by Ruby Dixon
I like the idea. There’s something about this old ship that eats at my mind, and I don’t want to leave it until I can get more done. Plus, the thought of being here with Farli instead of on the ship, where it feels like all eyes are paying attention to where we sleep? “Let’s do it.”
Her eyes light up with pleasure, and I realize I’ve said the right thing. This is what she wants, too. “Rukh brought back some fresh meat, and I still have some of it. It will not take long to make a fire.”
So she can cook it? If this is my last night with her, on this planet, I want to try how she’d eat it. “I can do raw.”
“Are you certain?”
“I’m sure I’ve eaten worse on a few low-end space stations. I want to enjoy it like you do.” I pull her close to me and press a kiss to her forehead. “Live like you do, even if just for a night.”
“And tomorrow?” she asks in a faint voice.
I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I just want to think about today. I touch her chin, tilting her head up so I can gaze into her luminous blue eyes. She’s different from anyone else I’ve ever met, and it’s strange how little time it’s taken for us to become so close. I’m obsessed with her. I…don’t know what I’m going to do if she doesn’t go with me. “Farli—”
She throws her arms around me and kisses me, silencing my words. Fair enough. I slick my tongue against hers and devour the little moans she makes as our kiss grows deeper, more intense, more erotically charged. I love the rub of her lips against mine, the accidental scrape of our teeth as we grow too enthusiastic. Even when we kiss badly, it’s still keffing amazing. I need this—and I need her—like I need air. I wrap my hand around her thick, wild hair, pinning her against me as lust drives through my body. It’s not enough to claim her mouth; I need more and—
Someone coughs behind us.
Grr. I pull my mouth from Farli’s soft one reluctantly and glare over at Trakan. “What?”
He gives us a dopey grin as he saunters past, a lumpy sack slung over his shoulder. “Don’t mind me. Don’t wanna interrupt snuggle time. I’ll just be heading back to my chambers.”
I put a hand out and flick my fingers toward him. “Let me see what’s in the bag, first.”
Trakan sighs heavily, as if I’m being completely unreasonable. He holds the bag out and gives me a cross glare, which I ignore.
“Come on,” I tell him, indicating he should head out. “Time for you to go back to the ship.”
“You staying out here?” He frowns. “You’re not going to take anything while I’m gone, are you?” My glare silences him. “Right. Because you’re so noble and brave. Big hero of the savage people. Go you. Can I have my damned bag back now?”
I pick through it, but it’s small, useless junk and nothing worth worrying over. Rusted utensils and little mementos of an old age that aren’t worth anything to anyone except collectors. I hand back the bag, but when he reaches for it, I prompt him, “And where did you find this stuff if anyone asks?”
“Salvaged it off a wreck floating in space. Don’t know the coordinates. Pretty sure it flew into the nearest gas giant. Luckily I managed to get there just in time.” He gives me a smirk. “Will that do?”
“Yeah.” I release the bag. “Buy something nice for your girl back at the station.”
His sneaky expression softens, and a genuine smile creases his face in what feels like the first time. “Blantah? Yeah, she deserves something nice. Gonna buy her something shiny and watch her eyes light up. That’s the best thing, you know? Making your girl happy.” He glances back behind me. Farli’s moved off to one side and is busy making a fire. She crouches low, blowing on a tiny flame, and her features are lit up by the orange flickers. Any other girl would look ghoulish, but Farli just looks…well, she looks keffing perfect.
But then, she’s always perfect in my eyes.
“She’s a good girl and deserves better than a long-haul crewman,” Trakan continues, and for a moment, I think he’s talking about Farli. I narrow my eyes at him only to realize he’s still got that faraway look on his face, thinking about his lover. “Which is why,” he says, “I’m quitting.”
I’m surprised to hear this. We’ve all been crew on the Lady for years now, and even though we’re not close, Trakan’s a fixture in my life. “You are?”
He nods. “Gonna give her the life she deserves, you know? Settle down, have a few kids, get a place. Talked to a buddy of mine and we’re going to do local deliveries. Planet hops in the same system. Not much of a stretch for a navigator, but I’ll be home more. This haul’s my last one.” He glances back at Farli again and then over to me. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”
Uh oh. “Is it going to piss me off?”
Trakan chuckles. “Nah, man. Just gonna tell you that when you find the right girl, don’t let her get away. This job’s just a job, you know? The moment I leave, Chatav’ll have me replaced and won’t give it a second thought. Won’t think about it again. Niri won’t give a shit. I know you won’t care. It’s a job, but it’s not a home. My home’s with my girl. I’m a big kef-up a lot of the time, but I know that me being home is going to make her happiest, and that’s what I’m going to do. If you like the barbarian girl, let her know. That’s all I’m saying. We’re not gonna be here for much longer, and regrets are a shitty thing to sleep with at night.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly. I think he means well, but the advice isn’t necessary. I know I want Farli with me. I just have to convince her that she needs to leave with The Tranquil Lady when I do. And tonight, I need to work hard on convincing her. I don’t know what I’m going to say, only that I have no choice. Leaving her isn’t an option. She’s got to come with me. I need her.
“Yeah, well, it’s just good advice, you know? I could crude it up, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t listen.” The smirk returns to his face, and he slings the bag over his shoulder. “Well, I’m heading out. I’ll let Chatav know you’re hanging out here tonight. Wouldn’t want you to be left behind.” He leaves.
And I’m frozen on the spot.
His words send a bolt of cold fear through my gut. Left. Behind.
12
FARLI
“Mardok? What is it?”
He stands frozen in the doorway, a bleak look in his eyes. I recognize that look. He’s gone to the dark place in his mind. I move to his side and gently touch his arm, letting him know I am here.
Mardok jerks in surprise, seeming to come back to himself. He shudders and then rubs his arm. “Sorry.”
“All is well,” I say softly. “Come sit by the fire.”
He hesitates, glancing out at the moonlit snow, where Trakan is crossing over to the waiting Lady. The other ship is lit up with all kinds of glowing lights of different colors and seems inviting. In contrast, the Elders’ Cave is dark and shadowy, the only light the fire I have made. Is it the dark that bothers him? Or is it the safety that the other ship represents?
I have to ask. “Do you wish to go back to your house on the ship? Shall I put the fire out?”
For a moment, he looks torn. Then he slowly shakes his head. “No. I’m good. I just have to remind myself they won’t leave me. They can’t.” But he still hesitates before pushing away from the door and moving toward the fire.
I follow him, torn between not wanting to pry and needing to know the truth. If I am to help him, I must know what bothers him. He drops to the floor by the fire, crossing his legs under him and warming his hands. I move to his side, but instead of sitting, I lean against his back, drape my arms around him, and hug him from behind. I want him to know I am here.
Mardok touches my arm and then rubs it in slow, idle motions. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my mind gets away from me.”
“What is it that brings the darkness to your eyes?” I ask him. “Is it something here? On this planet?”
His hand tightens on my arm and then releases. It is almost as if he has to force himself to relax. “It’s not something we sh
ould talk about.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s in my past, and I need to get over it.” His voice is sour. He stares into the fire, ignoring me. “It’s not something I’m proud of, and you wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
“I understand that you’re hurting,” I say gently, and press a kiss to his ear. “And that perhaps talking about it will make it better or help me to understand why you struggle.” I rub my nose against the bristle of short hair on his scalp, loving the scent of him and aching for him at the same time. “But if you do not want to speak of it, I will not force you.”
He sighs heavily and focuses on the small fire for so long that I worry about him. “I’ve never told anyone…it’s difficult.” He rubs his mouth. “All anyone knows is that I left the military with an honorable discharge.”
“And that is…bad?” I do not know what this is, but it clearly distresses him.
“Not bad. Just not the truth. The truth is too hard to talk about.”
“But the truth is what makes your heart hurt.”
He squeezes my arm again. “Yeah.”
“Then tell me about it,” I encourage him. “Help me understand.” I want to know why he is so determined not to stay on my planet. I love it here, and it hurts me that he cannot see its beauty.
Mardok is silent for a long moment again. I wait patiently, because I can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He is nervous and unhappy, and this is taking all that he has just to talk about it. I will not push. If he is not ready, he is not ready.
“I don’t want you to hate me, Farli.”
“I could never hate you.” The thought is absurd. I press another kiss to his ear and hug him tighter. “Do you hear my khui singing to you? It knows how much I care for you. It knows how strong my love is. That is why it sings. The moment I met you, I knew you were the one for me. Whatever you tell me will not change that.”
“I killed people,” he says in a curiously flat voice. “When I was in the military, I killed people and I got them killed.”
I go very still, because this is not what I expected. Hunters kill prey, and they do it because they must eat. “Were you hungry? Is that why you killed?”
He jerks, startled. A horrified laugh escapes him. “Gods, no. I didn’t kill them to eat them, Farli. I killed them because they were the enemy. Or I thought they were the enemy.”
“Because you were military,” I say, trying to piece this together. My mind cannot comprehend killing a tribesmate, much less hunting them.
“It’s complicated and probably very hard to explain to someone who doesn’t know what war is.” His sigh is heavy. “I envy you that. But let me try to explain so you can understand. So…let’s say one of your brothers decides he is going to make his own cave. He does not want to follow Vektal’s leadership anymore, and he takes half of the tribe with him. What would Vektal do?”
I think for a moment. “He would be sad that the tribe is not happy and work harder to ensure the rest of our people are pleased with his leadership. It is not a fun job to be leader. He is responsible for all of us, and it weighs heavy on his heart.”
“Right. Now let’s say that he does not want the others to leave and will do whatever he can to force them to stay. That is what war is. People disagree and they get so angry at each other that it becomes a fight that ends in bloodshed.”
I gasp. “Killing?”
“Killing, yes.”
“That sounds horrible!”
“It is horrible. No one likes war, except for the people that don’t have to experience it first hand. The chiefs make the decisions, but it is the hunters that must carry them out. And the tribes are not just ten or twenty hunters, but hundreds. Thousands. More hunters than you can possibly imagine, all fighting each other, not because they want to, but because their chiefs make them.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “This sounds like a terrible thing to do.” I cannot imagine a chief that does not put the well-being of his people first. “If they want to leave, why does he not let them?”
“A variety of reasons.” He sounds tired, my mate. Tired and heartsick. “Sometimes it is pride. Sometimes it is not that people wish to leave, but a different reason. Maybe they look different or believe different things. Maybe they are on land that a chief wants for himself. Maybe—”
“This is awful,” I tell him, stunned. “Attacking people because they look different? Killing them?”
“Or worse.”
I cannot imagine worse, but judging from his grave face, there must be. I do not want to hear more of this, and yet I told him to confide in me, so I must listen. “And your chief made you hurt people? Kill people?” My poor Mardok.
He nods. “I didn’t join the military because I believed in my chief’s cause, though. It was just…well, a way out. My mother died with a huge pile of debt, and she wasn’t married to my father. They were long separated, so due to the law, it passed on to me. I was just a kid, fresh out of mandatory schooling when I got hit with that. The only way I could pay it off was to enlist in the military, which was offering to clear personal debts for soldiers that took on high-risk positions. When you’re young, you think you’re invincible, so I signed up. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” His expression grows distant. “There were things I liked about the military. Mostly the camaraderie and sense of brotherhood. I didn’t have siblings, so it was nice to be part of something bigger. To feel like you belonged. And I liked the physical exercises and the opportunity to work with my hands. It was just…everything else.”
I remain quiet, waiting to see if he continues talking.
“I was in for a few years. Managed to get by all right. Had my friends, my debts were paid, and if I didn’t always like the jobs I was assigned, they didn’t bother me much. Then war broke out on a colony planet—Uzocar IV. The local militia was attacking and killing everyone from Homeworld. My regiment was sent to secure the situation. That’s what we did, you know? We were the high-risk group, which meant we got sent in on the dangerous shit. And most of the time, we were okay with that because our pay scale was a lot higher. This time…” He shudders.
I rub his back soothingly. Some of the things he mentions—‘pay’ and ‘militia’—do not make sense to me, but I do not interrupt. He needs to get this out of his head, and I do not want to distract.
“By this time I was squad leader of my group, which meant that I was in charge. Kind of like a chief of a hunting party, I suppose. And right after I became leader, we received a mission. A risky one. Our instructions were to land outside of one of the villages, attempt to subdue the rebels, and use it as an example to the other villagers that things could be solved peaceably.” He laughs, and the sound is hard, bitter. “Except it didn’t work out that way at all. They were waiting for us. Maybe they had some sort of scanner that could pick up the frequency of our ship, or maybe they just managed to eyeball it, even though we landed a good day’s hike from their village. Whatever it was, the moment we set foot on the soil, they attacked. I ordered my men to take cover anywhere they could—bushes, trees, whatever. It was a bad call. I guess I was so caught up in the fact that we needed to do this mission that I didn’t stop to think about what I was sending us into. Uzocar’s not a very green planet. It’s scrubby at best, and there weren’t many places to hide. Within moments, half my men were slaughtered. Guys I laughed with, joked with, knew about their families. Gone in a flash of laser fire. Just…gone.” He sucks in a ragged breath. “I told the rest of them to retreat, to race back to the ship and we’d get the kef out of there. Abort mission. Except…the ship that sent us? The pilot got scared and retreated. Just headed back into space to the transport ship and left us all on the surface to die.” He closes his eyes. “I see that just as clearly as yesterday. Just that awful, sick feeling when you see your only chance taking off the ground and leaving you behind. My men running for it, hoping that if they get to it in time, maybe they can catch that keffing coward of a pilo
t. Instead, they just got mowed down.” He rubs his face with a big hand. “My fault. I should have called an immediate retreat. I watched my men die right in front of me, knowing that I’d killed them with a bad call.”
“It was not your fault,” I say soothingly.
“Actually, it was.” Mardok’s voice is raw. “I made the call to land there. Then I told them to go back. Any other leader would have stuck with one decision, but I just sent them running. And I was the one that chose the pilot for the troop ship that day, even though I knew he was a coward. Funny thing, I put him in charge of piloting instead of our regular guy because he was a keffing coward and I didn’t want him to break lines and cause a problem on the ground.” His mouth pulls up in a hard, angry version of a smile. “Funny how a decision can haunt you like that.”
“What did you do?” I ask. “How did you escape?”
“I didn’t. Not really.” He pats his discolored side. “Our entire squad was mowed down. I had a hole blown through my middle and my arm sheared off. I think I also got struck in the head, but I don’t much remember that.” He touches his temple, and I see a small, silvery scar just below one of his horns. “They must have thought I was dead, because I woke up half-buried in the pile of bodies they’d left behind on the plains.”
I shiver, horrified.
“It was night. I remember that. I remember looking up at the stars and smelling the dead. There’s no smell quite like it. I remember lying there, too weak to move, stuck between the rotting corpses of my friends.” He closes his eyes and gives a small shake of his head. “Oddly enough, that wasn’t the worst part about it. I couldn’t move, but I could look up at the stars. And as I did, I saw the transport carrier overhead. They’d kept it low enough to be visible to the naked eye—I guess because of a change in maneuvers—and I remember staring up at it and feeling so abandoned. I’d been left to die.” He shudders again. “Took them three days to find me. Still not sure how I lived through it.” He meets my gaze and manages a small smile. “They patched me up and asked me if I wanted to continue my contract. I didn’t, though. I bailed out. Got a pension, and I had it set up as a trust for the families of the guys in my squad. Didn’t seem right that I take the money.”