DEADLY REFUGE (The Alorian Wars Book 2) Page 3

  "Of course you can," Brendle replied. "In all the time I've known you, there's nothing you can't do." Brendle brushed a tuft of hair behind her ear and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she looked up at him. He always says the right thing, she thought. She readjusted her hair and smirked.

  "Perhaps you think too much of me," she replied, her eyes narrowed questioningly. "Do you really think I can pretend to be the captain of the Replicade?" Pretending was easy; successfully pulling off a ruse was another thing entirely.

  He laughed softly and said, "I've been pretending to be the captain of this ship for more than four months now." It was truth born in tragedy. Looking back, he’s done a good job so far, she thought. Deis and Malikea would agree, she was sure. She still didn’t understand why the burden of taking the helm was falling to her, though. She had the sneaky suspicion the guys in her company were toying with her because they didn’t want the responsibility. In bed, Brendle assured her that was not the case, but he revealed little else. If that wasn’t his intention, then maybe it was Deis or Malikea’s idea to toss her under the stress of faux leadership. If so, then why would Brendle buy into it? Did she trust him? It took time, but the answer to that question was yes. If anything, she was struggling to trust herself. Even with the AI programmed for piloting the Replicade, she still had to communicate her ship’s intentions to Farax, never mind the fact none of them knew how the locals would respond to a survivor of Luthia being in Greshian territory, much less the growing hostilities towards actual Greshians on Farax. She wondered if that maltreatment extended towards Lechuns as well. If so, then no wonder I was left to endure this. Maybe that’s what I’m so afraid of.

  “All you have to do is trust the AI to land the ship while you communicate with the controller. I’ll be on the bridge, out of view from the controllers on Farax, but close enough in case you need me. Come on, you were a marine for the Luthian Navy, you’ve got this,” Brendle said, breaking the silent thoughts in her head. His grin was one lending itself to encouragement this time.

  She looked up at him, her hands finding their way onto his chest. “Were? I’ll have you know, I never stopped being a marine,” she corrected, pinching him playfully. “I’m just a misplaced marine, now.”

  Brendle smiled back at her, rubbing away the tinge of pain she’d inflicted, and brought his lips to hers. “See? That’s the kind of tenacity I know will make you succeed at this.”

  Anki smiled, turning to face the monitor again. “So, all I have to do is press the comm switch, dial it in for Farax, and say ‘This is Captain Paro of the Replicade requesting permission to land in Sector 112, Farax. Statement of purpose is for resupply and to contract repairs for my ship’.”

  “Pretty much, but it is Farax, Sector 112,” Brendle said.

  “And you’re sure that’s it?”

  “More or less.” He thumbed through a few screens on the monitor, leaving Anki to wonder if there was something he was worrying about but he didn’t want to say it out loud. It made her worry too, about what she might not know and how that could negatively affect them.

  “And what if they want to board us?” Anki looked at him longingly. This was never part of the discussion and she could see it in his eyes as he seemed to struggle with finding the right answer. That’s it, she thought, he hadn’t thought of the fact they could board the ship.

  “Then we let them board,” Deis said, walking onto the bridge. “Malikea and I have a lot of experience stowing away on this ship. We once hid for six days while law enforcement combed every nook and cranny of the Replicade, but they never found us. They finally gave up and we took off as fast as we could. It was rather frightening, but we made it out all right. But to answer your question, there’s plenty of room in some of the holds for Brendle if necessary, I assure you.”

  “See? That was easy,” Brendle smiled.

  “Uh-huh, you just take credit for Deis’ idea and play the hero why don’t you?”

  Deis stepped closer to them. “I hate to bring this up now, but I do have some cause for concern,” he said.

  Anki’s heart sank. Deis was usually the more confident member of the crew. If he is worried, then it must be something serious.

  “What’s wrong?” Brendle asked, the playfulness decayed from his voice and the mask of security faded from his face.

  “It’s not what you think,” Deis said. “But Malikea has been acting strange since we discussed our plans to land on Farax. I keep asking him if something is wrong, but it just pushes him further away.”

  “Is there anything about Farax, or someone on Farax, that might be the problem?” Anki asked. Malikea hardly ever gave the cold shoulder, so if he was hiding something, the only person who was in a position to know was Deis.

  “I think the piracy running rampant on that world has him nervous. I’m nervous about it too, but I can’t help thinking there is something else that he is hiding from me.”

  “What does he say when you bring it up?” Brendle asked.

  Deis shrugged. “It’s different each time. Sometimes he will change the subject, other times he gets upset and silent. He isn’t the kind of person to be confrontational; he wears it on his heart when he is upset. He thinks people don’t see it, but I’ve been with that man since we were introduced as betrothed. It wasn’t easy at first, but we learned what made each other tick. I’m upset that I can’t seem to figure this out, though.” Deis wiped the beginnings of a tear from his eye and took a deep breath. Anki could tell he didn’t want to be emotional, but he was venting his frustration to the only other people on the ship.

  “Would you like for me to talk to him?” Brendle asked.

  Deis looked up nervously as he and Anki answered together, “No.”

  Brendle looked confused for a moment.

  “It’s a nice gesture, but I don’t think that is what Deis and Malikea need right now,” Anki said as she ran her hand across Brendle’s back. “I think Deis wants to mend this one his own.”

  She looked at Deis and he nodded. She could see him pleading thanks with his eyes, as he probably assumed the worst thing possible would be for Malikea to think they were talking about him behind his back. “Yes, I want to be the one to repair what seems to be broken.”

  “I hate to say it, but the best thing for now is to give him space. Just try to pretend everything is normal so he doesn’t feel as on guard about it around you. Maybe, if he feels at ease, he will open up about it on his own,” Anki suggested.

  “Do you think so?” Deis asked, the skepticism heavy in his voice.

  “I think everyone is different and, if bringing it up brings too much anxiety between you two, maybe not bringing it up can help.”

  Deis nodded, a smile forming on his lips. “I think I understand. I guess I’ll mull it over and see you two in the morning. Good night.”

  Anki watched as Deis stepped out of the bridge and back towards his quarters. She felt bad for whatever he and Malikea were going through, but she was confident they would work it out. She could see how much they loved one another. That kind of commitment inspired her to carry on, especially after enduring such a loss.

  “Do you really think that will work?” Brendle asked.

  Anki smiled. “I hope so.”

  Chapter 5: Malikea

  The room was cramped, like most on ships like the Replicade, but it was the home Malikea shared with his husband Deis. Knowing where their home was now heading made him anxious, but that was to be expected for anyone who knew what kind of past Deis and Malikea were running from. Farax, other than being in Greshian territory, was not the kind of place to be, regardless of whether you could take care of yourself. It was a world that could not be broken of its wild spirit, and that spirit flowed in the veins of the unrighteous with as much indignity as it could muster. In short, Farax was a deathtrap to anyone who did not belong there, and belonging was something Malikea never truly felt on any world he had ever stepped on. But that was not the worst of it in Mal
ikea’s mind. For people like Deis and Malikea, Farax was a place where your past wasn't the only thing that could come back to haunt you.

  "I can't believe you told him to go there," Malikea said as he disrobed. His dark gray skin almost disappeared from view in the dimly lit room. The sheen of his crimson gown was the only thing that reflected what little light was around them as it dropped onto the foot of the bed where Deis lay; that and the yellow of his eyes.

  "I didn't have any choice," Deis said. "You heard him, the ship needs supplies and we aren't in the same condition we were before we picked up Brendle and Anki from that moon. Maybe if we hadn't intervened then we would be all right, but seeing things how they are, it's the right decision."

  Malikea looked coldly into his husband's eyes as he lay next to him, the soft pillow collapsing slightly under the weight of his head. They didn't hold any contempt; they were full of worry. Deis was the fighter and Malikea was the worrier, the one who always felt he needed to pick up the pieces and clean the wounds from whatever fight they were up against. That was their relationship, and he accepted it for what it was, but it didn't make rationalizing an irrational decision any easier. What life could have been before we found ourselves here, Malikea thought.

  Deis took a deep breath and caressed Malikea's face. "Everything will turn out," he said. Malikea wondered if he purposefully left out the words "all right" or if it was a coincidence that fell in step with his own line of thinking. His thoughts were interrupted by a kiss from Deis, but he wasn't interested in returning the affection. There was too much on his mind and he knew the anxiety would build the closer they got to Farax. "I'm serious. There’s no need to worry," Deis finished.

  Malikea canted his head and stared at Deis. The two of them had gone through so much in the ten years he had known him. Things weren’t easy in the beginning, and things weren’t easy now, but perseverance was something they had grown used to, even excelled at. He never thought an arranged marriage would have ended up being such a splendid thing. Maybe there is something to fate after all, he thought. "I'm not afraid of Farax, but of who we might find there," he replied after several moments of silence. Piracy was as common as a barkeep or store owner on Farax. The only difference was what each of them was trying to sell. A shiver ran down his spine as he fought to shake the thought from his mind.

  "There is no one there who knows us," Deis rebutted.

  Malikea inhaled sharply, the words coming from his husband's lips burned through his heart with the raging flames that only guilt could form, but he remained silent nonetheless. Maybe Deis is right, he allowed himself to hope. There was no changing what needed to happen, so all he had was the hope that their past wouldn't come back to disrupt the lives they had built together. It was a trip not unlike this one that thrust Malikea and his young husband towards a life of slavery. He still had dreams of their ship being overtaken, the wild-eyed men with large guns crowding the tiny ship where Malikea shivered in fear. They were naïve then, too stupid to not be afraid of the rumors circling that system. He could not even bring himself to utter the name of it. That was how far his fear had taken root, and now that they were heading to the same kind of place, the fear revealed itself to be anger, tinged with guilt and self-contempt. The fear he could handle, but the guilt was its own kind of punishment.

  Malikea lay silently contemplating the decisions he had made to help bring them to this juncture in their lives. As Deis snored lightly next to him, Malikea rose from the bed and donned his robe, the silk feeling cool against his skin. He wasn't much in the mood for sleep and felt awkward sitting in the bed, wide-eyed in the dark. The Replicade sped quietly through the dark, their only company being the low hum of electricity emanating through the steel bulkheads and the soft churn of the air recyclers wafting conditioned air into the livable spaces. Malikea ran his hand along the cold bulkhead as he made his way to the bridge. It was something he always did when he felt afraid.

  He found a seat in the corner at a place Brendle had said would have belonged to a Combat Control operator when the Replicade was used as a warship. Brendle also said that Combat Control had been his job when he had served the Greshian Navy; that it had been his fingers pulling the trigger that destroyed countless lives across the Alorian Galaxy. Malikea was appalled to be in the presence of such a man at the time, but Deis reminded him that Brendle had saved their lives. It wasn’t easy, but that was how Malikea justified the now-budding friendship he had with the man who may have been responsible for his and Deis' home being annihilated.

  But that justification was only a half-truth. As vile as any Greshian was in Malikea’s eyes, there wasn’t much difference in how he viewed himself when the guilty thoughts of his past crept back into his memories. What reality shone behind Malikea's eyes was one much darker than even Deis knew. Guilt shadowed his life and was becoming ever-increasingly harder to shake. The sensation was now tainting his life in ways he never knew they could before, but he knew it was impossible to talk about it. Malikea's problem went much deeper than mere shame. He feared that, if Deis had known what he had done, it would destroy their marriage, and their relationship was the only stable thing in his life since Lechushe’ was destroyed.

  Malikea ran his hands against the smooth console. Blue light illuminated under his hand, waiting for his command, but he had no desire to control any part of the warship. He just stared at the light penetrating through the darkness of the sleeping bridge, lost in the thoughts he hoped to escape.

  "Can't sleep?"

  Startled, Malikea turned to see Anki leaning against the bulkhead on the other side of the bridge. She was dressed in a gray robe tied tightly around her waist. She was an imposing woman, strong in stature and in resolve. Her dark features paled in comparison to her heart, though. Malikea thought her strength came from her heart, from the love she didn’t know she was capable of. Or perhaps that’s a romantic notion I attributed only to others, he wondered.

  Still, Malikea had seen Anki during their escape from the massive Greshian ship as she struggled to find her place in the crew, to know what her purpose would be. He knew her now as a fighter and a nurturer. She is kind of an everywoman, Malikea thought, and he respected her profoundly. Especially how she coped with the loss of her own world and found comfort in the arms of a former enemy. He wondered how she found the strength to do that, and whether or not she viewed it as her strength the way he did.

  Their cultures were very different.

  "I have a lot on my mind," he answered, turning away shyly.

  Anki moved closer to him and pulled up a chair. "Me too," she said, sitting within arm’s reach, close enough he couldn’t hide the shame he felt reddening his face. He knew she was reaching out, either for help or to help. He hoped it was for the former, anything to take his mind off what kept him up at night.

  Malikea took her hand; the mocha color of her skin paled in comparison to the dark gray hue of his own. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

  She looked away for a moment and he felt a tinge of guilt for putting her on the spot in such a way. He knew he was just trying to avoid the same question, to escape the truth he constantly denied. That fact did nothing to ease how he felt; it made it worse.

  "I've been thinking a lot about my father," she said. "I can't help but think about all the times I should have called him, or visited, yet I was too hung up on training and becoming a marine that I essentially ignored him. Now, he's gone and there's no going back." She stopped talking for a moment and the silence nudged Malikea to say something, but the words weren’t coming to his lips right away.

  He looked down at her and watched as she wiped a tear from her eye, but she didn't sob. She showed strength in her heartache. That strength reminded him of a time he felt he was going against the world. "Can I tell you a story?" he asked.

  Anki answered with a nod.

  "On my world we had arranged marriages for the priests. In order to be shown favor, families would dedicate their children to be be
trothed. Only the boys could be offered because the priests were not allowed to procreate. Though the act of intercourse was not necessarily sinful, a priest’s creation of new life was considered an act of defiance against the order. The priest—along with the mother and child—would be executed. All of this is a dark part of the history of our culture. There would be instances still where a priest would fall into the arms of a woman and lie with her. Deis and I witnessed the execution of beauty on more than one occasion, and I grew resentful.

  "I love Deis with all my heart, but if my life had not already been dedicated to be betrothed to him, I can't say I would not have found love with a woman of my kind. Knowing this, I came to hate my father for casting me into this world, for taking choice out of my life and forcing me to potentially act against my character merely to bring honor to his name. I've told this to Deis several times, and this is why we were off world when our home was destroyed. We tried to immerse ourselves into another culture, one that didn't shackle us together, but allowed us to be who we were. Because of this experience we fell in love organically, not because refusing to would have conflicted with the order of our religious society. Also, because of this we are still alive.

  "I tell you this because I resented a lot of people, several of them in my own family, for putting me into a position that I've grown to love and hold dear to me. I could never choose another besides Deis, and for that, I am greatly appreciative of the life I live. But there is a part of me that regrets what I had to experience to get to this point. I can never say this to those I've lost, and I don't know why I'm telling you now other, than to let you know that I understand the pain of regret in not having closure with the people you love. It does get easier, and you honor them by remembering them, not by regretting what you failed to do by them."

  Anki looked up at Malikea, tears streaming down her face. He could see he had struck a chord with her, pulled on her heartstrings so they were on the same plane of existence. He felt closer to her now, revealing the state of his heart to someone other than his husband, but he didn't reveal the truth of what kept him up at night. He would just have to hold on to the fact she knew he ached in much the same way she did. He hoped that planted the seed of trust. Malikea just hoped that trust didn't prove to be misplaced, again.