by Vi Voxley
The outer door to her quarters slid open and Kerven, the young Brion warrior who had escorted her to the bridge and guarded her ever since, stepped in, spear at the ready and body tense. Naima knew she was being needlessly melodramatic, summoning the poor boy like a genie.
On the other hand, her words were also true. Every time she took the bracelet off, Naima felt the teeth-clattering cold and the brightness of the lifestone scattered all over the galaxy washed over her. It wasn't a pleasant experience, just like Audrey had promised. At least so far Naima found the pain to be tolerable, even though the course adjustments had been frequent. Braen’s presence held her together at the seams. Keeping her sanity in check was another matter entirely.
She didn’t need any extra help in questioning the lucidity of her mind at this point.
She put the fact that she found herself dealing with the physical pain firmly down to the fact that her personal lifestone laid neatly in the pocket of her uniform pants, tucked in a box so Naima never touched it. So far, she'd miraculously managed to hide its existence from Braen. And felt monumentally guilty about it, too.
It was probably aiding in her mind being as frazzled as it was as well, both lying to Braen and being so close to the mystical stone.
The young warrior took one look at her and turned on his heels so fast it made Naima's head spin.
She pulled the folds of her sleeping gown more tightly around her, staring at the warrior's back and the hefty battle spear in his hand that Brions apparently never parted with.
"If I have a case of pillow face or a really bad hair day, just tell me," Naima told the guard. "No need to be rude. I'm not some hideous being."
"My apologies, Miss Jones," the guard said in the common tongue.
Naima was thankful for that courtesy, at least. Just a few years ago, Brions had been too stubborn to speak any of the artificial languages the Union used to communicate. It had taken some of their generals leading the way to change the trend.
"I meant no offense. You are a very beautiful woman," the warrior went on. "My general is a lucky man, but he would kill me just for saying that if he knew. The commander has forbid us to look at you when you are undressed. You are his gesha, after all."
Naima's gaze dropped to her bare legs, very visible from underneath the short gown, but she wouldn't have thought her clothing to be indecent. Apparently Brions didn't agree.
"That's a bit ridiculous, if you don't mind me saying," she said.
"Not at all," the warrior said without any hint of being insulted. "The bond between a gesha and a gerion is sacred and private. The commander demands nothing unusual. He wouldn't look upon my fated either unless it was an absolute necessity."
What a way to live.
"Can you turn on the lights in here?" Naima asked, choosing not to comment further, aware that she was a guest on a ship that lived by a wholly different set of rules. "I've tried to learn the controls, but apparently they dimmed down again when I fell asleep."
"Of course," the guard replied, rushing to type something into the console by the door.
Instantly, the lights in the room came on. It still left it relatively dark for Naima's liking, but it was such an upgrade from before that she barely cared.
"Thank you," she said, finally able to see her green dress uniform, neatly laid out on a sofa.
"So is this your job now? Babysitting me?" she asked, picking up the uniform and changing her clothes.
Kerven had been sort of on the backdrop of her existence ever since she set foot on the ship. However they had barely had any time to converse. In part, this was due to Kerven keeping to a respectable distance – clearly ordered by Braen. And the fact that Naima had been spending most of her time going through Brion archives and educating herself on the Fearless, what was known about the lifestone, as well as Brion culture made up for the other half of it.
Having spent plenty of time in cramped conditions on various research ships, she’d long ago lost most of the discomfort she might have felt when changing in a mixed gender setting.
"The commander has tasked me with your protection while he's attending other duties, yes," the warrior said.
"You can turn around," Naima said as she straightened her clothing, finally able to look at the man standing in front of her. "What do you mean, other duties? I wasn't aware I was one."
Kerven looked a little uncomfortable and Naima felt equally a little guilty. Brion culture was unlike anything else in the Galactic Union and she was putting the poor boy on the spot. Only in comparison to Braen could she call Kerven a boy, though. It was simply that Braen redefined her understanding of a man and no one else really came close.
She couldn't imagine what kind of rules applied to talking to the fated of the general. Naima didn't think Kerven joked when he'd said Braen would kill him for offering her a simple compliment.
Brions had a very odd sense of humor. Odd in how it was mostly lacking.
She had, however, noticed that most of the crew treated her like a highly respected, incredibly valuable… leper. No one dared come close to her or address her with anything other than messages from Braen, anyway.
The young warrior was still struggling for words. He reminded her of Braen, in a way. In a few years, the guard might come to resemble his general, but Naima doubted he'd ever be quite like him.
They had some similarities, though, like the deep blue eyes. Otherwise, Kerven looked like a spitting image of every other Brion warrior Naima had seen – built like a tank, tall like a skyscraper and stern as a statue.
"You are a Terran," Kerven finally offered. "I think I chose the wrong word. You wouldn't understand."
Hah. I guess it's a step up from Braen's "You have to understand".
"Try me," Naima said dryly.
Hearing her icy tone, the young warrior looked even more distressed. He was a strong man, that much was obvious to Naima, yet before her, the guard shuddered.
She knew it wasn't her that scared him so, it was the avatar of Braen, standing behind her, unseen but very much real. She didn't know every detail of Brion culture, but that much was clear. If the guard upset her, no matter who was to blame, it would be him that paid for it.
Like Braen had said, he wouldn't hurt a hair on Naima's head.
"I will try," Kerven promised, hesitant for a moment. "Yes, the general has a duty to you now, as you are his gesha–"
"That is still up for debate," Naima cut in.
Kerven, diplomatically, chose not to comment that.
"For Terrans, duty means something else," the guard explained. "It is a choice rather than something bestowed upon you. For Brions, duty is the same as destiny in many ways.
"The general is bound to you for life – no matter what you might say, Miss Jones, he is – and that means he will protect you, come what may. He didn't choose the bond, it chose him, but a gerion does choose what is best for his gesha. Always."
Well, when you put it like that, it's hard for me to stay mad, isn't it? Curse you alien hunks and your storybook conceptions of love. How am I supposed to resist that?
The answer came easily enough, though. It might have been in her best interest to have Braen around, but she didn’t think it was in his. She could never respond with the same kind of fervent, unshakable love that Braen already seemed to feel for her.
Or could she?
Naima wasn't used to promises of eternal bonds and frankly she found that it unnerved her a little. With every word that Kerven said, things that Braen had done started to make more sense to her.
Perhaps she was too used to Terran men who never experienced the world in the same way that Brions did. Gods alone knew that Isolde Fenner and all the other human geshas were happy beyond anything, and had remained that way after many years. And the generals seemed to be equally as overjoyed. Maybe things were different with these pairings?
Maybe they really could be equal…
The brides weren't just trinkets for their general gerio
ns. Unlike the way Naima’s parents’ marriage had worked, the wife’s job wasn’t simply to hold down the fort until the husband returned.
Isolde was the Terran ambassador on Briolina now, being bonded to the feared Diego Grothan giving her words serious weight. No one wanted to say no to the woman who could summon the Triumphant to their doorstep with one word, though Naima knew that it was Isolde’s sharp mind that kept the Brions at bay as much as it was her fearsome husband’s reputation.
Aria designed and maintained whole sections of harvest worlds after her gerion killed a hive mind that threatened the whole Galactic Union.
Leiya had gone from being a singing sensation on Briolina to intergalactic sweetheart, who possibly did more than the others combined, bringing people together at a time when the Union needed unity most.
Lana had built and now ran a private squadron of pilots from Briolina, Terra and any other world whose candidates passed her rigorous testing. They made up a first responders army that dealt with disasters others didn't even want to know about. Some said she'd saved more lives than her general husband had taken.
He disagreed fervently, of course.
All that forced Naima to conclude that being a gesha wasn't objectively that bad of a deal. Both sides of the equation retained their own worth, and if modern journalism was anything to go by, had even continued growing it. They truly did seem better together than apart.
Yeah. Be bonded to one of the most powerful, influential and gorgeous men alive. Get fucked to heaven and back. Be free to live my own life, only with a Brion general to support me in whatever it is I do. I think they put people in mental wards for refusing things like that.
One thing remained, though, stronger than all of that, and more resilient than Naima's undeniable attraction to Braen.
"I understand," she told Kerven firmly. "But we Terrans are very fond of our choices. And while I appreciate the notion, I think every individual should choose whether they have the right to potentially hurt someone with their actions before allowing themselves to do it."
She didn’t finish her train of through, seeing Kerven’s expression change. Naima could tell the young warrior wanted to argue, but not a word left his lips. That was probably wise, because it was about as far as Braen had gotten. After a certain point, there was nothing else to say but to agree to disagree.
"Now," Naima said, making sure she looked decent enough not to make every warrior in the dark hallways run from her in fear of insulting the general by glancing her way. "One last thing. Did the equipment here alert you? I didn't know it was so sensitive. I thought I barely whimpered."
"Yes," Kerven said dutifully. "They are activated by sounds of distress. Loud noises, like screaming."
Okay, that is very nice, but can they distinguish between me screaming in pain or screaming in pleasure? I'd like to know… just in case.
Naima chose her words very carefully this time.
"I get the general's concern for my well-being," she said. "However I need my privacy, too. I think we should replace these devices with buttons or something that I can push. Sound activation really isn't working for me."
The system kept in the room to calm her senses when she slept was similar, though it had been calibrated to be a lot more sensitive. If she ever got to the screaming stage again with a nightmare, Naima was certain that Braen would be the first one in the room. For now, she’d managed to rely on Palian technology to keep her mind calmer during those hours when she was least capable of battling the Fearless for dominance of her own senses.
She was relieved when Kerven nodded.
"Very well, Miss Jones, I will take it up with the general."
Before Naima could say any more, Kerven listened to something attentively and she could hear someone's muffled speaking over a comm link.
"The general expects us," the guard said when the voice stopped. "The Chali trader ship has arrived to the agreed location. It won't approach, of course. The proxy should arrive soon."
Naima nodded, following Kerven's lead through the corridors of the Benevolent. The lights had been turned up for her sake, tracking her path. Behind her, the corridors would become dark again.
The general was waiting for them in an exercise arena, much to Naima's surprise. She'd expected a lounge or a great hall to greet the Chali trader, but apparently Braen's distaste ran deep. As they approached, the general was so focused on the mech he was fighting that he didn't even notice them.
Naima got her first chance to see her gerion fight.
Her instincts told her to clap, mostly because she couldn't see half of Braen's movements. The general was almost inhumanly fast, jumping over and sliding under the eight-legged mechs that resembled giant arachnids. He did it with a fluidity and grace that Naima thought impossible of something so inherently violent.
The tall, heavy battle spear twirled in Braen's hand, an extension of him rather than a weapon. She couldn't tear her eyes away, watching a born warrior fight, even if she'd never liked shameless displays of violence.
There was nothing brutal about Braen. The general moved precisely and efficiently, his every strike and blow aimed perfectly where he wanted them. If the mechs had been actual living, breathing opponents, Naima suspected they wouldn't have suffered for long.
When the last of the mechs crumbled to the ground, Braen finally turned his attention on her and Kerven. Naima's heart skipped a beat, seeing the way the general's eyes lit up at once when they fell upon her.
It was hard to accept the extremity of the Brion bonds, but she couldn't deny that the way Braen looked at her made her believe all that he’d told her was for real. It made her feel sort of warm and fluffy, even if the whole thing was sort of ridiculously impossible on too many levels to count.
She had no idea what it all meant for her, for them, or for the whole galaxy. Audrey had warned her that the Fearless would use any weakness to get its victory.
As much as the Brions wanted to insist that the bond was a strength, against a monster who saw into her mind... it was definitely not good. While she wasn't sure about her feelings towards Braen, she certainly didn't want the general to die because of her. She didn’t want to distract him in any negative way, in fact.
Every person deserved to be their own person. Standing on their own two feet.
So why was a growing part of her so eager to forget all about it and give this two as one thing a chance?
There were footsteps behind her. Before Naima turned to see the Chali proxy, she saw Braen's eyes slide over to the android and the general's expression turned to pure loathing.
"Careful, Chali."
14
Naima
Talking about things that neither live nor breathe...
The android stopped at Braen’s growled greeting.
Naima had seen androids before, sure, but never one so perfect. The ones on Terra were good and Palians were able to create robots that could pass for one of their species, but there was always a tell.
Terra had always had the problem with androids falling into the uncanny valley of being close to perfection, but not quite, making everyone tip-toe around them out of sheer discomfort. Naima had felt the unease herself back when a remarkably realistic android had been sent to assist her team once.
Doug had gotten rid of it quickly.
The one standing in front of her somehow managed it all effortlessly. Without knowing much about robots or AIs, Naima could tell that it had been built with utmost care and attention. There were tiny flaws, beauty marks, and all the proportions fit, unlike with many androids that were built to imitate physical perfection that was unachievable in real life.
Or maybe not, she reminded herself, glancing at Braen.
The android was clearly female, however, if it could be assigned a gender. It certainly looked like a humanoid woman, if slightly androgynous, and an entirely normal one at that. With a pointy nose and high cheekbones, wide-set eyes and a fit body, Naima would have believed it w
as a living being.
If not for the pearly white skin, everything else fit. The fluidity of the android's movements was unbelievable, every miniscule reaction on point down to the natural brightness of its gray eyes. In short, it looked like a woman whose skin was made of snowy plastic.
Naima liked it, for some reason. She wondered if the android had been constructed to have facial features that inspired trust.
Probably.
Braen certainly wasn't buying it. The general joined them, sheathing his spear and looking no less threatening for it. Naima had learned that it didn't matter where the hefty spear was. He, like all Brions, was the weapon and all the sharp blades in the world were just handy tools in the hands of true warriors.
His eyes showed the measure of danger the others were in and right now, she expected to see pieces of the android scattered to the floor any second.
"Give me a more natural shade," the general said.
The android's skin dimmed at once, assuming a very light pink tone. It still couldn't have passed for a human, but it was easier on the eyes. The initial color had been practically glowing.
Naima had to wonder why the Chali had originally chosen to use androids. Perhaps with something so… disposable at their command, they’d fallen away from putting their physical selves in potential danger.
Rebuilding an android was a hell of a lot easier than resuscitating a living being with a Brion battle spear through their abdomen, for one.
"My name is Alona," the android said, nodding its head in a respectful greeting.
"You mean you are the AI?" Naima asked, excited. "Your voice is so nice."
That had to be programmed as well. It seemed to Naima that she recognized a timbre of a famous singer's voice that people loved. The Chali were known to create their proxies using components like that.
While the Corgans took the pieces they needed, the Chali simply… borrowed. It said plenty about the galactic opinion of the traders that out of those two, the Chali were hated more for their practices. At least Corgans took the flesh and blood of their enemies as a sign of respect.