Meant 10 & 11

[maderr]

Chapter Ten

Unknown Planet, Unknown Location


Raoul dropped his equipment with a grimace. Ugh. Sweaty and filthy, and not in a way that left one feeling even remotely satisfied. This had to be the shittiest mission ever forced upon him. Working a soul farm was proving to be even worse than his stint in a seafood restaurant.

He still didn't eat fish, and after this he was never looking at another flower again.

Except maybe the utterly delectable one who was still rejecting all his advances. Maybe the Vrill had other obligations somewhere. He'd known a few with betrothals and all, and Yevi was definitely pretty enough to be part of the noble class – at least at some point. If he was an Auth, and a high-ranking one at that, then he likely hadn't been part of Vrill society for awhile.

And he really had been out in the sun too long if his thoughts were pondering Yevi with this much focus.

Speaking of heat – it sucked. He wanted something cold. Preferably alcoholic in nature. If only, if only.

Sighing, Raoul stripped off his shirt and used it to wipe away the worst of his sweat, then tossed it on top of his equipment and strode to the barn, kneeling and turning on the water spigot, cupping his hands to catch the water, splashing himself until his hair was soaked and he felt several degrees cooler – and a bit cleaner.

He turned and looked up at the sound of feet, the steps familiar. Grinning, he turned off the water and stood up, slicking back his soaked hair. "Hey, sexy. Come to take a look?"

"At the slim pickings?" Yevi retorted.

Raoul winced. "Ouch, beautiful. I know I'm not that ugly."

Yevi rolled his eyes. "Why are you slacking off?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, beautiful, it's hot out here. Not being plantlife, I can only take so much of it."

"I thought you rock spiders were impervious to everything. Thick skinned, thick headed…"

Raoul spread his arms, showing off his bare chest. "Half-Fornarian. Not whole. I'm only half-rock spider. The rest of me is human, which means this blazing weather needs to take a hike."

"So do you have Fornarian magics?" Yevi asked. "I haven't noticed you using them."

"I've got'em," Raoul replied, pleased that Yevi was being friendly – for Yevi, anyway. "Not full Fornarian, but I can stick just like one. Minor healing stuffs, all the usual things." He grinned. "Anything else you want to know, pretty?"

Yevi glared. "How to shut you up."

Raoul leered. "I have a few suggestions."

"Oh, I doubt even sex would shut you up unless there was a gag involved," Yevi retorted.

"I'm always willing to play."

Yevi sighed and shook his head. "You're obnoxious."

"It was the only way to survive once," Raoul said, then wished he could take the words back, wondering what in the hell had gotten into him.

Yevi blinked, obviously taken by surprise. He hesitated, and Raoul knew the question was coming and wanted badly just to avoid it but he had opened his mouth for some stupid damn reason. "On Bangkok?"

"Yeah," Raoul said, unable to help the tension that fell over him, the defensiveness. Everyone loved and adored magical Bangkok, but everyone fucking overlooked the ones that slaved away to give it that magic.

Unless, of course, they wanted another glass of wine or to bitch about their service or a cheap and easy fuck.

Damn it, why was he thinking about this shit after so many years of not? Soul farming was obviously not his thing.

"You grew up in Bangkok? Where? I only ever visited a couple of the towers…"

Raoul let out a sharp, sad laugh. "The towers? Man, someone like me never goes near those things. I was slum trash, lowest of low. The shining lights don't reach everywhere. I seriously doubt someone as upscale as a noble Vrill ever got within two clicks of my kind."

The sound of the runner ship arriving proved a merciful distraction, the noise cutting in to whatever Yevi had been about to say – probably nothing Raoul wanted to hear anyway.

Turning away – fleeing he admitted in disgust – Raoul strode to the runner as it landed, eager to see if he could finally get a closer look at it. It looked like a VT3.3 model, meaning it should be the short transport runner for a Cobalt or Crescent model Combat Class starship.

Which was only slightly illegal for civilians to own. Those were IG military models exclusively, which meant this was definitely an IA matter, not just Auth.

"So anything interesting?" one man asked.

"Hang on, hang on," the runner said irritably. "Work first, you lazy bastards."

Raoul snorted. "Like you have anything to do, come on."

"Shut it, rookie," the runner snapped.

"Hey, I pulled in more than all these bitches. I'm earning my keep. Give us something new to talk about."

Rolling his eyes, giving in to the demands which echoed Raoul's, he threw his hands up and with a reluctant grin gave up. "Okay, look, word is flying about the Draconis trials.

The men groaned. "We don't care about politics!" one of them protested.

"I care," Corin said from behind them. "Spill it. I want all the details."

Giving the boss an odd look, the runner nevertheless shrugged and began to tell them all that had transpired at the opening trial. "Then – then, they're saying, this prince guy immediately gives up the throne to this other guy, some Lord fella no one has seen for years. They say the Vrills all have their panties in a twist about it, and are giving the chick who represents him all kinds of hell about it."

"What was his name?" Yevi asked, the oddly quiet tone of his voice cutting through the racket, startling everyone into silence. "The Vrill to whom Prince Jaz gave the throne?"

The runner frowned. "Uhh….I dunno, you Vrills have weird names. Teleon? Something like that."

Yevi frowned. "Teleyeveon Kao?"

"Yeah, that sounds right." The runner grinned. "You know him, Yevi?"

"No," Yevi said, frowning. "I had not realized everything had gotten so crazy back home. That's what those morons get for all their plotting and scheming." He turned abruptly away and stalked toward his cabin.

The men all shook their heads and exchanged glances, rolls of their eyes.

"Vrills," one of them finally said. "They should stay at home with their plants. None of them make any fucking sense."

"Pretty though," another man said with a leer. "If he'd stop being so damned prickly, I'd lay that man in a second."

Another man laughed. "Maybe a good fuck is all he needs, eh?"

Raoul snorted. "Like you're pretty enough a Vrill would want to fuck you."

"Oh, please, crash-landing – you think you are? Walking around bare-chested in hopes of upping your chances?"

Raoul threw his head back and laughed. "I don't think being sweaty and dirty is going to increase my chances, no. I took my shirt off because it's fucking hot, in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, we noticed," another man groused, and the group fell into a bitching session about the weather.

Using his chance, Raoul sidled up closer to the runner ship. "Sweet piece," he said, running his hand along its side. "Combat-class runner, right? You have the ship to go with it, or is this all your skinny ass could steal?"

The runner narrowed his eyes. "How the fuck do you know it belonged to a combat class?"

"I'm a fucking mechanic," Raoul replied, still petting the ship. "I've done a little bit of everything, including a term in a shipyard. This is a runner for a combat-class ship. You can tell by the metal—it's grade d easy, possibly e. I'm a bit out of practice." It was definitely a runner for a Cobalt-model, meaning the grade wasn't anything civilians could purchase anywhere.

Strange, even if these guys were making drops where no one looked too closely at anything beyond the points being exchanged. How the hell did a bunch of soul farmers – even ones obviously running the largest damned operation he'd ever seen – get hold of a combat class ship of which only two hundred had been made?

This reeked of an insider. A lowlife backstabber Raoul would cheerfully haul off to Rehab himself.

Right after he found the bastard who'd killed -- attempted to kill Pyotr because Pyotr was not dead and stars he did not need to be thinking about that right – Pyotr and beaten the living shit out of him.

Or maybe he'd just feed the ass to that maniac gremlin. Yes, nothing would be crueler.

"Anyway, I was just admiring the hardware," he said, stepping back. "The most exciting part of my life now is fixing that damned tractor when it goes bust. Which reminds me, did you get the damned parts I asked for?"

"Yeah, yeah," the runner groused. "I'll throw'em at your head once I get everything unloaded."

Raoul grinned. "Good. I'll be with Yevi."

"You're not gonna get any from that dead plant," one of them said. "We've all tried. Whatever's stuck up his ass, it ain't coming out."

"Maybe you just don't have what it takes to care for plants," Raoul said. He laughed at the jeers and taunts thrown after him, still laughing as he opened the door to Yevi's cabin.

He fell abruptly silent, watching Yevi, who was tending the plant he kept in the window.

Though everyone called Vrills plants, they weren't really – it was just they had such an affinity for the things, it was easy to call them that. Raoul had often admired the Vrill he'd seen, growing up. One of his fondest memories had been spying on a woman waiting in the lobby of the restaurant he'd been working for at the time.

She'd been frowning over a rather sad-looking Mars rose bush, and had knelt down to touch it, pet it – then she'd started singing. Only softly, Raoul had barely been able to hear her.

It had been fascinating, that strange song. Like nothing he'd ever heard, before or since.

Until now.

The woman had possessed a gentle voice, soft and delicate. Yevi's was nothing like that. Still low, but rougher, less gentle, though still delicate in a strange way.

Raoul stood in utter silence, enthralled by it – and very likely the plant was too. In addition to the singing, it got stroked and petted by those lovely, lovely hands. He watched fascinated as the plant seemed to come even more to life than it had been before, new leaves opening, small white and yellow flowers blooming.

He hadn't known Vrills had that much power over plants. It was part of their magics to help plants grow, even when there was no soil or water or light…but to increase the speed of its growth like that…

The singing slowly died, Yevi's hands sliding away from the plant, and he sighed as he turned to face Raoul. "What do you want?"

"Everything all right?" Raoul asked, suddenly concerned.

"What do you care?" Yevi asked, moving to his desk, punching in commands with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, none of the gentleness he'd shown the plant remaining in his movements. "Just snarl and walk away again, that seems to be your modus operandus."

Raoul frowned, stung – even if maybe it was true. "I wasn't happy I opened my mouth. I don't know why I did. Why did you come out to see me, anyway?"

"I didn't," Yevi said. "I went to meet the runner. Was there something you needed?"

Vrill really were the most aggravating… "Just thought I'd come chat for a bit. Notice anything about that runner?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Yes," Yevi replied. "I used to serve on one." Meaning a Cobalt. "I've been trying to locate the combat ship for ages. It would tell me everything I needed to know to figure out who the fuck is running this operation. So far, no luck. Maybe you'll fare better."

Raoul grunted. "I'll do my best." He hesitated, then shrugged and turned to go, as Yevi had made it pretty clear he wasn't in the mood to tolerate unnecessary company.

"My mother was a whore, you know," Yevi said softly, voice barely carrying the small distance.

Startled, Raoul let his hand fall from the door he'd been about to push open, instead turning around.

Yevi still didn't turn around. "My father bought her every night for about a month, got exclusive rights. He told me once when he got drunk that his only regret in life was not having the balls to marry her. We Vrill are vain though, everyone says so. There was no way they would have let my father get away with it. They couldn't stop him from acknowledging me as his son, though. I look exactly like him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," Yevi snapped, finally turning around. "I don't appreciate being told I could never understand because I'm obviously Vrill nobility." His green eyes blazed. "You get so damned tetchy with people making assumptions about you – ever notice you make plenty of assumptions of your own?"

Raoul opened his mouth – then closed with a snap. He nodded tersely, acknowledging the defeat. "You're right. I'm sorry. In my defense, your race isn't always terribly friendly."

"Oh, yes, and humans and Fornarians are the joys of the stars."

"Yeah, yeah," Raoul said lightly, crossing the room to stand close. "We might be annoying as fuck, but we put out – that makes us worth not killing."

Sadness flickered briefly across Yevi's face. "With some of us, there isn't always an option. I keep my distance for reasons of my own, rock-spider. Just let it be."

The words upset him, not least of all because of that sadness. Oh, who in the stars was he kidding – mostly because of that sadness. It didn't fit with Yevi, though he wasn't sure how he knew that. "Why so glum?"

"Not glum. Resigned. I have never belonged to myself, and it would seem I'm never going to. Now get out of here so I can get some work done – and start looking for that ship."

"Yes, sir," Raoul muttered, and obediently departed.


Chapter Eleven

Planet 2154014 (Tredad), Settlement Four

"What are you doing up?" Pyotr demanded as he came out of the bathroom, letting the towel he'd been using fall around his shoulders as he strode over to the kitchen. "You'll reopen your wounds."

Jade glared at him. "I'm fine," he snapped.

Pyotr glared right back. "No, you're not. Any deeper and I wouldn't have been able to stop the bleeding. All this moving around isn't going to help anything."

"It seems to me," Jade replied, "that the more logical course would have been to let me bleed to death. I'm astonished you're still here, Pyotr." He turned back to the stove and filled his dark green teapot with hot water. The sharp scent of Tredad spice tea filled the cabin.

Barely keeping back his anger, Pyotr gave up being cautious and reached out to snag Jade's good arm, yanking the man around to face him. His voice was low as he spoke, but possessed of all the intensity that drew people in and made them listen to the High Chancellor. "Whatever lies unspoken between us can remain that way, Jade – but don't you ever suggest for one moment that I would leave you to die."

Jade jerked away, eyes flashing for a moment with something to which Pyotr could not put a name, then turned stiffly away. Silence reigned as he got out a cup and poured his tea, then slowly turned and moved to low table and thick pillows which made up the sitting area of the large room. "I never said would," he said softly, words barely audible. "I said should."

Pyotr opened his mouth, then closed it, heaving a mental sigh.

He could out argue his uncle, he had every last Chancellor and Councilor jumping to obey his every command, the feistiest gremlin to ever live counted him a brother, the Lord of Bangkok was a trusted comrade, and some of the greatest minds – and criminals – in the stars answered only to him…but he could not figure out how to talk to the man who mattered more to him than anyone.

Forty two years old and he felt once more like a dumb kid.

Leaving Jade in peace, Pyotr resumed toweling off his hair, then moved to the cleaner tucked into a corner of the kitchen area, pulling out the clothes he'd set to clean while he showered, pulling on a tanktop but not bothering to exchange his drawstring pants for proper slacks.

He smiled faintly, realizing he could not remember when he'd last spent so long a period of time in casual dress. Stars, he was lucky to go an entire night without being woken – and he'd learned the hard way never to answer calls before he was fully dressed.

Moving to the bed, he stripped the sheets and blankets, then threw them in with his towel, pressing a few buttons before turning the cleaner on. Quickly he remade the bed, after all these years still hearing the voice of his aunt snapping out corrections as she watched his every move to make certain he did the job properly.

If he was thorough about everything he did, it was because on some level he still dreaded the disapproval in that voice for a job poorly done. He and his Uncle might control the stars, but his Aunt ruled the home.

Chores finished, Pyotr found himself at a loss. He was going to go insane before this was over – though more than a few, he knew, said he was already.

He strode back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea, then settled in the window seat that had become his favored spot. "So what happened to you?"

At first it did not seem Jade would answer, and Pyotr had not really expected him to – but then his low, cool voice broke the silence. "A disagreement," Jade said, sipping his tea before continuing. "He was a cheat but resented being called thus."

"What did you do to him?" Pyotr asked, knowing exactly how formidable Jade was, despite his willowy appearance. Their father had been an Auth for years; the Alexander family had an extensive martial history. It had been no surprise to Pyotr that Cyan Alexander had done so well as a Rehabber.

He could not see Jade's face, but he could hear the cold smile in his voice. "Blind men can't use knives."

Pyotr had attributed the blood on Jade's hands to his own wounds…he should have known better.

"Though I'm not certain I should be saying so much to the High Chancellor," Jade said coolly.

"It little matters," Pyotr said tiredly. "One less criminal with which I have to contend. Though if you're in a sharing mood, I would dearly love to know how you managed to slip away with so many high-security individuals. Gory especially. I have not been able to figure out how you snatched him away."

Jade laughed, a sound that would have been pretty but for the bitter anger in it. "Oddly enough, I didn't."

Pyotr nearly dropped his tea cup. "What?"

"I didn't snatch Gory away. His comrades did. I've been trying to locate them."

Narrowing his eyes, confused by both the words and the fact Jade was willingly offering such information – he'd expected to be ignored – Pyotr made himself stay where he was, but watched Jade intently, wishing he could see his face but admiring the long, dark gold-brown hair all the same. "His comrades?"

How in the stars had he missed some of Gory's allies? He was certain he'd gotten them all…

Jade laughed, and this time it held the sharp edge of the wanted criminal he was, the same man who had orchestrated a horrible, highly illegal experiment upon Draconis simply to bring down a man he hated.

"Who?" he demanded when Jade did not reply.

A rustle of fabric as Jade turned, looking over his shoulder with the faintest smirk twisting his pretty mouth. "What does it matter, Pyotr? You cannot be High Chancellor here, so the information would do little good. But…I do not doubt the same comrade is behind your assassination. I wonder how desperately he's scrambling to find you before your friends."

Pyotr shrugged. "I'm certain my extended absence works as well as my death, given that I'm sure this relates to the trials."

Jade threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the room, his entire body shaking with amusement. "Pyotr – you know so much, but so very little. Trials? Not really. More like the end of the trials, if the vote goes the way you want and have been plotting to ensure."

A chill lanced through his spine. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Haven," Jade said smugly, once again turning to look over his shoulder, nothing slight about his smirk this time.

Pyotr barely noticed as his teacup slipped through his fingers, shattering on the ground. "What? How in the stars did you know about that? Only three of us know about it. We never communicated about it electronically. We spoke only when we met in person, and in highly restricted locations." Dismay crashed through him.

All his plans. He knew how to keep a secret – he'd managed to keep it even from Tau. It was the last key element in his plans to save the Draconis…"How?" he whispered.

"Mmm, I wonder," Jade said idly, moving to pick up the broken bits of porcelain, and even in his dismay Pyotr noted the pretty line of his long neck, the loosely-bound hair only enhancing it.

He shook himself and slid from his seat, kneeling on the floor, catching Jade's hands. "You shouldn't be moving. Go sit down."

"Stop trying to give me orders, High Chancellor," Jade replied, tugging his hands free and going back to work.

Sighing audibly, Pyotr rose and moved to fetch a rag, coming back and quickly mopping up the mess he'd made. "Jade – tell me. How did they know? I need to know."

"Oh, I think the how hardly matters by this point," Jade said. "You should be more concerned with the other two of your three. Only three of you know the plan, the location…and they have already tried to kill you…"

Pyotr drew a sharp breath, genuine fear mingling with his dismay now.

"How?" he demanded, grabbing Jade's shoulders. "No one could have overheard or, and there was no communications to intercept. I'm the head of IA – I know better than anyone how to keep a secret, and the two helping me are at least as discrete, if not even more so."

Jade laughed. "What does it matter, Petya?" he asked. "You are stuck here, and not going anywhere – you stopped me from getting him once, you won't stop me again. You had your chance to run away and passed it up."

"I couldn't leave you like you were," Pyotr whispered, hands holding Jade even more tightly before he finally was able to force them to loosen, slide slowly away. "Jade, please. You have to tell me how they discovered it."

Jade turned away, moving to the kitchen to throw away the broken teacup. "Did you honestly think, Pyotr, that you three were the only ones who knew about that planet? Your scout explored thoroughly, but not thoroughly enough. There's rather an extensive soul farm hidden on that planet – one of the most lucrative in the stars. Someone involved in the trial." His hands clenched briefly, voice hardening. "Someone who is keeping Gory from me."

Pyotr felt sick. All his precautions and he'd missed a damned soul farm. He would kill himself if he thought that would help anyone.

Soul. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would wipe out that damnable drug.

"There has to be something I can do…who in the trials?"

Jade quirked one delicate brow. "Now, now, Pyotr – I've told you enough of what I know. That aside, there is nothing you can do about it."

"At least warn them!" Pyotr bellowed, temper snapping. "They don't deserve to die because a bunch of despicable drug dealers are terrified of losing their farm!" He slammed his fist into the wall behind him. "Damn it, Jade – you are vicious, not cruel."

"Do you think so, Petya?" Jade asked with a cold laugh – but Pyotr realized he could hear the sadness in it. "My brother would disagree. The Draconis would disagree."

Pyotr frowned and crossed the room, latching on to one of those delicate, slender hands. "Jade…"

"Don't," Jade said sharply, eyes dark and haunted. "I made my choice, Pyotr. You made yours. Words unspoken should remain thus."

Pyotr let him go. "At least you're admitting there are things unspoken."

"I never denied it," Jade snapped, turning sharply away – stumbled, swayed.

Barely catching him in time, Pyotr swung a too-pale looking Jade up in his arms and carried him back to the bed. "You've started your wounds bleeding again, just like I warned you would."

Jade grimaced. "I still don't feel like being stuck in bed all day."

"It's going to be all month if you don't stop it," Pyotr replied sharply. "You've always been obstinate, Jade, but not usually to the point of hurting yourself."

"There are things I need to do – getting more food is on that list."

"Shut up," Pyotr said. "We'll survive a bit longer; there's plenty set by." Glaring at him in warning, he went to fetch the medic kit. Setting it on the floor, he moved to the fastenings of Jade's shirt, ignoring the way he tried to jerk away, finally getting the shirt off. He set to bandaging the wounds anew in silence, face tight as he took in the damage done to the fine body, the way it would scar the beautiful skin. "What kind of knife did he use?"

Jade grimaced. "Fornarian obsidian."

"Ouch," Pyotr said, wincing in sympathy. "No wonder it's being so stubborn. Of course, if you'd lie still, it wouldn't be nearly so bad."

A mutinous silence was his only reply.

Rolling his eyes, Pyotr finished patching Jade up, then returned the medkit to the table before stalking back into the bathroom to clean himself up.

He swore when he came out. "Bed! Now!"

Jade ignored him, taking a sip of his tea and then flipping open his chest of polish.

Pyotr grit his teeth and wondered what he could use for restraints. "You shouldn't be moving around, will you get that through your head?"

“I’ll do as I please,” Jade snapped. He scowled a moment before schooling his face into its usual reserved expression. Still a wince slipped past when he again tried to move his injured arm, eyes dark with pain as he twisted open a bottle of midnight-blue polish, only to accidentally drop it.

Glaring at him, Pyotr moved to the kitchen table and sat, snagging Jade’s wrist, forcing him to still. Keeping hold of the captured hand, he sat down and picked up the polish with his free hand. “Honestly, Jade. You need to be resting.”

“Have I mentioned those words are laughable, coming from you?" Jade replied, attempting to tug his hand free. “What in the stars do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up,” Pyotr said quietly, shifting his grip to carefully hold Jade’s hand properly. “If you don’t stop squirming, I’ll dump the contents of your chest out in the snow. The more you move, the longer it will take you to heal, so hold still and after this you're going to bed."

Jade muttered something too softly for Pyotr to catch anything but that he was going to be obeyed. Nodding, satisfied, he carefully set to work painting Jade’s nails.

Silence fell thick and heavy around them, Pyotr focused on his task, trying in vain to ignore Jade all that he could – impossible under the circumstances, but he tried.

He wasn’t as good as Jade, of course, but he didn’t think he was doing too poorly. When he’d finished the right hand, he carefully set it down and picked up the left. Jade’s skin was soft, warm, the bones so fine that he would think Jade fragile if he didn’t know far better.

This close, he could smell the tang of the man himself, tangled with the astringent bite of the healing cream, the sharp smell of the nail polish. Fine lips were turned down in the slightest of scowls, and Pyotr wondered if this hadn’t been a mistake. He couldn’t seem to make himself let go, however. Could do nothing but keep painting the long, sharp nails.

Some time later he finished, just as the clock above the sink chimed it was approaching dinner time.

The rustle of linen was startling in the thick, awkward silence. Pyotr rubbed his thumb over a stray drop of polish that had landed on his own skin, then lifted his eyes to watch the lithe, graceful figure moving stiffly about the kitchen. “Get back to bed! I'll take care of food.”

Jade glared and said nothing, merely continued to go about what he was doing.

Pyotr sighed, and gave more thought to improvising restraints.

Comments

[arithonrose.livejournal.com]

what! hey wait a minute...another twist!!! this story just gets better with every chapter


I love the twists and turns in you plots, I'm speculating madly at the moment, what is Jade up to and what does he know, who is the traitor, how come they all missed the Soul farm, where are all Pytor's pets, what is Tau up to (don't tell me he is not using that amazing singled minded intelligence to find Pytor)...what does Uncle know, oooh Uncle is not the traitor is he?


and Haven, I'm having flashes that we've heard this planet mentioned somewhere.........I'll have to go back and re-read Kidnapped from the start...... and all the side stories.........Oooh!!!...please tell me the Jewels are good guys........OMG I am such a sap.......and and and look what you've done to me *laughing*


I am spending way too much time going over and over this story....you missy are amazing, another lovely instalment thank you