Distress Call, Part 2

“Jet,” I said. “I hate to ask, but -”

“Right there with you,” Jet said. He was already over to the terminal and logging in.

Dee let me download a copy of her modified Raid sim as a precaution. Also to tinker with, if I had time, I suppose. Now proving precognizant on her part. Now there's a scary thought.

“They're one man down, she said,” I told him. “A 'verse' slot, whatever that means. I can't give you much more of a situation report than that. She seemed distracted.”

“Got it,” Jet replied. The graphics were loading up on the screen, clean and vibrant. The UI made zero sense to me. Gaming had never been my thing; if I'd heard correctly, this was one of the most complex games out there.

“I know you're kind of rusty, but I'm hoping -”

Jet cracked his knuckles and threw me an apologetic glance. “Not as rusty as you might expect.”

I sighed dramatically and spun around. “Can I trust anyone around here? Really?” I threw myself down on the bed in mock tantrum. “You're lucky it's paying off now.”

“I guess so,” Jet said. “Now I'm going to need to zone in. The sim has had serious upgrades and I need to catch up. Fast.”

I grumbled under my breath and went into the guest room. Dee had assured me that the private quarters were locked down for the duration. So presumably the CSO wouldn't be barging in here. If I could trust her. I wanted to trust her. I wanted her to be on my side, on Persephone's side. Us against the CSO.

There was a lot of wishful thinking going on here. I really wondered what kind of new hell I'd be in for when this was all over.