by Greg Dragon
~ * ~ * ~
For a couple of weeks Rafian shadowed Riyah, hanging out at the saloon while she worked. He made up a past to satisfy the questions and when they asked him his race he told them he was part Tyheran—which was the planet that Talula orbited. Tyherans looked like Vestalian with the exception of their pupils, which held tiny stars that twinkled on and off. “Part Tyheran and what else?” would be the follow-up question and he would tell them that he didn’t know his father.
Pretty soon they accepted him and they knew why he was there: to keep Ryah Mist safe. He and the woman grew closer and closer and a relationship developed between them. At first she tried to pay him for keeping her watch, but Rafian would refuse and tell her that the hotel where they stayed was quite enough. His main concern was regaining his memory so he didn’t mind the saloon, since it allowed him to sit for long periods of time and mull over the blank picture inside of his head.
Rafian and Riyah shared a bed and he listened to her stories every night. He had no tales of his own to share, but he enjoyed her company and cherished the time that they had together.
As they spent more time in the saloon, Rafian made friends with a man by the name of Corren Fox. Corren had a slight build and a crop of orange hair, which seemed to be the fashion on Talula. Rafian recognized him as the same man who had shot the two pursuers when he first came into town, and they became quick friends after some conversation.
Corren’s specialty was armed robbery, and he lived very well due to his success. He was a master of flying under the radar and his skills with a pistol helped him to stay anonymous. After warming up to Rafian enough to trust him, Corren asked if they could speak business one night in the hotel.
When he arrived, Riyah answered the door to let him in, and he sat across from Rafian, staring at her hungrily, as if he couldn’t help himself. Who could blame him? While at home, Riyah always wore transparent, silken, body-length robes that showed off her shapely body.
“You want Riyah, don’t you, Corren?” Rafian asked with a sly glint in his eye, and Riyah shot him a glance that could level buildings.
Laughing out loud, Corren shook off the question and without breaking a sweat, started talking to Rafian. “Hey, I heard about how you fileted her pimp. You’re a pretty big guy and you know your way around a fight. Do you want to use some of that to help me rob these trade union folks? If we score, you could be on a ship off of this moon in less than a month.”
“Why would I want to leave the moon?” Rafian asked, glancing at Riyah.
“To go to the floating, fat tick; that is, that big blue planet up there, that’s why. Nothing but nobles with jewels on their pudgy fingers, waiting for guys like us to pop them off.” He made a gesture to indicate what he meant. “Look, I know you take care of your girl, that’s what you do, but you could put one of those rings on her pretty little finger. Eh?”
Rafian became a little annoyed when Riyah plopped down next to him. Numbing the urge to shoo her away, he looked into Corren’s blue eyes and answered, “I’ll need a weapon of some sort if I’m going to help. I have no weapons here, and we don’t have that kind of money.”
As if to answer, Corren slid a pistol across the table. Rafian picked it up, measuring the heft and studying it carefully. “You seem to know guns,” Corren said, seeming surprised. He looked at Riyah, who simply shrugged.
After a time of some drinking, laughing, and discussion, Riyah went off to bed, and the real business was discussed. The plan was to rob one of Corren’s gangster contacts when he was on his route the next day. The plans were laid out over three hours, and Corren took off while Rafian headed into the room to join Riyah.
She was waiting in bed with her back to the door, lying on her side and feigning sleep. When Rafian settled down beside her, she sat up and powered on the lamp sitting on the bedside table next to her. “What the hell was that?” she asked, her sparkling pupils going dull in what he assumed was a sign of rage.
“Are you upset with me about something?” Rafian asked, confused, and she began to curse at him in a language he was unfamiliar with. The earpiece had made it quick to pick up the language of the patrons that frequented the saloon, but Luca had twelve planets and Riyah was educated, so she cursed him out with words he had never heard before. When she realized that he did not understand, she switched back to the common tongue. She let him know that she was hurt at his attempt to play pimp when he first introduced Corren to her.
“Are you not a prostitute?” Rafian asked, his face a mask of concern. “I was just trying to help you score another customer.” When the words fell out of his mouth, he instantly regretted them as he watched Riyah turn away from him and switched off the lamp. “Rhiya …” he started.
“No,” she said quietly and took a trembling, deep breath. “I guess I misunderstood what this was.”
Memory 16 | Broken Wings
With blood running down his arm, Rafian VCA ducked behind the mining facility in hopes of seeing his friend Corren emerge. His brain was throbbing as the blood rushed through his veins from the excitement of the previous hour.
The heist had gone down flawlessly, but the two men had not accounted for their victim’s history. When the trap was sprung, they realized all too late that he was a high-ranking Felitian official. Not only was the man an official, but he was also one hell of a martyr. He had tripped a homing signal as he fell to his death, which sent the authorities in the direction of Corren and Rafian.
When the troopers came in firing, Corren was killed and Rafian hit the fields and escaped into the wilderness. He felt lonely and stupid as he ran through the bush. What were we thinking? he thought. Soon there would be vids displaying info about them. Every starport would bear his likeness on their screens, and then the bounty hunters would come.
His mind turned to Riyah as he ran towards a spent reactor bin outside the saloon, and by coincidence, he spotted her walking up to begin her work. “Psst! Riyah! Over here!” Rafian motioned to the beauty, and she rolled her eyes and walked over to him.
“We have to get out of here tonight, Riyah. Corren is dead, and I am in a lot of trouble. We crossed the Felitians, and I was caught on vid. Everyone knows who I am around here, and they know that you’re with me!”
Riyah suddenly looked lost and confused. Her eyes glazed over as she slumped down by the alley wall as if depressed.
“No one makes it out of here if they’re wanted, Rafian,” she said and looked up at him with a look of disappointment. “Maybe we can lie low for a while, you know, till they assume you’re dead or just forgotten. I can make us enough money to live on, and—”
Her words made Rafian more desperate. “Riyah, you are always with me. What part of this are you not understanding? They will turn you in and force you to talk, and then you will lose your freedom because of me!”
