his one demand was that we find a way to deactivate your collars."
"You're lying," I hiss, straightening and leaning away from him.
"Why wouldn't he tell us?" Mikscn demands.
"Because it took us till now to find a way to break your collars," Jye says, sighing. "And we can't even remove them fully until we get to Control. Of course Jheghda wouldn't want you to find out, and Cherian wanted to protect you."
"You all lied?" I ask flatly. "Have been lying?" Our mentors knew this whole time?
He nods. "We've been trying to protect you. Cherian's been making us wait until we knew for certain we could deactivate your collars safely."
"What do you want with us?" Mikscn asks.
Jye shifts back so he can see us both more easily and clasps his hands in his lap. "You're descendants of the scientists that created a database on the Project during the initial attack, before they were overwhelmed. The building that houses the database is on the original Brudeah homeworld, and can only be entered by a pair of descendants, that much we managed to find out. When we bought Cherian, we didn't know that a pair was needed until we took him to the planet and it didn't work. The security measures engaged and we almost lost a few people trying to get away."
"If the Houses knew—"
"They don't," he says sharply. "Cherian's purchase was made to look legitimate, and we waited a year for him to 'die' in an accident. There's no way they'd suspect that he's alive."
"So Jheghda's been playing us this entire time," I say, rubbing my hands over my face.
"Yes."
"How are we supposed to believe you?" Mikscn asks. "Everything you've told us is a lie."
"That's not true," Jye says. He smiles crookedly and runs his fingers down Mikscn's cheek. "Just … trust me as you have been."
Mikscn glances at me, and I twitch my shoulder. I don't know anymore. Help the resistance? The possibility that Cherian's free is shadowed by the possibility that everyone I know and trust has been lying for six years.
I just … I have nothing left to give. So I lean back and let Mikscn decide to trust Jye and believe that he's telling the truth this time.
It doesn't take long to move the adjunct to a plains area. I watch dully from my spot on the adjunct's shoulder as the pirate ships descend from the sky, silver and sleek, bullet-like with thin black lines following their curves. Mikscn lets out a low, envious whistle.
"They're gorgeous," he murmurs. "Sister ships?"
"Mm." Jye reaches over and scrubs at my hair. My heart rises in my throat, something I can't identify choking me. "The
Dreamdare
and the
Novasky
. The
Daystar
's taken off to retrieve your brother."
"We'll see him soon?" Mikscn asks sharply.
Jye nods. "I'll be able to tell you more after we've got the adjunct aboard."
The docking bay hatch on one of the ships—the
Dreamdare
—opens and several people come striding down the expansive ramp. Jye scales down the front of the adjunct, and Mikscn follows closely. I stay where I'm perched, watching the strangers come closer.
Jye hugs the man in front, and they chat for a few seconds before Mikscn tilts his head back to look up at me, his hand shading his eyes. There's a warm pulse of reassurance and I sigh and start the climb down, shivering occasionally at the cold press of wind against my skin.
The man in front steps forward and holds out his hand. "You must be Temsha. I'm Bastien, captain of the
Dreamdare
." He's definitely Inali, with black hair and eyes, though his hair is short and a little shaggy, with a multicolored shimmer glistening in his irises. It's highly unusual to see an Inali off-planet and not on Maedbh's business, and one with short hair at that. He gestures to the man beside him, a man with blue eyes and long blond hair bound in a braid. "This is Ruadh, my boatswain and husband."
"Nice to meet you," I murmur, glancing at the two men who haven't been introduced.
"Fehr, weapons master," a tanned, scarred man says. "This is Jedn, senior gunner." He jerks his head at the young man standing at his side. "We need to disable your weapons before we load your mech up."
I bristle and Jedn shifts forward. "Not completely," he says, flicking a glance at Fehr. "Just shut the weapons systems down. It's my understanding that you can do that without too much trouble?"
"Yeah," I say, rocking back on my heels.
"Great." Bastien glances at Ruadh before nodding. "Let's get started."
*~*~*
Hours later, we finally get to sit down and talk. Besides Bastien, Ruadh, and Fehr, five other men and women filter into the meeting room we're led into. Mikscn and I claim the seats furthest from the door, Jye trailing along behind us. I've never liked being inside a ship. Everything's shiny and silver and cold, nothing at all like the soothing dark of the cockpit, and I refuse to sit with my back to the door.
We were at war with these people yesterday.
Bastien tenders quick introductions; Elen, Ross, Bess, Jack, and Wes make up the rest of the command structure on the ship. I let Mikscn play nice as I look everyone over. There's a careful professionalism to the set of their shoulders, a decided lack of hostility. Bastien clears his throat and passes around a set of wafer-thin screens that come alive under our fingers.
"We need to get this done quickly," Bastien says. "There's a possibility that your collars, though deactivated, are still sending out a signal. We have to move fast, just in case Jheghda sends someone after you two."
Someone mutters something about making a decision, but the door opens and everyone falls silent as a man slides into the room, muttering apologies as he finds a seat.
"And this is Emery, our initial force interface analyst," Bastien says.
Mikscn and I turn to look at him. "What," I say.
"He's the ship's anam," Jye says, reaching out to touch my hand.
I shift away, though, and cut a glare at Bastien. "Why do you call him that?"
Bastien's eyebrows drift up. "That's the technical name for his position aboard the ship," he says slowly.
"We heard rumors you people had anams," I bite out. "He's your ship's soul—call him that, instead of hiding him behind a title."
"It's okay," Emery cuts in. "I don't—"
"Don't let them disrespect you," I say, leaning forward. I gesture to his throat and the scars that rest in the grooves of his collarbone. "You were a slave, don't let them belittle your sacrifice with a nice, safe title."
"It doesn't matter," he snaps.
"You were someone's soul!" I exclaim. "Your trifecta—"
"Anam," Emery snarls, bolting to his feet. It takes me a second to realize he's talking to Jye. "Your pilot is obviously suffering from an abrupt desync. Control him or I will!"
I flinch away, bump into Mikscn, and panic jumps up my throat, my skin's too tight, the room's too small and I'm fucking
cornered
—
I slam through the door and into the opposite wall, my throat tightening as I sprint down the hall, my shoes squeaking on the cold metal until I find the room we were assigned. My hands are shaking as I jab the code they gave us into the keypad. I turn the handle and shove at the door, rattling it in its frame until the lock releases and I fall into the room. I slam the door closed and fall, curl into myself on the floor, and sob.
I don't know how long it is until I realize that someone's stroking my hair and murmuring reassurances. I turn my face further into Jye's leg, suddenly exhausted, and he presses his fingers to my lips.
"You with me now?" he whispers, and I nod jerkily.
"Sorry," I croak, and he hums.
"That was quite the freakout, babe. You want to talk about it?"
I just lay there for a couple of minutes, trying desperately not to
feel
anything. But Jye's scent, a little spicy and something like warm amber, keeps slip-sliding through my thoughts, and curls in somewhere next to where the panic and hopelessness is sitting.
"They don't respect their anam," I say, instead of what I want to.
Please stay with us
.
"They do," he says. "Just not the way you're used to."
"But he's one of us," I say, frowning. "He's used to that kind of respect."
"But he doesn't demand it from them. None of us demand respect." He flicks my hair away from my eyes. "You choose to give it to us. We don't always understand why it's such a … thing for you."
"Because we need you," I choke out. "If we don't appreciate you and what you do for us, what are we supposed to do when you're gone?"
He stills and I wince. "Temsha, look at me."
But I sit up and scrub my hands over my face, suddenly ashamed. Sex is an integral part of our culture, or what culture we've manage to carve out for ourselves. It's not expected that trifectas be sexually active with each other, but Mikscn and I were definitely the exception to the rule.
So while Jye may not consider it a burden to be sexual with us, it is so fucking selfish and inappropriate to hope that our relationship won't change now that we know the real reason he's here. And because I can't keep my stupid thoughts to myself, he's got to know that I—we—don't want him to leave.
"I'm going to take a nap," I say, climbing up onto the frankly minuscule bunk. "Mikscn can bring me up to speed later."
"I gave you an order," Jye snaps, pushing up behind me, and I go cold, then hot.
"I don't want to talk anymore," I say flatly.
"Well, too bad," he says, and I twist so I can kick at his legs.
"Leave me the fuck alone!" I exclaim, and he lunges forward to grab and pin my wrists.
I want to twist, to get my legs under him and shove him off, kick him out of the room, but the part of me that's been counting down until he leaves makes me stop.
Enjoy it while it lasts
.