Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part Three (section)

==Alex's Dilemma==

===Acquisitions===

Jake leaned against a support pole in a tent in the markets, his back shaking a bit.  Remilia was at his side, worried.  “Jake?” she asked quietly.

“It’s just the gravity.  I’m still a bit short of breath from those damn anticoncussives,” Jake said.  “I’m all right.”

Remilia nodded, stepping back.  Venus was at the counter in the tent, signing an autograph and paying for a vox cozy with the Skarokk city-state emblem on it.  “Thanks, your Highness, you are most kind,” the vendor praised her, before her tone turned low.  “My apologies for the hassle the other night.  Please do not judge us all by our most embittered neighbors.”

“I don’t,” Venus said.  “Farewell.”  She walked back over to the others, sliding the cozy on with a *click*.

“This is so cool.  There’s a little hatch for the charge cord,” she said excitedly.  Jake straightened up, smiling at the trinket.  Venus read a message from the governor she had received on her vox since she had checked it last and switched it off.

“Nice find.”

“You want to stop for a drink?  You look extra pale,” Venus observed.

“I do, actually,” Jake said gratefully.  “The anticoncussives are getting to me in this gravity.”

“Sure thing,” Venus said, eyes settling on a small drink cart at the end of the market row.  Nocturneans, wise in the ways of their world, were never without a source of hydration in public, it seemed.  Jake sank onto a bench on the roadside beyond the market row and Remilia bought drinks for the three of them.  They settled onto the bench and sipped, as Jake checked his vox clock.

“Wow.  It’s much earlier than it feels.”

“You’re still tired,” Remilia observed.

“What exactly did they do to me at the hospital?” Jake asked.

Remilia explained.  “Dug some glass out of your head and stitched you back up with protein cord, gave you some triethyl mono-submorozin to prevent brain damage, gave you some anticoncussives for good measure, and sealed it up.  Minus the glass, it’s the same thing they did to me after I shattered the fuck out of my leg four years back in practice,” Remilia said.  She rolled one pant leg up until a tracery of faded white scars that stretched clean around her left thigh were plainly visible under the red sun.

“Yow,” Jake said.  “How did you manage that?”

“The ball went left, my torso went backwards, my leg went right, my foot went forward,” Remilia recited.  She smirked at his shudder.  “Spent a week in the hospital after they figured I cracked my head on the fall, too.”

“You and Alex both have good sports catastrophe stories,” Jake chuckled.  “I’ll stick with sitting behind a nice, safe desk, drawing things.”

“Paper cuts certainly heal faster than compound fractures, even mine,” Remilia guessed.

“Yep.”  Jake sat back and held an ice cube on his tongue, cooling his mouth off.  Venus stood and dropped her empty drink cup in a nearby recycling bin, leaving her bag behind.

“You guys mind if I go drop off a message?” she asked, as a passing Techmarine, the same one that had caught Freya and Alex’s eye, clomped up the road towards the public tram station.

“Go ahead,” Remilia said as Jake nodded.  Venus walked up to the Techmarine and asked him to halt, discussing something with him.

Jake let the ice melt and swallowed.  “Even here, it’s hot enough to fry soylens on the pavement.”

“Yeah.  Apparently the whole city freezes solid in the Time of Trial when the glaciers up the mountain freeze,” Remilia said idly.

Venus returned from the Techmarine.  “Tech-Brother Corensia said that he would be happy to pass along our acceptance to a dinner with the Governor before we depart and where the hell is my stuff?” she suddenly asked.

“What?”  Jake sat up.

“My bag.  I left it on the ground next to the bench.  Where is it?” she asked, pointing.  Sure enough, her bag was gone.

Remilia swore and vaulted up off the bench.  The bag wasn’t in the hands of any of the nearby people, and somehow it had been snatched out from under even her senses.  “Fuck!”

“What the hell is wrong with this city?!” Venus snarled.

A serf materialized behind them.  “Is this yours, Princess Venus?” he asked, her bag in his hands.

“Yes!  What happened?” Venus asked, snatching it up and rifling through it.

“The perpetrator dropped it on top of a trash barrel in the alley behind us, your Highness, with this,” the serf said, passing her a note.  She grabbed it and read it aloud.

“‘I wouldn’t have taken it if I had known it was yours, Princess,’” Venus said.  Her hand shook with suppressed anger as she handed the note back to the serf, who pocketed it.  “My city fills with vermin and I can do nothing without ruining the trip any more than it already has been,” she snarled.  She turned to the serf, eyes glaring through her shades.  “Put the Enforcers on it.”

“Yes, your Highness,” the serf said, then turned away to speak into his collar.

“Would someone like to tell me how this lift went unobserved?” Venus asked a few shamefaced serfs that had appeared behind her.

“No clue, your Highness, whoever this was, they were hellacious fast,” one volunteered.

Venus’ stomach tightened in frustration.  “I see.”  Jake moved to set his hand on her shoulder and paused.  She sensed his movement, though, and sighed through her teeth.  “Fine.  Fine.  I’m heading back to the markets for one last thing, then we’re out of here,” she said tightly.  She walked off without a word as the serfs melted into the crowd.

===Tomorrow, the Weather Will Be Different===

Alex stomped up the ramp to his father’s shuttle, the Invisible Hand.  The ship was a massively modified Imperial Navy transport, all lines, angles, planes, and gilding.  Alex hated the damn thing.

A figure at the top of the ramp greeted him.  The man was drawn, skinny, and always looked a bit confused, but he was also nearly the only person on Carlin’s crew that Alex liked.  “Heeeey, kid, how’s life treating you?” he asked, lazily flicking some ash off of his cigar.

“It’s been a wild vacation, Big Al,” Alex admitted, shaking the much shorter man’s hand.  “Yours?”

“Man, it’s hot as hell up here,” Big Al said, puffing on the cigar, which Alex suspected the diminutive Astropath rolled himself.  “Radio says it’s something like forty C at the spaceport…but who lives at the spaceport?”

“You’re in the spaceport, Big Al,” Alex said.

“Oh, hey.”  The psyker blinked.  “Didn’t know.”

Alex sighed, his dark mood lifting.  “Where’s the old guy?”

“Which?  There’s around eight in there,” Big Al said lazily.  “Oh!  The really old one is waiting for you in the bar.”

“Great.  Thanks.”  Alex walked past him onto a carpet that had to be two inches deep.  He grimaced at the opulence of his surroundings.  Tasteless artwork of his own family, other famous Imperials, and a few notable politicians decorated the bulkheads of the ship as he marched through it.  He knew for a fact that they could be slid behind panels and new ones rotated to replace them.

The rugby player, in his thermoreflective clothing and dusty boots, couldn’t have looked less like the man waiting for him at the bar two decks up from the hatch.  Where Alex was muscled and thick, the man in the Rogue Trader’s gilding and exotic purple cloak was thin and tall.  Where Alex’s hair was a dark brown and straight, his father’s was dirty blond and wavy.  Alex shaved his facial hair like it was a personal grudge, and his father had a luxurious, pointed beard.

Still, the resemblance did cover one thing: the voice.  Alex and his father sounded so alike they were mistaken for each other on the vox, something that horrified Alex and delighted his father.  Kimball-Carlin had made his fortune as a trader of pre-Crusade antiquities and treasures of artifice.  Not weapons or technology, but trinkets and household goods.  The O’Neill clock on Horus Lupercal’s desk was a purchase from Kimball-Carlin.  He had sold ancient artifacts that had been nothing more than junk when they had been made to collectors across the breadth and span of the galaxy, turning his own father’s Writ of Trade into a trading empire.

Alex came to a halt at the bar.  “Hello, Dad,” he said.

“Hello, Alex.  Good to see you, kid,” Joseph said.  “How’s your vacation been?”

“As of two days ago, awful,” Alex said coldly.

“Yeah?  What happened?”

“My friend, Jake, got mauled in a bar fight,” Alex replied, glaring at the bar in which he they were standing.

Joseph cocked an eyebrow, his rough voice at odds with his appearance.  “That a fact?  That sucks.  Is he gonna be alright?”

“Eventually.”  Alex looked back at his father, trying to find the embers of resentment Big Al had tried to extinguish.  He wondered bitterly if his father had had the psyker he knew Alex liked be the one to greet him on purpose.  “What’s this I hear about generator problems on the Star?”

“We found some Diaspora-era animals in cryo-suspension and were hauling them to a Mechanicus facility on Gaviox for gene-sequencing,” Joseph explained.  “One slipped its tank and tried to nest in the generator’s wiring.”

“Anyone hurt?” Alex asked.

“Just the critter.”  Joseph sighed.  “Kiddo, I can hear the resentment coming off of you.”

“Dad, I SPECIFICALLY asked you not to come find us while we were on the road trip!” Alex exploded.  “And here you are!”

Joseph straightened up and glared up at his son.  “I can’t help when my cargo attacks my ship’s wiring!”

“Dad…you could have just stayed in Clymene and asked me to come see you!  But instead you came to the city you KNEW I was in, and called me to let me KNOW that you had, not even giving me a choice!  For a change,” Alex added darkly.

===Playing Dress-up===

Remilia looked over the small selection of formalwear in the shop they had chosen, impressed despite herself.  Even the most remote of Nocturnean cities, it seemed, possessed master craftsmen.  She ran her fingers along the sleeve of a formal blouse, doing some quick mental math.  It was well within her budget.  Venus waited outside, having already decided that her full formal uniform, sans the crown, would do for the formal dinner tonight.  Jake stood nervously beside her.  “Venus, I’m a bit worried about tonight,” he admitted.

“How come?  Does your head hurt?” Venus asked.

“No, it’s just…what am I going to do?  Everybody there is either going to ignore me or ask forgiveness of me the whole night,” Jake  said.  “And what will I wear?  I don’t have anything more formal than a collared short-sleeve polo and cargo pants,” he pointed out.  “Don’t get me wrong, I want to go, but I’ll stand out.”

“Well, the obsequiousness I can’t help with, but I can help with clothes,” Venus said.

Remilia emerged from the shop, shirt draped over her arm.  “Let me,” she said.

“Pardon?” Jake asked.

“When we started out, we agreed I would cover your clothes, right?” Remilia pointed out.  She passed him a credit card.  “That’s a pre-paid.  Get something nice and keep the change,” she said.

“Keep the…” Jake stared at the card.  It was worth fifty thousand credits.  His father didn’t earn fifty thousand credits in a year.

“It’s mostly spent, actually,” Remilia said, noting his expression.  “Seriously, go get good clothes.”

“Thanks, Remilia,” Jake said, taken completely aback.  “Really, this…well.  I’ll…uh, I’ll see you both tonight, then?” he asked.

“If you want.  See you at the dinner,” Venus said, pecking him on the cheek.  “Bye,” she added.  She and Remilia departed with the majority of the plainclothes unobtrusively drifting along with them.

Jake walked into the shop Remilia had used and started his browsing, selecting a deep gray jacket and black pants that looked a bit old-fashioned to his taste, but fit comfortably within the card’s lingering funds, and at least fitted him perfectly.

As he paid, his eyes went up as he saw the money left on the card.  Five thousand credits cold.  “Remilia, you’re making me blush,” he said under his breath.  With a glance at the jeweler’s across the street, he decided that Venus would probably want to make any jewelry the two of them would wear, and slid the card into his pocket.  Gathering his purchases, he trudged up the rampway to the castle, already wondering how he would explain the day’s activity to the governor.  From what he had heard, he was the easily intimidated type.

Alex sat at the bar, clenching and unclenching his fist.  His father remained standing.  “Alex, that’s not fair.”

“How the hell is it unfair?  You came here when I told you not to, and you waited to tell me you were already here so that I couldn’t ask you not to come.  It’s plenty fair of me to call you on it.”  Alex glared at the man.

“It’s not all right for me to want to know how you’re doing?” Joseph asked.

“Of course it is!  It’s NOT okay for you to completely disregard my explicit instructions!”  Alex slammed his hand on the marble bar.  “Damn it, Dad, this isn’t even the first time!  And what about Venus?!”

“What ABOUT Her Highness?” Joseph asked coldly.

“This is HER FUCKING PLANET!  Did you even ask her if it was alright of you to borrow me for a day?  Or whatever you’re here for?”  Alex stood, fists clenched.  “Is this about the dinner with the Governor tonight?”

“I was invited to dine with the Governor and over a hundred other planetary nobles and Salamander representatives,” Joseph said angrily.  “I didn’t even know you were coming!”

“If I go into my room on this ship right now, will I find a formal uniform of the Carlin Trade Fleet?” Alex asked frigidly.

His father grimaced.  “Yes, because you left it there after last time!”

“That was a year ago.  I’m two sizes bigger now.  Let’s see if it fits,” Alex said, stomping off to the cabin.

As soon as he walked in, he groaned.  “Not even subtle,” he said, glaring at the uniform.  He didn’t even have to put it on to know it was bigger than his old one.

The uniform was a gaudier version of the white formalwear Imperial Navy dress shirt, with purple stripes running from right hip to left shoulder across the chest and silver epaulets, with ceremonial miniaturized laspistols on both hips.  The uniform was cinched with a black belt and gold-chased black boots.

Alex hated it.

“Alex, it’s not like I don’t get a say in this,” his father said coldly from behind him.  “You’re my son.  And whether you accept that it’s there or not, you have a responsibility to the family.  You think Venus likes every part of her duty, since you brought her up?”

“You leave her out of this,” Alex warned his father.  “This is YOUR fault, not Vulkan’s.”

“Alex, if you don’t want to attend the dinner tonight as a representative of the Carlin family, fine, I can deal with that, but the very least you could do is look presentable,” Joseph said, switching tracks.  “Do you want to show up in front of your friends wearing that?” he asked, pointing at Alex’s thermo kit.  “The dinner’s in two hours.”

Alex glared at his father, but he had been outmaneuvered, and he knew it.  “Fine.  Damn it.  Get out so I can change,” he snarled.

Joseph withdrew, having obtained what he had been there to obtain.  Alex pulled his clothes off, stepping into the little cabin’s steam shower to rinse off.  “Arrogant bastard,” he muttered under his breath.

===Everybody All Neat and Pretty?===

Remilia turned slowly in front of her mirror, checking to see how she looked.  To her satisfaction, the blouse and formalwear pants she had selected – she hated dresses – were nicely matched, and covered her forearms neatly.

Jake stuck his head in.  “Hey.  Are you ready to head out?”

“Just about,” Remilia said, grabbing a small silver bracelet and affixing it.  “What did you pick?”

“You tell me,” Jake joked, walking into her bedroom.  The outfit would have looked a bit old in the gilded halls of Terra, but by Nocturnean standards, looked quite presentable indeed.

“You look very handsome,” Remilia said, pausing to admire the golden watch Venus had made, which Jake had decided to switch to the chain setting for the evening.  “Nice touch.”

“Thanks.  This seemed like as good a time as any to use it.”  He glanced back into the halls.  “Alex didn’t come back,” he said.

“He’s not picking up his vox, either,” Remilia noted with some concern.  “I’m sure he’s fine, though, he had a platoon of guards with him.”

“Oh, sure,” Jake said, waving their concerns away.  “Hey, you’re looking pretty sharp yourself.  Is that the blouse you got today?”

“Yep, brought the pants from home.”  Remilia had selected a dark theme herself, and aside from the bracelet, was wearing no jewelry or makeup.

“Are you the only one of your cousins who didn’t pierce their ears?” Jake asked.

“Hah!  No, they’re pierced, I just never wear earrings,” she admitted.

“All right, I was just curious.”  Jake tugged his collar a bit, adjusting his lemon-colored silk tie.  “So, hey, do you know if there will be any Astartes there tonight?”

“Present company excepted, you mean?” Remilia asked coyly.

“Sure.”

“A few.  Several Techmarines and Apothecaries base their operations out of the city, but only the Chaplains and company-level officers really make an effort to be seen in public.  Why?” she asked.

“No reason, really.”  Jake sat down in the chair by the door and looked at her carefully.  “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Do you really think of yourself as a Marine?  No offense, but Freya and Venus think of themselves as Astartes through and through; you never even mention the Fists, let alone Inwit.”

Remilia paused to give the question its due reflection.  “I think that’s more a relic of something you’re all too familiar with.  I’m comfortable with who and what I am.”

“Okay.  Thanks.”  Jake stood.  “Well…voxes set to vibrate, nervous flutters suppressed, jewelry fastened securely…I think we’re both set to head out.”
She smiled at her friend.  “Lead the way.”

Venus set the crown back in the box, deciding that she wouldn’t need it.  She powered her weapons on to check their charge levels, and nodded in satisfaction when they both beeped full.  Her cape brushed against the drake leather of her uniform pants as she leaned over.  She had already decided to go for the full effect of her uniform, to give the occasion its proper due, but she wasn’t trying to make a political statement.  The crown stayed.
She clasped her gloves to her belt and pulled her hands free, donning the bloodstone ring she had made.  She started to snug it onto the ring finger of her hand and paused.  She didn’t want to make that mistake again.  She attached it to her index finger instead with a smile.  Let people wonder if she had a digital weapon on.

Jake’s footsteps from the other room drew her attention.  She straightened up and turned around, the cape swirling around her legs.  Jake stood in the doorframe with Remilia and Freya behind him.  “You know, every time I see you in that outfit, I find myself wondering if I’m supposed to take a knee,” he joked.

“What can I say?  It’s growing on me,” Venus said.  She slid one necklace on, and secured a second tiny gold chain between the clasps of the cape.  It ticked against her breastplate.  “Alex a no-show?”

“Won’t even pick up the vox,” Freya said.  She was by far the least formally dressed, at first glance, but the nicely cut sky blue V-neck velvet shirt and jet-black formal pants she was wearing lent themselves capably to her enviable figure.  Over the bare wedge of pale skin, she wore a silver necklace – a gift from Farah – inviting gazes to look and linger on the dark blue sapphire in the middle.

“I’m sure he’s just off arguing with his father,” Venus said.

“What?”  Freya jerked her head back.  “What about his father?  He’s not here.”

“Oh, yes he is,” Venus said.  “His name was on the guest list for party that the governor sent me.”

“Aw, hell,” Freya muttered.

Jake shrugged.  “I still don’t see the issue.  He’s supposed to be a dickbag, sure, but he won’t try to upstage you, will he?”

“Me?  No chance.  The Governor?  Without even breaking a sweat,” Venus said coldly.  She quite deliberately rested a hand on the hilt of her Power Rapier.  “And the Governor’s going to be over the coals today anyway.”

Remilia cocked her head.  She regarded her shorter cousin with caution.  “Is that a fact?”

“This crime spree nearly broke me, and nearly killed Jake.”  Her eyes flashed brilliant red, like drops of blood in sunlight.  “No more.  Forget Dad’s warnings, Sralah gets punished tonight.”

An inkling of how much the recent crimes had truly bothered Venus appeared in Jake’s mind as he watched his girlfriend holster her pistol.  “Venus…you’re not going to kill the man, are you?”

Venus shook her head.  Her unusual haircut swept over her armor.  “I won’t need to.  Just remind him that I can, without consequence, any time I want.”  Her teeth glimmered in the red and yellow lights of the room.  “He’ll find himself motivated after that, I’m sure.”

Alex stood in front of the mirror of his room on the shuttle and straightened his collar.  The tiny guns he had abandoned, a mute act of defiance towards his father’s controlling side.  The rest, though, he did wear, and he would try to look like he didn’t resent it.

“Appreciated or not, you pull it off, Alex,” his father said from the open hatch.

“I think so,” Alex said.  He grabbed a bag from the closet, where he had several stashed, and stuffed his things into it, guns and their gunbelt included.  He paused to extract the vox and its battery, sliding it into its place.

“Why aren’t you wearing the guns?” Joseph asked.

“Because people who carry guns without training are asking for trouble, and I don’t want to look like a pretentious asshole at a dinner with my girlfriend attending,” Alex said shortly.  He turned the vox on and groaned to himself.

“Speaking of, how is Freya?” Joseph asked.

“She’s doing great, and apparently wondering where I am.”  He groaned again.  “What do I even say?  Damn it,” he said, cutting his father’s suggestion off.  “That was rhetorical.”

The vox buzzed.  Alex answered it instantly, discreetly tapping the speakerphone button as he did.  “Hello?”

“Alex!  Where the hell are you?  The dinner’s in fifteen minutes and we’re halfway there!” Freya’s voice said.

“I’m getting dressed, on Dad’s shuttle,” Alex said.

“WHAT?  He’s here?  Oh for…didn’t you specifically say he shouldn’t show his face?” Freya demanded.

“Yes.”

“Fucking…fine.  Get over here, we can bail early if he’s his usual self,” Freya said coldly.

“Sounds good.  See you there, baby.  Bye,” Alex said, thumbing the vox off.

“‘Usual self?’” Joseph asked coldly.

“Yeah.”  Alex picked up the bag and stuffed a few odds and ends into it from the drawers and closets of the room.  “I forgot half of this shit was even here,” he muttered.

“What have you told her, exactly?” Joseph pressed.

Alex quirked an eyebrow.  “What do you mean?  What did I tell her to make her say that?  Nothing, Dad, actions speak louder than words.  After all, you totally got invited to this party before you arrived in-system,” he said, pushing past his father into the corridor.

Joseph grabbed his taller son’s shoulder.  “Alex, I don’t know what Freya does or doesn’t think about me, but if I’ve taught you anything, it’s that you never talk about people behind their backs,” he said tightly.

“Dad, Freya’s met you before.  Remember graduation?  I sure do,” Alex shot back.  He turned his back to his father and walked down the corridor and the stairs at the end.

Big Al was waiting at the hatch again.  Alex wondered if he had even moved in the two hours he had been there.  “Heeeey, kiddo, you’re looking sharp,” the psyker said.  He had somehow acquired a frilly drink, complete with straw and mango slice, since Alex had seem him, and was contentedly slurping away.

“Thanks, Big Al,” Alex said, pausing to chat with his favorite crewman of his father’s.  “Big soiree tonight.  Governors and Astartes and such.  Think this is good?” he asked, displaying the clothes.

“Man, if you’re with the Space Marines, you gotta look like you’re in control of yourself,” the Astropath bemoaned.  “You don’t even have a big hat on!  That works for the Navy guys I met back in the day.”

“Okay, the hat I’ll give you, but how about the rest?” Alex pressed.

“Look like you stepped off a recruiting poster, kid, I should know, I fell for one once,” Big Al sighed.

“Back when you enlisted?” Alex asked, hefting the bag.

“Naw, naw, this was later.”  Big Al took a long drag on his drink.  “Best-looking girl I ever saw.”

Alex threw his head back and laughed.  “I’ve missed you, Big Al.”

“Man, you’ll see me again, man, you go have fun,” Big Al said.  “And say hi to that foxy redhead you’re with sometimes for me.”

“I sure will, my man, but never call her a fox to her face, or she’ll go feral on you,” Alex cautioned.

The diminutive psyker nodded slowly.  “I don’t know that I’d mind, really, man,” he said.

Alex chuckled.  “Careful, Big Al, she’s Leman Russ’ daughter.”

“Aw yeah?  Good for you, kiddo, you’re in good shape,” the psyker said.  “You go have dinner.  I’m gonna finish this and check my messages.”

“You do that.  See you later, Big Al,” Alex said, shaking his hand and grabbing his bag.  He walked down the ramp, waving jauntily to the laid-back psyker.  His father was already waiting in a gaudy groundcar at the foot of the ramp, and Alex scrambled in, dropping his bag in the foot well.

“You always did like Big Al,” Joseph said from the back.

Alex grinned from the front passenger seat.  “How a man like him survived soul-stripping, I’ll never know.  Love him, though, he’s a cool dude.”

Jake puffed out an uncomfortable breath.  The back of the aircar was stiflingly hot.

“May I?” Venus asked.  Jake blinked at her.  “Your handkerchief,” she said.  He glanced down at his breast pocket.  She reached over and grabbed the kerchief, yanking it out and stuffing it into his side pocket.  “Nobody does that in real life.”

“Damn it…see, this is why I was worried.  I’m going to stand out, because I have no idea what the hell is going on,” Jake said.

“Jake, believe me, NOBODY in that room is going to know how Terran nobles act,” Venus assured him.

Jake grinned wryly.  “So rather than set a bad impression, I’ll just set a low standard?”

“Exactly, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Good.”  Jake sighed as his mind drifted to the call with Alex.  “So…do we try and keep Alex and his father separate?”

“Alex is a big boy, trust me, he can handle this himself,” Freya said coldly.  “And, so we’re clear, ''I'' will handle it if he can’t.”

Jake nodded.  “You bet, Freya, sorry.”

“No problem.  But he’s scared of me, and he secretly wants Alex’s approval, and one plus one equals ‘he’s fucked.’”  Freya offered up a confident grin as the aircar sank to the ground outside the Governor’s Estate mansion.  “Have some trust in me.”

===Catching Up===

George Seager listened to Vulkan describe the attack on Jake, torn between an alien rage and helpless fear.  “Will he recover?” he asked tightly.

“Fully,” Vulkan assured him.  He had invited the Seagers over to share the news he had received in his latest dispatch from Venus.  “Fear not, Skarokk medicae are very, very good.  He’ll be just fine.  I suspect he’s up and about right now,” Vulkan added.

“Damn it all,” George muttered.  Sandra was holding her hand over her mouth, sick to her stomach.  “I thought he’d be at more risk from animals than from drunks,” he said darkly.

“He is, actually.  And really, drunks are animals,” Vulkan noted.  He leaned forward.  “If it’s any consolation, the usual Nocturnean punishment for this sort of dishonorable attempted murder is ‘lock him up and make him watch you melt down the key,’” he said.

“Good,” George growled.  “My son gets his head caved in on a road trip to his girlfriend’s homeworld…damn it all.  And of course, now he gets to have the trip ruined by a trial,” he observed bitterly.

“What trial?” Vulkan asked.

Sandra blinked.  “Won’t there be a trial?”

Misja shook her head.  The two were sitting across from the Seagers in a conversation area in the greatroom of the Forgefather’s mansion.  “Nocturnean law doesn’t require the accused to face the accuser, or the reverse.  Jake can leave the charges standing and depart, whenever he wants.  On the other hand, the standards of burden of proof are much higher, to prevent frivolous cases.  I think a room full of witnesses, some of them Salamander serfs, is more than enough.  Especially since he confessed.”

“Oh…well, that’s a relief,” Sandra said.

“It is.”  Vulkan leaned forward, narrowing his eyes to prevent the Seagers from being blinded.  “Sieur, Madam Seager, I owe you a distinct and genuine apology.”

“I don’t-” George started.  Vulkan gently interrupted.

“George.  Your son was nearly murdered by one of my citizens, in vengeance for a crime my Enforcers failed to prevent.  It is my fault, however indirectly.  To that end, I offer you my heartfelt apology, and offer my assurances that I will endeavor to make my world safe again.  For my daughter, and for your son.”

“I…I understand.”  George looked aside at his wife.  Sandra nodded, pale but resolute.  “We accept, of course.”

“Thank you.”  Vulkan leaned back.  “I asked my Regent, No’dan, for an update of the world’s status before I allowed my daughter and her friends to travel to Nocturne on this venture.  He assured me that the crime rates were unusually high, but that no outstanding threat to Venus’ safety existed.  I can only hope he included any threats to her boyfriend, cousins, and schoolmate in that assessment.”

“I think he would have…at least tried to be helpful,” George said awkwardly.

“No doubt.”  Vulkan smiled at last.  “In any event, I feel I must say: your son impresses me.  Will to live after his mangling aside, Venus has never been happier than she is when discussing him.”

Sandra smiled too, finally relaxing.  “That’s good to hear.  When Jake’s cell vox was broken, he used to hang over the apartment vox like a carrion bird, so he didn’t miss any calls from her.”

Vulkan chuckled.  “Good to know.”  He tapped one finger on his chin, remembering.  “Do you recall when they met?  Venus has recounted it to me a few times.”

“At school, from what I understand,” George said.  “A mutual friend introduced them, I think.”

Misja nodded.  “Farah Manus.  Ferrus’ daughter.  Venus’ best friend since before they could talk,” she said.

“Ferrus…Manus?” George asked.  He slowly shook his head.  “I do apologize, but I’m still not quite used to walking in such…privileged company.  I don’t know how Jake is.”

“I imagine having gym class with their daughters for four years probably helped,” Misja noted drily.

Sandra couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter.  “I would think so, certainly.”

“You know, she told me once that the first thing Jake did when he met her was make eye contact,” Vulkan joked.  “Guess how often that happens in this house.”

“…Not very,” George allowed, after taking a moment to figure whether it was meant as a joke.

Misja rolled her own, normal eyes.  She was quite used to her husband’s theatrics.  “She was afraid that he would be just another sycophant.  But he stuck out a hand to shake, asked her a few questions, told a joke.  He was nervous, of course, but he wanted to know who the pretty girl with the obsidian skin was.  My daughter could have done far worse,” she said.

Both Seagers grinned at the implied compliment.  “Well, thanks, La…Misja.”  Sandra corrected herself.  “Dare I ask what Farah was thinking?”

“What, introducing them?  That Venus would like him, I assume.”  Vulkan nodded.  “I think…even if they had not become something more, they would still have been fast friends.”

“I sure hope so,” George said.  He turning his head aside, remembering how Jake had been when he had first come home from Imperator.  He hadn’t met any of the Primarchs’ daughters until he was in second semester of first year, when several of them had been in his biology class.  “I think he would have been, too.  I remember…when he first met…it must have been Lady Hana he met first, she was assigned to be his partner in a biology lab.”

“First…of my nieces?” Vulkan asked.

“Yes, indeed…he reported being intimidated, naturally enough,” George said.  “I think he simply didn’t know how to act around nobility in that setting.”

“To be fair, most of the people in that school were pretty closed to him,” Sandra said.  George nodded.

“True.  Several of them had no doubt been warned about associating with hivers by their parents.  Even…well,” he suddenly paused as he realized he had been about to discuss one of those nieces in front of their uncle.

“Oh, let me guess.  A few students made mention of his ignoble background?” Vulkan asked flatly.

“They did,” George said.  “Mostly just kids’ stuff, I know, but it still bothered him a bit.”

“He was wise not to let that get to him too much,” Vulkan said.  “Why did you decide to send him to a surface school?”

Sandra shrugged uncomfortably.  “Well, hive schools are more like factories than places of learning.  And George got his education on Mars, so he knew the value of an outside education on Terra.  Mostly, though, he got a scholarship, and he snatched it up.”

“Oh, did he?”  Misja leaned back.  “What was it?”

“The ‘Hab 19889 Prestigious Academic Achievement Award,’” George said.  “Basically, a private school voucher.”

“Good for him.  How did he earn it?” Misja asked.

George smiled tightly.  “Blackmail.”

Vulkan blinked.  “What?”

George sat back against his seat, thinking it over.  “Jake was more than qualified for the award, of course.  And only…what, sixty people out of his class of seventeen thousand students even applied for it?  That sounds right.  He won it fair and square.  But, the number of vouchers was finite, only six would get them.  Jake and five other people from his class, and six from a magnet school in another hive.”

“What’s blackmailing about that?” Vulkan asked, confused.

“Jake’s middle school was selected for it because the school administrator blackmailed the search committee into selecting his school,” George said.  “By the time the news broke, the school had already handed out the vouchers.”  He noted Misja’s shocked expression.  “This happens around our cube pretty often.  You get used to it.”

Vulkan leaned forward again, gauging his guests.  “Why do you want to live in such a place?”

“To be frank, Lord, that’s our business,” George said.  “I will say that it wasn’t entirely my father’s intention and that is the end of it.”

“Very well,” Vulkan said, somewhat taken aback by George’s sudden emotion, but not showing it at all.  “Then may I ask if Jake intends to live in the hives upon graduation, whether he and Venus remain together or not?”

“I haven’t asked.”  Sandra looked sideways at her husband, but didn’t say anything.  George continued.  “My son’s a bright kid, and he genuinely likes the people he knew from the hive.  I trust him to make his own choice.  What your daughter has to say on the subject, I can’t imagine.”

“Her mind is made.  For Jake’s presence or absence, she will live on Nocturne,” Vulkan said.  “College changes things, of course, but that is her intent.”

Abruptly, the door rattled on its hinges.  The Seagers started.  Vulkan, however, smiled.  “Ah.  I was wondering if she had been BCCed into the message.”

The door opened as Farah Manus launched into the room.  Her hair, as ever, was tucked back under her bandana, and her face was flushed.  “Uncle Vulkan, I just got the message!”

“Hello, Farah.  George and Sandra Seager, Farah Manus,” Vulkan said drily, gesturing at the panting girl with the bionic hands standing behind them.

“We’ve met, sir.  Hello, Lady Manus,” Sandra said, rising to her feet.

“Hi, Missus Seager.  Did you get the message too?” she hurriedly asked.

“We were invited over to discuss it,” Sandra said.  “Jake will be fine, apparently.”

“I got that part, but I was back in town for a stopover on my vacation and I wanted to hear what’s going to happen next,” Farah said breathlessly.  “What about Venus?  Is there gonna be a trial?”

“She’s fine, and no,” Vulkan said.  “Farah, sit down.”

Farah sat, still panting.  “I was so surprised!  I thought things had never been safer on Nocturne!” she said.  She blinked at the implications of her words.  “Uh, I don’t mean-”

Vulkan chuckled.  “Farah, there’s a volcano in my backyard on Nocturne.  No offense was intended, none was taken.  That said, so did I.  Clearly, this crime spree must be dealt with.”  Vulkan clenched one fist the size of a rugby ball and looked terrifying for a moment, something at which he was quite skilled.  “I owe my people that much.”  He relaxed again, and the Drake King was an indulgent uncle once more.  “So, Farah…your own trip.  When does it begin?”

“I’m on Earth another forty days, then off to see Mom on Medusa.”  Farah was clearly trying not to worry about Venus and company, and clearly not managing it.  Sandra found it endearing.  “I hate to ask, but is there anything we can do for them?”

“No.  Not without going in person.  Which I won’t.”  Vulkan leaned forward, his expression softening a bit.  “Farah, listen.  Jake will be fine.  They’ll be back on Earth in less than two months.”

“Right.”  Farah sighed tightly.  “All right.  I guess she’ll write when things are resolved.”

“She will, I’m certain,” Vulkan said.  “When I send a response, do you want me to bundle one from you?”

“I would, thanks,” Farah said.  She sighed some of her tension away.  “Well.  Thanks.  I should go,” she said, standing again.  She sadly smiled at the Seagers.  “I’m sorry Jake got hurt.”

Sandra’s response was heavy and tired.  “Us too.”


===The Gala===

Jake stood before his seat, watching Venus lead a small ceremony at the dinner table.  The rows of Salamander serfs, local bureaucrats, politicos and merchants, and PDF officers were standing as well, and listening to Venus race through the pleasantries and pageantry.  As she concluded, she motioned for her people to sit, and they did.  A muted buzz of conversation began as the food was brought out by servitors and serfs.  Venus was sitting at the head of the table, naturally, with nearly sixty people up and down its length, and a man Jake didn’t know at the opposite end.  He was sitting at Venus’ right hand, with the Governor at her left, and the others of their party were scattered throughout.

As they sat, the Governor, Sralah, leaned across the table, his face grave.  “Lord Seager, I must reiterate my apologies for what happened to you.  I am deeply sorry.”

“Good.  I just hope it doesn’t happen again,” Jake said.  “I was out for over a day.”

“I’m sure it won’t,” Sralah said awkwardly.

“Good.”  Jake glanced to his side to see how the man to his right was acting and aped him.

Venus’ eyes lit upon Sralah.  “Governor.  I thank you for your invitation.”  She switched languages.  “May we speak in Nocturnean?”

“I’m afraid I’m not conversational,” the Governor replied.

“Pity,” Venus said.  She switched back to Gothic.  “I wonder if my father’s messages would imply a nearing return visit on his part,” she said casually.  “I hope so.  He needs to see his people again.”

“We would be overjoyed to have our King back with us, of course, your Highness,” Sralah said.  He lifted his hands as the servitor replaced his drink.  “What are these messages?”

Venus explained.  “We send messages back to Terra every so often.  Status reports, you know.”

The Governor nodded.  His robe of office glimmered against the deep yellow and red lights of the ceremonial hall.  “I understand.  How is King Vulkan?  What is he doing on Terra?”

“His role is to induct new members of the Terran wings of the Legions,” Venus said.  “He keeps quite busy, as you’d imagine.”

“Indeed,” Sralah said.  “We tested his tank prototype on the plains of the Delta today.  Remarkable weapon.”

Venus sipped her drink, taking in the room at a glance.  It was clearly meant to accommodate the table.  The room had the exact proportions of width and length as the table itself, leaving comfortable space behind the seats.  The table itself was stone, grey marble, flecked with tiny gold quartz impurities.


“Governor, under what circumstances did Lord Trader Kimball-Carlin come to be in this system?” Jake suddenly asked.

“Oh, an accident aboard his ship,” Sralah said.  “I invited him to the dinner when he stopped in Clymene for parts.”

“I see.”  Jake tore into some bread, sensing Alex’s bitter glare on his neck.  He couldn’t tell if it was his friend’s anger he was feeling or if Alex was just resenting life itself at that point, but Jake was feeling the awkwardness.

Down the table, Alex was eating as fast as he decently could.  Freya was sitting a few chairs down on the opposite side, trying not to laugh at Alex’s discomfort.  Political Officer Haarlan, who had come down from the ship to attend the dinner for some reason – probably the tank – was chatting with Remilia, catching up.

Alex’s father, meanwhile, was busily talking shop with a number of local merchants.  Two of them looked like administrators from the local crafthalls.  Alex himself was wondering if he could make a break for it when the food was done, and the mingling part began.  For the time being, his father’s capricious sense of humor was keeping the burden of conversation off of him.  At that moment, Joseph was telling some complicated joke about how curses were pronounced on different planets, so it was working well.

Venus was going back to speaking with the governor.  “What measures are being taken against this crime wave, precisely, Governor?” she pointedly inquired.

“Well, we’ve already instructed the Enforcers to begin increasing patrol coverage in the areas below the mining tunnels,” the Governor explained.  “We’ve also begun increasing Customs presence at the ports, to prevent the smugglers from arriving in the first place.”

“And what is being done to address the rise in violence from and against Terran tourists and gangsters?” Venus asked.

“Well, short of racial profiling, there’s really not much we can do,” the Governor hedged.  “Most of them are here under legitimate visas.  We can only hope to catch them in the act and surveillance is in place to that end.”  Sralah looked pained for a moment.  “I know that doesn’t sound like enough.  Do you have any suggestions?”

“No, it doesn’t sound like enough.”  Venus’ eyes glimmered.  “I’d encourage you to confer with your counterparts from the other Sanctuaries to see what measures they’ve put in place.”

“I assure you, we have, Princess,” the Governor said.

Jake coughed.  “Er, Governor, if I may, Terra has a number of novel solutions to this problem; certainly it happens in the hives all the time.  Gangs, smuggling, attempted murder…”

The entire end of the table looked over to him.  “What do you mean, Lord Seager?” Sralah asked.

“Well, on Terra, the problem stems from the gargantuan populations of immigrants from other planets that arrive on-planet and make no attempt to integrate with the local populations,” Jake nervously explained.  The attention was discomforting.  “Of course, you know, there’s only so much you can do about that…but the way the Praetors handled it back home was to install motion-sensitive floodlights at street corners so people couldn’t hide in the shadows. Then, they installed Doppler triangulators to measure the distance of any given microphone from the sound of gunshots, and put a few million of those around.  Then they put surveillance cameras on every outdoor ATM and intersection.”

“That sounds rather invasive,” the Governor noted.

Jake shrugged.  “Welcome to the Hives.”

“Did it work?” an Enforcer officer at the table asked.

“It did.  Violent crime dropped by a significant degree,” Jake reported.

“Hmm.  Well, it’s worth considering,” the Enforcer said, digging back in to her goulash.  “I suppose the people protested?”

“Well, I have no idea.  This happened thousands of years ago, and of course the only thing the historians recorded was that it worked,” Jake said cynically.  He softened the remark with a joke.  “Certainly nobody cared if the criminals disliked it.”

Venus smiled.  “See, this the other reason I keep you around,” she gently teased.

Jake shot a nervous glance at her, as if he couldn’t tell she was joking.  She winked at him and turned back to her own food.

Alex, down the row, finished off his food and tensed, his hands on the armrests of his chair.  His father was turning to a topic he had hoped Joseph would avoid: Alex’s own college plans.  “Well, Alex said he wanted to go to college to play, of course,” Joseph noted.

“Were it only that Nocturne could entertain such a standard of living,” one of the local merchants observed.

“So, Lord Carlin…er, the younger, that is.  What sport do you play?” the other asked, finally turning to Alex in person.

“Rugby, midfielder,” Alex said.  “Imperator High Varsity, Division one.”

“Division?”

“Athletic division, not the military kind,” Alex said.  “There’s so many schools that they get assigned to leagues of equivalent budgets and team sizes and such.”

“I can’t imagine living on a world with so many people,” the first merchant said.

Alex shrugged.  “I had it better than most.  The underground hives are much more densely populated.  My hometown, Startseite, is actually less densely populated than, say, Themis.”

“Truly?” the second merchant asked.  “Interesting.  Do you have any aspirations towards joining your father’s Trader fleet?”

Alex paused.  “I don’t know.  I want to see how far my sports career takes me, and I want to get my degree.  Those take priority.”

“I see.”  The second merchant looked like he was about to say more, when Venus stood at the head of the table.


===Premonition===

“Well, Governor, thank you for the excellent meal,” she said, her red gaze sweeping the room.  “Shall we adjourn to the ballroom?”

“Indeed, your Highness,” Sralah said.  He stood as well, as did the rest of the group.  Jake took the opportunity to glance at the others of their group, noting with grim humor that Alex looked about ready to run for the door.  As the group parted to allow Venus to lead them into the nearby room, Alex faded into the shadows of a large, black marble column, and stayed there.

Jake sighed.  His own father had never intimidated or enraged him that much.  He meandered over to where his friends was lurking.  “If you want to head out, man, feel free,” Jake said, sotto voce.

“I will, trust me,” Alex muttered.  “At the dinner, we had to stay in place, at least.  No such safeguards here.”

“What’s with the tin soldier costume?” Jake asked, glancing over the purple, white, and black outfit.

“My father’s colorblind,” Alex said tightly.  Jake put his hands up.  Alex sighed.  “Sorry.”

“Go, man.  No reason to stick around.  You came on your own, Freya can find her own way back or leave with us,” Jake pointed out.

“Yeah.”  Alex glanced over at where Venus was holding court.  Soft music was starting up from the speakers on the pillars and columns of the room.  “I just might.”

Freya spotted them scheming near the door and chuckled.  She trotted over, a grin on her face.  “Well, there you are.  You trying to escape?”

“I sure am,” Alex said, looking around for his father.  Joseph was bedazzling the Governor with some tale or another, his attention firmly drawn away.  “Why?  You trying to duck out too?”

“Nope, I want to stay and mingle a while,” Freya said.

Alex grimaced.  “All right.  I’ll see you tonight,” he said, sidling towards the door.

“Alex, come on.  Stick around for a while.  Your father’s fucking about with the Governor, you’re safe,” Freya said gesturing over to an expansive dessert table.  “At least stay for some wine and schmoozing?”

Alex sighed, tightly and impatiently.  “Fine.  Not a second longer than the time it takes for Dad to get bored.  I know, I know,” he said, catching his friends’ irritated looks.  “I sound like a preacher, here, but trust me, Dad WILL fuck this.”

Venus was deep in conversation with one of the local PDF officers when Jake walked by her on his way from Alex.  “Colonel, that’s not really the point.  The distribution of Mechanicus blueprints to the city manufactoriae is important, obviously, but that means they get to pick production oversight methods.  And the means they have selected are both quite direct,” Venus said.  “That’s the price we paid.”

“I know that, your Highness, but it’s cutting into their resources and our time,” the officer said.  “The unlikelihood of an attack on a Legionary homeworld aside, some of our gear is five generations old.  We’re still using the Mark Ten Leman Russ Demolisher, for goodness’ sakes.  They’re overseeing our production, so they have to know how old some of it is.  And of course, meanwhile the Salamanders just get copies of the blueprints to make as many of their designs as they wish.”

Venus’ eyes narrowed in silence.  The officer paused as his words caught up to him.  “Astartes’ needs would be greater, of course, your Highness, but the point stands.  Why would the Mechanicus insist on babysitting us and then make their own jobs harder?”

“Who knows?” Venus asked.  She caught Jake’s eye as he approached.  “Jake, this is Colonel Kacmen, the local PDF quartermaster.  Colonel, this is Jake Seager."

“Colonel,” Jake said, shaking the proffered hand.

“Sieur.”  The colonel turned back to Venus.  “Would you be able to assist us, your Highness?”

“Perhaps, if I was going anywhere near a Forge World at any point in the next five years,” Venus said.  “I’m heading straight off to college, Colonel.”

“Oh.  I didn’t know that,” the Colonel admitted.  “Whereabouts, your Highness?”

“Kouthry Technical Institute, New Arks Hive, Terra,” Jake said.  Kacmen glanced over at him.

“Are you a student there, sir?” the Colonel asked.

“I was accepted in the same class as Venus,” Jake said.  “We’re rooming.”

“Rooming?  I don’t know what that means,” Kacmen said.

“It means we’re moving into the same room.  Sharing an apartment, Colonel,” Jake said.

Kacmen stared.  “Oh.  I…colleges on Nocturne don’t have those arrangements, you see,” he said.  “Does this mean that you two are Bonded, your Highness?” he awkwardly asked.

“Nope,” Venus replied.  “Just very close.”  Jake smiled to himself, reflecting on his earlier plans, but kept quiet.

“Oh…” Kacmen trailed off, clearly wrong-footed, but pressed on.  “Well, then…what program will you undertake at this college, then, your Highness?”

“I’ll be going for Inorganic Chemistry,” Venus said.  “Jake’s going for Industrial Design.”

“Something that annoys and terrifies me,” Jake said with a laugh.

“Why take classes that frighten you?” Kacmen asked.

“No, no, not my program, Venus’.  Inorganic?  That stuff is a mystery to me.  I loved my Chemistry classes at high school, but I’ve seen Venus’ textbooks, and they baffle me.”  Jake smiled.  “Design, now, that’s nice and simple, comparatively.”

“‘Simple,’ sure,” Venus scoffed.  “Man, I’ve built anti-tank weapons from scratch in my basement and I can’t do what you do with a pencil.”  Jake allowed a modest shrug.


Remilia, meanwhile, was browsing the dessert table when a familiar voice spoke up.  “Well…this ''is'' a pleasant surprise.”  Her eyes tracked the sound –

“Lieutenant Kines?” Remilia asked in surprise.  “Wow, how are you?  What are you doing ashside?

The officer shrugged, offering her his hand.  “Someone needed to fly Haarlan back to the spaceport after he gets drunk,” he said quietly.

Remilia gaped.  “What?”

“Did I say that?  I actually meant that I really wanted to see you.  Wait, that sounds creepy.  How about ‘I volunteered to retrieve the data on the Punisher test from the Governor’s office, and also generously offered myself as the loyal martyr who got stuck in the room full of politicians while the other junior officers descend on Skarokk’s bars like a flock of vultures.’”  Kines thought for a moment.  “At least three of those are true.”

The deep red and yellow lights of the room vanished into the white and grey uniform he was wearing, which was notably bereft of pins, ribbons, medals, and so on.  Then again, he was an O-2 Lieutenant.  Remilia smiled.  “Well, I’m glad to see you too.  How has your month been?”

“Boring.  Very much so.  We weren’t allowed to leave the ship except in groups so we didn’t overwhelm the planet’s limited facilities,” Kines said.

“We only saw a few crew while we were down here,” Remilia remembered.

“Well, ma’am, I’d like to think you stayed close to the upper crust, such as it is, as opposed to what my shipmates have probably been doing,” Kines said.

“What’s that?” Remilia asked.

“Going on hunting expeditions and getting eaten, getting riotously drunk, discovering Nocturnean food poisoning, and making all the local prostitutes very, very rich,” Kines listed.

The Imperial Fists heiress laughed aloud at his refreshing frankness.  “Well, that’s certainly a long way from what we’ve been up to, all right,” she said.  “Have you seen the others?”

“Sadly not, ma’am…Remilia,” he corrected.  “I actually only arrived after the dinner.”

“Oh.”  Remilia glanced around, seeing Jake and Venus still holding court with some PDF, Alex standing clean on the opposite side of the room from them, conspicuously close to a door, and Freya only a few paces away.  “Freya, look who’s here.”

Freya glanced up.  “Oh, hi Lieutenant!  How’s things?” she asked, brushing her fingers on a napkin and walking over, a plate of desserts balanced precariously on one hand.

“Quite well, thanks,” Kines said, shaking her hand.  “I suppose this is about the end of your sojourn, isn’t it?”

“Sadly,” Freya sighed.  “But then we get to go to my home, and I am completely psyched.”  She grinned at the thought, and her fangs glinted in the red light.

Kines, now inured to them, nodded politely.  “Well, it’s good to see that you enjoyed your stay.”

“Well, not so much, really,” Remilia said glumly.  “Did you hear about what happened to Jake?”

“’Fraid not, what happened to him?” Kines asked, glancing over at where the hiver was chatting with a young noble from a local family.

“He got brained by a drunk in a bar and nearly died,” Remilia said matter-of-factly.  Kines started.

“Holy…wow, that’s awful!”  He looked closer at the younger man and noted where the hair on the back of his head was shorn close.  “Well, he’s okay, right?” he asked.

“He’ll be just fine,” Remilia assured him.  Freya noted the pheromones that preceded Remilia’s next question with distinct interest.  “How much longer are you ashside?”

Kines, lacking her ultra-refined senses, shrugged obliviously.  “A few more hours.  No more.”  He half-smiled.  “But we’re going to be the ones carrying you to Fenris, right?”

Remilia didn’t blush.  Freya noted that that had taken conscious effort.  “Right, of course.  Well.  Let’s avail ourselves of the time we have, then,” she said.  Freya smiled to herself and decided to give her cousin a bit of privacy.  She drifted over to where Jake was cheerfully trading banter with a local noble his own age.

“Well, barfights aside, sure, it’s been a fascinating and enjoyable trip,” Jake said to the much darker man.  A boy, really, he looked younger even than Jake.

Freya walked up behind them as the other boy replied.  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said.  He turned as he saw Freya approach.  “Ah, Lady Freya.  A pleasure.  I’m Avin Kel’ro,” he said, extending a hand.

She took the hand and shook it, smiling as if she had the vaguest idea who that was supposed to be.  The lad seemed to wilt a bit as he realized that she had the same lack of knowledge that Jake had apparently displayed.  Before he could expound upon it, however, an altercation from where Alex was standing caught her ear.

===Confrontation===

She was only fifteen paces from them, but even if she hadn’t been, and if she hadn’t had her hearing, she probably could have heard them.  Alex was glaring at his stone-faced father, hand pointing as if in accusation.  “NOT an option,” Alex snarled, and he turned on his heel to storm off.

“We’ll see,” his father said coldly.  Alex’s gait paused – his fists tightened – his teeth clenched…with an act of will, he resumed his exit, all but slamming the door behind him.

Freya walked up behind where Carlin was standing in a crowd of now-silent locals, all of whom were quietly looking somewhere else.  “What just happened?” Freya asked.

Carlin glanced over his shoulder.  “Hello, Freya.”

“What just happened?” Freya repeated, staring at the door.

The Rogue Trader looked away.  “Alex decided he doesn’t want to be a part of the future, apparently,” Joseph said curtly.

Freya stepped around him and glared into his eyes.  “What did you just do?”

“Nothing I hadn’t told him I would do years ago,” Joseph bit off.  “Madam, this is not your business.”

“Is it your business?” Freya asked.

“Naturally.”

“A shame.  Because I thought a Rogue Trader’s business was in their Writ of Trade,” Freya said flatly.  Carlin’s eyes snapped up.  “And if I find out that the thing Alex has been afraid of you doing since the moment you arrived in-system, and which has been hanging over our vacation like a strategic bomber, has just occurred, your Writ will be revoked before you can say ‘Graverobber,’” Freya whispered harshly.  Before Carlin could recover, she turned to follow his son through the door.

Venus watched them go as Remilia and Kines slowly made their way over.  Jake and his new friend stared from a few feet away.  “Venus, what did he say?” Jake asked.

“That’s Alex’s story,” Venus said sadly.  “Let Freya handle it.”  She turned her gaze on her friends and family, her eyes dimming.  “Please?”

“Sure,” Jake said after a moment’s contemplation.  Kines swallowed, the professionally romantic evening he had been planning evaporating.  Remilia looked down at her shoes, sighing heavily.

“Anyway.  Governor,” Venus said, turning back to her shell-shocked subordinate.  “What were you asking?”


Alex stormed past the guards of the room, his face burning with shame.  His father had said it.  He had finally said what he had known the old bastard would say since the moment he had heard the Star had arrived in-system.  He was done.

He nearly ran towards the car park outside, and all but jumped into the diplomatic car they had taken.  “To the castle, quickly, then come back and wait for the others,” he said to the servitor.

The automaton lifted the car up, then paused.  Alex glared at it in seething anger.  “What?!”  The door swung open as Freya caught up.  “Oh…damn it all,” Alex groaned as his girlfriend climbed in.  “Freya-”

“Hush,” she said.  “We’re not going to talk, it’s okay.  We’re just going to drive back to the Castle and get ready for bed,” she soothed.

Alex snorted angrily, but couldn’t say a word.  Freya.  She had been right, the entire time.  The only one he could trust.  She had been there every single time he had needed her, and now she was the only family he had.

The servitor guided them over the city to the Castle, setting them down on the pad.  Alex launched out of the aircar and headed for the entrance to the castle, blowing past the startled serfs at the door without a word.  He climbed the two flights to their room and ripped the door open, yanking his uniform shirt over his head and throwing it in the corner.  “'''DAMN HIM!'''” he yelled to the empty room.

Freya walked in behind him, silent and hesitant.  Her heart ached for her boyfriend, but she knew it was better to let him vent.  Alex slammed the door of the bathroom as she took a few steps toward him.  She heard him moving about and rambling to himself, and she sighed, her eyes watering.

Alex emerged into the room to find the lights dimmed, but not extinguished, and Freya leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom.  “Alex, get in bed,” she said softly.  “I’ll be right with you, I promise,” she said.

“Yeah,” Alex rumbled.  Freya squeezed his shoulder and slid into the bathroom to begin her own routine.

While she did, Alex ripped off the suddenly unbearable uniform and threw it in the same corner, boots and all.  He dropped onto a pillow and bunched his hand in it, trying to choke its life out.

His eyes were hot.  He blinked, trying to clear them, but it wasn’t going away.  Damn it.

The lights died completely.  A moment later, he felt Freya’s warmth slide into bed alongside him.  She didn’t say a word for nearly two agonizing minutes.  Finally, he heard her faint voice.  “I’m not looking.”

“What?” Alex bit off.

“I promise, I’m not looking.”

Alex was about to snap something back when the heat in his eyes overwhelmed him.  A tear fell out of each, staining the pillow.  Before he could address that, his whole chest shook with a sob.  “D-damn it, you’re…” he managed.  He sobbed again, and the dam was open.  He wept, the heat spilling out of his eyes.  Freya silently passed him a hand towel from the bathroom, and he buried his face in it, crying uncontrollably.

Freya turned to face his back, her own eyes leaking now.  “Alex, baby…let it out,” she whispered.

“The son of a bitch,” Alex moaned.  “He really did it.”

“What did he do, love?” she asked.

“He said that…that…” Alex coughed around his tightening throat.  “H-he said that I had to choose between inheriting the Fleet and going to college.  So, basically, my family or my ambition.”  He wiped his eyes on the towel, coughing again.  “I loathe him so much,” Alex whispered bitterly.

Freya’s tears slid down her face as she listened to Alex suffer.  His internals were a mess, she could hear.  His heart rate and blood pressure were all over the place, and his stomach was clenching and unclenching so bad he sounded like he was on the verge of a vomiting spell.  Her every instinct as his partner screamed at her to try and make him better.  Her instincts as a Russ called her in a different, but similar direction.

“Alex…” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be, Freya, this is a good thing,” he snarled into the towel.  “Now we can stay together after summer.  Let the bastard die alone.  Goodness knows driving Mom away wasn’t enough.”  He started crying again.  “Damn it all…damn it…” he sobbed.

Freya buried her face in his bare back, wetting his skin with her tears.  Alex’s own weeping faltered.

“Freya, please don’t…don’t cry, I’m sorry, you…you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said feebly.  “You’re all I have left at this point,” he continued.  “Come on, pull, pull yourself together,” he said, before he curled up in a ball as the enormity of the moment hit him.  “Oh my god, how am I even going to be able to GO to college if he’s not covering it?” he whispered as the full extent of his choice dawned.

Freya heaved, her natural empathy overwhelming her.  “Alex…please…” she whispered tremulously.

Alex sagged into the mattress, reeling.  Freya gingerly pulled at his shoulder, rolling him onto his back.  His face was a mask of tears over an expression of shock, abandonment, and seething rage.  Freya sniffed, looking down on her agonized lover.  “Please…” she whispered again.  “…please hold still.”

Alex stared blindly up at the ceiling, his mind firing on all cylinders.  Freya allowed her instincts to take hold, and she gently nuzzled his neck, planting tiny kisses around his jawline.  She gradually worked her way across to his cheek, rubbing it gently, her very human emotions and canine instincts merging.

“Freya…”Alex whispered brokenly.  She ignored him, settling her body against his, trying to comfort him.  She starting crying again, almost silently.  Distantly, Alex heard a faint, persistent, animal whimper from the back of her throat, one she probably wasn’t even aware of.  Alex’s eyes screwed up.
She gently moved up to his ear, running her lips along it, trying to make him feel better.  She slid both hands over his chest to his other side and held him tight, desperately trying to soothe his hurt.

He reached out with his free hand and held her still for a long moment.  He turned his head to look at her, not that he could see in the total darkness of the room.  She could, and hopelessly looked into his eyes, searching for some vague sign that it was working.

Alex slowly shifted to lie parallel to her.  “Freya…thanks,” he said faintly.  He was still a mess inside, but seeing how much distress he was causing her had brought him some clarity.  “Thanks…for being here for me,” he whispered.

She nodded against her bunched-up hair.  “Forever,” she murmured, tears still pouring from her eyes.  She nipped his ear.  The familiar gesture nearly started Alex off again, but he held it in check with an effort.  He gently pulled her upper leg over his own and slid himself flush with her, and she snuggled up against him, still trying to ease his pain.

“Freya…I don’t say it often enough.”  Alex sniffed again.  “I love you.  I really do.”

Freya nodded against his chest, wrapping both arms around him.  “I know you do, Alex, and I love you,” she said, her voice shaking.  He closed his eyes and held her tight, trying to calm his raging emotions.  “You’re still hurting,” she whispered.  “God, I can HEAR you hurting.”  She turned miserable eyes on him.  “I want to make it all better, but I just don’t know how.”

Alex sighed, exhaustion pulling at him.  “I’m sorry.”

“Would…we could have sex,” she whispered.  “Would that make you feel better?”

“Thanks, sweetheart, but…I’m too tired.  I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“Just a thought,” Freya said, chagrined.

He squeezed his arm across her braids.  “But, really, baby…thanks.  Just…be here, okay?  I don’t…I don’t know, I’m…going to try to sleep, think this over in the morning.”

Freya nodded against his chest, hearing his heart finally start to slow.  “Okay.”  She cradled herself up to him, letting her warmth soak into his body.  “I’m so sorry you’re hurting,” she said faintly.

“I am too, baby,” he said thickly.  He leaned into her hair and sighed.  “But you’re here.”

“I’m here,” she responded.  She closed her eyes and listened carefully as he drifted off to an uneasy sleep.


===Anger and Hope===

Venus walked out of the Governor’s mansion and straight up to Carlin’s car as the party started to break up.  She was only waiting a minute before Carlin emerged.  “Lord Carlin.  What was that altercation with your son earlier?” she asked.

Carlin moved to pass her.  “An internal matter of the Kimball-Carlin trade fleet,” he said.

Venus’ hand shot out and grabbed his elbow.  “I beg to differ,” she said coldly.  “Because tonight, you made it our business too.”

Carlin tried to pull his arm away and found it locked in a death grip.  “This does not concern you, your Highness,” he grated.  He tugged at his arm, and this time Venus squeezed, as hard as her super-human anatomy would allow.  Carlin gasped in surprise and sudden discomfort.

“Wrong,” Venus bit off.  Her eyes flared to a frightening red.  “Listen carefully, Carlin, because I don’t feel like repeating myself.  Your unwanted presence in MY star system has been hanging over this entire trip, and Alex has been resenting every second of it, thoroughly torpedoing an effort that I had hoped would make a good endcap to a very, very shitty Senior Year of high school.”  Her grip creaked on his arm.  “So if you are still present in this system, or, if you’re an even bigger idiot than you look, the Fenris system when next I check, I will personally approve your internment by the Legion, for as long as I care to.  Is that anything other than crystal clear?”

Carlin snarled, but even enraged he knew not to defy a Lady Primarch.  “No…your Highness.”

Venus tossed his arm aside with casual disgust, and reached into the opening door of the car to extract Alex’s bag of possessions.  As she emerged, she skewered the seething Rogue Trader with a withering glare.  “I mean it, Carlin.  This was supposed to be a chance for Alex to relax and get away from home, and he specifically told you so before he left.  Make tracks, or learn to like prison food.”

Without another word, she tossed the bag over her shoulder and walked up to where the Governor was nervously waiting.  Seeing the burning anger in her eyes, he immediately dropped to one knee.  “Your Highness, I must offer my apologies for the behavior of my guest.  If I had known he had been instructed not to be here, I would have not have invited him,” he said, contrition and apology etched on his face.  “And for these crimes to have further spoiled your time…I am profoundly sorry.”

Venus drew herself up, eyes flashing.  “Governor, I would have you implement my boyfriend’s suggestions, regarding the reduction of this crime spree.  As for the behavior of Lord Trader Carlin, his faults have been addressed by my own hand, and he will not trouble us again if he wishes to breathe clean air.”  She glared down at Sralah.  “However, with incident after incident intruding on our time on this world, I am beginning to wonder if perhaps I should have spent the trip elsewhere, which is the LAST feeling I wished to have on this venture.  Need I go into detail?”

“Certainly not, your Highness!” the Governor said, scrambling to his feet, and paling a bit.  “How may I rectify it?”

Venus scoffed.  “Right now, it’s probably too late to implement new measures in time for the rest of the trip.  I suspect we will simply make a point of visiting only those areas of the city and its environment that are deemed secure by the Enforcers, however few that may be.”  She added the final barb with a chilling directness.  “Until then…farewell.”  She turned on her heel and walked back to where the diplomatic car had returned, leaving the Governor staring at her cape.

Kines and Remilia were standing beside the car already, and Venus slowed to grant them a moment’s quiet.  “Well, Remilia, I’m sorry things took a turn for the sour,” Kines said ruefully.

Remilia nodded in agreement, her face glum.  “Me too.”  She looked up at him, shrugging.  “Well, I’m sure things will calm down on the ship.”  She smiled slightly.  “So…which of the four things wasn’t true?”

“Pardon?”

“Back when I saw you after you arrived.  Which of the four wasn’t true?” Remilia asked.

Kines thought back.  “Uh, the part about having to drive Haarlan back to the starport,” he said.  The obvious implication, that he really wanted to see her again, brought a hint of pink to her cheeks.

“Well…that’s nice of you,” she said, feeling a funny sensation she hadn’t felt in a while running through her.  Kines, obviously, noticed.  He nervously grinned.  Venus’ eyes followed them back and forth, her eyebrows slowly rising in mirth.

“I…suspect we won’t see each other until you’re ready to depart for Fenris, ma’am…Remilia, so for now, at least, goodbye,” he said.  She reached over and squeezed his hand, then quickly turned it into an awkward hug.

Venus bit her lip.  Kines flushed deep red and took a step back.  “In case Haarlan’s watching, let’s pretend you just fell,” he said nervously.

“R-right,” she said.  She slid into the car.  “Uh, goodnight, Lieutenant.”

“Good night, ma’am,” Kines said.  He stared at her a moment longer before turning and nearly bumping into Venus.  “Oh!  Sorry, ma’am, didn’t see you there,” he quickly apologized.

Venus offered up a sly, encouraging little smile.  “It’s nice to see Remilia happy again,” she said off-handedly, as Jake climbed into the car too.

“Well, I’d…hmm.”  Kines shrugged awkwardly.  “I suppose it is,” he said.

Venus winked.  “Uh huh.  You keep yourself out of trouble, now, Lieutenant,” she said, following Jake into the car.

Remilia was cradling her hand where she had shaken Kines’, staring out the window into the setting red sun.  Venus closed the door and the car took off.  Jake managed to keep his mouth shut.  Venus didn’t.

“Remilia.”

She turned her head to look at her cousin, apprehensive.  “That was adorable,” Venus continued.

“Shush,” Remilia grumbled.  She suddenly looked upright.  “Oh man, you don’t think Haarlan was really watching, do you?  I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

“Haarlan was already in his car,” Jake said.  “I think you’re good.”

Remilia sighed.  “All right.”  She sat back in her seat, looking for some safer topic.  “So…what do we have planned for the rest of the trip?” she asked.

“Nothing, we can do whatever,” Venus said.  She clenched a fist.  “But after that scumbag Carlin…I think I’m going to call in a favor, really go all-out with you guys.  We deserve SOMETHING good in this city,” she said darkly.

“A favor?  With who?  You’ve never been to Skarokk before,” Jake pointed out.

“Not personally.”  She leaned forward.  “You guys will love it.  Trust me.”

Freya’s eye snapped open at the sound of Venus’ voice in the hall.  She very slowly disentangled herself from Alex and padded over to the door, opening it a crack.  “Guys?” she whispered.

Venus turned to look at her and passed her Alex’s bag.  “Alex’s stuff.”

Freya nodded.  “Carlin?”

“Gone by sunrise if he doesn’t want to get arrested,” Venus replied under her breath.  Freya nodded.

“Good.  See you when…” she glanced over at Alex.  “When he’s ready.”

“Take good care of him, now,” Venus whispered solemnly.  “No plans for tomorrow.  Take as long as he needs.”

“I will,” Freya promised with a sad little smile.  How fitting that people who were little more than aliens to most humans could care for Alex more than his own blood relatives, she thought.

Venus mouthed ‘good night’ and made into her room, with Jake and Remilia dispersing as well.  Freya closed the door and set the bag down.  As she did, however, the battery in his vox beeped to signify its dying charge, and Alex awoke.

“Whu?” he asked.  Freya was at his side in an instant, gently kissing his forehead.

“Shhh, baby, it’s just the others coming back from the party.”

“Mmm.”  Alex settled back down as Freya curled up next to him.  He shifted partway, leaning over her.  “Freya…do you think I’m…stupid?” he asked blearily.

“Of course not, why would I do that?” she asked softly.

“Because I am…I went and saw the bastard this afternoon…after I promised myself…that I wouldn’t,” he muttered.  “Asshole probably planned this entire thing…preyed on my…wanting him to…to…” he trailed off as he choked up again.

Freya squeezed her eyes shut to ward off bitter tears.  “Alex, I love you, and your mother loves you, and Venus and Jake and Remilia love you.  That’s good too, right?” she asked, her voice shaking.

Alex sighed in her ear.  “Mom’s flat broke in Startseite…after he cut her off.”  He was quiet for a moment.  “But…yeah.  You guys are great.”  He slid his hand over her arm, pulling her into a spoon.  “Hey…I’m tired,” he managed.  “You mind if I just…sleep through whatever, tomorrow?”

She snuggled her back against him, letting his arm drape over her breasts in a comforting hug.  “For as long as you want, Alex,” she whispered.

“Mmm.”  He sighed, resting his head on the pile of her braids that spilled out from behind her head.  “I love you, Freya.”

She clasped his hand with both of her own, letting her warmth lull him to sleep once more.  “I love you too, Alex,” she murmured.