Sholpan

by Joe Vasicek

“No,” said Narju, more forcibly this time. “Sholpan, look at me.”

  Stella turned and put her hands on her waist, sizing herself up against him. “Do you think this skirt would fit you?”

  “Sholpan.”

  The power in his voice made her stop. To her surprise, his face was a picture of calm and peace.

  Of resignation.

  “You cannot save me,” he said. “But I sincerely thank you for wanting to.”

  Stella frowned. “What are you talking about? Of course I—”

  “No, Sholpan. This is the way it must be. You cannot help me; I must die.”

  For a brief, painful moment, they both fell silent. Stella’s heart raced in her chest.

  “Don’t say that! There has to be a way out of—”

  “There isn’t. Qasar is already assembling his entire household to witness my execution.”

  “But—but how do they know it was you? They can’t prove anything.”

  “I have already confessed.”

  Stella felt as if the floor had fallen out from underneath her. “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want another to be punished in my place. I killed, and I must die. I accepted this long before I took Borta’s life.”

  Stella’s arms trembled, and her vision started to blur. Tears burned like acid in her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep them from spilling out all at once.

  “Why did you kill her?” she asked, but she knew the answer before she spoke.

  “To save you.”

  “Why?” she cried, clenching her fists until her hands turned white. Painful tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

  “Because one day,” he told her, “the Hameji will conquer the last free star and rule over the known universe. When that day comes, goodness and virtue will only survive because of people like you in places of power.”

  He no longer had the downcast eyes of a mere servant. When he spoke, he spoke with the sincerity of one who had already accepted death.

  “What are you talking about?” Stella asked, her head spinning. “Me? I-I can’t do that.”

  “Did you give yourself to Qasar last night?”

  “No,” Stella admitted.

  Narju smiled as relief flooded his face. “Good. Then I didn’t give my life in vain.”

  Her head spinning from a thousand screaming thoughts, Stella collapsed by Narju’s side and wept into his blanket.

  “No,” she cried. “I don’t want you to die!”

  “Sholpan,” he said, putting a shackled hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me very carefully. We do not choose the life that fate gives us. We only choose how we live it—and how to give of ourselves before our time is over.”

  Stella’s shoulders trembled as she wept under his gentle touch. Still, she quieted somewhat to hear him speak.

  “I am the last of my people,” Narju continued. “My family, my tribe, and all of my loved ones are dead at the hands of the Hameji. They slaughtered my people and destroyed my homeworld. They broke me down and made me into the thing that I am today—an unmanned servant for their pleasure women.”

  Stella glanced up at him. Narju met her gaze with his humble, sincere eyes. His hand felt tense on her shoulder.

  “I never thought that this would be my life,” he continued. “It would have been easy for me to give up and end it. I could have ended it—I could have died as a martyr, and regained some small kernel of my honor. Still, I held back, knowing that such a death would accomplish nothing. Fate had kept me alive for a reason—and now I finally know why.”

  Stella’s eyes burned again, and the room began to spin around her. Why me? she wanted to scream. I’m not good enough—I don’t deserve this.

  The door hissed open behind them, making her jump. Stella rose quickly to her feet and stepped between Narju and the two guards.

  “The general is ready,” said one of them. “Milady, step aside.”

  A snarl rose to Stella’s lips, and she opened her mouth to tell them to go to hell. Before she could speak, however, Narju put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She turned around to face him.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Sholpan.”

  Stella drew in a deep and tremulous breath. Without thinking, she pressed her lips against his. Her muscles turned to water as she closed her eyes and gave everything to the man who had saved her.

  This is my first kiss, Stella told herself. Whatever Qasar does to me, at least I have this.

  Rough hands pulled her away, shattering the moment. From the wall, Stella watched as the soldiers led Narju through the door. The shackles on his feet clanged with a harsh sound on the cold, bare floor.

  When she was alone, Stella fell to the floor and wept.

  * * * * *

  “You look stunning, my shy goddess.”

  Stella swallowed and did her best to put on a convincing smile. The servants who had dressed her stepped back, allowing Qasar to admire her all the easier.

  “The red brings out the blush in your cheeks, and the gold trim truly gives you the appearance of a queen. This dress will be perfect for the wedding.”

  “S-so soon?” Stella blurted, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

  Fortunately, Qasar only laughed. “Of course, my dear! The fleet has already been summoned. Would you have me keep our guests waiting when there’s still honor to be won?”

  So that’s why he’s going through with this so quickly, she thought to herself. Barely two days had passed since Borta’s death and Narju’s execution, but for her, the time had passed like a whirlwind. In some ways, that was a good thing—the moment she had some time to herself, she would probably have a nervous breakdown.

  “Yes,” Qasar continued, waving his hand to dismiss the servants. “In only a few of your standard day cycles, we shall be wed, and you shall be my wife. And a fine wife you shall be.”

  Stella nodded, struggling to keep her composure. “Of course, milord.”

  He caressed her cheek with his hand, nearly making her flinch. “Such potential—and to think how it was almost wasted by keeping you as a concubine. That treasonous doctor—it was right to have him executed for failing to disclose your virtue.”

  She swallowed hard at the word ‘execution,’ thinking of Narju. Thankfully, Qasar withdrew his hand and stepped back.

  “Tell me, Sholpan, among your own people were you not a princess? Because you certainly look like one now.”

  No, Stella nearly answered. Instead, she smiled demurely and looked away, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to read her.

  “You flatter me,” she said simply.

  “Truly, were you not royalty? You are spaceborn, after all.”

  “I am,” she said shifting nervously on her feet, “but … it does not mean the same among my people as it does to you.”

  “No?” Qasar asked, frowning.

  Stella shook her head. “The people of Karduna don’t make that distinction. They—”

  “It is no surprise. They’re only planetborn, after all.”

  That doesn’t mean they aren’t human, Stella wanted to say. Instead, she bit her lip and kept her thoughts to herself.

  “Well, no matter. When we are married, you shall be a queen and rule over them. If they did not recognize your superiority before, they certainly will now.”

  “T-thank you, milord.”

  Qasar nodded and turned to go. Before he palmed open the door, however, Stella stepped impulsively forward.

  “Wait!” she said.

  Qasar stopped and turned to face her. “What is it, my dear?”

  “About Borta. I—”

  A shaddow fell over Qasar’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “What about her?”

  “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t want anything to happen to her, and I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

  Qasar eyed her for a moment, his expression utterly unreadable. Does he think I was behind the murder? Stella wondered. Cold sweat clung to the back of her neck, and her heart began to race.

 
“Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”

  “N-no, milord.”

  “Good. Then I would remind you that as a concubine, you are not a part of my house. I will thank you to leave me to my own affairs until we are married.”

  I should never have brought it up, Stella realized. It had seemed like an issue that needed to be addressed, but apparently talking about it had only made things worse.

  In any case, it wasn’t as if Qasar was mourning her death. Somehow, that made things even worse.

  * * * * *

  Stella half walked, half ran down the colorful hallway of the concubines’ quarters. Her breathing came short and quick, and her hands trembled so much she could barely hold them still. She desperately needed someone to talk to—someone to listen to her, before she fell apart and had a nervous breakdown.

  “Tamu?” she said, bursting through the bead curtain to her room. “Oh, Tamu! Thank God, I—”

  She stopped cold as she realized that Engus was in the room as well. He and Tamu both stared at her, a look of puzzlement on their faces.

  “Sholpan? Darling, what’s the matter?”

  “W-what is Engus doing here?”

  “Summons,” said Engus, puffing up with indignation as he moved past her to the door. “Tamu, you come.”

  Stella’s stomach fell. She turned to her roommate.

  “Summons? To Qasar’s bedchamber?”

  “I’m afraid so, honey. But don’t worry; we can chat when I get back.”

  Stella opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Tamu smiled as if to reassure her, then followed Engus out of the room.

  Qasar and Tamu, Stella thought to herself, shuddering as she sat down on the edge of her bunk. Even after all that talk of becoming a queen, she was still marrying a man who had his pleasure with almost a hundred women—no, not marrying him. He might consider her his wife, but she was still his prisoner.

  “Ben,” she whispered, her vision clouding as her arms and legs began to shake. “James, Mom, Dad—Lars.” Where are you?

  The sound of rustling beads snapped her out of her increasingly desperate thoughts. She looked up and saw the silhouette of a shapely young woman standing just outside the doorway.

  “Sholpan?”

  “Yes?” Stella called out, sitting up on her bed. Her hair was a mess, but that hardly mattered.

  “Mind if I come in?”

  Why not? “Sure.”

  The young woman parted the bead curtain and stepped inside. To Stella’s surprise, three others followed, all of whom looked to be at least five standard years older than her. They were all dressed in skimpy two-piece dresses, but they were all so bashful it hardly seemed like they were flaunting anything.

  Stella frowned. What’s going on?

  “Hi,” said the first girl, a tall brunette. “I’m Jaren. This is my bunkmate Erika, and that’s Nani and Sarha over there.”

  “Uh, hi,” said Stella, not sure what else to say. The three older girls smiled at her, and she realized she’d forgotten their names already.

  “We just wanted to meet you before, well, before you go,” Jaren continued. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. For example—”

  “Is it true that Master Qasar wants to make you his wife?” Jaren’s shorter roommate blurted—Erika, that was her name.

  “Um, yes,” said Stella. Or something like that.

  “And Borta? Did your servant really kill her?”

  Stella nodded. The girls’ eyes went wide.

  “What about your first night with him?” Jaren asked, emboldened by the others. “I heard you refused to sleep with him, and he was so impressed that he let you live.”

  “Is it true you’re a virgin?” one of the others asked.

  Stella blushed. “Yeah, I am.”

  “So that’s why,” said Jaren, nodding.

  “Is it true that you can talk with Master Qasar?” Erika asked, her eyes wide with fascination. “That you can both talk and understand each other?”

  Stella frowned. “Yes, of course. The Hameji dialect—”

  “Wow!” said Jaren, eyes widening as a collective gasp rose from all four of them. “What kind of a man is he?”

  “Yeah—what sorts of things does he talk about?”

  “Is he as good with words as he is in bed?”

  Stars of Earth, Stella realized. None of these girls has ever shared a conversation with him. To think of everything else that they’d shared—it made her stomach flip.

  “Hey,” said Jaren. “One question at a time. You’re overwhelming her.”

  “We just wanted to say hi before you left,” said the quieter one. She stepped forward and gave Stella a hug.

  “That’s right,” said Jaren, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We all look up to you.”

  “T-thank you,” said Stella, too surprised to do anything but sit there as the other girls stepped forward and hugged her one by one. Jaren was the last.

  “Take care, and don’t forget us. We’re all looking up to you.”

  Jaren’s words stayed with Stella long after the girls had left. She blinked and took in a deep breath as the beads slowly stopped swinging in the doorway.

  One day, the Hameji will rule over the known universe, Narju had told her. When that day comes, goodness and virtue will only survive because of people like you in places of power.

  Was that true? Perhaps. But even if it was, all Stella wanted was to go home.

  Author’s Note

  I once read a book on writing by Ray Bradbury in which he said that one of the best ways to come up with stories is to write about your worst childhood fears (or something to that effect). For me, that’s the fear of being unable to save the people I love. I grew up as the only son in a family of four children, where all of my sisters were younger than me. Naturally, I became very protective of them, which is where this childhood fear had its origins. So when I wrote Bringing Stella Home, I knew that I had to make Stella’s side of the story especially horrible.

  At first, Stella wasn’t much more than a maguffin. I knew that I wanted her to rise to power and influence from a position of abject weakness, but I had no idea how. As her story developed, however, I realized a few things about her: first, that she comes from a culture that places great value on chastity and abstinence before marriage; second, that she is not the kind of person who would compromise her values to save her life; and third, that she doesn’t realize this about herself when the story begins.

  This set up a character arc that really intrigued me. Her story went from imprisonment and survival to finding unlikely inner strength in the face of a desperate situation, and using that strength to leverage herself into a position of power. Stella stopped being just a maguffin and started to be the heroine of her own story, and when that happened, everything just fell into place.

  For Sholpan, I went back into Stella’s past and explored some of the more formative experiences of her apprenticeship that had a bearing on the story told in Bringing Stella Home. I wrote those scenes about a year after finishing the final version of the novel; however, several of the other characters (such as Lars) appear in other stories that I had worked on much more recently, with fairly prominent roles. Putting the characters from the different books together in the same scenes was a lot of fun, and I hope to do more of that in later works. I’ve already got several other novels for the Gaia Nova universe either planned or written, and the more I write, the more stories come. Most of them are only loosely connected sequels, but they feature recurring characters, so this probably isn’t the last you’ll see of Stella, Lars, Qasar, or any of the other characters.

  This was my first time writing a novella, and certainly my first time creating a derivative work from something I’ve already written. I’m sure I have a lot to learn, but I had a lot of fun writing it! If people enjoy these kinds of stories, I’d love to do a companion novella/novelette for every full lengt
h novel.

  As always, if you enjoyed this story, I hope you’ll take the time to share, post a review, tell a friend, or blog about it. Every little bit helps, and I really appreciate it whenever anyone does anything to show their support. In the meantime, feel free to check out my blog, One Thousand and One Parsecs (onelowerlight.com/writing), where I have links to my other stories and post regular updates on my writing. On the sidebar, you can sign up for my newsletter, where I do periodic giveaways and share exclusive content, as well as news on my latest releases. You can also find me at Facebook and Twitter (@onelowerlight), if you’re so inclined. And if you have any comments or feedback, for this story or for anything else, please feel free shoot me an email at joseph.vasicek@gmail.com.

  Finally, I just want to say thank you for taking a chance on this story. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, I hope you’ll check out Bringing Stella Home (if you haven’t already). I put a large part of myself in everything I write, so it makes me happy whenever my stories connect with anyone. But first, someone’s got to take that chance, so thank you once again, and until next time, I hope to see you soon!

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I’d like to thank all of my readers for Bringing Stella Home who were so helpful in developing Stella’s character and story arc: Stephen Haskin, Sarah Ray, Max Florschutz, and Nathan Waitman from Brandon Sanderson’s English 318R class (where this story first started to take form); Charlie Holmberg, Jason Housely, Officer Joel Frary, Ben Hardin, Julie Black, Stephen Dethloff, and Kindal Debenhaum, who alpha read the second draft; Mykle Law, Peter Johnston, Jenna Kimble, Craig Roddin, Liel Boyce, and Lieutenant David Kerman who alpha read the third draft; and C.A. Jacobs (aka “minion”) for her help with the last major revision. Finally, I’d like to acknowledge my copy editor, Josh Leavitt, for his services, and my cover artist Līva Šmaukstele for her excellent art. Thanks so much for all of your help!

  If you enjoyed Sholpan, be sure to get the rest of Stella’s story in Bringing Stella Home!