Chapter 2

"Mr McClain?" the voice echoed eerily through Lance's fugue, and he struggled to unseal his eyelids. Had he cemented them shut last night? He'd tried that once. Once. On a dare, sue him. He was pretty sure he'd sworn he'd never do it again, but right now opening his eyes felt just as impossible as it had then.

"Mr. McClain?" the voice came again, this time accompanied by a hand on his shoulder, and Lance jerked awake, eyes fluttering miraculously open. Okay, so, not cemented shut. Just a byproduct of a severe lack of sleep. Lance glanced around at his surroundings, heart rate rising as he realized he didn't recognize a single thing. It took him another moment to remember he was on private interplanetary shuttle sent to pick him up from Planet Iera. Stars, he already missed the arid rock and he wasn't even off this ship yet.

"Mr. McClain?" The voice came again, and Lance looked up to see one of the two flight attendants his father had assigned to his flight staring down at him, the scales of her face gleaming in the cabin lights.

"Why the hell did you wake me?" Lance asked groggily, already mourning the sweet embrace of sleep.

Lance saw her scales tinge blue as she flushed. "You-you, uh, told me to, sir."

"Oh," Lance said, with a twinge of guilt as he blearily recalled doing just that. "Right. Sorry. Thanks."

Lance was slowly rehashing the events of the past few nights with a growing sense of dread. Nausea twisted his gut with all the force of a hangover he knew he didn't have. His com unit weighed heavily in his pocket at the thought of the latest message from his brother. He resisted the urge to pull it out and re-read it. Besides, he'd read it so many times, he had it memorized by now. Even after so much repetition, the words still had a chilling effect on him:

Come home. LIfe or death.

And then, just seconds later, another message:

Sorry, Lance.

Lance had wondered - hoped - his brother had taken a practical joke a little too far. Still, he'd responded with the flurry of calls, text messages, and vid drops a cryptic message like that called for. He'd give his brother hell afterward if it was just a joke, but if it wasn't…he didn't even want to think about it.

Sebastian's response had been dead silence. Resisting the urge to panic at this point, he'd wondered why he hadn't received any calls from his family if something was wrong with Sebastian. When he'd videoed his sister, Ariana, he'd pretended to be annoyed that Sebastian was ignoring his calls to hide his fear.

She'd laughed at him. "Lance, bro, you sound like mom. Chill. He said he's supervising a super important cargo transport to a remote stellar region via hyperway. You know how that fucks up communication."

Lance's blood froze. "C-cargo transport?" he echoed, trying to keep his tone annoyed rather than fearful, "Oh...Oh, yeah. My bad. He did say something about that. And by the way, watch you damn language, sis." He added the last out of habit.

The subsequent calls to his other siblings and and parents had been made equally unnerving by the casual way they talked with him. He'd managed to gather, without revealing just how ignorant he'd originally been, that the trip was supposed to last a few months due to the long distance and relatively nascent infrastructure of the planet being delivered to. He couldn't detect a hint of worry or deception in his family, and of all the people he knew, they were the easiest to read.

He spent hours wracked with impotent worry, struggling to figure out what to do. Sebestian had apparently only mentioned anything to him, and no one else. Why? Come home. The message had said. Life or death. The only reason Sebestian would keep a secret like that from his family was if it would put them at risk.

The call with his father had finally made Lance's decision for him. His father had asked him, since he'd just recently failed his third and most recent Fighter Grade pilot test, if he'd consider coming home.

"At least temporarily," his father had added, unusually willing to offer up concessions of his own volition. Lance wondered if maybe his father was finally coming to understand that the family business wasn't Lance's inevitable final destination after the pit stop that was his current effort to become a Space Law Enforcer.

"Mr. McClain," the nervous flight attendant prodded, and Lance was pulled back to the present with a jolt. "Do you need assistance with your bags?"

"Oh, no. Thank you."

Swallowing his unpleasant thoughts and unbuckling himself from his seat, Lance pulled up his hoodie and shades. He used to relish the extra attention, but not after the past few years, and not after his brother's recent message weighing him down. He forced himself to retrieve his luggage from the overhead compartment, letting out a quiet oof of surprise as its weight yanked his arms down. He hadn't had to load it himself at take-off, and was surprised how much the bare essentials managed to weigh.

Lance stumbled out of the cabin, doing his best to drag his luggage behind him while maintaining a sense of dignity. Pausing, he turned around and flashed the best smile he could offer at the flight attendant, who was standing at the door. She stiffened when they made eye contact, face flushing all over again, then waved awkwardly at Lance.

"Thanks for the ride," he said, waving back.

Lance was on the other side of security before he realized he hadn't even tried to flirt with the cute flight attendant. He must've been more out of it than he thought.

Lance groaned at the sight of a stranger holding a halo pad with his name displayed in the pick-up area of his terminal. Of course his father had sent someone to pick him up, despite numerous assurances by Lance that he'd be perfectly fine getting to his apartment by himself, thank you very much. At least it only said "Lance" and not his full name. Maybe he could feign ignorance and pass the unfortunate man by, but a second glance at the sign bearer gave Lance pause.

The guy was young with a lean build that spoke of careful attention to physical improvement and a god-awful mess of clearly-unshampooed hair that screamed just the opposite. Judging by the bags under the man's eyes, he'd probably gotten just as much sleep the night before as Lance had. Despite his clear exhaustion, he seemed remarkably alert. He stood with feet shoulder-width apart, tired eyes sharp and shoulders back, as if expecting trouble. Lance's heart sank. His father hadn't sent a chauffeur, he realized with a growing sense of horror, he'd sent a damn bodyguard. He should've expected it, but it galled nonetheless.

Lance was just averting his gaze to avoid catching the other's attention when the man's eyes flickered up and their gazes locked, a glimmer of recognition lighting the stranger's expression.

Lance's hopes of ignoring his father's wishes as summarily as his father had his own tanked. So much for his clever disguise. Sighing inwardly, Lance approached the man, lowering his sunglasses just enough to make unfettered eye contact with him. His new bodyguard raised unimpressed eyebrows.

"Mr. McClain," the stranger said, holding his hand out to shake, his expression smoothing out as he adopted a professional demeanor. The change didn't seem to suit him, his movements stiff and uncomfortable. "I'm Kevin Gokane. Your father sent me. I'll be ensuring your safety for the duration of your stay."

A familiar spike of irritation flared in his gut at the mention of his father. The words were a thinly veiled warning from his old man. Accept this condition or lose privileges. He was tempted to give his dad the proverbial middle finger and tell this Kevin guy to take a hike, but then he would never find out what that cryptic message from his brother was about. For now, he had to play nice. Lance took the man's hand, determined to out-unimpressed the guy. It was the principle of the matter. "Kevin, huh?" Lance pretended to size the man up behind his shades. "You can drop the formalities. Just Lance will do."

The man smiled stiffly. "With all do respect, sir, I think I'll stick with 'Mr. McClain.'"

Lance took his sunglasses off fully now, glaring at the man. He was preparing to push the issue when he spotted the exact last person he wanted to see in that moment. He quickly shoved his sunglasses back on and side-stepped so that Kevin stood between him and the source of his anxiety. Kevin seemed to notice his distress and tensed. He gave Lance a questioning look. "Okay, fine, Mr. Bodyguard Man," Lance bit out, "Time to ensure my safety and make sure she," he pointed behind Kevin, "doesn't see me on our way - no don't look!" Lance's voice rose in panic.

He glanced behind Kevin and felt the blood drain from his face. His shout and Kevin's motion had attracted her attention. His eyes met a familiar set of pupiless emerald eyes, set in a face so jaw-droppingly beautiful it could charm even the stars. And Lance. Oh, how he'd been charmed.

Nyma.

Kevin finally turned the rest of the way around to look in Nyma's direction. Nyma's face, which had been frozen since contact, suddenly brightened. She was positively beaming now as she sauntered towards them.

"Shit! She's coming this way," Lance hissed and gripped Kevin's arm, "Quick! Do something before she gets to me!"

Kevin watched the approaching Nyma dubiously, "I don't think she's an immediate threat to your well-being."

"She is. A very big threat. To my emotional well-being." Lance assured him. Kevin continued to look unimpressed. In fact, he looked dangerously close to eye rolling.

"Lance!" Nyma said when she at last approached them. Predictably, his father's new employee was completely useless. "It's been ages."

"Nyma," Lance said, considerably less brightly.

"What are you doing back in town?" she asked, intelligent eyes gauging his reaction, and Lance was glad for his sunglasses. He wondered how he'd never noticed the guile

that was so obvious to him now.

"Why do I get the feeling you already have some idea?" Lance asked.

"I might," she said, and there was an awkward pause. Lance hated that she probably did at that. Or at least, the failed test. By all appearances, he was crawling back home to his dad in defeat.

"How crazy is this, huh? What are the chances that you'd be here? In this exact terminal? Right when I came back to town?" Beside him, Kevin stiffened.

"Oh you know," she said vaguely, waving a hand, "Lot's of important people come through here. Gotta be on the lookout."

"How...predatory of you," Lance replied, the words slipping out in a spike of anger, "I guess some things never change." Nyma's face retained its smile, even as it grew icy. Lance knew he'd struck a nerve. He felt a twinge of guilt, but quickly shook it off. Why should he feel guilty?

"A girl's gotta eat," she said, "We can't all be born with servants feeding us out of silver spoons."

Lance sputtered. Everything always came back to that, didn't it? For some reason, he couldn't manage any response to her. Must've been the shuttle lag. Nyma's smile widened and she turned her attention to Kevin.

"And who's this?" she asked.

"None of your business," Lance cut in before Kevin could respond. He wasn't sure the new guy would be stupid enough to talk, but he wasn't about to risk it. He turned to Kevin. "She's spreads gossip for a living. You can't trust a word she says."

Nyma stayed cool as ever, but her voice grew hard. "I'm a reporter," she said.

Lance scoffed. "Yeah, right," he pulled off his sunglasses so he could look her in the eye, "Last time I checked, most 'reporters' don't sleep with their subjects."

Nyma smiled, her voice taking on a skeptical edge, "Says the man who sleeps with anything that walks."

There was so much wrong packed into such a small statement, Lance didn't know where to begin. "That would explain you and me, then. You met my only requirement to bang."

"Mr McClain," Kevin's voice broke through Lance's fuming and the bodyguard gripped his elbow lightly. Lance was suddenly aware of wide-eyed onlookers pausing in their tracks pointing and murmuring to each other. He hadn't even realized he'd started raising his voice. Lance slammed his glasses back onto his face, even though he knew they were somewhat useless now. He couldn't even bring himself to look back at Nyma. Luckily, Kevin was already directing him away from her, "We should be going, now."

"Right," Lance said, adopting false bravado as he was led away, "Lots of work to do. Like, real work that doesn't involve invading other people's privacy." Lance couldn't help but adding. Like hell he'd let someone else have the last word. Especially if that someone was Nyma.

When they finally made it out of the spaceport and to the planetside transport pick-up location, Lance was in an increasingly irritable mood, but he managed to retain his usual smug expression. They were accosted by no less than a dozen more reporters on the way, Kevin doing a much better job of fending off these ones than Nyma.

Still, after the fifth time he was asked about whether or not his return was an indication of his intent to settle down and join his father's company, Lance wanted to shoot something. Or maybe spend a night partying. Both were equally viable options for lightening his mood, but he had serious doubts he'd be able to manage them tonight.

As soon as they stepped outside, Lance stopped in his tracks.

He'd forgotten how beautiful it all was. The spaceport was built to scrape the sky for easy access from space, towering over even the tallest of other structures in the city. This vantage point lended itself to one of the most incredible views of the city. Everything sprawled out below them like a miniature 3-D model, hover vehicles zipping along the mulit-level hover strips, buildings gleaming in the sunlight, lights brightening in the dimming rays of twilight. They were so high up, Lance couldn't make out anything below the cloudline, let alone any people, but evidence of their design was there in the clean-edged marvels within his view.

Lance felt an ache he hadn't been aware of before ease in his chest. Despite everything, and no matter what happened, it did feel good to be home.

Lance pressed the remote call button on his hovercar and smiled when he saw it approaching a few minutes later. It zipped effortlessly between cars until it came to a stop in front of Lance and his new bodygaurd. Lance entered the passcode to unlock his vehicle and turned to Kevin with a grin, his recent troubles temporarily forgotten. "I hope you don't mind manual drive."