by Robyn Bachar
“I’m an idiot.”
“I believe ignorant ass would be most accurate, but idiot will suffice,” Andee replied cautiously. Andee leaned into Malcolm’s comforting embrace as she studied Galen. Galen’s energy was heavy with sorrow, as though drenched with remorse. Andee patted Malcolm’s hand. “I believe you were about to tell us a long story, a’mhain.”
“Oh. Right. I think I was born a slave,” Malcolm began. “I don’t really remember anything else. I have these images of blue sky and green countryside, and hearing a woman call my name, but they’re kind of fuzzy, like a file that’s gotten corrupted. The oldest memory I have is living in the dorm with the other kids.”
“Other children?” Andee said.
Malcolm nodded. “The Collective buys them young, to start training as soon as possible. They’re not all indexers or data miners. Most of the kids end up as servants—household staff. But the ones who have a gift with accessing data enter miner or handler training, like me. I was breaking into systems when I was ten. Kai showed up when I was twelve. She’d been taken from a slaver raid on a transport, so she had a home once, and family. Kai was hell-bent on getting back to them, which was why she was always trying to escape.”
“Did you never try to escape?” Galen grasped Malcolm’s free hand, so that he held one and Andee held the other. It seemed to soothe Malcolm, or at least prevent him from further fraying the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, and Andee closed her eyes for a moment to savor the peaceful connection between the three of them.
“Not really. Not on my own, at least. Where would I go?” He shrugged and continued. “Kai was brilliant. Strong. We all loved her instantly. She had this sassy way of looking at you when her hair fell across her face, like she was plotting something devious but was clever enough to hide it. I don’t know why she loved me when she could have had any of the boys. But she was the first person to look after me, to care about me. Kai wanted me to escape with her, and that last time we made it all the way to a shuttle before they caught us. That was when the Archivist killed her. She knew too much about the Collective to risk her getting away.”
Andee and Galen expressed their sympathy, and Malcolm continued. “Alexi…it’s so weird that he’s gone. I’m not used to it.”
“How long were you together?” Andee asked.
“Three years. I think that’s why…” Malcolm blushed and cleared his throat. “Nev, one of our bartenders, called it the ‘three year itch’. Once you’ve been together three years, you either work it out and stay together or you break up. We were used to the routine, but I don’t think he would’ve stayed. I needed Alexi, but he didn’t need me. You need me.”
Andee remained silent as she read Malcolm’s longing and Galen’s turmoil over it. She had already expressed her desire to Malcolm, and now Galen needed to voice his. Galen had the greatest obstacle to overcome in admitting and accepting his desire.
“Yes, we do.” Galen sat up and wrapped his arms around them. “I want you to stay. Both of you. I don’t care what anyone else says. You were right when you said that Cyprena needs to change. Lord Bildanen wants us to return to what we were. I want us to evolve, and Cy’ren equality is first on the list of things that need to happen.”
“Equality is good,” Malcolm agreed. “At some point, after we save the galaxy and everything, I’d like to contact Alexi’s family. Maybe the Alliance can give them asylum, since Alexi died helping me locate the Lazarus weapon. And I’d like to find Kai’s family and let them know what happened to her.”
“We’ll speak to Captain Hawke about it,” Andee assured him. “We should clean up for our meeting with the Alliance so we can make a good first impression.”
“I’ll go first.” Malcolm leapt to his feet. “That way you can have a moment alone so Galen can do a proper apology with serious groveling.”
He retreated, and Galen and Andee studied each other in a moment of awkward silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was awful to you. I attacked you, and you still defended me. Will you forgive me?”
“I will forgive you for overreacting, if you will forgive me for not telling you about my condition before we were mated.”
“What is your condition, precisely?” Galen asked. “Everything I know about liathlinn is legend. What is the truth?”
“Liathlinn don’t eat souls. That was a lie created to motivate the populace to turn against us,” she explained. “We read emotions like an aleithir, but use that information in combat. Like when I sensed our attackers approaching in the Tower.”
“But you do feed on emotions? Like lust and pleasure?”
Andee shook her head. “Feed, no. It’s not like ingesting food or drink. But the experience can be addicting. I…overindulged in spending time in the shadow sword barracks and participating in victory celebrations. But I didn’t want to live that life anymore. I thought I could leave being a liathlinn behind me, and just be your mate. To use my abilities to aid you in negotiation, not assassination. When you volunteered for this mission, I wanted to protect you, and I knew that I might need to kill to do that. If you can’t accept that, then we should discuss annulling our match.”
“No.” Galen rose, drew her into his arms and nuzzled her mate marks before gazing into her eyes. “You are mine, and I won’t be parted from you. I should have trusted you. I was afraid, and I’m not going to live in fear anymore. All my life I’ve been trying to be the lord my father was, instead of being myself. But I can never live up to the memory of a martyr, and I’m not going to try anymore. From now on I’m going to lead my house my way, and I want you at my side to do that. Both of you.”
Andee was still, afraid that even a breath would shatter the delicate moment. She wanted to believe him, to wear his sincerity like armor against the attacks that would follow when it became known that the lady of House Sunsinger was a liathlinn.
“This will be a difficult path,” she said slowly. “Too many people know my secret now. Someone is bound to let it slip, and the people will turn against me, and you.”
“Then it is fortunate I have two strong mates. Malcolm and I will support you. This is our chance to change Cyprena.”
Andee smiled and blushed, and Galen kissed away her uncertainty, melting her hesitation with the bright heat of his longing. He wanted forgiveness—he wanted a life with her. How long had it been since anyone had wanted anything from her aside from death and intrigue?
“I want to be able to protect you as you protect me,” he said. “Will you teach me how to defend myself? And perhaps Malcolm as well. We should stand together in battle, as equals.”
“Yes.” Andee kissed him again and then grinned. “Though you’ll need years of practice to fight as well as I do.”
Galen smiled. “I’m willing to do the research, if you’re willing to teach me.”
Chapter Twelve
The Talon II flew into a battle group of Alliance ships that were so pristine that Malcolm wondered if they had just left the shipyard. Maybe they had. He had no idea how many ships the Alliance had, other than “a lot”, but they’d taken a hit to their numbers when the Lazarus virus had run amok through the last battle group they were supposed to meet.
Malcolm had never been in Alliance space, not that he remembered, at least. The Collective thought they were bad for business, because the corruption commonplace in the Syndicate didn’t happen in the Alliance. Well, it probably happened, Malcolm reasoned. He refused to believe that anyone could be as righteous and upstanding as the Alliance seemed to be. They had to be better at keeping their scandals quiet, or at least not interesting enough that information brokers like the Collective weren’t curious.
“What do you do in the Alliance?” Malcolm asked Captain Hawke. They were waiting for the big meeting to begin, so he wasn’t interrupting anything yet. A slight antiseptic tang hung in the air as though someone had just finished sanitizing the floors, and Alliance officers milled about the auditorium looking uncomfortable in their
starched uniforms. The warship was enormous, and Malcolm wondered what they usually used this space for. Training? Vid night?
“I was with special forces,” she replied.
Malcolm shook his head. “No, I mean, what do the people do? For entertainment? There’s no slavery, no stim trade, no brothels—”
“No, there are brothels, but sex workers are registered and the trade is regulated, like any other profession.”
“Huh.” He wondered what Bryn and Sabine would think of that, and made a note to ask them someday. Malcolm had never really enjoyed going to the brothel. It was more Alexi’s thing. “That doesn’t answer my question, though.”
Captain Hawke shrugged. “It depends on the world, I suppose. There are over a hundred of them in the Alliance, and they’re all different. Tali and I were raised on Athenia, which was mostly agro-centered. Lots of vineyards outside of the base.”
“Are you going to go back there?” Malcolm looked to her mate Mordackai, wondering what the shadow sword would do on a world focused on agriculture. He didn’t seem like a farmer.
“For long visits,” the Cy’ren said, “after the baby is born. Tali’s been talking about spending half a year there and the other half on Cyprena.”
Galen frowned. “She hasn’t mentioned that to me.”
“Because she doesn’t want to upset you,” Captain Hawke said.
Andee patted Galen’s knee and then took his hand in hers. “Don’t worry, my lord. You’ll have plenty of time to spend with your sister and your niece. And, gods willing, you’ll have your own children to chase after soon.”
Malcolm smiled as Galen blushed and cleared his throat. He wondered what Galen and Andee’s children would look like, imagining a pudgy toddler with Andee’s green eyes and Galen’s white curls—well, Galen would have curls if his hair wasn’t cut at that awkward length. Maybe he thought curls didn’t inspire leadership. Malcolm had never considered having children, because as long as he was the Archivist’s property any children he had would be owned by his master as well. He wouldn’t have biological children if he stayed with Galen and Andee—Cy’ren and humans were close genetically, but not enough to allow them to interbreed. Malcolm opened his mouth and shut it again before he slipped and asked if Captain Hawke minded that fact of her relationship with her mates. It was too personal a question for a big meeting like this.
The lights dimmed twice and the Alliance personnel who had been milling about scrambled for their seats. The group from the Talon II was seated near the front, so Malcolm didn’t need to worry about tripping over himself in front of the Alliance. He already felt out of place enough as it was.
The room quieted, and an older man with silver hair entered. His tan skin was creased and lined like old leather, and his uniform jacket was covered with rows of rank insignia that Malcolm didn’t understand, other than to assume that the man was more important than anyone else in the room because he had the most accessories. He thought he heard “admiral” whispered behind him. Captain Hawke stiffened as the admiral began to speak.
The vid screen and a section of the floor behind him glowed to life, and a three-dimensional image of a solar system formed. “The facility housing the Lazarus virus is in the deGrasse system, on the largest moon orbiting the third planet,” the admiral began. “It’s an advanced pharmaceutical production facility currently guarded by a fleet of mercenary ships. They have superior numbers, but we have the advantage of training and combat experience. The difficulty lies with the facility’s defenses. The Eppes installed a top-of-the-line anti-aircraft defense network to protect their investment. We will need to bring their defenses down before we can take possession of the facility.”
The image shifted, zooming in to the focus on the facility itself. A shifting dome of glowing energy enclosed the cluster of buildings, surrounded by towers and a high wall that blistered with laser cannons and missile launchers. The admiral began describing the battle plan, which involved a ground assault on the facility while the ships engaged the mercenary fleet in space. War games had never appealed to Malcolm—he preferred games with complex dialogue options that told epic tales. He leaned over and tugged on Captain Hawke’s sleeve.
“I could hack the defenses. I think. It’s just another computer system,” Malcolm whispered.
She studied him, seeming to consider the idea, and as silence hung heavy in the room Malcolm realized the admiral had stopped talking.
“Do you have something to add, Captain?” the man asked.
Whoops. Malcolm swallowed hard, but Captain Hawke seemed unaffected.
“Indexer de la Cruz believes he may be able to infiltrate the data network and bring the defenses down that way,” Captain Hawke said. Malcolm bit his tongue, because he technically wasn’t a de la Cruz—it was the Archivist’s name, not his. If he had a family name he didn’t remember it.
The admiral shook his head. “It’s an independent system. It can only be shut down locally, from within the facility.”
“We could go with the ground team, like we did on Argent,” Malcolm replied.
His brow furrowed, and then the admiral inclined his head with a slight nod. “I will take that into account.”
Malcolm’s face burned with a fiery blush as he ducked his head and stared down at his hands, picking at his sleeves. Andee grabbed one of his hands and held it in her lap before he accidentally unraveled an entire sleeve.
When the admiral finished elaborating his plans the lights came up, and the Alliance personnel were dismissed and began to file out of the room. Captain Hawke rose but stood at attention, and Captain Spenser joined her as the admiral approached.
The admiral nodded to Captain Hawke, then peered past her at the Cy’ren behind her. “Which one is your husband?”
“Mate, Papá. The proper term is mate,” she corrected.
“The proper term is pirate,” the admiral replied. “He stole my only child and my goddaughter without so much as a vid mail asking for my blessing.”
“Oh. Admiral Hawke,” Malcolm blurted. “Is everyone in your family in the military?”
“More or less,” she replied. Captain Hawke dragged Mordackai forward and took his arm. “Papá, this is Dack. Be nice to him.”
The admiral snorted. “I’m not the one you have to worry about. Your mother is arranging a firing squad for him.”
Captain Spenser spoke up. “I believe my wife is aiding that endeavor. If you want a pardon, you’ll have to arrange a proper wedding on Athenia.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Captain Hawke said.
“The least you can do is let your mamá dance at your wedding.” Admiral Hawke turned a stern eye on his daughter, and she sighed.
“We can discuss that another time. Papá, this is Tali’s brother, Lord Degalen Fairren, and his mate, Lady Andelynn,” she introduced.
Malcolm watched the pair step forward, taken by the thought that Fairren was a nice name. He wouldn’t mind being Malcolm Fairren…
“Mates,” Galen blurted. He cleared his throat as his face flushed. “Indexer de la Cruz has done us the honor of agreeing to stay with us on a permanent basis.”
Andee turned and beckoned Malcolm to her side, and he took her hand again. Guess that made it official.
Admiral Hawke smiled. “Congratulations. I can see the resemblance between you and Talena, Lord Degalen. I’m glad that Tali found her biological family. Though perhaps I should be welcoming you to our family now.” He looked from Carmen to Dack with a dry expression.
“To the Hawke family, or to the Alliance?” Galen replied.
“Both, I hope, if this mission is successful.” Admiral Hawke turned to Malcolm. “You are the indexer who has been providing us with intelligence on the Eppes?”
“Yes, sir,” Malcolm said.
“Good. Would you be willing to speak with a few of my techs about your suggestion?”
Malcolm looked to Galen, panicked, and Andee answered for him. “Of course. Malcolm is a
data miner, and Lord Degalen has been acting as his handler. May the three of us speak with your techs?”
His shoulders slumped with relief—Andee was really good at this.
“Yes, of course.”
“Would it also be possible to use your target range?” Andee asked. “My mates have expressed an interest in learning to handle firearms. If they are to be part of the ground team, they should have some basic combat training.”
“You didn’t have self-defense training?” Captain Hawke asked Galen.
Commander Soth cleared his throat. “Lord Degalen preferred to leave matters of his personal security in the hands of House Sunsinger’s shadow swords, in favor of concentrating on academic pursuits.”
It was a very polite way to put that Galen obviously cut his classes to spend time in the archives instead. Malcolm understood.
“I see.” Admiral Hawke nodded curtly. “I will have an officer accompany you. Our facilities are at your disposal.”
∆∆∆
Andee steered her mates through meeting with the Alliance techs, and they were both quickly in their element discussing data searches and information networks. Their comfort soon evaporated when they moved on to the targeting range, and Andee and a member of the ship’s security team began teaching them the basics of firing a laser pistol. Malcolm not only missed the target but somehow managed to destroy the mechanism displaying the targets at the end of the range, much to the confused amazement of the Alliance crew present.
The Talon II was docked within the Alliance’s warship, so it was a quick trip to return to their quarters. They had been offered accommodations aboard the Havana, but they had agreed to stay aboard the Talon II. The setting was familiar and private.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have a gun on the mission,” Malcolm said once they returned to their quarters.
Galen paused, looking from Malcolm to Andee, and a flood of emotions poured over her—Galen’s fear of losing them, of all of them dying in battle, and the tenuous bloom of his love for them. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
