Escape from heavalun, p.16
Escape From Heavalun, page 16
She rolled her eyes and gestured up and down at the row Kurlatra Conor was a part of. So were his guards, the Captain and his, as well as Vuraley and his attendant. “None of you are being inspected because of your station.”
“Fuck yeah,” Vitul exclaimed, slapping hands with Cur’sh before the two of them started weaseling their gear away.
Vuraley growled at the pair of guards, quickly silencing their revelry, reminding them that they were not having everything searched because Conor had caught them.
“So, is there anything else you want?” Conor asked, starting to pack up his own gear. “Or are you genuinely just wasting my time?”
“I just wanted to see if you were real and if you would possibly wish to rejoin Humanities’ embrace,” the woman sighed. “It is only fitting that I offer it to you at least.”
“I would rather give a zlit-rat a rim job than go anywhere with you,” Conor sneered, causing even Vuraley to snort and try to hold in a laugh.
Without a doubt, this lady had no good intentions with Conor. The GU would remove his wiring, force him into a dull life, and, worst of all, keep him from making money how he sees fit.
He fully expected that this life would be his death, but that is all he deserved at this point. Playing along with Vuraley and the Kurlatra was just the most straightforward way he saw to meet his end on his terms, and he might be able to have a bit more fun with Eivaley before then.
“So be it,” she sighed before walking off toward the other Human near the Captain. “But do reach out if you change your mind.”
At least she took that on the chin and decided not to do anything else when it came to making Conor’s life more difficult. If she felt like it, she likely could have, but with Vuraley and his apparent immunity, that might not be the case.
“Are you certain about not taking her offer?” Vuraley asked, watching the woman gather her coworkers and head back toward the airlock.
“Yeah, Humanity has never done anything for me,” Conor replied. “The whole species can fall into Urla’s dark fields for all I care.”
Vuraley was silent momentarily, looking out over the bay, pondering something. Whatever it was, Conor could not quite pick it up. The older Kurlatra was quite stoic, so there could be a million things.
“Just keep in mind some people need to be allied with, even if you don’t like them,” Vuraley said, seemingly to no one.
“What?” Conor asked, barely able to hear him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Vuraley shook his head before wandering off.
“Either of you have any idea what that was about?” Conor asked, picking up his bag and looking toward Cur’sh and Vitul.
Both looked at each other for an answer and then back at Conor before shrugging. “No clue.”
Section Fourteen
Livayie
Eivaley paced back and forth near the main hatch leading out of her ship’s hangar bay, the ticking of her long-toe claws on the metal keeping time with her rapid heartbeat. The fleet they were a part of had passed through GU customs almost a week earlier, and she still had no real word on what was going on with Conor.
The last time she had seen him, the royal guards were carrying him on a stretcher onto her father’s ship. He was torn to shreds, had no heartbeat, and was, for all intents and purposes, a dead man.
The image of Conor with that massive piece of frag sticking from his back, yet still giving her a gentle smile, was burned into her mind. According to the ship doctor, she likely was feeling a form of survivor guilt, especially since the rest of Conor’s friends and her entourage all died, but she, as far as her mind saw it, was the only one left.
While likely not intending anything by it, the doctor commented that Conor would likely feel something similar, especially since he would now be in an unfamiliar and isolated environment. That only made Eivaley worry about his state of mind more.
Her father had insisted that Conor had survived the ordeal and that the royal doctor and other medical personnel were taking good care of him. But other than that, he forbade her from contacting him; not even the servants on her ship she was relatively close to would call someone over there and have them give Conor the datapad.
This was not because they wanted to upset her but because, other than official transmissions, her father’s ship was blacked out completely; nothing was going in or out, save for her father’s calls and the calls of the ship’s bridge.
Each of these things was not negative in itself, but when combined, Eivaley felt isolated and entirely in the dark. Why would Daddy do this to her? She had made it well known to him and the doctor he let her speak to that she was angry and wanted to talk to Conor, but they would not budge on the matter, insisting it was for both of their good.
Instead of pouting and throwing a tantrum like a little girl, Eivaley began to plan for once they were back on her home planet of Guelur and in the palace overlooking the city of Livayie. She had so much to show Conor—after all, she still had to convince him to take the leap from being her assigned Champion to one in full right. She also had to ensure he would not feel alone on this new world.
She would also have to apologize to Conor for trying to trick him into giving himself to her. According to the chewing-out Daddy had given her, that would not have counted at making him hers but also would have been an extreme violation of the will of the gods, one that even her royal standing could not shield her from punishment.
If she had paid more attention to her studies growing up, Eivaley would have known that, but she found that realm of academics dull, mothballed, and not worth much effort. Their species should be beyond archaic practices bequeathed by the Gods—the challenge for the house matriarch being at the top of that extensive list to the fifth princess.
As of now, Eivaley had decided there would have to be a few things she assured Conor got a taste of to keep him around: the glorious food that the royal chefs offer, a velvety bed safe from having to watch over your shoulder, some of the royal gardens that extended for dozens of kilometers around the sprawling palace grounds and, of course, unfettered access to her.
She could also not wait for the other proper Champions to meet Conor. While the women of the palace gave one another a respectful berth due to the nature of the competition they were born into, the Champions tended to spend time together regardless of rank. Hopefully, the other Champions will become pillars in Conor’s new life.
Most were warriors and had much in common. Though many came from other walks of life: police chief, ambassador, intelligence agent, and even one or two former royal guards. Why her sisters chose those other roles was for her to imagine. All she knew was why she picked Conor.
In the Human’s case, he was magnanimous, filling the room with his presence and possessive to a near animalistic degree, yet on occasion, he let a little glimmer of his emotions free from his stoic demeanor. All of that protection and mystery he offered was titillating and precisely what she needed in her life.
Conor does not care about her rank and treats her like everyone else. His demeanor was something she and Daddy both enjoyed sincerely. It was rare for people not to place some respect or awe in their status as royalty.
Eivaley looked around the area and saw that more of the ship’s crew had started to join her while waiting in the hangar. They were the family members of the crew on her ship and would not have any duties once her ship’s captain permitted them to depart the vessel once they landed—something that was only a few minutes away.
They were all dressed in relatively traditional Kurlatra attire, loose-fitting earthen-tone garments. While most were commoners and did not have anything boisterous, the families of the officers and low-born nobles did have additional accouterments to fill out their styling: spangles of house colors, piercings of gold in the horns running along their snouts, and even a few wore illustrious bangles.
While Eivaley wore similar garbs, her top was colored baby blue and oozed with golden filigree. The only clothing she wore that was of the more expansive universe was the jeans that Fae had sold her. They were comfortable, and after the adjustments needed for her digitigrade legs and tail, they would undoubtedly work well in the deserts of Guelur.
The arriving families bowed to Eivaley and offered her greetings; some were just general good afternoons, and a few asked the gods to bless their meetings. The small children going around, taught well by their parents, greeted her as the fifth princess and wished her a fruitful life.
It had taken her years for most of the adults to feel comfortable greeting her like a person, but they refused to teach their kids to do the same. This was likely because they knew not many of the Kurlatra royals would be as forgiving as Eivaley for such casual treatment.
Most of her sisters would have them punished, fined, arrested, or, in the worst case, imprisoned for years for such a slight.
For her part, Eivaley put up a front, buried her nervousness, gave them proper greetings, and casually spoke to them all. She asked them about their plans, what family members they would visit, and if any were going to get life coils with a prospective partner.
Almost all of the Kurlatra Eivaley spoke to she knew by name and had most of their life stories nearly memorized. She did falter on a few names here and there, but even these commoners understood the Sisyphean efforts she put in with learning the ever-changing ship’s crew. The occasional misnaming or failure to recall their exact life goals was forgiven.
After nearly an hour of going around to everyone, she could finally feel the inertial dampeners kick on as the ship breached the atmosphere and drifted through the grey clouds outside.
It was a shame this ship did not offer ports to view outside from the hangar bay. It was always a treat looking at the vast deserts and far reaching river deltas that poured out from the Capital and royal palace.
But there would be plenty of time to enjoy the desert’s beating heart once she had reconnected with Conor and he had a place to stay, which her Father had already arranged. Something that slightly annoyed her was that it was clear Conor could not stay in her room. Until the Human was her Champion, he would be stationed in an adjacent room—she just hoped it was not the one currently in her mind.
The multikilometer-long ship lurched to a stop, not even the inertial dampeners being able to restrain that much mass abruptly stopping.
It took the captain an agonizingly long time to arrive. It almost seemed like he was not in any rush to be home, but he would be on the ship all day regardless of how long it took him to welcome everyone back home and let them depart.
Once he arrived, he quickly lowered the ramp, letting the hot, dry air of mid-spring surround them all. The bright light momentarily blinded Eivaley and everyone, having been adapted to the near-constant dim lighting of the ship corridors and datapad screens.
Once that had passed, the grandeur of the spaceport outside the capitol was the first welcoming sight of their home. Thousands of ships and personnel bustled around like insects, performing maintenance, waiting for their families, and unloading equipment from the ships.
Beyond that, Eivaley’s lifelong home reached toward the sky like a stairwell for the gods to reach mortals. Glittering blue rivers flowed down from on high out of grand depictions of the gods standing hundreds of meters high. The water guided the direction of the cities’ streets, just as the word of the same Gods guided the lives of the Kurlatra.
Livayie’s buildings, including the palace, were carved of uncountable tonnes of bright white stone. Each was given elegance through the craftsmanship and accuracy of its creation; spiraling stanchions, grand statues, and photorealistic depictions of life on the buildings’ faces gave life to each.
Lush green gardens, standing just as tall as the buildings themselves, were scattered amidst the buildings, canals, and flowing pristine water.
Atop it all was the palace, which was just as lush and even more grand. While the city took hundreds of empresses and millions of workers thousands of years to create, the palace took twice that long.
But Eivaley and the people’s appreciation for the history and meaning behind the palace’s legacy would have to wait until they managed to arrive home. For most of the people, the royals had arranged buses and other transport from the military airfield they landed on. For her, however, it would be a private escort.
“Princess, are you ready to depart?” Captain Calital asked, the light making his green scales and white uniform practically glow.
After a brief moment, Eivaley remembered that she had been waiting and rushed over to the man, wrapping him a hug.
They had already spoken about how, since she had a potential Champion waiting for her on the other ship, they would forgo the usual method of her having to wait for the Commoners to disembark before she could.
“Thank you,” Eivaley preened, letting go of the hug and rushing down the ramp.
“Don’t forget their ship is on the far end of the rows to the right,” The Captain yelled after the rushing royal, not having much time to see if she heard him before the other Kurlatra, eager to leave, demanded his attention. “Yeah, yeah, hold on,” he chuckled and faced a lesser duke’s daughter.
While Eivaley was not the most athletic of the brood she was born from, she had put a decent effort into keeping herself fit. And the struggle she had been doing over the last month to keep up with Conor was paying dividends.
Granted, she knew her abysmal abilities were nothing compared to him, nor were they anything against the unaugmented Kurlatra hull busters, who were more than happy to teach her the basics and encourage her on runs up to a few kilometers.
She skidded around the bottom of the gangway, the landing pad’s hardpack duracrete. Thankfully, the tough ground was similar to the training rooms on the ship, so it did not bother her feet, nor did she slip.
Her heart pounded like a speeding drum, keeping up with her increasing breath. Dozens, if not hundreds, of the local Kurlatra stared at her in confusion and worry. They likely wondered why a red-scaled was running at all.
Unless it was a Champion or someone going through military training, you should never see a ruby-scaled running—much less a female rushing anywhere. But once they realized it was the fifth princess, known for her eccentricity among the royals, they let her pass and returned to what they were doing, chuckling about the odd sight.
As she passed the last of the gargantuan ships parked in neat rows on the landing strips, her target came into view. Her father stood proudly in his golden power armor, directing dozens of troops around as they took supplies into a waiting caravan of heavy blacked-out SUVs.
It took her a moment to spot her Human, but as her father glanced behind himself and spoke to someone out of sight, Conor came out from behind one of the vehicles, wiping sweat off his brow.
Conor was the type of man any Kurltatra woman would pine at, even while in armor and wearing simple battle fatigues; with how he was dressed now, Eivelay knew she would have to fend them off with a stick, at least. It might take her using Conor’s gun if he even so much as tried to flirt with any of them, her sisters especially.
Conor was wearing a simple set of grey trousers that were cut off just above his knee. They likely were some of the soldiers’ old uniforms that he had cut to fit his larger legs. The thing that had Eivaley nearly drooling was his top.
Like Kurlatra, he wore a simple cloth top hanging off one side of his broad shoulders. Its flowing build let her see every fiber of Conor’s bulging muscles, defined abs, Adonis belt and his metallic arm twinkle.
As she neared, Conor spotted her. He quickly told her father, who looked at her, chuckled momentarily, and then told him to go to her. The only reason she knew that was what was said was that Conor started to jog lightly toward her.
That spurred her to push her already burning lungs further. Sure, she had not dashed to this point. But for her, hitting the solid seven-minute-a-kilometer pace she had was an achievement.
Conor slowed once he was within a few meters of Eivaley, likely expecting her to slow down as well. Instead, she leaped at him, forcing her whole weight into him. If Conor was the average man and did not have millions of credits worth of augments, he would have undoubtedly collapsed under the force.
Instead, the Human wrapped his arms around her waist and halfway spun to keep Eivaley from feeling the entire brunt of the force, allowing her to cling to his neck.
“I was so worried about you,” Eivaley wined, finally being able to speak to the man she had fretted over for the last month. “Are you alright? Did Daddy or the doctors cause you any trouble? Did you miss me?”
“They helped me get settled, and the doctor even managed to make more of the medicine I need,” Conor said calmly, setting Eivaley down.
“That’s wonderful,” Eivaley nuzzled into Conor’s chest, taking in the comforting smell of oil and gunsmoke rolling off him. To her joy, he placed his hand on the back of her head and ran his thumb along the last few of her short horns that end at her mid-neck, sending a soft pleasure through her spine.
“I’m glad you are alright,” Conor admitted, having not even told that to Vuraley over the last month. Conor had simply been taking it on the chin and acting like this was a contract, taking payment, and setting up everything for his new gig as her personal bodyguard. But even he had to admit he had taken a little bit of a shine to Eivaley.
How much he was willing to give up following this shining ruby had yet to be seen, which is why he was her assigned Champion. He now had time to decide what he would do, save money, and act accordingly.
Eivaley looked up at him with adoration and lightly squealed. The simple admittance he missed her made every fiber of her heart scream in joy.
The two stood there, lost in each other’s eyes. For those few moments, there was nothing else in the universe to the duo. The only thing that mattered was the person they were looking at and the comfort of knowing they were alive and well.
