"I appreciate it."
Zellen saluted her, then turned a discriminate eye to Jullien. "You do know you're going to have to finally give up your hobo style, right?"
"What is it with you people and how I dress? Damn, you're worse than the snobs at court." Pulling his glasses down to the bridge of his nose so that he could peer over them, he cocked his hip and hand in the perfect gesture of a snotty fop. "What is that? Last season's Yetur and Babineaux? Have you fallen into penury or are trying to start a new trend of plebeian workaday wannabe haute couture?"
Ushara laughed while Zellen rolled his eyes. "You're way too convincing in that role, love."
"Yeah." Jullien scowled and pushed the glasses back into place. "Having bad psychotic flashbacks. Don't ever let me do that again."
"And her brother isn't going to let you on his ship looking like some hobo they rolled or conscripted. We have a rep to maintain. And vagrants aren't frightening."
Jullien scoffed. "I beg to differ. I think I carry psycho off quite nicely in my own clothes. I'll have you know I've caused some pretty tough characters to cross the street at my approach."
"I'll bet you have, but more from a fear of your stench than anything else."
"Perhaps, but they still blinked first and ran."
"All right, boys." Ushara broke them apart before their verbal sparring could take on a more sinister bend. "We do have work to get to. And Zellen's correct--to fly as Tavali, battlesuits are necessary. You'll be required to purchase and maintain at least five soft and two hardsuits that are up to Code."
"Really?" Jullien asked.
They both nodded.
"And you have to submit them and the rest of your equipment to inspection every six months to make sure that they're of the right quality, colors, and standards as determined by the UTC."
Jullien groaned.
"I'll get him a manual, Admiral."
"Thanks, Z."
Curling his lip, Jullien scratched at his brow. "Damn, y'all tough."
She shrugged. "Tavali is an honor that comes with obligation. No one is entitled to anything. You earn the right to bear our ranks and badges. The whole purpose of the next two years is to see if you have what it takes to be a fully vested citizen of our Nation."
"But if you make the cut," Zellen said earnestly. "You'll never be without family again. A Tavali who commits a crime against another of our own is hunted with extreme prejudice and brutally executed. You don't ever want to be on the wrong end of our justice."
Jullien had to bite his tongue at the blind optimism Zellen was too old to believe in. Surely, he had to know that it wasn't that simple. And that no one could be trusted so completely. Ushara's husband had been only one example of how easily someone could allow their hatred and jealousy to corrupt them.
And he'd grown up in a court filled with such yapping dogs who'd been eager to tear each other apart over every little scrap piece of meat or shoelace.
Petty creatures. Petty issues. He'd seen females poison one another because one wore a similar gown to a ball, or another had a younger spouse, or fewer facial wrinkles. Males who'd knifed each other to get Eriadne's favor, only to have her slit their throat a few weeks later because she didn't like the scent of his cologne.
How he wished he were making that up. And from what he'd seen, The Taveli were just as capable of corruption and brutal acts as anyone else. However one thing would always be true where Jullien was concerned ... "I don't betray anyone who doesn't slash my throat first. But if you come for me, all bets are off. No one kills me and lives."
Zellen snorted before he turned back toward Ushara. "Do you need anything else from me, Admiral?"
"No, thank you."
After he left, she faced Jullien and straightened his jacket for him. "You ready for this?"
"For what?"
"When you walk out that door, you're TNT. Tavali-in-Training. They will test you and haze you. Every member of Davel's crew will do their absolute best to try and break you over the next two years to see if you have what it takes to be Tavali. They'll be looking for any reason to deny you citizenship. You will have to prove absolute loyalty to captain and crew, no matter what. Above all, you'll have to prove loyalty to Nation. When you're Fetchyn or Tavalian, they mitigate some of the hazing."
"When you're what?"
"Related to someone who's already a citizen, which is why I wanted you listed as my husband. Without them knowing, I'm terrified of what they might do to you. You've no idea what I've seen them to do some of the cocks on crews."
While he appreciated her concern, he wasn't worried about it. "I was thrown into prison as the tahrs and grandson of the tadara who put the inmates there. I seriously doubt there's anything they could do to me worse than what I've already been through."
Ushara winced at those emotionless words that she knew masked unbelievable horrors in his past.
He brushed the hair back from her cheek. "Believe me, Ger Tarra, there's a reason I chewed through my wrists with my own fangs in an effort to kill myself."
She choked on a sob.
He tilted her chin up with his fingers and offered her a tender smile. "I will be fine so long as I'm away from you and Vasili, and none of my enemies know to look for you here. I'd rather they be chasing me while I'm on the move, anyway."
Nodding, she held him as she tried to imagine all the nightmares he refused to share with her. The ones that caused him to pace the floors at night when he thought she was still asleep. "I wish I could wrap you in a padded room where nothing bad could ever touch you again and keep you safe forever."
"Only if you join me there." He kissed her cheek as her link buzzed. "You have work to attend. As do I. I'll see you later."
Reluctantly, she released him.
He paused at the door to turn back toward her. "Don't forget Vasili has a practice test after school today. Do you want me to pick him up for you?"
"I'd totally forgotten. Yes, that would be incredibly helpful. Thank you."
Inclining his head, he slid out the door and pulled it closed. Ushara stood there for a moment, feeling his absence like a physical ache. How he'd come to be so important to her so quickly, she had no idea. Honestly, she should hate everything he stood for.
But she couldn't. Instead, all she wanted to do was protect and keep him safe from harm. It made no sense and yet she couldn't deny the need she had inside her.
Now she was going to have to tell her family and they were going to absolutely flip. While she'd shown a brave face to Jullien, the truth of how they were going to react terrified her.
She only hoped that they could find it in their hearts to understand and forgive. If not ...
This might have been the worst mistake of her life.
*
"Hey!"
Jullien paused at Zellen's sharp call.
"You forget your badges and manual access code."
"Sorry. Focused on other things." Jullien headed to his desk.
Zellen didn't hand them over. Rather he kept them in his lap and pinned a hard stare on him. "Why are your eyes white now? They weren't before."
Jullien pulled the glasses down to show him their real color.
"Titana rael."
He smirked. "Yeah, exactly, and I am."
Scowling, Zellen glanced to Ushara's door, then back to Jullien. "Well that settles my mind at least."
"How so?"
"I know you're not being a total self-serving bastard. My first thought when I saw the orders this morning. Then I had some doubts that you might be okay when you didn't want to use her name or let anyone know about the marriage. I guess she warned you what to expect by not letting her list you as her husband?"
"She did."
Still, he hesitated. "I almost feel bad doing this to you, darkheart. Davel runs an almost exclusive Fyreblood crew. They all got an axe to grind against your kind. Two of them have their eyes on the admiral. They find out that she's yours and they will gut you for her."<
"Anything else I need to know?"
He sat up and scribbled something on a piece of paper, then tore it and handed it to Jullien. "Take this to the local optometrist. She makes a contact lens that can mask stralen eyes. As long as she knows I sent you, she'll work with you off record and ask no questions. Keep that shit under wraps."
"Thanks."
Zellen nodded and handed him another slip that was already on the desk, filled out. "This is a line of credit at the TBX. They'll get you what you need to fly and won't jerk you around or add on anything that isn't absolutely necessary. It's in my name so you'll owe tithe to me for it. But don't worry, I won't charge you interest. I'll dock a straight five percent of your take until you pay off the balance."
"Why would you do that?"
"Sheila's my sister, and I know all the things you've done for her and my niece. She's going to be really sad to see you go, and I figure you can't be too bad if she got that attached to you."
Jullien smiled wistfully at the thought of having to turn in his notice. "Yeah, I'll miss her, too. She's a lot of fun to work with."
"Believe me when I say you are the only one who thinks that."
"Then they ought to get to know her. And don't worry. I won't leave her in a lurch. I'll get all my projects finished for her before we leave."
Zellen narrowed his one good eye at Jullien. "She said you already had her working almost eight weeks ahead of schedule."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't sleep much."
"And you don't log all your hours, either. According to her, you only charge her for one in three hours you actually work. You didn't know she knew about that, did you?"
Jullien fell silent.
Zellen let out a slow breath. "You are not what I thought you were when Ushara dragged your sorry ass onto our ship...." He handed the patches to Jullien. "Don't forget that you can't patch up unless you're in full Tavali sanctioned gear. If a Tavali asks if you're a cit, you can answer that you're a cock, candidate, CC, candy-ass, or TNT--those are the terms we use for those going through initiation. Don't call yourself Tavali yet or someone will cut your throat for it. And whatever you do, don't let any League or local LEO catch you with any Tavali paraphernalia on your body or in your possession as they are felonies and carry a death penalty in most systems."
"Trust me, that's the least of my concerns should I get caught by any LEO anywhere."
Zellen laughed. "I guess that's true." He held his hand out to Jullien. "Welcome aboard ... Dagger."
"Thanks."
"I'll call Sheila and let her know that you'll be a little late in to work. You should take care of your eyes and get some Tavali gear on before you head in. After yesterday, you don't need anymore drama on your record."
Jullien bowed to him. "Yes, Gur Tana. I'll see right to it." And with that, he headed out. But honestly, he hated the thoughts of changing his clothes. He'd just gotten comfortable with his new persona.
Now he was stepping into someone else. Another uncertain role.
Jullien reached for his link, then remembered he didn't have one. Crap. He couldn't access the manual without it. Maybe the TBX would have them there and he could pick a new one up without a scan that would alert bounty hunters and The League where he was.
But as he entered the optometrist's office, he had a weird feeling.
Like he was being watched.
Turning, he scanned the street.
No one was there. Yet the feeling persisted, and he'd been followed enough in his lifetime to know he wasn't paranoid. This was real.
Where are you, you bastard?
More to the point, who was it? How much of a threat were they to Ushara and Vasili?
Memories flashed through him like a strobe light and threatened to send him to his knees.
From the moment of his birth, he'd felt like he'd been standing in the middle of a killing field--with enemies rushing him from every side, trying to stab him through his heart. Many times they'd succeeded and he'd stumbled to the ground, but through it all, he'd forced himself to climb back to his feet.
No matter how hard the blow, no matter how much he'd wanted to lie down and die, he'd stubbornly refused to fall.
Indurari.
"You want me, bitch ... you better be prepared for war." Because the one truth that had remained constant, he would not go quietly to his grave. And the one thing he knew how to do was fight past his pain--to bite the hand that both fed him and bled him to the bone.
This time, he wasn't just protecting his own ass. He was protecting something far more precious to him.
And that made him deadlier than ever.
CHAPTER 13
"This is bullshit! I demand to see the Gorturnum HAP! Now!"
Standing in the main landing bay where Ushara had been summoned twenty minutes ago to deal with this lovely situation, she shook her head at Malys Venik. As the wife of Brax Venik, the High Admiral of the Porturnum Tavali and a Qillaq warrior, this creature was a handful. She'd come in with a few of her husband's ships that had been damaged in a League ambush. As such, Malys was demanding that Ushara turn over a dozen of the Gorturnum's fastest ships to her crews to get them home.
Yeah, like that would happen.
When the hottest pits of Tophet froze over.
While they were all Tavali, they were not that close a family and it didn't entitle Malys to Gorturnum ships that were personally owned by their crews or Trajen.
Not to mention, this blatant disregard for Ushara's rank and position was really beginning to piss her off, and it was taking everything she had not to resort to punching out the female for it. She was, after all, Pavakahira Andarion, and the urge to light this Qill on fire was hard to suppress. "I'm the VA in charge here, Commander Venik, and you will deal with me."
Tall and insanely gorgeous in her skintight red battlesuit, Malys raked a withering sneer down Ushara's body. "I don't deal with the second string, sweetie. Yerek? Move this little fluff out of my way."
When the giant mountain stepped forward at Malys's command, a deep, resonant voice rang out.
"Yerek, that would be a profoundly bad idea for you, that would have devastating consequences on your future health and mobility. Seriously, I suggest you retreat and take a coffee break."
Ushara had to bite back a smile at Jullien's cold, deadly tone that carried the full weight of his regal birth. That was the voice of a male used to commanding armies and being obeyed without fail. She glanced at him over her shoulder and then had to do a double-take as she caught sight not of the vagabond male she was used to seeing, but of a stunning stranger.
This wasn't the immaculate, haughty fop she'd seen in old media photos who'd been the tahrs of Andaria, or the adorable ragamuffin who'd won her heart. The male approaching them was barely recognizable.
Dressed black-on-black in a Tavali armstitch battlesuit with a long leather and suede coat, he was all lethal predator. And the flared colonial style looked good on him. Each side of the coat was tied back to show the presence of his custom silver-handled blasters. Not that he needed them to look tough with the deadly aura that surrounded him. It was enough to terrify anyone with an ounce of self-preservation.
His silver-trimmed holster matched the garrotte chain he wore around his left wrist and his new buckled boots. He now sported a pair of black leather fingerless gloves and a custom holster, as well as dark sunglasses that hid his eyes from them so that no one could tell where he was looking. An unnerving tactical advantage that was employed by League assassins.
The only thing left of the old Jullien was the long black scarf that he still wore around his neck, and his sexy, well-trimmed whiskers that he somehow managed to keep from ever becoming a full beard.
He was gorgeous and seductive, and she wasn't the only one who noticed.
In fact, the amount of attention that was on him now was beginning to anger her more than this current situation. Even Malys's features softened as a slow, appreciative smile spread across her face.
"Well, what have we here?" The smile faded as she saw Jullien's arm patches and she realized he held no real rank. "You dare threaten your superior with violence?"
Jullien snorted derisively. "He's not my superior in any way, and it's not a threat, mu tara. Rather an absolute promise of extreme and gory violence on his body. He approached my admiral with hostile intent. He's lucky I haven't gutted him." Then he passed a charming grin to Ushara. "I got around to reading the manual."
"God help us now," she teased him.
"Or at the very least, your brother since it's his ass in the hot seat for my actions.... He's so going to seriously regret being my CO." Jullien turned back toward Malys. "Means I have free rein to make you unhappy. I sincerely like that thought."
"Have you any idea who I am?"
"No, and I honestly don't care when you threaten the VA of this Nation."
"I will have you whipped."
Jullien gave her a chilling smile. "Last one who tried that died in agonizing pain, while calling my paternity into question."
Malys's nostrils flared as she realized that Jullien wasn't about to heel. She faced Ushara. "Are you going to let him talk to me like this? With impunity?"
Ushara ground her teeth. Andarion males didn't back down, especially not stralen ones. Jullien was protecting her. But Malys was a Qill and they didn't retreat either. This was a bad situation and she had no idea how to diffuse it.
A tic started in Jullien's jaw. "I believe what we have here is what the Overseer of Justice and her council would call a failure of competing goals. You broke your ships. And that's a damn shame. You should learn to pilot them better. Now you expect us to hand over ours without compensation. Were we to march into your territory and do that, Venik would tell us to kiss his large Andarion ass. Given what I know about the history between Venik and Thaumarturgus, I really don't think you want to take that meeting you're insisting on. So instead of trying to manhandle my VA, I suggest you thank her for saving your lives."
Malys closed the distance between them. "You're Andarion?"
"Yes, I am."
"Caste?"
"Given my bearing and syntax, I should think it obvious."
"Then you should know my husband will do as I request of him. As the mother of his children, I hold Brax's full loyalty. Therefore, you should fear him and me."
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