Sunrider Veniczar: Chapter 4 Akane (Indefinite Hiatus Project) (Patreon)

Previously:

Prologue: "Arcadius"

Chapter 1 "Alice"

Chapter 2 "Gestalt"

Chapter 3 "Raid"

Obarin, Alice, Jemhyr, Thala, Serge, and about two dozen other Compact members from Obarin’s cell took refuge from Gestalt’s blazing sun behind the shaded side of a large, disused warehouse on the landing pad of Balzac’s spaceport among teetering stacks of crates and other containers of supplies ranging from rations, to starship fuel, to medicines. All told, the stockpile represented a paltry tenth of the goods they had liberated from the Imperial supply base and salvaged from the crashed Imperial cruisers, but Obarin had refused a single crate more.

“Nine out of ten fighters we had were from the local cell, nine out of ten crates belongs to Gestalt,” he’d insisted when dividing the spoils while his lieutenants groaned with good humor in the background.

Watching Obarin, Alice felt conflict swirl in her mind. His gesture and sense of equality was unquestionably honorable and well intentioned, but right away, Alice could tell that the fact his Compact fighters were scrappy underdogs to any local Imperial authority was entirely self-inflicted. It struck her as… inefficient. The supplies liberated on Gestalt, now being distributed into the local population and markets by the local Compact cell, could have easily turned the tide for whatever next engagement Obarin’s forces undertook. While Gestalt would not have benefitted in the same way, surely the good Obarin’s cell could do with the supplies far outweighed whatever the locals would put them to use doing?

Weak. Foolish. Short-Sighted.

A voice whispered in her ear from the back of her mind, whether it was referring to Obarin or Gestalt’s natives, Alice could only guess.

No.

Alice shook herself. She was new to Obarin’s Compact. Their way of doing things had come about for a reason and, maybe if she stayed and listened, she’d learn to see it with the same grudging respect and pride she saw in Obarin’s lieutenants’ eyes as they watched him hand over the lion’s share of the spoils to Hayder and his people.

“Hey,” Obarin flopped down next to Alice, lacing his hands behind his head and leaning back against a black weapons crate. “What’s with the long face? Sad to say goodbye to Gestalt?”

Alice snorted. “Hardly. I’m just…” she bit her lip, teetering on the edge of voicing her questions for a moment before changing her mind at the last moment. “…worried about the Imperials. What if they come back?”

Obarin shrugged. “They probably won’t.”

“How do you know?” pressed Alice, wondering whether Obarin’s attitude was more one of experienced confidence or over enthusiastic bravado.

“A couple of reasons,” started Obarin, ticking his fingers off one by one as he spoke. “This is still, strictly speaking, Alliance territory. Now that Hayder and his people have shown themselves capable of defending their own planet, the Alliance is more likely to consider the planet defensible and provide additional protection, if in political name only. Next, the weapons and supplies we liberated even the technological odds between the Compact here and any Imperial incursions; they’ll think twice before trying to land again. And last, with Liro’s death aboard the Imperial cruiser we shot down, the local Imperial magistrate will probably turn into a nest of infighting, intrigue, and backstabbing until a stable replacement emerges. Gestalt will be the least of the problems the new magistrate will want to address.”

“So that’s it? We hop from world to world assisting local rebels? Hard to imagine the New Empire will crumble from the independence of a few fringe worlds,” Alice tried not to sound accusatory.

Obarin only smiled. “When the New Empire had almost swallowed the entire galaxy, a single planet turned the tide of their expansion by drawing a line. The Imperial armada, unstoppable and monolithic, was defeated by sheer will and sacrifice alone. That world was Solaris. The Solar Alliance today is the result of a single world showing the rest of the galaxy that there was another way. If we do the same, the worlds of the Imperium will know that truth as well, that they have a right to choose their own paths for their own futures.”

Alice only sighed, simultaneously cheered and exasperated by Obarin’s contagious enthusiasm. The way he talked, the rag-tag band of rebels he commanded against the faceless Empire; it was like one of the pulp holo dramas she’d watched as a girl brought to life.

“There’s our ride,” Obarin squinted up at the brightness of the sky and pointed to a falling chip of darkness that grew with every passing second.

From the glaring light, a black deltoid shuttle descended, air braking like a leaf swirling down to the ground in graceful, curving arcs. Finally, practically on top of them, the shuttle’s belly jets fired, whipping up a squall of hot, dusty air as it made some final approach adjustments and came to a rest on the landing pad with the heavy clanging of its landing gear planting firmly on the planet’s surface.

The shuttle’s rear cargo compartment opened, deploying a ramp simultaneously. From inside, a lone woman walked down the ramp, dressed in a tapered black and grey suit vest with flaring lapels atop a clean white collared shirt and a simple, slim pair of black pants with matching black boots. She too had the light complexion, so characteristic of those who spent most of their time in space aboard starships, shielded from any solar UV, wavy ruby hair that poured down to her shoulders gracefully like wine up the side of a glass, and light emerald almond-shaped eyes.

“Ren!” Obarin waved at the new woman enthusiastically, practically running towards her and taking off his mask.

“Ob-” Ren seemed to catch herself. “Arcadius!” she snapped a crisp salute.

“Stop that!” Obarin caught Ren’s arm mid-way and forced it down as he grinned.

The two looked at each other for a moment before Obarin stepped in to hug and peck Ren on the cheek. At the same time, Ren made to give him a hug of her own, the two awkwardly bouncing off one another in surprise, followed by a few seconds of confusing and flustering maneuvering back and forth as neither was sure whether to continue, withdraw, or stay still.

Alice gawked, mouth open as she watched the two bumble with each other as though acting out a bizarre pantomiming act of some sort.

“They’re always like that,” grinned Thala, sidling up to Alice’s side and grabbing one end of a heavy crate, indicating she should take the other. “It’s so ridiculous it’s almost sweet.”

“I… they…” Alice was lost for words as she watched Ren and Obarin finally step back, red in the face, apparently giving up on the attempt. “Always?”

“Sure,” Thala winked at Alice. “Been together the longest haven’t they? Can’t even think of a time Obarin didn’t have the Akane and Ren at his side.”

Alice felt a sensation in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t quite place, more a squirm of visceral discomfort than anything. Shrugging the feeling away, Alice obliged Thala, helping her to wrestle with the large, heavy container as the rest of the Compact followed suit, beginning to transfer their spoils to the interior of the shuttle.

Alice and Thala continued to load the crates with the rest of the Compact members while Ren made a report to Obarin regarding the final Imperial cruiser, sunk in orbit with the Akane currently engaging in salvage operations on the said ship’s intact fuel bladders and munition stores. Whenever the two got close enough, she heard snatches of conversation, but it was impossible to tune in without actually seeming to eavesdrop.

“So… what’s Ren like?” asked Alice, sweating at the brow from the physical labor.

“Oh you know,” Thala jerked her head with good natured irritation. “She’s the XO of the Akane. Runs a solid ship as much as possible with Obarin around, handles most of the details and crew assignments. Thank the Infinite Emperor we have her; if Obarin ran the damn ship it would’ve fallen apart by now.”

“So she’s your commanding officer?”

“Ah,” Thala shook her head. “The Compact doesn’t really work like that, not us anyways. Sure, technically she’s got some kind of rank or another, but we’re all volunteers in Obarin’s cell. He likes to run things more like a family. He’s dad, she’s mom, even if she tries to act like everyone’s older sister, badly, mind you.”

Alice made a noncommittal sound in her throat, unsure how to feel about what Thala just told her.

“There’s only one thing you need to know about Ren,” continued Thala, snapping her fingers in front of Alice’s face to get her attention again. “Don’t eat anything she makes you.”

Alice laughed somewhat uncertainly.

“I mean it,” Thala’s voice was serious. “ANYTHING.”

******

“Alright boys and girls,” Ren’s voice came from the pilot’s compartment at the front of the shuttle addressing the rest of them in the cargo area. “Hang on, we’ll be taking off in a moment.”

“Aw, hurry it up Ren!” shouted Thala, wedged tightly between two stacks of crates that filled the shuttle’s hold. “We’re packed like sardines here!”

“You’re free to walk Thala,” retorted Ren as her channel switched off.

Moments later, the shuttle came to life, its engine vibrating through the entire tiny craft. With a shudder and roar, the ship lifted off the ground and began a fierce ascent to break Gestalt’s atmosphere.

“Omph!” Obarin wobbled off balance and crashed backwards behind his stack of crates, legs splayed in the air comically as he flailed and promptly tangled himself in some unused cargo-netting.

“Careful boss, you pull too hard and something’ll come down,” called out Serge, giving a hearty belly laugh. “Would hate to have to tell everyone the latest Arcadius died being squashed by a crate of Imperial rations.”

The rest of the Compact members laughed with the big man.

“Alright friends!” Thala climbed on top of a crate and held up a deck of holodra cards. “Time to lose your cut of platinum from the last mission. Who’s in!?”

A cheer went up among Obarin’s crew as they dragged crates into position to form a makeshift gaming table and chairs. In a matter of seconds, Thala was dealing the “cards,” flattened holographic projectors with strange, curling symbols and colors that Alice found utterly meaningless. With platinum clinking down in the wager pot and all players eying each other shiftily and yelling loudly with each play, the others seemed to have completely forgotten Obarin and left him to his plight.

Alice sighed, wondering how she drew the short straw as his babysitter for the ride up to the Akane. It was just as well, however; she’d never seen the game they were playing, nor did she have any interest in gambling. Getting up, she walked over to the crates he’d fallen behind to find Obarin having apparently given up on getting up, the cargo netting tied into a hopeless knot around his leg. Instead, he’d produced a slim, ox-blood leather bound book from his vest which he now wrote in, muttering to himself and crossing out a word or sentence periodically in frustration.

“Ob-” Alice started before he cut her off with a raised finger and shushing sound.

“I’ve got it!” Obarin exclaimed, scribbling down a final word before looking up, eyes shining.

“What?” Alice blinked, nonplussed.

“The trees were blowing

While I wait for blessed sleep

For all we can hold.”

Obarin recited, reading his newly finished poem with aplomb. “What do you think?” he looked up at Alice expectantly.

“I… don’t get it,” Alice said hesitantly.

Obarin seemed to wilt in front of her eyes and Alice felt a stab of guilt and regret as though she’d kicked a puppy trying to nuzzle her leg.

“No one ever does…” Obarin’s head drooped dejectedly before snapping up with a grin as he closed the book. “That must mean I’m avant-garde or something.”

Alice sighed merely shaking her head and kneeling by Obarin, trying to attack the knots in the netting he’d looped around himself.

Obarin caught her hands with his own, enveloping them warmly. “Alice, thank you.”

“E-EH!?” Alice squeaked, failing miserably at trying not to sound flustered by the sudden contact. “F-for what?”

“If we hadn’t run into you on Gestalt, if you hadn’t repaired our weapons, that battle may have gone a lot differently. Our family owes you quite a few lives, I’m sure.” Obarin’s voice was serious for once, his eyes flashing with protectiveness as he held Alice’s silver ones in their gaze.

Alice looked away. The way Obarin said “family” was the same way Thala had said it; with wholehearted faith in one another, bonds forged by blood and a shared vision. It frightened her on multiple levels, yet filled her with longing. The chance to belong again, the chance to mean something again… Alice thought back to the moment when he grasped her arm, accepting her into the Compact, feeling warmth well up in her chest.

“You’ve got it wrong,” Alice muttered. “The Compact saved me.”

Obarin nodded. “The Compact gives sanctuary to many of its members. You’re not the first who’s gotten a second chance by joining our ranks.” Sighing, he let go of her hands. “The Compact accepts members from any previous walk of life and gives you a new one from this moment forward. No matter who you were or what you did, we only judge you based on who you become and what you will do,” he recited again, as much to himself as Alice, lost in thought again.

“Isn’t that… naïve?” asked Alice. “Not that I can complain…”

“Yes,” Obarin said simply. “But raising revolution against the entirety of the New Empire was naïve, and yet, we’re still here. Against all odds, Humanity wants to believe. To believe that good will rise over evil, that the weak can triumph over the strong. It’s a belief that sustains us and binds us under the Crimson Banner. It’s this belief that drives the Compact to fight for and die for a future where all humans are treated equally. If there’s one thing I have faith in, it’s this belief that humanity cherishes.”

Alice said nothing as she continued to loosen his bonds. Everything Obarin said seemed to go against the natural order of the universe, but the fire in his eyes was enough to make her heart skip just a beat, a trickle of the same optimism flowing into her from his light.

“So what does this future look like?”

Obarin leaned back against the crate, his eyes and smile growing distant as he peered into the future he imagined. “It might not be that different from what it looks like today. Reminiscent, but vastly different at the same time.” Obarin cocked a head at Alice’s puzzled expression. “Does that surprise you? Did you expect a future where we tore the universe asunder and rebuilt it in our image?”

Alice felt some disquiet stir in her breast. Indeed she had. After all, was the Compact not a revolution? And what did revolutions seek if not complete overthrow of the system they struggled against? Yet again, Obarin defied expectations, somehow refusing to be defined by any preconceptions she had come to since meeting.

Seeming to take her silence as assent, Obarin gave her a serious look. “Destruction and immolation are not the only paths to change. In fact, conquering and subjecting the New Empire would only make us Imperialists and occupiers in our own right. The salvation of our people rests upon peace and reconciliation. We fight today so that we can lay down arms tomorrow. When the New Empire and the Emperor of New Eden realizes the plight of his people, rotting away the very fabric of the Empire he cherishes, he will change. No man would have the power to be unmoved by the suffering cries of trillions. We need only be heard, to breach the walls of silence and ignorance built up around New Eden rather than to tear the entire planet apart, brick by brick.”

“The future is Common Treatment for all the Empire’s citizens. Including those who occupy the upper echelons of power right now. They may be the ones who wrong us now, the ones who brutalize our people even as we speak, but when our Revolution rises, we will remember that we fought for Common Treatment, that the Imperials, once the Crimson Banner flies overhead, will simply be our fellows. We must, lest our efforts be doomed to the same corruption and hubris that brought the New Empire to its present state.”

“Arcadius,” Ren’s voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting his soliloquy. “We’re coming up on the Akane, prepare to dock in two minutes.

“So how do you intend to do that?” Alice straightened as Obarin finally pulled his leg free. “You never answered my question about what we were doing next. Off to help out with some other fringe world’s hopeless rebellion against the almighty Empire?”

Obarin snorted. “We need the voices and shouts of a hundred worlds, not the whispers from the very fringes of Imperial space. But like I said, to get that, we’ll need to show those worlds that there’s another way to live. We need to do something that will send reverberations crashing through every world in the Empire, shaking the foundation of the Emperor’s palace itself. We’ve been biding our time for a while now, laying low until the right moment, but I think we’re getting close to that moment now, which is why I’ve arranged for a rendezvous with Niels.”

“Niels?”

As though on cue, the cracked, dirty holoscreen affixed to the wall of the cargo bay as an ersatz window lit up with brilliant blue light, blotting out the Akane’s hull as another ship dropped out of warp.

As opposed to the Akane’s knife-like silhouette and sleek hull, the new ship was built heavily like an ox, thickly plated with armor and bristling with laser embankments and missile pods. Although she’d been heavily modified and painted black, her underlying pedigree as one of the Imperial battlecruisers the Akane had sunk was plain to see.

“The Blackhart,” Obarin said for Alice's benefit. She couldn't help but notice the corners of his mouth had tightened into an uncharacteristic frown. “Niels leads one of the other Compact leadership cells. It's been awhile since we last had a chance to meet.”

The gravitational distortions from the Blackhart's warp transition slammed into the tiny shuttle like a sudden squall of wind, momentarily rattling the craft with turbulence before the silky smoothness of space returned. Banking, the shuttle vectored towards the Akane, swinging obligingly along the Blackhart's prow to give Alice a better view of the ship. As they passed, she noticed another shuttle deploy from the Blackhart's small hangar, also making a beeline for the Akane.

Running lights activated along the Akane's lateral hull, guiding the two shuttles into neighboring berths.

With a thud and the sound of hissing atmosphere, the hangar bay doors sealed behind the shuttle. Additional thuds came from the hull of the ship as docking clamps descended from the ceiling, securing the ship.

“Alright boys and girls, feel free to move about the cabin,” announced Ren. “Arcadius, looks like Niels is in a hurry to talk.”

Looking across the hangar to the neighboring berth, Alice saw a stocky, heavyset man wearing crimson and black, military-esque garb. The man’s shoulders were rounded and slightly hunched, giving the rest of his powerfully built body the stature of a bulldog. Even his face seemed pugnacious, marred by a scar that ran down his left cheek with deep lines that suggested his face was perpetually scowling.

“Well,” Obarin clambered up to his feet with an unenthusiastic groan, clapping Alice on the shoulder and pressing his mask to his face. “Let’s get this over with. Come with me, I think I might need the moral support…”

Coming down the ramp of the shuttle, the hangar bay’s stench of oil and soot slammed into Alice like a wall. She couldn’t say she was exactly surprised, but her eyes raked over the stacks of old crates, empty barrels, and disassembled starship parts with a measure of exasperation. Like everything else that she’d seen of Obarin’s Compact so far, everything seemed jury-rigged, on its last legs, the victim of least a century or two of abuse and neglect, or some combination thereof. As Obarin and Alice picked their way across the messy hangar to the other berth, the others began tossing the cargo crates from the shuttle into an untidy pile beside it.

“Niels,” Obarin held out his arm. “Welcome aboard the Akane.”

Niels grasped Obarin’s forearm, the two men letting go of one another almost right away. “Arcadius.” Niels’s voice was low and gravely. “I’d say she’s seen better days. Except she hasn’t. Not this decade anyways.”

Arcadius’s mask obscured his features, but Alice thought she saw his back stiffen in response. His tone of voice certainly did. “We’ve just come back with a haul. Things are fine.”

“I’ve heard that before too.” Niels shook his head dismissively. “Skulking around the Empire’s skirts at the border, picking at its leftovers like some scavenger. I’m still waiting for the day you get wise; you should try it my way. The Blackhart’s never short on guns or supplies.”

“I’ve heard about your ways, especially those of late,” Obarin’s voice could have frozen helium. “Look me in the eye and tell me what you do is right.”

“What I do, I do for victory.” Niels glared unapologetically into Obarin’s mask, leaning forward aggressively. “You think your little adventures and joy rides will topple the Empire? The guns, missiles, and intelligence paid for by the platinum the Blackhart earns, not your idealism, gain us the traction we need. Case in point, this meeting.”

Alice hung back, unsure whether or not to insert herself between the two. Obarin and Niels looked like they were on the cusp of blows, but everyone else was studiously avoiding looking in their direction. Clearly, the two had a complicated working relationship, one the rest of Obarin's cell was all too aware of.

“You there.” Niels’s voice barked in Alice’s direction. “Stop hiding in the shadows, girl. Come out where I can see you properly and stand tall. You’re Compact now.”

Alice jumped. Niels’s voice resonated with authority and strength; a different sort than the casual confidence and natural charisma that Obarin wore, the sort that came with having led men and women through hell and back. Doing as she was bade, her eyes flickering nervously to Obarin for a moment before she accepted his grasp, clasping arms, her tiny hand barely able to even wrap around a third of Niels’s thick, muscled forearm as his grip almost completely enveloped her thin arm, rough, but warm against her cool skin.

Locking onto Niels’s almost pitch black irises, Alice could practically feel him measuring her worth as she was doing to him. Despite any misgivings about his character she might have picked up from Obarin, she could see the two shared the same hard glint of resolution behind their eyes, an iron will to protect those around them and to see the promise of the Crimson Banner fulfilled. There the similarities ended. While Obarin’s brown eyes shone with warmth and hidden laughter, Niels’s eyes were a cold void, ending in a black wall of absence that drew everything in, spitting out only hate and fury. Alice swallowed hard and pulled back slightly, it was a little too similar for comfort to the look she suspect she’d find looking in a mirror.

“Niels, this is Alice. Alice, Niels.” Obarin made the formal introduction. “Niels, we picked up Alice on Gestalt. She retrofitted nearly a hundred laser rifles in less than two days, from junk and spare parts no less. I’ve never seen anyone like her.”

Alice turned pink, but Niels nodded approvingly. “Better guns, more dead Imperials. At least one of you has her priorities right.”

“That’s not why-”

Niels let go of Alice’s arm, waving away her protest. “Did Arcadius give you his great speech on spreading rainbows and good tidings throughout the New Empire?” Niels spared Obarin a look of disdain before continuing, his rival’s face impassive behind the silver mask of Arcadius. “Dreaming of roses, peaches, and cream doesn’t fill a single hungry belly, doesn’t break the shackle from a single slave, doesn’t change a damn thing about the Empire or its ravages on our people. There’s only one way to ensure liberty for the oppressed, shared prosperity for the masses, and safety from those who would take it away; break the back of the Emperor and his Empire, shatter New Eden so that it will never again rise to trample our human rights beneath the boot of Imperialism.”

Alice said nothing even as Niels’s eyes bore hungrily into hers, seeming to look past anything physical, digging deeper into her, looking, searching, dredging something up from the depths. Alice felt discomfort welling up in her chest. What Niels said seemed to resonate with her on some fundamental, natural level, forcing her entire being into harmonics with the dark beat of his reasoning. Alice squashed the feeling as it rose, but Niels had already pulled away, his dark eyes flashing with a hint of triumph; she was sure he had seen it in her eyes too.

“Enough,” Obarin’s voice was edgy with a bite of impatience. “Debating philosophy and making speeches doesn’t overthrow the Empire either. Let’s get down to business before the Imperials show up to crash the party. You said you had intelligence, Niels”

Niels nodded, turning his gaze from Alice. “The Vae Victus.” Alice felt the atmosphere between the two thicken immediately with anticipation. “I’ve just received word she’s nearing completion. They’ll be unlocking her systems for a dry run in a matter of weeks.”

“And our people? How many do we have in place?” Obarin asked, pulse quickening.

“Not enough,” Niels sounded grim. “Even getting the word out was difficult. The Imperials have had the Alrami Shipyards locked down tight ever since they started to build her. Less than half of the agents we sent are still in position. The others…” Niels’s voice left little doubt as to what the Empire had done with those they suspected or had found out to be Compact sleeper agents. “…It’s no surprise. The Vae Victus is the first of her kind, a light assault carrier. They would have been fools not to keep the prototype close to the chest.”

A heavy silence settled over the two.

Obarin instinctively faced a tattered Crimson Banner hanging on the far wall of the shuttle berth. “We need the Vae Victus,” he said, coming to after a few moments. “There’s no way our fleet can meet the Imperials head on without changing the terms of engagement. We need Ryders. And for that, we need a carrier. With the Vae Victus, we’ll finally be able to send the kind of message we need to send, to give the people a symbol and a fleet to rally behind when we stand against the Empire’s fleets. Without it…” Obarin’s voice trailed off darkly. “Stealing a ship from the most tightly guarded Imperial shipyard in the galaxy… there’s only one woman for a job like that.

“…Kuushana.” Niels finished.

******

Alice lay on top of her cot, staring at the ceiling of her spartan quarters. The Akane had been converted and retrofitted over the years since its service days in the Imperial Fleet, but no matter how many changes had been made, she was still a military vessel at heart. Alice’s quarters were little more than a small private cubicle with a basic cot with worn bedding, some space for personal belongings (all empty as she had none), and a desk, little more than a metal shelf extending from the wall.

The room had a distinct feeling of having been mothballed and abandoned. Once, long ago, it had probably served as an Imperial marine or crewman’s quarters, but now, with its new Compact tenants, the Akane barely had enough crew to continue running at peak efficiency, let alone fill to maximum occupancy. Most of the crew preferred living in several distinct clusters of quarters, forming a sense of ersatz ship-community, but Alice had picked a cubicle off the beaten path, separated from all sides by at least two or three vacant cubicles. The silence was all enveloping, but Alice found a sense of shelter, rather than isolation in it.

She reached a hand upwards towards the ceiling, studying the harsh contrast between her pale skin and the dark grey of the Akane’s hull. It felt so surreal. One day an intellectual on the cusp of the greatest discovery of human history, the next, a mass murderer on the run. In the last week, she’d nearly died of thirst, been turned into worm food, joined a grassroots rebellion against an omnipotent galactic empire, been shot at from space and ground bunkers with lasers and missiles, and met two of the most wanted men in the galaxy.

Alice snorted. More had happened to her in the last week than in the last decade of her life; if that didn’t count as surreal, she didn’t know what would. If she stopped to think about it, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all a construct; some kind of fantasy being brought to life in the last moments before she passed on, and yet, the world resolutely persisted, dragging its feet from one second to the next, each one reminding her she was still alive, whether or not she wanted to be.

Knock Knock

“Come in,” Alice shrugged away those thoughts, picking her head up as Ren entered the cubicle, smiling broadly and carrying a plastic container that rattled slightly as she shifted it unevenly.

“Did you settle in alright? Do you need anything else? What’re you doing so far away from everyone else? I baked you some treats!” Words tumbled from Ren’s lips too fast for Alice to even keep up, let alone answer. “I’m kind of like everyone’s older sister on this ship, so I have to take care of you since you’re the newest, you know? Ahahaha!” Ren let out a laugh filled with nervous, manic energy.

Alice gawked. This was a totally different Ren than the one she’d met; the calm and composure she’d shown as she delivered a report to Obarin and brought them up from Gestalt to the Akane was completely gone, usurped by the rapid chatter and borderline manic gleam in her green eyes.

“R-Ren…?” Alice asked, taken aback and shrinking into her bed as Ren loomed, larger than life.

“Cookies! Try my cookies!” Ren shook the container under Alice’s nose.

“Don’t eat anything she makes you.” Thala’s voice echoed in her memory, pregnant with warning.

“Uhh… Ren,” Alice grabbed the container with steadying hands, talking slowly and calmly. “You’re scaring me.”

Ren stared at Alice for a moment, her emerald eyes bursting with energy as they looked into Alice’s colorless ones. The fire seemed to dim and Ren began to wilt in front of her by the second.

“I’m… terrible… at this,” the other woman sighed heavily, now reversing personalities completely and crumpling onto Alice’s cot.

“What!?” Alice felt completely off balance. “I… no, I mean… I was just-”

Ren threw aside the box of cookies, grabbing Alice at the shoulders and hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry… I just want to take care of the crew so badly!” Ren crushed Alice’s ribs in embrace before letting go. “It’s so hard to balance their needs! Last time we had a recruit, they said I was too formal, ended up leaving after a few weeks. The time before that, I was too boring. And the time before that…”

Ren continued to list every failure she’d ever had in establishing rapport with a Compact recruit for what seemed like the last five years, Alice unable to do anything except nod sympathetically and try not to be swept away by the other woman’s frenzied gabbling. Ren may have come in to play the role of the older sister, but it was Alice who was now listening to the former spill all her problems and stressors out with the patience of a therapist.

“Ren…” Alice cut off the flow of Ren’s flashbacks and patted her arm sympathetically. “You don’t have to try so hard.”

Ren opened and closed her mouth several times like a fish before snapping her mouth shut and nodding. “You’re right… thanks…” Taking a gulp of air and seeming to ground herself again, Ren smiled, this one genuinely warm. “Obarin just cares so much about everyone around him and he makes it seem so natural and easy. I just feel like I should be the same way too.”

“Heh,” Alice returned the smile, perhaps not reassured by, but certainly amused by Ren’s visit. “What’s the story between you two anyways?” she asked, realizing Thala had never expanded upon her statement that the two went back longer than anyone else in the cell.

“B-Between us!?” Ren gave a strange bark of laughter, her eyes turning wild again. “N-nothing! Why do you ask!?”

“Well Thala said-” Alice started, trying to explain herself before Ren took things the wrong way.

“UWAHAHA!” Ren jumped up, ruffling Alice’s hair and disorienting the smaller woman completely. “You mustn’t listen to idle gossip! Nope! I won’t have any of that on my ship!” Ren began gabbling rapidly again. “Ok, ok, that’s enough of a welcome for tonight. Eat up, eat up, let me know if there’s anything else you need!”

Without a backwards glance, Ren burst out of Alice’s cubicle, leaving the other woman staring at the open door with an expression of utter confusion and bemusement.