Even after Phoebe had paid her final respects to both Izzy and Davidson, Tessa stood beside her lover’s casket, one hand resting gently on the top, absently caressing, half hoping that some shred of the link they had shared through touch might whisper up her arm and into her mind. The fabric-wrapped package lay cradled in her other arm, almost forgotten as memories of better times, of the joy and happiness they’d felt together flitted through her mind, lost themselves at the far end of her psyche. Tears framed a soft smile as Tessa pulled in a deep breath, let her hand return to her side, eyes closing, lips parting on a whisper.
“I’ll miss you, Izzy.” She opened her eyes again, looked over at the holograph and caught Izzy’s eyes staring back at her again, staring back over that wild grin which had become so familiar, so expected. A moment later, Tessa broke the stare, looked away again, smile fading.
“I lost a part of myself when I lost you.” She managed finally, then spared one last glance at the holograph, at the face of her lover. “I’ll never forget you, Izzy. You were my life, and now that you’re gone, I...” She breathed, let her eyes drift skyward, losing themselves in the ductwork tracing its way along the ceiling as she took a moment to steady herself, to force back the tears.
“Goodbye, Izzy.” She finally said, and in the pause she forced the broken edge of a smile. “See you again soon.”
I hope.
Looking up slowly, her eyes found the door of the gauss bay, the two people who had come late, who had lingered on as long as she had, talking to one another in quiet tones. One of them she recognized immediately– the old, grizzled pilot, Captain Mac. The other was a stranger to her, a woman in a beat-up, white flightsuit and a leather jacket covered in ancient, fraying patches. She looked up in response to Tessa’s gaze and smiled reflexively, skin twisting disturbingly around the stout leather strap of the eyepatch she wore, the skull and crossbones emblazoned across it leering in the soft light. Tessa nodded once, smiled the edge of her own smile as Mac glanced over and the strange woman folded her arms, showing off the long strips and plates of steel that traveled up and across both limbs, threading their way in lines up her neck to poke out periodically in tiny patches that were as silver as her viciously buzz-cut and spiked hair. Mac beckoned once, quickly, almost absently, then turned and offered some mumbled counterpoint in a conversation Tessa couldn’t hear.
“Mac.” Tessa managed, smiling softly as she crossed the bay, stopped a few paces from him. “Thank you for coming.”
“That Izzy was a fine woman.” He nodded, grinned. “A firecracker! My kind of girl. Wouldn’t have missed the chance to pay my respects if they’d offered me my own moon not to go.” The strange woman glanced at him, grinned, caught the quick grin he shot back as Tessa looked away reflexively, her own smile fading.
“But!” He made a loose gesture. “Eisenherz, I’d like you to meet the leader of the Ixion Condottieri, Grand Marshall Imalda Grande.”
Tessa looked up, caught Imalda’s steel-tough gaze in the same instant that the woman extended her hand. “Pleasure, Lieutenant Commander.”
Nodding once, absently, Tessa took her hand, shook it weakly. The woman had a grip as strong as iron, the kind of grip that was as hard, as firm and no nonsense as her personality. Imalda offered a lukewarm smile in response.
“We flew a couple missions together back in ‘45, when the ‘Moes were killing farmers back on Toliman.” He grinned. “She was a hell of a pilot back then, and now look where she is! Leader of her own merc outfit!” He slugged Imalda playfully on the shoulder. “God damn we’re getting old.”
The GMOs weren’t killing farmers. Came the unbidden thought. Tessa lowered her eyes reflexively. They were the farmers.
“Speak for yourself, you old geezer.” Imalda shot back, grinning. “You were old when that war started, flying that old piece of shit Slashdriver against those gen-engineered freaks.” She laughed. “You’re lucky so many of them were bred to be docile! If there’d’ve been more of those bloodthirsty Derivative soldiers out there, you’d have been toast!”
If you’d just left them alone, let them have the world that they had bled and poured every ounce of their being into, there never would have been a war... no one would have had to die.
“Docile, hell!” Mac laughed back. “Those fuckers were all a bunch of warmongering crazies who went off the deep end when the good people of the commonwealth voted in those laws trying to keep them from marrying our daughters and acting like a bunch of animals in our streets. I swear, even back then the people in power knew enough to know that the only good GMO–
“I–” Tessa said suddenly, catching the eyes of both Mac and Imalda. She swallowed uneasily, forced herself to speak. “It’s been a long day, and I...” She gestured toward the door. “I think... I’m going to go lay down.” A quick, nervous half-shrug. “Rest a little.”
“You sure?” Mac turned to face her, grin softening to something more comforting, less brusque and intimidating. “We were about to head over to the Officer’s Lounge, have a few drinks for Izzy.” He gestured loosely. “We were hoping you might want to come with.”
Tessa looked down, pulled in a deep breath, looked up again, managed the best smile she could. “Maybe... maybe some other time...”
“You know, it’s not good for you to be alone after you’ve lost someone.” Imalda put in. “Even if she was just a wingman.” She gestured. “You need to spend some time with friends, talk to someone.”
Friends. Tessa repressed the urge to grimace. Yeah right. If only you knew. She shook her head, pushed aside the thoughts, looked away again.
“Look, I really appreciate it, but I... I...” She closed her eyes, looked up and met both glances in turn. Somewhere within her, a little voice came alive, urged her to go, to spend her day doing something other than laying in bed for hours, managing some broken and quiet repeat of the previous day, the night that still hung dark and hazy in her mind. Swallowing, she nodded once, managed the edge of a smile.
“S-Sure, okay.”
