Phew, another long chapter. Again a way of making up for the distance between updates. Unfortunately I got distracted by the world, and studies have been getting progressively more difficult.
As per usual, reviews are always welcome.
And also, Nero is not mine.
Chapter Seven: Dinner With A Nice Glass Of Punch In The Face.
The Sanctum was the premium bar and club of Paradise City. On the outside, it was an obscure little doorway with two huge bouncers on either side. It was built underground with four floors. The first was where the average person went for a bite to eat or a mild drink. Below that, you could find something stronger, with an open dance floor and good music. A lot of people went there to enact business deals or to unwind after a long day. The third floor was where the drinks got stronger, the music louder and the floor employed actual dancers. Not as many people frequented the third floor, and those who did were not to be trifled with. The fourth floor was essentially the VIP lounge, and you had to know somebody to get in there. It was the only level whose patrons were allowed to carry weapons, mainly because of how few were and what they paid to get in.
The Sanctum was owned by a Hyshian named Venaida, and she had the manpower and the strength to keep order in her club, and employed an extensive staff to support the no weapons rule. In order to step foot into even the first floor of the Sanctum, you had to leave your weapons and armor in a locker that was locked with an optical and fingerprint scanner. That way, if a fight did break out it could be neutralized before any real damage happened. Or they just let it run its course, depending on where you were and who you were fighting.
Fortunately for Nero, he was not expected to follow the rest of the crew as they dropped out of the ship to go get a drink. Instead he sat on his bed reading one of the many fictional pieces of literature that filled the ship. He had to admit that it was a decent cruiser with excellent accommodations, and the bed was rather comfortable. But as the evening passed into night, he found that he would soon have to investigate the quality of the food.
Setting down the vid screen, he reluctantly unfolded his legs and stood from the bed. There was a small pressure in the back of his head indicating Elora's presence. As he navigated to the kitchen the pressure eased and the scent of something cooking became stronger. There was a single light on in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of soft humming. Silently stepping into the room he was greeted with the silhouette of Elora bent over the counter, mixing together bread crumbs and different seasonings. Her hair was held back in a loose clip; a few strands escaped the restraint and fell around her face gently. She had an absorbed, peaceful expression on her face as she worked and didn't look up even when he was only a few steps away.
"What are you making?" He asked lightly, fighting laughter when she jumped, flinging the breading across the room.
"Shit you scared the hell out of me! Don't sneak up on me like that." She glared, kneeling down to lift the broken pieces of the small bowl.
"I'm sorry. Here, let me." Taking the shards of glass he threw them in the disposal bin, gathering all of the breading with a small amount of energy. It floated in a small ball just above the counter before drifting down to rest in another bowl.
"Now that my heart rate has regulated, I was going to make parmesan chicken with penne pasta and a rich red sauce. Why, are you hungry?" She asked grumpily, going to the refrigerator and setting out a plate of chicken breasts.
"I could eat." He nodded warily, leaning back against the island counter as the woman moved around.
"Good, then you can help. Start boiling these noodles." Shoving a kettle into his chest, there was a box of pasta unopened inside it. Turning away in dismissal, Elora cracked some eggs into a bowl and started beating them together. Nero fought a small smile at her bossiness, filling the kettle with water and setting it on the stove. As the woman again became engrossed in what she was doing, Nero was allowed a moment to study her profile. She chewed on the bottom of her lip, blue eyes soft and deep with thought as she worked. The bridge of her nose was crooked as though it had been broken, and he noticed a small scar that ran along the edge of her lip. Her face was thin, but she seemed well fed and healthy. Without the armor she wore a black tank top, and tight leggings that fitted her form like a second skin.
"How do you want these?" He asked, flipping on the front burner.
"Al dente, if you don't mind." Setting the chicken aside on a plate, Elora went about chopping up some vegetables. The knife was chopping like a blur, the onions quickly becoming a small pile of fragments. For a few minutes they worked in silence but it was a comfortable silence and Nero was not inclined to try and break it.
"Why didn't you want to go topside?" She asked suddenly, once the chicken was baking over the bed of pasta and sauce.
"Ah, well I enjoy a friendly drink as much as the next guy however I'd rather not be packed in a hot, loud and sweaty box with hundreds of thoughts bouncing through my head about who wants to sleep with whom. Not to mention I couldn't likely go without you and you seemed too tired, making no indication that going topside would have been preferred." He answered, sitting up on one of the tall stools and folding his fingers together.
"I…oh, well that was very considerate of you I suppose. Thank you." Her nose wrinkled in surprise, gaze finding his with a shy smile before falling back to the ground. Nero didn't answer her, too busy analyzing the curious kick of his stomach when the woman had turned her smile to him, blue eyes gentle and confused. He wouldn't be surprised to find that none of her masters had ever taken a moment to consider her personal comfort, and the knowledge of finding someone who had suffered the same degradations as he did filled the man with an unshakable rage.
They had fallen into an awkward silence, Elora fidgeting nervously as she sat across from him constantly looking at the oven. He watched her reach over to fix her hair, following the trail of her arm to the gentle curve of one shoulder. He felt a strange sense of kinship with this woman and after watching the tenderness and care she displayed with the children at the orphanage the anger he'd harbored towards her for his ship had drained out of him. She was a good person that helped others in need and was fiercely protective of those she considered friends. That she was equally as loved was apparent from the uproar the Sentella had been in when she'd gone missing. He remembered that day he'd gone to see Syn and Hauk and they had been even more surly and agitated than normal.
"So tell me something." He began, pausing to form the thoughts spinning through his mind into a structured sentence.
"The ciliate is considered to be one of the most advanced of the prokaryotes being the only one to actually have an anal passage." She answered seriously, bursting out in laughter at his stunned look.
"I'm sorry, what?" The oven went off after that and she hopped off the stool, fetching some blue oven mitts and pulling the door open.
"You told me to tell you something. That's something isn't it?" The scent of baked chicken filled the room, mixing with the rich aroma of the pasta sauce and the bread that was still steaming on the counter.
"While I'm sure that's scientifically fascinating," he drawled looking over his shoulder to watch her spooning food on the plate, "it's not what I wanted to know."
"Ah well, it'll be good for making small talk. Wine?" She asked, setting a plate in front of him and pouring a glass of red wine.
"Yes please. What I was going to ask was whether there was any truth to the rumor that the Trisani people originated from you." He nodded gratefully, taking a sip. He was pleased to detect a sweet, fruity taste of the wine. It was aged well, definitely not the cheap stuff.
"Originated from me? Well I should think not, I'm far too young to be the mother of an entire species." She grinned wickedly, slicing into the chicken. At his thoroughly unamused expression she sobered, chewing the chicken thoughtfully.
"It is very possible I suppose. Not from all of us though, most likely the Tiarnas and the Firionbhan society. Time and emotion, they breed during Na Cúplála. You'll forgive me that I don't know much about this but if I had to hazard a guess I'd say a mutation occurred in some of their children and eventually telepathic capabilities became prominent." Elora had received a full education by Talasairian standards; however that unfortunately did not include discussing the other planets interbreeding. It used to be a big no-no to all of the Eilimhanis people though after they had successfully escaped the dark ages the people had become more liberal with their love. Just, not her people. They were still adamant that it was wrong to mix bloodlines.
"Why only on set days?" Now curious about this strange civilization the questions were more forthcoming.
"Well Tiarna'anam is entirely male. They repress their emotions and more bodily urges for the cold logic and clarity of mind so that they can better control and understand the time stream. As such they must interbreed with the Firionbha people who live on a much smaller planet that orbits their own closely. They are entirely female, representing feelings, emotions and all that jazz. As such their societies don't really mix well the Tiarnas find the Firionbhan to be illogical and foolish, the Firionbhan find the Tiarnas to be… ah," she waved her fork around vaguely fishing for the words, "empty husks of sexy men."
"What a charming image." Hesitantly chewing on a small piece of chicken, Nero was pleasantly surprised at the play of flavor across his tongue. It was actually rather quite good, and he cut off an even larger piece.
"Ah yes, they can be really vocal about such things. So I need to make just one more drop to get rid of the rest of these supplies. After that, I'm yours." She shrugged innocently, her words striking a dissonant chord to him.
"You're not mine, Captain Manningham. You don't belong to anyone. This is just a mildly inconvenient partnership." Speaking through gritted teeth he ripped off a chunk of bread and stabbed it into the sauce.
"I've heard that one before. But absolute power corrupts absolutely, so while you may have good intentions now; trust me when I say that they never last." She shrugged bitterly, taking a hearty gulp of the wine. Nero growled, grabbing her wrist in a grip that was as strong as iron yet soft as velvet. Blue eyes flew to his in wild surprise, body tensing and muscles coiling as though ready to flee at a moment's notice. He carefully flipped the hand over so that her palm was facing up to him, a jagged cut slicing across the center of her palm. A silver and ivory cuff slid down her forearm as he studied the limb thoughtfully, the stones glittering in the artificial light overhead.
"As someone who knows firsthand what you've experienced, I assure you I have no intention of controlling you." He murmured softly, fingers tracing lightly along the marred skin. Faint ghosts of pain hit him at the feathery touch, clinging to his mind against his will. Though Elora was quite skilled in shielding her thoughts from him, some experiences left echoes of sensation that he could pick up.
"You were a slave?" She asked incredulously, watching as Nero pushed back the collar of his shirt, exposing a scar that wound around his neck. He braced for sympathy or pity from the woman, but none came. It was his turn to stiffen in surprise when she leaned over the table to gently touch the scarred area.
"A neurocollar?" She spat angrily, the eyes fading from sky blue to a dark shade of navy.
"The most effective way to keep control of my powers." He shrugged, releasing his hold on the woman and returning to the dinner. Elora settled back in her seat and they fell into silence, eating the remainder of the food. Nero noticed the very somber, troubled look on her face, her anger surprising him. How readily she found anger for his behalf, indignant at the suffering inflicted upon others by being robbed of their will. Finishing her dinner she stood and placed the plate in the sink, pulling out the clip and tying her hair back as she began washing it. The poise of her silhouette reminded him of the dream he'd woken from earlier, and the raised and puckered scar on her shoulder was exposed by the tank top she wore. What that black shirt also exposed was a tattoo that rested on her other shoulder. It was written in red and black, the runes identical to the ones that he was quickly beginning to recognize as the written dialect of her people.
"If it is not too personal to ask, what does your tattoo say?" He asked lightly, coming to rinse his cleaned plate beside her, washing it and setting it into a strainer. The peals of her laughter filled the near empty ship once more, and the redhead dried her hands as she began cleaning up.
"It's adorable that you're worried about that being personal." Wiping down the counter, her mouth was turned up in amusement as she worked.
"Does that mean you're going to answer the question?" Crossing his arms in annoyance, he watched the woman with what could only be described as a grumpy expression. Not that she would ever tell him that, men that could kill a person without a passing thought were not referred to as grumpy unless by someone quite suicidal.
"It's the names of my family. The people that I would die for and a reminder that blood isn't what makes family." She answered honestly, gathering the glass and bottle of wine when she finished cleaning the kitchen.
"Ah, I see. Well Captain, I shall see you in the morning I suppose." He nodded, following her out of the room and returning back in the direction of his room.
"If you need me, or get bored being an antisocial hermit, I'll be in the media room watching some movies. You're welcome to join." Nero wasn't quite sure what made him agree—if asked he would claim temporary insanity—but somehow he found himself sitting on a large couch looking at a huge vid screen with some old comedy on. Elora was curled up beside him, a blanket wrapped around her as she forsook the glass and had taken to simply drinking the wine out of the bottle.
And she was warm. The solidity of her presence was resonating heat as efficiently as a radial heater, and though she sat entirely in silence he felt comfort at her being there. It was a stupid sensation, and he didn't like that he felt this way but he did. The woman beside him was strong, intelligent and capable, good qualities for anyone to have. It was more than that though; while she was all of those things, she also had a good heart and a sense of humor that had almost made him laugh once or twice. She wasn't someone who acted superior to others because of her status as a captain, but one who treated everybody on her equal. There was no denying that she was lovely, and he realized that he was slowly becoming attracted to her.
Good idea asshole, he thought angrily, fists clenching as he tried to subtly distance himself from her. Elora didn't notice, too engrossed in the movie as yet another laugh escaped her. It was a soft, breathy chuckle and he felt himself twitch in response to it. He suspected he really was going insane because at the moment he was entertaining thoughts of his hands buried deep in her hair and her body wrapped tightly around his.
"So that story you told the children, the one about how you met Nykyrian. Is that what really happened?" Filling the air with talk would, hopefully, distract him from the dangerously alluring path his mind was travelling.
"Huh? Oh, no. Not even close. I did steal that gem though, sold it on the black market for food for my sisters. Nykyrian crashed near our home; he was shot up pretty bad and unconscious. We brought him in and nursed him back to health. During that process my youngest sister Nikiah gleaned his past. She's much more attuned to her psychic abilities than the rest of us and so a lot more sensitive. After that, we just kind of stayed friends. We helped him out, he helped us. Somewhere between then and now I became an unofficial member of the Sentella I suppose." She shrugged, frowning when her commlink started buzzing. Pausing the movie Elora put the earpiece on and accepted the call, the smile falling from her face into a serious scowl as her eyes darkened once more.
"What's wrong?" The mood had subtly shifted and even without his powers he could tell that the woman was visibly agitated.
"We need to go to the Sanctum. I just got a call from Venaida that there was a bar fight on level three and Ava is missing." Standing, Elora shut the video off and headed straight to her cabin, movement tense and controlled. Nero followed, heading towards his own room and hastily pulling on his armor. When they met at the port door Elora hadn't gone through the same process as earlier, her face was clean of all but a light layer of makeup and her hair was tied back in the same messy bun as from earlier. And yet he found that the stony set of her face and the livid fury in her eyes were more intimidating.
"Are you ready to go?" She asked, adjusting her hold on the heavy blaster.
"Yeah, we don't have time to wait." He nodded, straightening as the air locks on the doors hissed to life.
"AADI stand by and keep the ship on lockdown until we get back. Anyone comes within thirty feet of this ship without being a part of the crew I want them dead, or maimed." She snapped harshly. Gone was the laughing woman who teased him earlier and in her place was Captain Manningham, a hard woman of tempered steel. Before him was the fierce warrior who had earned the respect of Nemesis and the Sentella, and she was out to draw blood.
"Understood Captain." AADI's voice was cool and controlled as always, and they stepped off the ship to a crowded docking port. The pair strode through the crowds quickly and efficiently, not bothering to pay attention to the crowds that were jostled out of their way. If anyone was offended by their actions, one look at the two heavily armed and armored pair had them swallowing their words. And the one person who had tried to pick a fight was left with a broken arm in a crumpled pile on the ground. Elora had taken his swing in stride, catching the man's wrist and using his momentum to snap his forearm with a sharp crack. He screamed in pain, before being discarded impassively as they continued on.
"Well, that was over quickly." Nero commented, following the woman's purposeful strides.
"That idiot is lucky he wasn't killed." She shook her head wryly, steps slowing as they approached the two bouncers standing on either side of the entrance to the Sanctum.
"Hold. You cannot enter the Sanctum armed." One rumbled, eyes covered by dark glasses as he held out one beefy hand to stop her.
"If one has a sharp wit and ready reflexes one is always armed, no?" She asked softly, passing a folded up piece of paper over to him. The bouncer took it, scanning the words quickly before nodding. His friend pulled open the door to usher them inside.
"Enjoy your night." Nero followed in mild confusion, the music soft and soothing as people enjoyed various meals. There was a hallway that wrapped around the front of the building, separating the main hall from the elevator that led to the lower levels. They rounded the corner, pushing through the crowd that was waiting for the elevator to wait in the front. Everyone seemed to give them a wide berth; armed patrons were incredibly uncommon, but not unheard of.
The elevator music was catchy chromatic tones, completely out of character with the hard, powerful music that was resonating from each floor that they stopped at. Nero closed his mind off to the voices around him, his head starting to ache from the sheer force of their presence. Beside him Elora rubbed her forehead lightly, no doubt experiencing much of the same. After what seemed like hours the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. The view that greeted them was a long, dark hallway. A few people loitered in the hall, wearing numerous levels of bodily protection and speaking quietly amongst themselves. The music was softer here, muted, and as they progressed down the hall he noticed that there were several doors. He expected them to go through the central door which no doubt led to the main suite, but instead Elora led them to a door on the left.
"Luka!" The room was medical, the remaining crew huddled inside with the navigator lying on the bed. There was a bandage around his leg that was stained red with blood, and his face was pale, pinched with pain.
"Oh, hey Captain." He offered weakly, warily eying Nexus who was approaching with a syringe filled with a green fluid.
"Be calm Luka, it is a pain suppressant." The Rugarion offered soothingly, injecting the man.
"What happened?" She asked, voice clipped.
"We were drinking, and Ava pulled me out to dance. Next thing I know a group of people come in and beat the living hell out of us. Even the bouncers had some trouble subduing them, and when we had everything all sorted out she was gone." Jae answered, gaze on the ground.
"I tried to help, but they got me right in the leg." Luka added, attempting to sit up as the pain eased from his features.
"I have absolutely no doubt that you all did everything that you could. Jae, get back to the ship and suit up. I'll talk to Venaida about checking the security cameras." Elora nodded, eyes gentle as she watched her crew.
"No need doll, I can do you one better." They all turned their attention to the woman that had entered the room. She was almost as tall as Jae, her hair falling down her back in thick braids. She commanded an air of feral power and respect, and walked with a confident swagger.
"Vena, it's been awhile. What can you do for me friend?" Elora asked , a small smile curving her lips.
"Two doors down we apprehended one of the mercenaries. A locked door with two guards on either side. And don't even think about asking me the code. I'll never tell you that its seven—three—five—nine." Feigning innocence, the Hyshian hugged the redhead in a familiar fashion, placing a light kiss on either cheek.
"I wouldn't dream of compromising you like that." Elora responded, lips pulling back into a dark grin.
"Good, because you know I don't approve bloodshed in my club. Though, if one were to get in that room I would ask that they cleaned up when they were done." Dark eyes hard, Venaida then turned her attention to Nexus and Luka.
"And you better take care of that boy doctor; he's one of my favorites." Winking lightly at the human who now had a blush across his face, the woman turned and left gone as quickly as she'd come.
"As vaguely disturbing as it is that you're her boy toy Luka, she does have a point. You rest up while we go find Ava." Pressing a gentle kiss to the younger man's forehead—making him turn a darker shade of red—Elora chuckled as they left the room.
"So… how exactly are you going to do this?" Nero inquired lightly, following her to the room in question.
"I'm going to take the thoughts out of his mind. Quick, painless and efficient." She answered calmly, nodding to the two guards and punching in the code. As soon as the two men left, her eyes turned red and her teeth flashed in a vicious smile. "And then I'm going to make him bleed."
The man in question sat in a metal chair, his hands bound to the legs and a table in front of him. He looked up defiantly at her approach, spitting in disgust. Elora looked down at the fluid that had landed at her feet, face blank as she turned her attention towards him. She slung the blaster over her back, placing her hands on either side of the table and leaning into it.
"I'm going to be brief with you. I don't take kindly to people coming at my crew, and I really don't like when you draw blood. Now, you are going to tell me who you work for, and where my engineer is. I'm just giving you the option of doing it willingly or not." Voice flat and emotionless, her blue eyes were locked on the man's dull hazel ones.
"Fuck you bitch, I'm not telling you anything." He snarled, spitting at her again. This time it hit her in the face, and Nero felt a white hot flash of anger. Stepping forward, he hit the man across the face, satisfied at the broken skin. Elora calmly cleaned her face off, straightening and coming around the table with a winning smile on her face.
"That's admirable of you, really it is. You don't want to betray your people, I understand. But here's the thing," She shrugged, eyes flashing red, "you don't really have a choice."
"What the hell?! Get away!" Thrashing and struggling, the mercenary went stock still when she placed both hands on either side of her face. Her method of extracting information was not necessary, she could have done it without contact, but the added pressure had frightened the idiot which was no doubt her intention. She pulled back a moment later, a satisfied expression on her face as the man panted heavily.
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Turning her attention to Nero, he felt her conscious probing his gently and he opened up his mind slightly. Information passed between them, Elora transferring the memories she had just taken to him. During this exchange they were silent, and the woman had slowly pulled off one of her gloves.
"But, unfortunately for you, my navigator is currently stuck in bed because of an injury sustained by you. Of course you realize that reparations must be made." Hand closed into a fist, she drove it straight into his stomach, before punching him hard across the face. There was a sickening crunch, blood spurting out of his broken nose and causing him to wail in pain. Wiping her hand, she pulled the glove back on and made for the door. Once outside, the calm façade faded to a very troubled expression.
"So, you obviously know this mercenary group." Falling into step beside her, the woman's mind was closed off once more.
"You remember when we were up at the orphanage? The Red Stones were trying to shake Leah down for protection money, and I scared them off. It seems they held a grudge." She answered, making her way out of the club. Jae was waiting outside, pacing nervously as he kept checking his weapons. When he spotted them he was by their side in an instant, falling into step as they made their way down the street.
"Those idiots." He growled a moment later, no doubt sharing thoughts with Elora.
"My thoughts exactly. Jae, I want to play a game. Do you think we should invite our mercenary friends to join?" She grinned innocently, making the other man laugh.
"You know I always like your games Captain." As Nero followed behind, he was disturbed by the jealousy he felt observing their closeness. He stomped the sensation out, frowning in distaste as they went down a derelict alley, searching for the mercenaries' base.
Translations:
Na Cúplála—The Coupling, a proper noun and akin to a holy day.
(A/N: So, we will now be getting into a bit of a conflict here, le gasp! Also Nero is starting to get feels, and how will he react to that? Only time will tell! Bum bum buuuuuum!)