Taking the Edge Off
Modius watched his sister leave and felt a stab of pain in his heart, he had put everything on the table in one last bid to make his sister take the mark. There were things he still couldn’t tell her, secrets that weren’t his to share. But he was so sure that everything else would have convinced her, but maybe he was wrong.
He spent some time pretending to tidy up his office just to put his thoughts in order before he straightened his robes and left for the Astaroth. Alwen was nowhere to be seen when he left his ship, which was probably for the best. She probably didn’t want to see him right now anyway.
As always the Astaroth was disconcertingly similar to the Asmodeus, and he had to desperately remember the way to Aster’s cabin. Which was similar to the route he had to take on his own ship, with a left turn instead of right turn at the end of the hall. Modius stared at the splotchy dark patches on the floors where blood had irreversibly stained the wood and felt guilt at not being there to help. He had been in a meeting with Admiral Kedi on Torwen when the message on the quantum com came in, and he got under way as fast as he could. When he pulled into Femeri he received news of the pirate attack on the station and knew things had gone terribly wrong. He had sat tensely throughout the whole journey to the meet up point, and only relaxed when he saw that Alwen hadn’t been hurt during the attack, only to then feel guilty when he saw that Astarte had lost an eye.
According to one of the human nurses aboard his ship, eyes were incredibly complex organs that were very hard to clone, and even harder to replace cybernetically. So it was likely that Astarte would forever be one eye short. When he saw her during the meeting she acted as if nothing had happened to her, and he relaxed until he talked with her later. She had been acting so casually that he even forgot she lost it at all. But he saw the momentary pain and anger on her face when she was reminded of the loss.
After making only one wrong turn he stood before her door and knocked gently.
“Come in” was the muffled reply.
He entered her immaculately clean office and was surprised to see that for once she wasn’t wearing her armor, and even more surprising was that her hair had been brushed straight and fell loosely behind her like black silk. The robes she wore were a simple patternless dark blue on black, and for once she looked completely at ease. It was all so at odds with the women he had come to know.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
Modius gathered his wits, turned away from her alluring form, and crossed the room to pour light amber spiced rum into two crystal glasses that Astarte kept on hand. He noticed that her shelves were a little sparser than he remembered, and most of the bottles were already half gone. He stared into the empty sockets of the fake human skull she used as a book end and habitually scanned her shelves for any new books. He had taken an interest in the books she was reading the first time he visited her office; she noticed his curiosity and gave him several books to muddle through as his English got better. The first Terran book he had ever read was the epic Poem Paradise lost, he had really identified with the main character and got to see where all the Hellworlders got their ship names. He only later learned from captain Bell that he wasn’t supposed to identify with Satan, and the whole point of the book was to see the devils evil and cunning as he got the reader to sympathize with him as he damned all mankind. Though he got the feeling that Astarte didn’t see it that way.
After most of the books she had on her shelves he began to notice that Astarte had a sense of humor when it came to her shelving system. For a person as meticulous and organized as Aster he had wondered why none of the books were organized alphabetically or by subject, but now that he knew the contents of within better he could see a subtle joke on every shelf. The Union Codex, the founding articles of the Grand Galactic Union, was cheekily placed in between Machiavelli’s Leviathan and Prince. Karl Marx’s Communist manifest was placed flat on the shelf with Orwells Animal Farm and 1984 placed triumphantly on top of the revolutionary book. Mien Kampf was placed firmly underneath the Federalist papers, and a collection of Winston Churchill speeches,
He pulled his gaze from the empty sockets of the human skull and brought the two glasses and the bottle over, passed one to Aster, and finished off his own in one gulp before pouring himself another.
“That bad?” she asked, a wry smile pulling at her lips.
“I think she hates me” he said glumly.
“I’m not sure she allows herself to hate” she countered.
Modius sighed and took a slower sip of his drink “I told her.” Was all he said.
Aster pursed her lips “How much?”
There was no judgment or reproach there, just concern. “Only what I had a right to tell her. Only my own secrets.”
“So she’s still missing half of the truth, as smart as she is that’s more than enough to piece it all together.”
“How much do you think she figured out already?”
“Hmm, I was informed that she deduced that there was more to us than what meets the eye, and she pieced together the existence of the fleet by cross referencing her pay with our cargo holds. I’d say she might have had an inkling of our true goals, but obviously the ins and outs still elude her.” she said contemplatively.
Modius sighed “I really think I messed up.”
“How so?”
“I played with her life just like father did. I changed the natural course of her life because I thought I knew better than her. I think I was just pushing what I thought she should be upon her?”
Aster frowned “Maybe, but I don’t think so. I got her measure on that first day we met, and again when we sparred a couple weeks ago. She’s strong, strong enough to handle everything this life throws at her. She was born to be more, living a quiet life would have been a waste in her case.”
“But wouldn’t that have been better for her? Her life before may have been boring and miserable but at least she could sleep at night, she was close to having a panic attack when I told her the whole truth.”
Aster stared at Modius for a long minute before she reached into a box at her side and pulled out a slender cigar, she offered one to Modius and he declined, he felt to awful inside to really enjoy Aster’s fine cigars, it would be wasted on him.
She cut the tail, and had it lit within a few seconds and took in a deep drag before speaking “With humans there’s something within our souls that will never be content with living a quiet and meaningless life. There is something within us that is always trying to push the boundaries of what we can do, and what we can become. The desire to grow, learn, and explore is so fundamentally human that we wouldn’t be ourselves without it. I have a feeling that it’s the same for your people as well. I know you aren’t human, but the Torweni all possess the same quality that defines us both as a species and as a people. Its why you and I both feel that need to fight to defend our right to be ourselves and to determine our own path, to not lay ourselves bare to what someone else says is best for us.” She took in another drag before letting it out slowly “I think your sister knows that, or at least just a little. This life might be Hell at times, but its also very freeing. She’s been learning from Bachir and has even begun research of her own that could change the way your world approaches medicine. She’s begun to make real lifelong friends, friends that would do anything to help her out. She’s even begun to learn kenjutsu with captain Gato. Out here she can become the person your society never gave her the chance to be. And day by day she’s exploring all the possibilities she never even knew were out there. She’s matured more in the last few months than she did her while life.”
Her words moved him, and Modius was reminded why he had grown to admire this space pirate so much. “And the mark?”
She smiled “She has already grown this much after only six months aboard, I have her for another year, let’s see how she feels about it then.”
Modius felt some of the weight on his shoulders go away, and when she offered her lit cigar to him he accepted and took in the ash gray smoke with a sigh. She reached out a hand and took out another cigar, lit it, and leaned back in quiet contemplation. Modius copied her posture and tried to see the world the way Astarte did.
She didn’t look view life’s challenges as things that hindered her way, but as chances to grow until she overcame each obstacle. For her the sky wasn’t the limit, just the starting point. It was something he truly admired about her.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Should we talk about how to handle the trial?” he asked after some a few quiet minutes.
“Not tonight, tonight lets just talk about normal things, I’ve spent the last few months worrying about all that stuff, and right now I would just like to take the edge off” she gave him a look that he had seen only a few times before.
It was a look that slyly suggested just how he and her could take the edge off together. Before when he had seen it he had ignored the subtle things it implied. Not because he wasn’t interested; because he was very much interested in her, despite both of them being from two different species. He had ignored it before because he knew it would only be a physical release, not the emotional connection he wanted. But tonight he felt like that physical release was what he needed to set his head on right. It was time to stop pinning after something that could never be and enjoy what he could of their friendship.
“What kind of things did you have in mind?” he asked coyly.
She smiled “Well first we’ll start with more rum, and then see where things go” she held up her empty glass and Modius laughed as he refilled it.
She flashed him a big grin and fluttered her lashes suggestively as she sipped the fine rum. And Modius finally let his gaze dip below her neck to the slightly undone lapel of her robes, open enough to show a little of her fine cream-colored skin, but nothing more.
She watched his gaze and set her half full glass down before slowly sitting up. Her robes shifted with her movement as she stood up from the chair and slowly prowled over to his chair. Without any prompting she leaned over him and placed one well toned leg next to his own before putting her other leg on his other side. He looked her up and down as his pulse quickened, and Aster glanced down before biting her lower lip. She placed a hand on his pounding heart and settled fully into his lap before pressing a soft teasing kiss on lips.
She pulled back and he could no longer hold him self back as he went in for a second more passionate kiss.
And like that, all thoughts about his sister, the trail ahead of them, or how this could change things between them, flew out of his mind as he thanked all the Gods on Torwen and Earth, for good rum and pretty alien women.
~~~*~~~
Alwen walked in silence for a while, just content to listen to the easy banter of the group. Alice was reconnecting with a fellow marine named Metallika, a dark-haired women with pale skin and cunning blue eyes. Metallika had tons of metal piercings, some through her lips, one that pierced her eyebrow, and so many in her ears that there was more metal than skin at this point.
There was another girl who stayed by Metallika’s side the whole time, never straying more than a few paces away as they walked. Alwen couldn’t see much of her face under the bandana she wore beneath her nose and the scarf that was tied around her head. All Alwen could really see were her soft brown eyes and a bit of light brown skin. Bachir had explained some of the religious customs of his people when he retreated to his quarters for prayer during the month of ‘Ramadan’, only coming out for the nightly feast with some of the ships other Muslims. From what Alwen could tell, the girl wasn’t wearing a hijab to cover her face, it seemed more a desire to hide her face than anything.
Alwen watched with curiosity as Metallika would turn to talk to the girl and laugh at a response that nobody else seemed to hear, like Metallika was somehow reading her mind or something? Everyone, else seemed very used to the behavior so Alwen thought it was best not to mention it.
As they exited the safety of the Hellworlder hanger Alwen got her first look at the sprawling bazaar before her. The hall had opened up into the cavernous bowels of the station to reveal an open-air market. Tarps and stalls had been thrown up everywhere within the dim hold, aliens of every shape and size hawked their wares to any onlooker who showed the barest hint of interest. Guns, blades, bombs, and what Alwen assumed were drugs, lined the shelves and dangled from the rafters of the stalls. Every so often there was a properly constructed building jutting out from the rabble, bedecked with hundreds of glowing neon signs advertising everything from bars, to fighting pits. Above Alwens head rickety looking rope and wire bridges connected the roofs of the buildings where even more stalls were crammed. Some aliens had even strung their stalls from the support beams in the ceiling thirty or so meters above her.
Limey turned to Alwen “Welcome to the Great Hollow market” he said with an impish grin. “One of six such markets on the capital station. This is one of the safer and richer markets here, but there are some rules you’ll need to follow Luv.”
“Rule one.” Isabella said, holding up a single finger “Don’t stray from the group, there are always scum waiting to ambush unsuspecting victims. They’ll drag you to the slave pens and have you sold off to some pendejo within an hour and we’ll be lucky to catch you before your taken off station.”
“Rule two is to trust no one but us.” Gabe said. “Even if they’re other Terrans there’s no guarantee that they’re one of us. Plenty of other pirates bring on Terran crew for our versatility and strength. If you really must trust a Terran you don’t know then check their clothes, we wear these robes to set ourselves apart from those guys, but its not always a sure sign. Remember, robes and hakamas aren’t always proof, check for a wakizashi as well. If they dress like us but don’t have a wakizashi then they’re probably a fake. Check for the marks as well, all of us are branded and that’s a hard part to fake.”
“Rule three.” Alice said gravely “If someone nabs something off of you then don’t bother chasing after them. They know this place better than any of us, and will disappear with ease. Plus they could be trying to lead you into a trap.”
“Four” Gato growled “If someone draws a weapon on you, you kill them. No one cares if you die here, and no one will care if you kill them first. And don’t get yourself involved in something that isn’t your problem, there are no innocent victims here Vi.”
“Right” Alwen said cautiously, now looking around at the crowds of criminals around her with more apprehension. “Are we sure the drinks are worth the trouble?”
“Hell yeah girl!” Metallika enthused, speaking to Alwen for the first time “the walk over is a little harrying, but Clancy’s pub is worth it. Hookahs, beer, sexy dancers, gambling, and hired muscle to keep things civil.”
“There’s an Irish pub on a pirate station?” Alwen asked bewildered.
“Pff, there’s an Irish pub everywhere.” Metallika said, the metal in her face reflecting off of a neon sign as she talked.
The silent girl exchanged a look with the boisterous woman.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to burn this one down Mute” Metallika said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Okay I have to ask, are you psychic? Because I didn’t hear her say anything” Alwen asked.
“Naw, Mute’s a mute, she doesn’t like talking much. But her face reads like a book, it’s pretty easy to tell what she’s thinking from a glance.”
Everyone else subtly shook their heads, silently telling Alwen that only Metallika knew how to read the stone-faced Mute’s meaning.
They continued walking to about where the center of the massive room should be and found a massive four-story building. Terrans and other deathworlders like Trikes and Bone’men were streaming in and out in various states of intoxication, along with some other daring non-deathworlders. Their group walked up to the entrance and were stopped by a massive human man covered in body armor and carrying a heavy repeating rifle. He took one glance to the swords at their hips and let them through with a jerk of his head.
Inside Alwen was met with a dimly lit room bustling with Deathworlders, the bars were packed with so many of them that Alwen could only tell it was a bar by all the people walking away with drinks in hand. Along the back wall amid a crowd a jeering and hooting men and women were scantily clad dancers, both male and female. Some were Terrans, human and uplifted alike, who wore just enough to cover any erotic portion of their bodies. Others it took a moment for Alwen to figure out since she had never seen a Bone’men not wearing their iconic bone plate clothing, Alwen was a little unnerved to realize the arousal their dancing had invoked in her and turned her head away quickly.
They walked right past the dancers and strode up a flight of stairs to a slightly less boisterous balcony area where private booths were set up to overlook the chaos down below. They found an empty booth and table and slid in without hesitation, they seemed to only be made for a group of 6-8 people but since they didn’t want to split up they all had to cram in. Alwen ended up tightly nuzzled in between Gato and Alice, and her nose was starting to feel itchy from all the fur around her. Only a minute later a waiter with bright orange hair and three claw like scars of his face came by with mugs and several pitchers of light-yellow beer. As soon as the drinks touched the table everyone began to gulp down their drinks as fast as they could. The journey to the capital had been a three-month long stint of unwanted sobriety as the ship didn’t allow alcohol for crew members while underway, and now that they had drinks in front of them they were making up for three months without alcohol.
Alwen looked over the balcony and stared into the chaos below “this place is busy” she said when she had finished of her first glass.
“Yeah,” Metallika grinned “Clancy’s made themselves a reputation for being a safe place to hang around without having to worry about being bothered by the thugs that infest this station.”
Alwen furrowed her eyebrows “How’d they manage that?”
Metallika gave a knowing look upwards “Cuz’ no one fucks with the Irish and comes out alive. The boss of the local Irish mob has his headquarters on the third and fourth floors, you’d have to be suicidal to make a move on his turf.” She starred at Alwen for a second as if she just realized something “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, my names Metallika” she reached a hand over the table and Alwen shook it.
“I’m Alwen Djani, but most people just call me Bones.”
“Cuz of the bone growths on your face?”
Alwen shrugged “yes”
She rolled her eyes “yeah, they think they’re so fuckin clever. My names actually Lindsey, but they took one look at my piercings and started calling me Metallika.” Mute put her hand on Metallika’s, and she turned to look the silent woman in the eyes and sighed heavily “that and the fact that my family and I are all priests of the new church.” Mute then removed her hand and nodded softly.
“The new church has priest’s?” Alwen asked confused, so far she had the impression that most Terrans practiced the ‘new faith’ from home.
“Yeah, we study the old and new testaments and preach just like any other Catholic or Protestant sermon, but we also study the works of the new saints and help relate them to modern life. Basically its just normal prayer but with musical accompaniment, I’ve played some songs so many times that I could do it in my sleep.”
“Okay, then can you explain to me how a genre of music became a religion? I’ve tried asking people aboard the Astaroth, but they just shrug their shoulders and say ‘it just is’”
Over the last half year of total cultural submersion Alwen had learned a lot about the history of Terrans, from the Crusades to both world wars. She had learned the bloody history of the Sengoku Jidia, and the origins of Christianity, Islam, and the complaints of Martin Luther. She had even learned about the classic age of Rock n’ Roll. But nowhere in all that history could anyone explain how a genre of music became a religion, or how those musicians became saints.
Metallika visibly cringed “Yeah that’s a hard one to describe. Music had always been tightly tied with spirituality, Gregorian chants, bible hymns, and classical composers who found inspiration from old myths. Same thing with Rock, as the genre progressed people began to play around with religious themes in their songs. Themes like love, death, and grief, which are integral parts to most religions. Throw in some resurgent nostalgia fifty years after the heyday of classic rock, and you’ve got yourself a good formula for a new religion. Though I’m not entirely sure why people began referring to the musicians as saints, they were never properly ordained into sainthood by the Vatican.” She then glanced around the table and stole Mutes untouched glass of beer and started to down it as well.
“That’s it? They were popular, so now they’re considered to be holy texts.” Alwen felt a little let down by the answer.
“God works in mysterious ways. He gave us eyes and ears, and the bountiful girth of all creation to see his majesty. Some people connected with that through words on a page and stories from centuries ago, others expressed that connection in their art by painting old bible stories, landscapes, or other people. Some see his work by studying quantum mechanics, and others by looking up into the vast infinity of the universe. Who’s to say that God wasn’t working through those musicians, influencing them to help spread his message. People have always found comfort and purpose within music, connecting with it on a spiritual level without ever really thinking it was divine. Prayer isn’t something you only do at church or a temple; it’s not just bowing your head and thinking really hard. Its something you do every day, no matter where you are. The word of God isn’t just whatever a priest tells you, it’s the kind actions of a stranger, or words of encouragement from a friend, and the love of a family member.”
Her tone of voice slowly changed over the course of her speech, it became less irreverent and flippant and more solemn and supportive. For the first time since Alwen joined the Hellworlders she got the strange feeling that they weren’t really that different from her own people, Metallika’s words were not too different from what she had heard from Temple Priests back home. Their bodies and lifestyles were different, but underneath their souls were the same as her own peoples.
Metallika scowled at her beer “Danm, I’ve been sober way too long if it only takes one of these to get me going on about religion” she looked back up at Alwen “Sorry, didn’t mean to talk your ears off.”
“Don’t worry about it, I think I needed to hear that.” She said as she poured herself another drink. Now with the impromptu lesson on faith over, everyone began to chat amongst themselves, and slowly over the course of the night Alwen forgot her inner turmoil and just mulled over the unconventional wisdom she had gotten from the strange Hellworlder priest.