“Ki’ato, believe me, I understand. We can give you anything you want.”
“You don’t understand me at all.” She fought back a wave of dizzying sadness. “I want my Confederation commission. I want to fly. To have my own ship again. To follow in my fathers’ footsteps. To honor their memory and what they did for me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I told you that.”
“You can still have it.”
“By giving up my commission? How can you even claim to love and understand me and ask that of me?”
“I have also walked away from the Confederation, need I remind you! It is just one small thing, just a title. Anything else, everything else, us—it is all yours. Please, you promised me you would never leave us!”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t give up my commission. It would be dishonoring my fathers and what they did for me.”
“A Confederation commission is just a title! Does a title mean more to you than anything else? Why does it matter who gives you the title? You did not need a Confederation commission to accomplish what you just did with the Haltoran-dey! Why are we not enough for you? Have we not proven how much we love you? You can stay and serve with me. Then we can be together.”
How could she have thought this man really loved her? What happened to the deep bond she thought nothing could rend? “You sure didn’t act like you guys loved me all this time. I didn’t even get any fucking messages from you the past few months! And it’s not just a title,” she said, feeling the chill creep into her voice. The Ice Queen returneth. “It’s who I am, who I should be. I am a captain. Not a…slave.”
He took a step back, stunned. “Is that truly all you think we are?”
“Isn’t it? You want to keep me chained to your side, clip my wings. You said the night before we left that you would give up your rank. Well, I don’t want to give up my rank! Stay and serve Ker with you? I give up my commission and my job, there’s nothing left for me to do other than be a fuck toy for the two of you. That’s basically what you’re asking of me, to stay and serve you.”
His gaze hardened. “That is not what I ask! We love you with all our hearts. You know that, you are part of our souls, you cannot tell me you do not feel—”
“How can you claim to love me and want to take away my right to fly?”
“Gods, I cannot talk to you when you get like this! That is not what I am asking! Would you please listen to me?”
“It is what you’re asking! It’s what you asked me to do that last night we were together! If it’s not, then let me keep my commission. Prove to me I’m wrong, I’ll gladly listen.” When he didn’t respond, she turned away and twisted the end of her braid around her finger as she stared out the port. The Calpisi Morgan lay docked in the next berth. She could be there in five minutes, on her way back to her old life. Away from the men she loved, men she thought loved her.
She watched Sammuel’s reflection in the port as he stared at her back. “We would give up everything for you, Ki’ato,” he said. “Everything. Why can you not understand that you can have everything you want with us? Just let us give it to you.”
“Then you come with me.”
“We cannot. You know that.”
“Why not?”
He fell silent. She felt his frustration as they once again butted heads. Not the homecoming either of them envisioned, she knew.
“I think,” he finally said in a careful tone, “that we both need to calm down and discuss this at a later time when we can be rational. Neither of us are getting anywhere fighting like this. I do not think you are hearing me, and apparently, I am not understanding you.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes sense since you walked through that door.”
“And see, there you go again!”
Sammuel fell silent as the cabin door slid open. Ker walked in and studied Sammuel and her. In the port she watched their reflections as they silently communicated.
Sammuel sighed. “We shall talk about this later, Ki’ato. When we can both be calm and I can make you see reason.” Then he walked out and the door slid shut behind him.
Pain ripped at her heart and soul. She did love them. Yet the truth stared her in the face, that they didn’t seem to understand anything about her. The brutal honesty of her suddenly-changed future stung her soul.
Boys don’t cry…
“Ki’ato,” Ker said.
“He already told me.” She turned. “My commission. The one thing I cannot give up—and he refuses to budge.”
He looked sad. “Is it really so much? When we can give you everything in return?”
“If you can give me everything, why can’t you claim me as mate to the Confederation? You listed Sammuel as being your spouse, but not me? I’m just a lowly second officer.” She didn’t bother concealing the bitterness and sarcasm in her tone.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Ki’ato, is that what you thought? I did that because I am not foolish when it comes to dealing with humans. I know they do not understand our ways. I listed Sammuel as my spouse to make it easy for them to understand why he would want to stay and why he had not aged in all these years. If I had listed you also as my spouse it would have severely undermined your authority with the Confederation. Do you not think I realized that? I did not want to give the Confederation forces reason to snigger behind your back and doubt your skill. In our world, it is not an issue. In the world you came from, I am well aware you had to fight for every bit of respect you deservedly earned, and a woman with two spouses does not earn respect in Terran culture, she is scorned. We love you, and you are our wife. I did what I thought was best for you. I am sorry it caused you distress. That was not my intention.”
“Then why the fuck couldn’t you write me?” She let her anger and hurt boil over. “After that last message I sent, nothing. That just proves I’m right, doesn’t it?”
“You sounded so angry, I did not know the right words to say. I knew you were upset and did not want to say anything to make you more upset. That is why we immediately headed here to await your recall by the Confederation, so we could be here for you. We love you.”
“How can you claim to know and love me? I just had this conversation with Sammuel. You want to give me everything but the one thing I cannot give up. I’m an officer, a captain. It’s who I am, not just what I do. It’s what my fathers died for. I thought I could walk away from it, but I can’t. I need to fly. Here, I’m ‘just’ a second officer.” She used finger quotes around the word.
“You can still do all of that with us.”
“Then I can keep my Confederation commission?”
He fell silent.
She nodded. “I see.”
“Are you really that miserable with us?”
She choked back a sob. “No. I’m not miserable with you. I have a chance to go back to doing what I love, what I was always meant to do. According to Sammuel, I won’t be allowed to do that if I stay.”
Ker frowned. “That is what he said?”
“Give up my commission, stay here and serve you with him.”
Stalemate.
“That is your final say?” he asked.
“If it is yours.”
He closed his eyes, looking more tired than she ever remembered seeing him. This isn’t how she wanted things to be, but she knew they wouldn’t budge, and neither would she.
“I love you, Ki’ato. I cannot deny it will hurt to lose you. You complete me. If you are unhappy with us however, I cannot and will not force you to stay.”
She stepped toward him. “I can stay, but can’t you just give me this? Let me keep my commission?”
He stroked her cheek, his eyes studying her face as if trying to memorize it one last time. “I could ask the same thing. There is no official treaty between the Confederation and Act’huras yet to allow it. Yes, it is currently a peaceful time and negotiations are beginning. I have no doubt permanent diplomatic relations will soon be forged, especially aft
er this successful mission.
“For now, you cannot have a foot in both worlds. We can give you everything and more than you would have in the Confederation, everything you ever would want or need except a Confederation commission, a simple title. Is that not enough? Can we not talk about this? Why must this be decided this moment?”
“They said I have to leave with the Calpisi Morgan in less than an hour or they’ll consider my commission voluntarily abandoned.”
He slowly nodded. “And otherwise, you will be unhappy.” His hand trailed down her cheek, to her neck, to her shoulder. “I wish I could make you happy, Little One. I have often suspected you might not truly be happy with us. I always felt the shadow in your thoughts. I love you so much. You will take a part of my soul with you when you go. It will always be yours.” He gently squeezed her shoulder before releasing her.
She somehow managed to choke back her sob. “Fight for me to stay if you love me so much!”
He sadly shook his head. “I will never force you to stay. I have always told you that. You have been quite clear about what you want. Unfortunately, it is beyond my ability to give it to you and keep you by my side. If there were any other way, the ability to give you a Confederation commission, I would do so without hesitation. All I can offer is all I can offer. I can give you every freedom you wish while you are with us, grant your every request, and that is exactly what I would do for your love, as I have done for Sammuel throughout the years. Sammuel and I cannot follow you to the Confederation. Their current rules will not allow it. And if that means more to you than our love, if serving a similar position in our fleet is not good enough for you, if the only way I can make you happy is to release you so you may find what you seek and desire with the Confederation, then I cannot hold you back. I am sorry I failed you.” He stepped away from her.
She threw herself into his arms. “I don’t want to leave you! I love both of you!”
He enveloped her in a final hug. “We love you too, Ki’ato. More than you can ever imagine. I am so sorry I have caused you pain. Yet I cannot live and make you unhappy. I would rather release you so you can find what it is you seek. My own pain is inconsequential, love.” He kissed her, then gently caught her wrists in his large hands and stepped back, holding her body away from his. “I therefore release you so you may find the joy and happiness I am not capable of giving you,” he whispered, his voice choking at the end. “My love and heart and soul go with you, always. May you find all you seek, and may your dreams come true.”
He let go of her wrists and stepped through the door. She felt a mental barrier go up in his mind.
As the door slid shut on his departing back, she crumpled to the floor, sobbing, feeling more alone than she ever had in her entire life.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later she stood by the Calpisi Morgan’s hatch. She’d quickly packed two bags, carrying as much as she could, and grabbed her old knapsack. She hadn’t seen her men…
No, not her men anymore.
She closed her eyes and hardened her heart against the swell of tears threatening again.
The men had mentally closed themselves off from her. The echoing loneliness of her single soul rippled through her.
How had she lived like this before?
It was nearly enough to make her turn around and run back to the ship, to beg their forgiveness and say screw her commission.
She felt the chain of Mal’s pendant twined with hers around her neck. She looked at her hand and rubbed her finger across Edmund Lorcan’s ring. If she gave up, gave in, would they understand? Would they have supported her? Abandon her career for a relationship?
The hatch slid open. Captain Darris stood there with his first officer. “Captain Lorcan, are you ready to depart?”
She stiffened her spine. “Yes, Captain Darris.”
Darris motioned to his first, who grabbed her bags. She kept her knapsack. “Welcome back to the Confederation, Captain Lorcan.” Darris snapped her a crisp salute. A military salute.
A formal salute.
She returned it. “Thank you,” she softly said.
The first stood aside, waiting on her to go. “After you, ma’am.”
She didn’t look at him as she walked past. “I prefer sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
Service Before Self.
Boys don’t cry…
Chapter Fifteen
Aine lay on her bunk. The ceiling above her, as always, held no answers, no comfort, no relief for the pain she’d learned to live with. Countless tears shed—self-doubt, anger, and fear—over the past few months.
When she walked onto the Calpisi Morgan, she’d been shown to her cabin, introduced to her temporary yeoman for her short tenure on board, and then once alone she cried herself to sleep so she wouldn’t stand at the view port and watch the Ab’yoika Maru slip away behind them.
Because then she might have been tempted to race to the bridge and demand to return to the station. To her men.
In the months since then, the pain hadn’t abated.
If it had truly been the right decision, would it hurt this much?
Or maybe only the right choices were painful, made in spite of pain, not because of it. It would be easy to stay with the men, to walk away from a career.
Yet how could she turn her back on her destiny? So many lives had been saved by defeating the raiders in this sector, and there were plenty more elsewhere to fight. How could she deny she had a purpose, a higher calling than spending her life on her knees in front of a t’amar-te and her t’wren?
Even if she loved them with all her heart and soul.
Heartbroken. This hurt as bad as losing her fathers, losing Aggie and her parents.
And this time, she was the one walking away.
The door chime sounded, pulling her from her memories. Her latest yeoman. She went through them like water, it seemed. This one, so far, had outlasted the others by two months.
“Come.”
Andrews was an older man, a lifer, perhaps used to dealing with high-strung captains. He might last for a while. “Sir, they’re ready to leave.”
She sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bunk. She took command of the brand new Delvious at the Martian shipyard before construction even completed. It was a fast and well-armed battle-tech class warship. Not as large as a Dreadnought, but the maneuverability would allow them to streak through debris fields in search of hiding raiders in a way not even the Kee-Raw had been able. She personally selected her crew of thirty from a roster of experienced officers and crew requesting transfer to her command.
Her reputation preceded her.
Andrews held her uniform coat for her as she slipped into it. Normally she wouldn’t wear it during the course of a regular day, but this was their maiden voyage. When she saw the Delvious under construction and asked if it was available, the shipyard commander assured her that if she wanted it, it was hers.
She suspected somewhere out there flew a captain who reeeeally hated her for taking his ship.
Frankly, she didn’t care. The Ice Queen had a job to do, and she needed the tools to properly do it.
She was pleased to see several of her inventions, including the scatter shields and cloak devices, now implemented as standard equipment on most Confederation ships.
Another reason, she consoled herself, that she made the right decision. Here she could do even more good, experimenting and developing new technology on Confederation ships that would benefit everyone.
Andrews followed her to the bridge where the crew assembled. They snapped to attention as she coolly cast her gaze over them. They’d quickly learned to pipe down and listen to their captain, that she didn’t speak loudly, and she did not repeat herself.
She had their respect and admiration.
She had their full attention.
“Gentlemen, are we prepared to depart?” she asked.
“Yes, sir!” echoed their voices.
She nodd
ed and slipped into her command chair. “Good. Everyone, take your stations. Com, are we cleared to depart?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Helm, Nav, take us out of here.”
“Yes, sir,” they said.
She sat back and studied her command console. All systems online and green. They were on their way to their first assignment. She was home, where she wanted to be, in command.
Then why did it feel so wrong, leave her feeling so empty?
* * * *
She lay in her bunk and stared at the ceiling. Except for the gym and her command chair, it was where she spent most of her time. “It fucking hurts.”
“Why do you think that is, Captain Lorcan?” the calm, male voice asked. She’d modified the holo psych unit so it wouldn’t record her sessions, couldn’t provide anyone information about what she discussed. It was the only “person” she felt she could talk to.
“Because I miss them. As much as I fucking hate to admit it, I miss them and still wonder if I did the right thing.”
“Didn’t you say they refused to give in?”
The final conversation with her men had become a confused, painful jumble in her mind. Her butting heads with Sammuel, her anger, his—she couldn’t remember who said exactly what. Only that he refused to allow her to hold on to her Confederation commission and they couldn’t stay with her. Things happened too fast, and she felt too much anger and pain to remember the exact words.
“All I wanted to do was my job. So I didn’t let my dads down.”
“Is that the only reason you wished to be a captain?” She’d tried several voice options with the unit. This one sounded least like any of the male voices of her memory. Her birth father. Aggie. Her dads.
Her men.
“No! I enjoy flying, and I love knowing that I make a difference.”
“Then what is the problem, Captain?”
She rolled onto her side. “That’s just it,” she admitted. “I don’t know. Should doing the right thing hurt this much? Especially over a year later?”