Burning Suns: Conflagration (Book One) by Wylie Lisa

Author:Wylie, Lisa [Wylie, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-fi novel based upon the game universe Burning Suns.
Publisher: SunTzuGames
Published: 2015-11-02T23:00:00+00:00

JENNIFER

Berlin, Earth, Modeus System, Assembly Space

Jennifer came to slowly, lying flat on her back on something hard, cold, and lumpy. Her left shoulder throbbed with pain in synch with the dull pounding in the back of her skull.

“About time you came round,” a vaguely familiar voice observed from the other side of the room. “I was getting a little worried.”

Jen opened her eyes gingerly, squinting against the glare of the fluorescent lighting. Tipping her head towards the voice, she made out a fuzzy blob of black topped with purple. As her vision cleared a little more, she let out a relieved sigh. “Wai-Mei,” she identified her companion, voice rasping against her dry throat.

“The one and only.” The thief loomed above her momentarily, then settled to perch on the side of the bunk. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hammered shit,” Jen confessed.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I’m a little fuzzy on the details.” She rubbed at her eyes, causing the ache in her shoulder to flare. “Ugh. Did I take a round?”

“Yeah. Luckily, it was just a concussion round,” Wai-Mei explained with a nod. “Dropped you like a sack of potatoes. And you hit your head pretty hard on the way down; the attending medical tech thought you might have cracked your skull.”

Jen reached reflexively for the back of her head, freezing as the recollection of Thud’s death hit her square behind the eyes. “Fuck,” she whispered as she remembered the puff of red as the bullet had burst from his skull, relived the sensation of his warm, thick blood splattering all over her.

Nausea swept through her. She sat up, but the movement made the room spin crazily, redoubling the sick sensation. She clapped her hand to her mouth as her stomach heaved. “Easy,” Wai-Mei soothed, catching her round the shoulders. Another spasm gripped her, and this time she vomited with an explosive cough. Wai-Mei braced her as a third heave ensued, but there was nothing to bring up except bile, the acrid, caustic fluid burning her throat and mouth as she coughed and spat to try and clear it.

“I’ll go get the medic,” Wai-Mei offered, getting to her feet.

“No,” Jen gasped between coughs. “It’s OK. Just… is there any water?”

Wai-Mei crossed the cell to the toilet stall, returning with two paper cups and some toilet roll. She handed Jen the cups, one full, one empty. “Here. Rinse first.”

Jen sloshed a gulp of water round her mouth, then spat it into the empty cup. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” The thief huffed a concerned sigh. “You might really have a concussion. They should check you out properly.”

“They will,” Jen predicted dryly. “Won’t want me dying in custody—that’d look bad on the stats.”

Wai-Mei chuckled. “Well, your sense of humour’s intact.” Her smile faded, and she met Jen’s gaze sympathetically. “I’m sorry about Jones,” she offered. “He seemed like a nice guy, and I can tell you were close.”

Tears stung Jen’s eyes, and she bit her lip to force down the impulse to give in to her sudden, wrenching grief.

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