By David C. Daoust
Suzanne had begun her exercise regiment when she was very young. Younger even than her peers, that she would eventually train with. At least that’s what her father claimed. He joked often how many times she would mimic his movements, even as a toddler, as he practiced his own exercises. Exercises comprised of slow paced meditative movements, which mirrored many of the attack moves taught to the Constables of the Ark Age. Some so ancient, no originator could be named. Eventually the pace would pickup; the movements would become violent and forceful. It kept her body strong, her mind sharp, and, well, it felt good.
Normally these exercises began every morning, as soon as she rolled out of bed. This day though, she found herself preoccupied with her operations imploding, all by the hands of her sweet sister Dakota.
Suzanne’s actions on Twin Crown were a result of the consequences she and her agents had faced on the outskirts of Dori 5. Shutting down the nanites had a way of summoning the Wraiths. Suzanne thought it best NOT to repeat the incident on Dori 5. Dakota felt otherwise, apparently. If Suzanne had known there would be such dire consequences, well, obviously she would not have done any of it. Not on Twin Crown, nor Dori 5.
Looking back, Suzanne should not have flushed both Twin Crown and Dori 5’s energy cells at the same time. But how could she know that the nanites would migrate into people’s lungs? How could she know that it would create an epidemic throughout the two locations? This is what Suzanne Otomo was thinking as she brought her leg up high, and then around in a perfect arc as her body dipped down to counter it. These were the thoughts she needed to calm in her exercises, which was why she’d decided to go through the regiment so late in the day, despite missing her normal morning hour.
One leg then the other, she squatted low and came up fast. All took place on her holo-stage, which she did most of her work from, everything from business meetings, to looking-in on agents in the field. Most of the intelligence officers, that had previously filled her HQ, had cleared out. Though, even if they had been present, they were accustomed to her regiment; many found it impressive. Her training as a Constable was pretty rare even amongst the Seaguard. Real Constables were thought to be going extinct. Those men and women that currently policed the City-stations, were a far cry from the secret assassins that held the Constable title in the Ark Age. Such training simply was not needed anymore. Not in the current City-stations, which many of the Consortium, Suzanne amongst them, considered a relic of a bygone age. She couldn’t understand why anyone would still willingly choose to live in such a place… But whatever, to each their own she guessed.
Suddenly, word came of the arrival of her Wraith. Something she had been dying to get her hands on. She knew she didn’t want to miss a second of it, though she also knew the lab would be a busy place, and she would probably be standing there gawking like an idiot, with no real use beyond looking over Dakota’s shoulder.
Holo-stages were nice. She could call up a hologram of the room and see everything, without even having to project her own image into the room. She was like a ghost, no one could so much as sense her. Often she would piggyback on her agents in the field. Of course in the field there were limitations. The holo-scanner, often attached to the agents shoulder, could only read their perimeter, a straight shot from the device. It often left holes in the hologram she received on her stage, walls tended to be paper thin, with no representation whatsoever of anything on the other side… But on her own ship, she had cameras all over, which meant the hologram would be just like being in the room itself.
So when the stark white walls suddenly appeared around her, and she found Dakota diligently at work, Suzanne could peer right over her shoulder, without disturbing so much as a hair on her head. Suzanne wasn’t sure what Dakota had been working on before her people brought in the Wraith, she was accustomed to Dakota’s pet projects. Whatever kept her happy… And working… Often they would prove to be profitable.
Dakota went straight to typing away at the terminal in front of her. Suzanne raised an eyebrow as the good doctor looked around uncomfortably to see if anyone had noticed that her scans came back blank. Then almost laughed as the woman pretended nothing had happened. Finally, Dakota got up and started studying the thing, all of which was so not interesting to watch.
“Just open the freaking thing up already!” Suzanne said out loud, though knew no one could hear her.
Suzanne’s head dropped in exhaustion as the small blond had to take a break from trying to remove the oversized dome that sealed the suit shut. What could be in there? What could it be? Suzanne wanted to see! And Dakota was just standing there. Finally the dome came away, and Suzanne was taken aback. What?
Suddenly the lights started flashing red throughout the HQ. The fact that it had happened so quickly after she had laid eyes on the strange pale child that was crying out, in some strange tongue she’d never heard before, made her think the two things may be connected. But the red lights weren’t flashing in the lab, which meant she was the only one startled. The only one reacting. Her HQ was suddenly flooded with officers trying to figure out what was going on. Suzanne was forced to leave the holo-stage before she could learn any more about the child.
Their cloaking device had been compromised, and there was a Wing of Red Fighters flying in hot!
Reports soon followed of the Barracks ship not far off, and their shields were suddenly being pounded with enemy fire; Searching for any weak spot to exploit! Her commanders had already deployed counter measures and pilots were being mustered to get their Wing in the black.
The Commissar was hitting her back! She couldn’t believe it! Consortium owned the Onion! Ivan was a pipsqueak political officer, she doubted he had the authority for such a bold move, but if he wanted a fight, she’d give him one. She ordered control of a turret to be run through her holo-stage as she took up a set of controls. The hologram suddenly flipped from the stark white lab she no longer had time for, to the starry night sky of deep space. She found herself standing on the hull of the ship, as she spun the set of cannons with the small device in her hands. The small red fighters zipped over head, their weapon fire shattering against the shields. Her blaster fire could slide right through her own shield, from the other side without weakening it, so she sent a line of blaster fire chasing after the nearest Red Fighter. Many other turrets followed suit. Soon the stars were lit with blasters, firing every which direction as Red Fighters zipped through the darkness, answering fire with fire. The intensity of the battle gripped Suzanne, she focused her will upon the controls within her grip.
For the win!
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