(Disclaimer for violent content. A past Jenny blog from her point of view can be found here.)
Golden energy hung in the air, mixing with embers and ash from the burning house and orchards. Bodies of Dominion soldiers littered the scorched earth of the former hideaway, and amidst the shouts and explosions of fighting rose the panicked cries of soldiers trapped inside a burning hovercraft.
Electricity ripped through the air as Cora exploded out of the Void. Two dead Spellslingers tumbled out after her and before a row of soldiers could fire she gated away, dragging the closest victim with her.
For ten years she had evaded them, hidden in the vast stretches of space as the crippled cult struggled to recover. She had found peace and purpose even as the years of experimenting with the Void took a toll on her body.
And then they had found her. She couldn’t figure out how. She didn’t have time to. Cora had managed to send her child away to the hope of safety before the ships descended on the mountain valley. Without her pistols, Cora had drawn the final runes on her neck and her arms, and now her body glowed and smoked like her mag pistols might have as the occultic glyphs burned into her skin.
Bursting out of the Void as the Dominion soldiers reformed their lines, blue and gold spells swirled about her. Rifles and resonators took aim as the lone woman dove at the center Mechari that sprung to attack when the groan of the collapsing house was drowned out by otherworldly roars. On either side of her a dozen Void creatures appeared, and tore into the enemy lines, routing them and sending wounded survivors scrambling back to the transports that were landing on the road.
The Mechari chased her, the only one among the attacking forces that seemed able to keep up with the fugitive slinger. Cora gated around the valley rapidly, replacing the first wave of summoned beings with new ones and sending bolts of orange, violet, and white energy tearing into the ships. She vanished, and reappeared above their heads, dropping down onto an assembling mec like meteor, and flashing through the scattered ranks to slam the Mechari to the ground.
They were right to send so many after her, but Cora knew she couldn’t keep it up for much longer. Between her Void slips several shots had hit home, and the Mechari’s clawed hands had landed several painful blows. But she couldn’t stop. The Empress was still nearby. John, Jenny — she couldn’t let them get taken. She wouldn’t.
Half a dozen spells active around her, the Void glowed like a beacon from her constant gating and use. She could feel the protective wards around the Valley strain as darker things were drawn to the bloodshed. Healing spells she cast were in vain as her battle shifted from the retreating soldiers to a one-on-one fight with the towering Mechari. But she almost had him. One more jump and she —
Then Cora saw it. At the edge of the clearing, out of the corner of her eye she saw the whips of red hair. The blue eyes wide with fear, and the pistol too big for the little hands that held it trained on the hulking construct. For the first time in that hour she felt the crippling grip of fear.
In a split second Cora saw the Mechari’s attention shift towards the hiding child, and her mind was made. Leaping out of the Void, her arm outstretched, the Mechari’s massive hand grasped her head even as her glowing fingers brushed at his face plate.
Raesh.
Cora felt nothing as the metal hand twisted, shattering her spine. Her life had expired as John appeared, took up their child, and teleported away even as the Mechari lifted its free hand to shoot. Everything was bright, but the peace she should have felt was tainted by something terribly wrong as her body disintegrated into a cloud of Void light, mixing with the spell filtering out of the robot’s chassis. And she never saw the Mechari’s arm make a sickening twist before plunging into its own soul core.
Can you define a turning point in your character’s life? Multiples are acceptable.
~ ~ ~ ~
The heavily damaged Mechari had ceased moving. Narrow slits of its visor that served as eyes glowed red as it stood, waiting and calculating.
Before Jenny could begin to wonder why, the Mechari’s right arm snatched out with an unnatural speed right as Cora gated in, it’s massive hand grasping the woman’s head. Jenny couldn’t quite process the sudden sharp motion of the Mechari’s arm, or the way her mother’s body suddenly went limp at an unnatural angle in the construct’s grasp. Somewhere in the back of her mind the ten year old wanted to put sound to it, something to break the sudden stillness and the constant hum of the transport’s engine. But there was nothing.
A visceral fear gripped her, and even as Jenny flipped off the pistol’s safety and aimed it at the towering creature she couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? Tears fogged her eyes as the glowing visor turned up to fix on the girl’s location, but her finger wouldn’t pull the trigger, and her body refused to respond as a searing pain of loss tore through her chest.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Benton! Ya got a minute?”
A clatter of tools sounded from inside the starboard engine room. “Yeah, boss!”
Jenny sulked, shooting a misty-eyed glare up at her father before crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.
“Don’t look at me like that, sweetie,” John murmured wearily, long days and sleepless nights showing on his face to mix with the emptiness in his eyes that came from grief.
“Hi-ya, Captain. What can I do ya for?” Benton, chief engineer and a granok of a human stepped around the massive generator to approach the two. He wiped his oily hand on a stained cloth before reaching to tussle young Jenny’s hair.
“Pumpkin, mind if I talk to Benton alone for a moment?”
Jenny looked defiantly up at the men. “Don’ gotta talk b’hind mah back, ya know,” she said with no small amount of salt in her tone.
“Come on, kiddo, let me speak with your Pa. Go play with the tools ‘er sumthin’,” Benton responded quickly after seeing something in his friend’s demeanor.
Scrunching her freckled little nose, Jenny grunted in imitation of how many of the crew often responded before meandering further into the engine room.
“What’s up, John?”
Jenny found where Benton had been working. A mess of wires stuck out from beneath a fuse box. Glancing back to where the men’s voices echoed from she crawled under neath the box, and groped blindly at the floor for a minute before her hand found a wrench.
“I was wondering if you’d take Jenny on.”
“Like fer the day?”
“Like as an apprentice. Fer however long that might be.”
Jenny wiped at her eyes to clear her vision as hot tears streamed from their corners. Never making a sound, she counted wires, wiped at her eyes again, then began going through the fuses on the panel above her.
“… You really think that is a good idea? I know it’s hard, John, but you’re the kid’s father. She needs you.”
“ I can’t – Ben, I can’t right now,” came John Brightmist’s pained, nearly inaudible reply.
“I’ll do it. She’s got a gift fer this stuff, but I think you’re makin’ a big mistake.”
“There’s just…. She’s a tough kid. It’s not like I’m leaving. We’re on the same ship. And… it’ll be good for her.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Damn, it was hot out. The heat of midday in Malgrave dried the young woman’s scorched race suit of river water, and reflected blindingly off of the sands. Glancing behind her Jenny could see the plume of smoke that rose over the ridge where her bike burned. It had gotten her so far.
Jenny’s whole body tensed as the distant sound of fighters reached her ears. Marauder fighters. Perhaps her bike hadn’t carried her far enough. Stumbling down to the bottom of the sand dune, Jenny dashed for the run down bar not twenty yards away framed by the half dozen ships parked behind it. Maybe there was a bike or a ship she could hop on – or steal. Anything to get her as far away from Blackstar as she could.
Ducking inside the rundown building, the sad excuse of air conditioning was a shock to her system. Several patrons looked up to her and stared, and she was suddenly aware of what a wreck she must have looked like. Sand in her pigtails, covered in sweat and soot, make up smeared, broken bike handles clutched in her hands, and her racing uniform torn from her desperate flight from the raceway, she was certainly a sight.
She moved to the bar, but every little sound made her tense, and at the sound of a passing ship overhead Jenny ignored the barkeep’s greeting to look to the door she’d just entered through as if she was ready to shoot the first person who came though it.
There was a shuffling of feet. Behind her the very subtle, but somehow attention-grabbing ‘thud’ of a glass being quietly set down on a wooden table sounded, and Jenny turned. She blinked, and stared. What was this?! A Jesse Payne movie? Alone at a table sat none other than Guy Fantastic, even more handsome in person than on the holovision, and he lifted his whiskey glass in a slight greeting to her as he nodded.
“There you are, Miss Brightmist. Sit with me.”
~ ~ ~ ~
“Do you think he’s still out there?”
Jenny blinked out of her thoughts – out of brown eyes that kept locking with her’s, and dark sin, the perfectly trimmed beard… Damn, that smirk. “Hmm? Naw, I think ‘e said ‘e was leavin’?” she replied with an apathetic shrug before taking note of Sasha’s disappointment. “Sumthin’ like tha’. I wasn’t really payin’ attention.”
Like hell she wasn’t. She had put on a perfect act of not caring about the Ranger Rafi had so eagerly introduced her to. She was done dating for a while anyways, wasn’t she? She’d had a bad run of dating terrible men. But then she thought about that ridiculously charming sm – No. No! It wasn’t charming! It was just a smirk!
Dammit, why was she hoping he was still there?
“I’m gonna head back to the Valley.”
Jenny frowned over at Sasha as she tied her swim top on. “Ya sure?”
“Yeah, you have fun.” Sasha gave Jenny a big hug, then scampered out of the dressing room.
Jenny watched her Aurin friend disappear, and her concern for the young female was, for once, more fleeting. She checked her pigtails in the mirror and the way her bikini line complimented the natural curves of her hips. Stop thinking about him, you idiot, you met him for five minutes, she scolded herself as she turned to saunter into the main bath where Rafi laughed with a Mordesh woman against a far wall.
Rafi had given the tall man her number. If he called, fine, but Jenny wasn’t about to get her hopes up. Not that he’d call… but if he did one date or a night of getting drunk and making questionable decisions wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?.
Jenny gave her bangs a toss and swiped playfully at the water to splash Rafi. No. She wouldn’t think about Jeremy at all.
Is there one event or happening your character would like to erase from their past? Why
The service hatch made a metallic thud that made the halls feel larger and more empty. Somewhere in the distant corners of the ship the screeches of Strain beasts echoed through the pipes. Jenny grit her teeth. Seth had betrayed her father, stole their ship, had his marauders kill the crew, ruined the once beautiful Empress, and now in his death defiled the vessel with Strain.
Jenny walked back into the corridor looking over the patched walls with a sorrowful frown. There was no saving the poor girl even if she’d wanted to. She lifted a hand to press against the wall. Her arms ached with pent up energy and, remembering the lessons from Elrabin, released the primal fire that crawled beneath her skin into the pipes and wires that led to the reactor.
Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Did she regret it? Dwelling on what could have been would change nothing. Jenny thought back as she listened to the distant scuttling of diseased creatures and the groaning of the ship as the generators began to overheat. She had been born on this ship. Had first seen Nexus from its windows, had spent the first years of her life learning and growing within its hull. Would she get rid of any of it if she could? Jenny regretted very little of what she’d done. Not even what she had endured the years her home was turned into her prison. No, she regretted what she hadn’t done.
Jenny’s gloved hand, encased with the data netting of the protective suit, fell to her side. She regretted not apologizing to her father before he had left to get on the transport. She regretted not having the presence of mind to suggest that Seth take his place. Then maybe her father would still be alive and none of this would have had happened.
A unearthly cry sounded to her left, and with a look void of emotion Jenny lifted a mag pistol to incinerate a smaller Strain creature as it lept at her. There was an explosion not far away, and she could feel the heat roll down the hall as her explosive charges in the cooling room blew.
She quickly strode back to the closet and ducked into the service hatch that would lead her out of the space ship. Two minutes and Lady’s explosives further in would go. It was over, and dwelling on what she might erase from her past would do no good. The Empress would be cleansed by fire, and Jenny would be free of it’s shadow to finally move forward.
Peter’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he glanced around the crowded dive to ensure no one had heard her. “Call me that again and I’ll wring your skinny little neck.”
Jenny gave a mirthless chuckle, and reached to snag one of the man’s fries. “Is that what ya tell yer mother when she asks ‘ow 'er li'le criminal’s doin’?”
The man snatched her wrist, but Jenny merely leaned in, narrowed eyes trained on him as she ate the stolen fry. “And what if I drug you back to the ship right now?”
Jenny gave a cocky wink in spite of the nauseating tug in her chest. She deftly twisted her hand free. “You won’. Ya 'member 'ow well tha’ went fer ya last time… Ahh! I know tha’ glare,” she chimed, plucking up another fry. “Answers one of mah questions! You don’ know where Blackstar’s parked the Empress, do ya?”
“One of your questions?” Peter asked, his jaw flexing as he glared down at the redheaded engineer. “Fine, I’ll bite. No, I don’t know where the ship’s parked, but it’s not your concern. What is your concern,” the man murmured, leaning into a little too close as he shot a dark glance down the bar filled with workers eating their midday meals, ignoring Jenny’s hand that played with his tie, “is that we’re watching you. We know where you go and when. We even know where some of your little friends wander. I wonder how much those mordesh would go for, or that little blonde aurin – What was her name?”
Jenny grit her teeth, shoulders tense as she leaned a little away from him, her glare burning into his shoulder. “I think ya underestimate ‘im. Ya always underestimated all o’ us.”
“Everyone has their price, princess. Fantastic might be untouchable, but he can only protect his little crew so much.” Peter sat back up, frowning in offense at the counter when he saw that his drink hadn’t been refilled. “I should get going. Always a pleasure, Jen.”
“Ya gonna see Seth?”
Peter paused, scowling. “Why do you want to know?”
Jenny’s lips curled in a wicked smirk as her hand slid up his tie. “Give ‘im a message fer me.”
“Drink for you, honey,” said the bartender as he appeared by them, setting a clean little napkin down with one hand and the drink with the other.
Peter shifted his glare to the bartender and opened his mouth to make an asinine comment, but there was no time for him to say it. Jenny’s hand gripped Peter’s tie, and with a swift, sharp yank she pulled the man’s face down to smash against the edge of the bar. He yelped in pain, backing into the patron behind him as he reeled blindly and grasped at his bleeding face.
“Shit! You bitch!” he shouted. Half rising to lunge for Jenny, a small wave of whiskey suddenly sloshed over Peter’s pants, followed by another to the face that redirected his ire to the bartender as the crowded joint fell silent. All eyes on them, several people gravitated to the scene, expecting the worst.
“Shit, honey, I’m sorry about that,” said the bartender, scooting the rescued napkin towards Jenny and pulling a towel from his apron to wipe up the spill on the counter. “I’ll get ya another.”
“What the HELL, Mike?!” Peter shouted, blood pouring from his nose, his shirt and pants soaked with alcohol.
The bartender, who clearly had issues with Peter as well, fixed the young man a withering look. “You’re bothering people and bleeding on my bar. Get out.”
Peter snarled, giving Mike and Jenny black looks. Still holding a hand to his bloodied face, he snatched his coat from the seat of his barstool, shoved roughly past the redhead, and stomped out.
There was a communal shuffling throughout the crowd as the threat of a full-on fight diminished. Some clearly disappointed, the workers slowly returned to their meals and conversations.
“Piece of trash,” Mike grumbled as he poured Jenny a fresh glass.
Sniffing, she turned to face the bar, shooting a diffusing, charming wink to the man on the other side of the empty stool who still stared. “Sorry fer the disturbance,” Jenny murmured with an apologetic smile at the bartender. “I can take off too.”
Mike chuckled at her, and set a fresh drink on her napkin. “Stay as long as you like, honey. Drinks on me. Get you something to eat?”
Jenny lifted her whiskey and offered the bartender a little toast. “Ya go’ them little fried pickle things?”
The bartender ushering the lurking aurin waitress to scamper back out to refill drinks, he reached to turn the music to something more lively and nodded. “Sure do. I’ll have them right out for you.”
As he stepped away to lean in the kitchen door, Jenny let out a long, heavy breath. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Setting her elbows on the bar she lifted her glass and drained half of it. Blue eyes turning distant for a moment her gaze finally drifted down to her napkin. She focused on it, frowning as she noted the pale markings showing through the fibers, then turned it over to read.
end of the bar
The young woman hesitated, then glanced up, her eyes following the bar around till they found the man sitting in the last bench. Jeremy. Her shoulders sank, but the smile that turned up her features was genuine, and she tipped her glass a little towards him. There was no getting out of this one.
Jeremy beamed back at Jenny, raising his glass in reply. With a dutiful scoot backwards he stood from the bench and weaved his way through the dispersing gawkers toward her. “Well well well,” he hummed at her with a smirk. “That was something. Ten out of ten, Jenny - that guy didn’t see that coming. Neither did I, come to think of it.”
Jenny returned a smirk in kind, gesturing to the now empty seat beside her. “One reason I don’t often wear necklaces,” she teased. Then, more seriously, “How much did ya hear?”
He tilted his head at the question, holding his smirk in place. “Enough that I have some questions for you,” he responded, blinking at her, and lifting a hand to place on her shoulder. His eyes scanned her up and down, brows raising slightly. “You alright, though?”
Jenny glanced to the front door of the establishment before smiling and putting a hand on his. “Hmmm, better now…. An’ after all that I s'pose I don’ got much of an excuse t’ not answer you,” she added with a good-natured smile.
“Suppose not,” he confirmed slyly as he turned and rested his elbows back upon the bartop. "Though first off - you need to tell me where you learned those moves from because… damn,“ his hands splay out a bit and he broke into a chuckle. "Seriously,” he leaned towards her, voice lowering, “that was just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen you do. I mean - almost. It’s up there.”
Jenny’s fleeting look of surprise turned into a mischievous grin, finding herself feeling suddenly pleased that he’d enjoyed the little show, and she leaned in as well. “Oh, that ol’ trick? Honestly? Saw someone fail ta pull it off in a movie years back an’ though’ I could do a 'ole lot better. Got a lot more tricks where tha’ came from.”
“Seems like that could come in handy,” he murmured, sliding his hand around her back and using their closeness as an excuse to kiss her cheek. He pulled back, looking at her, smirk fading subtly as he did. “So,” he made a small up-nod of his head towards the door. “Who was that guy to you? Pretty clear he was unhappy to see you well before you broke his face.”
_ _ _ _ _
Jenny strode out of the Nebula, fitting a sack of emergency rations (Marko’s leftovers from breakfast) into her canvas pack. She could hear the engine of the ship she’d called in for and glanced back to the other few who’d decided to come along on the little field trip.
Fishing her datachron out of her pocket, she double checked her messages.
heeeeey. So if I send you some coords how fast do you think you can make it out to Wilderrun?
How fast? Please. In spite of her rush and the weight of worry for the stranded trio, she couldn’t help but smirk. It’d been one trouble after another with small intermissions since the start. Since before the start. Jenny grinned and double checked their destination. For a minute – naw – more like a few seconds she was upset for not being taken along. But it was an impulsive, fleeting emotion that was easily discarded. She couldn’t blame him for asking her to stay. She’d have done the same, even if it was only supposed to be a quick there and back before poor Bron crashed his newly fixed ship.
Other people’s troubles are a good distraction from my own, he had told her. The afternoon at Cliff’s bar seemed to have been a forever ago. Where they had agreed to show their cards – well, the ones they were most willing to share. He had spied on Seth for her instead of leaving when things got bad. He’d come back after Malgrave and risked his life for them, gotten shot, and kept her awake in the dataspace when all she wanted to do was sleep and not wake up. Jenny sat herself in one of the two pilot’s seats, adjusted her pistols at her hips, and fastened her seatbelt with a resolved click. Now it was her turn.
Besides, if she was being honest, Jenny liked being the cavalry.
“He’s not there,” Rook’s voiced echoed out to Jenny. “I’m heading to the surface.”
Jenny strolled out of the greenhouse, crumpling up her gum wrapper and tossing it away with a flick of her thumb. Nodding into the darkness of the bunker, she watched as the pale blue glow Rook emitted moved swiftly to the bunker’s exit. It had been several hours since Jeremy had gone out for a smoke right before Kaamos’s surgery. Before Seeker had woken screaming…. Jeremy hated being stuck in a box under the ground. She couldn’t blame him and should not have been one bit surprised at him not being found. But to be gone so long….
Next came the living quarters. It was tempting to amuse herself by searching under couch cushions and in cupboards just to say that she had, but it had already been a long day, and her ability to make light of things was wearing precariously thin. She checked through all the rooms, then the bathroom, and was on her way back out when something on Rooks’ neatly made bed caught the corner of her eye. It was a single, neatly rolled cigarette.
She stared at it for several minutes, a strange, sick knot coiling in her gut. When she finally moved, it took more effort than she cared to admit to walk over to the bed. She picked the familiar object up, turned it over in her fingers, and with a conflicted frown that narrowed her already tired eyes, she tucked it behind one ear and headed out of the living quarters for the surface.
As Jenny crawled up out of the hatch the last echoes of an angered mordesh shout petered out over the sand, and it did not take much effort at all to find Rook. “Any luck?” she called out, dusting sand from her palms.
Rook viciously kicked a sandy stone with a growl, sending it skipping across the ground wildly before sinking into the sand with a soft thump. Colorful Mordescu curses rung in the air before she seemed able to collect herself. Turning to Jenny her shoulders sloped, frowning, and brows furrowed judging from how the glow from her facial apparatus and eyes were cast. “Not a trace…”
Jenny smoothly fixed an unreadable frown over her features as her blue eyes scoured the darkness in vain for… anything. Approaching Rook, she drew the cigarette out from behind her ear and offered it over. “This was settin’ on yer bed,” she said quietly.
Rook closed the distance between them. Spidery fingers plucked the rolled tobacco out of Jenny’s hand and a shuddered breath escaped her. “He left,” she realized out loud. “He left. Why would he leave?”
Jenny stared at the cigarette as if waiting for the paper to tell her something. Anything. Offering a lame shrug of her shoulders she shoved her free hand into her pockets to keep herself from fidgeting or lashing out…. Damn it all, it was too late for this. “Was hopin’ you’d know,” she offered quietly. “Any idea where ‘e’s gone?”
“I don’t have the faintest idea… I have no clue.” Rook shook her head. “I had no warning…”
Jenny licked her lips, and asked what she already knew the answer to.“… Do ya ever get a warnin’?”
“No. Never.”
Rook moved to set a hand on Jenny’s shoulder as she stood to her side. The height difference between them was staggering.“…I’m sorry, Jenny.”
She did not seem to register the hand on her shoulder for several seconds, but finally Jenny shrugged her free shoulder as if the apology was entirely unnecessary. “It’s fine,” she replied with a numb, half-hearted smirk. “He did wha’ ‘e though best fer ‘im…. An’ it’s one less potential casualty.” Jenny frowned at her words as soon as they left her lips. With the message that Dalaca was hunting them again in mind, the thought of Jeremy not being caught in it was the only twisted comfort she was afforded.
Suddenly Jenny was pulled into some sort of a side hug by the mordesh and a moment passed between them that did not need words. Had it not been for the unconscious Kaamos yards below them she had no doubt that the mordesh would have gone after him, and that she would have caught him.
“That doesn’t make it okay, even… even if he thought it was best.” Rook’s voice was level yet unnervingly acidic. “We’re in this together. We’re a family.”
Jenny smiled a little at hearing her own words, and after a few stubborn moments she leaned into the comfort of the mordesh’s side hug. “Will 'e come back?” She instantly regretted asking. It sounded so… silly. Faithless. Weak. It made her sick. Not that she wouldn’t be just fine with him not there, of course. She had originally encouraged him to stay behind, after all.
There was an eerily long pause, even for Rook. In the dark of the Malgrave night, Jenny could see the mordesh’s eyes rove from one dune to the next. Across tents and abandoned things, like they had the answer all along. They offered nothing short of their sad presence.
“…Usually,” Rook murmured at last. “Jeremy has… a way of things, I guess. But this time…” She pulled Jenny in for a light squeeze against her hip, and Jenny guessed at what she was unable to say.
Jenny nodded her head once in understanding, but she lifted an arm around Rooks’ waist to return a light squeeze of her own. The young woman then dropped her arm, her jaw setting firmly. “Guess we’ll see. Next time I’ll snag 'is lighter so 'e won’ be able t’ ge’ very far.” With a flat look to the empty expanse of Malgrave around them, she blew a bubble of gum and popped it loudly in defiance. “You should get some sleep, Rook. I’ll sit up with Kaamos.”
Rook sighed quietly and began to move back to the hatch of the bunker. “Don’t… Don’t stay up here too long, okay?” she asked quietly before disappearing.
Jenny listened to the receding sound of Rooks boots against the ladder rungs, thinking about the lone cigarette the mordesh took with her till the dry desert air was void of everything but the ripple of torn awnings being tugged by the wind and the hiss of blowing sand. She liked the trees of Celestion, so vibrant and full of life. She liked the mountains and loftite towers of Algoroc even more, their heights humbling, and something great to reach out and strive to take hold of. But here… it was empty. There was nothing familiar but what she wore, and the dreaded feeling of being abandoned gnawed at the edge of her mind as almost everyone in the galaxy she cared about hid in the near bunker from a threat that was promised to find them again.
Almost everyone.
Sniffing, Jenny spat away her gum and turned to head back, only to suddenly stop and look down at the ground and the small scattering of cigarette butts beneath her boots. Pink lips pursing into a thin line she set her jaw, and kicked a wave of sand over to conceal them. She didn’t need cigarettes.
It wasn’t the force of leaping out of the Void that knocked Jenny off of her feet, but the concussive explosion that ripped through the dry evergreens behind her. The girl clambered to her feet, brushing pine needles from her palms as she stared behind her in horror.
Mom.
The landing pad for the S.S. Empress was within sight at the base of the hill, but there was no Empress. Where was Dad? Where was anyone? Wheeling about, Jenny began back the way she came, heading for the not so distant column of black and orange smoke.
Her energy was quickly sapped from trying to port so quickly. Each time she seemed to cross less and less distance till Jenny gave up, and her thin tennis shoes pounded furiously at the dry earth in an effort to run faster. Where was mom? If she was in trouble she didn’t have her guns!
The ten year old made it over the next rise and half ran, half tumbled down the other side. She was close now. Jenny could feel the heat on her face from over a hundred yards away. She could hear the gunfire, and the hum of a ship engine, and another explosion made her lurch with fear and fall, the seat of her pants suddenly growing wet.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here. Where is mom?
Scrambling up, not noticing the stinging of her skinned palms, she slipped into the Void and made straight for a boulder near the edge of the trees that would hide her. The otherworldly plain was eerily silent, yet she got the feeling that there were eyes all around, watching. Finding the same boulder that existed on the other side it was the space in the clearing ahead where the house would have been that made her pause. There was always an effect, a shimmering spatter of golden lights that showed on the Void’s side when Slingers gated and used their learned powers, but where Jenny knew the house was, hovered a brilliant swirling cloud. She could feel the tug of Slinger she knew was her mother drawing energy from their realm and the sheer amount floored her. Was it even possible?
For a moment Jenny gripped the stone, afraid to return to her reality. Pressing her face to the granite she flickered and phased out. The roar of flames and gunfire made her feel sick, and she was glad for the rock to which she clung. Daring to open her eyes, she peered around the rock and instantly wished that she hadn’t. The orchard of small trees her father had planted months earlier, and house, and the small barn he had built were in flames. A small white and crimson transport ship sat on the road not far to her left, and a giant rodent tottered between the burning buildings to throw an explosive into the wood shed.
In the chaos she couldn’t quite grasp the reality of what was happening, and even less why. A pistol was suddenly in her hands, and Jenny looked from the bodies littering the yard to the man sitting at the ship’s outboard gun, wondering why a Dominion ship was there, and where her mother –
A loud blast sounded from within the burning building, and suddenly a giant metal being was thrown through the front wall of the house and into the yard. Jenny knew exactly what that was, and she hunkered down even lower as the mechari got to it’s feet. His left arm rose, prepared to fire his hand cannon from the heavily damaged limb, when Cora suddenly appeared above him. Dropping out of the air she landed on his shoulders in a flourish of long brown hair and golden light, shot a blast of fire against the back of the mechari’s armoured head, and disappeared before the creature could reach back for her.
Jenny’s heart leapt in her chest, and there was a bit of clarity in her mind that shouted out for the woman. You’re alive! I have your guns! I can help! But no words came from the girl’s mouth, and her feet remained rooted in place, watching with shock and fascination. Her mother was fast, faster than even when she was showing off for her daughter. Golden pistols of Void light filled Cora’s hands, and blue and gold sigils swirled about her arms and feet, but as Jenny strained to comprehend what was happening as her mother gated in and out at impossible angles to attack the mechari, the girl noticed that in the midst of all the light her mother’s hands looked wrong. They were smoldering.
The mechari had ceased moving. Narrow slits of its visor that served as eyes glowed red as it stood, waiting and calculating. Before Jenny could begin to wonder why it’s right arm snatched out right as Cora gated in, massive hand grasping the woman’s head. Jenny couldn’t quite process the sudden sharp motion of the mechari’s arm, or the way her mother’s body suddenly went limp at an unnatural angle in the construct’s grasp. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wanted to put sound to it, something to break the sudden stillness and the constant hum of the transport’s engine. But there was nothing.
A visceral fear gripped her, and even as Jenny flipped off the pistol’s safety and aimed it at the towering creatures she couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? Tears fogged her eyes as the glowing visor turned up to fix on the girl’s location, but her finger wouldn’t pull the trigger, and her body refused to respond as a searing pain of loss tore through her chest. She wanted to do something. She wanted to run for her mother, she wanted to flee, she wanted to kill, but primal fear, and sorrow, and the deafening inner cries at her cowardice saw her paralyzed.
The mechari took a step forward, then another, Cora’s lifeless body still dangling from it’s hand when warm, familiar arms suddenly wrapped around Jenny. Pulled close to a strong chest the gun was taken from her hand, and the construct hardly had time to lift it’s right arm before the yellow and white teleporter rings encircled her and whisked the girl and her savior away from the burning homestead and the planet.
Cora covered the receiver of her datachron, forcing a smile past grit teeth. “Yes, Jenny, sweetie. Can you get my belt from the bedroom for me? This is an important call.”
Jenny’s made a face at the outdated datachron before swiftly pivoting to scamper down the hall.
“Miss Clearwater…”
“It’s Mrs. Brightmist,” Cora countered curtly, an otherworldly gold glinting in one of her eyes as she looked down her nose to the stars burned into her hands.
“Mrs. Brightmist. The Director has called in your services.”
Cora stepped away from the dining table to the wide picture window to scan the yard and the thin little orchard beyond. “You people do not understand the word ‘retire’, do you?” she asked tersely.
“No one retires, Mrs. Brightmist.”
“Then consider this my formal resignation,” the woman spat in a clipped tone even as her stomach sank. Where was John?
There was silence on the other end for several moments. “We will keep in touch. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Brightmist,” said the cool, neutral voice on the other end of the call.
Cora hung up. Setting the old datachron aside she slowly pressed a hand to her mouth, her feet rooted in place. Shit. Shit. She wanted to blame herself. She wanted to blame the Exile Colonel who kept her in the field… a part of her wanted to blame John for not finding her sooner, but blame would do nobody any good now. This small planet on the edge of nowhere was supposed to have been their escape. A little slice of earth where John had built a little house and planted a little orchard. It was somewhere safe. But no one quit the Domionion, and the Director was the worst of them. There was no hiding from them, either. They were coming.
“... Mom?”
The woman snapped out of her thoughts and turned to see Jenny standing in the doorway. The young girl carefully cradled the gunbelt and rune covered pistols in her arms, and her blue eyes welled with concern. Kids were too smart for their own good.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you ready?”
Jenny made a little harumph. “What’s wrong? We don’ -- we don’ gotta practice if you don’ wanna.”
Smiling softly, Cora bridged the space between them, and knelt down, tucking a cascade of silken mahogany hair behind her ear. “We always practice, sweetie.”
“Because cultists are cheaters who will always lose,” Jenny parroted with a proud smile. She took her slinger lessons very seriously.
“That’s right, love,” said Cora with a soft chuckle. The reason for practice was apparently forgotten, but at least the punchline was remembered. Motioning for Jenny to turn around she pulled hair ties from around her wrist and began to comb the child’s fiery hair into two neat little pigtails. “When do we use the Void?”
“Only when we must.”
“Who do we use it for?”
“For those ‘o need ‘elp against evil men.”
“How do we use it?”
“Wisely, fearlessly, respectfully.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Mom?”
Corra took the gun belt and fit it around her daughter’s tiny waist as the girl turned to face her. It looked so big on her. So heavy. “What is it, sweetie?”
Jenny set her jaw in the same stubborn way her father did. “‘o… ‘o was on the chron?”
“Who…”
Jenny sighed and rolled her eyes. “Who.”
“Some old business partners,” replied Cora easily. “I have a little work to get done, but you go ahead.”
“Go without ya?”
Cora chuckled, the musical sound filling the room as she kissed her daughter’s forehead before rising to her feet. “I will catch up. Why don’t we meet up at the landing pad? You can even Gate. The whole way there, as many times as you can.”
It was the perfect diversion, and Jenny’s blue eyes grew wide as she grinned. “Ya mean it?! Wha ‘ do I ge’ if I beat yer record?”
“I’ll teach you how to Gate and Jump as fast as I do.”
“Ahhh! Yes! Yer the best!” Jenny cried in excitement, throwing her arms around her mother before sprinting for the door, the silver Spellslinger pistols at her hips bouncing comically in their holsters. “I’ll see ya there!”
Cora took up her datachron, and drifted down the hall after the girl. Her reality shifted and blurred for a moment as she watched her child gate away in bursts of gold to safety, and she wiped the gathering moisture from her eyes. Hitting the speed dial on her chron she lifted it to her ear and looked to the sky.
"Nnnnno!" Jenny chimed, frowning defiantly up at her father.
John Brightmist gave the five year old his most serious frown. "If ya don't, what'll keep your brains from fallin' out your ears?!"
"John!" sounded Cora from behind the man as she made her way out into the spaceport raceway. The woman was doing her best not to chuckle and smiled softly as the little red head cast her arms around her mother's legs. "That is not how you convince a child to wear their helmet!"
John gave an exasperated sigh and braced his hands on his knees as he rose to his feet. "Not as easy as it looks! You try an' get her to do it."
Cora smirked, one hand petting Jenny's head as she reached to accept the glittering red and blue child's helmet. Sitting down on the ground, the slender woman put the tiny helmet on her head.
Jenny giggled, climbing onto her mother's lap. "It's too small!"
"Too small?" Cora gasped, jutting out her lower lip in a pout. "Well, I can't ride bikes till I have my helmet on! How about this way.” She flipped the little helmet backwards, letting the straps flop comically down by her ears.
"Mooom!" Jenny exclaimed as she dissolved into a fit of laughter. "You look funny!"
Cora chuckled, but it quickly faded. "Well... I guess I can't race bikes then. And we can't ride the equivars --"
"Because Daddy says the other kids are pus --"
"Nuh-uh-uh!" Cora swiftly interjected, putting a finger to her daughter's lips. "We don't call people mean names." She did not need to give John a look to make the man wince. "I really wanted to race.... Do you think you can help me find a helmet?"
Jenny's bright blue eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. Scrambling to her feet, the little girl looked about wildly till her gaze alighted on the sleek black helmet that rested on the grinder a couple yards away. "I got one! I got one!" she exclaimed proudly, scampering as fast as her little legs could carry her. With a proud grin the child picked up the helmet and plopped it on her head.
"You look like a bobble-head!" Cora declared with a silvery laugh.
Jenny giggled and wiggled to make the adult helmet bobble around.
Still chuckling, Cora rose to her feet to look to the half dozen racers who had begun to congregate around the raceways starting line. "Still want to ride with mom, princess?"
"Yes! Yes! We can go fast!" the little girl proclaimed, helmet wobbling as she clapped in excitement.
Cora beamed and shot John a wink. Though he looked somewhat doubtful, the man gave his wife an enchanted smile and nodded. "Well, trade me helmets, kiddo, and you and I will beat everyone on the track."
Quick as wink Jenny was offering the black helmet in exchange for her colorful one. "We can beat them all?" she asked as her mother fastened on both their helmets.
"You bet your britches, cutie," said Cora, grinning before she took her seat on the grinder. John secured Jenny in front of her.
"Give 'em hell! You girls be safe, ya hear?"
Cora revved the engine, and Jenny shoved her visor up out of her eyes to grin at her father. "We got helmets!"
