by Vi Voxley
Pain, unlike the cold, didn't show itself so blatantly. At least it hadn't done it so far, but now the surges of chilling torture shot through her more powerfully than before.
Alona pushed the crowd aside gently to make its way to her. The levity of the moment was so overwhelming that the Brions barely noticed the android.
Naima stepped away from Braen, giving room to his ardent admirers. The look on Alona's face wasn't promising, but the android said nothing, nodding to signal they should go and find someplace more private to speak.
Not promising at all.
They slipped out of the workshop, walking on until they reached a small, private corner.
At first, the darkness of the Benevolent had bothered Naima. Driven her mad, more like. Now, her eyes had gotten used to the everlasting dusk and to her astounded disbelief, she'd found that the gigantic warship was full of surprises. The most pleasant one, after Braen of course, were the little nooks, hidden behind walls, away from large corridors and hallways.
Kerven had peeled off from the crowd along with them, keeping at a reasonable distance to allow them some privacy. Though he clearly did not trust the android, he’d been given his commands and he stuck to them.
They sat down on a low ledge resting against one of the huge screens that seemed to be on every outer wall. Although there was a ton of metal between them and open space, Naima could almost believe she was separated from the vast emptiness by a thin sheet of glass.
With only stars to offer them company, the android took her hands into its own. Naima let it without question, anticipating what this was all about.
"What are you doing, precisely?" she asked regardless. "If you detect something, I want to know."
"I'm taking your pulse," Alona said, not taking its eyes off her hands. "And measuring it against your body temperature. Should I go on?"
"Of course," Naima urged the android. "I want to know."
Alona allowed itself a small smile, lifting its eyes to meet her gaze for the first time since they'd left the workshop.
"Do you?" the android asked. "You told me once before Terrans didn't always prefer the truth."
Naima snorted.
"That is fair. But where my health is concerned, I really do."
"Very well," Alona said.
Naima caught the moment when the smile fell from the android's pale face.
Before it could explain anything, Braen stepped into the small hall. The newly forged blade was strapped to his back. Naima could make out the glow of the lifestone under the lights of his valor squares. They were dark now, resembling the shadows the general cast when he was furious, but the look on his face was anything but mad.
He’d left his posse to discuss the weapon amongst themselves. Braen came closer, observing them with silent curiosity.
"What is going on here?" he demanded then. "Is there something wrong with my gesha?"
Alona didn't answer at once. That was all the confirmation Naima needed, in a way. She sighed deeply, pulling her hands from the android's grip. Alona rose, taking a step back from Braen.
"I was asking Miss Jones if she wanted to hear my opinion, General. I would ask you the same."
"By the tone of your voice, I assume it's not something I want to hear," Braen replied, his deep voice resembling the growling way he'd spoken to the android during their first meeting.
"No," Alona said, nodding.
Naima finally stood, holding the blanket around her shoulders. For a whole week, she'd resisted the urge to act like a sickly child, burying herself into whatever offered her warmth and comfort. Now that Braen knew and the android could, apparently, tell on its own, there was no reason to hide.
"Tell us," Naima said calmly. "The truth is always better than guessing. I bet I can conjure up a worse scenario in my head if you keep me waiting."
"I should run more tests," Alona tried, but Naima wasn't about to let the AI get away so easily.
"Your guess is good enough for us," Naima assured it. "Right?"
The general nodded grimly, hands crossed over his wide chest, looking every bit as threatening as he was rumored to be. For a second, Naima feared for Alona's safety, but in her heart she knew Braen would never hurt her like that, to kill her only friend.
"Very well," Alona said. "Over the past days, I've sensed that Miss Jones' health is quickly deteriorating."
"We know that," Braen cut in. "The paladin wrote to me, saying Audrey Price is ill as well. It's the Fearless, like I've told my gesha. The time is almost up. It's trying to hurt her as much as possible to punish me."
"What?" Naima burst out, turning to the general. "Why didn't you tell me Audrey was going through the same thing?"
"I didn't want to add another burden to the pain you carry already," Braen said simply, his voice level. "Tieran wrote to me out of concern. I don't think he's told Audrey either. Both of you need to rest and be strong now. I need you to know that it's nothing we can't fix.
“After I kill the Fearless, you will be better. Do you agree?"
With the last sentence, the general turned to Alona, who gave him a small nod. Naima's heart was racing in the meanwhile, finally getting the confirmation that she truly was experiencing another attack by the Fearless. One that was much longer and sneakier than the previous one, bypassing even the glove to an extent.
The glove didn't hold it off as much as she would have liked. There was something utterly terrifying about that. Palians had warned them it was nothing more than a quickly fixed prototype, but she'd hoped they had more time before the defenses failed. Now she felt exposed again, like the Fearless was free to ravage her mind anytime it pleased.
"I think so, yes," Alona was saying. "Everyone is connected in this. If you say the other Terran female is experiencing the same, we can safely assume it is the enemy. With its death, I believe they will both be fine again, but that is not my concern."
"Then what is?" Braen asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.
"What happens if you fail, commander?" the android said.
Naima was expecting Braen to cut Alona's head off so much she nearly missed the implications of the AI's words. Right on cue, the general growled at Alona. The android wasn't going to back down.
"With respect, General, we have to consider that as a viable possibility," Alona repeated with conviction. "If it comforts you, I think you have a better chance than anyone else in the galaxy. You know the Fearless, you've fought it before.
“Armed with this weapon, you stand a good chance, yet it's not a certainty. Please understand. I am not programmed to rule out options. Will you let me continue? This is important."
Braen bristled. Naima reached out her hand from under her blanket and hooked it around his arm. At once, the general's attention shifted to her and the look in his eyes became loving and warm, the strain slowly dissipating. Concerned, too.
"I need to hear this," Naima whispered.
The general clearly didn't, considering how he had resisted admitting the possible outcome from the very start, but he relented for her sake. With a curt nod, he gave permission to Alona to go on.
"Miss Jones is under attack from the Fearless," the android began. "She has been for a while now and the glove is not able to shield her from all of it. At our current speed, I am confident we can reach the enemy before it breaks through again.
“I am not saying this to depress you, Miss Jones, but I don't think I will be able to save you this time. We are so much closer to the source and it is very powerful."
"Understood," Naima said, trying to sound braver than she felt. "Go on. What does that mean for me?"
"It means–" Alona said, trailing off before starting again. "It means I think you're dying. Your body is not able to resist the Fearless much longer. Right now, it can't physically hurt you. It can only channel some of it to you.
“The cold, the doubt. They're not powerful enough to kill you with one strike, but they're slowly eroding you away. The speed of it is wor
rying. You have a week, maybe more."
A week.
Braen's arms closed around her before Naima could fall, her knees going weak as she desperately tried to remember how many days there were in a week. Short, short days to spend with the man she loved, the threat of freezing to death hanging above her head every second of the way.
This wasn't how I thought it would end.
Worst of all, her death would mean the death of her child as well. It was far too early in the pregnancy to give the child any chance of survival, even considering modern medicine.
"It's possible I can slow it down some more–" Alona went on, but the general stopped her.
"That's enough," he ordered with such force the android quieted like it had forgotten how to speak. "Nothing will happen to you, Naima. We will be there long before a week is done and the Fearless will die by my hand."
She nodded mutely, still counting days. All of a sudden, the long years of her life seemed wasted. Even the weeks she'd spent fighting with Braen haunted her now. In her dreams, Naima had imagined they had a whole lifetime to spend together.
Lazy, happy mornings together, waking up to cuddle into the general's arms and let him kiss her slowly and teasingly. Nights filled with passion, screaming his name to the stars. Days of joy and wonder, discovering how good it actually was to love and be loved without reservations. Playing with their child and teaching him or her everything both Naima and Braen loved.
"This is what I meant by saying possibility," Alona said, showing either a strong resolve or a very uncharacteristic desire to die.
Funny, the more I get to know it, the more I think of Alona being destroyed as "dying".
"I only want you to understand that the cost of losing is terrible, General," the android stated. "Even if you are wounded, you can't hope for a rematch. If the Fearless escapes, there is no time to pursue. If you fail, commander, you will not get a second chance. Not for Naima."
In the silence that followed, Alona wisely took its leave, making sure to pass by the general quickly. Braen had come to tolerate it, but to Naima's eyes, he looked ready to murder the messenger.
She waited for him to say anything. For once it seemed that Braen was speechless. For all her attempts to stop the general from living in a future he hadn't achieved yet, it was the eeriest part of the whole mess for her. Especially when Braen pulled her into his arms, still silent.
"Tell me," she asked, whispering. "Promise me."
The general's arms around her tightened, making Naima feel warm for the first time that day, wrapped into the heat of the blanket and the embrace.
"I promise. I will claim this victory for both of us, because there is no more me without you."
Naima nodded, wrapping her hands around Braen's chest, or at least as far as her hands could reach.
"And no me without you," she replied.
They stayed like that for a long time, the happiness of the workshop long forgotten. There were no more words, no hurried sex or forced conversations.
If those were to be her final days with Braen, Naima couldn't think of a better way to spend them than in his arms. He was right beside her and she was intent to keep the general there until the final battle began.
Braen had been right, in the end. She'd set out to save the galaxy, but on the way, it had turned into a personal battle. Above everything else, Naima wanted the general to return to her and their baby.
The stakes had been high before, but now her life literally depended upon the outcome.
It was her or the Fearless. And there was no time to waste.
32
Braen
His gesha was dying.
The immensity of that hurt more deeply than any physical pain ever could. In his life, through all his many battles, the general had been wounded his fair share of times. Brions didn't look for easy opponents or wars that were won by default, simply because they stepped on the field. The only way to truly test a warrior's might was to match him against an enemy that was strong and capable.
Braen had had his ribs broken, his lungs collapsed, his skull cracked and nearly smashed in. The Fearless itself had started to digest him, for one. Brions healed fast, but the whole way back to Briolina, he'd been as good as useless. It was a very odd feeling for a Brion, who were always striving to be at their top form.
He knew pain intimately.
Alona's words cut like a rusted blade, salt in a torn wound.
He was a warrior. In battle, the value of a good strike was gaining an advantage over the enemy. The prize of every action was winning. Now everything had changed.
From that moment until he faced the Fearless, his choices determined Naima's life. One wrong move and she'd be doomed to die. Even time itself was against him, because if the monster escaped, her demise was just as inevitable.
The pressure he experienced was enormous. The whole galaxy was looking to him to rid them of the ancient evil, but to him, only the look in Naima's eyes mattered.
Judging by the smile on her lips, she was showing more courage than he was.
Well, this can't stand, Braen decided, unable to stay sour when the light of his life was with him.
He answered with a small smirk of his own, looking at her sitting on their bed, the soft blanket she seemed to love so much on her lap.
They were on Darius' doorstep and Braen knew that the pain Naima had to endure had reached its peak. The only thing he couldn't understand was why she looked better than she had a few days ago when Alona told them the bad news.
"You look at me like I've done something wrong," his gesha pointed out.
"Never," Braen said at once. "I've told you that before. You can't do wrong by me."
"Then what is it?" she asked.
The general hesitated for a second, wondering if he should voice his concerns.
"I'm trying to figure out whether you would tell me if the enemy ceased the attack on your mind," he replied. "There was a moment a few days back when you looked pale as a ghost, like you had already frozen. Now you're smiling and there is color on your cheeks. Yet when I touch you, your skin is still colder than it should be."
Naima nodded, shrugging with a small smile on her lips.
"I look better because I feel better, I think," she said. "Audrey warned us, didn't she? That my health is very directly linked to my mental state and I've really been trying to focus on the positive. I mean, we're here at last. Everything is ready. I trust you.
“After Alona talked to us, I took your advice and channeled all my thoughts elsewhere. I've been keeping myself warm and working out whenever I can to maintain that. It helps. It makes me feel like I can fight back."
He nodded slowly. His gesha truly was a marvel.
"The Uthers are coming aboard soon," Braen said in return. "Are you sure you're up for this? We have come to the Fearless' hideout. No turning back from here. If you want to stay on the Benevolent, I would make sure you're well protected."
"What did I just say?" Naima asked, standing up and walking over to him to lay her hands gently on the breastplate of his armor. "I am happy. Honestly. All that waiting and worrying was driving me out of my mind, but now we're here. It's on.
“Maybe the Brion battle readiness is contagious or something, but I'm glad I have something to do. If you make me stay behind and wait for news, I'll go crazy."
Braen snorted.
"I understand," he said. "If someone made me blind and deaf to the battle... I remember the day my old general told me to stay behind when he went to fight the Fearless. The irritation was almost too much to bear.
“To see them all board the dropships, knowing they were walking to their end – I wanted to tear the walls down and jump right off the ship to be on the surface alongside my brothers."
Naima's gaze was a little sad as she pressed herself tightly against him.
"You've never talked about that before. It must have been terrible. What was your old general like?"
"He was a goo
d man," Braen said. "General Valden. A great warrior, one of the best tacticians in living memory. All that didn't stop him from meeting his fate between the fangs of the Fearless."
"You will not end up like that," Naima told him with force. "You of all people should know that."
"I do," Braen smiled. "I don't doubt my victory. I would be a lousy Brion, and a general, if I did. It's you I'm worried about. Down there, on the planet, I won't be able to protect you."
"I have Alona," Naima said. "And Kerven and half your army on speed dial. You can't think of me tomorrow. You're saving us all, me included, by focusing only on the Fearless."
She was right, of course. Braen knew that, but it was impossible not to put her first in his heart, not to consider all the things that threatened her down on the icy planet.
"Come," he commanded, the forcefulness creeping back into his voice as he prepared to meet with his war council. "The briefing is about to begin."
Naima nodded, taking his arm and letting him lead her out of her – their, since he hadn't actually set foot in his own rooms for weeks – quarters.
"You won't take that?" he asked, pointing to the blanket she'd left lying on the bed.
"No," Naima said. "No matter what happens, I will go through this fight as myself, not some sickly girl wrapped in a furry cocoon. Even if it is a great furry cocoon. The Fearless can't take my pride from me."
Braen grinned, pressing a kiss on her lips, loving the feeling of her giggling at that.
War council, Braen thought with a grin. Who would have thought I'd see the day?
The question was just, considering that the two species represented in the room – other than Naima for Terrans – were the least likely people in the galaxy to make alliances or work together with others.
Uthers because they couldn't find common ground with the rest of the Union, and Brions because they simply didn't need it.
