Dhakhar

by Annabelle Rex

  “Welcome to Denestra, Princess.”

  A blast of hot air greets us as I lower the loading ramp. Air so dry it itches my nose as soon as I take a breath. I’ve changed out of my formal jacket into my lighter one, the material designed for this sort of environment, moderating my temperature while protecting my skin from the burning sun. I’ve given a spare jacket to the princess, to protect her pale arms and shoulders. It looks ridiculous over the dress, but she’ll be grateful for it in about five minutes.

  As we step out from the shadow of the ship, the full power of the sun beats down on us. I squint, and the princess raises a hand to her face, shielding her eyes. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been to Denestra, and other planets like it before, the shock of the sunlight - the brightness as much as the heat - gets me every time. There isn’t so much as a whisper of breeze and the air the ground, everything around us feels baked. Heat haze makes the whole environment feel wavy, lacking solidity.

  Ahead of us, a transport is idling, ready to take us to Denestra Two. Heading to us, clutching something in his hands, is Jaxran himself.

  “Welcome, welcome,” Jaxran says with a Vetruen-esque flourish of his hand. Then he grips whatever it is he has hold of, pointing it out towards us. It clicks, and pops open - a beautifully decorated parasol. I almost laugh.

  “For you, my lady,” Jaxran says, presenting it to her with a flourish.

  My friend looks very different from the days of the war. But though the Denestra sun has burnt him brown, and he wears a visor across his sensitive eyes, there’s no mistaking the grin he gives me from a Vetruen approved distance. Jaxran wouldn’t normally be so formal, but he’s behaving himself in front of the princess.

  I suppose I should be thankful for that.

  “My lady, allow me to introduce you to Jaxran Nashalla, Sheriff of Denestra,” I say.

  I notice her go to raise her hand but clench it at her side, cutting off her Human impulse to do hand shaking.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” she says instead, doing that strange bob and flick of her skirts again, this time only with the one hand, the other clutching her parasol. She’s a picture in her elaborate dress and UP-LE issue jacket, the mismatching parasol just adding to the overall ludicrousness. But the advantage of having to wear a light blocking visor is that your eyes don’t give away any hint of what you’re thinking. Jaxran is utterly impassive.

  “Jaxran, meet her royal highness Princess Charl-.”

  “Charlie,” she interrupts. “Please, call me Charlie. I’m only ever ‘Charlotte’ when I’m in trouble.”

  There’s a strange blush on her cheeks as she says this which I don’t think has to do with the heat. I don’t have any time to wonder about it, though, as Jaxran wastes no time in ushering us over towards the waiting transport.

  “It’s a delight to welcome you to Denestra, ma’am,” he says. “Dhak told me about your little predicament. Rest assured - though we may not look up to much, there are plenty of talented people here. We shall find something to suit you.”

  “Thank you,” she responds, and perhaps she doesn’t realise that Jaxran’s ‘Sheriff’ title is equivalent to my ‘Captain’. We’re both head of a law enforcement department, I just operate under the umbrella of the Protectorate and Jaxran does not. Or perhaps she’s just won over by Jaxran’s potent charm. Either way, since dinner with H’Varak, she’s never once said ‘thank you’ to me.

  The journey from the port to Denestra Two, the second settlement to form on Denestra, but now the largest, isn’t long. A ten minute bump along the uneven desert roads. Jaxran talks about the possibilities of making them smoother, more permanent, but the challenges that the harsh weather and the ever shifting sands present. Hardly a riveting topic of conversation, but that’s Jaxran. He could talk about just about anything and women would hang off his every word.

  When we arrive in the town, there are two women waiting for us. I hang back as Jaxran introduces the princess to them and they lead her away into one of the nearby buildings. Jaxran watches until they’re indoors, then comes back over to me.

  “Well,” he says. “She’s quite something. Where in the outer reaches of the Universe did they find her?”

  “Unregistered planet,” I say, and give him brief details.

  “Thank the stars she’s royalty,” Jax says. “Or you would have had to pry her out of H’Varak’s grubby paws.”

  “I know.”

  “I still don’t know why you work for that vecking…” Jaxran mutters something. My translator does its best, but there are certain elements of language that don’t translate well - idioms and turns of phrase. Jaxran’s language is peppered with them. I’m used to not understanding half of what he says when cursing.

  “It’s not so bad,” I say.

  “‘Not so bad’ is not the manner in which I would wish to live my life.”

  “You live on Denestra,” I point out. “You’re Maratin and you live on Denestra. You’re not exactly well adapted for it.”

  Jaxran just laughs, tapping a finger to the visor that surrounds his face. “There are ways around almost everything, friend. There will be a way around working for H’Varak on Xentra, if you decide to look for it.”

  “Wouldn’t have to look very hard,” I say. “Pretty sure the Sheriff of Denestra would hire me.”

  “I have heard the man’s a bit of an idiot that way.”

  I can feel the tension seeping out of my muscles. Between the heat of the sun and Jaxran’s easy company, the knots in my neck, my shoulders, are starting to unwind.

  “This whole job is a vecking mess,” I say. “First the intel about the weapons that weren’t actually weapons…”

  I give him a brief rundown of everything that’s happened so far, including the awkward dinner with H’Varak, and the princess losing her temper with me last night.

  “No doubt I will be the one bearing the brunt of the punishment when she has a less than stellar review of her time away from her homeworld,” I say.

  Jaxran shakes his head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I don’t think you give her enough credit. Don’t forget she’s a woman alone in a big wide Universe she didn’t know existed, relying on you to keep her safe, not sure who to trust. Let her know she can trust you. I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

  “I’m not sure saying ‘by the way, you can trust me, I’m not like H’Varak’ is going to count for much. She didn’t seem to mind H’Varak.”

  “H’Varak made clear his position as most powerful man in the room. It’s just good sense on her part to appear not to mind him. Think like a survivor, Dhak. Alone, vulnerable and told ‘this is the Station Commander, your fate is in his hands’ - what would you do in that circumstance?”

  Jaxran has a point. I was so ready to see it as her gravitating towards her kind, I hadn’t even considered that there might have been another reason for her behaviour. A little bit of shame flutters through my chest. Perhaps I should have given her more of a chance.

  “Guess I’ve got so used to the upper classes treating me like dirt, I just didn’t think anything of it,” I say.

  I suspect beneath his visor, Jaxran is rolling his eyes at me. “And we come back again to the question of why you work for those idiots.”

  “Someone has to do it,” I say. “And one of these days, the Protectorate will finish sorting the core systems and extend their reach properly outwards. H’Varak will have to get with their program eventually.”

  “You have to hope,” Jaxran says. “It physically hurts me to know that there are Vetruens out there living like the war never happened, like the Empire never fell.”

  We share a moment of silent solidarity. Jaxran’s people were well integrated with the Vetruen Empire, benefited from it. If there was a species out there that could feel some sympathy for the Vetruens who want things to carry on as they were, the Maratin would be it. But Jax didn’t ride out his service in a command position. He fought on the front line next to th
e likes of me. And in all the time I served alongside him, I never once saw him treat anyone as if they were beneath him. Even the enemy.

  “H’Varak would definitely like to believe the Empire never fell,” I say.

  “Vecking Vetruen…” Jaxran curses again.

  This time it translates after a moment to ‘son of a shedreion’s rear left femur’ - a shedreion being a domesticated creature popular on Jaxran’s home planet, but nowhere else in the known Universe on account of them being slavering, ugly things. Quite what their left femurs have to do with procreation, I dare not ask.

  “Where is Ness, anyway?” I ask, referring to the shedreion that’s been by Jax’s side since I’ve known him. A great, slobbering monster with too many teeth to be a good pet in my view.

  “I thought perhaps it was better to greet the princess without a terrible, frightful beast by my side,” Jax says, and I know he’s rolling his eyes beneath his visor this time. “He won’t be far, though.”

  He puts his fingers in his mouth and blows a sharp whistle. Sure enough, just a few moments later, I hear Ness’ panting breath as he bounds over to us. As soon as he reaches Jaxran’s side, he sits back and looks up at him, expectant, tongue out and teeth bared in what Jaxran would have you believe is a smile. Jaxran reaches in his pocket and pulls out a treat. Ness, ever obedient to Jaxran, sits patiently, eyes tracking the progress of his master’s hand. When Jax holds the treat at Ness’ level, Ness takes it between his enormous teeth with a gentleness that still surprises me every time.

  I’m amazed the creature copes in the heat, but it looks in good health, its fur glossy, its eyes bright with intelligence. I still can’t see it as anything other than repulsive, but I appreciate Ness for his talents - the nose that can scent a person from miles away, tracking them through all sorts of terrain with ease, and the fact that he can be trained to follow commands. He watches me with curiosity, perhaps even recognising me, but until Jaxran tells him he can move, he won’t.

  “The people of Denestra tolerate your eccentricities still, then?” I say.

  “No sign of a lynch mob as yet,” Jax replies with a grin.

  But though he may joke, I know Jaxran is well respected here. He leads the people of Denestra with a firm, fair hand, interfering when he needs to, but largely letting them get on with their lives. Much like with Low Town, the art is in knowing when to overlook the things that are technically illegal, but aren’t hurting anyone, and when to lay down the law. I like to think we both get the balance right.

  We talk for a short while, catching up on each other’s lives. As is usually the way with ex-soldiers, talk turns to the war. But not battles fought or horrific things seen. Whenever Jax talks about the war, he always talks about the people, wondering where they are now, if they’re doing alright. He’s telling me about one of the guys we fought with, how he’s set up a shipping business, delivering parts to the outer systems, how Jax has told him to stay on Denestra for a couple of days if he’s ever out this way.

  “Dangerous work,” Jax says. “Flying out to these kinds of places is bad enough, flying out with valuable cargo…”

  “I should think he could handle a few pirates,” I say, just as the princess re-emerges from the shop.

  I almost don’t recognise her. Slim fitting trousers hug the curve of her hips, her feet in a pair of sturdy boots. Her top is loose, off-white, made of the sorts of natural materials that allow the skin to breathe in hot weather, and she’s obviously happy to be out of the dress, practically beaming as she walks over. I should think her plain in this outfit, especially compared to the elaborate dress she wore before, but it’s just one more example of Vetruen conditioning failing to take in me. She’s stunning, and it’s not just because her curves are no longer hidden by the enormous skirts and tight bodice of the dress - the loose fitting blouse doesn’t exactly cling to her frame. No, it’s because she’s far more comfortable now, walking tall in the practical shoes that cost a fraction of what the shoes the Vetruen’s gave her cost.

  Jaxran’s assessment rings in my ears again.

  I don’t think you give her enough credit.

  Maybe I really have been seeing a spoiled, pompous brat because that’s what I expected her to be.

  “I feel so much better now,” she says as she reaches us. “Thank you.”

  She’s saying it to Jaxran mostly, but she does turn to accommodate me in her thanks as well.

  “The rest is being transported back to the ship,” she says to me, then, a slightly wary look comes into her eyes. “I said they could keep the dress.”

  “You gave them the dress?” I say, not quite computing this.

  “They were telling me about how difficult it is to get materials out here, and how many outfits they could make just from the skirts alone, so… I said they could have it. I don’t need it. They can have the other one too. As a thank you.”

  “That’s very generous of you, my lady,” Jaxran says.

  This makes her smile, one of those bright, dazzling smiles that hits me somewhere deep in my gut. I don’t know why she gets to me so much. I thought myself inured to beauty after fighting against the Prenetashi. But apparently this Human woman still has the power to get under my skin. I’m practically entranced by her smile.

  Then Ness yips, and all her attention goes to the creature, her eyes widening. I’m about to reassure her that the beast might look frightening, but it’s actually fairly friendly, when she drops down to her knees.

  “Oh my goodness, you’re gorgeous,” she says, petting Ness without any hesitation or fear. The creature responds enthusiastically, licking her face. Bizarrely, this just makes her laugh with delight. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you. You’re such a good boy.” She looks up at Jaxran. “What’s his name?”

  Jaxran is as surprised as me - well used to people responding to his pet by giving it a wide berth - but recovers faster.

  “Ness,” he says.

  “Ness,” she says, pressing her face close to the creature’s maw with no regard for its numerous sharp teeth. “You’re a cutie, Ness.”

  “Many in the Universe would disagree with you there, ma’am,” Jaxran says with a grin.

  “Then they’re clearly stupid, aren’t they, Ness?”

  “You hear that Captain?” Jaxran says, voice smug. “You’re clearly stupid.”

  “If finding that beast cute is what constitutes intelligence, I’m proud to be stupid,” I say, because I’m talking to Jaxran, and joking around with each other is what we’ve always done. I don’t stop to think about how the princess will react to my words.

  She surprises me by laughing. And dammit, the sound makes my heart kick and my stomach flutter. I immediately want to make her laugh again.

  Jaxran looks from me to the princess and back again.

  “Are you in a rush to get going,” he says, “or do you have time for a quick tour of the markets?”

  “I’d love to take a look at the markets,” the princess says, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  We should probably get going, but I find I don’t want to disappoint her. The markets aren’t far from where we are, and neither are they large. It won’t take more than an hour or so to have a really thorough wander through them.

  “We have the time,” I say.

  An extra hour on Denestra won’t hurt.

  Chapter 10

  Charlie

  Despite my much more appropriate new outfit and the parasol Jaxran gave me, the ferocious heat still draws sweat from my skin. The unrelenting sun beats down on everything, bleaching all the buildings a kind of off-white, baking the pavement til it cracks and heating the air so it practically scorches my nose hairs when I breathe in.

  The people of Denestra have adapted their environment by putting up large sheets everywhere, creating artificial shade between the buildings and over the market stalls. There are precious few trees, and those that do have spiny leaves. Good for the tree’s ability to conserve water, not so g
reat for casting shadows.

  I walk with the Captain on one side and Jaxran on the other. Jaxran’s much more friendly than the Captain, far less stiff in his manner. He addresses me as ‘ma’am’ but otherwise talks to me fairly normally. I think he likes me because I like his dog. His alien dog.

  I probably shouldn’t have got up in its face and let it kiss me, but I couldn’t help myself. He has sandy brown fur and big, happy eyes, and when he smiled at me, all lolling tongue, I just couldn’t resist going in for a cuddle. Alien dog slobber… It can’t be worse than normal dog slobber, right?

  “There isn’t much in the way of trade out here,” Jaxran is saying. “So a lot of what the markets sell is repurposed. Just like on Xentra, there are a fair few people here who make their money as Junkers. They can pick up some new and unusual stuff from time to time, but it usually gets snapped up pretty fast. Still, there might be some interesting local curiosities.”

  He must realise that everything here is interesting to me. I don’t care if the stuff the locals are selling is effectively junk. It’s still space junk on an alien planet. I stare, bug eyed, at everything, trying to figure out what the strange contraptions are that one stall is selling, admiring the intricate fabrics being sold by another. The fabric certainly doesn’t look repurposed or like junk.

  “Amirien reprogrammed a broken miner drone to weave her fabrics,” Jaxran says, apparently having noticed my staring.

  “They’re beautiful,” I say.

  Then we turn a corner, and we’re no longer on a street with a few stalls either side of it, but stepping in to a whole complex of stalls underneath one large canopy. There are food stalls and electronics stalls, and stalls that appear to sell jewellery and odds and ends. There’s such a hustle and bustle to the place, a positive vibe to the atmosphere. People barter over items and the stalls are all crowded in together, their owners shouting over each other to be heard. But there isn’t an angry face in the crowd. Everyone seems pleased to be here.