BrokenSkinBrokenGrinSinkorSwimFindTheKeeperFindtheSeekerFindersKeepers, this is not my ship of souls nor my basin of rasins or my reason or my raison de-etre. This is not your
Mirror with which to see your soul in, this is not your
Glass eye
This is not yours to keep but a force of nature that you,
tameling,
cannot cow.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
Finn woke dreaming of betrayal again. Head from the pillow and into the hands. There’s my lad.
“What a fucking arrogant shiteshow this is. Fuck.”
Day twenty-three of being separated from his command, the man grimaced into the flat of his wrists. All halitosis and ill-will.
He reached for alcohol which he didn’t have, found the mouthwash instead. Used it for its intended purpose, then stretched.
“Horsetrader now fricking around with my command.”
Finn opened the news. Depressing stuff as always – he jolted it off, realised the subject, then grimly flickered it back on, and piped out a hamburg cheer.
“So the brigand will get to play war, then. Good for him.”
Haast stumbled through the shower cubicle door. He was always a clean man – but he’d never felt such a rush to sanitise himself before. There was much to clean – but no mere water would satiate this.
Revenge strums a separate string. Required different fluids. In the lieu of blood, he chose to drown himself in coffee.
“I am a major! I outrank him.”Finn echoed at the walls.
He stumbled out of the shower, towelling himself until the bristles on his face panged "enough", fumbling for uniform.
Crisp. Starched. Ironed. Smells of discipline; hopes and dreams. Of the old guard.
“Nothing more than a trumped-up two-bit parts trader... Where's my tie?”
His tie was transparently not there. It wasn't anywhere else, either. All of his ties had dematerialised. This irked Finn - he was usually rather attached to his ties. Now he was tieless, tired, yet anything but tongue-tied. Attempting to compensate, he buttoned everything on his body.
“You don't need a tie. Eins, zwei, drei, breathe, eins, zwei, drei, breathe. You're a major. You're the major. They are police officers. Not having a tie, is not a crime.”
And yet, he had no tie. Just as he had no command. Instead of the tie, he had the image of Gilger's face smirking down at him. First time the bastard ever smiled. The only smile Finn needed to remember.
The major sits down at his desk, scraping the seat over the hardfloor, and starts to compile his grim list.
1) I am Major Finn Haast. I am an employee of the Federal Republic.
2) I am fifty-eight years old.
3) I have no commendations for higher command.
4) I have no commendations for a shipborne command of my own.
5) I discovered the Marie Celeste.
6) And it was taken from me.
He slams his fist against the PTD, cracking the screen. “My God.”
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
Then the idea struck him. Furious and sudden. Vengeance was a punch. It would be so easy.
He had no loyalty anymore, to no agenda, to no cause. His house had abandoned his ambition and left him to stew in it. What Haast did next, he did from cold, furious, need.
On his datapad, he brought up the records of the emission signature recovered from the Illa, as clear as if it had signed its own name. It’d mean nothing to the colony news service, nothing to anyone but the MND and those who had possessed the foresight to run. Anonymised deep within the Neuraleaks site, it would take at least several hours for the Buro to triangulate the transmission to its source – by which time, Finn Haast would be already gone, living the high life.
Copy,
Paste.
Click.
He pulled on his jacket, more alive than he’d felt in aeons. Soul peeling out in a manure-eating grin. For the first time, he was dishing it out. “I hope the vacumn’s extra cold for you, Gilger, you bastard.” Finn vocalised, stuffing his kitbag.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
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