Archangel | Sci-fi Short Audiobook

If you enjoy today’s story, please consider  subscribing to the channel, where a new, original sci-fi audiobook is uploaded every  Thursday morning. Thank you for listening. Archangel By P.E. Rowe The crew of the Yankee-Chaos was expecting me  to return to the ship without Carolina. That had been the plan. But it seemed to be a bit of a  surprise when I returned without Transom as well, instead bringing this Reggie woman in  his place. She didn’t say all that much, but I quickly got the impressi

on that she  saw everything, though, and that right fast. “You’re Trasp, aren’t you?” Sōsh said to her  as I was making introductions in the atrium. Reggie acknowledged as much with  a nod but didn’t say anything. “Aw, hell, Burch. Here we go again.” “I know,” I said. “But, what would we be doing if we reported back to the Letters  anyway apart from giving important people rides through disputed territory?” “And where are we supposed to take this woman?” Ren asked. “I don’t know exactly,” I repl

ied. “She hasn’t told me yet. I said she’d  have to clear it with you all first. Reggie?” “I need passage to Raal. It’s mostly been  arranged, but when we heard from Maícon about Carolina coming here, Sparrow knew  he’d need another ship, and quite frankly, where we’d be going is better suited for a ship  and crew with a capability to fight our way out of a place like Raal, if the need arises.” “Well, if it’s only mostly been arranged, I’m going to assume we’ll be fighting  our way in and out,”

Leda said. Reggie looked Leda over for a beat and  said, “I think it’s unlikely. But I certainly wouldn’t advocate putting any of  you, or your ship, into a position it would be difficult for us to get ourselves out of.” “What’s this all about, Reggie?” I asked her. “Sparrow gave me the impression it was fairly  straightforward, but I’m wondering what business Sparrow and his group have with the Trasp.” “Our business is to end the war,” Reggie answered. “It has been our business for  decades. It

’s the only thing we do. It strikes me that all of you understand why.” “That’s half true,” Sōsh said, turning his head to show her the metal side of his  face. “What about specifics? How does our giving you a ride accomplish that?” “Part of the problem with this war is that the two sides have been fighting so long there’s  been no meaningful dialogue for decades. We’ve been playing the long game, recruiting low-level  officers as partners in conversation, if only to cultivate a willingness to h

old dialogue once  they rise far enough up the chain for it to be meaningful dialogue. We’ll be making contact with  an officer we’ve been grooming for a leadership role. He’s a very young colonel whose major  general has just been killed. Our network may be able to arrange his promotion to this crucial  vacancy, which would lead to considerable ability to influence the commodore of the western systems  of the Protectorate. We only ever talk in person, though, so there are no records of contact

with  us and our organization. No trail to follow.” “So the ‘mostly arranged’ part of this trip  has been with this colonel?” Sōsh asked. “That’s correct.” “How are we supposed to get close to him without being intercepted?” I asked her. Reggie paused before answering. Again her eyes settled on Leda for a moment  before turning back toward me. “Operationally, I’m not willing to reveal too  much on methods. They trust us with quite a lot on their end by opening the door a crack. We trust  by walk

ing through that door. You’re going to have to trust me that I’m telling you there’s little  danger for you behind that door, at least if we can help it. There’ll be risk, though. Always  is for a foreign ship in Protectorate space.” “Ship?” I called out, asking Rishi for  her thoughts if not her permission. “If you guys are good, I am,” Rishi said. “As  long as we have a quick out when we get there.” “That’s really your department, Rishi,” I  answered her. “I’ll leave it to your judgement.” I l

ooked around to see if I could gauge how  everyone felt about the matter. “Any objections?” They all looked reluctant, especially Juice  and Ren, but no one raised an objection. “You seem to put a lot of weight  in your ship’s AI, Captain Burch,” Reggie said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just Burch, please. And, yes, we got a good one in Rishi. Very clever  strategist, she is. We wouldn’t go into Trasp space without her say so first.” “Very well, then,” Reggie said. “We’re all grateful for your hel

p. It’s no small matter.” “No it is not,” I agreed. I think since we all got together, I couldn’t  remember the atmosphere aboard Yankee-Chaos ever seeming so intense, even with the list of  dangerous situations getting far longer than I’d ever intended when we started. It wasn’t just that  entering Trasp space was a treacherous proposition in itself. There was something deeper about  it. I suspect that of all the scars we carried, with the exception of Juice’s, all of them  had come at the hand

s of the Trasp. Sōsh and I both had a missing half took off of us.  Leda had been burnt half to hell before being pieced back together by her people on Tressia.  Ren had seen more battle scars than any of us, having spent nearly a decade piecing back together  the soldiers the Trasp had taken apart. And in spite of all that, everyone still seemed to make  Reggie feel welcome aboard the ship, even if she was a bit aloof. Not that the atmosphere was too  comfortable with one of her nationality aro

und, but no one was outwardly hostile or resentful  toward her as we approached the Protectorate, despite her origins. No doubt  there were suspicions, though. Reggie, for her part, was mostly quiet. I  pegged that as her personality more than any way she was trying to appear to us. She  had a calm way about her, good for diplomacy, I guessed, which was funny, because Trasp  weren’t much known as diplomats. Fact, I’d never even heard of a Trasp diplomat before. I saw her alone one night about ha

lfway through the transit, sitting at the table in the atrium  taking a meal. I figured I’d go join her and see if I might get her talking a little. True  to form, she offered up a muted smile but didn’t say anything as I approached the  table and strapped in across from her. “We haven’t talked about Raal  yet,” I said. “I’d like to know how you expect everything to go down.” “There’s not much to it, Burch,” she said. “My contact will be sending out a signal buoy with  instructions that’ll guide

the ship in. He’ll have arranged a gray zone on sensor arrays to  conceal your arrival, and knowing the topography, he’ll probably stash you in a crater or canyon in  the southern hemisphere where you can sit tight until it’s time for me to return to Exos.” “That simple?” She shrugged. “I’d offer to escort you, but I imagine those Trasp would spot  me out for a foreigner quick enough.” “If the accent didn’t give you away, your legs  sure would. You know, if we ever do succeed in getting this co

nflict settled, I can recommend  a few places in the Protectorate that specialize in prosthetics that would be a significant  upgrade—both for you and your friend. The prosthetic work our doctors do with nanomaterials  is far more sophisticated than in the Letters.” “I suppose they get a lot more practice at it.” “That’s a fact,” Reggie said. “And the mandate is to put as many injured soldiers back in  the field as possible, usually more capable than they were to begin with.” “Capable is one thi

ng,” I said. “Speaking of capable, Mr. Burch. I was hoping you  might lend me one of your people for the duration of my visit.” “Leda?” Reggie nodded. “It’s not my call,” I told her. “You’d need her permission, not mine. But one  thing I will insist on is complete transparency. You’d best be clear about the circumstances  on the ground when you present them to her.” “Of course.” “Then I have no objections.” “It’s a matter of making connections,”  Reggie said. “The more we can make, the better of

f we’ll all be. Nobody knows which  connection will be the one that ends the war, but one of them will, and she strikes  me as someone who can cross the lines.” I left Reggie to finish her dinner. I didn’t  much like the idea of Leda heading off into Trasp territory alone, or I guess with someone  we knew so little about, but if Leda thought the risk was worthwhile, I’d support her call  as always. By then, we were about twenty hours out from our Trasp rendezvous, just on our side of  the border

, such as it was, always a moving line. Leda came to talk to me about tagging along with  Reggie the following day. Apparently, Reggie had approached her before I had a chance to give her a  heads up about it. It had come out of the blue for Leda, and she didn’t really know what to say. At  the time, I was up in the flight deck discussing tactics and contingencies for getting out of  Trasp space with Rishi. I reckoned that if we were caught, they’d call us all spies and then, well,  from there o

n out nothing good would come of it. “Mind if I sit in, boss?” Leda said,  floating at the hatch to the flight deck. “Strap in,” I said. “I imagine you have a lot to  think about. Rishi might have some ideas as well.” “I’m just really interested in one thing. None of  us got to see what all was going on at Exos—those people. She seems nice Reggie. But this is a big  ask, and I’m not sure what she wants out of me. She said it would be good to have a fighter at her  side, that the Trasp respect th

at, but she could bring an arsenal and an entire company and still  be hopelessly outmanned and outgunned. Doesn’t make much sense, apart from the ceremonial, but  that doesn’t make much sense either, as near as I can figure it. This whole operation seems to be,  well, I guess, what? Subversion? Infiltration? So it’s espionage of a sort. Spies shouldn’t want to  be seen or have an entourage. I don’t know what she thinks I can do if things go wrong.” “She told me she wants to cultivate you, Leda.

Said you had a chance to  cross borders maybe. I don’t know.” “She said as much to me too, Burch, but I’m not  sure why she thinks I can talk to the Trasp. I don’t have any memories of even really seeing  them up close. All my combat memories from before are vague. I get flashes of dropping  in to lunar fields. It’s more of flying into places than fighting—the drone suit.” “I know. We’ve talked about this.” “You saw them on Exos, Burch—Reggie and  her people. What did you make of them?” “I wasn

’t there that long, Leda. But I  guess they didn’t look all that different from us. I mostly talked with Sparrow,  and he’s Carolina’s people, not Trasp.” “But there were a lot of them there?” “A fair amount. More Trasp in Sparrow’s camp than anyone else, I gathered.” “Do you trust him?” “Who, Sparrow?” Leda nodded. “I don’t know him. Even Carolina didn’t know  he existed till a few days ago, really. I trust Maícon wouldn’t have taken her there if he or  the group posed any danger to her. Beyond

that, they’re strangers as far as I’m concerned.” “Would you go with Reggie, Burch, knowing what you know?” “I don’t know, Leda. I suppose if it meant there might be a dialogue someday, some peace  to be brokered. I suppose that’s what all this running around with Carolina’s been about—getting  to the cause of the war so somebody can end it. It’s more meaningful work than transporting  dignitaries for the Letters, I guess. But Leda, if you have doubts, just tell her no. You’re under  no obligat

ion to anyone here. I certainly won’t think any less of you if you don’t. It’d give me  a whole lot less to worry about, that’s certain.” “I’m not sure I can look the other way if there’s  a chance Reggie’s right, Burch. I was just hoping she wasn’t a total blank slate to you.” I didn’t have much else to say, so it got quiet on the flight deck  for a moment before Rishi chimed in. “If you want to go, Leda, I have some  thoughts about how we can keep a line open to you—one direction at least.” “I

s that so, ship?” I asked. “That’s so, boss,” Rishi said. “There are a lot  of technical details, but we’ve got some options.” “My eyes?” Leda asked. “Maybe your ears too,” Rishi said. “We’ll see what Ren and I  can cook up. If you want to go, that is.” “I’ll let you know soon,” Leda said. “If anything goes wrong,” I told Leda, “You know we’d move Athos to get you back.” “I’d do no less for any of you guys.” I didn’t know the technical details of  how Leda’s eyes worked. Up until then, I didn’t

even think to ask really. I took it for  granted that when she wanted to get us a picture, she could fly out the back airlock, fix her  gaze on whatever she wanted to zoom in on, and if she was sharing it with Rishi,  we could all see what Leda was seeing—a sort of biological camera of sorts. Of  course, things are never as simple as that, especially reconstituted eyeballs of  the blended nano- and biotech variety. The way Rishi and Ren explained it to us when  they were prepping Leda is that th

e problem was range. If she got outside a hundred kilometers  or so, we wouldn’t be able to catch the signal. So Rishi had Juice rig up a pin repeater, and  as long as Leda was able to drop it outside the meeting place before going inside, we’d have her  feed. And the bonus, was that Ren and Rishi had cooked up a way to piggyback an audio signal on  that transmission. It wouldn’t be clear, and the whole transmission would lag by half a minute or  so, but as long as she got that repeater deployed

, we could more or less watch the Leda Show from  wherever we were hiding out on the planet. Juice and Ren cooked up a microscopic—almost  invisible—earpiece that Ren installed in Leda’s right ear canal. The Trasp would have to scan  her head to know it was there, and even then, a cursory scan would miss it. Reggie had made it  clear that the whole basis for these meetings was trust and good faith. She had a long relationship  with this young officer she’d been grooming. So went the story. Still

, Leda wanted that  lifeline as much as we wanted it for her. We all agreed that none of this was any of  Reggie’s business. If anything went wrong, we’d have a fix on Leda and we’d have operational  intelligence from the feed. She wouldn’t be able to hear us, but she’d have the knowledge  that we were watching and listening at all times—Rishi especially, which I suppose was  more or less what we were all used to anyway. When we came up on the coordinates Reggie gave us  in dead space, there was

a buoy waiting for us, so she said. At first, Rishi didn’t pick up  anything, but Reggie gave her a code to transmit to wake up the buoy, and sure enough, as soon as  Rishi transmitted it, the beacon sprang to life with directions and coordinates. There were very  specific travel instructions for Rishi to follow, multiple tiered jumps, followed by a rendezvous  in a deep canyon on the surface of Raal, a residential world before the war that had been  turned into a military supply depot accordin

g to Reggie. It was never a population hub to  begin with, but like many of the Trasp worlds, the youth all got shipped out in the early years  of the war, probably with the hope that it’d all be over soon enough that the kids would  come home and pick up on their colony where they’d left off. Most of that first generation  died in the war, and of the ones that didn’t, most of them never did come back to Raal. “I can’t say too much more about specifics to outsiders,” Reggie said. “But  you all k

now war. You can imagine.” “Yeah,” I told her. “We got a  few ghost worlds in the Letters.” I hadn’t meant for that comment to sting,  but it seemed to cut her deep. Perhaps a Trasp employed full-time trying to end  her people’s war understood better than the rest of her kind the damage the war had  inflicted on the societies around it. Anyway, we all had an image of the kind of planet we were  flying in to, because we’d all seen a few like it. When we crossed over to Trasp space, Rishi  switche

d off the transponder and took us as dark as a ship could go. It was a daylong trip from  the border to Raal, at the halfway point of which, Rishi switched on the transponder again using  the spoofed signal embedded in the message on the Trasp buoy. It was for a different class  ship—a little four-person short-range cruiser, but Reggie assured us nobody would see us from close  enough range that they could peg a discrepancy. As we got closer to Raal, I was shocked  by the state of the Protectora

te—or at least the space traffic anyway. They’d  always projected power at their perimeter, and maybe it was just that this was my  first time behind it, but that perimeter, in the minds of outsiders anyway, was always  presumed to have some heft behind it. Unless the Colonel had the sway to clear out an  entire sector so we could sneak in, that projection of power was looking almost entirely  like a façade. This empire was a soap bubble, with all its mass at the margins. I’d never had  a sense

like this before, that the war actually could end, that the Trasp could be defeated,  but just one look at that sector’s flight maps gave me the impression that one good pinprick  could bust the whole Trasp Protectorate apart. The planet, too, was a wide-open port. Who’s to  say it wouldn’t have sprung a massive response from the surface if we popped up under a  Letters banner out of nowhere uninvited, but again, it was shocking to have a lifetime’s  worth of misconceptions blown to bits in the

span of a few hours. The hard, unconquerable,  cerebral, tactically-minded Trasp had a soft, soft underbelly and perhaps only a handful  of people outside the Protectorate knew it. When Rishi set us down in the canyon,  there was a little puddle jumper of a shuttle waiting for Reggie there. No coms  were allowed. In fact, everything but the life support had to get shut down. We complied to  a degree, but of course Rishi would stay online, as well as our connection to Leda. There wasn’t much as f

ar as a sending off, as we all expected them back aboard shortly,  and to make anything more of it than any other mission would have seemed odd. They  just stepped out the back airlock and walked over to the Trasp shuttle—didn’t even  wear suits, just civilian-grade nanosheets; and given how closely Yankee-Chaos was tucked in  there to that shuttle, neither of them even wore a rebreather, just the air they carried with them. From that point, all there was for us to do was watch and listen to mak

e sure everything was  going smoothly. It was hard to make out through Leda’s scratchy feed what they said at the  airlock, but we could hear Reggie respond: “Snapdragon, here to see Hardhat.” “Pass code?” we could hear the response. “Cadence-one, Aurora-six,  Sahara-seventeen, Impulse.” The airlock opened, and Reggie  stepped in, followed by Leda. Once they were in the airlock, we could hear  the voice of the Trasp escort more clearly. “Who’s your new friend, Snapdragon?” he said. Reggie looked

back at Leda for a good beat, considering, then responded, “This  is Archangel. Can you outfit her?” “Yeah, I think we can manage.” Then he opened the airlock. When they stepped into the shuttle, I was a  little shocked to see how young this contact was. I was expecting to see some grizzled  old veteran, but from the looks of the boy, he was maybe all of twenty years old,  wearing a major’s uniform and insignia, and maybe it was my mind jumping right back  to the idea of the whole Trasp Protect

orate as a soap-bubble empire, and then it  occurred to me the young man could be older than I figured and I was just getting  old myself. Probably it was a little of both. The young major handed Reggie a stack  of clothes—a full colonel’s uniform, complete with colors and insignia. Then he  disappeared for a few minutes after promising to return with a full kit appropriate  for Leda—or Archangel as he called her. When he got back, Rishi played sensor so Leda  could get changed in private. It wa

s a few minutes later when the feed picked back up. It was just  Reggie and Leda there in that back airlock annex. “You wear that uniform well,”  Reggie said to Leda, who turned her head and spat on the floor of the airlock. “I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Reggie said. “I did,” Leda responded. Reggie didn’t seem offended. Instead, there was this weird skepticism on her face,  as though she knew something Leda didn’t. “All I meant,” Reggie said, “was that you’re  wearing the colors, bars, and ar

rows exactly as we would wear them. It’s different in the  Letters. Not everyone would get that right.” “It’s obvious how they should be worn,” Leda  said. “And let’s get one thing straight. I’m here to help you make peace between the  worlds. I’m not here to make friends. I wake up in a cold sweat almost every night of  my life because of the Trasp. I had my eyes burnt out and every part of my skin cooked to  a crisp by the Trasp. If I can stop the war and make it so nobody else has to go throu

gh what I  went through ever again, I’ll grit my teeth and pretend for long enough to get the job done, but  I will never forget who took everything from me.” “All of that is fair,” Reggie  said. “It takes courage to take a step like this. Tremendous courage.” When the major returned, they put their clothes in a bag and dumped it on the ground  outside the shuttle. Then they took off. We lost Leda’s feed then and wouldn’t pick it  up until she got the pin repeater deployed. By the time Leda’s fe

ed came back, we were all  nervous. None of us expected it to be out for nearly three hours. The flight itself shouldn’t  have taken more than an hour, and deploying the repeater, nearly invisible as it was, should have  been little trouble at all for Leda. Why it took so long for her to get it done was a mystery  for another day, though, because there were no clues on the feed once it started to come in. They were already in the colonel’s company by that point. The young major was with him,  an

d the first several minutes of the feed was so poor that Rishi couldn’t even interpret,  but as she started to dial it in, we would get bits of words that made sense from the context,  until finally, Rishi was able to discern enough to roll captions. The video was decent enough  to see. The discussion was about the business Sparrow’s network had come to talk to the colonel  about—trying to get the colonel that promotion. One thing that became clear about the way this  colonel operated, perhaps a

trait of the Trasp as well, but he was very transactional. He mentioned  past favors and future expectations. He made it clear that he promised nothing beyond a continued  channel with Sparrow’s network, even if Sparrow was able to secure the promotion for him. The  Protectorate came first. What was unclear to us, as spectators to this whole affair was how Sparrow  could garner that type of influence within the Protectorate. Money presumably, but that too  wasn’t entirely clear, given that Spar

row was supposedly cut off from the Dreeson family and  was a distant cousin at best. I suppose, though, even distant Dreesons still had access to their  share of resources, even the outcast ones maybe. That first discussion lasted the better  part of an hour. Formalities, questions, offers and counteroffers. The situation seemed  normal until the colonel set his sights on Leda. He pegged her for military from the jump, only  the wrong military. He thought she was Trasp. “You carry yourself like

a ranger, maybe  a steelhead, but you’ve seen real action,” he said to her. “How is it you were  discharged, Archangel? Or were you?” “You know better than to breach protocols,”  Reggie told him. “You issued the arrows yourself.” “Yes, I did,” the colonel replied. “And I  expect my junior officers and everyone else that sets eyes on her to respect them, which  they will. But if I want to ask a question, I’ll ask her a question. I expect it answered.” Leda turned to Reggie, who gestured toward t

he young major. He looked over at the Colonel. “Major, go get me a retinal scanner and Lucille, we will meet you on the south floor.” “Evening exercises, sir?” “Negative, major. Just a little exhibition before  dinner. Call in Lucille, and on second thought, send the scanner in with her. You’re dismissed  for the evening unless I call for you.” “Sir,” the major said, snapping off a salute  and retreating from the colonel’s office. “What is this about, colonel?” Reggie said. “I smell a deserter.

This woman is Trasp. She carries it in every fiber of her being.” Reggie put her hand up to calm Leda, who probably was fixing to spit on the floor again. “This is out of line, colonel. Part of our agreement is anonymity for all parties. We  don’t burn you down and you don’t burn us down.” “That was before you brought  a deserter onto my base.” “I’m no Trasp,” Leda said. “I’m  Tressian, and a veteran of the Letters.” “You’re no Tressian.” “What would you know of my people?” “I know a lot of your

people—the Trasp people.  You’re either from Kalergol or Rivera. You sound like maybe you’re from Carhall. I can’t quite  place you. It’s no matter. The retinal scan will.” All of us watching Leda’s feed together in the  atrium abord Yankee-Chaos looked over at Ren simultaneously, wondering the same thing. “Her eyes scan normal,” Ren said. “They’ll just come up with a big zero, because her new  retinas couldn’t possibly match her original eyes, and even if they did, there’s no way Leda  would b

e in a Trasp database anyway. Actually, if anything, it’ll put her in the clear.” It was a relief to hear it from the expert, but still, there was something about this  colonel’s curiosity about Leda that had us uneasy. I’d met people like that, especially military  people, who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not much was said, either aboard Yankee-Chaos  or halfway across the planet where the events we were watching were unfolding. The three of  them walked down to the south floor together, and

though we could tell from the way Leda  was scanning the rooms that she was nervous, looking back at Reggie’s face a lot, she  didn’t give anything away in front of the colonel. And Reggie didn’t say nothing either. The south floor the colonel referred to was an indoor training facility, a gymnasium of  sorts, Trasp style. It was dark in there compared to the colonel’s office, with  colorful backlights on all the walls. “Look familiar,” he said to Leda. “Should it?” Leda answered. He scoffed at

her dismissive response and  waited for a few moments before the far door opened. In came a young Trasp woman dressed in a  training gi, carrying a staff in her left hand. “This is Lucille,” the colonel said. “She’s a  junior lieutenant and the best female fighter on our base. You’re going to fight her.” Leda started laughing. “Lucille, come over here and meet Archangel.  First, we’re going to find out who she is, then you’re going to spar.” “You better not put a staff in my hand,” Leda said to

the colonel. “When I knock  her out, I’m coming after you next, Hardhat.” Sōsh was shaking his head beside me as the  scene unfolded. “Poor kid,” he said. “Hope they got a doctor good as Ren on that base.” We all chuckled except for Harold, who looked over at us humans and said, “Leda will go easy on her.  It’s not in her nature to be needlessly hurtful.” The key word there was needlessly, and  the rest of us humans might have thought there was a need. Anyway, we kept watching. “Lucille, you we

re told to bring a retinal scanner down,” the colonel said. “Do you consent  to my scanning you, Archangel, or do I need to get some people in here to make it happen?” “Have at it,” Leda said. Lucille tossed the pen-like implement over to  the colonel, who approached Leda. A bright light lit up our floatscreen as he scanned Leda’s  eyes. There was no response from the colonel, who seemed to be looking over his  shoulder, waiting for something. “Praetor?” he shouted,  apparently to the base’s AI.

“Negative confirmation on identity,”  a voice echoed through the room. “As I said,” Leda stated, staring  over at the colonel. “I’m not Trasp.” “Please, indulge me still,” he said,  gesturing toward the lieutenant. “Lucille, attack her please, hand-to-hand.” Lucille dropped the staff. Leda stepped away from Reggie the second the girl moved toward  her. The young lieutenant’s arms were up in a fighters pose as she approached, far too fast. We  could see a strike that Leda blocked and a knee to t

he girl’s upper leg as Leda stepped behind her,  uplifting the girl between the legs in the same motion. Then Leda fully body slammed Lucille  to the mat so hard it sounded like the impact squeezed a death rattle out of her. Leda stopped.  Poor Lucille was flat on her back, shocked and wide-eyed with her arms and legs slowly reaching  out aimlessly at the air as she gasped for breath. Leda stared over at the colonel.  “Care to step in here, boss?” He crossed his arms. When Leda looked down again

at Lucille, it looked like the girl had caught her breath a little.  Leda offered her a hand, and Lucille reached up, still wide-eyed, breathing hard, but breathing.  We spectators were laughing and shaking our heads. Leda was a proper ass-kicker at baseline,  and she had plenty of bio-enhancements to boot. “Staffs,” the colonel said, taking off his outer  jacket. “You know how to use one I imagine?” “You won’t have to imagine long,” Leda said,  stepping over to the weapons rack and pulling dow

n a black polymer staff, casually  spinning it like a fifth-appendage, testing the weight of it, or so it seemed. “I was a division champion,” the colonel said. “You should put on a helmet,  Hardhat,” Leda said. “I can’t promise I won’t slip and crack your skull.” “I will if you do,” he replied. “A proper match?” Leda shrugged it seemed to us. Then she walked  down to the end of the weapons rack and picked out a helmet. They padded up and then added  padded sheaths to the end of their staffs. Th

e colonel put in a mouthguard, giving  Leda a look like she might want the same. “You’re not going to hit me,” she  said. “Not in the mouth anyway.” “Have it your way,” he mumbled  through the mouthguard. Then they stepped onto the mat. We’d seen Leda  train freehand, especially on our free days back on Keneise, while Transom was getting  back on his feet. She’d go off on the beach and run through her movements—modes, she called  them, a Tressian way of prayer, she’d explained. None of us had se

en her properly fight with a  weapon. I don’t think even Sōsh would’ve wanted any part of that. I know I wouldn’t. The colonel came at her. He was good, we could tell that much from the fact he wasn’t  cracked out cold in the first few seconds. “I kinda wish we could pan around and  watch her,” Juice said, “instead of just seeing her perspective.” “All the same,” Ren said. “I’d rather have our perspective than his.” It was almost simultaneous to Ren saying it, the colonel’s lead leg, overextende

d by a touch,  made a rich enough target that Leda in a sweeping strike while stepping to the side, cracked the  colonel in the Achilles, toppling him to the mat, where he tried to roll forward as though to keep  fighting before the shock of the blow set in. Instantly, instinctively, as soon as the pain hit,  he dropped his staff and reached for his foot, curling up into a ball. He didn’t cry out  like poor Lucille had, but he was finished. Leda just stood there. It was almost more  of an insult

that she didn’t strike him with a few more performative blows to force him to  tap out, instead calling the match on her own. “I thought you said we’d be making  friends here, Snapdragon,” Leda said, looking over at Reggie. “Is this how Trasp  make friends? It’s a funny way of doing it.” She turned back to the colonel, who’d rolled to  his hands and knees by that point. Leda tossed her staff and helped him to his feet, offering  a shoulder as he tried a step or two to shake it off. He limped gi

ngerly forward before  brushing her aside and taking a few steps. “You’re quite a fighter,” Lucille  said. “Where’d you learn all that?” “From the holy warriors at the Tressian vassurs,”  Leda said. “I trained there and served with them in the Letters before I was wounded in battle.” “Against us?” Lucille said. Leda nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” Reggie looked over at Leda, tilting her  head as if to say that was some progress. “A Tressian holy warrior,” the colonel  said. “First and

last one I’ll stand toe-to-toe with. I’m grateful you  didn’t see fit to test the helmet.” “You didn’t stick your head out,” Leda said. “All the same,” the colonel said. “I’d like to host the two of you in the  officer’s mess for a proper meal.” Lucille escorted Leda and Reggie to a large room  that seemed to be a guest quarters. There were two beds, which was a sign that this colonel was  expecting this stay to go a bit longer than we had all bargained for. Given the circumstances,  though, the

re wasn’t much any of us could do but let it play out and hope for the best. After Lucille left them, Reggie turned to Leda and said, “Watch what you say, because we  are almost certainly being recorded in here.” “That’s a fact,” Leda responded,  eliciting a dull laugh from all of us. “You shouldn’t have hit him so hard,” Reggie  said. “I had no idea what you were capable of, but I figured you for smarter  than that at the very least.” “It was a love tap. I could’ve snapped  the tendon if I want

ed to hurt him.” “That love tap might have cost  us. Humbling a rising officer like that in front of one of his  juniors. He’s not going to forget it. And it certainly won’t make  him any less curious about you.” “I don’t know what you want from me,  lady. I come. I get insulted by you, by him, then thrown on the mat with a  kid, for what? What was that even about?” “I have no idea. I suppose he wanted to see  if you were trained like a Trasp warrior.” “Well, he got his answer, didn’t he?” “Let’

s hope,” Reggie said. “Trasp warriors are garbage fighters. Cannon  fodder. Are you listening, Hardhat, or whatever your stupid codename is? Garbage. Fighters.” Reggie gritted her teeth. “Be silent.” She took a deep breath. “We are guests here. We are here to cross lines. To broker discussion.” “And I will discuss when the time comes,” Leda said. “I will not be insulted.” “A Tressian holy warrior. I never would have guessed it. I presume that  means you know how to meditate.” Leda shook her head

at the suggestion. “Visualize a pleasant evening, peaceful conversation, holding your tongue  and committing no acts of violence against the officer we’ve come here to befriend.” Leda didn’t exactly scoff at the suggestion, but it was easy enough for us to figure  what she thought of that. She did meditate, though. And it was another two hours or so  before anything substantive happened again. We took advantage of the lull to eat dinner  and nearly broke out the Sabaca sticks it was going so sl

ow there. I got the sense among the  crew of a mild optimism, that the rest of this meeting would go off without a hitch. Then the colonel’s dinner happened. At first, he and Reggie spent the bulk of the time  discussing the specifics of their accord—the ways a relationship could manifest certain outcomes if  need be. Reggie asked about the commodore and how much influence young Hardhat could have opening  up outside diplomatic channels, whether that be with Sparrow’s network or a third-party  m

ediator. A lot of groundwork, it seemed. They ate. They talked. And for the most part,  the colonel seemed to be ignoring Leda until the meal finished. When the all-purpose  bots exited after clearing the table, two pair of Trasp strike bots entered, taking  up a position several meters behind the colonel. “I have more questions,” he  said, “about her—Archangel.” “You weren’t satisfied enough  this afternoon?” Leda said. “I had suspicions that you were a deserter.  I have other suspicions now, b

ut I know for certain you’re not a Trasp deserter.” “I told you I wasn’t Trasp.” “Yes, we’ll get to that. I had Praetor run a  comprehensive movement analysis on your fighting style, and the results were interesting—so  interesting that I sent the major back to the south floor to retrieve your staff, Archangel, so  he could run a DNA test on the staff, and well, if your fighting style was interesting, this?  This was something else entirely. You have no idea who you are, do you?” “I know exactly

who I am.” “Your retinas didn’t turn up anything because  your eyes have been rebuilt. Am I wrong?” Leda didn’t respond. “Those aren’t your real eyes, are they?” Leda didn’t answer. She looked over at  Reggie, seemingly to see if the older woman had any intention of intervening. It  was clear from the look on Reggie’s face that the situation was out of her control. “Do you have memories before Kendry?” “Excuse me?” “It was the city of Maddutz on Kendry where they found you, no?  I’m guessing pr

obably in a basement or some ground-level concrete structure buried under a  mountain of rubble, half-dead. Is that right?” We could tell from the picture that Leda  sat up straight in her seat. His description sounded exactly like what Leda had told us. “What do you think your name is? That is, what name are you using, Archangel, not on this  silly misadventure of a mission this silly woman has dragged you on. I mean with your crew out  on that spaceship you parked in Ragged Canyon. What do the

y call you?” “Burch?” Ren said. I put up my hand to quiet her. Leda was quiet too. “Boss?” Rishi said. “Don’t spin up, ship,” I told her. “If you do it now, he’ll know we’re on to him. And we’re on a  delay here. If this colonel were going to kill us, we’d be dead already. Just keep a weather eye.” I kept watching Leda, who was looking around the room, seemingly extremely  uncomfortable in her chair. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re not in any trouble.  I told you. We know you’re not a deserter.” “

My name is Leda. That is  my name. That’s who I am.” “And you have no memories before Kendry? None?” “Fragments.” “You don’t know your full name, Leda, do you?” Leda shook her head. “Would you like to? You have family, you  know? Do you remember? You have a brother.” Leda began shaking her head. “It’s a lot,” the colonel said. “I know this is probably a shock. When  I found out who you really were, Leda, I couldn’t imagine what you’d been through.  I couldn’t believe it was you, actually. What t

hose doctors must have done to save you on  Tressia. Frankly, it was quite a shock to me.” “I am not—” Leda didn’t finish  the statement. “I am not.” “I’ll give you a minute to let it sink in, Leda.  You were recorded killed in action on Kendry, listed among the honored dead  of the Trasp Protectorate.” Leda kept shaking her head. “Now, as for your friend, codename Snapdragon, we had an understanding. It had something to do  with coming alone. We agree to look the other way on a number of things

; you don’t share information  on the Protectorate with Trasp’s enemies. But when all these funny things started happening with  our dead war hero friend here, Snapdragon, we had a satellite scan the canyon. It turns  out, Regina Hoss Boggs, that you brought a few friends with you on a joyride into our space?  If this whole network you were cultivating with Athos’s first family wasn’t treasonous,  escorting spies across our border certainly is. Backdoor diplomacy is one thing. Espionage,  though

? The letter of the law is clear there.” “You’re just as guilty as she is,” Leda said. “That’s true in a sense,” the colonel said, “but there is exactly zero evidence of  anything because we only talk in person. But, if I were to turn that ship out there  into a flaming pile of metal, along with, I’m guessing…Leda’s new friends from the Letters?  Right? Then there’d be proof of something.” Leda’s eyes went right to the strikebots. “I thought you might be confused about loyalties for a while,” he

said. “So  I wanted to make sure there wasn’t any question about doing anything…well, questionable.” “I’ll kill you if you hurt them,” Leda said as cold as she’d ever said anything, “and after I’m  done with you, I’ll find your family and kill them for good measure. An eye for an eye.” “You misunderstand me, Leda.” He paused. “Leda. Le-da. It actually suits you quite well.” “It should. It’s my name.” “What do you want, colonel?” Reggie asked. “I don’t want to blow up your friends, Leda. This vi

sit was supposed to be a visit to  build bridges, and I still think it can be. What do you think, Snapdragon?” “I am always hopeful.” “What I want is her. I want Leda. And then I want  you to go back to your ship, to fly back to the Letters and tell Sparrow that if he ensures my  promotion, I will keep an open dialogue with him. I may even attempt to sway policy for him  when it redounds to the Protectorate’s benefit as well. When our interests align, we can be  friends. But…she stays. That’s th

e price.” Reggie looked at Leda. “Bear in mind, Leda,” the colonel said. “The alternative is that I  rain fire on that canyon where your friends are. I only need to say the word.” “I’ll stay,” Leda said. “I’ll stay.” “I thought you’d see reason.” Reggie was shaking her head. “I’ll never convince them to leave without her.” “You’re just going to have to be persuasive, Snapdragon,” the colonel said, “because if that  ship deviates from the flight plan by a meter, I will open up on it, and Sparrow

will never hear  from any of us again. Do I make myself clear?” Leda looked over at Reggie. The  older woman was shaking her head. “You knew, didn’t you?” Leda  said. “You knew what I was?” Reggie shook her head. “I didn’t know he’d  check your DNA, love, but I knew you for one of us the second I set eyes on you. You’re  Trasp, Leda. You carry it in your bones.” At those words, things got a  little heated back on the ship. Sōsh lashed out, and the others tried to  quiet him. As confused and angr

y as I was, there was stuff going on we still  needed to hear from that dinner table. “You mean we’ve been flying with a damn  Trasp all this time!” Sōsh shouted. “She didn’t know,” Ren said. “Hey!” I shouted over them. “You were flying with Leda. Leda. And she’s still  in there. We need to be smart about this, because if we’re still here, that means  Reggie is on her way back here right now.” “I’m going to crush that lying  Trasp woman’s neck!” Sōsh said. “The second she steps in this ship.” “I

f we ever want to see Leda again, Sōsh, we’re going to need help from  some genuine Trasp operators,” I told him. “How many of them do you know?” “Burch, we’re not going to leave her?” Ren said. “We can’t just leave her with  him? What’s he going to do with her?” “I don’t know, Ren.” “Let them have her!” Sōsh said. “You don’t mean that,” I told him.  “You’re angry. I get it. I’m angry. We need to figure this out fast, though.” Sōsh got up from the table, clenching both his fists, the flesh and t

he metal. He turned his  back to us. I understood. My emotion was more of disbelief than anger, though. Her being Trasp  didn’t change my opinion of the woman I knew any, but I don’t reckon I’d suffered as much as  Sōsh. And Leda, I don’t think there’d been an ounce of deception in it. The memories she’d  shared with us, the false ones, I think she genuinely believed them, so we trusted in who  she’d said she was. And there was no question in my mind that Leda, our Leda, was suffering  the same

anger and confusion and pain that Sōsh was about her identity at that same moment. I  also knew I wanted her back. She was family. “Burch?” Ren said. “Ship, keep recording that feed until the last second we’re in range,” I told Rishi. “For  now, we need to get our heads right about this.” “We’re not leaving?” Ren said. “We can’t stay, Ren. We are so far outgunned we’d be dead before we got close,  all of us. We still have two advantages, though, as I see it. Leda is still transmitting,  and they

don’t know about it, for one. Two, Reggie has no idea we’ve been watching.” “How is that an advantage, Burch?” Sōsh said. “I don’t know yet. But we can at least string  her along and see how she tries to spin it. As long as Leda’s transmitting,  though, we can find that signal.” “In all of Trasp space?” Sōsh asked. “It’s something,” Ren said. “I don’t know how the Trasp operate,” Juice  interjected, and we listened because he always had a cool head about him. “The thing is, they’re  people, lik

e the rest of us, regardless of what we think of them. The colonel said something about  a brother. It means she has family. Eventually, I’m sure they’ll let her go home—reunite her with  her family again. If we can figure out who she is and where that’ll be, I imagine we can at least  get a message to her somehow, especially with the signal transmitting. We could get her back.” Sōsh shook his head. “We have to try,” I said. “It’s Leda.” “I want no part of going any deeper into Trasp space. I ai

n’t risking my  life for any Trasp, even Leda.” “Nobody’s asking yet, Sōsh. But we’ll  need Reggie. So when she gets back here, you will not crush her neck, and you won’t say a  word about what we know until Rishi and I say so.” “You’re the captain, I guess.” “Yeah, Sōsh. I guess I am.” In the moment, we missed how the situation  unfolded in the room with Leda and the colonel. All we knew was that by the time we’d all settled  down enough to turn our attention back to Leda, Reggie had left the r

oom and was on her way  back to us. It was just Leda, the colonel, and those strike bots. I asked Rishi to monitor  the feed for critical information but to turn it off while we got our story straight. The plan was to play dumb to convince Reggie we didn’t know what had unfolded on that Trasp  base. I still wasn’t sure what good that’d do, but I knew I wanted to see whether she’d be  straight with us. I expected she wouldn’t be, but I had no idea how I’d react until  the moment. I suppose it was

going to depend on the nature of the lies she told. When Reggie returned alone, she looked nervous. “I have some news,” she told us. Then she went on to explain that Leda had agreed to stay on with the Trasp officer in a sort  of exchange. And Sōsh almost blew it by asking her whether there shouldn’t be a Trasp that came back  in exchange, on account of that being the meaning of the word and all—somebody for somebody. “That’s  not how it works,” Reggie answered, showing a bit of the nerves I’m

sure she was feeling. Reggie promised everything was fine and that we’d see Leda again soon. And I asked her  if we shouldn’t have Leda’s assurance that all was well—hear it from the horse’s mouth, so  to say. And again she told us that’s not how it worked with the Trasp. Leda had volunteered. I imagine she was astonished when we reacted with skepticism and a muted anger for a few minutes  before I gave the order for us to take off. So she’d lied to our faces  about Leda for a second time. We to

ok the jump out per the colonel’s flight  plan, and I was positively furious at her. But I figured I’d sleep on it, try to pin her down  again in the morning and see what she had to say. Rishi shared the last of the footage she had of  Leda with me that night. Damned if I didn’t get madder and madder. Rishi was pretty angry too—I  guess as angry and emotional as she could get. The following morning, Reggie was  at our table, playing that same quiet act she’d played on the way out to  Trasp space

, smiling at us unassumingly. I went out to sit with her just as I had at  the start of the run. And she flashed me the same smile she had days before. Only now I could  see it for what it was. There’d been some real conversations at our table in the past year, I  thought, staring across at this snake of a woman. “There’s one thing I don’t get,” I  said to her. “How are we supposed to get Leda back from this exchange? You  know, when she wants to come back home?” “She’ll contact us through  the

colonel,” Reggie said. “Through the colonel?” “Sparrow will get word.” I wasn’t having it anymore. I thought about how  certain people we knew would do business with a Trasp envoy who was lying to our faces. Then  I asked Rishi whether we’d crossed back into the Letters yet. She confirmed that we had. I left  the table, and then I told Sōsh not to say a word to the woman while he stuffed her in the airlock. Then I let her simmer there. I even had Rishi pop the release valves randomly every now a

nd again  to give her the sense of just how sharp the knife was hanging over her head. I left the light off in  there so that when I went down there and appeared just outside the window, she could see me clearly. “Regina Hoss Boggs,” I piped in to her through the intercom. “You are an intelligent woman. An  intelligent woman, floating in an airlock. I’d say the subtext is obvious. Now, I’m willing to listen  if there’s something you’d like to say to me.” “How do you know my name?” she whispered,

  not so much to me, but to herself. Then it dawned on her. We’d been  watching, listening. We knew. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Burch,” she pleaded more  than attested. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know he was going to take her.” She started crying. “You had a sense of it,” I said. “Now, I thought  you’d be smart enough, being in the position you find yourself now, to be direct and honest,  maybe even forthcoming. But I can see that’s not the case, so I’m going to make this very simple  and ask the ques

tions I want answers to. Airlock opens two ways and two ways only. One way,  goes right out into space, and contrary to popular belief, death is not instantaneous  and not painless by any stretch. The other way opens back in here. Not saying you’ll find  too many friends on the other side of this door, but there’s breathable atmosphere and heat. I’d  think you should be highly motivated to tell me the damn truth for once.” “I will. I will. I swear.” “You knew Leda was Trasp from the jump, correc

t?” “Yes.” “Now this is the key question.  Don’t you lie to me, woman.” “I won’t.” “You suspected he’d pick her up, didn’t you?” She paused for a beat and considered. “I thought he might take an interest in her. And I figured he’d try to ID her.  I had no idea who she was, though.” “You wanted him to take her, didn’t you?” She was shaking her head as if to deny it, pausing, considering. “Rishi,” I said. “Remove the safety measures from the outer lock.” The outer door clicked and the motor in the

air valves hummed and hissed. “I did, Burch. Yes, I did. She’s perfect. I’ve been waiting for someone like her for years, and  she was just here on this ship like serendipity.” “What do you mean?” “She’s Trasp but she’s not Trasp anymore. She can see both sides, speak  for both sides. They’re not going to harm her, Burch. She’s a war hero. Honored dead. She’ll  be like a living god amongst her people back home. Venerated. Her word will carry weight, and  what you’ve given her, a home, friends,

love, support—she’ll never be able to see any of you as  enemies again. She will speak this to her people. You have to believe me. All I want is to end the  war. Leda can help. She will help. Please, Burch.” “You know, ship,” I said to Rishi. “The one thing  I can’t stand more than anything about people like Regina here is that they’re so convinced they know  the right thing that they never bother to tell the truth about what they’re doing, because they don’t  have a lick of faith in us little p

eople who don’t know any better. The fighters. The farmers. The  engineers. They think they have to trick us into doing the right thing, rather than asking us for  our help. What do you think, ship, is it that they don’t trust us or that they don’t deign to ask for  our consent because they might have to share the credit on the off chance their ideas pan out?” “A mix of both, I reckon,” Rishi said. “Your call, ship,” I said. “You were closer  to Leda than any of us, and I thought of her as a dam

n close friend if not a sister.” The outer airlock gave a hard pop, and Reggie screamed. It wasn’t what she thought, though. It  was the safety on the outer lock door re-engaging. “We’re going to need help from Sparrow  to get Leda back,” Rishi said. “And sure, we could lie to him, misrepresent the way  things happened out here, tell him the Trasp double-crossed Reggie. Some people would do  that. But I don’t think we’re those people.” Reggie, realizing that she wasn’t getting spaced,  fixed her

gaze back on the window and was about to pour out her gratitude for Rishi’s mercy. I  didn’t want to hear it. I turned out the light and left her there to float and shiver for a  few more hours before letting her back inside. That night, Rishi and I watched the footage from  Raal again, all the way through, just to be sure we hadn’t missed anything important. That last bit  was tough to take, what she’d said. She stayed for us, because she didn’t want us to die. Not because  she had some higher

calling like Reggie believed, like it was her destiny to bring two worlds  together, and maybe it was. But she stayed for us, so we could live. I damn well wasn’t going  to leave it at that, despite what she said. She’d told Reggie, “Tell the captain that we’re  family, and that I’ll always find my way home.” And she knew we were listening. And I knew  she’d never stop trying to get back to us. I wasn’t going to leave her out there. So it was  back to Sparrow to drop off our guest and to not ta

ke no for an answer on getting Leda back. There was more, of course, but all that was for another day. For now, there was a single  significant certainty. I said it aloud to make it official, and Rishi echoed it right  back to me. “We’re coming for you, Archangel, whatever your name is. You’ll always be Leda  to us. We are coming, and we’ll see you soon.” Archangel This has been an original story written and  read by PE Rowe. Thank you for listening. I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did like

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