by Greg Dragon
He was right, of course, and the Memory saddened Rafian.
“Rest in peace, my Ranalos friend,” he muttered to himself as he replaced the sword in its sheath.
The sword had been his chosen path. In his heart he made an oath that he would cut the Felitian Empire’s head off from its neck or join his friend in the void if he failed.
Memory 18 | Hatch Kitten
If life as a leader was stressful, then one would assume that Rafian VCA had a masochist yearning for trouble. The war had grown intense, and while he had a personal love for the cause, he often worried if there would be any end to the fighting that turned their tiny side of Tyhera black with the char of burnt barracks, bases, and cities. For the two years of fighting, the only “love” Rafian knew was through the prostitutes of the saloons and the faster women of the resistance. Many women assumed the resistance leader to be eternally a bachelor and were happy for a night or two with him whenever his busy schedule would allow it.
On the inside he had made himself hard as steel, refusing to allow the depression he once felt over Rhiya to return. Passing on any relationships with women for fear of losing them to his enemies was not what he wanted to continue doing. This wasn’t to say Rafian didn’t get close, but the women of the resistance were too convenient, and unless he could find a way to stop the fighting, he continued to be a bachelor very devoted to their fight.
It was the supple lips and rhythmic hips of a Felitian baroness that finally caught his eye. Though Fels were eternally his enemy, this beautiful woman was enough to bring thoughts that should not have been in the mind of a commander. Her name was Rienne, and she was a Felitian lady of Veece. It was during an escape from freshly rallied Felitian troopers that Rafian happened upon her large apartment and dashed in blindly with hopes of finding it empty.
“What the…Dog! Resistance scum! How dare you come in here! Help!” she screamed as he gained her doorway, but her objections were cut short by his strong hands as he clasped her mouth shut and held her slight body firmly against his.
“Silence, you little Fel snake. I won’t be here long!” he said as he held her firmly.
Rienne continued to struggle under his grasp regardless of his threats, and it made Rafian frustrated.
“Look, either you play nice, or I will stick you!” he said and brought up his sword to her face in warning.
“I am not bluffing, girlie!”
The threat still did not seem to have any effect on her, and in one clean motion, she spun from his arms and landed a slap soundly on his jaw. She was free now and staring intensely at him. She began to walk in a crouched circle. Her hands were clenched into tight, pale, knuckled fists, and her eyes were all fire. She began to make snarling noises at him.
“You need to calm down,” Rafian said, turning as she circled, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Experience in multiple situations had taught him to assume the worst at moments like this. Even though his sword was drawn and he was intent on killing, this woman was not backing down. The other thing that kept him wary was the look in her eyes. It was a predator’s look. Her body and facial expression remained calm, but her eyes read intense rage, which made him feel that she was a killer.
It was too much for Rafian, so he took the initiative. Tripping her with his left leg, he swung the hilt of his blade down in an arch towards her head. But Rienne was too quick, and upon being tripped, she forced herself to fall flat and fast, rolling away from the intended blow. Within seconds, she was back on her feet, drawing a hidden dagger, which she held in front of her menacingly. The troops had passed, and it was quiet outside. Rafian assumed that it was quiet inside her house too, but his blood pounded drumlike canters in his ears so loudly he could not notice. He let himself go calm and feinted in and out with her, trying as best as he could to identify the dagger. It looked old—not old as in ancient and rusted but old as in old technology. It was not a cyber-knife, and it wasn’t even metal. It looked like stone, the same type that the cavemen of Toone had used. The same stone daggers that usually came doused and finished in deadly spider poison—this woman meant business.
Rafian could tell by her parries and feints that she was a fencer of sorts, but he was getting too annoyed for admiration. He knew that he had to radio in soon, or his men would worry about him. So with a desperate lunge, he allowed himself to swing the sword wildly, hoping that the she-devil would fall for his trap. Luckily she did and came in for the intended free killing strike, but it was welcomed. Releasing the blade as he swung, Rafian used the ridge of his left hand to knock her strike away while simultaneously hooking his right fist squarely into her jaw. Rienne crumbled instantly, the impact of her fall snapping the legs of her coffee table, breaking the glass and knocking her painting of the Veece Palace off of the wall. Reaching down to take the knife, Rafian realized that his hunch was correct—a nick from its blade would have been instant death.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked the unconscious woman. Then, breathing a sigh of relief, he exited her house to head after his men.
After that day, Rafian hoped he would never see her again. It was a short-lived dream at best, as destiny is cruel that way. A few weeks later, on a trip back to Talula on business, he found himself seated across from a beautiful woman who had a strange familiarity. It bothered him the entire flight until he noticed she was staring at him.
The air became uncomfortable, so he spoke first. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to be rude, but should I know you?”
Smiling widely, the mysterious woman motioned to a mark on her cheek. She was a creature of natural beauty, light brown in complexion with ebony hair spiraled in the style of the day with golden clips as décor. The day they fought, and this day on the flight, she had dressed in the same way—a long, patterned crimson dress offset with comfortable dark dress shoes. She was tall with a slight build, and at a glance she could easily be mistaken for a dancer or model instead of the viper that she really was.
“You know, rebel, you left an impression on me, and after that day, you have not left my mind,” she replied to Rafian, her lips curving into a warm smile.
Ignoring her charm and the sexy accent he couldn’t place, Rafian looked into her eyes again, and they read the same intent as the day they had fought.
“I’m glad I made an impression on you,” he said. “Forgive me for hitting you. I meant only to stop your advance. I am the last man to wish scars upon a beautiful woman, no matter what side of the war she is on.”
This was an obvious lie because Rafian was responsible for the indiscriminate deaths of many Felitian soldiers, no matter their looks or gender. This seemed to anger Rienne more than amuse her.
“Save that Buraa shite for the saloon trash, outlaw. I was doing my duty and failed.” She leaned in with a coy expression and then whispered as if embarrassed that anyone else could hear, “My life has not been easy since I let you slip. The Felitian command was not very happy.”
With interest, Rafian stared at her anew. “You underestimate me, you know that? This is why you have the scar and not me.”
Rienne was flustered and spat back, “Only a scar for me, you coward. Were the tables turned, you’d be dead!”
Looking around at the startled passengers, who now regarded them with interest, Rafian smiled as if they were old lovers quarreling in order to take the attention down a notch. Speaking to Rienne under his breath, he made it clear that he was serious.
“Do you think I fear death? I am a man of Mera Ku. It’s the disgrace of dying to a pawn of the Fels that made me even fight back. Look at you, playing the part of their pretty attack dog. You escaped with your life that day, a feat that many have not managed to accomplish with me.”
Rienne kept her eyes locked in on him. “You dare talk to me like that? Outlaw. I allow you to fly on this aircraft without revealing you to the Felitian authority, and you show me arrogance?”
She was visibly upset now, and Rafian looked back at her calmly.
�
��You’re too uptight, you know that? Call your dogs, and you can watch me dice them into mincemeat, the way I do weekly without challenge. I’ll tell you what I know, though, my pretty little snake. You won’t call the Fels because of your code. You’re a killer like me. I am your mark and no one else’s; you would not let me go so easily without sinking a blade into me first. Would you? Tell you what. When this bird lands, let us go settle our differences, OK?”
* * *
The sun shone brightly through the window slit of the apartment as Rafian opened his eyes. Using his right hand, he began to stroke the long strands of hair flowing from Rienne’s sleeping head as she peacefully purred warmly into his chest. She was in a deep sleep, and her arms clutched his body tightly, as if allowing him no chance of escape. He could not explain how they had come here or why they had made love as opposed to dueling, but he knew that for the first time in years, he felt at peace. Rienne was an amazing woman who made love as savagely as she had fought. She was so good, in fact, that those little pictures of “happily ever after” danced around in his mind as he caressed her hair, ignoring everything else in the world.
Her large brown eyes opened, and she was awake. Lying still for a few moments as if to gather her thoughts, she sighed, smiling, and said, “Good morning!”
Still caressing the mane of his lioness, Rafian replied, “That it is. Did you sleep well?”
Rienne thought for a second or two and then said, “The best sleep I’ve had in a very long time!”
She then sat up, the sheets falling away to reveal her perfectly rounded breasts, which made Rafian wonder how they had managed to go from trying to kill each other to waking up relaxed, as if they had each other’s backs.
“What time is it?” she asked suddenly, turning towards Rafian.
“Too early for you to leave,” he replied and pulled her back down unto the bed.
The time ticked away as the lovers explored each other’s bodies as well as minds. Rafian learned that he had somehow found himself in the arms of a high-ranking baroness of Veece, and Rienne realized that her lover was the most notorious leader of the resistance movement. They laughed at this interesting turn of affairs, but it was Rafian who suggested a proposition.
“Why don’t we let them think we are dead and run away together?” he asked as he examined the scar on her cheek that he had dealt her so long ago.
Holding his hands and staring into his eyes, Rienne replied, “This is crazy, but do you think it would work? People in OUR positions? There would be investigations, and if discovered, I fear the worst punishment for us both.”
She paused before finishing in a hushed voice, “Along with disgrace.”
It was true of course, especially the latter half. The last thing Rafian wanted to do was bring shame on himself or his cause. The resistance would be scarred by a scandal such as this. But for all that he had given up for the fight, he laughed at the thought.
“I can see it now. ‘Rafian VCA the traitor. One of the most militant of the resistance…blah…blah…blah.’ Look, Rienne, before you, I have known only one woman who gave me the feelings I have right now. Beyond lust and the physical, in this moment now that we are both experiencing, I feel something else. You yourself admitted to thinking of me long after your scars had healed and your pain had subsided. The excitement of that day wreaked an impression of one of the strongest women I have ever faced. Then our reunion on the ship revealed to me how absolutely beautiful you truly are. Do not deny how right we are together, us two all fire and fight! Opposite sides of a war though we may be, we are and should be a unit!”
Looking away for some thought, Rafian continued. “Look, Rienne, we don’t have much time. I cannot sit here and play the game of courtship with you. I am a straightforward man, and given the circumstances, I think you know what I am saying. Even if you deny me the part of running away together, I need your reassurance that today will not be the only day that I get to see you.”
Rienne was smiling. Her eyes, once locked into Rafian’s, seemed bashful suddenly, and she began to blush. “This is so crazy. How will we do this?”
Squeezing her palms, Rafian smiled at her and replied, “You just stay beautiful and attend to your duties. It is I who will come to you.”
* * *
The rebels of the resistance began to see a change in their leader Rafian VCA. There was a spring to his step unlike before; he was very accommodating, talkative at times, and actually…friendly. His habit of disappearing for long periods of time increased, but instead of returning with dust and mud caked to his body, he would return clean, freshly dressed, and beaming. It was rumored that the young commander had found love somewhere. Most of his fellows believed her to live in Divina to the north. This was the ploy that Rafian made them believe; instead, he would fly from Aygis to Divina and then bounce from Divina to a private shuttle within the walls of Vyre. From Vyre he would fly off to Cally and ride a Buraa mount northwest to the hidden cottage that he and Rienne had set up as their home of escape.
With the danger of discovery looming, the two would do this ritual only twice a month but would stay together for three to five days before painfully separating again. This continued for a long time during the war. Sometimes they would do foolish things in desperation of finding each other—or out of love. For instance, when three lone Felitian soldiers in a starport of Veece discovered Rafian’s identity, Rienne, who happened to be passing by, watched her lover take them down, but he was injured in the process. With little heed to herself, she ran to his aid in plain view. He scolded her, since it jeopardized her life for them to be seen together. But she promptly explained that she couldn’t help it.
Rafian himself had foolishly stormed a trooper garrison and destroyed it based on his discovery that a superior officer had slapped his lady. As their relationship lengthened, the foolish mistakes increased, and they both knew that they would eventually get caught. There were also bright times, when they would retreat for a week to a remote location. They would disguise themselves as Lord and Lady VCA and fly off to Vare XV, Chebe, and sometimes Lochte. As dangerous as their relationship was, Rafian VCA was a happy man. To him, he was not in love with a Felitian woman; he was in love with Rienne, a lost soul stuck in the Felitian’s world.
One day Rienne received a strange vid-message asking her to fly immediately to a waterfall in the country of Vyre. Not knowing what to expect, she made herself battle ready and headed out to meet her fate, fearing that her assassination for sleeping with the enemy had finally been realized. On arrival, an official in full regalia was waiting there with Rafian, smiling, handsomely dressed in his military uniform. He looked at her as if she were New Year’s Day.
“My love?” he queried, and with tears now running down her cheeks—fully understanding—she replied, “Yes, Rafian.” It was all she could manage to say.
Rafian VCA, freedom fighter and leader of the covert rebel group known as the Aygis, was married to Rienne Laren, Felitian baroness and lady of the house of Laren, Tyhera. They both took a month’s personal leave and escaped to Lochte for their honeymoon. Lochte was run by the infamous pirate Samael, who owed Rafian a favor from a long time ago. For the honeymoon, Rafian had contacted him, and he set up accommodations for the commander and his new wife. They were promised no outside interference, and with the pleasure of peace for at least a month’s time, they left behind all communication devices and settled down.
“So here we are!” Rafian said finally when they were settled in.
The accommodations were exquisite. Samael lent him an outlying palace of sorts with everything provided, fully maintained by an android staff with no questions asked. The palace was shaped like a disc, with the walls transparent and the furniture made of Zeynic glass and painted in off-white, yellows, and earth tones. The color matched the hot desert landscape that was the planet Lochte, and its planes of Yuir held up the massive twenty-story spike on which the palace balanced as it slowly spun through technological mag
ic that only Samael could explain. The entire interior was a lounge lizard’s dream, and the bar had enough liquor to host a year-long party with a thousand guests.
Rienne made herself comfortable and plopped down on a dais, staring at her newly acquired ring. She began laughing.
“Rafian! I will not begin to ponder how this will remain hidden, but this ring now affixed to my finger…I don’t intend to take it off, and there will be questions.”
Rafian placed his wine glass on the counter and walked over to his wife. Kneeling in front of her, he took her ring finger, slipped it into his mouth, and slid it out slowly.
Rienne began giggling uncontrollably. “Stop! I’m being serious, hon. How are we going to do this?”
Rafian got up from his knees, sat beside her, and examined the ring himself. “It is beautiful,” he said matter-of-factly. “I had it crafted by a close friend. The ring itself is made from Ranalese Drake tissue, and those are bits of death crystal around it.”
Rienne looked as if she couldn’t draw breath. “This must cost a fortune!” she yelled, and Rafian laughed.
“It did, but you’re worth it. The cost is merely a physical symbol to show others how much you mean to me, Ree. We can keep in hiding as long as you wish, but there are other alternatives—”
Before Rafian could continue, Rienne kissed him to silence whatever he was going to say, because it was a dialogue she knew would come up eventually.
After a time, she spoke. “I know the alternative, Raf, but they would never let me go so easily. For you, I know switching sides is not an option, so it remains a choice I would have to make. This secrecy we have—it gets tiring, and our mistakes will grow. I don’t wish to continue like that.”
Standing up and walking away in deep thought, Rafian pondered. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your livelihood, Ree, and if the Felitians lay one finger on you, it would unleash something within me that I swear they would regret. Let’s drop it for now and enjoy our time together. The future will play itself out as it wishes.”
