Alliance of Serpents (18 page)

"Aye, Sir." Tradek acknowledged with a nod of
his head. It took a mere two button command to set the starship
into motion, rotating away from the Vezulian Armada to face their
destination. Another three button clicks and the engines came to
life with a brief whir before catapulting the
Refuge
away
from Terranias, away from the Kyrosen, and away from the Vezulian
Armada. It would take several days to reach the Aeden Outpost,
making head-start seem minuscule, but even at top speed, the
Black Eagle
could only match the speed of the
Refuge.
Long-range starfighters had a chance to catch up, and even some of
the assault transports, but such ships would be cannon fodder for
the
Refuge
and her fighter squadrons. And since Kindel
stubbornly refused to fly in anything but his flagship,
he
wouldn't be able to catch them, and that in turn kept Arus safe.
For the time being, anyway.

Kitreena's hand was on his shoulder, he
realized. She was looking up at him with sparkling blue eyes of
compassion. "You can't save everybody all the time, Damien. I know
you want to—I do too!—but you just can't. It isn't possible."

She'd once told him that his compassion for
others could be used against him. Truth be told, he agreed with
her. To allow his compassion to get in the way of duty would
compromise his judgment, and enemies would be all too willing to
exploit such a weakness.
Emotions have no place on the
battlefield,
he told himself over and over.

"Sir, we have a transmission incoming from
Outpost Twelve," Lieutenant Merille Tears reported. She was the
blond-haired human with fair skin who operated the communications
array. "Shall I connect?"

Damien nodded as he headed over to the
console. Merille typed a quick command before flipping the silver
switch beside the speaker. "This is Admiral Vaenin from Aeden
Outpost Twelve. How are you, Damien?"

"We're well, Admiral," Damien answered as
Kitreena moved beside him. "The
Refuge
is underway now. We
should reach Outpost Twelve in approximately six days."

"That's excellent news," the elegant voice of
Vaenin responded. The Thanai were known for their gentle demeanor
and vast wisdom, and it showed in every aspect of their beings.
"You have the boy, then?"

"He is with us, yes. We're in the process of
devising a plan of action regarding the Vezulian Armada's
intentions toward him."

Vaenin laughed. "Don't worry, he'll be plenty
safe here. I assume the Kyrosen transfer proceeded as
expected?"

"Yes, Sir. I wish I could say it had
not."

"Very well. I'm going to take the matter to
the Aeden High Council this evening. Hopefully we'll be able to
come up with some kind of strategy to confront this new
threat."

Damien nodded, not even considering that the
admiral couldn't see him. "Keep me informed. I have no doubt that
Thorus is going to be right on my tail as soon as the Kyrosen are
onboard whatever cruiser he's assigned them to. Kindel and Truce
both want Arus, and it is imperative that we keep both him and his
implant out of their hands."

"Agreed. I will report all of this to the
Council and get back in touch with you tomorrow. In the meantime,
try to get some rest. I can't imagine the past couple of weeks have
been easy on you. And don't push that daughter of yours too hard,
either. She's proven herself to be a fine soldier, but she is still
a child, after all."

Kitreena opened her mouth, but Damien clapped
his hand over it. "Yes, Sir. I'll do that," he said, struggling to
keep her quiet. "Damien out."

As soon as Merille flipped the comm switch,
he released his grip on Kitreena. "I am no child!" she growled,
kicking the side of the terminal. "Who does he think he is?"

Damien couldn't help but chuckle. "Relax,
Kit. It's a common misconception. You're only fifteen, after
all."

She growled again as she headed for the lift.
"Whatever. If you need me, I'll be in the gym."

When the door closed behind her, Damien
turned back to the crew. "Everyone stay clear of the gym for a
while."

*******

Arus' late afternoon workout ended as soon as
he saw Kitreena enter through the far door. He was seated on one of
the weight simulation machines when she arrived, chatting with
Rollock, the long-eared alien with a single nostril and pink skin.
A peaceful race called the Svodesians, Rollock's people were among
the first to accept the protection of the Aeden Alliance during its
initial formation. Many a good soldier had come from their
homeworld, according to Rollock, and from what Arus had seen of him
and the other Svodesians onboard, there was no reason to doubt that
claim. He had been telling Arus of how he'd come to join the
Alliance when Kitreena entered.

"So," he was saying in a scratchy voice that
reminded Arus of the sound teeth might make if they were scraped
across cement, "when the Aeden recruiter came to me and suggested I
join, it was an easy decision to make. I mean, it seemed like the
best place to put my skills to good use." Rollock's age nearly
tripled Arus' own, though in Svodesian measure of age and maturity,
that was considered younger. He had an arrogant way of speaking,
though through Arus' conversations with Rollock and several other
Svodesians, he'd come to believe that they meant no harm by it.
What humans perceived as bragging was viewed to Svodesians as
simply stating the truth. They did not look down on people of
inferior abilities, but they did not make light of it either. It
was going to take time to learn the subtleties of the different
races of the galaxy. A long time.

Then again, Rollock could've been verbally
tearing Arus to shreds at that moment and the boy wouldn't have
noticed. His gaze was locked on Kitreena, who donned a pair of
fingerless black gloves and proceeded to beat the stuffing out of
the lone training dummy set up on the far end of the gym. Her eyes
spoke of fury—not that it was a new emotion for her—and her fists
pounded into the dummy's chest with remarkable speed. There were
several other soldiers in the gym, each working either on weight
training or sword technique, but most of them made a hasty exit
when she appeared. It took only a few moments for Arus to realize
that Rollock had stopped speaking. When he looked over at the
machine where the Svodesian had been working out, he found
Rollock's eyes fixed on Kitreena uneasily. "Well, I've got to be
heading back," he said without looking at Arus. "I'll see you here
tomorrow?"

Arus nodded, though he wanted to ask what had
put the fear of the Maker into everyone. "I'll be here."

Rollock left with the two remaining soldiers,
leaving Arus alone with Kitreena in the gym. She delivered two hard
blows to the dummy's head before stopping, head bowed so that her
hair obscured her face. Arus didn't move, unsure as to what he
should do. Had Kitreena reserved the gym for a private workout at
this time?

"Aren't you going to run away from me, too?"
Her voice startled him. He hadn't thought she'd seen him, let alone
notice that everyone else was gone.

"They didn't run away," he told her, though
he knew what he'd seen. He rose from the machine and crossed the
gym. "What makes you think that?"

She still didn't look at him. "They always
do. I don't know why. Damien says I'm too intense in my workout.
Naelas told me it's because they don't want to be under the eye of
the ship's first officer. But I don't think that's it at all."

She sounded sad, which was unusual for her.
Kitreena had been solid as a rock since the day he'd met her. He'd
seen her go from being furious to something that could almost be
called happiness, but never sad. "What do you think it is,
then?"

Her sniffle was confirmation of his
suspicion. "They're afraid of me. Too many of them saw what
happened to me on Terranias, and I have no doubt that the stories
have spread across the ship by now. And there are probably thirty
variations of it all, too. They think I'm a monster. I know it. And
maybe I am."

Arus wanted desperately to comfort her in
some way, but he knew how easy it was to anger her, and he didn't
want to worsen the situation. "I don't think you're a monster."

When she finally looked up at him, the tears
he expected to see were not there. Her eyes were certainly filled,
but she was holding them back with every last shred of dignity she
could muster. "That's because you don't know me well enough
yet."

It was the opening Arus had been waiting for.
With a big smile, he stepped toward her and extended his hand.
"Then let's change that!" She looked at him like he was a lunatic.
"C'mon, let's go get a bite to eat and talk." It was strange to
hear the words come from his own mouth, especially as confident as
they were. Back home, he was a quivering wreck whenever Katlyn even
said so much as "hello" to him. And though he'd felt that way when
he first met Kitreena, the more time he spent with her the more
comfortable he felt. That was something he could never have said
about Katlyn.

Kitreena eyed him for moment, and her
telepathic connection to him sprang to life.
You won't like me,
Arus. No one does once they get to know me.

"You don't know that," he responded to her
thoughts. For once, she didn't seem angry with him for hearing
them. "C'mon, give me a chance. It can't hurt."

"Why would you want to befriend me?" she
asked him.

His initial response never reached his lips,
but the mere fact that he thought of it at all was enough for
Kitreena to hear it.
Besides the fact that you're beautiful?
His face turned red immediately. Hers, too.

She opened her mouth to reply, but instead of
resisting further, she simply asked, "Can you meet me at the lift
in about an hour? I'd like to clean up a bit before we eat."

Arus looked down at his own sweat-drenched
clothes. He'd been working out since they'd come back from speaking
with Muert, practicing his sword techniques and building strength
with the weight machines. If either of the two of them needed to
wash, it was him. "I could use a cleaning myself," he admitted.
"One hour. The lift. I'll be there."

He was sure he wasn't supposed to see it, but
she wiped her eyes as he headed for the door. Once he was in the
hall, he sprinted toward his room so fast that he nearly tripped
over his own feet. If Vultrel had been around, Arus would've had a
million questions to ask—Vultrel had always known how to treat the
girls, after all—but that was certainly not an option. Even Damien
would've been able to give a little advice, Arus was sure, but the
only familiar face he came across on the run to his room was Doc
Nori.

"Ah, Arus!" the old man waved, unconsciously
stroking his beard with his other hand. "What has you in such a
hurry today?"

Arus skidded to a halt just outside the door
to his room. "Doctor!" he called, motioning for the old man to meet
him.

Nori sidestepped a few passing soldiers and
joined him. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Do you know anything about women?" Arus
panted.

The doctor's eyes nearly burst right through
his glasses. "My word," he murmured, "I wasn't expecting to have to
teach
that
lesson today."

"I just need to know how to treat a girl on a
date. Can you help with that?"

A relieved look came to Nori's face. "Ah,
yes. Well, I'm a bit out of practice, but I may be able to give you
a few pointers that could help—"

Arus grabbed the sleeve of Nori's white coat
and dragged him through the door. "C'mon!"

The shower felt good against Arus' back,
especially after the long training session he'd put himself
through. But sore muscles and achy joints were the last things on
his mind. Outside the washroom, Doc Nori rambled on about the
details of proper treatment of ladies. Every so often he would
innocently prod for the identity of the girl that had caught his
eye, though Arus knew full-well that the doctor was aware of his
interest in Kitreena. It was a lot to remember, and most of it
likely wouldn't apply to Kitreena—she'd likely be more insulted
than anything else if he tried to order food for her—but Nori did
provide a few good tips for conversation dealing with etiquette and
such.

By the time he ran the brush through his hair
and pulled on a sleeveless blue shirt to go with his baggy tan
pants, the old man had moved onto the subject of kissing. "It is an
art form, you see, one that many cultures treat as the most
important—"

Arus waved a dismissive hand as he slipped
his feet into his boots. "I'm not going to be kissing anyone
tonight, Doc. I just want to enjoy her company, and I hope she'll
enjoy mine."

"Many women appreciate that, they do," the
old man said with a thoughtful finger on his chin, "though many
others do not. Some view a reluctance to kiss to mean that—"

"Trust me," Arus said with a chuckle, "this
girl will not want me pressing myself on her like that. Truthfully,
I wouldn't want to push things that fast anyway. I don't even know
if she views this as a date or not. I just asked if she wanted to
get something to eat with me."

"Myself, I respect that," Nori responded
while Arus tied his grey bandana around his head. "Too many people
move too fast these days."

Finally, Arus gave himself one last look in
the mirror. Aside from the wretched implant, he was as clean and
neat as he was going to get. "Don't worry, I'm in no rush." He
glanced at the counter to his left where he left his sword and
considered latching it to his belt. He rarely went anywhere without
it, but was a date the proper place for a weapon?

As if the question had been spoken aloud, Doc
Nori shook his head. "Leave it, young one. My, my, my, what state
would the universe be in if men and women carried
weapons
 while courting each other?"