Chapter 16
Hornet's Nest
Typically, when Davik sprang a change in plans on Carissa without her input, he would have to brace for getting smacked upside the head.
But her usual reticence was significantly curbed by his prefacing the proposal with the promise of enough palladium to free Marius, and an emphatic: “Hey, look, we got free guns!”
The supply crate that Theos' courier dropped off for them had more than just weapons, though. There was an assortment of supplements and medication for Fia, and parts to finish the diving bell. The weapons were a gift from Theos, specifically. Not officially sanctioned by TCIP. That didn’t make Davik feel much better having them on board, though.
His family might not work legal jobs, but violence was only ever a last resort.
And Davik was the only one out of the four of them — him, Marius, Drey, and Carissa — who hadn’t served in the forces.
Not that Drey was around much lately to even be considered in that metric.
Regardless, this was the norm for them, and it was a norm Davik was not comfortable with.
Even if he found the weapons mechanically fascinating.
Maybe our resident war criminal could show me how to work one of those weird whip-sword things?
As if summoned by his errant thoughts of seeing her in some skintight combat outfit, brandishing her vertiblade, he heard Fia’s voice echoing from the loading dock.
She was speaking Teelish, and for the umpteenth time he cursed himself for not learning more of it.
He was getting bits and pieces, but not a substantial amount.
If you want to woo her, you really should learn to speak her language.
A tingle crept up the back of his neck. Like a bolt of realization, prickly and unnerving. What exactly did he want?
He wanted normalcy. Stability. He wanted his family together. He wanted to not fear that one more slip-up would be the end for him. And he wanted to have that with her.
But this was her normal. Weapons and war.
Fia was talking on one of the other gifts from Theos, a handheld comms-link, as she walked into the cargo bay. Davik watched her eyes glinting in the lights and felt his own heart racing. Her smile was wide, her posture proud as she strode in.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she clicked her comms unit closed.
He must have let his worrying thoughts creep into his expression. He donned a grin and made a dismissive wave of the hand.
“Ah, fine, fine. Just fussing with this damn thing,” he muttered, tapping at a module for the diving bell he was soldering together. “You have a good chat?”
Fia nodded. “Theos, he is keeping me— What is the phrase? In the loop?” She made a circular gesture with her fingers and smiled. “Before he vanished, the operative was helping TCIP take out a mining satellite. Theos suggested starting my search there, to see where the trail leads.”
“Oh? What does TCIP have against a mining station? Not a fan of rocks?”
“They were a Federation supplier. One less line of support to Sol.”
“God, really? That’s it? I don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head.
“I’m not on the side of the Fed, but what is the line in the sand in all of this?
Is the goal to just keep taking potshots at each other until someone runs out of fighters?
Because, no offense, I think Sol has us beat in the numbers game. ”
The flare of her nostrils and the stiffness in her tendrils were not a human expression, but one readable enough that he knew he had struck a nerve.
“They keep my people in bondage, Davik. Icthians are forced to cut off a part of themselves just to be born here, to live in the settled systems.”
She stepped closer, both of her palms resting on the workbench beside him as she loomed over him. There was a low rumbling noise coming from her throat. Not a purr, but a snarl.
“Your people are trapped in this same cycle,” she said as she leaned closer, pressing her finger into his chest. “Perhaps you are accustomed to the yoke around your neck, but this is not an inevitability. It is a cruelty.”
“It’s just how the world is, Fi. There’s always people at the bottom. There’s always suffering. And constant fighting over it isn’t making things any better for the little guy. My family served in the Sol Forces. They’ve seen what war does. You know who ends up dying out on the Rim?”
She tensed, but she didn’t answer.
He gestured to himself, feeling his own indignation lighting his words.
“It’s us, Fi! You kick the hornet’s nest, and who gets stung?
Not the fucking Sol Emperor, not any corpo oligarchs, no generals, no golden elites.
It’s just people like us with no say in this! We are the ones who die out there!”
Fia stared at him, but he held firm. The heat in his chest matched the anger in his eyes. She waited a moment before furrowing her brow-ridge.
“What … is a hornet?”
Davik felt all the sharpness fade out of his face as he let out an incredulous laugh.
“Oh my god, Fi.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell with her own barely contained chuckle. “It’s a type of bug. It’s— Well, it’s also a type of soldier, but that’s beside the point.”
They both stayed there for a moment, trading attempts at stillness followed by uncontrollable bouts of laughter and grins so wide that both of their cheeks burned. Eventually, she relented, stepping back to sit atop one of the nearby stools, dabbing tears borne of mirth from her eyes.
“Alright, I concede. Now you must explain to me this soldier-bug, as I am now confused and my stomach hurts from laughing.”
“Okay, so. The Fed. They have shock troopers, right?”
She nodded, wincing slightly.
She has probably seen them. Fought them. God, maybe even taken some down.
“Well, there’s a subgroup of them. They’re hyper-specialists.
Usually women, aug’d out to high heaven.
Military augs are black, like Carissa has.
But the Hornets sport ones with an additional alloy in theirs.
Extra resilient, integrates really well.
And … uh,” he grimaced as he wound to the kicker.
“It’s toxic with prolonged exposure. And it’s yellow, so they have black and yellow striated augments. Hence, Hornet.”
Fia crossed her arms and shot him an incredulous look. “So people agree to live even shorter, even more violent lives to be part of these Hornets?”
“I mean, yeah. But they still live. From what I hear, they get compensated heavily for it. Hell, I think when we went to the bar, there were some ex-Hornets working as bouncers. Remember the two guards, the women who looked like they could kick through the bulkhead without breaking a sweat?”
Fia chuckled and nodded. “Yes, they looked formidable. I suppose I should consider them kindred spirits,” she said, her brow-ridge crinkling in a strange expression, almost a guilty one. “They agree to serve for a purpose they believe in. Even if that requires a heavy sacrifice.”
“Well, it’s not always that hefty a sacrifice,” Davik interjected, trying to raise the mood a touch.
“The ones we met? Probably veterans, or something. It’s not a death sentence to be a Hornet.
It’s just not healthy. Not that the average life expectancy out here is great to begin with.
My folks lived hale and hearty and barely made it to their sixties. ”
Fia drooped, her tendrils hanging limp around her face. “Only to their sixties? Davik, humans live—” she paused, looking at her own hands and counting. “At least twice that!”
“Yeah, maybe if you live planetside or have the funds to back a decent med package. But if you’re stuck skyward and broke? It’s just not the hand you get dealt.”
“How old are you, precisely?”
“Fia, it’s rude to ask a gentleman his age!” he protested, smiling. “Thirty. Why?”
She rose from her seat, cupping his face in her palms, surveying him intently as if he were going to turn to dust on the spot.
“That means you are halfway through your life?” Her voice was strained, her eyes fiery. “That is unacceptable.”
He did not breathe. He could not. Her lips were right there. So close he could feel the heat of her skin, so close he could see his own eyes reflected in hers.
“It is what it is,” he murmured.
You fucking coward.
Her hands fell away, and she retreated, her own voice a low whisper in kind.
“It is not the way it should be.”
He had spent every free moment he had working on the “diving bell” for Fia while Carissa kept them chugging along. They were keeping their travel patterns relatively normal. They were still taking on jobs, but only enough to keep the ship fueled and the kitchen stocked.
Thankfully, Fia had gotten comfortable enough with their usual work of loading, inventory sweeping, refueling, and occasional dock bribery that he could lean on her to pick up his slack. Though he wished he had the resolve to push to do more than just lean on her.
It had been the better part of a week since they had met Theos, but Davik finally had the “diving bell” ready for a trial run.
He was in the red on sleep, but the excitement had him nearly vibrating.
He built the tank onto a cargo pallet so he could move it up and out of the way if needed, and so he could hide it when they had routine inspections at ports.
Not that it was illegal to have a high-tech, single-occupancy, water-filled tube full of fiber optic wire.
But it was a line of questioning that seemed best avoided.
The tall plexiglass cylinder had a grate at the bottom that kept the circulation fans and other electronics tucked away so the “diver” within could safely stand upright.
Rows of thick cable entry points bored into the tank, splaying out into thin strands along the inside of the plexiglass in pathways like a spiderweb.