by Greg Dragon
He seemed suddenly lost in thought, and he shook his head slowly as he spoke.
“She hasn’t been whole since then, and it wounds me to see her suffer silently without the ability to fix it. But the amnesia, the fight to liberate your planet, our spat, our marriage, you! You! Being here in my arms, where I can smell you, taste you, and know that I am yours as much as you are mine? I would do it a hundred times over if I had to. The loss of friends, family, and lovers is a pain that has become a part of me and I cannot ever shake it, but you are the goddess at my back, baby. There is absolutely no way I would change any of that.”
“You are so poetic, Rafian,” Marian replied in Tyheran—the way she always did whenever she spoke lightly from the heart. “You know, I never asked you if you wanted me to become a jumper here, or if it would bother you that I want to fight.” She had moved over to his seat to sit on his lap, and she began to slowly take her hair down.
“When I met you, you were a soldier, babe. When I brought you back, I expected that you would continue to be one. We are warriors. I am no working husband, and you are no meek housewife. We are meant to kill and liberate, to command men and women who follow our charge, and to protect the crystals that were gifted to us by the Watchers.”
The brandy bottle was empty, and Marian’s thick, dark curls were out, enveloping her perfect breasts while tickling Rafian’s nose as she leaned in.
“You forgot one other thing that we warriors are meant to do while we are here, my husband.”
Rafian kissed her lips hard and let his arms envelope her naked waist as she dropped the last of her armor on the floor.
“Thype!” she said with a devilish grin on her face. “We are here to thype, so…Commander, if I may speak freely, shut up with the poetry and make love to your wife!”
* * *
The knock on the door was light and barely audible. Marian was fast asleep, and she had her arms and legs wrapped so tightly around Rafian that it was as if she meant to entrap him there until she awoke. Rafian tickled her nose so that she would react and free him from her clutches, and then he donned a robe and answered the door.
“Hi!”
It was Vani; her big, beautiful brown eyes were distracting as Rafian stared at her, wondering what it was she wanted at this late hour. Pulling her inside, he motioned to the upstairs room to let her know Marian was sleeping and walked her to the kitchen, where his and Marian’s armor was everywhere—evidence of their passionate strip and lovemaking session, which he knew that Vani was quite aware of. She was absolutely stunning, wearing a red 3B suit that revealed every curve of her perfect body and silken flats with the letter H for Helysian woven in gold on the tops of them. He sat with her on the couch and offered her a drink, which she promptly took and gulped quickly.
“What’s on your mind, Vee?” he asked as he sat down next to her.
She looked at him as if wondering if she should tell him.
“When we last left off, it was horrible, Raf, absolutely horrible. You were my first love.…I cried over you for a month after we split, and I was too upset and angry to even talk to you about it, so I avoided you. Do you know how it feels to harbor those feelings and then, when you get over them and want to go make up with your friend, you learn that he disappeared and may have even been killed?”
Her admission took him a moment to absorb. He got up to get a napkin for her to dry her tears, which were running freely. Vani kept on talking as she nodded and fanned herself rapidly to try to calm down.
“I shouldn’t be here. I know that it’s late, and it’s extremely inappropriate to your wife, but it’s me…and it’s you, so it should be OK! And oh, Raf, I’m so sorry!”
She hugged him as she did before, as if she would never let go.
“I don’t even know what we were fighting over, Vee.…I just know that you were my girl, and I loved you more than the world. You were there for me when Kim crushed me, and you were a good, loyal girlfriend. You do have a temper…heh! But you are still the stunning beauty whom I thought was an angel when I first came onboard this ship.”
Vani was blushing and held his hand in hers as she breathed deeply and savored the moment, as if she never wanted it to end. It was beginning to get uncomfortable, so Rafian quickly complimented her and snatched his hand back from her soft palms.
“So…congratulations on your rank, Vee! You were always a brilliant strategist, and I am glad they finally gave you some of the props you deserve.”
Vani took on a different expression—one of anger and hurt. There was a silence that followed before she replied, and when she did, there was trembling in her voice.
“Hell ya, Rafian.…They finally gave me my damn stripes after I got us out of a Geralos ambush near the Merudian moon. It took that sort of craziness for them to finally acknowledge me, and it makes me so angry!”
Her voice trailed off, and she slumped into the couch and took another drink.
“So, any kids? Husband?” Rafian asked, changing the subject quickly to avert the awkward air.
Vani shook her head as if the thought were absurd. “You were probably the only guy I would have considered the family thing with, Rafian. It hasn’t been easy on the ship. To be quite honest, I am thinking about transferring somewhere else.”
“How about you come join us on Vestalia?”
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Join you where?”
She was doing one of her funny faces, and Rafian laughed despite himself. It was such a real laugh that it got back to her, and she too began laughing. He explained to her that he led a new order of fighters and that she was welcome to join them when they raided Vestalia. She was very much onboard with the idea of touching a planet after spending a lifetime onboard the ship.
He walked her to the door and told her to be prepared, because their departure would be sudden and she would need to be prepared to jump with them when it happened. Vani was in heaven with the thought of finally leaving, and as she neared the door, she turned and placed her back against it, scanned the upstairs bedroom door to see if it was still closed, and looked at Rafian with a familiar glint in her eye.
“Come here,” she said, and Rafian was puzzled at her intent.
Without much thought, he came closer to her, and she threw her arms around his neck, stuck her tongue in his mouth, and kissed him longingly.
“Tell Marian I’m sorry, Rafian, but I have been waiting three years to tell you I’m sorry and to remind you who your original betrothed was. Now you go back to her. You’re lucky, Marian! Get some sleep, and don’t forget me when you leave. I love you.”
And with that, she was out the door and gone.
Rafian stood at the door for a very long time afterwards.
“Is that going to be a problem?”
The voice made Rafian spin around and look up as Marian materialized at the edge of the balcony looking down at him. Her silken robes were blowing gently from the vent’s cool air, giving her the appearance of a powerful witch who had come to wreak havoc on anyone below her. It made him suddenly embarrassed to know that she had been watching them the whole time and probably wondering why he had allowed Vani to kiss him the way she did and more.
She didn’t appear angry, but her voice had an edge to it that let him know she was not amused with Vani’s actions or her words.
“Is she going to be a problem, or will I have to cut out that little tongue of hers and shove it up her ass?” Marian continued as she began to gracefully descend the stairs, wine glass in hand and an aloof expression on her face.
“It has been a long time, Marian. I don’t think she meant anything by it. Just emotions and being caught up in the moment, you know? Can we drop it?” Rafian asked, suddenly feeling exhausted by the drama.
Marian pushed her body against his and began to kiss him.
“I trust you, Rafian, you know this. Your body is no longer mine, but I worry for your heart, and those words that girl spoke really hurt me.” She
jabbed a finger painfully into his chest and spat the words out in the harshest way.
“Your heart is mine! I don’t care who the original was, who your childhood sweetheart was, or who thinks they know you better than I do. You are mine, and if she so much as asserts anything different again, like somehow she holds claim to you, I will become extremely upset!”
She had her lips pressed against his ear as she said this, and she pushed him down on the couch and straddled him before dropping her concealed knife. She always had a knife.
“These women of yours, Rafian—they are many, and they pop up all over the damn place. I knew when we got together that it was going to be a challenge, but this is annoying. I do not want to—”
Rafian put his finger to her lips and silenced her.
“They will know their place where you are concerned, Marian. Let us drop it, OK?”
And hearing the words that she sought from her husband, she lowered herself upon him and commenced their nightly ritual.
Memory 23 | Genocide
It was the seventh season of cold when the dictator Palus Felitious took command of the planet known as Tyhera and set his palace in the center of a large city named Veece, in the country of Apun. On the surface, Palus’s doctrines seemed to be good for the people. He made sure no one went hungry, and the machines of industry were recharged and fired to again bring about technology to a world that had gotten used to making do without it. “All hail Palus” and “Long live the Felitians!” were the battle cries of those who believed in him, and they relished the idea of his new world order. Among these loyalists were a man named Vinsyn Laren and his wife, Claryn. The couple were frequent victims of the gangs who ran Tyhera prior to the Palus “cleansing,” and they were happy for the new ruler since he not only removed the gangs from power but made gory examples of them.
Vinsyn was particularly fired up by the dictator and would complain about the rule that soldiers needed to be young, because this excluded him and he wanted to take up arms and join. Their new home held a picture of Felitious, decorated to the nines with medals, titles, and the defiant smirk he always wore on his tanned, mustached face. Claryn was not as hardcore a fan of Felitious as her husband was, but she was appreciative of him for fixing the chaos and bringing about some sort of leadership that would make sure those innocents could survive. She was for revenge when it came to the thugs that the Felitian Empire was routing out day by day under heavy fire.
One of the gang’s atrocities carried out on the Laren family was the kidnapping of their daughter, Wharena, a beautiful young girl of sixteen whom they held hostage for years in order for Vinsyn to pay them monthly. When the Felitians began the war to take back the streets, Vinsyn had set out himself to rescue his daughter and found that she had become the willing wife to the gang’s leader. She not only tried to kill her father but took her own life when her captor and husband were beheaded publicly by the Felitian lord that Palus put in charge of their city. The Larens never recovered from what the gangs had done to them, and when Claryn delivered a new baby girl after a number of years, they took her to their lord, Okov Wilder, to offer her up as his betrothed.
Okov was a warrior who had been given his station due to his outstanding record of military service. Unlike his peers of noble birth who held similar stations, he found this ritual of marrying off babies to grown men to be odd. What he promised the Larens instead of marriage was that their daughter would be a baroness within his city. She would be the first of her line, and due to Vinsyn’s commitment and loyalty to their now-emperor Palus, her offspring would be regarded as nobles just as she was with her newly appointed title. Little Rienne Laren was therefore born into privilege and immense love, a Felitian gem to be cared for by the military and their lord. She was given the best education, including fencing lessons by a private tutor, and when she was old enough to enlist, she did so to make her father proud and rose in its ranks to become a captain.
She was fierce and one-dimensional in her focus, and it led to her being given the nickname Rienne the Rapier, as her fencing arm had impaled many rebels, and her direction was always straight to the point, very much like her blade. For someone this focused and brainwashed within a system, only a devastating situation could break her from the path in order for her to see why their otherwise peaceful country would have rebels in the first place. Rienne’s doubts about the empire she was a part of came when she turned twenty-one and was enlightened to the actions of her superiors.
* * *
“Genocide?”
Rienne was in shock as she looked over the tablet that she held in front of her, scanning the various names and belongings of the people who had been “cleansed” by what was being called a patriot army. General Qeran Kyle had acquired these “patriots” to remove refugees who were living within Tyhera. She could not understand the need for so cruel a command—unless the refugees posed a threat to the very fabric of Felitian life. She could not even fathom where the refugees came from, and she wondered if they really deserved to be treated so cruelly.
“Why are we doing this, Celene? How long has this been going on?”
The question was thrown at the heavyset corporal who had brought her the tablet. She was standing at attention, looking at the ceiling the way soldiers were commanded to stand when facing a noble.
“Oh, for Maker’s sake, at ease, girl! How many times do I have to tell you that the formal codes need not apply to me?”
The corporal relaxed and looked at her with exasperation. Though the pair had practically grown up together, Rienne did not know the amount of scolding and punishment Celene had withstood for behaving casually with the young baroness. They were alone in the office for a time, though, so she felt comfortable in speaking freely with Rienne Laren. She walked behind the desk where Rienne’s combat boots were sitting neatly to the side, a habit the soldiers made fun of without her knowing it. Rienne hated boots. As a young girl she would always be scolded for running about in bare feet because a baroness must have a perfect outward appearance, and dirty feet was a privilege afforded only to the poor and those without title. She hated the rules that were placed on her due to title. She found them to be sexist and archaic in their construct and saw no need to follow them.
Celene leaned over and whispered into her ear. “It was Red Kyle. He says that refugees will bring a vicious race called the Geralos here, and that if we allow them to live and breed within our society, their mystic ways will put us into a galactic war that will destroy the progress that we have worked for.”
The Felitians feared outsiders, and the thought of a foreign military organizing to come into their galaxy to harvest humans was all the excuse they needed to vilify and destroy the refugees. Over a hundred thousand people had traveled light speed to the galaxy of Luca when the Geralos scourge took over Ceronika Prime. A large number of them emigrated to the planet of Tyhera and started families. It was very easy to spot them due to the pigment of their skin, the Qyeran in their pupils (diamond-like spots), and their foreign speech.
When the refugees originally jumped to take up homes in this new galaxy, their story touched many inhabitants of the various planets. However, when people such as Qeran Kyle and Palus Felitious heard it, their deepest worries were piqued, and before long, the outsiders were disappearing from their homes. A process of removing the mystic properties from the captives and changing the blood to be more like that of Lucan natives led to many people dying or living out miserable lives as blind cripples. One of these cripples was a man named Jeonah RAE, an ex-soldier from Cholde, Ceronika, who had fled with his wife after she convinced him that life would be better for their children.
Jeonah witnessed his wife and four children sacrificed to the “process” and started a rebellion with aims to overthrow the Felitian power structure. It was this rebellion that Rienne was enlisted to stop, and when she finally learned the reason the people of her world would want to rebel against their leaders, she felt confusion and betrayal, al
ong with other emotions such as shame.
“I feel like I need to throw up!”
Rienne was staring at the tablet as if it were a bomb, and Celene had told her they had ten minutes before it destroyed the entire planet. She hopped to her feet and threw it against the wall. The mercurial particles exploded like a grenade, and Celene ducked and rolled off to the side in order to avoid the fragments flying everywhere.
“We are going to pay for these atrocities, Celene. Do you understand that we will be the bad guys when our history is read to our youth?”
Celene stood still, not knowing what to do about her angry baroness or what to say to make her calm down. Rienne was on her feet with her palms planted on the desk. She was looking down at the surface, processing what she could do in her lowly position to end the evil that her emperor was making them fight for. She had been in thought for roughly fifteen minutes when she turned to Celene.
“Celene, could you please bring me all of the records that we have on this genocide and everyone who is involved with it. I would also like you to swear me a blood oath that our conversation here, the actions that you have seen me perform and my obvious disappointment in our military, is to stay between the two of us.”
Looking up from the desk to stare coolly at her friend, Rienne then uttered, “If it were not for our relationship, Celene, I would have to kill you. Please appreciate that our friendship stays my hand, and do not let me regret trusting you with this secret.”
Celene quickly nodded and swore the oath before asking Rienne if there was anything else she could do for her. Rienne waved her off with a little smile to let her know that she appreciated her. She then sat as Celene hurriedly exited the office, stepping past the tablet fragments as she did. When Rienne went home to her Veece apartment that evening, she thought about the situation and solutions that would help her right the wrong of the movement that she was now an officer of.
