by LC Morgans
“Everyone has a chance in this new world to reinvent themselves, Kyra. I’m the other side of the coin, and ashamed to say it. I wanted to get rid of the shackles of wealth, but slowly I’m learning to accept it. You’ve helped me to come to terms with who I am, and I’m going to help you too,” Silas promised, and she felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders. “You can be both the girl from the foster home and the soldier on her way to greatness, both aren’t exclusive. Your past will stay with you in your kindness and the compassion you'll certainly never lose, but your strength will help you fit into those circles that might’ve once looked down on you, and that’s because you belong there on merit.” His words hit her hard, and Kyra knew he was right. The world didn’t owe her a thing, and neither did the Thraks, but she would earn her place regardless of what anyone thought or the box they tried to put her in. In a world where wealth and power should no longer be a factor, she would make sure it wasn’t, and get her credits through hard work and determination.
“I love you,” she whispered, lifting up onto her tiptoes to kiss him when he reached for her again. “Now, take me shopping. I want to check out just how much I get paid for being in this army thing,” she added with a giggle, and then followed him over to where a huge black motorcycle sat waiting patiently for someone to ride it. He laughed at her feigned ignorance, and she appreciated that he didn’t believe she could be such a scatterbrain. Silas walked the bike outside, fiddled with it for a minute, and then jumped on a lever to the side. It roared to life, and Kyra watched with a smile while he checked that the components were working correctly, and then frowned when the front door of the house opened. Tarquin wandered out with a grin, and nodded at them both before leaning in to talk in her ear over the sound of the engine.
“You survived round-one, well done,” he said, and she turned to look up at him in surprise. “It took over a year before she accepted my girlfriend, and she’s the Police Commissioner of the entire US. Hang in there, midget. She’ll thaw eventually,” he added, and gave her a light knock on the shoulder with his fist.
“Hey, who’re you calling a midget?” she answered with a wink, and he shrugged before patting her on the head as if to prove his point. He might be taller than her, but she was used to that by now. “But thanks, and I guess I've still got a lot to prove before I’m allowed in, yeah?” He nodded, and Kyra knew she’d been right earlier when she suspected Freya would be hostile to anyone seeing her sons, no matter where they belonged in the classes or sectors.
“She’ll soften. My girl even offered to take her out for dinner one night, but that went all kinds of wrong. The end result was her threatening to get Deena fired ‘cause apparently she was being aggressive.”
“She is aggressive!” Silas shouted over the loud engine, and Tarquin laughed. He shrugged and nodded, not denying his girlfriend’s apparent ways.
“So, are you into butch chicks then?” Kyra asked, and earned herself a deep belly laugh from the huge policeman beside her. He was too busy howling with laughter to reply at first, but soon righted himself and peered over at his brother.
“This one’s definitely a keeper, Si,” he told him, and Silas grinned and gave him a nod. “I won’t tell her you called her butch, but yeah, muscles turn me on, midget. She fights like a man and takes it like a Thrak—all night long.” Kyra was shocked, but he laughed it off and she wondered if he was talking from experience or simply going on hearsay. It was a well-known fact they were bigger and stronger than humans, so it stood to reason that they’d have a longer endurance when it came to all things physical. Either way, she had the sneaking suspicion he wasn’t about to tell her his history with human lovers, or otherwise.
“Nice, Tarq,” Silas muttered when he put the bike in neutral. He climbed down off the humming beast and headed over to them with a smile, and Kyra could see he and Tarquin had a much better connection than either seemed to have with their mother.
“Come on, don’t tell me you're all sweetness and light these days, bro? I know you’ve probably put this girl through hell in training, and judging by the fire in her eyes, she did nothing but come back for more, right?” The look Kyra and Silas gave each other must've said it all, and he snickered. “He gets results, but isn’t afraid to beast his soldiers to get them. There was a time when I warned every girl who took a second look at him to stay away. Bad boy, black sheep of the family—whatever title he was aiming for, he got it and took no prisoners while doing so.”
“Don’t push it,” Silas snapped. “We’re the ones leaving our little piece of solitude for a few hours because you three turned up unannounced. We were quite happy whiling away our summer leave with nothing but a roof over our heads, and could easily find an alternative. Don’t make me stay away for good next time.”
“Hey,” Tarquin replied, and lifted his hands in apology. “I was just teasing, baby brother. And, anyone can see it’s not her who needs to be warned to stay away from you, but perhaps the other way around.” He leered at Kyra, and she scowled at him.
Silas grabbed her arm and turned her toward the bike, breaking the eye contact and the tension that’d just descended, thanks to Tarquin’s loaded comment. She wanted to ask him just what he meant, but was well aware of the bristling man standing beside her, and how close he was to the edge. She somehow knew there wasn’t much more Silas could take, so opted to salvage their day rather than let it be ruined by his oppressive family.
Kyra climbed onto the back of his bike and secured her helmet, then wrapped her arms around his waist and held tight. He checked she was ready and then sped out through the barely open gate while she screamed excitedly, and was happy to leave the tension behind. The speed and danger were a thrill she felt all through her body, plus the wind felt good against her skin as it rushed through her clothes. She loved the ride, and knew she’d take him up on the offer of a proper tour of the island if he fancied it on another day of their trip.
Once in the small nearby town, Kyra went immediately to the nearby credit station to check her balance. She knew there wouldn’t be much in the way of clothes to shop for or treats she could buy, but she wanted to find at least something of her own she could take back to that mansion. Borrowing clothes hadn’t been on her mind when she’d come to the island, and she was looking forward to having more things of her own to put in her half-empty backpack. Just like with cars and bikes, clothes were a luxury most humans couldn't afford. Each human was provided with work uniforms, and in the lower-class sectors the adults she’d known usually wore those day and night because they didn’t have anything else. Now though, she was trying to embrace her newly found freedom from that rut. She would be able to buy at least two outfits, she was sure, and then Freya couldn't moan about her borrowing her daughter’s clothes.
The chip-reader loomed over her, and Kyra hesitated. After living on scraped credits earned by doing small jobs above those expected of her, she still felt nervous checking her balance. She rubbed the scar on her arm, and could feel the small lump beneath the surface where her chip was. As a child, she remembered having it placed inside her wrist by a huge Thrakorian nurse with no care for the scary equipment, or how much it’d hurt. She and the other kids had cried for hours, and had eventually been bribed with cake made especially to cheer them up by their caregivers. After shaking away the memory, she pushed her arm into the rounded slot in the wall and waited for the reading. Seconds ticked by, and she nearly shuffled in case it wasn’t being read properly, but then the figure appeared on the screen that made her want to scream. She’d never had more than twenty credits to her name in all her life, and yet now she seemed to be worth over five thousand of them. Kyra tried to work out how many she should’ve tallied up over the year. The actual figure was far more, and she wondered for a moment if it was a mistake.
“Silas?” she asked as she wandered back over to him. “How many credits should we get for primary training?”
“Didn’t you get enough?” he asked, and was c
learly ready to take her to the nearest police station to speak with the clerks there regarding the issue.
“I think I got too many,” she mumbled, feeling embarrassed.
“You should get four thousand, give or take. Minus your food and board, but add the bonuses for your scores. You did really well this year, that’ll be the extra.” He grinned and squeezed her shoulder. “Our platoon came first, so we all got a gratuity for that.”
“That must be it, then. I’ve never had so much before,” she could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but was glad when Silas wouldn’t let her fret over it. He grabbed her hand and led her to a nearby clothing store. The manager there seemed used to serving those with credits to spare, and quickly got to work measuring her up and advising her on the best choices for her frame. The clothing would need to be custom-made, as the rules regarding wasted fabrics prohibited the tailors from mass-producing them, but she would do it within a few hours, and Kyra couldn't quite believe it. She’d never had service like this before, and after choosing just a simple dress, shorts and shirt for herself, she was ready for a strong drink. There hadn’t been a chance to buy anything new in all her life, and it felt odd being able to afford just a few essentials now that she was working hard, and seemingly getting rewarded for it. They left the seamstress to her work, and she focused on procuring their first drink of the day.
“You're a wreck, what's the matter?” Silas asked when she steered him towards one of the bars that lined the beach in search of something to take the edge off. He came to a halt and peered down at her, fixing Kyra with that stern stare that sent her right back to training. “Do you feel bad for spending your hard-earned credits on yourself?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “You're not off spending stupid amounts of credits on foolish things, so get over your guilt.”
She took a deep breath and knew he was right. There had to be a break away from the old her, and now was the time to fully take that last step. She did need those clothes, in fact she should’ve gotten more, and decided not to beat herself up about using some of her credits. She would spend them wisely, she had no doubt about it, and that was all that mattered.
Instead of ducking into a bar, they decided on a coffee shop instead. Patrons were invited to work for a free brew or pay with their credits, and she smiled at the concept. Hawaii seemed rich and full of middle-class humans, but there were still those in the lower-class, and with limited credits. It was wonderful to see how they could be rewarded with hot coffee or tea after just a small amount of work to help the storeowners out, and she admired their initiative. Silas ordered the drinks, and Kyra couldn't resist grabbing them a chocolate muffin each. She hadn’t had cake in years, and her mouth started watering immediately.
“What can we help you with?” Silas asked the clerk, much to Kyra’s surprise, and she was filled with renewed love for him. Instead of buying the drinks for her, he was offering to work off the credits for the order, and she appreciated the gesture. She was too hungry to work though, and instead paid the bill with her own credits.
“This muffin cannot wait until we’ve worked it off,” she told him with a wide smile, which he instantly returned. The clerk shrugged and went to the next customer in line, and Kyra demolished the cake in just a few bites while Silas carried their tray over to an empty table. “Oh, wow. That was amazing,” she sighed. It felt good to have been able to buy them, and that she’d gladly paid the bill without worrying about her balance. Thanks to Silas she was changing with every minute that passed, and she watched him with a contented smile. He leaned over the table to wipe her mouth with his thumb, and then handed her his muffin.
“Have mine if you’d like. I’m not hungry,” he said, and she knew it was a lie, but accepted the second mound of chocolaty goodness without argument. Kyra liked this new life she was making for herself, and even more so because of the people sharing it with her. She was happy, and that was more than she’d been able to say for a very long time.
Chapter
Eight
By that afternoon, they'd whiled away the hours by the beach, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Kyra was starting to feel more and more relaxed in Silas’ company, and soon stopped seeing him as the grumpy Platoon Commander she’d slowly gotten to know during the past year. He was hers, just as she was his. The love blossoming between them already felt so pure and real, and she didn’t care if she had a fight on her hands with his mother if she wanted to keep it.
They collected her new clothes, and when she tried them on so the seamstress could check the fit, Kyra felt amazing. She swished her dress around her knees and even asked to keep it on, much to the shopkeeper’s delight.
“Would you like to add anything else to your order? We have underwear available in your size,” the woman offered, and Kyra knew she needed them. She’d been wearing the same few sets of trusty underpants and bras for years, and they were in desperate need of replacing. She nodded and accepted a handful to try, while Silas browsed through a magazine in wait for her. He didn’t seem to mind the wait at all, and especially so when she flashed him glimpses of her chosen items from the changing room.
With her purchases complete, Kyra felt amazing. They stowed the bags in a locker at the back of Silas’ motorbike, and soon they were on their way back to the house. She felt light as a feather as they breezed down the quiet streets, and was sad to see the mansion appear over the horizon a short while later. Silas seemed the same, and when he sped right past the house without any intention of slowing, Kyra squealed in excitement. She gripped him tighter, but leaned back slightly to let the hot, salty wind seep into her skin.
Here they were free. On the road and in the breeze there were no extraterrestrial overlords ruling them, nor was his family rich and powerful enough to intimidate her. They could be anyone they wanted to be, and knowing they accepted each other either way was all that mattered.
Silas slowed the bike near the peak of a ridge, and eventually stopped. They were near the edge of a huge cliff, and Kyra discarded her helmet so she could peer out at the stunning view. She climbed off the bike and edged her way forward just a couple of steps.
“Why didn’t you go to New York with the rest of your family for summer leave?” she asked, her eyes on the horizon. “Why did you come here with me instead?”
“Because no matter what I do, I’ll always be the family screw-up. You heard Tarq earlier, always teasing and pushing at me for what I was like years ago. We get on better than we used to, but they’ve still put me in a box I’ll never escape from, just like you. Did you notice how not a single one of them congratulated either of us for coming in first place. They didn’t even ask, even though I know they would’ve been informed by Lt. Psy.” Silas was right, and Kyra knew there was no sticking up for them this time.
She nodded and took his hand in hers. Despite his failures, Silas truly had seemed to learn the error of his ways. If they couldn't see what an amazing man he’d become, then they were the ones missing out, and she told him so.
***
The smitten couple avoided the others as much as possible over the next few days, and opted to stay in the bedroom wherever possible. The need to explore their love hadn’t diminished one little bit, and they kept each other busy day and night with their unashamed affection as they gave into the lust that’d accompanied their adoration.
The last couple of days in Hawaii were bittersweet. Freya had softened a little and even Tarq’s taunts weren’t as harsh, so the atmosphere was better, but the progression also brought with it the end of their break from Fort Angel.
They climbed back into their combats and headed for the hovercraft in plenty of time to get back to base. Kyra was sad to leave their island behind, but this time they wouldn’t be heading back to secret kisses stolen behind crates in the shadows. She knew they'd need to come clean to Lt. Psy first, but then they’d be free to act like a proper couple when they were ready, and part of her couldn't wai
t to get back so that conversation could be over with.
Kyra was also apprehensive about starting her secondary training. She knew the harder and more physical work was done in the primary phase, so now was her chance to really shine in the lessons to come, but she was still terrified of failing.
“It’s good you're so scared, it means you want it bad enough,” Silas told her mid-flight when she was clearly still fretting. He seemed to have picked up on her unease without needing to ask her what it was about, and she loved how intuitive he was towards her emotions.
“I guess so, and even if I stayed where I am now it’s not the end of the world. I’m earning credits and will have my own room in the block now, plus food and utilities. Everything is falling into place at last, so I just need to keep going.”
“Exactly, but knowing you you’ll never need to settle for anything less than what you deserve,” he replied, and pulled her close.
The long ride back to Death Valley was hot and hard. Kyra and Silas sat together, but she had to keep from holding his hand or leaning in for a kiss. They were quiet the entire journey, and she welcomed the sight of the base when they approached.
“Meet me outside Psy’s office in an hour,” he told her before grabbing his pack and heading off into the huge building. She watched him go, but tore her eyes away. She had to focus on her training again. Kyra knew she’d never forgive herself, or him, if she failed thanks to her absentmindedness during the next phase.
“Corporal Millan,” a voice called from the head of the group ahead, and she raised her hand. Before them stood the voices owner, a soldier she’d seen around base during her first year. “You’ve been assigned to C-block, room twelve.” She thanked him and took the key he offered, and then stood back in the ranks with the others. When they were all given their assigned rooms, he addressed them again. “Welcome back to Fort Angel, and to the secondary phase of your training. I’m your Commander, Sergeant Parker. We’ll get you all back into the swing of things with a kit inspection and a ten-mile run tomorrow from oh-seven-hundred. Until then, get out of my sight.”