Orbital Academy XI

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by MaddiroseX

(Did you love this story? Hate it? Want the series to continue?
Please let me know at maddirosex@gmail.com!)

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Inside of Jackson's head, a small reminder alert pinged, and
he took a breath. The ping was vaguely musical, and for the
nanosecond it lasted Jackson enjoyed and appreciated the fact
that he had a snapshot of music that only he could enjoy. The
breath ended and he returned his focus to the problem at hand.


Very occasionally Jackson would wonder what it would be like to
have a normal human brain. He would probably be lazy, perhaps
absentminded, maybe talkative. Perhaps he might've even had a say
in how his personality developed. His mother had taken that
choice away from him with her extensive use of cocaine and critz
and alcohol. When he was born his mind was so malformed there
were only two options; augmentation or no augmentation. Without a
CPU he would be a ward of Orbital Minera, his brain running a
single function where a normal human could handle several, barely
classifiable as alive much less intelligent. So really, the
social worker hadn't had a choice either, giving the techs and
medics permission to use him as a test case for their latest
augmentations.


The alert pinged, and Jackson took a breath. There were a lot of
items stored in his long-term harddrive, but the currently
focused goal was to get food. In theory he could switch goals,
thumbing through the items in his mental to-do list, but choosing
a different goal wouldn't help him obtain food, so he dismissed
the thought.  If he ever bothered to inform them, the techs would
probably be embarrassed about that serious flaw in their design.
A chip designed to force his single-function-brain into achieving
a goal wouldn't ever allow him to willingly choose a different
one. The only time a goal changed was due to outside factors,
like someone talking, or a change in the environment.


Jackson stepped down from the pod's ramp, absentmindedly helping
Missy and Aimee off as well. The crowd parted for him as he made
his way towards the doorway leading to the mess hall. *They think
I'm mourning my fallen comrades,* the information registered to
him, but he couldn't empathize with it. What possible use could
moaning and wailing have in accomplishing any of his goals? *Of
course, they're important,* Jackson admitted, mentally scrolling
through his tasks to make sure goal 11125 still had a high
priority, *but who can spend so much time not doing something?*


He had reached the mess and was filling a plate when the goal
priorities shifted with a click, goal 87546 stashing away like a
satisfying piece in his mind's puzzle as soon as he successfully
acquired food. While he looked for a table, he enjoyed the
leisurely process of flipping through his tasks to select his
next goal. Goal 11125 was one of the highest priorities at the
moment, since the sooner he mounted a rescue attempt the more
likely it would be to succeed. *That one will have to be divided
into several subgoals though...* He set his tray down and browsed
through for smaller goals that he could quickly complete before
tackling that one, pausing only to breath when the alert ping
reminded him.


"Jackson!" Even in the crowded and bustling mess hall Jackson
recognized Cynthia's voice; it was one of the most attractive
things about her. It was silvery and light, almost musical. *Like
the breathing alert,* he realized, *I wonder if that's why I like
it so much*. Her voice was concerned now, and he liked the
thought that she worried about him. Deeper, more instinctual
feelings stirred in him at the sound of her voice, and  goal
71609 slid upward in priority by several places. Part of him was
slightly ashamed as he selected it, that he was prioritizing such
a animalistic goal over saving his squadmates, but it had been a
few weeks since he'd last satisfied those urges, and he always
planned better when they were satisfied.


He almost winced when he turned. Just behind Cynthia, Samantha
was also approaching, glancing at the other girl with confusion.
*A guy just can't catch a break around here,* Jackson mentally
sighed, as the CPU in his head whirred with the incoming data.
His goal split into subgoals in a picosecond, and he immediately
felt disoriented until he could translate them into words. Seeing
the two girls next to each other highlighted their differences
and brought them into sharp contrast. Cynthia had clearly just
come from the hangars, since her face was still smudged with
carbon stains and engine grease. Her red hair was tied back with
a piece of black ribbon, and Jackson spared a moment to
appreciate the single strand that had fallen out of the tie.
Samantha had also clearly come from the hangars as well, but her
work was far more clerical. Smooth unblemished skin and soft
hands set her about as far apart from Cynthia as she could be,
but with the proximity Jackson realized that the ringlets around
her face were almost the exact same shade of red. *I guess I have
a type after all,* he pondered, *cute red-haired scrubs.* The
alert ping reminded him to breath, and refocused him on the task
at hand. *Right. Don't want to end things with Cynthia. Don't
want to end things with Sam. Don't want to lie to either. You can
never give me a simple goal, can you?* Jackson scolded the chip.
On the next ping, he took an extra deep breath.


"Cynthia! Sam!" he gave a small smile and stepped forward,
putting one arm around Sam's waist and using the other hand to
pull Cynthia forward. He kissed Cynthia on the forehead, Sam on
the cheek, and then turned back to the table, "Fuck have I missed
you! Come on and join me, please!" He indicated the empty seats
at his table, smoothly sitting and hoping the ice in his stomach
wouldn't show on his face. To his relief, both girls sat, though
both now looked unsure of themselves.
"I heard about your planetary," Samantha said cautiously,
breaking the slightly awkward silence, "Jackson I'm so sorry."
"They're not dead yet," Jackson began eating as he spoke, "their
beacons are still lit."
"Jackson..." Cynthia reached across the table to place a
comforting hand on his, an action that Jackson noticed made
Samantha frown.
"It's okay, I'm not in denial or anything," Jackson chewed
thoughtfully, trying to decide how he would handle his current
goal, "if their beacons go out I'll deal with it at that point,
but until then there's still hope."


Samantha opened her mouth, and the highest priority goal demanded
that he interrupt her. If he could stop them from addressing the
elephant in the room, there was a chance that he could simply
keep them both by pure inertia. Both girls were a little
off-balance, and the chip was telling him to keep them that way.
Instead he kept quiet, letting her speak. He knew it was his
imagination, but he sometimes felt like he could hear his CPU
screaming and grinding as he ignored the route that would
technically work the best, but he would much rather opt for open
communication than for manipulating his way to his goals.
"Jackson, I know this probably isn't the best time," Samantha
said, unaware of the conflict in Jackson's CPU, "but...who is
this?"
"I'm sorry, that's rude of me," Jackson apologized, "Sam, this is
Cynthia, she works in fuel processing. Cyn, Samantha, she's in
ship transfer admin." He took another bite as he waited for the
inevitable follow-up questions. Cynthia's hand was still on his,
which was a good sign, and he idly ran a thumb back and forth
over it as the girls exchanged glances.
"Pleased to meet you," Cynthia murmured, looking at Jackson
instead of Samantha with narrowed eyes, but a half smile playing
around the corner of her lips.


"Likewise," Samantha sounded unsure of herself, and Jackson's CPU
informed him that his chances of goal completion would increase
vastly if he simply played to her unsureness.
"You two are my two best friends on the entire orbital..."
Jackson continued. The techs told him the chip couldn't actually
form commands, that it simply allowed him to focus better, but he
could swear he heard it talking to him; "Confuse her! You're so
close if you can just keep her on her toes! Lie!"
"...and in answer to the question neither of you are asking, yes,
I'm sleeping with both of you." Jackson powered through the
chip's instructions.


Samantha's mouth dropped open in surprise. Cynthia folded her
arms and leaned back, but she was grinning.
"The balls on this one," she chuckled.
"You...you're just going to *say* that? Just admit it to both of
us?" Samantha spluttered.
"Course, why not?" Jackson took another bite, "it wouldn't be
very nice to hide that information would it?"
"But it's 'nice' to sleep with both of us at the same time?"
Samantha almost exploded. Jackson shrugged,
"I suppose I didn't assume we were exclusive," he said, "that's
why I didn't mind you banging your co-worker on the side."
Samantha blushed bright red, and Cynthia threw her head back and
laughed aloud. *She not only didn't realize I knew... But she
also thought we were exclusive at the time?* Jackson considered
whether or not to be offended, and finally shrugged it off.
"I didn't...I wasn't..." Samantha stammered. She turned to
Cynthia, no doubt hoping to find someone to back her up, "and
you're okay with this? With him just going back and forth between
the two of us?"
"I never made an assumption about what we were," Cynthia raised
both hands, "Jackson's fun to talk to and he's a good lay, we
never put expectations on each other beyond that. Although," she
reached forward and grabbed Jackson's spoon, pointing it
menacingly at Jackson, "last month when I needed help cleaning
the capacity core on your cruiser, and you said 'oh I've got
physical training to catch up on', I swear to god if you blew me
off to get some action from her..."


Jackson grinned, "Actual PT, I swear," he said, truthfully, "I
like to think I'm a little more respectful than ditching one of
you for the other." Cynthia used the spoon to steal a bite of
chocolate paste from his plate, and he didn't stop her. Samantha
seemed completely out of her element and bewildered, but she
wasn't leaving. His CPU stopped screaming at him, and he felt his
shoulders imperceptibly relax.
"I guess it's just...different...to me," Samantha finally
mumbled, "I'm not used to this kind of situation. It seems
weird."
"Weirder than when you thought you were both cheating on each
other?" Cynthia asked brightly around a mouthful of chocolate.
Samantha blushed again.
"You'll have your hands full if you get with these admin types
Jackson," Cynthia grinned, "full of strange expectations."
"No call for that kind of talk Cyn," Jackson broke in before
Samantha could respond, "Sam's a fine lady, and alongside you
she's one of the people I care about most on this station."
"You're right, that was uncalled for," Cynthia agreed, "I'm sorry
Samantha."
"I'm not a prude or anything," Samantha said defensively, "I just
don't like the thought of sharing Jackson back and forth."
"Well..." Jackson said thoughtfully, carefully, "if that's the
way you feel, we don't have to do this back and forth."


Samantha looked at him uncomprehending, but Cynthia clearly saw
what he was implying almost instantly.
"Jackson Carter Rade," she leaned back in her chair, fixing
Jackson with a stare that was halfway between incredulous and
impressed, "let me get this straight. Your two girlfriends meet
each other, and even though you managed to stretch your luck
enough to avoid a major blowout, you now think you're smooth
enough to turn the situation into a threesome?"
Jackson carefully finished his last bite, considering how to
answer. In the end, he opted for honesty.
"Yep," he said. Cynthia and Samantha looked back and forth
between him and each other. Jackson had to admit that the stunned
looks on their faces was amusing enough to be worth whatever
answer he got.
"Well, say what you will about him, the boy's got stones,"
Cynthia finally said. Samantha was opening and closing her mouth
like a fish, but she finally managed to stutter,
"What...what..what?"


Jackson tried to gather his thoughts for a whole several alert
pings. His head was beginning to hurt from the strain of the CPU,
and he was painfully aware that several goals were slowly
creeping higher in his priority list. He looked up to meet the
eyes of the two girls.
"Look, I've had...the most hellish few days I can ever remember,"
he admitted, "I've just about fried my brain by keeping it
running too hot for the past few days, because there's just too
many tasks to get done. I've got another rough patch coming up,
so right now, in this brief bit of quiet before the storm, I'd
really like to do something that will let me relax and forget
about all the shit that has come before and is coming up." He
shrugged, "I meant what I said earlier. You two are my closest
and best friends here, and I'm really glad we still have that,"
he raised his eyebrows to make it a question, and was relieved
when both girls nodded. "I like having you for friends, that
would be true even if you both weren't as good in bed as you are.
I mean...damnit I'm normally smoother than this..." The sound of
gears grinding in his head was makinh it ache. *The chip doesn't
even have fucking gears,* he mentally grumbled, rubbing his
temples.
"Aw, honey," Cynthia said sympathetically, standing and rounding
the table to give him a hug. She took his hand and pulled him up
from his seat, turning and moving toward the door.
"Come on," she said over her shoulder, and Samantha rose with a
confused look.
"Where...what are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm gonna help this fuckin' idiot relax," Cynthia replied with a
smirk, "and you're going to help me."


***


Cynthia's room wasn't far from the mess hall, within easy access
of the hangar. As a "scrub", one of the valuable mechanics on the
Orbital, she had the luxury of a private room. Jackson smiled
wearily as he stepped inside. Though it was slightly cramped, a
single large room and adjoining bathroom, Cynthia had made it her
own. Small gears and wires, twisted into pieces of art, decorated
the walls, and hand-made blankets and quilts lined anything that
could be used as a bed or seat. The entire effect was one of
instant comfort and coziness, an effect that Cynthia herself had
on Jackson. Samantha looked around the room curiously as Cynthia
pulled Jackson towards her strange bed that sat in the corner,
made up of a pile of layered blankets and pillows as high as her
waist.


"This place is...really nice," Samantha sounded surprised,
"comfortable."
"What better place to comfort someone?" Cynthia untied the
fastenings on her rough mechanics jacket, shrugging it off and
tossing it in a corner. She always seemed at ease, but Jackson
noticed she was a little more herself when she was in her room.
"Um...about that..." Samantha was blushing, looking down at her
feet.
"You don't have to do this, Sam," Jackson watched her face
carefully, looking for signs of hesitation. It didn't matter how
helpful his CPU could've been in convincing her; if she wasn't
willing to do this, he had no desire to force her.
"No," Samantha seemed startled, "no, that's not it at all, I
really do, it's just I...I don't know how."


Jackson shot a look at Cynthia, hoping she wouldn't make fun of
Samantha's embarrassment, but the mechanic was looking at her
kindly, almost affectionately.
"It's not so hard," Cynthia smiled, reaching out and hooking a
hand around Samantha's neck. Samantha blushed harder, but Cynthia
gently steered her towards the bed where Jackson was sitting, "do
you like kissing our jerk of a boy here?"
"Yes," Samantha answered hesitantly, and Cynthia gently pushed
Samantha's head forward to meet Jackson's lips. Jackson held the
moment in his mind as the kiss deepened. It felt like so long
since he had touched her, touched either of them, and he wanted
to savor the sensation of every moment. Samantha's kiss tasted
like strawberries, and her tongue darted playfully across his
lips. He ran his fingers through her bright red curls as he lay
back on the bed, pulling her with him.


"Good," he heard Cynthia say approvingly. As if encouraged by the
other girl's approval, Samantha straddled Jackson, sitting on his
upper stomach and bending down to keep on kissing him.
"Now," Cynthia murmured, and Jackson vaguely registered the sound
of clothing hitting the floor, "we'll see if you're a good enough
kisser to keep his attention during what I'm about to do."
*She is a very good kisser,* Jackson mused, as Samantha gently
tugged at his lower lip with her teeth, *but I have an idea about
what Cynthia is going to do...* As if on cue Cynthia's fingers
deftly unfastened his pants with a practiced ease. Samantha broke
the kiss, panting, to turn and watch as Cynthia pulled his pants
off and threw them into the growing stack of clothes by the bed.
"You're wearing too much," Cynthia said. Samantha was blocking
Jackson's view of her face, but whatever expression Cynthia was
wearing must've been enough to allay Samantha's reservations.


Samantha slowly slipped her shirt over her head just as Cynthia
wrapped warm nimble fingers around Jackson's shaft. The
combination of Cynthia's fingers and the sight of Samantha's
breasts dropping free was enough to make Jackson's hips
involuntarily buck, and Samantha giggled she almost fell off of
him. He couldn't see what Cynthia was doing, which made each
touch unexpected. Instead he was treated to Samantha's large
boobs hanging over his face as she leaned down again to pull his
shirt off. He didn't mind in the slightest. Her
strawberry-flavored kisses resumed again, keeping his attention
as she made complicated motions to remove her own pants.


Sudden warmth and wetness around the head of his member informed
him that Cynthia had started using her tongue, and Jackson dug
his nails into Samantha's naked back at the feeling. Samantha was
rocking her hips back and forth, grinding her sex against his
stomach while she kissed him and clearly enjoying his nails. He
could feel how wet she was growing, and the heat of her cunt
pressed against his body felt almost as good as Cynthia's tongue,
which was sliding up and down his shaft at a steady, maddening
pace.
"God," Samantha broke the kiss again with a gasp, turning to look
back at Cynthia, "I want him," she panted, "I need it, please?"
"Mmm I can see what you see in this one Jackson," Cynthia purred,
"she begs so prettily."


Samantha squeaked as Cynthia's arms wrapped around her, squeezing
her generous breasts and then yanking her backward onto the bed.
Jackson leaned forward as Cynthia stood, both looking down at the
naked woman as she blushed furiously. Jackson let his gaze travel
back and forth between the two of them, appreciating the
uniqueness of their bodies. Cynthia's breasts were quite small
compared to Samantha's, but her body was harder, rougher. The
smudges of oil and dirt made patterns on Cynthia's skin that
showed exactly where the lines of her clothes had been, and where
there was no dirt her freckles showed clearly, speckling her
cheeks and tiny breasts. Samantha's mound was smooth, while
Cynthia had a patch of flame-red hair between her legs.
*Like night and day, these two,* Jackson mused, *so how are they
both so hot?*
"I'm feeling very self-conscious right now," Samantha murmured
under their stares.
"Jackson, for god's sake fuck the poor thing before she bursts
into flames," Cynthia laughed, hopping lightly up onto the bed.
She straddled Samantha, scooting back so that her pussy was
rubbing against the other girl's mound and leaning forward.
"Is this alright?" Jackson could hear Cynthia murmur, and the
girl beneath her nodded.


Samantha squirmed as soon as Jackson touched her, sliding a
finger up and down across her slit. Cynthia's small ass moved in
the air as she rubbed her clit against the her, and for a moment
Jackson was mesmerized at the sight of the two perfect pussies so
close together, both pink and wet and inviting. The scent of
their juices mingled and combined into a heady aroma that sent
shocks of lust through him even as he looked.
"Samantha's too embarrassed to say it," Cynthia grinned over her
shoulder, "but she would very much like your cock inside of her
now." Her words snapped Jackson out of his trance, and without
further hesitation he positioned his member at Samantha's opening
and thrust inside. Samantha threw her head back on the bed and
gave a long moan, cut off almost instantly by Cynthia's tongue.
The sight of Cynthia kissing her made Jackson so hard it almost
hurt, and he struggled to keep a steady pace as he slammed into
Samantha over and over again. Even through the kiss he could hear
her moaning, and the sound drove him to push into her even
harder.


Jackson pulled out completely, moving his hips so that when he
next thrust forward his cock slid inside of Cynthia's waiting
cunt. His breath was coming out ragged as he thrust faster and
faster, first slamming into Cynthia then switching back to
Samantha. Even their pussies were different, gripping his member
in different ways, and he couldn't tell which he liked more. He
was already feeling the orgasm building in him when Cynthia came,
her sex clamping down and quivering around his length as her
whole body shook. Samantha murmured something in the other girl's
ear, and whatever it was it made Cynthia cum even harder. The
tightness around him was bringing him close, and without thinking
he pulled his member out and slid it between the bodies of the
two girls.


Both of them obligingly rubbed against him, sliding their mounds
and clits over his wet cock. The stimulation was enough to send
Jackson over the edge, moaning as he came. Neither girl stopped
their rocking grinding, and the sticky wet contact made his
orgasm last longer than any he could ever remember. He grabbed
Cynthia's ass and Samantha's thigh as he shot his load between
their bodies, his mind blanking out at the pleasure.


Jackson leaned back with a sigh, catching his breath, as Cynthia
sit up. Samantha's hips were still rocking as if against her
will, and a slight whimper escaped her lips.
"Oh you poor thing!" Cynthia murmured, "we had all the fun and
left you frustrated! Let me help you with that." Jackson watched
with a smile as Cynthia moved downward, burying her face between
Samantha's legs. If Samantha had any more reservations they were
gone now; she reached down to run her fingers through the other
girl's hair as Cynthia worked her magic with her tongue.


Jackson's eyes drooped, and he yawned. Even as he enjoyed the
sight of his two girls playing with each other, the CPU in his
head flipped through his goals without being directed. Goal 72999
was selected and locked in. Jackson was surprised, but
shrugged...it *had* been nearly 48 hours since he had last slept.
He settled back as Samantha started moaning again, watching the
pair with a smile. Cynthia had started to play with herself as
she ate Samantha out, Jackson's cum dripping off of her stomach
to land on her wrist as her fingers slowly slid in and out of her
own pussy. With the explicit scene in front of him, Jackson
closed his eyes...


 ***


Jackson was told that he slept differently than other people, the
process more akin to defragging a computer than typical sleep. He
didn't really know how it compared, but he knew he felt refreshed
in every way after sleeping. It felt like only an instant later
that he opened his eyes, mind fresh and sharp. Cynthia was asleep
on his right, her red hair mussed and spread over his shoulder.
Samantha lay on his left, awake, dragging a finger back and forth
across his chest and looking pensive.
"Something wrong?" He asked quietly, taking advantage of the
brief moments he could focus on everything around him as he
mentally flicked through his tasks.
"That was...a lot nicer than I thought it would be," she replied
thoughtfully, "I thought it was going to be all nasty and kinky
and a little gross but it was...I dunno, more tender. She's
sweet," she nodded at the sleeping girl on his other arm.
"I think so too," Jackson replied. Goal 11125 clicked into place,
and Jackson sighed when the alert ping reminded him to breath.
"I think I like this. It's better than with Aaron. The
co-worker," she clarified at Jackson's questioning glance.
"You don't have to give him up you know," Jackson assured her, "I
was serious about that. We don't have to be monogamous."
"I just...I think I want to do this all the time," Samantha said
carefully, "Just the three of us. Not monogamous
but...tri-nogamous."
"I think I would like that too," Jackson smiled, sitting up. It
was what the CPU told him to say, but happily it was also the
truth, "we should talk about it, the three of us."
"Where are you going?"
"I have to save my squadmates."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" The offer was made without
hesitation or reluctance, and Jackson smiled at her.
"As a matter of fact, there is."


***


The conference room was small, but even so the empty seats were
clearly gnawing at his squadmates' minds. They all sat at one
end, Jackson at the head of the table, Missy, Aimee and Li on his
left, Cynthia and Samantha on his right.
"I should start by letting you all know that what I'm going to
propose is probably stupid and definitely dangerous," Jackson
didn't mince words. "You two," he indicated Cynthia and Samantha,
"could lose your jobs. The four of us," he indicated his
squadmates, "could be killed."
"We're going down to rescue them," Missy murmured. Jackson was
gratified to see the hope spring so instantly into her eyes. *One
recruit accounted for already,* he thought.
"We are. There's more to it than that, but yes, we're getting
them back."
"Jackson, Missy," Aimee began, awkwardly, "you know we want to
get them back too, but even Captain Appet won't let us go, let
alone the people we actually need clearance from."
"No, they wouldn't," Jackson agreed, "which is why we're not
going to clear it."


Before the protests or arguments could start, Jackson had pulled
displays up on the screens in the table, historical data from
planetary runs.
"Do you know why we use a complicated systems of a satellite and
drones to run planetaries, instead of just flying through with
cruisers?" He asked.
"Drones are easier to replace than human life," Li responded, but
Jackson shook his head,
"If they were worried about human life we would've come up to an
alternative to planetary runs altogether. No, the difference is
the fuel. Cruisers burn jet fuel, and satflyers use hover
thrusters."
His squadmates gave him blank looks, and he forced himself to
hold back and keep calm. He sometimes forgot how slowly normal
brains were at following a path, sometimes you had to spell it
out for them.
"Back when we used cruisers for planetary runs, according to the
records, it took an average of five minutes before winged
opposition engaged them. Ever since switching to satflyers, the
fastest an air team has been attacked is fifty minutes," he
selected numbers, pulling them to the forefront so that his
squaddies could follow his train of thought, "this is true even
though the satflyers are bigger, slower, and less armed."


There were still blank looks, and Jackson clenched his fist.
*Don't lose your temper, the subgoal is to get them on your
side,* he cautioned himself.
"However the Terrans find our aircrews, it's not by sight or
radar," he patiently explained, "it's by the fuel traces somehow,
or maybe the noise."
"That seems like a really inefficient way of finding us. Why
wouldn't they just use radar?" Aimee asked
"I don't know, but it's clear that they don't. The air team can
identify Terran movement on the ground, but on every single
planetary that encountered resistance," another data set flitted
up onto the screens, "the Terrans on the ground attacked out of
sync with their aerial units. As if they have to find the ground
team and the air team independently. They can't see us as well as
we can see them, that's the only answer that makes sense.
Everyone assumes the Terrans have better technology, but what if
it's not *better*, it's just *different*?"
The room was silent at the suggestion, as his squadmates pondered
the question.
"Even if that were the case," Li said slowly, "and that's a big
fuckin' 'if', by the way...how does that help us get our team off
the ground?"
Jackson grinned. He was rather proud of this part. "We land on
the planet in cruisers."


*Blank looks again...* Jackson mentally sighed.
"Right, from step one then..." He ran through the plan once more
in his head, fine tuning it on the spot before he presented it to
his squadmates.
"Cynthia fuels and preps four heavy cruisers. Samantha clears
them for takeoff," he turned to them, "If you get into hot water
later, you can say I manipulated you into doing it. It's on my
record that I'm augmented, they'll believe you."
"What, you be manipulative to get what you want? Nooo..." Cynthia
grinned, absentmindedly rubbing her shoulder where Samantha had
left a small bite mark.
"Wait, Jackson you're augmented?" Li looked shocked, but Samantha
interrupted.
"We'll do it, for you Jackson." She may have been hesitant about
their relationship at first, but Jackson appreciated her loyalty
now that she was committed to him. That was another difference
between her and Cynthia; once Samantha decided she was on your
side, nothing would get in her way to help you. *Night and day,*
he thought affectionately, before re-launching into his
explanation.
"The four of us squaddies will boost towards the planet in the
heavy cruisers. The Orbital might yell at us, but they won't
shoot us down. As soon as we hit the fog, we cut engines."
"That's insane," Aimee looked incredulous, but Jackson powered
through,


"By my calculations, we turn the engines back on at about halfway
between the fog and the ground and hit the thrusters full blast,
pointed down. The fuel vapors won't kick up until we're past the
treeline, whatever tech they're using to detect fuel vapors can't
find them beneath the treeline. I know this," he held up a hand
to stop the interruption he knew was coming, "because the drones
use jet fuel, just like the cruisers, and we've never had a
planetary in which the Terrans found the drones. Not one. Now,
even with the cruisers at full thrust we'll hit the ground pretty
hard, but from there we'll be in position to mount a rescue, well
supplied and with the element of surprise on our side. The heavy
cruisers can accommodate a second passenger, so we'll have enough
space to get everyone back off the planet, with a little
squeezing. We head back to the orbital at full speed, and a heavy
cruiser at top speed can outrun anything the Terrans have ever
thrown at us in the past."


Jackson stopped, and waited for the objections. He himself had a
couple, but he wasn't going to volunteer the information while
the others were still on the fence.
"I'm in," Missy stated flatly, as he'd known she would.
"That's...a really good plan, Jackson," Aimee sounded impressed,
"why don't we take that plan to the General? Maybe, if he heard
how well you've thought it out, he would okay the mission?"
Jackson shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"I...don't think that's a good idea," he said. The others looked
at him curiously. Jackson had to think about it for a few
moments, a few breathing reminders pinged by as he put his words
in order. The thought had occurred to him as soon as he'd woken
up, his freshly defragged mind making the leaps necessary. Now he
had to explain it to normal brains.


"The air team wasn't being attacked when it went down. Terran
forces didn't attack the ground pod either," he tried laying out
his thoughts sequentially, "but we both lost power. There's no
common technological link between the two, there's no simple
explanation for why they would both fail on the same mission. At
least, no explanation for an accidental error."
"Are you saying someone sabotaged the planetary?" Missy's eyes
were burning, and Jackson was startled at how much venom was in
her voice.
"Not only that, but someone in the Academy. No one on the ground
would risk their own lives like that-"
"And one of us wouldn't do that to our squaddies," Aimee
interjected,
"-right, that too. So assuming someone on the orbital wanted some
or all of us to die on this mission, who is able to make that
happen?"
"Are...are you saying it was one of the scrubs?" Aimee asked
uncertainly. Jackson was about to sigh again when Missy's voice,
cold and quiet, cut him off.


"General Auspus," she said, her voice iced with rage. Jackson
nodded,
"General Auspus. He had no logical reason for sending us down in
the first place, it surprised everyone, Captain Appet included.
The sabotage must've been a just-in-case measure. The only
problem is that I have no clue why he would want anyone on our
squad dead. We're good students, and if he didn't want us here he
could just expel us-"
"We saw him." Missy's voice was still cold, but there was a
dullness there, like an ache in the depths of it, that sent
shivers down Jackson's spine.
"We saw him, Preston and I did, in a conference room. He was
using some kind of tool that was covering him in purple sparks.
He told us if we told anyone he would expel us." Tears streamed
down Missy's face, and Jackson had no clue how to respond to what
she was saying. Instead he turned to the scrubs, who were
watching the proceedings silently with wide eyes.
"Two of us knowing this almost got all of us killed," he said
quietly, but earnestly. Cynthia nodded her understanding, but
Samantha looked confused. "Please, for your own safety, don't
ever tell anyone about this," Jackson clarified. Samantha's eyes
widened even further, but she nodded her understanding.


"We'll use your plan then," Li awkwardly patted Missy on the
shoulder, and the others murmured agreement.
"Good. Let's get some gear together and plan on taking off early
tomorrow morning," Jackson stood.
"Even after we rescue them, won't we be back in the same
position?" Aimee asked tentatively, "won't General Auspus still
want to silence us? It would probably be good to have a plan to
not die after we rescue everyone."
Jackson mentally scrolled down to that very goal, 48657,
increasing its priority.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said grimly.