No Rhyme or Treason, Part 2
28 May 2024Naomii
Read Part 1 Here!CHAPTER 2
The two of them stood facing each other in the dimly lit maintenance corridor. The Man in the Skull Mask was wearing an armored combat EVA suit. It was only now, after her eyes had adjusted to the dark, that she could also make out the outline of the weapon he had trained on her. He was serious about his threat.
Out of instinct, she started to reach for her suit shield control, only to remember a moment later that neither her formal jacket nor pencil skirt was equipped with any defensive technology.
Azimuth security was supposedly air tight. No one should have been able to sneak past the docking level with an unauthorized weapon, let alone a bulky suit of armor.
Then again, he was wearing the suit. She would need to speak with the security chief later about making sure the exterior hatches were locked down. Those would have been his only avenue of entry into the station that bypassed the mailslot and the arrivals terminal. An enemy vessel could theoretically sneak up to the station by concealing its heat signature. But to get close enough to actually dock with the station undetected. . .
At the moment though, she was captive. She had no choice other than to hear him out.
“Fine. Tell me what you want” She almost spat out the words through gritted teeth. “Just please, no more melodrama. I’ve had about as much as anyone deserves to put up with in a day.”
The masked man tilted his head slightly to his right, as if contemplating her exasperation. When he spoke again, she could swear that the painted skull on his helmet almost looked like it was grinning at her.
“Outsmarted and Outfoxed, the Onerous Order Operative Obfuscates Obligative Oppression to Obviate her Oblivion.”
Naomi lowered herself down on the grimy floor with a long, hopeless sigh. “Good fucking grief! You might as well just kill me now.”
The masked man continued, “Observe, Obey. Our Opportunity to Overthrow an Ominous Organization Occurs. Obtrude the Overprotected Office of the Old Overseer, Obtain his Opus Onto my Orbit while Our Opposition is Occupied by their Occasion. Our Other Option is your Outright Obliteration.”
Naomi groaned painfully. “Uuuughghhh! I seriously have, NO FUCKING IDEA, what you want. Shoot me, let me go, I don’t fucking care anymore after the day I’ve had, you fucking skull-faced motherfucker!”
“Very well.” The non-alliterative words nearly brought Naomi to tears. “Since you do not seem to share your colleagues’ currently festive mood, I will speak plainly. We’ve been watching you for quite some time, Ms. Moon-Khan. You’ve been on our hit list of Azimuth personnel since you first appeared on our radar in Wandrama.”
Naomi retorted, “What a fucking surprise.”
The masked man brandished his weapon towards her, a single finger raised on his other hand. “Do not be so quick to judge my intentions, Ms. Moon-Khan. When we sat across from each other at the negotiating table, I was left with an impression. Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe you consider yourself to be a woman of honor. Someone who would fight to protect innocent lives. You currently believe that that’s what you are doing right now, serving Azimuth on behalf of your Order.
What if I told you that you were being manipulated, and that your work is going to place billions of lives in jeopardy?”
At this point Naomi was too exhausted to have any idea how to respond to that accusation. She remained silent, waiting for him to finish.
“Are you familiar with the name Salomé?” He asked.
Naomi raised an eyebrow. “The dead Raxxla hunter? What does she have to do with any of this?”
The masked man continued, “Be patient, listen, and everything you’ve ever wondered about will start to make a whole lot of sense. We’re going to start with the tale of a lost megaship, the Zurara. . .”
* * *
Naomi rushed out of the turbolift into her quarters. Leaving behind a trail of garments between her front door and the bathroom. Her heart was still pounding from all that she had just experienced. It made sense. I really wish he hadn’t made any sense. Oh god.
The things the masked man had explained to her connected many disparate dots she had wondered about. She didn’t want to believe him, but she’d listened to the Zurara crew’s logs herself out in the Formidine Rift while on an expedition with the Order.
Then he presented recordings from The Alexandria. The Imperator had told her that it had been necessary to sacrifice a few lives on the Alexandria to protect billions. The evidence the masked man played for her described a massacre carried out to protect Azimuth’s power-hungry agenda, not the human race.
And then there was Hexedit. It was certainly possible that the supposedly divine visions granted to the members of the Order were mere delusions induced by the memory altering drug. Perhaps there was no great celestial struggle. Perhaps this Club had used their drug to create an army of fanatics willing to blindly push forward their Project Dynasty vision. Even the Imperator himself would have no reason to suspect that his visions weren’t genuine prophecy.
If it was true, that meant that everyone here had been manipulated by the Club into bringing about the destruction of the Bubble. All of it so that they could rule over what little was left standing after the Thargoids had swept through.
She still wasn't sure if any of it was true, but the evidence was sure to be in Salvation’s database, the database the Skull-faced man had tasked her with retrieving for him. She would be able to verify if what he said was true before handing it over. Not that he had given her much choice. She couldn’t risk alerting station security. Given his prior demonstration of control over the Coriolis stations systems, she was sure he would make good on his promise to vent the atmosphere from the staterooms where the galaxy’s political and corporate elite had gathered to watch Torben’s little show.
She stepped into the warm shower. The strong water pressure was almost the massage she needed. Leaning against the wall of the shower stall, the combination of the cool tiles she rested her face and chest on, and the warmth from the water on her back was almost soothing enough to let her forget.
She took a few moments to savor the sensations before the voice in her ear snapped her back to her new reality.
The masked man, “You don’t have much time. Rademaker is about to give his speech. If you aren’t there it will arouse suspicion.”
She replied, “Do you know what would definitely be suspicious, for Azimuth’s VP of marketing to show up to a black tie affair dressed like a slob, and stinking of the sewer levels. Me being fashionably late to that blohard’s party will be far easier for them to swallow.”
She deactivated the shower and reached for a towel while continuing to rant at him over her comms. “I’ve just agreed to basically throw my whole life away for your cause, the least you could do is reciprocate a little trust. You’ve faced me on the battlefield and as a diplomat. You, whoever the fuck you are, should understand that I know what I am doing. So please just shut up and give me a few goddamn minutes to make myself presentable!”
As if to taunt her, the masked man muttered poetically, “Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, when in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason?”
Naomi shouted at him, “Seriously! Are you done?” The silence from the other end of the line felt smug, but she welcomed the apparent reprieve.
“Verity, mirror, open cosmetics editor.”
Her COVAS assistant responded in its robotic but still feminine tone, “Yes Commander. Let’s get you ready for the party.”
A holographic reflection of Naomi shimmered into existence before her. The COVAS chimed, “Loading complete. Would you like to apply a preset configuration or create a custom profile?”
“Verity, select category, formal occasions.” She swiped through a few different makeup designs before settling on one. “Apply preset. Match eyeshadow and nail shade to the ball gown hanging on my closet door. Oh and Verity, obscure my tattoos.”
Naomi felt the tingle on her skin as the cosmetics nanogel the shower had deposited on her skin did its work. She looked down at her body and watched the blue Guardian circuit pattern of her Order tattoos fade away, first from her lower legs, then her thighs, hips, waist, breasts, and finally her shoulders and face. Though she needed to look at her reflection to observe the last of them disappearing.
Every member of the Order bore such tattoos. They were part of the initiation rites. Supposedly the ink was laced with nanites that would allow the wearer to interface with the Guardian data network, but she had never experienced anything to back up that assertion. And she’d spent plenty of time at Guardian ruins. However, they did feel a bit warmer in the presence of Thargoid ships. And she swore they turned a slightly greener shade. But in those situations, she was usually too focused on her immediate survival to pay close enough attention to her tattoos to be sure.
DING. “Makeover complete. Is there anything else I can assist you with, Commander?”
“No. Thank you, Verity.” Naomi knew the COVAS assistant didn’t have feelings, but she couldn't help but be polite. It was in her nature to be nice to those that were nice to her.
“It was my pleasure, Commander. Enjoy the party.” Verity concluded.
Naomi mumbled a response, more to herself than to her COVAS, as she returned to her bedroom to finish dressing. “I think it might already be too late for that Verity.”
“What was that?” The masked man’s voice startled Naomi. For a moment, she had actually forgotten he was still in her ear. “You need to get moving. Rademaker has already started his little speech.”
“Chill the fuck out, would you? I just need another minute, unless you want me to show up to the conference naked.” She grinned slyly.
The masked man’s lack of amusement was clear in his response. “No, do not do that. Finish quickly.” Naomi savored the man’s discomfort. The flirting helped her feel like she still had a little bit of control. A small victory over one who currently held all the cards.
An awkward thought crossed her mind. ”You can’t see me through this thing, right? You can only listen?”
“The device I gave you is used for encrypted communications with field assets. I’m sure you are familiar with the concept.” He hadn’t exactly answered the question, but she decided to let the matter drop. He still had his finger on the trigger that would kill her and the rest of the conference guests if he wished it.
She slipped into her ball gown, a long navy blue, halter top dress, with sequins. She sat down at the edge of her bed to put on her shoes, a pair of white, high-heeled sandals. “All right, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She stood back up, almost losing her balance. She was a bit dizzy from the stress.
“It’s time.” The masked man spoke again. This time in a tone that almost painted a picture of a gentleman holding out his arm for her to steady herself with as she walked towards the elevator. “Shall we dance?”
Read Part 3 Here!