Meant to Be 6 & 7
Apr. 16th, 2007 06:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrFor Nikery. I'd wanted to write her Ken & Nev's story, but of late me and dragons are not so much with the getting along *sigh*
Tgys assures me I did not botch these chapters, but I ever have my doubts.
I am sorry I do not have dragons, Nikery. I luffs your story and when I get home I will properly squee at you <<333
Chapter Six
Planet 00000000 (Zero), The Palace of Eternity
“I know you must be tired of this question, Val – but you remember what you must do? I cannot emphasize enough the importance.”
Val smiled. Ordinarily he would be annoyed; he wasn’t stupid, and from the moment they’d begun to build a true case against destroying the Draconis he’d been given stern advice, strict reminders. However, he was still quite happily floating on the fact that he was one of Bikendi’s assistants. He nodded at Tresnor. “Yes, sir. I remember.”
Tresnor returned the smile and took a lazy pull of his cigar. “You’re a splendid young man, Val, truly you are.” He winked. “I think I might have been spared many a night of worrying if my sons had behaved as nicely as you.”
“Yes,” said a deep, nasally voice from behind them as the door chimed open. “Behaving and your sons do not go hand in hand, Daie.”
It was early afternoon, and the group had gathered in one the sitting rooms in a private sitting in one of the business wings of the Palace of Eternity. Ordinarily this room would look out over the grand hall of the palace and its famous glass floor. For now, though, heavy drapes had been drawn across the glass wall.
The room was decorated in black and silver, small shocks of gold here and there. It was large, and a long, low table made entirely of glass separated the two clusters of couches and seats.
By the farthest wall, at a large table, Bikendi and Mendel were lost to their notes and theories. Val wanted badly to join them, but…outside of the lab, he was not sure of his place. Bikendi seemed to want nothing to do with him.
Val shunted his confusion aside and focused on the newcomers.
The one in front, who’d spoken, was a red-skinned human. Val normally wouldn’t recognize him, but they’d long ago learned this would be the lawyer heading the argument in support of annihilating the Draconis.
He was…too severe and cold looking to be considered handsome. There was a…something about him Val didn’t like. What, though, he couldn’t place. He was glad the table would be between them, however.
Val sat with Tresnor and Jundel on a long wrap-around couch, tucked into the corner while they sat to his right – facing the door. Tresnor regarded the newcomer with a coolness he’d never seen from the Lord of Bangkok, taking a long, slow pull of his dark blue cigar. “Cathartes,” he said calmly. “I see your manners are still lacking.”
Cathartes was just as chilly as he sat down, three other people with him – none of whom Val recognized, though he recognized one as a Kreskan, one as…one of the cat races, he didn’t know them all well…and the last a first quad human, with all the hallmarks of a scientist who would rather be in her lab. “How did they drag you off that moon of yours, Tresnor? I admit I was shocked to learn you were my ‘rival’ in this.”
Tresnor relaxed in his seat, one arm draping along the back of the couch, just behind Jundel’s shoulders. Looking between the groups, Val felt miserably that things were going on which he was missing – or there would be shortly. He focused on calculations, the work they’d done that morning the lab, what he had to say and do until the Trial actually began and the argument they were so carefully building finally was laid out. “Rival implies we’re equals, Cathartes, and I do not believe we are.”
Val could see the fury that rippled through Cathartes’s body. He was rather stunned himself at the bold words – they would seem arrogant, obnoxious…but he sensed they were true. Tresnor was the Lord of Bangkok, and that made him above nearly everyone in matters of wealth and power…and even Val knew the stories of all the cases Tresnor had fought and won over the years.
Beyond that, he was here simply at the request of the High Chancellor. Did this not to save the Draconis, so much as a personal favor for Pyotr Kavalerov. He trumped everyone in the room.
Cathartes seemed to grow harder and colder before Val’s eyes. “You’re awfully bold for a man who has been long retired, to leave the running of his fortune and fame to his scandalous, flashy sons. I’m surprised they’ve not destroyed your precious little hovel, Tresnor.”
Tresnor’s eyes took on a hard glitter. “Do not insult my sons.”
“I’m not insulting them,” Cathartes retorted, a bit of malicious satisfaction in his voice.
Were all lawyers like these two? Val felt dizzy watching them. It was like watching the lizards back home fight each other, feinting dozens of strikes before suddenly rushing in for a gruesome kill. Every Draconis alive was grateful that aspect of the colorful lizards had not presented itself in the genetically-engineered race…though when Mendel had killed his father, many had wondered.
Cathartes continued speaking. “I am merely stating facts. They cause more scandal than all the rest of Bangkok. I’m amazed you’re willing to show your face, Tresnor. I can’t think a lawyer who permits his sons to behave in such sick fashion would be ideal for this delicate situation.”
Tresnor took another pull of his cigar, long and slow, as though they were discussing the weather. When he finally spoke, his voice was as mellow as his motions – but beneath it was an undertone that made Val shiver. “I fail to see what my sons have to do with this discussion, other than your blatant and shoddy attempt to anger me. My sons are adults, they are free to do as they please. They are better than I at running Bangkok, perhaps because they genuinely enjoy it. If you are referring to the intimate nature of their relationship,” Tresnor stared at Cathartes until the other man dropped his gaze, “It is hardly illegal under the strictures of the IG, and none of your business besides. This is your first warning, and you only get three – do not malign my sons.”
Jundel stirred from where she’d been sitting quietly until then, and Val noticed for the first time that Bikendi and Mendel had joined them. “We are here to discuss how matters are to proceed in the face of the High Chancellor’s absence. Of course we must go before the council…”
Before she could say more, the door once more chimed open, this time to admit the Grand Chancellor. “I see you’re all here, or all of you that matter, anyway. There is still no indication of where the High Chancellor may be. We will proceed without him for now.” He took a seat at the far end of the long table, situated exactly between the two teams. “The first hearing will be the day after tomorrow. Are both teams prepared?”
“Yes,” Cathartes said.
Tresnor nodded. “We are prepared.”
“Good,” Arkadii replied. “I hope you do not require this reminder, but I will give it anyway. We are discussing the annihilation of an entire race. Only twice in the history of the IG has such a thing been done – the Kreskan demons and the Temperast. The entirety of the IG will be following this debate. We are keeping Zero at the highest levels of security until this matter is resolved. Every major official in the IG – Chancellors, Councilors, will serve as judges. Thousands of individuals have been cleared to be present during the debates. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you remain professional at all times. One slip and I will not hesitate to send all guilty parties to the nearest Rehab to cool down. The slightest mistake could cost your argument, and I hope we all appreciate what a vital debate this is.”
Val nodded, hugging himself. Hearstone’s Law…
Code 19
Any race deemed beyond all shadow of reasonable doubt to be a threat to all other races, with no discernible purpose for their existence, or if said race is found to have been artificially created with no apparent purpose and no place in the natural order discovered, is to be annihilated.
Also known as Hearstone’s Law.
It was not employed lightly; as powerful as the IG was, it did not like to presume the right to destroy an entire race. It did so only when it was obvious there was no other recourse.
With the Temperast, it had been easy. With the first case, that which had given the law the name Heartstone…it had been necessary, but harder. Even now some wondered if there might have been a different way.
If they lost, he wondered if anyone would ever feel that way about the Draconis.
Even the Coni by and large considered them little more than energy supplies with rather more personality than they’d intended. Very few Coni were as open-minded as Jundel’s match, who had come to Zero with her simply so she could attempt to win her case.
A race engineered to enhance the magics of the individual with whom they bonded, the bulk of their design taken from a small lizard known for its hardiness, it’s unusually strong magics. Blended with all manner of other creatures from a host of planets – even now Bikendi was still working to sort out what precisely made up the Draconis…as the creators, realizing what precisely they’d done, had destroyed nearly everything to save themselves.
No one knew what was in the Draconis that would explain the way their colors had exploded far beyond the range of the Coni lizards, why they matched with magics capable beings who had never so much as been near Coni. Magics which it should be impossible for Draconis to have.
Mendel made sense. He was actually half-human, and had matched with a magic-capable human. Strange, but there was some explanation there, if only the barest thread.
But how to explain a Draconis which matched with a Fornarian, a race notorious for its xenophobic nature. Yet there was a Fornarian matched to a Draconis.
There was also a Draconis matched with an Avarri, according to the reports. Val assumed they would be present for the hearing, though all he’d got when he asked was a lot of rolled eyes and fervent shaking of heads.
However, not even the strange match of lizard and bird could compare to his matching Bikendi – by all rights Bikendi should not even exist, the child of a race feared by the entirety of the stars and one nearly as pacifistic as the Kreskans. That Val had matched with him…
It was little wonder they wanted to keep that fact a secret to drop on the jerks who wanted to wipe out his race.
Because they would wipe it out.
Should the verdict be to destroy the Draconis…such a decision meant people felt Draconis were a threat. Their danger decided, they would all be killed. Not simply rendered sterile and left to die…they would, like the Temperast, be rounded up and killed.
Val tried to see it, sometimes, why so many considered them a threat.
Matching increased the powers of magics exponentially - and in races like the Fornarians, the body somehow adjusted to the increased magics. It shouldn’t be possible, Fornarians were built too sparingly to have and use magics stronger than those with which they were born. Yet it had been managed.
It was equally frightening the power an Avarri could have with increased magics – the reports on his telekinesis post match were staggering. As of yet, no Draconis had matched with anyone possessing telepathic magics…that the IG was aware, anyway. But the dangers of such powerful magics…
Yes, the Draconis could be dangerous. If a Draconis matched with a threat…
But of course separating a Draconis from his match would solve that problem. Once bonded, a Draconis and his match could not be separated by too great a distance – not more than a few miles at most – without their magics simply ceasing to function. They were literally reliant upon each other from the very second they matched.
Which brought up the other reason many wanted to wipe the Draconis out – pity.
How awful it must be to live as slaves, knowing you have no control over your match, that you must do as your match said, go where he goes.
Batteries with far too much awareness.
They’d be better off dead.
At his worst and most scared, Val hated those ones more than those who feared the Draconis. At least fear he could understand – all his life he’d been scared of who he would match with, if he’d ever match at all.
Now he was scared that in a few months he might very well be executed because the Coni had wanted stronger magics and screwed up getting them.
Yes, he could see fear making people do things like order the annihilation of a race…but not pity. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want to be killed because someone felt sorry for him.
He looked up as the conversation filtered back into his awareness, just in time to realize the conversation had been directed his way.
“So is this your prize exhibit, Daie? A mere child?” Cathartes stared at Val. “Are you matched, boy?”
Val swallowed. This was what they’d been drilling into his head ever since he’d matched – even before that, on the off chance he matched before the case went to trial, because no one had ever doubted that he would match with something strange if he was not a magics-less mutant after all.
The one thing no one had asked him was how well could he lie.
He couldn’t. It wasn’t something he’d ever been good at. As a child he’d never been included in the things other children did when they weren’t supposed to be doing it, because he’d give it away – not on purpose though! – every single time.
Still, he’d learned that if he couldn’t lie – he could do other things. He smiled, thinking only of all the things he loved – science, his research, the way he was helping Bikendi. On his lap, his datapad thrummed softly, warm through his clothing. “Most say I’m matched to my datapad. I just downloaded six new articles to read tonight, and I’m still arguing with some friends on the weather research going on in Danueb. Getting anything out of a Danueb is hard work – the only thing harder is getting anything out of a hellcat, right?”
There was snickering all around him, even Cathartes’s people looked torn between amusement and disgust at his boyish behavior.
“Not quite,” Tresnor said with a wink. “The actual phrase goes that it’s hard to get anything but sex out of a hellcat.”
Val flushed and made a soft ‘oh’ sound before dropping his gaze to his datapad. He’d never heard that phrase, and as everyone laughed softly around him, he really wished he’d just kept his mouth shut.
“A fine team you’ve got, Daie. If I’d actually been worried, this little meeting would have calmed my fears. A convicted killer, an angry recluse, a mouthy woman, and a child. My, you have come out of retirement in full splender.”
Tresnor merely laughed. “I will see you at the trial.”
“Yes,” Cathartes replied, and stood. A moment later he and his group were gone.
“Oh, well done, Val!” Jundel said warmly, leaning over Tresnor to pat his knee. “Honestly, they hold us completely in contempt now. They did not even notice you dodged the question.”
“Ah—“ Val shrugged. “I’m glad it worked?”
Tresnor chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, then rose. “A fine performance, my boy. And when I present you and Bikendi – I cannot wait to see their faces. Even with Kavalerov absent, I think we may be able to make his argument. Yes, I have a very good feeling about all this.” He winked. “I think you must be our good luck charm.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to believe in luck,” Mendel said.
“Trust me, in my line of work – luck is everything. It has saved me far more often than logic and talent.” He held his arm out to Jundel. “We are off to lunch. Feel free to join us – though I can see you’re all dying to get back to your laboratories.” Tresnor looked at Val, then slid his sharp eyes to Bikendi. “How is your new assistance working out?”
Bikendi grunted. “Most satisfactory, and that is all you’re getting out of me, you nosy lawyer.”
Laughing, Tresnor escorted Jundel from the room.
Val was barely able to keep himself sitting calmly and quietly on the couch. ‘Most satisfactory’ Bikendi had called him. Was it true? He looked up at Bikendi. “I finished transcribing all your notes. Had you anything further?”
“Yes,” Bikendi said in his curt way. “You would prove more useful if you attended to our discussions out of the lab. If you do not, you’re hardly learning more than half of what we do, and an assistant with only half the requisite knowledge is hardly useful.”
“Yes, sir,” Val said, unable to help smiling brightly – and all but bursting when Bikendi stared at him a moment longer than usual, the tight lines of his severe face easing the slightest bit, eyes lightening…for a second he’d almost thought Bikendi would smile back, and even the way Bikendi turned sharply away to stalk from the room could not dim his excitement. Not waiting to see what Mendel would do, or even bidding the other Draconis farewell, he ran after his match.
Chapter Seven
Unknown Planet, Unknown Location
“It wasn’t my fault.”
Yevi rolled his eyes. “I’m not even dignifying that with an answer. Can’t you go one day without causing trouble?”
Raoul snorted. “What would be the fun in that?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“So I’ve oft been told,” Raoul replied lightly, but forcing the cheerfulness was getting more and more difficult. He was tired, damn it. Babysitting a bunch of fucking flowers was proving to be just as difficult as babysitting a troublemaking High Chancellor. If not more so, because at least the High Chancellor wasn’t fond of kicking him whenever he got a little too mouthy. “Would you stop making it hurt more?”
Yevi yanked hard on the bandages and gave him another glare. “How the hell are you still alive?”
“Calculate those variables you mentioned back when I was still in that shed and no doubt you’ll find your answer.”
“Should have left your ass there,” Yevi groused as he finished bandaging Raoul’s arm. “What were you doing anyway? Besides interrupting me? No one else gets injured this easy doing manual labor.”
Raoul snorted. “Try telling Corin to stop fucking kicking me—“
“Stop mouthing off,” Yevi cut in. “That usually helps kids make friends while they’re out playing. It also means the boss is less likely to get pissed and knock your head off.”
“No one finds me funny,” Raoul groused.
Yevi rolled his eyes and stood up to start putting away the medical supplies. “I feel sorry for whoever warms your bed on your off days.”
Raoul grinned. “That position is currently open, if you’re interested.”
“Thanks, but no,” Yevi said, rolling his eyes again. “Mother of the Land, being back home wouldn’t prove less aggravating as you.”
Well, that didn’t make much sense. The only thing about which Vrill were vainer than their looks was their homeland. Everyone there was still annoyed and confused that the Crown Prince had abstained from the throne – rumors abounded that he’d run off with a pirate lover.
Pyotr always smirked when he heard that story. Raoul had learned not to ask when he saw that expression.
So why on earth would a Vrill not want to go home? They only left home to somehow improve either themselves or their homeland – though how exactly a race which considered itself perfect could improve, Raoul had always wondered.
Even he, however, wasn’t quite dumb enough to ask a Vrill that. No, no. He liked all his appendages right where they were. “So what are you up to, beautiful?”
“What does it look like?” Yevi snapped, absently shoving back a loose strand of hair as he worked. “Lots and lots of soul to process.”
It was Raoul’s turn to roll his eyes and instead of getting up, merely stretched out on the couch where Yevi had shoved him when he’d come in bleeding.
Honestly, it wasn’t his fault someone had left a broken bit of cutter in the field, and if Corin hadn’t fucking kicked him – oh, Raoul was going to enjoy arresting that bastard. He was going to go positively Rehab on the bastard when this was over.
If this was his attitude after only a few days, he did not want to know what he’d be like when it was all over.
Grimacing, Raoul shifted his thoughts. “I don’t suppose there’s any alcohol to be had around here?”
“Not for you,” Yevi replied tartly. “Bad boys do not get treats.”
Raoul grinned. “What sort of treats do I get if I’m a good boy, pretty boy?”
“Not those kind,” Yevi retorted. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m actually working.”
“Oh?” Raoul asked, just to see him get mad. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Yevi ignored him.
Raoul sighed and closed his eyes, grateful for the cool of the cabin they were in. A simple thing, all efficiency and little comfort. There was a small bed in one corner, tidily made with a thin green blanket and faded white sheets. It didn’t look especially sturdy, but then again neither did he. The floor was old wood, creaky and faded and sagging a bit in places – but clean, swept and scrubbed. The couch on which he reclined and Yevi’s workstation were just as sparkling clean.
And there was a small plant growing in the single window, looking better than the entire fucking field Raoul had been fighting with all day to harvest the damned flowers.
Vrills. Even the snarliest of the lot still cooed over plants. Raoul finally settled his gaze on the snarly Vrill in question, more than happy to let it linger there. If he was going to be stuck here for only the stars knew how long, he could have done much, much worse in the way of allies.
Now, the only question was – how to get the snarly, pretty Vrill where he wanted him? Yevi was the reason he was stuck on this rock indefinitely, so damn it Raoul was going to get something, even if it only wound up being a fist to his jaw. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”
“Contemplating murder,” Yevi said, mashing a few more keys before swinging around in his chair and folding his arms across his chest, glaring at Raoul. “You’re all better. Get back to work.”
“I’m still feeling…woozy.”
Yevi gave him a Look and finally stood, stalking back over to him. “Get up or I’m going to call Corin in here to kick you.”
Raoul pouted. “Now that’s not very nice.”
“So you’re what, Half Fornarian and half whiney bitch?”
“At least I’m not a walking, talking plant,” Raoul replied.
Yevi narrowed his eyes and moved closer, obviously intent upon violence.
Raoul didn’t give him a chance, snaking an arm out and grabbing Yevi’s slender wrist, yanking the man down on top of him, pinning him down with one arm and getting another grope of that fine ass he’d been watching since they’d left the shed.
“Let me go,” Yevi hissed, but his strength wasn’t quite up to Raoul’s. “You rock-headed lug.”
Grinning, shamelessly taking another grope of that ass, Raoul smothered the curses still being hurtled at him with a kiss, not surprised to find his snarling Vrill tasted like clear water and fresh green things, a little bit sweet.
He swore as blood entered the picture, and pulled back with a grin, licking the blood from his lips. “You should lighten up.”
“You should not take such liberties without permission,” Yevi snapped.
Raoul lifted a brow and let him go. “Take such liberties? Who the hell actually says that sort of thing? And you were flirting back.”
“That no excuse!” Yevi made certain to dig in his elbows as he pushed off of Raoul and stood back up. A few more strands of hair had slipped free of the myriad braids – today the deep green was interspersed with dark red ribbons, an interesting contrast. Raoul thought he preferred the yellow.
Only a Vrill would manage to look so pretty when he was up to his neck in soul harvesting for a Top Ops assignment.
“I always forget Vrill are so tetchy,” Raoul said, sighing and sitting up. “I meant no harm.”
Yevi grunted. “Get back out there before Corin comes looking for you. I prefer to have him in here as little as possible.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Raoul said, heaving a long sigh. “I will never again complain of life being boring. I’d forgotten how much I hate this sort of manual labor.”
He thought he’d left it well and truly behind. Nothing was worse than hard labor that accomplished nothing, that left you dead and drained with nothing to warm but the thought of doing it all over the next day.
Not that he’d have lacked for company if he’d wanted it…but it was no fun to invite someone in when they just assumed it was what you’d do. He wasn’t his mother, thanks and good night.
“How did you get into your line of work?” Yevi asked as he reached the door. “You seem more the Bangkok type, less the Zero type.”
Raoul stiffened, ice lancing down his spine. No matter where he went… “Yes, I suppose I do. Just like plants belong buried in the ground!” He stormed out and stalked back to the field, ignoring Corin’s sharp barking.
No matter where he went…
He knew he was overreacting. There was no reason to get mad about one stupid comment after his own little stunt. He always overreacted. Damn it, just because—
Snarling, Raoul bent back to work, scooping up his equipment from where he’d dropped it upon slicing his arm. His arm protested as he put it to work, and Raoul wished briefly that he’d cadged some pain killers out of Yevi before he’d stormed off in a snit. Ah, well. That would teach him to get into snits.
Ha.
Angrily Raoul went from flower to flower, carefully slicing open the seed pods and catching the thick, clear liquid that spilled out. Aggravating, meticulous, hard labor. His back was going to hate him by the end of this sour adventure.
And just because he was feeling whiney, he wanted his stunners back too!
Raoul sighed and attempted to focus on nothing but his task – but he had long ago trained himself too well to pay attention to everything around him.
The workers were all quiet, but tense – they didn’t like him, as he’d cost them two workers, even if it had been their own fault for playing with strange stunners. Any idiot should have been able to see there were at least two safeties to each one, and where there was two there could easily be three.
Morons.
Raoul stopped short when he realized he’d started humming, and grimaced. He hadn’t done that in years and didn’t like he was picking it back up. Humming was too much reminder of washing dishes, putting up with people who had all the money in the stars but hadn’t used it to buy manners.
Going home to clean up, then back out to yet another hellhole to do more thankless grunt work.
He didn’t belong in Bangkok. The only way he’d ever go near the place was to protect Pyotr. He’d done his part making Bangkok sparkle, and he wasn’t doing it anymore.
Drat it, somehow this was Yevi’s fault too. The whole damn mess could be Yevi’s fault so far as he was concerned. Stupid Vrill.
Raoul sighed and sat down in the field, carefully setting aside his gear. His arm had started bleeding again, which of course he deserved for being so brutal with it – but he really didn’t feel like going back to Yevi to get fresh bandages.
He sensed and heard someone approach, and was standing again before Corin could get another kick in. Letting the man kick him around was aggravating – but striking back would get him killed, and he didn’t feel like being dead after escaping that fate twice.
Except it wasn’t Corin – it was Yevi.
“What?” Raoul asked, trying not to sound exactly as he did sound – tense and snippy and peevish. But damn it – he didn’t belong in Bangkok.
Yevi gave him a look that made Raoul feel like a kid about to be grounded. “You’re bleeding. I just fixed that.”
Yep, grounded kid.
“I’m impressed you noticed my bleeding arm from your cabin, beautiful,” Raoul replied. “I’ll take care of it later. Get back to your processing.”
Yevi rolled his eyes. “Oh, you are –“ snarling epithets that were too low for Raoul to catch, he grabbed him by the good arm and dragged him back to the cabin.
“Hey, Yevi!” Corin snarled, stalking toward them. “I have work that needs to get done.”
“Half these plants are ready, he’s nearly picked the other half himself while the others were off sampling it, and we’re a full two days ahead of schedule so you can kiss my ass Corin. Next time you want work done to your satisfaction – tell your men that stunners aren’t toys. He’s injured, I’m fixing him up and he’ll get back to work when I say so or you bother to bring in a real medic.” Snarling, Yevi turned away, dragging Raoul with him.
Raoul frowned. “Now how come you can yell and smart off and not get kicked and I can’t?”
“Because finding another processor as good as me would be nigh on impossible unless he wanted to pay more.” He shoved Raoul back onto the couch, then strode to his desk and mashed a few keys. “How does an obnoxious brat like you become the bodyguard of the High Chancellor?”
“The same way the High Chancellor acquires all his pets.”
“His precious IA, you mean?” Yevi asked.
“Yes,” Raoul replied. “I fixed a problem, Pyotr kidnapped me afterwards, I got revenge by asserting myself as his new bodyguard.”
Yevi rolled his eyes as he set down the medical kit, then sat next to Raoul on the couch. “Figures.”
“So how does a Vrill become Top Ops?” He reached out to tweak one of the delicate braids, letting his fingers trail briefly along a sharp cheekbone.
“He has nowhere else to go,” Yevi said sharply. “Why are you so tetchy about Bangkok?”
Raoul grimaced, both from memories and the rough way Yevi unwrapped his arm and cleaned the three inch slice in his forearm. “Not fond of the place.” He made a face. “I’m sorry I stormed out.”
Yevi looked up, surprised, then dropped his head again. “Forget about it.”
“So when are you hoping to finally nail whoever’s in charge of all this?”
“I don’t know,” Yevi said tiredly. “He’s meticulous about keeping a distance, and I swear sometimes he must have a gremlin designing his security systems. I can never trace his communications to any source, and I hesitate to push for fear of being discovered myself. As precious few know I’m here, no one is likely to notice I’m missing, and I’d much rather not wind up fertilizer for soul.”
“It would be a waste of pretty plant life, that’s for sure,” Raoul said with a grin. “So now that you’re stuck with me for a bit, doctor flower, why not fill me in on everything? The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”
Yevi stamped hard on his foot and glared. “My name is Yevi.”
“Yes, beautiful.”
Snarling, Yevi tied the new bandages off with a vengeance, then dug out a medicine tab and all but threw it at him. “You are obnoxious.”
Raoul grinned. “So talk.”
Heaving a sigh, Yevi nodded and began to quickly but efficiently explain all that he’d learned while being undercover.
Tgys assures me I did not botch these chapters, but I ever have my doubts.
I am sorry I do not have dragons, Nikery. I luffs your story and when I get home I will properly squee at you <<333
Chapter Six
Planet 00000000 (Zero), The Palace of Eternity
“I know you must be tired of this question, Val – but you remember what you must do? I cannot emphasize enough the importance.”
Val smiled. Ordinarily he would be annoyed; he wasn’t stupid, and from the moment they’d begun to build a true case against destroying the Draconis he’d been given stern advice, strict reminders. However, he was still quite happily floating on the fact that he was one of Bikendi’s assistants. He nodded at Tresnor. “Yes, sir. I remember.”
Tresnor returned the smile and took a lazy pull of his cigar. “You’re a splendid young man, Val, truly you are.” He winked. “I think I might have been spared many a night of worrying if my sons had behaved as nicely as you.”
“Yes,” said a deep, nasally voice from behind them as the door chimed open. “Behaving and your sons do not go hand in hand, Daie.”
It was early afternoon, and the group had gathered in one the sitting rooms in a private sitting in one of the business wings of the Palace of Eternity. Ordinarily this room would look out over the grand hall of the palace and its famous glass floor. For now, though, heavy drapes had been drawn across the glass wall.
The room was decorated in black and silver, small shocks of gold here and there. It was large, and a long, low table made entirely of glass separated the two clusters of couches and seats.
By the farthest wall, at a large table, Bikendi and Mendel were lost to their notes and theories. Val wanted badly to join them, but…outside of the lab, he was not sure of his place. Bikendi seemed to want nothing to do with him.
Val shunted his confusion aside and focused on the newcomers.
The one in front, who’d spoken, was a red-skinned human. Val normally wouldn’t recognize him, but they’d long ago learned this would be the lawyer heading the argument in support of annihilating the Draconis.
He was…too severe and cold looking to be considered handsome. There was a…something about him Val didn’t like. What, though, he couldn’t place. He was glad the table would be between them, however.
Val sat with Tresnor and Jundel on a long wrap-around couch, tucked into the corner while they sat to his right – facing the door. Tresnor regarded the newcomer with a coolness he’d never seen from the Lord of Bangkok, taking a long, slow pull of his dark blue cigar. “Cathartes,” he said calmly. “I see your manners are still lacking.”
Cathartes was just as chilly as he sat down, three other people with him – none of whom Val recognized, though he recognized one as a Kreskan, one as…one of the cat races, he didn’t know them all well…and the last a first quad human, with all the hallmarks of a scientist who would rather be in her lab. “How did they drag you off that moon of yours, Tresnor? I admit I was shocked to learn you were my ‘rival’ in this.”
Tresnor relaxed in his seat, one arm draping along the back of the couch, just behind Jundel’s shoulders. Looking between the groups, Val felt miserably that things were going on which he was missing – or there would be shortly. He focused on calculations, the work they’d done that morning the lab, what he had to say and do until the Trial actually began and the argument they were so carefully building finally was laid out. “Rival implies we’re equals, Cathartes, and I do not believe we are.”
Val could see the fury that rippled through Cathartes’s body. He was rather stunned himself at the bold words – they would seem arrogant, obnoxious…but he sensed they were true. Tresnor was the Lord of Bangkok, and that made him above nearly everyone in matters of wealth and power…and even Val knew the stories of all the cases Tresnor had fought and won over the years.
Beyond that, he was here simply at the request of the High Chancellor. Did this not to save the Draconis, so much as a personal favor for Pyotr Kavalerov. He trumped everyone in the room.
Cathartes seemed to grow harder and colder before Val’s eyes. “You’re awfully bold for a man who has been long retired, to leave the running of his fortune and fame to his scandalous, flashy sons. I’m surprised they’ve not destroyed your precious little hovel, Tresnor.”
Tresnor’s eyes took on a hard glitter. “Do not insult my sons.”
“I’m not insulting them,” Cathartes retorted, a bit of malicious satisfaction in his voice.
Were all lawyers like these two? Val felt dizzy watching them. It was like watching the lizards back home fight each other, feinting dozens of strikes before suddenly rushing in for a gruesome kill. Every Draconis alive was grateful that aspect of the colorful lizards had not presented itself in the genetically-engineered race…though when Mendel had killed his father, many had wondered.
Cathartes continued speaking. “I am merely stating facts. They cause more scandal than all the rest of Bangkok. I’m amazed you’re willing to show your face, Tresnor. I can’t think a lawyer who permits his sons to behave in such sick fashion would be ideal for this delicate situation.”
Tresnor took another pull of his cigar, long and slow, as though they were discussing the weather. When he finally spoke, his voice was as mellow as his motions – but beneath it was an undertone that made Val shiver. “I fail to see what my sons have to do with this discussion, other than your blatant and shoddy attempt to anger me. My sons are adults, they are free to do as they please. They are better than I at running Bangkok, perhaps because they genuinely enjoy it. If you are referring to the intimate nature of their relationship,” Tresnor stared at Cathartes until the other man dropped his gaze, “It is hardly illegal under the strictures of the IG, and none of your business besides. This is your first warning, and you only get three – do not malign my sons.”
Jundel stirred from where she’d been sitting quietly until then, and Val noticed for the first time that Bikendi and Mendel had joined them. “We are here to discuss how matters are to proceed in the face of the High Chancellor’s absence. Of course we must go before the council…”
Before she could say more, the door once more chimed open, this time to admit the Grand Chancellor. “I see you’re all here, or all of you that matter, anyway. There is still no indication of where the High Chancellor may be. We will proceed without him for now.” He took a seat at the far end of the long table, situated exactly between the two teams. “The first hearing will be the day after tomorrow. Are both teams prepared?”
“Yes,” Cathartes said.
Tresnor nodded. “We are prepared.”
“Good,” Arkadii replied. “I hope you do not require this reminder, but I will give it anyway. We are discussing the annihilation of an entire race. Only twice in the history of the IG has such a thing been done – the Kreskan demons and the Temperast. The entirety of the IG will be following this debate. We are keeping Zero at the highest levels of security until this matter is resolved. Every major official in the IG – Chancellors, Councilors, will serve as judges. Thousands of individuals have been cleared to be present during the debates. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you remain professional at all times. One slip and I will not hesitate to send all guilty parties to the nearest Rehab to cool down. The slightest mistake could cost your argument, and I hope we all appreciate what a vital debate this is.”
Val nodded, hugging himself. Hearstone’s Law…
Code 19
Any race deemed beyond all shadow of reasonable doubt to be a threat to all other races, with no discernible purpose for their existence, or if said race is found to have been artificially created with no apparent purpose and no place in the natural order discovered, is to be annihilated.
Also known as Hearstone’s Law.
It was not employed lightly; as powerful as the IG was, it did not like to presume the right to destroy an entire race. It did so only when it was obvious there was no other recourse.
With the Temperast, it had been easy. With the first case, that which had given the law the name Heartstone…it had been necessary, but harder. Even now some wondered if there might have been a different way.
If they lost, he wondered if anyone would ever feel that way about the Draconis.
Even the Coni by and large considered them little more than energy supplies with rather more personality than they’d intended. Very few Coni were as open-minded as Jundel’s match, who had come to Zero with her simply so she could attempt to win her case.
A race engineered to enhance the magics of the individual with whom they bonded, the bulk of their design taken from a small lizard known for its hardiness, it’s unusually strong magics. Blended with all manner of other creatures from a host of planets – even now Bikendi was still working to sort out what precisely made up the Draconis…as the creators, realizing what precisely they’d done, had destroyed nearly everything to save themselves.
No one knew what was in the Draconis that would explain the way their colors had exploded far beyond the range of the Coni lizards, why they matched with magics capable beings who had never so much as been near Coni. Magics which it should be impossible for Draconis to have.
Mendel made sense. He was actually half-human, and had matched with a magic-capable human. Strange, but there was some explanation there, if only the barest thread.
But how to explain a Draconis which matched with a Fornarian, a race notorious for its xenophobic nature. Yet there was a Fornarian matched to a Draconis.
There was also a Draconis matched with an Avarri, according to the reports. Val assumed they would be present for the hearing, though all he’d got when he asked was a lot of rolled eyes and fervent shaking of heads.
However, not even the strange match of lizard and bird could compare to his matching Bikendi – by all rights Bikendi should not even exist, the child of a race feared by the entirety of the stars and one nearly as pacifistic as the Kreskans. That Val had matched with him…
It was little wonder they wanted to keep that fact a secret to drop on the jerks who wanted to wipe out his race.
Because they would wipe it out.
Should the verdict be to destroy the Draconis…such a decision meant people felt Draconis were a threat. Their danger decided, they would all be killed. Not simply rendered sterile and left to die…they would, like the Temperast, be rounded up and killed.
Val tried to see it, sometimes, why so many considered them a threat.
Matching increased the powers of magics exponentially - and in races like the Fornarians, the body somehow adjusted to the increased magics. It shouldn’t be possible, Fornarians were built too sparingly to have and use magics stronger than those with which they were born. Yet it had been managed.
It was equally frightening the power an Avarri could have with increased magics – the reports on his telekinesis post match were staggering. As of yet, no Draconis had matched with anyone possessing telepathic magics…that the IG was aware, anyway. But the dangers of such powerful magics…
Yes, the Draconis could be dangerous. If a Draconis matched with a threat…
But of course separating a Draconis from his match would solve that problem. Once bonded, a Draconis and his match could not be separated by too great a distance – not more than a few miles at most – without their magics simply ceasing to function. They were literally reliant upon each other from the very second they matched.
Which brought up the other reason many wanted to wipe the Draconis out – pity.
How awful it must be to live as slaves, knowing you have no control over your match, that you must do as your match said, go where he goes.
Batteries with far too much awareness.
They’d be better off dead.
At his worst and most scared, Val hated those ones more than those who feared the Draconis. At least fear he could understand – all his life he’d been scared of who he would match with, if he’d ever match at all.
Now he was scared that in a few months he might very well be executed because the Coni had wanted stronger magics and screwed up getting them.
Yes, he could see fear making people do things like order the annihilation of a race…but not pity. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want to be killed because someone felt sorry for him.
He looked up as the conversation filtered back into his awareness, just in time to realize the conversation had been directed his way.
“So is this your prize exhibit, Daie? A mere child?” Cathartes stared at Val. “Are you matched, boy?”
Val swallowed. This was what they’d been drilling into his head ever since he’d matched – even before that, on the off chance he matched before the case went to trial, because no one had ever doubted that he would match with something strange if he was not a magics-less mutant after all.
The one thing no one had asked him was how well could he lie.
He couldn’t. It wasn’t something he’d ever been good at. As a child he’d never been included in the things other children did when they weren’t supposed to be doing it, because he’d give it away – not on purpose though! – every single time.
Still, he’d learned that if he couldn’t lie – he could do other things. He smiled, thinking only of all the things he loved – science, his research, the way he was helping Bikendi. On his lap, his datapad thrummed softly, warm through his clothing. “Most say I’m matched to my datapad. I just downloaded six new articles to read tonight, and I’m still arguing with some friends on the weather research going on in Danueb. Getting anything out of a Danueb is hard work – the only thing harder is getting anything out of a hellcat, right?”
There was snickering all around him, even Cathartes’s people looked torn between amusement and disgust at his boyish behavior.
“Not quite,” Tresnor said with a wink. “The actual phrase goes that it’s hard to get anything but sex out of a hellcat.”
Val flushed and made a soft ‘oh’ sound before dropping his gaze to his datapad. He’d never heard that phrase, and as everyone laughed softly around him, he really wished he’d just kept his mouth shut.
“A fine team you’ve got, Daie. If I’d actually been worried, this little meeting would have calmed my fears. A convicted killer, an angry recluse, a mouthy woman, and a child. My, you have come out of retirement in full splender.”
Tresnor merely laughed. “I will see you at the trial.”
“Yes,” Cathartes replied, and stood. A moment later he and his group were gone.
“Oh, well done, Val!” Jundel said warmly, leaning over Tresnor to pat his knee. “Honestly, they hold us completely in contempt now. They did not even notice you dodged the question.”
“Ah—“ Val shrugged. “I’m glad it worked?”
Tresnor chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, then rose. “A fine performance, my boy. And when I present you and Bikendi – I cannot wait to see their faces. Even with Kavalerov absent, I think we may be able to make his argument. Yes, I have a very good feeling about all this.” He winked. “I think you must be our good luck charm.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to believe in luck,” Mendel said.
“Trust me, in my line of work – luck is everything. It has saved me far more often than logic and talent.” He held his arm out to Jundel. “We are off to lunch. Feel free to join us – though I can see you’re all dying to get back to your laboratories.” Tresnor looked at Val, then slid his sharp eyes to Bikendi. “How is your new assistance working out?”
Bikendi grunted. “Most satisfactory, and that is all you’re getting out of me, you nosy lawyer.”
Laughing, Tresnor escorted Jundel from the room.
Val was barely able to keep himself sitting calmly and quietly on the couch. ‘Most satisfactory’ Bikendi had called him. Was it true? He looked up at Bikendi. “I finished transcribing all your notes. Had you anything further?”
“Yes,” Bikendi said in his curt way. “You would prove more useful if you attended to our discussions out of the lab. If you do not, you’re hardly learning more than half of what we do, and an assistant with only half the requisite knowledge is hardly useful.”
“Yes, sir,” Val said, unable to help smiling brightly – and all but bursting when Bikendi stared at him a moment longer than usual, the tight lines of his severe face easing the slightest bit, eyes lightening…for a second he’d almost thought Bikendi would smile back, and even the way Bikendi turned sharply away to stalk from the room could not dim his excitement. Not waiting to see what Mendel would do, or even bidding the other Draconis farewell, he ran after his match.
Chapter Seven
Unknown Planet, Unknown Location
“It wasn’t my fault.”
Yevi rolled his eyes. “I’m not even dignifying that with an answer. Can’t you go one day without causing trouble?”
Raoul snorted. “What would be the fun in that?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“So I’ve oft been told,” Raoul replied lightly, but forcing the cheerfulness was getting more and more difficult. He was tired, damn it. Babysitting a bunch of fucking flowers was proving to be just as difficult as babysitting a troublemaking High Chancellor. If not more so, because at least the High Chancellor wasn’t fond of kicking him whenever he got a little too mouthy. “Would you stop making it hurt more?”
Yevi yanked hard on the bandages and gave him another glare. “How the hell are you still alive?”
“Calculate those variables you mentioned back when I was still in that shed and no doubt you’ll find your answer.”
“Should have left your ass there,” Yevi groused as he finished bandaging Raoul’s arm. “What were you doing anyway? Besides interrupting me? No one else gets injured this easy doing manual labor.”
Raoul snorted. “Try telling Corin to stop fucking kicking me—“
“Stop mouthing off,” Yevi cut in. “That usually helps kids make friends while they’re out playing. It also means the boss is less likely to get pissed and knock your head off.”
“No one finds me funny,” Raoul groused.
Yevi rolled his eyes and stood up to start putting away the medical supplies. “I feel sorry for whoever warms your bed on your off days.”
Raoul grinned. “That position is currently open, if you’re interested.”
“Thanks, but no,” Yevi said, rolling his eyes again. “Mother of the Land, being back home wouldn’t prove less aggravating as you.”
Well, that didn’t make much sense. The only thing about which Vrill were vainer than their looks was their homeland. Everyone there was still annoyed and confused that the Crown Prince had abstained from the throne – rumors abounded that he’d run off with a pirate lover.
Pyotr always smirked when he heard that story. Raoul had learned not to ask when he saw that expression.
So why on earth would a Vrill not want to go home? They only left home to somehow improve either themselves or their homeland – though how exactly a race which considered itself perfect could improve, Raoul had always wondered.
Even he, however, wasn’t quite dumb enough to ask a Vrill that. No, no. He liked all his appendages right where they were. “So what are you up to, beautiful?”
“What does it look like?” Yevi snapped, absently shoving back a loose strand of hair as he worked. “Lots and lots of soul to process.”
It was Raoul’s turn to roll his eyes and instead of getting up, merely stretched out on the couch where Yevi had shoved him when he’d come in bleeding.
Honestly, it wasn’t his fault someone had left a broken bit of cutter in the field, and if Corin hadn’t fucking kicked him – oh, Raoul was going to enjoy arresting that bastard. He was going to go positively Rehab on the bastard when this was over.
If this was his attitude after only a few days, he did not want to know what he’d be like when it was all over.
Grimacing, Raoul shifted his thoughts. “I don’t suppose there’s any alcohol to be had around here?”
“Not for you,” Yevi replied tartly. “Bad boys do not get treats.”
Raoul grinned. “What sort of treats do I get if I’m a good boy, pretty boy?”
“Not those kind,” Yevi retorted. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m actually working.”
“Oh?” Raoul asked, just to see him get mad. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Yevi ignored him.
Raoul sighed and closed his eyes, grateful for the cool of the cabin they were in. A simple thing, all efficiency and little comfort. There was a small bed in one corner, tidily made with a thin green blanket and faded white sheets. It didn’t look especially sturdy, but then again neither did he. The floor was old wood, creaky and faded and sagging a bit in places – but clean, swept and scrubbed. The couch on which he reclined and Yevi’s workstation were just as sparkling clean.
And there was a small plant growing in the single window, looking better than the entire fucking field Raoul had been fighting with all day to harvest the damned flowers.
Vrills. Even the snarliest of the lot still cooed over plants. Raoul finally settled his gaze on the snarly Vrill in question, more than happy to let it linger there. If he was going to be stuck here for only the stars knew how long, he could have done much, much worse in the way of allies.
Now, the only question was – how to get the snarly, pretty Vrill where he wanted him? Yevi was the reason he was stuck on this rock indefinitely, so damn it Raoul was going to get something, even if it only wound up being a fist to his jaw. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”
“Contemplating murder,” Yevi said, mashing a few more keys before swinging around in his chair and folding his arms across his chest, glaring at Raoul. “You’re all better. Get back to work.”
“I’m still feeling…woozy.”
Yevi gave him a Look and finally stood, stalking back over to him. “Get up or I’m going to call Corin in here to kick you.”
Raoul pouted. “Now that’s not very nice.”
“So you’re what, Half Fornarian and half whiney bitch?”
“At least I’m not a walking, talking plant,” Raoul replied.
Yevi narrowed his eyes and moved closer, obviously intent upon violence.
Raoul didn’t give him a chance, snaking an arm out and grabbing Yevi’s slender wrist, yanking the man down on top of him, pinning him down with one arm and getting another grope of that fine ass he’d been watching since they’d left the shed.
“Let me go,” Yevi hissed, but his strength wasn’t quite up to Raoul’s. “You rock-headed lug.”
Grinning, shamelessly taking another grope of that ass, Raoul smothered the curses still being hurtled at him with a kiss, not surprised to find his snarling Vrill tasted like clear water and fresh green things, a little bit sweet.
He swore as blood entered the picture, and pulled back with a grin, licking the blood from his lips. “You should lighten up.”
“You should not take such liberties without permission,” Yevi snapped.
Raoul lifted a brow and let him go. “Take such liberties? Who the hell actually says that sort of thing? And you were flirting back.”
“That no excuse!” Yevi made certain to dig in his elbows as he pushed off of Raoul and stood back up. A few more strands of hair had slipped free of the myriad braids – today the deep green was interspersed with dark red ribbons, an interesting contrast. Raoul thought he preferred the yellow.
Only a Vrill would manage to look so pretty when he was up to his neck in soul harvesting for a Top Ops assignment.
“I always forget Vrill are so tetchy,” Raoul said, sighing and sitting up. “I meant no harm.”
Yevi grunted. “Get back out there before Corin comes looking for you. I prefer to have him in here as little as possible.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Raoul said, heaving a long sigh. “I will never again complain of life being boring. I’d forgotten how much I hate this sort of manual labor.”
He thought he’d left it well and truly behind. Nothing was worse than hard labor that accomplished nothing, that left you dead and drained with nothing to warm but the thought of doing it all over the next day.
Not that he’d have lacked for company if he’d wanted it…but it was no fun to invite someone in when they just assumed it was what you’d do. He wasn’t his mother, thanks and good night.
“How did you get into your line of work?” Yevi asked as he reached the door. “You seem more the Bangkok type, less the Zero type.”
Raoul stiffened, ice lancing down his spine. No matter where he went… “Yes, I suppose I do. Just like plants belong buried in the ground!” He stormed out and stalked back to the field, ignoring Corin’s sharp barking.
No matter where he went…
He knew he was overreacting. There was no reason to get mad about one stupid comment after his own little stunt. He always overreacted. Damn it, just because—
Snarling, Raoul bent back to work, scooping up his equipment from where he’d dropped it upon slicing his arm. His arm protested as he put it to work, and Raoul wished briefly that he’d cadged some pain killers out of Yevi before he’d stormed off in a snit. Ah, well. That would teach him to get into snits.
Ha.
Angrily Raoul went from flower to flower, carefully slicing open the seed pods and catching the thick, clear liquid that spilled out. Aggravating, meticulous, hard labor. His back was going to hate him by the end of this sour adventure.
And just because he was feeling whiney, he wanted his stunners back too!
Raoul sighed and attempted to focus on nothing but his task – but he had long ago trained himself too well to pay attention to everything around him.
The workers were all quiet, but tense – they didn’t like him, as he’d cost them two workers, even if it had been their own fault for playing with strange stunners. Any idiot should have been able to see there were at least two safeties to each one, and where there was two there could easily be three.
Morons.
Raoul stopped short when he realized he’d started humming, and grimaced. He hadn’t done that in years and didn’t like he was picking it back up. Humming was too much reminder of washing dishes, putting up with people who had all the money in the stars but hadn’t used it to buy manners.
Going home to clean up, then back out to yet another hellhole to do more thankless grunt work.
He didn’t belong in Bangkok. The only way he’d ever go near the place was to protect Pyotr. He’d done his part making Bangkok sparkle, and he wasn’t doing it anymore.
Drat it, somehow this was Yevi’s fault too. The whole damn mess could be Yevi’s fault so far as he was concerned. Stupid Vrill.
Raoul sighed and sat down in the field, carefully setting aside his gear. His arm had started bleeding again, which of course he deserved for being so brutal with it – but he really didn’t feel like going back to Yevi to get fresh bandages.
He sensed and heard someone approach, and was standing again before Corin could get another kick in. Letting the man kick him around was aggravating – but striking back would get him killed, and he didn’t feel like being dead after escaping that fate twice.
Except it wasn’t Corin – it was Yevi.
“What?” Raoul asked, trying not to sound exactly as he did sound – tense and snippy and peevish. But damn it – he didn’t belong in Bangkok.
Yevi gave him a look that made Raoul feel like a kid about to be grounded. “You’re bleeding. I just fixed that.”
Yep, grounded kid.
“I’m impressed you noticed my bleeding arm from your cabin, beautiful,” Raoul replied. “I’ll take care of it later. Get back to your processing.”
Yevi rolled his eyes. “Oh, you are –“ snarling epithets that were too low for Raoul to catch, he grabbed him by the good arm and dragged him back to the cabin.
“Hey, Yevi!” Corin snarled, stalking toward them. “I have work that needs to get done.”
“Half these plants are ready, he’s nearly picked the other half himself while the others were off sampling it, and we’re a full two days ahead of schedule so you can kiss my ass Corin. Next time you want work done to your satisfaction – tell your men that stunners aren’t toys. He’s injured, I’m fixing him up and he’ll get back to work when I say so or you bother to bring in a real medic.” Snarling, Yevi turned away, dragging Raoul with him.
Raoul frowned. “Now how come you can yell and smart off and not get kicked and I can’t?”
“Because finding another processor as good as me would be nigh on impossible unless he wanted to pay more.” He shoved Raoul back onto the couch, then strode to his desk and mashed a few keys. “How does an obnoxious brat like you become the bodyguard of the High Chancellor?”
“The same way the High Chancellor acquires all his pets.”
“His precious IA, you mean?” Yevi asked.
“Yes,” Raoul replied. “I fixed a problem, Pyotr kidnapped me afterwards, I got revenge by asserting myself as his new bodyguard.”
Yevi rolled his eyes as he set down the medical kit, then sat next to Raoul on the couch. “Figures.”
“So how does a Vrill become Top Ops?” He reached out to tweak one of the delicate braids, letting his fingers trail briefly along a sharp cheekbone.
“He has nowhere else to go,” Yevi said sharply. “Why are you so tetchy about Bangkok?”
Raoul grimaced, both from memories and the rough way Yevi unwrapped his arm and cleaned the three inch slice in his forearm. “Not fond of the place.” He made a face. “I’m sorry I stormed out.”
Yevi looked up, surprised, then dropped his head again. “Forget about it.”
“So when are you hoping to finally nail whoever’s in charge of all this?”
“I don’t know,” Yevi said tiredly. “He’s meticulous about keeping a distance, and I swear sometimes he must have a gremlin designing his security systems. I can never trace his communications to any source, and I hesitate to push for fear of being discovered myself. As precious few know I’m here, no one is likely to notice I’m missing, and I’d much rather not wind up fertilizer for soul.”
“It would be a waste of pretty plant life, that’s for sure,” Raoul said with a grin. “So now that you’re stuck with me for a bit, doctor flower, why not fill me in on everything? The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”
Yevi stamped hard on his foot and glared. “My name is Yevi.”
“Yes, beautiful.”
Snarling, Yevi tied the new bandages off with a vengeance, then dug out a medicine tab and all but threw it at him. “You are obnoxious.”
Raoul grinned. “So talk.”
Heaving a sigh, Yevi nodded and began to quickly but efficiently explain all that he’d learned while being undercover.
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Date: 2007-04-16 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-16 02:36 pm (UTC)Can't wait for more, and much love.
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Date: 2007-04-16 02:37 pm (UTC):reads:
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Date: 2007-04-16 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-16 04:55 pm (UTC)I love how you've brought out Tresnor. I know that you once said that you don't care for sci-fi, but you do a fantastic job writing it.
*love, love, love*
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Date: 2007-04-16 08:31 pm (UTC)Ooooh, the trial is picking up. Tresnor is quiet-snarky-awesome. I love how rude he is to the vulture-lawyer (Whose name I would butcher and am too lazy to scroll back up for. ^__~) and that even the comments about Baxter and Lucid didn't faze him so much as make him sharper. ^___^
And Val, I adore. He is sooooo sweet. That he can't lie so fits, though the poor thing, surrounded by lawyers. ^___^;; ::grin:: Bikendi seems to be warming to him, at least. ::grin::
Raoul, I will never tire of his smart-assery. I love too, that he's getting tired of the work, and that the's got his weak spots. And that Yevi hit one of them, and that he went after Raoul to... apologize, perhaps. ^___^ Hee, and the hints about the Vrill crown prince? ::beams:: That lil tidbit, with the Pyotr smirk and the negative way Yevi mentions his homeland... ::grin:: I have a theory. ^___^ And the way that Yevi doesn't deny he was flirting when Raoul "takes liberties" (::snicker:: Go Raoul! I love his fiestiness. ^_____^).
::glomps:: In other words, not a botch and quite the lovely piece of bribery. ^________^ ::loves::
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Date: 2007-04-17 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-17 12:09 am (UTC)Yeah, sorry =_= It's been a night *fails at life*
Babe, I see nothing wrong with it at all. It was most luffly and made this entire shitty Monday worth it ^____^
I loved what you did, and neither party quite knowing wtf to do, really, and I really want that stupi ho-bitch to face a steel just to see if she'd wet her stupid pants.
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Date: 2007-04-17 12:13 am (UTC)::Grin:: She's not dead. Though I don't really ever see a circumstance in which she'd meet a steel. The places she'd frequent are much too scummy.
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Date: 2007-04-16 10:11 pm (UTC)This still kills me. ^____^ Everything is love, but Pyotr's Scheming is Eternal Love. ^_____^ Bizarre stuff happening in the universe? Pyotr probably had a hand in it. *grin*
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Date: 2007-04-16 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-16 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-17 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-17 06:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-17 06:16 am (UTC)“He’s meticulous about keeping a distance, and I swear sometimes he must have a gremlin designing his security systems. I can never trace his communications to any source, and I hesitate to push for fear of being discovered myself."
Should I be afraid, be very afraid? Or you can just tell me I'm being delusional :)
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Date: 2007-04-17 09:23 am (UTC)stop being a silly boy. you know you wants him.
Dear Raoul,
tap that fine ass.
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Date: 2007-04-17 03:37 pm (UTC)Raoul is cute, but I think I might be driving to a little head-kicking myself if I had to be around him too much. Still, his meager beginnings make him endearing, and even if he doesn't know the details, his touchiness and apology seem to be working on Yevi, as well. ^_^
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Date: 2007-04-18 01:46 am (UTC)Sometime in January over at
Since then I've fleshed out the idea a bit more and fixed a few potential problems (how to avoid spoilers, yet have summaries so people can find things they've read before), although i haven't actually started writing the page. Anyway, I realized I never got your thoughts on the subject, so before I move ahead any further- Would this be ok? The simplest description of what I'd be doing is a kind of link hub to make it easy to find all of the kidnapped-verse since it's spread between both your and
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Date: 2007-04-18 02:03 am (UTC)I'm sorry I never got back to you ^^;; I think right as I had intended to tell you that you're very brave to even think of tackling it, tygati decided to try it one night:
http://tygati.darkkingdom.com/kidnapped.html
Though I like the idea of summaries alot. If you wanted to do your own thing, I certianly do not mind.
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Date: 2007-04-18 04:27 am (UTC)Hmm, well, she's got the reading list part down (yikes, I hadn't realized it was that much even though I have all the links aved in a file somewhere). I'll probably work more with the idea of indexing it so people can find the parts they've read before again (summaries etc.)
Thanks! Although I probably won't do a thing until school gets out.
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Date: 2007-04-18 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-18 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-19 12:31 pm (UTC)2) Val is absolutely adorable. I loooooves him so. *squishes him* And Bikendi almost smiled at him! Now to just get him to relax enough to admit that he actually might like Val a little. XD
3) Heartstone code. ;_; Poor Val. Poor Draconis. I like that there were two camps of thought on why to eliminate the race, and I like that Val was more adverse to the pity than the hate.
4) There was also a Draconis matched with an Avarri, according to the reports. Val assumed they would be present for the hearing, though all he’d got when he asked was a lot of rolled eyes and fervent shaking of heads. Bwhahahahahahahhahaha!!! XD *dies laughing* Let me attempt to picture Meiki in a courtroom...XD
5) Raoul is just utterly adorable. XD In that 'wring his neck' kind of way. *snickers* Poor Yevi is going to have his hands full with that one. Heehee!! I love that Yevi thinks of him as someone who would have more fun on Bangkok than on Zero and that Raoul has a strong aversion to Bangkok. I also love how bent out of shape he got about it. XD
6) I love the way that Raoul keeps calling Yevi by pet names that Yevi can't stand too. *snickers*
7) This is an incredible universe, with absolutely wonderful characters. *hearts madly* I looooooove reading this. *__________* Seriously, you rock the world. Never doubt it. *flying tackle glomps*
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Date: 2007-05-20 03:57 am (UTC)