Jerks. There’s always at least one in the mix.  Any group of more than three people has at least one.  Usually they’ll be working overtime to screw everyone else in the room.  Until you find a way to stop them, anyway.  Then woe be to everyone if you can’t stop them dead in their tracks and eliminate the possibility of backlash.  Usually, you can’t.  Then things go from bad to worse.

— Sarah Farragut, circa 4855 PD

 

27 Novem, 5249 PD

“I will have order in this chamber!  Sit down, Marshal Rose!”

Daciana Rose slowly sank back down into her seat, face still flushed with rage as she glared toward D’Arcy Morgause, then slowly turned to regard the aging Speaker, Sergei Petremoore, her expression softening only slightly as she curbed her tongue.  “I’m sorry, Speaker, but I cannot stand for having my late husband’s memory denigrated by a snake in a man’s skin.”

D’Arcy Morgause shot to his feet again.  “Speaker, tell me I do not have to stand for such slanderous language in this august chamber!  I demand an apology from the Marshal.”

Across the chamber from both of them, Marshal Adam Windsor looked as if he was starting to get a migraine.  He exchanged a veiled look with Rachel Farragut, a longtime member of the Rose Council and rumored to be the Speaker’s top choice for his own replacement when the time came—a time that was coming soon, if Adam could guess at it.

Rachel took a deep breath and stood slowly.  “D’Arcy, sit down.  The Marshal is entitled to her opinion of you and given your lack of forthrightness with this Council since her return from Urgarthe, I can hardly blame her for the opinion she’s formed.  Unless, of course, you have new intelligence to share with us that might cause Marshal Rose to reassess her opinion of you in the wake of your rather insulting comments toward the late and lamented Inspector Rose?”

That seemed to take the wind out of D’Arcy’s sails and he slowly seated himself again.  “I’m afraid at this time I have no further intelligence to share with the Council, no.  There is no new word from my agents at the Whispers regarding the disposition of the port or its inhabitants.”

“Its disposition is that it’s been completely destroyed,” Adam growled, straightening in his seat as Rachel sank back down into hers.  “It has no further disposition.  We are, however, expecting the first load of refugees within the next forty-eight hours.”  And once they’re here, they’ll be able to corroborate the images that the team brought back with America and Grant.  Their voices will tell the story that we’ve only got in images and video right now.

Amelda Watson tilted her head slightly, leaning forward against her elbows.  “Do we have an idea on numbers, Marshal Windsor?”

“Not yet, ma’am, but the ship dispatched by Mission Systems from the asteroid cluster can’t carry more than two hundred even if you pack them like cordwood.  We expect maybe half that, based on reports.”  Based on what Lindsay saw.

“Then we do not expect many survivors?”

“No ma’am, not many at all.  Reports have the place bombed almost down to bedrock.”  He didn’t look at Rachel.  He couldn’t without tipping his hand, but he didn’t need to look to know the look in her eye.  Sections of Mimir’s capital had fallen victim to similar attacks decades before.  His wife had never gotten over that.  Then again, no member of the Psychean Guard had truly gotten over that.

“And the Oracle?  Does this fit any of her recent visions?”  Amelda looked at Rachel.

“Yes, Amelda,” Rachel said softly.  “It does fit at least one of her visions.”

“Where is the Oracle?  She had been in attendance for weeks and now that the Whispers has been bombed she feels she no longer has to grace us with her presence?”  D’Arcy made little attempt to mask his contempt mixed with fear for the young psychic known to those who did not truly know her simply as the Oracle.

“I imagine she is reacquainting herself with her parents, Consul Morgause,” Daciana supplied in a clipped tone.  “They are only recently rescued, after all.  Seven days ago?”

Rachel inclined her head slightly.  “I imagine Marshal Rose is correct.  It will take some adjustment for Commander Channing and my sister to get used to being here on E-557.  They’ve spent a great deal of time in captivity in conglomerate space.”

D’Arcy arched a brow.  “I imagine that it’s more likely, Marshal Rose, that she’s spending time with that refugee pilot that brought them back to us.  The one Marshal Windsor has been championing for the past five years and who the Oracle Bonded without so much as a word to this council.”

Kara Grace arched an eyebrow delicately.  “The last time I checked, Consul Morgause, members of this council didn’t have to bring it to a vote if they chose to marry.”

“The majority of this council isn’t the Oracle, Consul Grace.”

Mugabe Zenak was rubbing at his temple, now, looking as if he was ready to just get up and leave whether the Speaker dismissed the council or not.  Aidan Church, the third of the Marshals, cleared his throat quietly.

“Speaker, if there’s no further business, perhaps we should adjourn for the afternoon?  There’s a great deal of work to be done tonight before nightfall for those of us of a more martial profession, I’m afraid.”

The Speaker nodded wearily, looking vaguely relieved at being offered an excuse to dimiss the Council for the day.  “I think that would be best.  Council is adjourned.”  He held up a hand to forestall further argument from D’Arcy.  “Save it for the next meeting, Consul Morgause, please.  As you said, you don’t have anything of import regarding the Whispers to share with us, so it can wait.  Marshal Rose is not the only one short of patience this afternoon.”

Daciana gave D’Arcy a look that could melt steel as she vacated her seat in the circular chamber and made her way over to Rachel and Adam, grimacing.  Kara joined them a moment later, her brow furrowed.

“How did he find out about Brendan and Lindsay, Rachel?  This is the second time he brought it up.”

Rachel shook her head slowly, expression tight.  “I don’t know,” she said quietly.  “But I’m not really sure it matters all that much.  It was bound to come out sooner or later.  They’ve been Bonded for years now.”

Kara shook her head slightly.  “Is she really with her parents?”

Rachel thought for a moment, then nodded.  “More than likely, yes.  Your brother was taking out the last fragments of Brendan’s implant today and he asked Alana to keep Lindsay away from the clinic until he gave her the all-clear.  She’s probably at the house right now with them.”  She smiled wryly at Daci.  “That means you were right again and D’Arcy was wrong.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Adam mumbled, shaking his head.  “I can’t take many more senseless shouting matches with him, Daci.”

“You heard what he said about Freder.”

“I know what he said.”  Adam sighed.  “But he’s an idiot, Daci, and idiots are entitled to their opinions, however misinformed they might be.  He’ll learn his lesson eventually about making enemies.  Of course, you will, too.”

Daci made a face at the more senior marshal and shook her head slightly.  “He’s going to learn soon.  One way or another.  If I’m going to be stuck here instead of at Urgarthe, he’s going to learn the lesson quickly.  Maybe violently, maybe not.  I’m not really sure yet.  Haven’t decided.”

“Hopefully you won’t be doing the teaching, Daci,” Rachel said, shaking her head.  “At least we know that he didn’t peg Freder for who he actually was when he was here playing Adam’s aide.  Come on.  Let’s go home.  I’ve got dinner to make.”

“Thank you again for those herbs, Rachel.”  Kara squeezed Rachel’s arm before she started to step away.  “I’ll send up a bottle of wine with Ezra the next time he’s heading up to your place.”

Rachel smiled.  “Send two.  Lindsay could stand to relax a little.”

Kara laughed as she headed up the short flight of steps and out of the Council chamber.  Rachel shook her head slightly and tucked herself under Adam’s waiting arm.  “Did you want a ride, Daci, or are you going to walk back?”

Daci shook her head.  “I don’t need to do that much head-clearing.  I’ll take a ride.  Gratefully.”

“All right.  Let’s get moving, then.”

 •           •           •

 The kettle whistled on the stove and Lindsay pushed herself up from the kitchen table to take care of it as the kitchen door swung open.  She smiled at her aunt, Adam, and Daci as they trooped into the kitchen from outside, bringing the chill of autumn with them.  “You’re just in time.  I was about to make tea.”

“Make the peppermint,” Rachel said, slumping into a chair.  “I think we could all use it.”

Lindsay’s nose wrinkled.  “It was that bad?  I’m glad I stayed here.”

America Farragut glanced from her daughter to her sister, then laid her hand over Rachel’s.  “You look as tired as Mom used to look when she came home after a long day dealing with the donors.”

“I wish this was that uncomplicated.”  Rachel smiled weakly, squeezing America’s hand.  “Where’s Grant?”

“He’s taking a walk.  He’s so tired of being cooped up he had to get out and do something.  I stayed with Lindsay and Freder.”  America glanced up toward Adam and Daci.  “He’s going to get on you two about letting him help.  I give it another two days.”

“I’d give it more like two hours.”  Frederick Rose limped into the kitchen and seated himself in the chair Lindsay had vacated when she got up to make the tea.  “You know him.”

Adam shook his head, frowning as he slowly seated himself next to Freder.  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for him to be jumping in with both feet this quickly.  He’s about eighteen years out of date.”

America smiled helplessly and stood up to help her daughter with the tea.  “You know that won’t stop him, Grumpy.  He won’t care, he’ll just want you to bring him up to speed.  And probably try to pull rank doing it.  You know him.”

The big man shook his head and sighed softly, leaning back in his chair.  “You’re right.  I do know him.  I’ll just have to impress upon him that he’s not the commander here.  That should take about three months.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.  “Is Alana taking a nap, Lindsay?”  She gratefully accepted one of the mugs of tea from her niece, leaning back in her chair.

“No, I sent her to follow Dad after I promised her about a thousand times that I wasn’t going to go anywhere.”  Lindsay smiled wryly.  “He doesn’t know his way around yet and the last thing we need is him getting hopelessly lost.”

“He probably would, too.”

“Freder!”

Freder grinned.  “He’s not here to nail me for saying it.  Got to get my cracks out of my system before he gets back.  I don’t want to get hit.”

“He wouldn’t hit you, sweetheart.”  Daci leaned down and wrapped her arms around Freder’s shoulders, dropping a kiss onto his temple.

“Wanna bet?  Cripple or no cripple, he’d hit me.”  Freder dipped his chin to kiss Daci’s wrist before taking a mug of tea from Lindsay with a grin.  He winked at the girl before taking a sip of the steaming tea.

“He’d get a rude awakening if he did.”

“Daci, you’d hit my father?”  Lindsay slid into one of the empty chairs at the table, reaching across to retrieve the book she was reading from in front of Freder.

“I’d hit anyone who hit Freder, Lindsay.  Doesn’t matter who they are.”  Daci grinned and stole a sip of her husband’s tea before straightening up.  “Though right now I’d like to string D’Arcy Morgause up by his balls.”

“Uh-oh.  Now what?”

Rachel waved a hand.  “More of the same.”

America frowned slightly, resuming her seat at the table.  “It sounds like he’s quite a problem for the Council, just from the way you’re all talking about him.  What does he do, anyway?”

Lindsay leaned back in her chair, cradling her mug between both hands.  “Purportedly he’s the Council’s spymaster.”

“Purportedly?”

“He keeps more information to himself than he shares with the Council.”  Adam tapped a fingertip against the tabletop as he settled in next to Rachel.  “He almost prevented us from going after you and Grant, Meri.  If we’d left it up to him, you two would be dead or worse.”

Lindsay winced and took a long swallow of tea.  “You wouldn’t have let that happen, Uncle Adam.”

Adam shrugged slightly.  “Probably not.  Your aunt would’ve killed me.  Luckily Ezra solved that problem for us after we dragged nominal confirmation out of D’Arcy.  We didn’t need him anymore.”

America shook her head slowly, frowning deeply.  “He doesn’t sound like he’s a good fit for his job.  How did he end up the spymaster for the Council if he spends most of his time keeping secrets from it?”

“He’s from old Foundation stock.”  Rachel shook her head.  “That counts for a lot around here, just like being old Guard stock counted for a lot back home.  The worst of it is, he’s the first bad one in the bunch.  His family’s been on the Council for the past three generations.  His father was wonderful.”  She took a long, slow swallow of tea.  “But the fact that his father and his grandfather were beyond reproach is going to make it very difficult for anyone to fire him.  I’m not sure Sergei has the energy to deal with that.”

“Sergei doesn’t have the energy to deal with the war, Rachel.”  Adam’s fingers wrapped around hers.  “He’s going to retire and he’s going to do it soon.”

Rachel grimaced and stared down into her mug.

America raised a brow.  “What’s that about?  I mean, you told me that Sergei’s the head of the Council.  If he retires, does this D’Arcy get to be Speaker, or what?  What does it mean?”

“Adam thinks that Sergei’s going to ask Rachel to be Speaker.”  Daci leaned against the back of Freder’s chair and brushed a few strands of dark hair out of her face.  “I’m not sure he’s wrong.”

Rachel shook her head again.  “It won’t be me.  It’ll be Amelda.”

“Amelda, for all of her strength, doesn’t have the stamina and doesn’t have the experience whoever becomes Speaker is going to need, Eaglet.”  Adam squeezed her hand.  “She’s the same generation he is.  He’ll choose someone younger.  You.”

Rachel sighed.  Lindsay leaned against her arms and watched her aunt across the table.  “Would it be so terrible?  I mean…I know what’s coming.  I’d rather have you running the Council than Sergei dying in the attempt.  I think it would kill him, Aunt Rachel, to try to run the Council in a wartime setting.  And if you say no, I think he’ll try.  And it’ll kill him.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed as she stared at her niece, the Oracle.  “Have you seen something, Lindsay?”

She shook her head.  “No.  But I have a feeling.  I haven’t seen anything since Brendan came home, thank god.”  Her fingers tightened around the mug for a moment before she noticed and she consciously forced herself to relax them.

Her mother smiled sadly at her.  “He’s going to be fine, Lindsay.  You’ll see.”

Lindsay’s smile was watery.  “I hope so, Mom.  He’d better be, or else I get to hurt Uncle Adam.”  The smile grew for half a moment, then Lindsay stood up, picking up her book and her mug.  “…I’m going to go lay down and read.”

“He said he’d let you know as soon as there was word, Linny-pie,” Adam said softly.

“I know,” she murmured.  “It’s the waiting that’s hard.”  She smiled tightly and slipped out of the kitchen.

Rachel sighed and shook her head.  “I never imagined that she’d go through something like this with him.  Even with him being a pilot and all of that, even though we knew that eventually something bad would happen back in Commonwealth space.  I never thought she’d have to go through this kind of hell.”

Adam squeezed her hand.  America smiled a little.

“You did a good job with her, little sister.”

Rachel blinked a little, looking at America.  “What?”

“Bringing her up for me.  You did a good job.”

Rachel laughed weakly and shook her head.  “How could I do any less?  Grant would have killed me.”

America started to laugh.  “Gee, somewhere along the line my husband got to be a lot more violent than I ever remember him being.”

Freder grinned.  “We were always familiar with different sides of your husband, Meri.  He could be downright brutally nasty when he wanted to be.  Didn’t make him a bad guy, just a mean bastard sometimes.”

“Casting aspersions on my character again, Freder?  Some things never change.”  Grant stepped into the kitchen through the back door, Alana trailing quietly in his wake.  He wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the temple.  “If you didn’t look so damned pitiful, I’d do something about it.”

Freder’s grin didn’t fade one bit as he leaned back in his chair.

Alana frowned slightly.  “Where’s Lindsay?”

“Laying down, reading.  Something wrong?”

“No.  Not at all.  She just promised me that she wasn’t going to go anywhere and I was making sure she didn’t change her mind or something.”  Alana scratched the back of her neck with her cybered hand, one that once upon a time had made her one of the most deadly agents in the employ of the Eurydice Compact, one that she swore scared children these days.  “I’m going to go for a run.”

“Are you sure?  I’m going to start dinner,” Rachel said, despite the fact that she was making no attempt to get out of her chair.

Alana nodded.  “I’m sure.  Don’t worry about me.  I’ll take care of myself.”

Rachel arched a brow and nodded.  “All right.  Enjoy the run.  You going to come back here tonight?”

Alana glanced at Grant, then back at Rachel and shook her head.  “I don’t think so.”  She smiled a little and waved to the rest before stepping down the kitchen door.

Rachel looked at Grant, brow furrowed.  “What was that about?”

Grant attempted to look innocent and failed.  “I told her that it was time to start living her life for herself for a change.  All debts repaid.  I want her to be happy.  Sandro would want her to be happy.”

“That’s all?”

He nodded.  “That’s all.”

Rachel nodded thoughtfully and stared at the door Alana had just disappeared through.

Of course.

Ezra.

•           •           •

 Ezra Grace stepped quietly out onto the back porch of his house and clinic, staring out at the sun as it slowly started to go down over the hillside woodlands west of the small city’s center.  His breath steamed slightly in the evening chill and he crossed his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits to keep them warm.  He let his eyes relax and let the tension slowly drain out of the muscles of his shoulders and back.  It had been slow, tedious work, and more stressful by half than it ordinarily would have been.  Then again, he usually wasn’t operating on his closest friend.

“Ezra?”

He startled, then flinched, finally exhaling slowly as he turned toward the sound of her voice.  “Alana.  You scared me.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.”  She boosted herself up and climbed the railing on the porch to join him.  Her blonde hair was swept up into a tight ponytail, her clothing loose, arms bare despite the chill.  She wasn’t even winded, even though he knew she’d probably been running for hours.  “How is he?”

“Stable.  Resting.”  Ezra leaned against the railing and continued to stare out at the woods.  “I think I cleaned it all up.  He’s still going to want to take me apart with his bare hands when he wakes up.”

Alana eased close to him and shook her head.  “He won’t.  You’re his friend, and he’s yours.  He’s not going to be that angry.”  She smiled a little.  “After all, he doesn’t have that many friends in the first place, now does he?”

Ezra snorted a little.  “More than you do, ‘lana.”

“That’s because I don’t need friends.  He does.  He’s a social creature at heart.  I’m a heartless monster.”

The doctor glanced at the former black ops soldier and smiled faintly, shaking his head.  “You’re not a heartless monster.”

“Kind of you to think so, Ezra.”  She smiled and stared out at the woods.  “Lindsay will be happy to hear that he’s going to recover fully.”

“Is that why you came out here?  To find out how Brendan’s doing for Lindsay?”

“…no,” she admitted quietly.

“Then why did you come?”  Ezra straightened, stretching a little as he turned his gaze toward the sunset again.

Awkwardly, Alana settled her flesh and blood arm around his shoulders and leaned against him.  Ezra went tense momentarily, blinking, then looked at her.  She smiled at him, almost shyly.  “It’s time for me to start living my own life,” she said quietly.  “And letting go of the past.  Starting with me not holding everyone at arm’s length anymore.  Like you.”

Ezra slowly slid his arms around her, looking down at her with a creased brow.  “What brought this on?  Not that I’m complaining.”

“Commander Channing and I had a talk.  A long talk.  Lindsay’s fault, really.  I think she could tell that there was a lot of unfinished business.  So she sent me to keep an eye on him when he took a walk this afternoon during the Council meeting.  Probably realized that he’d notice me following him and we’d get to talking.”  She exhaled slowly.  “He forgave me.  For a lot of things.  And thanked me.  And then he told me that I deserved to be happy and I didn’t have to take care of Lindsay anymore, that she’d be fine without me now.  That kind of leaves me at loose ends for the first time in forever.”  She sighed a little, staring off at the trees behind his house.  “You’re the only one who looks at me and sees a person first, Ezra.  That’s important to me even if I’ve never said it.”

Ezra smiled at her a little.  “You didn’t try to make that easy, you know.”

“I know.  But I felt like I had to keep everyone at an arm’s length or more.  To protect her, to protect me.”  She smiled weakly.  “I carry a lot of guilt and a lot of regrets.  Mostly guilt.”  Alana took a deep breath and a measure of vulnerability vanished behind a veil of strength.  She smiled tightly at Ezra.  “Will you schedule it for me?”

His brow furrowed.  “Schedule what?”

She held up her cybered arm.  “Will you schedule it for me?”

It took a moment for him to realize what she was asking him.  She wants to get that undone.  Finally.  And I asked her to put it on hold when we went to rescue Grant and Meri…  He sucked in a breath quietly and prayed she wouldn’t hear it.  “Are you sure?  There’s still a war coming.  You’re one of the most deadly people I know.”

“Even without the enhancements, I’ll still be one of the most deadly people you know.  Cybernetics don’t make you deadly.  They just make you deadlier.”  Alana rested her metal-sheathed hand on the railing, staring at it for a few long moments before looking at Ezra again.  “Schedule it.  I’m tired of being a soldier.  I’m tired of being a killer.”

Ezra reached down and took that hand, squeezed it despite the coolness of the metal sheath over flesh and bone.  He knew that she’d feel it.  The metal was thin enough that it only muffled sensation.  It didn’t kill it entirely.

“Okay,” he said quietly, looking at her.  “When?”

“As soon as possible,” she murmured.  “The sooner the better.”  She smiled weakly.  “Just in case.  The sooner it’s done, the sooner I recover, right?”

Ezra’s eyes crinkled slightly as he looked at her and nodded slightly.  “Right.”  The arm around her tightened and she leaned into his chest, brow furrowing.

“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“Probably less than it did going in.”

She shook her head slightly.  “I barely remember that.  It was a really long time ago.  I was a child.”

Ezra’s stomach twisted as he imagined a young Alana being having cybernetics installed.  It wasn’t a pretty process at any age, and if they’d started when she was young, it had been just that—a long, painful process.  His arm tightened more and she turned toward his side, pressing her chest against his flank and sliding both arms around his waist.

“They just don’t care, do they?”  He murmured.  “They make you into what they decide they want you to be and damn the consequences.”

“It could have been worse.  I could have been sterilized and tossed to the scientists.  That’s what would have happened if they’d figured it out.  Or worse, not sterilized and thrown to the scientists.  I thank my lucky stars every day that they decided I’d make a good soldier.”

“You never manifested any ability.”

Alana shook her head slightly.  “No.  But it wouldn’t have mattered if I did.  I beat the tests because I knew what they looked for.  No one was going to take that chance if I’d scanned positive.”  She pressed her face into the crook between his neck and his jaw.  “I knew I had to run,” she murmured softly.  “I always knew I had to run.  Somehow get to the Guard.  I just never could until Commander Channing showed up and by that time, the Guard was dead and there was nowhere to go but here.”

“Do you regret it?”  Ezra asked, voice quiet.

“No,” she said softly.  “Not anymore.  I used to.  I used to resent it, but I resented a lot of things.  Then I got to thinking about it and I realized that everything happens for a reason.  Rachel’s good at helping people figure that out.”

Ezra nodded mutely, looking at her.  He reached with his free hand and gently brushed the hair away from her face.  His thoughts twisted as his stomach tightened.  Nerves.  Why?  She was here, arms around him.  He’d been imagining this for months.

Her brow creased slightly.  “What’s wrong?”

“What do you want for dinner?”  The words had been unexpected, but they kept coming, tumbling over each other.  “I haven’t eaten yet and I need to make something.  Do you want to stay?”

Alana smiled and nodded, expression soft.  “Yeah.  I’d like that.  I’d like it a lot.”

Ezra smiled, nodding back.  “All right.  Let’s go make dinner.  It’s getting cold out here.”

“Just one more minute,” Alana said quietly, arms tightening around him for a moment.  She stared at the sky, starting to turn orange and red at the lowest edges as the sun slipped past the horizon.  Ezra ran his fingers tentatively through her hair.  Her arms tightened again for a moment, then loosened.  She finally released him as the trailing edge of the sun faded from view.  “All right,” she whispered.  “Let’s go inside.  You’re right, it is getting chilly and I’m getting cold.”

“I’ve got extra blankets.”

She smiled at him as she stepped back.  “We’ll see if I need them.”

They were halfway into the house before he realized what she was implying.  By then, all he could do was smile.