Driven to Inertia

by T C

  Peace

  Light streamed in through the walls of the rooms Quentin rented them in the Glass Palace, a club and resort overlooking the Alaphoe Gardens on Procopia. It was a faint blue, that light, making the skies a deep indigo and the clouds a pale eggshell blue and tinting everything it touched. The exotic plants and flowers of the sector-famous gardens stretched out beneath them, gently falling in terraced rows until they reached the distant cerulean ocean.

  Quentin looked in on Kaydia. She lay on the bed, huddled up and lost in her thoughts, still unwilling to respond. He couldn't tell if it was the drugs, or the trauma, or what. But she hadn't spoken since he'd found her in that cell. All she'd done is lay around, eating when he put food in her mouth and waiting to be moved. The Inertia had dulled her thoughts as well –he could sense her, but her emotions and feelings were packed away behind thick, dense walls.

  Softly, he entered the room and sat next to her. "I wish I knew how to help you," he whispered, stroking her hair. "All I can do is be here for you, though." He shifted her, sitting her up and leaning her against him. His arms went around her, and he held her so she could see the view. "So I'll be here, Kaydia. As long as it takes."

  ***

  ONE NEW VIDEO MESSAGE

  Linora smiled when the notification popped up on her communicator. She hadn’t the time to watch the stream, not with the reorganizing necessary within the Digital Sun in the wake of DUDE’s assassination. New responsibilities and what not. So, she waited for the second notification, the one that would arrange a meeting with the pirate crew for the purchase of Kaydia. But that notification never arrived.

  The pirates had been more than willing to capture the couple, and eager to torment Kaydia on top of it. The offer of a three hundred thousand credit payout hadn’t hurt. Pity they wouldn’t see a cent of it. Not because Kaydia wasn’t worth it, but Linora figured she could better buy her loyalty by “rescuing” her, and slaughtering every last pirate on board. And she was going to need Kaydia’s loyalty if she hoped to convert Quentin.

  Hours passed without word from the pirates, so Linora took a moment to watched the video stream. The footage started promising. They had indeed captured Kaydia, and presumably Quentin as well. But why hadn’t they checked in? Had they suspected her plan? Had they gotten a better offer?

  The footage progressed as expected. Kaydia tried to resist, only to be stunned by the SIN. Helpless terror flickered in her eyes, flickered in the moments before the Inertia kicked in.

  The feed picked up on distant, distorted audio, “Kaydia! Where are..." Quentin burst in only a moment later, killing the captain and his sister in a blaze of rage and silver light. Shit.

  The video continued, but while the scene didn’t change, distant audio told a story. Blaster shots and last cries. Quentin didn’t have the decency to die.

  In the end, he returned to the cell, and gathered Kaydia into his arms. He took one last look into the camera, one triumphant, hateful glare, and ignited his plasma blade. The video erupted into a flash of silver light, and then the feed died in the screech of static.

  Shit, so much for well laid plans.

  Typing frantically, she pulled up the data from the tracking chip she’d placed on the Scrapper. It had landed on Procopia, a tourist world not far from Miruta. If she moved fast, she could get there before Quentin and Kaydia left again. Especially with Kaydia struggling against the effects of the Inertia.

  She’d let Kaydia slip through her fingers once. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

  ***

  What are you doing, Kaydia?

  Kaydia stood in the bathroom of their rented room, splashing water on her face. Familiar anxieties filled her mind as she came down from her high. How can I get more Inertia? She resented that it was the first thought that passed through her mind as lucidity returned, but the craving was strong, and the fear of withdrawal was stronger. From what she could tell, it had already started, as Master Bry-Ta stood behind her.

  Did you really think you could leave Miruta and nothing would happen to you? After everything you’ve done?

  A hallucination. Despite how painful and uncomfortable the rest of the withdrawal symptoms were, the hallucinations were always the worst of it. The stern eyes of her former master, following her along, judging her silently. Patronizing her with that Justiciar serenity, which she could never reach.

  Kaydia tried ignoring the voice. It would work for a time, she knew. She focused on what was real. The room Quentin rented was nice. Exactly what she had hoped for when they left Miruta. Exactly the kind of place she wanted to end up, so they could fuck each other’s brains out. So they could make love for hours, and sleep in each other’s arms. So she could make him forget his duty, and his ex. But the pirate’s threats stayed with her.

  This is your punishment. For all the people you killed for the Digital Sun. How many innocent people did you assassinate on their word? You think you get to live a peafulce life with the man you love after that?

  Kaydia gripped the sink with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut until the blood pounding in her ears could drown out the hallucination. She was safe, away from Miruta with Quentin. That was all that mattered now. Drawing one more shuddered breath, she stepped into the bedroom to face him.

  “Nice place.” Quentin acknowledged her with concern in his eyes, and she only had to force herself a little to greet him with a smile. She wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened on the pirate ship, and he didn’t prod. She appreciated that. “This should be fun for a couple days.”

  His eyes lingered on her, but not in the sexy way she’d gotten used to. No, he was studying her, worried about the brave face she wore. “Hopefully. Quiet, for sure. And peaceful.”

  The last word struck her, leaving a tight lump in her throat and an ache in her chest. It wouldn’t be peaceful for long.

  You’re going to drag him down Kaydia. The longer you stay on that stuff, the more you are going to hurt him.

  “Hey, why don’t we get out of here for a bit? I could really use some new clothes.” Quentin had dressed her in one of his shirts, but it was big on her. Not exactly flattering. Besides, when they fled Miruta, she had to leave all her stuff behind. It was possible she might never recover all of it, so now was as good a time as any to start over.

  "Shopping, huh?" Quentin said, playing along with her facade. "Yeah, I guess we can do that. You need some new clothes anyway. Not that you don’t look good in my shirt."

  “I might have to agree with you there,” she cooed, pulling him closer. Flirting felt better than moping.

  “Oh, and why’s that?” he teased, stroking her arms. The smile on his face could melt through her worry.

  “Because if I’m wearing your shirt, you can’t. And I love the view.”

  Shopping with Quentin quickly reminded her that he was in fact a Justiciar. While she threw herself head first into shopping, browsing and trying on outfits to her heart’s content, Quentin displayed a casual disinterest. Nevertheless, he exhibited nearly endless patience, letting her drag from shop to shop, and carrying the bags without complaint.

  Instead, his attention was focused on her. In those little moments of distress, as the terror of her near rape bubbled up? He was always nearby with a tender touch, or affectionate peck on the cheek or forehead. Pulling her into his arms, letting his embrace shield her from the anxiety. It was nice, how he knew intuitively when she needed his love. He would never let anything hurt her. She still wasn’t sure she wanted him in her head at all times, but right now, she was grateful for it.

  Retiring to their room with their purchases, Kaydia dropped the carefree act. Quentin set the packages down on the dresser as she sat on the bed. “The withdrawal from Inertia is pretty intense. I will probably be pretty difficult over the next couple days,” she warned, and curled into herself.

  Quentin sat down next to her. "Perhaps," he said, slipping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her close. He held her close,
feeling her roiling emotions and trying not to pry. "Inertia?" he finally said. "I've never indulged, but I've heard it's bad stuff. But..." He leaned his head against hers. "There are a few techniques I could teach you, that can speed the recovery process. You feel like hell when you do it, but it speeds things up."

  “I doubt it could be much worse than the withdrawals. It was hell. Took me three tries to fully kick it last time,” she explained, resting her head on his chest. The headaches were getting worse. She wondered if he picked a planet with a blue sun on purpose, or if it were just a coincidence. The softer light helped, but by tomorrow it would make no difference. “The scientist who created it bragged about how he tweaked the formula, to make the withdrawals worse. To make it damn difficult to quit it. At this point I’ll try anything, if it goes faster.”

  Quentin nodded. "It was a little rough, the first time I used them to shrug off merakuya. And that stuff is nowhere near as bad as Inertia."

  “Merakuya honey?” she repeated, honest surprise in her voice. “Didn’t think the Order would approve of that.”

  Quentin laughed. “Not particularly, no. Not when they tasked me with ferreting out the elder Justiciars that were smuggling it into Cephoria. Which led to my ‘death.’” He shook his head, and squeezed her shoulders. “It’s too bad, really. It could be used to heighten our perceptions and deepen our connections with the mysteries of the universe.”

  “Yep, but most people just use it to have mind-blowing sex,” she joked, not entirely kidding. “At least, that’s how I was introduced to it, by the last woman I was with. She…” Kaydia blushed and bit her tongue, trying to push Linora from her mind. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about all that, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” he husked, drawing her face closer to his. “I could stand to hear a little more…”

  Her body moved now, bringing her face up to his, pulling his mouth to hers. The kiss was needy and deep, longing to feel his love wash over her and fill her. Let him sweep away the horror and pain, replace it with tender affection and resonate passion.

  Quentin let himself be pulled into the kiss, let himself be pulled down and over her. There was a desperate edge in her hunger. It was in her muscles and motions, the taste of it on her lips and flash in her mind. She wanted him, yes. But she also wanted to feel... clean. Safe. Loved, and cherished.

  His hands cupped her face, caressing her cheeks as he kissed her. They slid lower and he pushed himself up on his elbows to make space. Soon, his fingers were working at the buttons of his shirt, the one she still wore. Hands caressed bared skin, exploring her softness and leaving tingling trails of fire in their wake.

  "I can't... can't erase what happened," he whispered sadly, fingers tracing lines of fire on her body. "But I can help with your wounds." He smiled a little as her pulse quickened, the blood surging through her veins and arteries. Her skin flushed as capillaries dilated and cells quickened. "I want you to enjoy this, Kaydia."

  He kissed her again, heat and electricity seeming to flow from his lips to hers. His hands skimmed the sides if her breasts and over her shoulders, easing his shirt from her slender frame, and the sensations of tingling flame followed them. "I love you, Kaydia," he murmured, nipping her throat. "So tell me, if you need to stop."

  “I love you too.” The confession seemed as if it should have meant more, but after everything that happened, it was inevitable. It was true before either had said the words. “Which is why I don’t want you to stop.” She tugged at his shirt, tugged it until she freed him. Because the feel of his skin against hers pushed back against the memory of the pirates. His touch, gentle and sensual, replaced the cruelty. His love could drive away her fear and shame. In his arms, she wasn’t helpless or weak or scared. She was whole, and safe.

  Quentin made a low, rumbling sound of approval as her hands roamed his bare back. She pulled him into another kiss, but he resisted. Instead, he pushed himself up so he could see her eyes, and he looked deep into them.

  "I love you, Kaydia," he breathed, letting her drown in the sapphire pools of his eyes. "I love you, and I want to make love to you. I want to spend hours worshipping you, and adoring you, and exploring you." He grinned. "And yes, I want to fuck you until you can't even remember your own name."

  His expression softened, love and concern in his eyes as he stroked her cheek. "I love you," he repeated. "And I can sense your fear –one of the curses of loving a psion, I suppose." He kissed her, gently. "I love you. And I will never hurt you. And, if you're not ready...?"

  Another gentle kiss. "Then I can hold you, and I can love you, and I can wait until you are." His thumb caressed her cheekbone. "You don't have to do anything, Kaydia. Not if you don't want to."

  “I need to be out of my own head, for a little while,” she assured him, managing a smile. A single, warm tear slid from her eye, and he brushed it away with his thumb. She pulled his head closer to hers, until their foreheads touched, and her nose slid against his. “I need this. I need us.” Another kiss brought understanding and desire, and she shimmied out of her pants.

  He unclasped her bra as she arched beneath him, shoving and kicking his own pants off. It was tossed aside, leaving nothing between them save heat and desire. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, and she drank deep from his lips. "Love me," she whispered, her thoughts wrapping around his own.

  He pushed her into the mattress, his tongue filling her mouth as he thrust slowly, deliberately into her slick heat. "Always," he moaned, filling her with slow, careful strokes. "Always, Kaydia. Always."

  He melted into her body, slipping slowly into her softness. Reprieve drew a sigh from her lips as she took every inch of him. Their eyes met when their lips didn’t, hers wide as emotions passed between them, until it was easy to confuse his love for her for self-love. Each gentle stroke diminished the shame and fear, replacing it with completion and acceptance.

  “Quentin.” His name was a shuddered cry as he sank completely into her. Once more, she felt him, through her skin and his, felt her body enveloping him perfectly. Love making might have taken a calmer tone this evening, but the slower pace amplified everything. Muscles like molten silk clenched him, caressing his length with each stroke. He was a sanctuary for her, against everything that had happened, and everything that might happen.

  "Kaydia!" he called out, her name joining his as he moved within her. She moved against him, moved with him, surrounding and embracing him with arms and body and mind. Their pleasure and desire and need flowed together, mingling like the tides until she no longer knew or cared where hers ended and his began.

  She was an assassin. He was a Justiciar. She was darkness, with an inner core of light that had never been destroyed despite her fears. He was light, with an inner core of darkness that troubled him no matter how much he fought it. But together, they were more, much more, then they were apart.

  She called his name again and again, and her love and pleasure burst in his mind as it coursed through her body. He had wanted to last longer, make love to her for hours, but he couldn't hold back as her body and mind trembled around his. He called her name as well, neither of them sure if he gave it voice or simply poured it out as the focus of his love as his own orgasm flowed into and merged with hers.

  Finally, trembling and spent, she found his lips with hers. Her lips with his? Lost in the sharing, she wasn't entirely certain where she ended and he began. So she kissed him, reveling in the feel of blood surging through winded bodies and skin slick with sweat and desire.

  Lying in Quentin’s arms, filled with his love and compassion, allowed Kaydia a moment of peace for the first time in many days. The emptiness within her wasn’t as all-consuming as he lent her strength. Their bodies entangled, Kaydia couldn’t help the way she clung to him, and for his part, Quentin held her just as close. For a few hours, she felt safe in his arms.

  Assault

  Peace could never last, though. A couple hours rest was all she got before her body beg
an demanding more Inertia. Even in the dim morning light, the brightness was excruciating, sharp stabbing pain that entered through her eyes and lashed her brain. Blindly, she groped towards the bathroom, stumbling towards the toilet to let the nausea out. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she vomited up whatever she had left in her stomach, and then gagged on the bile that remained. But none of that compared to the hallucinations.

  Quentin can’t protect you now. He can’t protect you while we live in your memories. And you’ll never outrun our grasp.

  Her would-be rapists stood behind her, mocking her relentlessly, those smug smiles mirrored on their lips. All Kaydia could do was cover her ears and eyes, rocking in a ball on the floor.

  ***

  Quentin vaulted out of bed at the first sounds of Kaydia's distress. "Are you all right?" he called, hammering at the door of the bathroom. "Kaydia? Are you all right?" It was an inane question. He knew it as soon as he asked it. But he also recognized it as a very human question. The sort of thing you said because it showed you were concerned. He gave her a moment, then pushed the door open.

  The room reeked of bile and acid and suffering and fear. Kaydia was curled in a ball on the floor, hands over her ears and rocking and weeping. His thoughts caressed hers gently, confirming what he thought was going on. Carefully, he lifted her up and held her close. "You're safe, Kaydia," he murmured, carrying her back into the bedroom. "They can’t hurt you. Not anymore.”

  He laid her back down on the bed and drew the covers up over her. "It doesn't change who you are, Kaydia. Not to me." His fingers traced her cheek. "Not to me."

  With a sigh he centered himself and opened his perceptions. Through psionics, he could see the imbalances in her body caused by the drug. Hormones and chemicals out of balance as her metabolism struggled with the loss of the drug, and the muscle twitches and nerve misfiring that came in their wake. "I'm sorry," he said as his fingers began to trace the energy fields of her body. "This will actually feel worse, for a time. But it will speed your recovery..."