He stood there, stunned.
She shook her head, as if she was disgusted that he’d never seen it this way before. “You think only of yourself, Kroga. I can’t be with a male like that. It will only lead to future heartache.”
“But you are my Bride, I can’t live without my Bride.”
“If you were under mind control, you didn’t truly experience our separation. But I did. And, Kroga, we lived without each other for fourteen years. I survived that, I can survive another separation. You can stay here, but I’m leaving and going back. And I’m taking the cats with me too. It’s time for you to feel what it’s like to live on your own, without anyone, with everyone you love stripped from you. Only then can you truly understand what you put us through.”
And then she left and she was gone, forever.
7
There was a sharp rap on the door to his quarters, which Kroga chose to ignore. The computer had already alerted him to the fact that an intruder had arrived in the transporter room, alone. But then the knock upgraded to a violent pounding.
“Open the damn door,” his eldest son bellowed at him.
Kroga forced himself to ignore the pain throbbing in his head as he stood on shaky feet. He shuffled across the room, kicking aside trash as he went. A growl rumbled in his chest. They’d all left him behind and ignored him for an entire moon cycle and he’d assumed this meant forever. He slammed his claw on the panel and opened the door.
Rayzor looked him up and down. “You look like the fires of hell,” he commented, then brushed past Kroga and stormed inside. He glanced around at the cluttered room, inhaled, and wrinkled his nose. “What is happening here?”
Kroga licked his cracked lips and rasped out an answer. “What does it look like? I’m drinking myself to death. And if that doesn’t work then a blaster to the head should do the job.”
Rayzor’s lip curled in disgust. “Look at you. You are acting like a warrior without honor.”
Kroga ran a claw over his dirty braids. “My lack of honor has already been established.”
A muscle ticked in Rayzor’s jaw. “I purposely came here alone, without Kayzon or Joyzal, because I’d heard rumors you’d plummeted to this level, and I didn’t want anyone else to see you this way.”
“What do I care what anyone thinks?” he growled. Although, his hearts were both hurting at Rayzor’s statement, which was exactly why he needed more ale. Where was it? Kroga turned and knocked over an empty tankard. “Dammit,” he muttered. He’d have to go back out to get more ale from the food dispenser. And the mess hall was so far away…
“You cannot do this to yourself. You have to stop.”
Kroga turned and narrowed his eyes at his eldest son. Rayzor had disowned him. Kayzon had told him to his face that Kroga was no longer of his line and not his father. And his Bride had left him. It had been the worst day of his life. “What do you care what happens to me? You’ve already made it clear that I am no longer a part of your life.”
Rayzor knocked dirty clothes off a chair and sat down. “It’s true, we were angry. I didn’t believe you at first when you tried to tell us you’d been captured and used against your will by the Hurlians. You said they’d implanted you with some kind of sophisticated mind control device and essentially turned you into an organic cyborg, doing their bidding. You have to admit it sounded fantastical and oh so very convenient.”
Kroga snorted. “I told you the truth and you didn’t believe me.”
“Yes. And neither did my mother or Kayzon. Or anyone else. None of us believed you.”
“Let’s not revisit that day,” Kroga said, stopping in front of a forgotten tankard he’d found on a shelf, one fourth full of stale ale. He paused to chug the whole thing down.
“After I returned home to my farm, I had time to reflect on your story. My Bride, who is very wise, pointed out that I had to at least verify your claims as either true or false if I was going to move on with my own life. So, I have since taken the time to check on every claim you made regarding your capture. I checked timelines, vids and textual transcripts. I also checked your medical records, using the scan of your body loaded into the med bay on your facility here in the Swirl.”
Kroga wiped his mouth with the back of his claw. “And…”
Rayzor took a deep breath, glanced at the ceiling, then admitted, “You were telling the truth. The Hurlians had an extremely advanced mind control device implanted in your brain, like nothing anyone has ever seen before. None of what you did was under your free will. You were a warrior trapped in a body that was used for nefarious purposes and you had no way to stop what was happening.”
Kroga’s jaw dropped. Hot tears formed behind his eyes. For fourteen long years he’d been the toy of the Hurlians and no one had noticed, no one had tried to help. Everyone had easily believed he could do those unspeakable acts and believed the lies the Hurlian intelligence had spread about him. Meanwhile, he’d been trapped, without his mate and living a lie that was destroying his line.
“Turns out you aren’t a criminal mastermind after all,” his son noted.
Kroga walked over and sat heavily in the chair next to Rayzor. “I don’t have the device anymore either. Once it was removed, I ordered the computer to burn it in the incinerator. I was concerned it might have a tracker or that it could possibly reinitialize.”
“Good… And I am here to formally apologize to you for my former harsh treatment,” Rayzor concluded. “I thought you were a traitor to Chronos who was trying to kill my mother.”
“I understand,” Kroga answered steadily. And he did. And he was so fucking proud of his sons and what they’d done to keep their mother safe. And for the fact that they were both fierce warriors who implicitly followed the honor code despite the hardships that had been thrown their way.
“Do you accept my apology?” Rayzor asked.
Kroga bent forward and braced his elbows on his knees and bowed his head. “Of course I do,” he replied, then glanced up at his son. “Do you accept mine?”
“Father,” Rayzor responded gently. “There is nothing to apologize for; you were not able to control what happened.”
A sudden spark of rage lit inside, and Kroga sat up and pounded a fist against his chest. “No,” he raged. “It was me. That is what your mother said. That is what everyone outside that door thinks.”
“This is what you think of yourself?”
“My body and mind were used to commit unspeakable crimes,” he croaked, “and I was too weak to make it stop. The High Command is right, I do not deserve to live.”
“That is not true.”
“If the High Command was able to reach me here, they would execute me, as is their right. Instead, I will finish the job for them.”
“No.” Rayzor shook his head. “Everything has changed. This is the last time I can come here like this. The Swirl is about to be closed to me. The hacker I hired has, not surprisingly, been arrested for hacking into the Gravian securities financial mainframe and finding a way to give out the personal information of billions of beings. So, he’s in prison now. He was the only one with the knowledge on how to get into locked transporters and safely use industrial grade transporters on sentient beings. It’s looking like this information will die with him. This is our last chance to come and go from this section easily. When I leave here, that’s it, I’m never coming back, and I’m taking you with me. I need for you to shut down this facility, put this business up for sale and leave the Swirl for good and never return. You will come back to the four sectors and restart your life.”
“I cannot. What I did cannot be forgiven.”
“It can.”
“No.”
“Yes, it can. I used the resources of the Bounty Hunter Guild in order to find evidence to exonerate you and I’ve already sent it to Zhoryan of Seventy-Five and also to the High Command. A tribunal of judges is reviewing it right now. Zhoryan has already communicated with me that their initial review includes a judgment of
innocence. Your overall exoneration on Chronos is in the works.”
“No. I am the butcher of Cordova. Kroga the traitor. All Xylan hate me, no matter their caste.”
“It is true that you are the most hated individual in the four sectors. But you have the opportunity to now instead become ‘Kroga the Redeemed.’ Although, I do not recommend you relocate to Chronos because gaining forgiveness and correcting your reputation there will take the rest of your lifetime, but you can restart elsewhere, in a location where you can at least become a daily part of your immediate line.”
Kroga placed a claw over his heavy hearts. “All I care about is the forgiveness of your mother,” he rasped. “I want my Bride back.”
“Then come and get her.”
8
Three moon cycles later…
The wind lashed Melachine’s face as she strode through the charming nighttime forest that bordered the distant edge of her son’s farm. She lifted her chin, enjoying the stinging slap of rain on her cheeks.
One of the locals flapped its paws at her to turn back as she’d entered the dark forest. “Mistress,” it screeched with urgency, pointing at some sort of sign, “no one enters those woods at night, especially during the rainy season. Predators will devour you and a vicious storm is on its way. Please turn back. I fear for your safety.”
She’d smiled, thanking the being for its concern and continued on.
Strange.
That had to be the fourth time a local had spotted her starting one of her regular nighttime walks and fretted over her safety. Yes, she’d had to leap over a wired fence in order to access this terrain, but still, all this worry over a simple forest? She shook her head and chuckled. These locals hadn’t seen real danger until they’d tried to traverse the Red Desert Canyons of Chronos.
Melachine swung her arms, crooked at precise right angles, and picked up the pace of her exercise routine. The majority of this planet was covered with pristine natural landscape dominated with wild creatures, which was part of its charm. This was a lovely walk, especially after the suns set and she could see objects so sharply with her nighttime vision. She had no idea what the fuss was about.
After she’d left the Swirl, she’d stayed for one moon cycle with her son Joyzal and his Bride on Zamarilla, the famed vacation destination planet. She’d cried the moment she’d been reunited with her granddaughter, Joy. That tiny girl was her everything. Melachine cried shamelessly the moment her arms went around the squiggling toddler. “Grandma,” Joy cried. “Lemme go, you holding me…owwwie.”
Everyone had laughed.
She’d missed so many moon cycles of Joy’s growth. The darling little girl was much bigger now. And godsdammit, she didn’t want to miss any more time with her family, especially with the sons she hadn’t seen for fourteen years.
Melachine leapt over a fallen log, easily avoiding the spiked limbs. She glanced around, admiring the gorgeous scenery. This forest was simply stunning. Giant trees jutted up into the nighttime sky, the trunks larger than the width of three warriors. Wind continued to thrash the nearby branches and rain dripped off her hooded jacket. A creature howled ferociously in the distance, and then another one responded in a closer location. She inhaled a deep breath of the woodsy air. It reminded her of the Xylantic forests on Chronos. No wonder Rayzor had relocated here. Zamarian Prime was a very livable planet.
She continued down the barely discernable path, her mind humming with the happiness of a mother recently reunited with her sons. Having her line nearby was one of the joys of her life. Recently, the judgement of disbursement and banishment of her immediate line had been lifted. Not that she’d cared. The moment she’d left the Swirl she’d been in the care of her sons and their Brides and she hadn’t been apart from them for a moment since.
Because no one was fucking separating her from her offspring ever again.
No. One.
On Chronos she’d grown up in the enormous compound of House Ulmath, then when she’d joined with her husband she’d committed to his much smaller line. As her career grew, she’d enjoyed a large network of Xylan family and friends.
And then she’d lost everything.
Joyzal of Seventeen had stepped in—he’d been a stranger, a Margol of zero standing who’d saved her in her time of need. She’d been shamed by the taint of her traitorous mate and House Ulmath had been forced to turn from her. Everyone she’d ever known had turned away. None of the royal pigment-sponsored stations or outposts would take her.
But under Joyzal’s sponsorship she’d been able to live in peace at his compound on Zamarilla and slowly but steadily rebuilt her reputation and contacts within expat society. She’d eventually contacted her mother and sister, reconnecting with her loved ones on Chronos. She could never again return, but this didn’t mean she couldn’t send messages to her extended line. But, she was not allowed contact with her sons. Her immediate line was banished and disbursed. Only her grandchildren had the legal right to return to Chronos and restart with the standing of honorable warriors, free of the taint of treason.
But now all those rules were lifted. And yet she found herself not even remotely wanting to return to Chronos. She and her sons had built lives out here in the four sectors, separate from the society she’d been raised in, and it seemed none of them cared to return to the planet that had discarded them.
She thought back again to those initial ten years with Joyzal. She’d grown to care for him as her own son. And later, when she’d discovered he’d initially taken her in as a gift to her own son, Rayzor, her trust in this male had been confirmed. She’d always suspected Joyzal had an ulterior motive for choosing her as his Manager. Why else would a Margol who wanted off the mating database want a Manager? She tried hard to find his Bride, only for him to discover his mate through an accidental testing. This was the bane of a Manager’s existence, knowing her whole job had been worthless. Although Melachine adored Jacole. That human was a daughter to her.
And even after she’d found out about Rayzor and Joyzal’s friendship she hadn’t been able to make official contact with her son for four more years. It was illegal. She’d found a way to secretly message Kayzon. But these tiny forms of contact and communication had been entirely unsatisfactory.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. Fourteen long years without her children or their children, or their Brides. And the years apart from her mate.
Yesterday, Rayzor pulled her aside into the office he shared with Becca. He sat her down and forced her to look through every bit of evidence he’d gathered which proved his father’s innocence. She’d sat for hours going through everything. Apparently, even the High Command had rendered a judgement, absolving Kroga of treason. All charges had been dropped against her mate. These last three moon cycles he’d been living at a secret Imperial Military location, giving them intel about the Hurlians.
Okay, she could accept that he’d been telling the truth about being controlled by those red-skinned assholes, which would be the only way he would commit treason. This made sense. But the rest of it? He’d kidnapped her and he’d…
Flashes of the intimate way Kroga had touched her, his smell, his taste, entered her mind. The countless orgasms. Damn him. She was still so, so, so very angry at that man. Everyone else in her immediate line seemed to have already accepted Kroga’s innocence and let go of the past, but she hadn’t. Nope. Not yet.
Strangely, Kayzon, who’d been physically damaged due to the disbursement of his line, was the first to move on. He’d returned from the Swirl and spent many days in deep meditation and prayer. Her youngest son was very strong in his faith. As a result, he seemed to have achieved inner peace and was able to forgive his father and let the past go.
Melachine was not this far along in her own honor path.
She’d spent the last four moon cycles dividing her time between Zamarilla, New Earth and Zamarian Prime. And now she was living with Rayzor and often spent time with his precious son Ray and a heavily pregnant
Becca. She enjoyed going out with her son’s Bride to help her monitor the harvest. Everything that was grown or harvested on the farm—the entire business operation—was due to the smarts of this human female. Her son had mated well. Melachine was also truly surprised at how Rayzor had morphed from a vicious Bounty Hunter into an ambitious agri-business farmer, or how he could so easily switch between the two roles. That morning she’d seen him leave to direct the new fleet of robo-tractors they’d purchased, and that evening he was running through simulated combat in the holo deck.
Melachine had already decided that she wanted to settle on this planet.
There was a site on the edge of Rayzor’s farmland which bordered this ancient forest that would be a perfect location to build a Xylan hunting lodge. She could live there herself and have her alone time, and Rayzor and his family could also have their space. And she could have guest quarters so Kayzon and his family could have plenty of room to stay when they visited. She planned on convincing Joyzal and Jacole to relocate to Zamarian Prime and use it as their home base for their Bounty Hunter activities. They could also build a lodge nearby and they all could recreate the lifestyle of a Xylan family compound on this working farm. It would be lovely.
First, she had to tell Rayzor and Becca of her plans. She was certain they would agree, especially since she would offer to watch their children while they worked. This would be no hardship, it would be her honor to care for the youngest offspring in her extended line.
“Kroga wants to see you again,” Rayzor had remarked over breakfast that morning.
“I bet he does,” she’d snorted, slightly annoyed that the two of them had been speaking about her.
Kroga's Redemption Page 6