Slowly, his eyes opened, and instantly it took all his willpower to prevent them from slamming shut again.
He groaned and clenched his fingers through the silver sheets; then everything became black. Despite this, Attelus still didn't know he'd fallen asleep until his eyes opened again. He had no clue how long he'd been slept for. His eyes hurt, his throat felt like he swallowed magma. Attelus was meant to be an inhuman immortal who can dodge bullets, but he was still too damned human. He laid on his side watching the darkened wraithbone wall a few metres away, and thinking for the hundredth time how strange it was that his bone structure was made from the same alien material.
Attelus cursed Faleaseen's name, but it croaked from his mouth so quietly even his enhanced hearing struggled to find the syllables. But, perhaps...Perhaps he was lucky in a way? In that, he still had his humanity to an extent? He thought of Kalakor how the...Space Marine seemed almost embittered by losing his. Perhaps it was better this way? That if Attelus lived for hundreds if not thousands of years it would allow him to remain empathetic to rest of mankind? Attelus was finding more and more that we are defined by our limitations as much as our strengths.
And in rare times, a limitation can be a strength or even an advantage in some regards. Countless times an enemy had underestimated Attelus because of his height and build, and countless times they'd paid the price for that.
He sighed and reached with a scrambling hand for the wrist chronometer on the bed-side table. It was 3 am sidereal, not that mattered much in the webway, but that meant he'd only been asleep for four hours and he knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, not for hours more, anyway. Clenching his teeth, Attelus forced his form to sit upright, as he did the silver sheets slid off his torso, revealing his washboard abs and strong chest. They didn't need a duvet the Eldar had a control of the environment inside the ship far beyond anything an Imperial vessel could manage.
"They"? The word made him look down at the supine form laying in the bed beside him. The sheets coated her smooth, beautiful body in a way which just accentuated her curves and nuances rather than detracts from them. Her back was to him, as she slept on her side, which made him wish to see her hypnotising face as he'd always been a face guy. But the alabaster nape of her neck and the shape of her shoulders the sheet kept naked almost made up for it and she could stay that way almost indefinitely due to the extensive and expensive rejuvenant she could access. He fought the sudden urge to wake her up, not just for the sex again, but because of the puerile spite and envy which boiled in his chest. That she could still sleep so soundly after everything she'd done, was beyond him. Was it because she was stronger than him? Because of the crutch of her damned "faith" in the God-Emperor? Or was she just a psychopath incapable of feeling guilt like his father? Was it because she was a psyker? And a powerful one at that. But Inquisitor Enandra had taught him, due to their connection to the warp, psykers were prone to having the worst of the worst of nightmares. Or perhaps it was because of some sort of training?
Or perhaps...Perhaps she'd fallen so far into the depths of insanity and emerged as someone or something else?
He didn't know, and he would likely never know.
Any man, himself included only a few years ago, wouldn't have wanted anything more in the universe to have a woman like Estella Erith in their bed with beside them, but Attelus just felt numb about it.
No, she was no longer Estella Erith, the beautiful, kind, if a prideful, woman he'd fallen in love with as a teenager in the ruins of his home-world so long ago. But now she was Karmen Kons, the ruthless pragmatist who pushed the philosophy too far even for him. Perhaps that was the reason why. That, and that he wished...He wished it was another woman.
'Adelana,' he hissed.
The name seemed to make Karmen stir and murmur making Attelus flinch in fright. Perhaps it did, due to her psychic ability. Either that or she was pretending to be sleeping; he wouldn't put it past her.
Perhaps that was the real reason he felt so empty; he couldn't trust her. He could never trust her.
With another sigh, Attelus snatched up his pack of Lhos and lunged out of bed, almost forgetting that he was naked. He really needed a frigging smoke.
Only wearing his underwear and his beaten, torn worn black flak jacket around him Attelus leaned against the wall beside the door to Karmen's quarters and with a shaking hand reached to retrieve his Lho stick between his forefinger and thumb. The fifth he'd smoked in ten minutes.
He rubbed his eyes and thought over his dream again, trying to clutch it, keep it from fading from his memory. A dream like that should've helped him, but he didn't feel any better than before. So it couldn't be true, Garrakson? Thought him of him as a son? Utter Grox shit. He supposed Garrakson had been...a bit like a father to him now he thought about it. He remembered when just after he'd woken up the second time from his coma back on Omnartus how...Elandria had cruelly ripped into him for attempting to sacrifice himself to save the cavorters in the Twilight Bar from the rampaging Arco-Flagellant. Garrakson had lost it; he'd roared at her and sent her out of his room. Attelus had never seen the laid-back Garrakson like that before, but it couldn't be true.
Elandria, what she did to him was horrible, Attelus needed to know if he had saved those innocent people, she'd been there. Castella had said he did, but his paranoia had overwhelmed him, but Elandria had refused to tell him. Now, with hindsight, he understood she'd done it because she was upset that he'd almost gotten himself killed and was too brainwashed, too damaged to convey that hurt in a more healthy way.
Later, when she was dying in his arms, she'd told him he did manage to save them, which destroyed any doubt he didn't, forever.
His train of thought was sent off course as the quiet sound of footfalls filled his ears; he calculated they were about fifteen metres away and approaching fast. Attelus recognised them, and it sent a painful shiver of anxiety through him, which made him wish to retreat inside Karmen's quarters. Still, he fought it and did his best to pretend to ignore Adelana as she emerged from the shadows.
'I...See you are back smoking Lho again.'
Attelus turned to her. She stood a few metres away, her full lips pursed ever so slightly. Her deep blue eyes infested with red, but he knew it wasn't because he was smoking again. Her pale, high cheekbones: littered with freckles and her natural red with blonde streaks hair pulled into a ponytail. She wore the elaborate crimson and gold robes that matched her hair an Eldar made her when they'd travelled to Sarkeath. Robes almost as gorgeous as her.
'I am,' he said. 'But, well, in all honesty, can you blame me?'
Her eyes fell to the floor. 'N-no, I suppose not. S-so it's...true then...You and Karmen...are...'
'I...yes,' said Attelus, struggling to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. 'But it's nothing. It's just nothing.'
Her eyes widened, and her arms folded across her chest as her jaw tightened. 'Really, Attelus? Really? You really think she thinks it's "nothing"? Everyone knows she's-'
'It's nothing, Adelana. We talked it over, she understands.'
Attelus clenched his teeth, wanting to tell her that this was her fault for abandoning him and their mission. That they should've been together. They shouldn't be like this. Not like this.
'I don't think she does, I think-'
'Please, Adelana. Not now.'
Adelana's hands fell to her sides. 'Okay, fine. But don't come crying to me when you break her heart.'
'What? Like you did to me?' Attelus blurted out.
Her bravado disappeared, and her gaze lowered again. 'I...well...I...thought...'
'Thought I understood, did you? Believe me, I do. I really frigging do. Now leave me the hell alone.'
Tear swirled in Adelana's eyes, and she turned away, sending a chill of guilt shivering through Attelus.
'Adelana!' he called to her back, making her stop. 'I...I'm sorry. I...do understand. I do. You can't do this any more, and well, that's more than fair enough. After that...hell.'
She turned back to him, the tears now falling down her face. 'No, I am sorry, Attelus. I wish I can keep going with you but I just can't any more. I can't. I'm sorry.'
Attelus shrugged, forcing a fake smile to cross his face, a smile he knew she'd see straight through. But even still she returned her own, and it was adorable. 'Have you decided what you'll do?' he said. 'I mean, when we get back to the Calixis sector, Adelana? Back to The Audacious Edge?'
'Nope, not yet.'
'Adelana y...You could stay on the Audacious Edge, you know. Work in the Librarium with...with uhh. Uhh.'
'For frig's sake, Attelus. Her name's Seleen Gorret. You should remember her name by now.'
'I know, I know, I'm sorry,' said Attelus, raising a placating hand. Seleen was another survivor of the Omnartus Incident. A civilian in the truest definition of the word and while she wasn't exactly the most attractive on the outside, inside, she was truly a good person. She'd been there the most fo Adelana after Omnartus death; they were the truest of friends, it helped they'd worked together in Taryst's tower in the mailroom. Not just that, it turned out that Seleen was from Attelus' home-world and country Velrosia, although, she hailed from the south.
Adelana wiped the tears from her eyes, then from his, looking at the wall. 'I-I've been thinking about it. It's an option; I really don't have anywhere else to go...'
Attelus frowned and his gaze fell, unable to find a reply to that.
'But we both know that you only suggest that so you can keep in touch with me,' she said.
He looked back up at her, and much to his shock found she was smiling at him, and he couldn't help share a slow one back then she nodded slightly, turned and skipped away.
Attelus' watched her for a while before managing to tear his attention away. Was there still a possibility? He shook his head. It seemed too good to be true; it had to be. His psychopath of a father had taught him many things but the phrase "if it seems too good to be true, then it usually was," was one he still believed in whole heartily. If he and Adelana got together, he'd be one of the happiest men in the whole galaxy. Perhaps...Perhaps, because of all he'd done, all the killing, this was the universe's way of punishing him? Perhaps he didn't deserve happiness?
He sighed out smoke. If that was the case, frig it, that would be the price he'd have to pay. Attelus had said that to Adelana back on Sarkeath, that he would carry this weight so someone else less deserving wouldn't have to. And frig the Chaos gods, frig Etuarq, frig the Imperium and even frig the Emperor he was doing it for himself and humanity and he wouldn't give up again.
Never again.
