Jalien looked around her and grinned wickedly. Well, being out of favor with the Clan-Father did enable her to leave their quarters unnoticed with little effort. And unnoticed meant no escorts, meant she could wander the serren, the off-worlders' section of the city to her heart's content.
She moved with the flow of the crowd and forgot to look for other asheeya in her wonder. Not that any other native who happened to be breaking tradition and wandering the same walkways would want to notice her. She was wearing her minor clan colors, not the major she was entitled to. At least, that was her hope. It wasn't like she had any serren clothing to wear and the clan colors were woven into every piece of clothing any asheeya wore – it was part and particle of the clan identity.
A shove from behind recalled her eyes to the ground. She'd have to be more careful. Anonymity also meant that begin the only daughter of the Clan-Father of the Gaulend wouldn't help her. Neither would her current status as supplicant to the Daughter of the First House.
Argh, she groaned mentally. Even during this stolen time, her father and his machinations intruded on her. Old Malina had finally died, leaving her title and chair on the Circle open. Father wanted that spot. Which meant Jalien had to want that spot. And gremlins will fly first. That probably had not been the wisest way to express her - trepidation. After another of their infamous "discussions," Father had stormed off, leaving orders that his recalcitrant daughter could fend by herself for the next several days. Again.
She would never be any good or of any use on the Circle. Politics never impressed her. And she only caught half of the intrigues that every other member of her family seemed to understand intuitively. The thought of sitting on the Circle for the rest of her live scared her to death. But, Father wanted to added power, even if his daughter wasn't behaving like a good girl, and it looked like he was going to get want he wanted.
Suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks, and all thoughts of Father, Clan and the Daughter flew from her mind. There, in front of her, a ship slowly levitated above its docking bay, then with a switch in repulsors, took off for the stars. Jalien stood, transfixed.
An actual starship leaving for the stars.
Unconsciously, her hand rose to the departing vessels, in reverence or supplication, not even she knew. With a start she dropped her arm and moved forward again. Fortunately, nobody'd taken any real notice of her lapse. But, gods! To leave Dagentia, to leave being asheeya, and her Father… to dance among the stars…
Then she took a determine breath. Well, it may only be a dream, but that didn't mean she couldn't look at the lords-loved spaceships. With a sparkle in her eye, she took the first walkway and moved towards the docking bays.
She shuddered as the serren's – the alien's – hand moved across a breast. "You know chickie, under those shapeless robes, you just might be worth something."
"Let me go!" she hissed and tried to struggle out of his grip.
The alien laughed and increased his chokehold until black spots danced in front of her eyes. "You want to see the ship so much, we'll show it to you."
One of the other two joined in the laughter. "Yeah. You'll have a great view of the ceiling." This one had a red ridge that ran from his nose to the back of his neck. The look in his eyes as he reached for her finally scared Jalien.
The first serren jerked her back, out of reach and only temporarily cutting off her air again. "You'll wait your turn X'cain. Captain's choice."
Jalien closed her eyes, and wondered how in the lowest hells she'd gotten herself into this one. She began composing a properly devote prayer to Maula, the goddess of fools, and let the aliens argue over her. A deep sense of shame began to work its way into her heart. Along with anger.
"Now, now." A voice cut through the argument, stopping the one who held her in mid-blow with another. "Is that any way to treat one of your hosts gentlemen?"
"Ain't no biz of your pup," the Captain growled. "Leave before we do the same to you."
"Well," a young man only a year or two older than Jalien stepped from behind a crate. He casually tossed something in his left hand. ""Don't' think I should do that."
"What are you going to do about it?" Red Skin sneered.
"Oh, this." He tossed the object. With surprised curses, the three tried to dodge away and the big one dropped Jalien in the process. She started to crawl when the explosion hurled her a few feet. Groaning, she tried to pick herself up and get away, only her body didn't respond. She squeaked when a pair of hands set her on her unsteady feet. She reached instinctually to steady herself and stood staring at the man who threw the grenade.
"You almost killed me!"
"Would you prefer I hand you back over to them?" he asked and they both looked at the three aliens who were just gaining their leverage and blaster pistols.
"No." Human had to be better than those freaks.
"Good. Come on." He grabbed her hand and ran into the maze of crates.
"In here." The stranger guided her into a serren tavern and into a chair. Hardly breaking stride, he moved to the bar. Jalien craned her head to follow him, then noticed the other aliens looking at her. She smiled nervously, eyes darting to the door and back to the bar.
He was gone!
"Miss me?" A blue drink landed on the table in front of her.
Repressing another squeak, she glared suspiciously at the drink instead. "How could I? I don't even know who you are."
He settled into the opposite chair and grinned at her. "Duncan Too'lite. Freetrader."
"Jalien Bren ki Gaunl-la." She smiled as he blinked. "Call me Jalien."
"Thanks. Do you have to say that every time?"
She smiled in return. "And that's not even my full, formal name."
Duncan threw up a hand. "I don't want to know."
"Smart move. It's of no use to anyone anyhow except the politicians and the grandmothers." Her smiled drained away. "I thank you, Duncan Too'lite, for saving my life."
He looked at her over the edge of his glass, then slowly lowered it. "Thanks accepted," he said, matching her calm. "Gonna try your drink?"
Jalien looked back down at the blue fizz in front of her. Father would kill her… But then, he'd kill her simply for being in the serren sector to begin with. If she was going to be damned, might as well go all the way. Tentatively, she picked up the drink and sipped.
"I like it," she said with a touch of wonder.
Duncan nodded. "A bit fruity, but a good first-timer's drink."
"And you just know I'm a first timer?"
"Hell yes. Look at where I found you - "
"It could have happened to anyone!"
"Plus, you're about the only fifth native I've seen actually in the space port proper. So, you've got to be a first timer." He frowned. "But, you're the first to deign to talk to me. What it is with you people?"
"Oh, we're better than the Emperor. And don't look at me like that, I'm not kidding. Every asheeya considers him or herself above any off our planet. We are the center of our universe."
Duncan blinked at the knowledge and took another drink. "So, we're somewhat on the level of what – say a pet?"
"Actually, a little lower," she said sheepishly. "Pets have value."
He whistled. "Wow. Why?"
Jalien frowned and set down her own drink. "I… don't know, really. It's the way we are, the way the world is."
"Do you believe that?"
"I'm here aren't I?"
"But do you believe?"
She huffed. "Some yes. Some no. Based only on what I've seen so far, of course."
Duncan considered that answer. "Good enough, for now. So, why are you here?"
"You're just full of questions, aren't you?"
He smiled. "It's the only way to learn anything."
"Because I like to live on the edge, what little of it I can find?" She answered, amazed that the words came out of her mouth. "Because your ships fascinate me? Mostly, because I've always done exactly what my father didn't want me to do. " She reached for the drink again. "What are you doing here? Aside from conveniently saving me?"
He rolled his eyes. "Mechanical glitch. Nothing major, nothing I can't handle. But, it's going to take a few days to fix. Until then, I'm stuck."
Jalien stared at him. "Look, we barely know each other. But, you did try to blow up three other people for me. Would you take me to see your ship?"
He cocked an eyebrow at her thinly veiled eagerness, then shrugged.
"Why not?"
"So, wanna tell me again why it's a bad thing you were voted Daughter of the First House today? Sounds like you get more power and power is always good." Duncan turned the panel he was working on and rummaged through a toolbox.
"But, it's not my power. It's my father's. I'm just a damn pawn for him – again. Any actual power the Daughter may have was maneuvered away decades ago."
"Well, then," Duncan came up with some device and turned to her. "Why don't you come with me?"
Jalien stopped her pacing and stared at him. "Are you serious?"
"Maybe. Would you come?"
She turned and collapsed on the ship's ramp. To leave Dagentia… To leave Dagentia with Duncan…
They'd seen much of each other in the past week. Her disfavor with Father continued unabated. He only wanted to see her when addressing the Circle. Any other time he wanted her as far away as possible. Duncan's glitch seemed to change every time he went looking for it. So, every time she ran away, she naturally gravitated to the freetrader and his ship, the Star Shadow.
And, for the first time since she was a child, Jalien found herself actually talking to another human being. Not fighting with, or talking to or at, or muttering nothings – but actually sharing. For the first time in her seventeen years, she'd found another person who accepted her. Everyone else in her life tried to change her, mold her into a proper daughter and asheeya. Duncan merely laughed and told her another tale of running Imperial customs.
Once he even told her about Napul, the old man who brought him into space and showed him the beginnings of the pilot's trade. Jalien found herself desperately wishing she had someone to remember the way Duncan did Napul.
But all she had was the memory of the first time Chrent Bren ki Guanl-la, Clan-Father of the Gaulden, tried to beat the strangeness out of his only daughter.
"Well?" Duncan was to her side and behind her, out of her line of sight. And Jalien was glad – she didn't want him to see her pain and desperation, even if she had told him about it. Telling was better, somehow, than actually letting him see it in her eyes.
Leave Dagentia. Leave the Circle and its machinations, her father and his burning anger, leave the ridgedness of asheeya. By all that's holy, I wish I could, she thought.
"And why can't you?" Apparently she hadn't only though it. Duncan came around and crouched in front of her. "There's a whole wide galaxy out there. We could turn it on its ear together."
Jalien laughed and rubbed her eyes. "That we probably could. But, you'll have to raise hell for both of us. I can't leave Dagentia."
"Why, Jale? Even I know from what you've told me in the last week, that you have no ties here. No husband. A family that doesn't understand you, and will probably – forgive the brutality – be glad you're gone. No other obligations or connections you should have to honor because they're yours, not someone else's. Why not leave?"
"Because I can't. They won't let me."
"You're telling me that they will physically detain you if you simply left?"
"Yes. Unless you have some hidey-hole to fold me into. Remember that full inspection you underwent when you landed. There's another, just as complete, when you leave." She lay back along the ramp and stared at the stars. To actually dance among them…
"Someday you'll get your chance, Jalien Bren ki Guanl-la. I know you will."
"And how can you know that? We've only known each other a week."
"But, we've become friends. I know you'll never give in, not fully. And one day, you will be among those starts. It's fate."
"Thanks, I think." She moved her head so she could look down her body at him. "Are we truly friends?"
He nodded, then held out a hand. "Come on friend. Let's have a last drink. Tomorrow, I leave and your father traps you. We can at least have hangovers."
Jalien frowned and took his hand. "What's a hangover?"
Duncan laughed. "Trust me, you'll know."
Silently, they walked through the serren section of the city, to the bar where they're had their first drink together. Duncan loved introducing her to something new every night. A flash of plaid caught her eyes, and she moved to quickly put a pillar between her and the other asheeya. Duncan noticed and paused in front of a trinket shop. She'd done this on other nights as well.
She shook her head as the other asheeya disappeared into the building across the street. At least her vices only included fruity drinks and ships. Duncan had told her some of what went on in places like that, and she hadn't believed him until she read the sign for herself.
Together, they entered the bar. Jalien claimed a table, with Duncan got the drinks. He returned this time with something called a Tatooine Zombie, and finished his story of an Imperial customs agent and the female smuggler who'd seduced him right out of his skivvies. After Jalien finished giggling, they sat in companionable silence.
"Here." Duncan slid a bundle across the table to her.
"What this?" She put down the Zombie.
"Something I want to leave behind." Duncan's gray eyes were completely serious.
Curious, Jalien pulled away the wrappings, only to stare in wonder at the dagger they revealed. "Duncan, what's this?"
"It's a crythais dagger. We give them to those we would accept into our honor families. Would you be a part of my honor family, Jalien Bren ki Guanl-la?"
She caressed the eight-pointed star set into an otherwise smooth hilt. "You want me?" she asked.
"Aye." Duncan cupped her chin and raised her head. "I haven't told you much of my past, Jale, and you have only told me some of yours. Under normal circumstances, I would wait until we had a deeper understanding of each other. But, we don't have that time. I want you to know that there is someone in this galaxy who cares about you – who is your friend." And could have been more, maybe, given that time. The unspoken thought thrummed between them.
"Aye. I would be a part of your honor family, Duncan Too'lite."
"My thanks for the honor. Now, wanna know exactly what you've joined?"
Jalien smiled and ran a thumb over the edge. It was sharp. ""Well, does this mean your enemies will come hunting me down?"
"Um, maybe?"
"Did this to enliven my life, didn't you?"
"Um, maybe."
The bar murmur around them changed, and she saw Duncan tense. "Company."
She read it in his eyes. "Asheeyan guards?" She didn't wait for the answer. "Don't get involved Duncan." She slid the dagger into her belt. "Promise me."
"What? Jalien – "
She caught his hand. "Don't get involved," she said fiercely.
Slowly he nodded. Jalien squeezed his hand one final time and pushed away form the table. Steeling her spine, she turned to face whoever'd entered. Inwardly, she groaned. Outwardly, she cocked an eyebrow. "Slumming Ebren?"
Five asheeya stared at her in shock. The leader, her cousin, quickly moved from shock to rage. In two steps he covered the distance between them and wrapped a hand around her arm.
"By the gods," he breathed, as he dragged her out of the bar, "how can you shame our clan this way?"
"Well, I've been doing it for years. Why stop now?" She dug in her heels and tried to wretch out of his grasp. And failed. But, at least she tried.
"You could have some grace, and return with dignity. Or do you want me to sling you over my shoulder like the whore you are?"
"You should know all about whores Ebren. After all, you did install one in your mother's household," Jalien said with venom.
Ebren stared at her, then with a cry of rage, backhanded her hard enough to throw her to the ground.
Jalien crashed to the stones, head ringing. She raised a hand to her throbbing cheek and blinked away the tears to stare defiently back up at him.
Only Ebren wasn't there.
And a fight was going on. With Duncan in the middle.
"Oh, Duncan, no." she moaned and before she could move, one of the guards clubbed him in the back of the head. At her screams another moved to restrain her while Ebren danced on Duncan's ribs.
Hours later, Jalien knelt on her hands and knees again, gasping with pain – again. She cursed her father's retreating back, and then herself as tears rolled down her cheeks. She wasn't this weak, couldn't be this weak, even if a man twice her weight had beaten her black and blue. She had more damn pride than that.
She pushed up and clenched her teeth as another whimper forced its way out of her throat. With renewed curses, she stumbled to the fire and grabbed the tongs. Carefully, she pushed hot coals aside, fished out Duncan's dagger and reverently laid it on the stone hearth. Jalien leaned over and heard her tears sizzled as they struck the hot metal.
Gods damn the man! It wasn't the first beating for her insolence, but it was by far the worst. And he'd promised more and worst for Duncan.
At the thought of Duncan and the glimpse she'd gotten of his bloody face, rage flooded through her again. Lords below - !
With effort, she calmed. Rage wouldn't help Duncan right now. She had to find a way out – preferable with Ebren's head on a stake right below her father's. Ebren, her blasted cousin, and Father's henchman. He deserved worse than –
Wait.
She frowned. Ebren's colors, in the bar.. they weren't the major colors. They weren't even their clan's minor colors. And, they were the same colors she'd seen more than once in the past week.
Jalien stared around the Circle Chamber, pushed the physical and mental pain down, and raised her chin.
"You show no respect Daughter." A voice intoned from the shadows.
"And you show none for me Father. You haven't for years. But, I propose a deal. I don't tell everyone about the clan that doesn't exist, you let Duncan Too'lite off planet, with no further recriminations to either of us."
Silence. "You are delusions. We have placed too much stress upon you," said another voice.
Jalien snorted. "Not so, Clan-Father. I'm not the only one who's seen the colors of a clan that doesn't exist, colors that only seem to exist in the serren sector, allowing the 'upstanding' sons of the highest clans to visit certain – benefits that exist only there. I've seen those places, Clan-Father. Even you would be taken aback."
"A useless threat. Only those who have also frequented those sectors would know if such a thing truly existed. Who will believe the word of a disgraced daughter?"
"Oh, but Ebren wasn't exactly discreet as he marched me back through our own sector. All they need is their memories jogged. Even I can see the political fall out from just a whisper in the right ears."
Silence reigned. Finally. "Dead women tell no tales."
"No, they don't." Jalien smiled, a small bitter smile. "It take it we have a deal, oh exalted Fathers?" She pulled the metal fillet, the mark of her womanhood three years ago, from her head and tossed it to one of the ruling shadows. Heavy raven hair, released from its confinement, cascaded down her back. "Order his release now. Or there is no deal."
One of the shadows moved forward, into the light. "You would actually do this child?"
"Aye, Clan-Father Galen." She saw the genuine pain in his face, and a small part of her rage softened. "I am sorry, god-father. You have ever been kind to me. But we all in this room know you for the hypocrites you are. And we all know that the asheeya way of life has ill fit me. Don't make me prove I'm willing to destroy it."
A guard entered the ruling chamber, spoke with Galen for a second, then left. The other Clan-Fathers remained silent.
Galen turned back to her. "it is done, upon my private word."
Jalien nodded, then jerked Duncan's dagger from her belt. The fire had merely tarnished the steel.
"Then, at this moment, I declare myself c'tranthu, a member of the walking dead. I release the Clan from my responsibility, the Family from my name and the Sect from my bearing." Setting her teeth against the pain, she gathered her hair at the nape of her neck and sawed through it with the dagger. She held the shorn length in front of her, then dropped it to the floor, the beads woven within clicking faintly.
"I am asheeya no longer."
She turned to leave. One man's voice halted her. "A dead woman wears no colors."
She turned to her Clan-Father one last time. "Forgive me for forgetting Father." Stiffly, her fingers moved over the fastenings, and her clothing, with the clan badge woven into the very fabric, pooled at her feet. Air played across exposed skill and only hours old bruises showed up livid. She swept them with on last cold glare and had the benefit of seeing Galen, the most senior of them all, blanch in horror. Then she left.
Naked, as befitting death and rebirth.
Minutes later, under a purloined guard cloak, she walked up to the Star Shadow. Duncan stood, rather leaned, at the head of the ramp. Jalien blinked back tears at the sight of his battered face and paused at the foot of the ramp.
"Is the offer sill open?"
Duncan stared down at her for a long moment, and under the cloak Jalien gripped the dagger hard. Gods, I wouldn't blame him –
"Now, that's a stupid question." He held out a hand. "Coming?"
Jalien smiled and a tear slid down her cheek. "Aye."
Quickly, ignoring her ribs, she moved up the ramp and took his hand.
"Come on. They're in a big hurry to have the Shadow off the ground. You want some clothes first?"
She shook her head. "No. Let's get off this mudball."
Duncan led her to the cockpit, and strapped her into the co-pilot's chair. She stared at him, then out the window and the enormity of what she'd done struck her. She'd just thrown away everything she'd ever know, all for one serren. And, be honest, she chided herself, for yourself as well. What had she traded? Centuries old security and social imprisonment for the opportunity to dance among the stars - free.
Free.
There was hardly a jerk as the ship's repulsor's kicked in, but she felt it anyway. Startled, she glanced at Duncan, who crocked the unswollen corner of his mouth. "We're off Jalien Bren ki Guanl-la."
"C'tra," she said suddenly. "Jalien Bren ki Guanl-la is dead. My name is Jalien C'tra."
Duncan caressed her cheek and nodded. "C'tra." Then he turned back to the business of flying a ship into space.
Space and stars. And even with her fear and pain, a portion of Jalien's heart soared free.
Dancing among the stars…
Okay, not a whole lot of action, but every character has to have a beginning. This is Jalien's, rather unassuming one. Please let me know what you think of my little family. They've been with me for many years and are just now getting out in the world.
Any and all reviews are very welcome. Thanks!