Chapter 2 Roxi #2
Crezlith’s green eyes find me like he really doesn’t know what I’m going to do to him.
I grab the cerebral probe mount and lift the ring of tines that will bite into the back of his head. “Like I said…”
“Do whatever you’re going to do. I’d rather die than tell you anything.”
It’s a familiar response.
I reach around the back of his seat and punch it into the back of his head. Crezlith seizes and lets out a strained grunt.
Fracture shifts but doesn’t say anything.
I put on a pair of gloves and look through the tray table for the probe I need. It’s in a locked drawer, but I know it is. I’m dragging out the procedure.
“Oh, darn. Let me find something to open this with.”
Fracture straightens. “I can help.”
I’m aware.
I don’t want him to.
Finding a large metal can filled with parts for the autoclave, I close the lid and slam it on the drawer lock.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Crezlith groans.
I’m getting there.
Bang. Bang.
“Fuck!”
One more for good measure.
Bang.
He strains to free his hands and winces.
Hurts. Doesn’t it?
I open the metal drawer slowly so it screeches. I want him to feel and hear and know every horrific thing they have put my people through—put me through.
The multi-prong connector glints with glorious revenge as I lift it and rotate the selector ring, which makes different needles extend and retract.
Crezlith eyes it with horror.
I reach around his seatback and prep it for insertion but hesitate when he makes a strangled noise. “Yes?”
“Rrrrr….fffuck...y…”
I jam the probe set inside.
Crezlith convulses and blacks out.
“Bummer,” I mutter, then find a needle with adrenaline in the top drawer.
“Do you want me to get Navi?” Fracture asks.
“No. We’re good.” I glance up at him and hope he can see the confidence on my face.
“Not your first rodeo…” Fracture’s eyes flash with communication from another Titan.
“Correct.”
I stab Crezlith in the heart and back up as his brain waves scribble across the screen. His eyes fly open as he sucks in a rattling breath.
“So…” I grab the ring on the probe and open the assessment program I need on the computer beside me. “You are going to tell me about every single person in CSP and every ship and leader in your empire as well as what’s on your data pack.”
“No.”
“Then I will make you.”
“They’ll come for you,” he utters.
“Let them. You have no idea how many thousands of your brethren I have killed, trying to even the score. I do not care about you. I feel no empathy for your condition or your struggle as Solcrue. You are your best advocate in this situation. Work with me or die. I’m happy to take what I need and let Evo have what’s left of you. ”
Crezlith hesitates.
Fracture chuckles once in surprise. “Damn, girl.”
“How many ships do you have in your empire?”
Crezlith grunts.
I turn the ring, probing the part of his brain that will contain the memories I want.
“Thirteen thousand sixty-one above a transport class,” he wheezes. “Fifty-seven motherships. One hundred and twelve thousand skysprinters.”
“Mating ships.”
“Two hundred and seventeen.”
I hum in thought.
Crezlith squirms. “Can we get on with this? Just kill me since that’s what you want to do, anyway.”
Fracture walks into the light of the bed so that the Solcrue can see him in all his shimmering glory. “Quit complaining. I was frozen in literal pieces for three years. Don’t be a little bitch. It’s barely been five minutes.”
I catch myself staring at Fracture and not focused on what I’m supposed to be doing. “Whoops. My bad.”
I’m stalling because the program I’ve started running has latched onto his memories and is pulling data from Crezlith without him even knowing.
“CSP, how many ships and soldiers are you working with?”
Crezlith curls a lip.
I rotate the dial to pinpoint the area of his brain that activated and tap into another bank of memories.
He arches on the chair. Well, he tries to. “Hard to say. Over a hundred vessels on record. Several have been destroyed. Many thousands are still aboard the CSP fleet.”
“Key personnel?"
He lists several names then stops. I watch the program fill in the rest.
I continue with the procedure, probing him for information. The last step isn’t one I have to do, but it will tell me if there is hope for his soul or if death is the only answer.
“Last question before I let Evo back in here to finish you off. Why are humans your enemy?”
Crezlith’s eyes water from the pain he’s in.
He looks up at the ceiling. I don’t probe him this time.
I wait because that’s what it takes. This one I can’t find with a needle.
His brain has to process the real possibility that this is the end.
As his heart rate increases and his breathing becomes shallower, I know he’s in increasingly more pain, only I’m not the one inflicting it.
“Because it is all we know.”
“Do you hate humans?” I ask.
He stutters. “Yyy…no.”
“Why not?”
“Because they are everything we are not.”
Fracture sighs like he didn’t expect Crezlith to turn.
“Did you claim Aera?” I ask.
Crezlith grimaces and writhes in his restraints. “Yes. But it means nothing because she does not want me back.”
“Why claim her?”
Crezlith’s bloodshot eyes drift to me. “What kind of question is that?”
“Just answer it.”
He looks at Fracture. “I…don’t…know. It was…not something I controlled.”
“Instinct,” Fracture offers.
“Instinct is forbidden in Solcruean culture,” I add.
Crezlith snarls and tugs at his restraints. His scales pulse in ripples as anger takes over. “They are suffocating us!”
His breaths heave and rumble. “Aera was right. We are dying. The empire lies to us!”
I disconnect the probe and the connector and let his head drip blood onto the floor. “Yes, they do. It won’t save you now, but at least you can die knowing the truth instead of being played for a fool.”
He moans and begins shivering.
I set the tools in the basket for the autoclave and stand. Tossing my gloves in the trash, I turn to him. “Why do you think your species does not allow instinct to override law?”
Crezlith is a limp, bloody mess on the chair. “I…don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I don’t know!”
Fracture grumbles, “Sad that he cannot see it.”
“See what?” Crezlith growls.
“They have trained you with beliefs so strong and final that you don’t question their orders, and you don’t want to.
But instinct is meant to keep species alive.
Trouble is, your instincts don’t see your kind as ideal.
They like humans. That suggests that humans are the stronger species, and your limbic system has sensed a stronger genetic profile in her. ” I cross my arms and look down at him.
Crezlith mutters, “No… To conform is to survive.”
“And yet you sacrifice yourselves in great numbers in every battle.” Fracture runs a hand down his jaw, smoothing flared fragments. “That does not show respect for life, except for those of elite classes who never enter battle.”
Crezlith looks away, dejection in his gaze. “Yeah…”
“Your kind should value each other more. Do you not want that for yourself?” I ask.
“Of course. It’s just not how things are,” Crezlith replies.
“It is for us because we choose that way no matter how much you torture us and tear our families apart,” I tell him. I have to break the conversation now, give him space to ruminate as the pain fades. So I leave the room.
Crezlith isn’t the first egg I’ve cracked. He’s proud, but he’s malleable because he broke Solcrue law, taking Aera and trying to claim her.
And now we wait.