Jinx glared at the sterile white bulkhead across from her and hissed out an oath. She was more frigging brain damaged than she realised. Either that or Kaplan had used mind control in the shower, along with fistfuls of hygiene gel.
Her plans for the morning had been simple: one last 'hurrah', slicked up against Kaplan; a final cup of the Silver Dawn's superior coffee; then a shuttle back to the surface.
How the hell had she ended up with her next to naked arse perched on a diagnostic bed, Channing logging freshly drawn blood samples a few metres away?
Swallowing the bile in her throat, Jinx picked at the gauzy medical onesie clinging to her skin. The examination room, like the high-security ward outside it, gleamed. Pale bulkheads and sleek tech. That would've been enough to make sweat bead down her spine, but shadows moved beyond the frosted plex door: Sun and an equally lethal-looking, dark-bearded soldier, Natano.
Kaplan had posted them outside before heading off to his own med check and meetings. Both wore headsets like his.
Rha Si.
The ward was full of them: patients, staff, and visitors. Walking in earlier with Kaplan had been ... interesting. The whine in her skull had risen with each unfriendly eye contact. Sun and Natano weren't outside just to keep her from bolting.
Aberrant. She understood the term better now. The Rha Si saw her as a threat. Or at the very least, they resented the fact they couldn't search her mind. One of their own was missing, taken by the alien enemy they'd been created to combat.
And that enemy seemed again intent on major bloodshed.
Before Kaplan had left for his appointments, his friend Atlas had stopped by with an update. Teams on board the Bullhead had found tech consistent with the missing Rha Si's vessel, along with the personal effects and ID pips of hundreds of other Coalition citizens. People taken from Tirus 7 and multiple small ships.
One survivor had been found, but even he, after miraculously surviving twenty-four hours in a hive larder, had almost been lost during the past sleep cycle. His luck had only held because one of Atlas' team had been keeping a 'psionic eye' on him. At the first sign of respiratory distress, help had been dispatched.
Jinx closed her eyes, memories of the barge returning: the stench of death and rot. She couldn't imagine what that man and so many others had gone through, not and keep her slippery grip on sanity. Fear for her missing friends rose. Atlas' grim report replayed in her skull, along with recall of his frag-cut face. Flicking her lashes back up, she eyed the shadows beyond the door.
She was starting to appreciate the role the Rha Si played in protecting the Coalition.
But she was far from ready to join a fan club.
Across the room, Channing checked the labels on the blood she'd taken. The third time she'd done so. As if she didn't trust her eyes. Her mind. Audio buds sat in her ears, filling her skull with music. Thrash rock, because apparently it was difficult to tune out—think past. She'd also chosen the diagnostic room furthest from the main ward area and closest to the exit.
Kaplan hadn't had to explain to the doctor what had happened to her on her last shift; the woman had been smart enough to figure it out herself.
Jinx exhaled. Both she and the doc needed to ditch their intrusive company. Which meant they needed this medical shit done sometime this century.
"Channing." Jinx waited for the woman's head to jerk up. "Quit second-guessing yourself. I checked the lab-request codes myself. They're for a drug screen and general health analysis only. Nothing that'll give the bastards a convenient excuse to lock me up."
Channing gnawed her lip and continued to tap her data pad. "I—I just need to confirm they're logged as research samples. Then I'll book an independent lab to keep the results out of the hospital system."
Jinx rolled her eyes, but in truth, the doctor's caution eased a few nerves. For all her fluttering, Channing was proving to be a solid ally—no willing puppet. After learning any 'aberrant' results might be used against her patient, she'd promised to keep the checks to a minimum and personally destroy all bio samples. The woman had brains and an actual heartbeat under her germ-retardant med-tech coat. Maybe on a different day, on a different ship, when things finally got intolerable...
Jinx killed the thought. She had a little time yet before she had to seek medical help or decide on a more final, 'tidier' course of action. Despite her major glitch and a rough sleep cycle—new and weird dreams mixing with the usual bullshit—she felt fine now. No more screams or other hallucinations. No fiery illusion of needles in her brain. Just that faint lightheaded sense of disconnection she was growing used to.
She looked to the door. That minute, she was more concerned about Kaplan's med check, the mission it might clear him for. He'd looked grim when he'd left her.
So had Atlas and Sun.
Something ugly was brewing.
And worrying about it, getting involved, would be seriously brain dead.
Jinx suppressed an oath. Getting more tangled up with Kaplan and his work would be a one-way trip to an asylum—probably of a certain high councillor's choosing. Staying even for just another day would do her no favours.
Eyeing the exit, she forced herself to deal with that reality. She'd sign whatever nondisclosure documents were needed to get clear, then return to Tirus 7. She needed to see the damage in person, sift through the debris, and find, if not her missing friends, answers at least. While she still could.
"I've used a false patient name, just to be safe." Channing finally turned from the samples and headed over. "Cordelia Black." She tapped one ear bud. "The lead vocalist of the band I'm listening to."
Raising an eyebrow, Jinx pulled herself out of her thoughts and, not for the first time that morning, reassessed the outwardly prim med-tech. "You're listening to The Brain Eaters? Shit, doc. Any psychic bastard wants in your head today, he'll have to take painkillers."
Channing winced. "Ms Koel—"
"Jinx." The woman was breaking rules for her. They were way past formalities.
Channing gave a pained smile. "Jinx, once again, I'm so, so sorry for—"
"Stow it. Seriously." Jinx flopped down on the med bed. "You understand this psionic BS better than I do. Do you actually have anything to apologise for?"
"Besides my pathetic naivety?" Channing moved to the bed's console to call up a diagnostic.
Staring at the ceiling, Jinx silently vowed to kick Admiral Zio Tarak in his sterile G-alterant balls if she ever saw him again. She could handle being drugged against her will. She'd been chem dosed before—and shot at, beaten, and electroshocked numerous times over the years. What she couldn't stomach was the look in Channing's eyes. That of a new victim. Someone who was going to have to dig down and find a well of strength they hadn't needed before. The doc would do it, though. If her go-to band was the Eaters, that look of freckled fragility was only skin deep.
"Starting a general scan now." Channing flipped up the bed's head-niche cover. "No detailed imaging, as agreed."
Jinx pulled in a long breath, her flesh creeping as the low hum under her increased. "I appreciate you working with me on this."
"Jinx, if it were safe for you, I'd run a thousand more diagnostics and keep you in for observation. You've been given potent drugs. You have a family history of brain irregularities—"
"I'm good. Really. Nothing but a dull headache. No noticeable side effects."
"But you haven't experienced any of the predicted effects either." Beyond the head niche's cover, Channing tapped something on the bed's console. "That's stumped the specialist who developed the agents, Dr Farnquar. He wants detailed tests done on your brain activity and neurochems."
"Channing—"
A light touch on her arm. "Ms Koel, I'm afraid your test results are going to get 'misfiled' again."
Relief came with a slight head rush. "Doc, I owe you."
"You know that's not true."
"Channing, this isn't what you signed up for either—having to lie, having your mind messed with." Jinx thought of her plans to skip ship. She felt like she was leaving the woman to the wolves. "When do the bastards intend to 'reprogram' you?"
"Later today." The doctor was silent a moment before she released a deep breath. "They're not bad people, Jinx." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "They've risked and sacrificed a lot to protect the Coalition. All of them experience some level of chronic pain. Some have greatly decreased life expectancies—"
Recall drowned Channing out. Kaplan's words from the night before replayed: his comment about not being made for a long and easy life.
Jinx's breath cut off. Everything took a slow, sickening slide. "Channing... Kaplan's got a med check this morning. Is he—?"
"I'm sorry, Jinx. I can't discuss another patient. And you're not cleared for this information. I've already got you in enough trouble with my idle prattle."
"Screw that. Is Kaplan okay?"
"It's... It's just a routine check, as I understand it. All the third-gen Rha Si are having them as a precaution."
"For what? Channing, don't bullshit me. Kaplan said his brother is ill and that the missing guy, Callan Tarak, was on med leave. What the hell is wrong with them?"
"Jinx, if there were a problem, it'd be highly classified."
"Do I look like I give a shit?"
"You do. About Senuri Kaplan." Channing abruptly moved closer, her voice lowering. "Which is why I'll give you a purely 'speculative' hypothesis. Such as, any problem would most likely involve the Rha Si's regulatory neurotech. It's Qua-zi technology, adapted for human use, and yet to be perfected. It's possible that, in individuals with complex psi profiles, it might not be able to keep up with the psionic development that occurs with aging."
"Meaning?"
Channing placed a hand on Jinx's arm. "A loss of psionic control can result in sensory and neurological overload. If left unresolved, coma and death can result. I'm sorry. We're working on a solution, but haven't been able to identify the exact problem."
Jinx went cold. A thousand little details slotted into place: people's reactions, Kaplan's behaviour, his ready acceptance of her situation.
"Jinx?" Channing's concerned face appeared around the head niche. "Are you alright? Your pulse and respiration are elevated. I'm detecting signs of acute stress."
"I'm fine." She wasn't. She really, really wasn't.
"Jinx, Senuri Kaplan is most likely stable. He hasn't reported any issues."
He wouldn't—not until he had to. Jinx curled her hands into fists. She knew too well what a person would do when there was no hope of changing things. "How's the scan going?" She had to get out of there, find Kaplan.
Channing glanced back to the bed's console then straightened. "General scan is complete." She slipped back the head niche's cover. "Nothing concerning found. I'll just do a closer scan of your timed-dose implant, then we'll be done. Can you tell me what meds it's releasing and the dosage?"
"A timed what?" It took a second for the doctor's words to register. "Channing, I don't have a med implant."
"There's a device at the base of your skull. It showed up on the general scan."
Jinx sat abruptly upright, her hand going to the back of her neck. Pulse thudding, she met the doctor's concerned stare. "I've never, in my entire life, agreed to a dosing implant."
"But that's—" Channing's eyes rounded. "Oh—oh." She hurried around to take a closer look. "Implantation looks recent, going by tissue healing. Maybe a week. Let me do a detailed scan."
"Jesus, Channing. Just get the fucking thing out." Jinx pulled in air, but it felt like her lungs were half sized. Someone had goddamn 'stung' her, a nasty trick some criminals used to take down live obstacles or victims on a schedule. Useful in heists and abductions. Some scum bounty hunter on Tirus had probably targeted her. Or a slaver wanting unmodified meat.
"Lie face down." Channing grabbed up a portable med scanner and laser scalpel. "Try to hold still and relax. It'll take a second to dampen the involved nerves."
"God, this is not my frigging week." Jinx gritted her teeth and did as asked. She felt a dull jab of pain, like she'd been poked hard under the skull. Recall flashed: darkness; slick deck plates under her hands, against her cheek.
The bottom of her world dropped out.
"Got it." Channing applied something cool—a wound sealant. "I'll have its contents analysed."
Jinx scrambled up right and clamped her hand over the wound. Her mind reeled as more recall flickered. "Analyse it now." Her voice came out hoarse. "Now, Channing." She slipped off the bed and made for her clothes. She ripped her onesie clean in half and yanked on her underwear at light speed.
"Jinx?" Channing's eyes were wide. "Are you alright?"
"Not even close." Jinx hauled up her jeans and shot the doctor a grim look. "Five days ago, I noticed a scrape on my neck. I got it after losing consciousness on a Xykeree barge. The same goddamn one that missing Rha Si's blood was found on."
Channing's jaw dropped. "Oh—oh, Lord." She snatched up the sample bag containing the device then raced to collect up her other lab samples. "I—I'll do the analysis now. And run your blood work. Stay here. We'll do more checks once we know what we're dealing with."
"I need to talk to Kaplan." Jinx grabbed up her com, but it was useless. She'd been deemed a security risk; most of the unit's functions had been disabled. But Kaplan was in the ward somewhere. She yanked on her top then hopped about on one foot to get a boot on. "Doc, I'll meet you back here in half an hour."
Channing nodded and headed for the door.
Jinx jammed her foot into her other boot and followed the doctor out. Sun and her Rha Si colleague Natano were waiting. Both frowned as they watched Channing flee the ward. They'd sensed something despite Channing's efforts to fill her skull with nothing but high-octane thrash rock.
"Where's Kaplan?" Jinx jerked to a stop in front of Sun.
The Rha Si retargeted her killer gaze. "He's busy, aberrant. You're not his current priority."
"Save the bitchy shit. I need to get a message to him. It's import—" Jinx cut off, tinnitus flaring painfully.
A familiar, haughty figure strode into the ward, ice-white robes flicking about her heels. Shau—with her pale, amorphous alien companion from the day before, its biosphere unit carried by a humanoid droid. The high councillor signalled sharply to two security officers moving in her and the alien's wake. "Escort Ms Koel to the brig."
"What? Hang the fuck on." Jinx backed up, holding up a hand to halt them, but the officers kept rolling in.
Sun moved to intercept Shau. "High Councillor, is there a problem?"
"You're with me, Lieutenant Samsun." Shau swept past without breaking stride. "We've a family matter to attend to."
Jinx felt the blood drain from her face. "Kaplan?" She elbowed one of the security officers as he tried to grab her, then shoved him back as he attempted to slap on restraints. "Where the hell is Kap—?"
A stun bolt to the shoulder shot fire down her spine. She hit the deck, reeling. The last thing she saw as she was dragged out of the ward was a swirl of pale robes.