     |
One month later...
Planet Hermes, Roueton City
The "Tri-System"
The Hom System, Amaron Quadrant, Vidur Sector
DEC 08 2793/2793.342; 2130 Hours (CST)
Joe Kane’s face wrinkled in a look of surprise and humor. The old bartender gave a salty-enough grin as a pair of two new customers approached the counter. "It goes with my business to expect the unexpected, but I can honestly say that you’re just about the last person in the bloody galaxy I expected to see come waltzin’ into my bar today."
Blair smiled earnestly at the bartender as he sat on one of the unoccupied stools in the Sinner’s Inn bar. "Um, how’s it going?"
Vell took a stool at the other side, grinning at Joe Kane. "Relax, Joe, he’s cool."
"Lev, my boy!" Joe exclaimed, heartily. "Lev Arris! Haven’t seen you in some time. Looking for a new score? I’ve got a whole list lined up ripe for the pickin’ if you’re interested."
Vell held up a hand. "Not into that business anymore, Joe, but thanks. Just gimme a Crius Sunrise and a—"
"Hell’s Kitchen," Blair finished. "Please."
"A Hell’s Kitchen, huh?" Joe gave a smirk suggesting that wasn’t a selection he was used to hearing from his customers. "Very well, one Hell’s Kitchen for the Confederation hero. On the house," he added, grinning.
"Hey, thanks."
"Think nothing of it, kid! It’s the least I can do for the savior of the galaxy!" Joe cheerily reached behind the counter to pull out what looked like a rifle with his metallic hand, then literally shot and filled a glass with the liquid it produced. He slid the glass to Blair, then went to work on Vell’s.
Vell turned to Blair while he waited for his drink. "So what are you going to do now, Chris?"
Blair took in a mouthful of his Hell’s Kitchen. "Well, I did rejoin the Confed Space Force during the Steltek invasion. I don’t remember me resigning yet, do you? Last I heard I was a brigadier general, so..."
"That’s
it?" Vell took the glass that Joe gave him. "You’re just going back to the service like the last
hundred years didn’t happen?"
He half-smiled, tempted to remind Vell that he’d been genetically enhanced by Confed to be subconsciously
familiar with the present. "Hey, I’m
getting the hang of this century," he said instead.
"But what about your background? People already suspected you were a phony, but if word gets out that you’re really just a cl—"
Blair waved a hand nonchalantly. "Space Marshal Albrecht, bastard though he is, has already convinced the Admiralty Court and High Command to sponsor the original story they told me to the media—with a few modifications to my benefit: okay, Christopher Blair came out of hiding after faking his death in 2681 and participated in the coming of the Firekkan Commonwealth in 2684, went insane, disappeared, came back almost a year later, and was assassinated in 2685. This must have really put their cover-up writers to the test—see, his body was recovered and put into cryogenic stasis for 108 years, during which time he was psychologically rehabilitated to sanity, then awakened earlier this year to participate in the Steltek invasion counterstrike. Got a kick out of that one."
Vell chuckled dryly. Sounded like Blair had made a deal with the Devil, but he seemed happy enough with it so he wasn’t going to spoil it for him—he’d been through enough shit of late, the whole dying-twice-being-cloned thing. "And just how are they planning on explaining how you died destroying that Steltek mothership?"
"Simple. The story they’re writing up is that my Synchronic Temporal Warp generator was actually working just fine on my Excalibur 3500, so when I set off that Nuke’em, I miraculously survived."
Vell gave a laugh. "The Houdini of Living Legends now, eh?"
"Something like that. But anyway, I then cloaked and went into hiding for five months kind of like I did after that first battle in the Nephilim War,—mental stress of my rehabilitation, they’re going to say—showing up only earlier this week to confront Baron Jhathar. The shit they’re writing up is real rich. Good reading material, really... very sci-fi."
Vell finished off his drink. "So they’re going to lie for you—make everybody think you’re the Real McCoy with this cover story of theirs? Eliminate any connection to you and cloning? All out of the goodness of their heart?"
"That was the plan, yep. Hey, they got their Space-Folding Drive, they’re happy campers." Blair downed the rest of his as well. "Somehow I can’t bring myself to argue with them. I mean, I am Christopher Blair. I have all of his memories, all of his thoughts... what are people but a sum of their memories?"
"Huh," Vell harrumphed at Blair’s thought for the day. He seemed less than convinced about the whole thing. "But you still think you had a wife and kids, don’t you? The real Blair didn’t. This shouldn’t be news to you."
Blair nodded, though solemnly. "I’d rather remember that than remember all that business of going mad and going on a killing rage against Confed. Wouldn’t you?"
"Understandable, I guess."
Blair stroked his goatee as he become lost in thought. "After I beat that Kilrathi baron, I finally realized something. Why I am here."
Vell snorted. "Well, according to Albrecht, you were originally cloned and G.E.ed to help fight off alien incursions like the Steltek one. And as far as I can tell, that incursion is over and done with. You scattered their mothership to every corner of the Avalon Sector. Mission accomplished. Hoorah."
"No, it’s not that." If Blair was serious before, he was even more so now. "I’m here to redeem myself; to redeem the name of Christopher Blair. I’ve been given the chance to right the wrongs of my past... wipe the shit off my name and maybe, just maybe enjoy some semblance of a normal life.."
"A noble ambition, I suppose." Something else was on Vell’s mind, Blair could see. "So what’s going on with you and Kincaid? Still going, I trust?"
"Yep. Figure if I go back to Confed, I’ll get back my wing command of the TCS Blair... probably have to switch over to the Space Navy this time, though." First thing he’d do when he came aboard would be to have the blasted thing’s name changed. He was flattered by the megacarrier’s name and all, but the naming of it was done in tribute to a dead hero... and Blair was still alive and kicking. The Concord’s Claw had a nice ring to it... "We’ll be together."
Vell chuckled, grinning. "I’m happy for you."
"There you are!"
Vell whirled around at the new voice. Blair didn’t recognize the chrome-clad woman, but he remembered her sultry voice from the brief comm conversation they’d had during the Steltek invasion.
Melissa Kathryn Banks.
"Don’t you have anything to say to me, flyboy?"
Scratching the back of his head, Blair stood and gave Vell a look. "I’ll just... uh, check the shuttle. You two must have a lot to, um, y’know..."
"Hey!" Vell called, suddenly appearing to have an uncharacteristic wave of nervousness overcome him. "You don’t have to lea—"
Melissa put a hand over his mouth, stopping him in mid-sentence. "Vell, Vell, Vell! I’m away for a few days and you get all fidgety on me. Have I taught you nothing, my love? Come here."
Vell’s tension ebbed as he held her close, the two pulling each other into an intimate embrace.
Blair gave the couple a fond glance, then turned back to the door.
Joe looked up from cleaning a glass. "Don’t be a stranger, now," he called after him.
Blair smiled back. "I won’t."
He did, after all, now have a life to get back to.
F I N I S