I awake to the sensation of someone touching my arm. Jolted from my dreams, I react with a mixture of instinct and military training. In microts, I am standing over my "assailant," pinning her arms behind her back and bending her over the bunk.
As soon as Soraya catches her breath, she cries out.
Her yelp brings me back to my senses, and I release her. "Talyn, lights, half intensity. What the flying frell were you thinking, girl?"
"I couldn't sleep." She moves her arms in slow circles as if testing them for injury.
I wonder when she borrowed that shirt from me. I should rebuke her for rifling through my things, but instead I watch the hem rise up her thighs as she raises her arms. The fabric drapes nicely across her chest, and though thin and somewhat atrophied, she isn't as young as I first guessed. Her long nose and slightly recessed chin make her face unremarkable, but the trust I see in her eyes makes up for all her other flaws. That kind of adoration is a grace I do not deserve, and if she stays much longer, she will find that out.
"Go play a game with Talyn," I tell her. "I've taught him several. Strategy or chance, take your pick. Use the console in the center. Talyn, allow Soraya on the command deck." For emphasis, I lay back down and cover my eyes with one forearm.
"No. I want to sleep here."
The bunk gives slightly as she perches on the edge. I snap up to a sitting position, take her by the shoulders, and try to push her away. Her hips slide off the bunk, but she leans on my hands, covering them with her own. If I jerk them away, she'll fall onto me. All I can do is hold her at arm's length.
I squeeze her shoulders hard enough to make her wince. "I am ordering you to leave now, and stay away from my quarters. Not asking, not negotiating, ordering."
She meets my eyes. "I'm staying."
I make no effort to keep my voice even, and my words come out in a growl. "I told you that you had nothing to fear from me as long as you obeyed my orders. You are not keeping your end of that bargain."
"I'm not afraid of you, Bailar." She puts one knee, then the other, on my bunk.
I let go of her shoulders and stand. "I am enough of a Peacekeeper to take what I want."
I expect her to argue, to tell me how she trusts me not to harm her.
She says nothing like what I expect, however. Instead, she brings her lips to my ear and whispers, "I'm enough like a Peacekeeper to take what I need."
When I awaken-- how many arns has it been?-- I reach for her. I had resigned myself to the prospect of endless cycles with virtually no Sebaccean contact, had convinced myself that I didn't need the feel of another's heartbeat to remind me I'm alive. However, after being with her, I find that isolation is too much to bear. I am alienated, and it is as if a part of me has been severed.
"Soraya?" I whisper her name, even as I fumble blindly for her body. No warm flesh greets my touch, and no one answers my voice. "Talyn, lights!"
Darkness persists.
"Talyn?"
The darkness is not only in front of my eyes, but inside my head. I have no sense of Talyn's awareness. I realize that Talyn's absence, not Soraya's, is the cause of my distress. I reach toward the back of my neck, my stomach knotting in anticipation of what I will find.
The transponder is gone. Talyn is gone, along with that thieving bitch. Until I've found her, I won't know how far I've come from my Peacekeeper days. I have vowed to commit no more acts of violence, unless defending Talyn. I have promised I will never again act upon the need for vengeance. I can take what I want, and that is something that will never change. At the moment, I believe I can kill what I don't. I could easily order Talyn to fire on that blasted Leviathan if I knew Soraya was inside. When I hold her life in my hands, I will know my true nature.
In the mean time, I must find out where the frell I am.
"Talyn? Talyn! It's me! You know my voice!"
I expected no response. Still, the silence is agony.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading, or at least clicking. Your page views continue to keep me motivated as I write this story.