Once Broken: Tristan, #6

By Sylvain St-Pierre

Home, familiar, alien. Answers?

Tristan returns to the one place he never expected to go to: Samalia—home, dragged there against his will by Alex, who believes its people hold Tristan's cure.

What Alex discovers is that a corporation is taking over the planet, bit by bit, and simply returning a Samalian artifact isn't enough to complete the ritual.

Can Alex stand still long enough for Tristan to rebuild the place the artifact belongs? Can Tristan remain sane enough to do the work? And if Tristan does get better, will Alex be able to accept what it means? For once broken, can someone ever be exactly who they used to be?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvain St-Pierre
• Release date: Mar 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393069836

Sylvain St-Pierre

Sylvain St-Pierre has been writing and making up stories for longer than he can remember, and driving a truck for the last fifteen years. He write stories in multiple genres, but with a usual focus on guys in relationships with other guys. The majority of his books are Furry in nature, with most dealing with gay relationships, and some being erotica. As a self-published author any support you can provide would be greatly appreciated. If you liked this book, consider buying his other titles, or support his Patreon at www.patreon.com/kindar Sylvain Can be contacted at : [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 01

Consciousness came slowly; he was coming out of cryo. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the relative silence. Other than the ship’s vibrations, everything was finally quiet. It felt to Tristan like it had been a long time since he’d had peace and quiet.

Why was he lying down? He never went into cryo on his back. He always did it in the pilot’s chair.

Even before the answer came to him, he was scrambling out of bed, his heart beating so fast he could feel his entire body reverberating with it. He looked around, searching, but not seeing what was there. Why was he reacting this way? He wasn’t scared, he couldn’t be scared. Fear was something he’d beaten years ago. He’d thrown it in the cage, locked the door, and forgotten about it there.

He tightened his hands into fists, then relaxed them in an effort to stop them shaking. The room finally registered, long, a closed ramp at one end, the open door to the cockpit at the other. The chair there was unoccupied. Each wall was lined with chairs. The one closest to the cockpit had a man sitting in it, still, under cryo.

Why hadn’t he been in the pilot’s chair? That was his place, not whatever it was he’d lied on. He turned to see what that had been, and caught sight of something clamped to his arm.

With a scream, he ripped it off and backed away from the medical bed. A chair hit the back of his knee, forcing him down in it. The cryo bracelet hung from its tube on the side of the bed. He had trouble breathing. He was trapped, needed to get out of here. He needed space to be able to fight what might come at him.

He’d taken a step toward the ramp’s control when he forcefully stopped himself. No, he growled. He clamped down on his thought. I am not afraid.

Someone laughed behind him and he spun. Where were they hiding? The only one there was the man in the chair, but he didn’t move, even as Tristan watched, so he wasn’t acting like he was under cryo. The floor had a hatch, but that was closed.

He swallowed. The laughter had been in his head?

No. I am in control of my mind. I’m the one in char—

On a cold, metal floor, curled up in a ball, crying, pleading for his attackers to stop, but they didn’t listen. All the people he’d killed wanted their revenge. They would make him suffer for killing them.

Justin gloated while Tristan was held. A woman in a lab coat placed something around his bicep. Justin went on and on like he always did. He was the better of them, Tristan would never escape this time. Tristan should have felt scorn for his brother, but all he could feel was fear.

His father was berating him for failing at yet another thing. Except it wasn’t a memory. He was an adult, and he wilted under his father’s disappointment.

He bit back a scream and held his head.

None of that was real. It couldn’t have been. He didn’t whimper, plead. He didn’t feel fear at his brother’s delusions, and he had never seen his father as an adult.

What was real?

Was this real? He touched his arm. The armband was gone. He looked at it, dangling off the side of the bed, but that wasn’t the one he’d been feeling for.

He’d been captured, caged, but he’d escaped. Alex had helped. Possibly? He wasn’t sure; some of the memories didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t tell if they were real or not. Alex had visited him inside the cage, but he hadn’t helped him then, so that couldn’t be real, except why would Alex help him when he’d done everything he could to chase him away?

Was the air getting thin?

Stay in control, he ordered himself. It’s the drugs. Yes, he’d been drugged. That was why nothing made sense. The armband was gone,

but the drugs could still be in his system. That was why he had trouble controlling himself. He needed to get something to counter them.

He turned to the bed and there was someone standing in the cockpit’s doorway: Alex. Tristan hadn’t chased him away. He wasn’t dead.

He was on his knees, keening as Justin told how he’d killed Alex, and Tristan had lost his mind.

Alex was alive—joy. Alex was alive—fear. Alex was alive—need. He remembered that need, craved it. The need to go to him, to touch him, to be his.

No! Tristan was no one’s! They were his, to use and discard as he pleased. He took a step back, contrary to what he’d been afraid he would do, but he did so in fear, and that enraged him. Tristan didn’t back away from anyone. He forced himself still. He didn’t show fear, certainly not to this human. Alex was his, not the other way around.

Alex’s face was hard, closed in. There was none of the affection he’d seen there before, expected to see now—wanted, needed to see, craved. There was none of the exasperation he could cause in Alex, delighted in doing. None of the anger he could easily trigger in him.

There was nothing on that face.

Tristan opened his mouth to…what? What did he want to say? Why should he even say anything?

Alex spoke. How are you? His voice was neutral, devoid of emotions. He stepped forward, and Tristan stepped back before he could stop himself. When Alex stopped, they were at each end of the medical bed.

What was the answer? His mind reeled in all directions. He was ecstatic that Alex was alive. He was terrified of the same. He desired Alex, and control was leaking out of the cracks.

I’m fine, Tristan said, but his voice shook. He tightened his fists to steady himself. He needed to touch Alex, run his hands over his smooth, naked body, breathe in his scent, hear him moan under him. He needed to rip him apart, destroy him completely, remove him from his life.

Don’t even think of destroying something. Alex’s gaze was on Tristan’s hand, the one he hadn’t noticed gripping the corner of the

bed. I already had to get it fixed once because of you. I’m not doing it again.

He felt the tension in his muscle as he pulled on it. He wanted to use it to bash Alex until all that was left of him was a puddle of blood on the floor. No! He couldn’t hurt Alex, he was… Shut up! Alex was nothing! He was everything.

He bit back the scream, turned it into a growl. Don’t tell me what to do. This is—

My ship, Alex snapped.

The two words cut through his anger and turned it to fear. Ice. There had been no heat in them. None of the anger he enjoyed causing the human. Tristan had never heard this tone from him. He’d screamed, pleaded. He’d been defeated, broken. But there was always a form of heat, always anger somewhere deep inside Alex. Even before he’d stoked it hotter, it had been one of the things he’d lo— Shut up!

You want this ship to be yours again, then you fucking earn it. Alex took a step forward, Tristan one back. Look at yourself, you’re shaking. You can barely control yourself. Another step, and Tristan backed up again. That isn’t what I fought to rescue. Another step, and Tristan had his back against the ramp. He glanced at the release, but the light showed a steady red. They were in space. It wouldn’t open without bypassing the safeties. Alex was only two paces away. He could reach out and wring his neck.

What are you waiting for? Alex asked. The words were hard, but his eyes searched Tristan’s If I cause you so much turmoil, just remove me. I’m standing in your way, so get rid of me already.

Tristan wanted to kill him. No!

He wanted to hurt him. No!

He wanted to make him pay for destroying his well-organized life.

Yes! He had Alex against the wall, he was pressed against him. Alex let out a scream of ecstasy.

No!

Tristan shook as his desires fought each other.

Alex’s mask cracked, and for an instant, disappointment and pain

leaked through. Then it was back. This isn’t you. Tristan stiffened. How dare he—

Something’s been done to you.

Of course something had been done: drugs and torture. He was stronger than that. He was going to beat it like he’d beaten everything else the universe threw at him.

I know how to fix it.

Tristan’s ears straightened. Alex could fix this? He wanted him to do it. No, he didn’t want that. He wanted to give in to the madness, stop having to worry about it all. No, he wanted control; he needed it if he was going to survive.

Alex turned. Come on, let me show you.

Tristan bristled; that had been an order. Where did Alex think he’d gotten the right to order him about? Tristan was following Alex without realizing it, only pausing for a moment as he caught sight of the planet on the screen, with readouts by it. He followed Alex up the ladder.

He remembered that room, but it was in better shape now. He’d left a greater mess than it had started in after raging in it. When had that been? Some time ago. After he’d tried to kill Alex while helpless in cryo. Alex caught him looking the room over as he opened a cabinet. I had to get this fixed too, so don’t touch anything. He took a case out and

opened it. Do you remember this?

The statue was of a Samalian. Sandy fur, a sword at his belt. The paint was faded, one ear was chipped. You had that when you barged into my life. He tried to put anger in his voice, but it sounded wistful to him.

Do you remember anything else?

He shook his head. There were seated at a table, outside, the statue between them.

You made me a promise, do you remember that?

Looking into his blue eyes, holding his hands on each side of the statue.

He snorted. Should I?

You promised to love me until the universe ended. Alex’s words were flat.

The joy in those blue eyes, the happy tears falling as he leaned forward, and they kissed. And you believed me? Please say you did. No. He is a

tool, nothing more. He knows his place.

I’m still here, aren’t I? No anger, no resentment.

Fine. Yes! So I conned you and you fell for it. No! It wasn’t a— Shut up!

Do you even know what this is? Alex was looking at it, not him. A carved stone someone painted.

It’s the Defender, one of the deities from your world.

He’s crazy, you realize that, right? his father said, leaning against the dresser. Completely loony.

A piece of rock, Tristan said, trying to ignore his father’s interference in his life.

Alex wasn’t paying his father any attention either, but was still looking at the statue. According to the stories I collected, one of the things the Defender is known for is binding promises. Samalians who wanted to show they were serious would go to one of the temples, stand before the Defender, make the promise, and the Defender would bind them to it.

I’ve known crazy people in my time, his father said, but no one that nuts.

It’s a piece of rock, Tristan repeated, glancing at his father. It’s just something I found in a market and figured you’d like because you were infatuated with me.

Alex smiled as he looked at him, but there was no humor in it. Really? Just a piece of stone? Then explain to me why the fuck you risked your life to save mine. Tristan took a step back under that anger.

Well, his father said, you wanted him to show emotions, there you go.

You, Tristan, whose only goal in life is surviving, injected me with the only cure to a virus that was certain to kill you!

There was more—

No, there wasn’t! You didn’t know Mary could make more. As far as we knew, it was the only dose that existed, so explain to me why you used it to save me.

I’m kind of curious about that myself, his father said. I thought I’d taught you better.

I don’t know, okay? he snapped at his father. I was going to inject myself, but then my arm moved and it injected him.

His father nodded toward Alex and the human was watching him, his face an emotionless mask again. He looked from his father to Alex again. Alex wasn’t ignoring his father; Alex couldn’t see him

His father grinned.

He wasn’t crazy. He was in control. He was—

His father laughed. You’re crazier than he is. I have to say, you two are a pair.

There are ways to get the Defender to relinquish his hold. To release you from your promise.

Oh, this should be good, his father said.

Tristan kept his mouth shut to keep from having Alex think he was crazy. He glared at his father and was about to ask how, when the information he’d seen on the screen told him where they were.

No! There’s no way I’m setting foot there again.

Goody, his father said, we’re going home. I haven’t seen the place since, well, since you killed me, but I’m sure it’s still the same mess of people just waiting to die. Places like this never change.

You have to, Alex said. You need to place the Defender back where he belongs. He was taken from one of the temples, so you need to return him there. You need to bring him home. You do that, and the stories say you can ask him to release you.

Nice story, his father said.

No! Tristan said over him. The anger in his voice didn’t make Alex flinch. There’s nothing for me there. They’re just a bunch of primitives with their muzzles in the dirt. I need to go out there and find Justin. He’s due for a beating that’s going to remind him not to fuck with me ever again.

I don’t think that boy can learn, his father said. And Tristan almost snapped at him, but Alex’s mask broke, and the sadness he saw there stopped him.

Justin’s dead.

Really? his father said. But you didn’t kill him.

It couldn’t be true. His legs shook, but he locked them in place. Something bubbled inside him, and a sound wanted to escape him. He

was on his knee, keening for a death.

He clamped down on his emotions, forced them under control. He wasn’t going to lose it over his brother. He summoned anger. How dare you kill him?

Yes! His father was next to him. Finally, he just gave you a perfect reason. Do it! Remove him from your life, finally!

He was my brother. My only family. Hey, what am I?

He ignored his father. Only I had the right to— Anders killed him.

Confusion washed away the anger. Who?

Human, his father said. Kind of an asshole. He showed up in that large room with the holograms.

Tristan nodded. He remembered that man. His claws in his flesh, the sound of breaking bones as he broke his ribcage open. Shoving the man’s heart down his throat. So he’d avenged his brother, good.

His father shook his head and nodded to Alex.

Anders had threatened to kill Alex. That was what had caused him to fly in a rage. Still, it meant he had avenged his brother’s death, even if he hadn’t known it, right?

He dropped to his knees. His brother was dead. A hole opened up inside him.

Come on, can’t you ever be satisfied? You spend your life trying to kill the boy and now that he is dead, you miss him?

Hands pulled at him, getting him to stand, then he was lying down. On a bed, his father complained. Get your ass on the floor, now!

He grabbed a pillow and buried his muzzle in it before the wail escaped him.

Chapter 02

The first thing that occurred to him was that he’d fallen asleep sitting. How had that happened? The second was wondering why the usual sounds outside his office weren’t there. It was only one building from the store, so he should’ve heard the people walking by, conversing and complaining.

He opened his eyes to the gray of a ship.

Right, he grumbled. This was Alex’s ship, Katherine’s Folly. He rubbed his face. They’d rescued Tech and now they were on their way to his home planet because Alex had a crazy notion a primitive place like that had a cure.

Jacoby sighed. His second cryo under a day, third since this started, and he’d woken up disoriented again. He was out of practice, he thought as he stood and stretched. At least his body had taken to it easily again.

He glanced at the medical bed, which was empty. Alex was in the pilot’s chair. Where’s Tech? he asked, stepping behind Alex’s chair.

Tristan, he answered, entering information.

Huh? The screen showed a station, older design, but in good condition, with a sliver of a planet in the bottom corner.

His name is Tristan. Tech was just a mask he wore to fool the lot of you.

There was coldness in Alex’s voice that hadn’t been there on the other side of cryo. He looked over his shoulder at the table. Where is Tristan then?

Sleeping, in the room.

He looked at the ladder. Sleep would do him good. Cryo didn’t help with rest. Where are we?

Carmina Station.

I thought we were heading for Samalia. Carmina is the Samalian station.

Jacoby looked at it again. Definitely a corporate model. He’d seen hundreds of them in his career. Each of them identical to the other, except for the wear and damage. That name doesn’t sound Samalian.

‘Tristan’ doesn’t either, Alex said, entering commands. But you’re right, it isn’t.

The station’s registry came up, definitely SpaceGov-approved, which meant corporate built. A few lines down, the name of the owner was listed.

LeisureTek.

Definitely corporate, but what was the biggest leisure corporation doing putting money in a place like this? They were known for cruise ships, stations where you could see nebulas and other wonders. Mobius had been one of theirs until it turned out that black holes weren’t the touristic attraction they expected them to be.

He checked the navigation readouts. Why didn’t you wake me sooner? I could have taken us in.

I can handle docking; it’s mainly automated. I just have to keep an ear on the system. They keep trying to slip in programs.

If I don’t have anything to do, I’m going to contact the folks back home. Let them know what’s going on, why we’re not back already. He sat at the communication board and tapped the command to activate it. Nothing happened. He tried a second time. Those things shouldn’t lock him out unless— Jacoby sighed. Alex, you can’t seriously think telling them anything is going to interfere with—

I’m setting up a secure line of communication. I do know how to do that.

Alex didn’t reply.

The board lit up with a man appearing on the screen. Diny’s. His eyes went wide. Jake! He spoke over the screen. Everyone, Jacoby’s calling in!

There was a cacophony of sounds and Jacoby smiled. The sounds of

home.

Alright, quiet down everyone. The man focused on the screen. How are you, Jake? How are Tech and Alex? The last time you called you said you’d be going after those who took him in a few days. That was more than a year ago for us. Did you find him? Are you on your way back?

Alex eyed him with a loud watch what you say expression.

I’m good, Kline. Alex is fine too. Tech… He trailed off, trying to work out how to formulate his answer.

Tell me you found him, Jake. Tell me he’s okay. The urgency in Kline’s voice was echoed by the murmurs from the unseen crowd. Jake, tell me you’re bringing our boy home.

The deadly glare Alex gave the screen would have made Jacoby laugh if he didn’t know it was a promise Alex could and would have no problem keeping. He hadn’t spent enough time socializing with the others to understand that Tech was all their boy.

We rescued him.

The relief on Kline’s face echoed through the crowd.

When it quieted, Jacoby continued. But they hurt him bad.

The man nodded. They’d have to; Tech wouldn’t give up his secrets to anyone.

Jacoby nodded. And he didn’t.

Tell him I’m proud of him. He looked over the screen, then returned his focus to Jacoby. Cornelius isn’t here. I’ll call her to let her know Tech’s been hurt. When do you think you’ll be back?

I don’t know. I don’t have the navigation details to work out the time frame, but I expect we’re looking at an objective year minimum to get back, and that doesn’t take into account how long we’ll be here.

Here? Why didn’t you come right back?

The med bed took care of Tech’s physical injuries, but his mind isn’t something it can handle. They scrambled that pretty good. We’re going to see an expert about it. That sounded better than Alex is crazy and thinks a bunch of primitives will to a better job of it than anyone with actual training could. We’ll head home right after that.

The crowd had grown quiet and Kline was solemn. You take good care of our boy, you hear?

"You don’t have to worry about that. If I let Tech get one scratch, I

think Alex will kill me." The crowd laughed, but Alex nodded, no trace of humor on his face. Alex had become far too intense during cryo for his liking. He almost missed what was said next.

Was there a space battle? That sounded suspiciously like Gregory. He should’ve been old enough to know better than encourage talk of violence around the younger folks. That question opened the flood of others, and for a long minute nothing made any sense.

Alright, Kline yelled, be quiet, let Jake talk. He shook his head in amusement. How about it, Jake? Care to regale us with what happened?

Unless you can promise me no parents are there, and that you’ll offer me protection should one of them get wind of this, I’m going to need a minute to figure out a safe way to recount this.

You know Diny’s is always a safe place for you.

Let’s see. It was us, plus some of Alex’s friends. A bounty hunter, a Lawman, a locksmith and his girlfriend.

Did she get hurt? the young girl asked again. Did you have to rescue her?

He chuckled. No, I didn’t have to do that. She could take care of herself. We also had a medic and a bunch of muscle.

Are they still with you? Kline asked.

They had their own ships, he said. He didn’t think telling them Alex had basically abandoned them on a freshly pirated ship was a good idea.

Did you kill a lot of bad people? Martin! a woman exclaimed.

There was a lot of fighting, Jacoby said. They didn’t want to give him up. Once we had Tech, we left.

That’s it? someone asked, disappointed.

Basically. I did have to fight off five mercs on my own when they tried to take over our ship, but yeah, that’s it. This wasn’t a vid. There was no drama added just to keep you entertained. Considering all the drama that had happened, it could have been a vid, Jacoby thought, but that they didn’t need to know.

Alright, Kline called, "you’ve gotten the news. This particular show’s over, so get back to your food before it gets too cold and you start

complaining to me. The complaints became fainter as people moved away. When Kline focused on Jacoby, all levity had left him. Okay, you’ve entertained them. Now I want the real news. How is he?"

Jacoby sighed and tried not to react to how Alex was watching him. I won’t lie. He’s in bad shape. You remember how he was when he came back?

Sure, he was a mess. Thought Alex had dumped him. But he’d lost his job, right?

Yeah, well on top of that they pumped him full of drugs, really bad stuff according to what I heard the medic say. They’re out of his system, but the damage’s done.

Drugs, Kline said, his eyes growing distant. That’s never good stuff.

Jacoby nodded. As you can imagine, they made his situation worse.

Kline had a history with drugs. They were in part what had taken him to Terion Two. You take care of him, Jake, and you bring them both back home where they belong.

"Don’t worry, no matter what happens here, we’re coming home afterward.

Kline nodded and ended the connection.

Alex’s face had grown expressionless during the last part and Jacoby tried to see past it, but the man was completely closed off.

Alex looked back to his screen and continued whatever he’d been doing before.

Do you need me to contact the station? They were so close to it, all he saw on the screen was metal plating. Make arrangements for our stay?

Already dealt with everything that’s needed on the station. We’re not staying there. We’re going groundside.

Jacoby waited. Care to let me in on exactly what you think they can do for Te—Tristan?

Fix him, Alex replied.

So you’ve said before, but you weren’t clear on the how. Samalian isn’t the tech center of the universe. Do they have special psychologists I’ve never heard about?

No.

Jacoby sighed. Alex, give me something here. I want to help, but— It’s a Samalian thing, Alex snapped. The clang of the ship docking

added finality to the words.

He didn’t like this. This was taking a job blind. It didn’t help that Alex was going to be present; none of those he’d taken over his career had ended well. He considered insisting for more information, but Tech came down the ladder.

His fur was damp, and he had pants on. Jacoby hadn’t seen them before, and they didn’t fit exactly right. Something leftover from the old crew? Tech stood behind them, eyes clear and alert.

What’s the status? he asked, his voice firm.

Maybe he was better than Alex thought? He did seem to have shaken off the experience. If that was the case, they could simply start the undocking procedures and go home.

Alex looked over his shoulder and Tech flinched. Jacoby had never seen Tech flinch. He was always quiet, but self-assured. Somehow, in that exchange, the authority had shifted between them, and Tech didn’t know what to do about it.

We’ve docked, Alex replied, back studying the screen. It didn’t feel like he was answering a question, just providing information. I registered us under your Parmalien ID. It’s a nice and unobtrusive one. No one’s going to look at it twice.

Anger flashed in Tech’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. The anger surprised Jacoby more than the indecision. Anger was something he hadn’t thought Tech capable of. He’d seen him pestered by kids past the point where Jacoby would have been screaming at them to leave him alone, but Tech had continued entertaining them. Even when he sent them on their way, it was gently and with a smile.

Jacoby reminded himself Tech had been through a lot recently, and had to make allowances.

Tech glanced to his left and gritted his teeth. We’re going to have to arrange to get planetside. His voice was still firm. Parmalien means mass-transport. He can’t afford a private shuttle.

Why is that important? Jacoby stood. It isn’t like anyone is looking for you right now.

Tech looked at him as if he’d only now realized he was present. The

indecision was back. He opened his mouth, but looked to the left and snapped it shut, as if to keep from snapping at someone. When he looked back at Jacoby, his expression went from hard, to friendly, to hard again, then confused. He looked at the back of Alex’s head.

Jacoby knows about you, Alex said, still studying the screen. He was part of the rescue. He traced a line of code. Actually, he’s known who you were since you started living there. Easy to find out, I believe were the words he used. He typed something.

Tech looked at him, fear in his eyes, then they hardened with anger. Don’t kill him, Alex said, and Jacoby thought there was an unsaid

yet there. He decided it was his imagination. Alex was dealing with his boyfriend being unstable, that was going to affect him—the three of them, actually.

Jacoby headed down the smuggler’s hold to grab his bag. He found Alex’s bag, and took one of the bags leftover from the mercs. He looked through and set aside the med kit, gun, and protein bars. The clothing was too small for Tech, but they would figure something out.

He considered the gun. Something recent that he didn’t recognize, should he bring that? It had been a reflex his time in the military had taught him: always carry a weapon. It had served him well while he was a merc, but this wasn’t a job. He put it down.

He poked his head through the hatch to confirm with Alex that Tech did have his own stuff, and went back down without saying a word. The two of them were staring murder at each other. He’d been taught when he was young to not to get between lovers, and the lesson had stuck.

He went through the other bags until he found one that had clothing that would fit Tech. He removed any personal items, put in the nutrient bars and a few med kits, but no weapons. He decided handing one of those to Tech was a bad idea right now.

He came out, and they were still glaring at each other. No words had been exchanged, and he decided that if he let that continue, they might never leave the ship. He handed each a pack as he passed them to check the communication board for any message the station had sent them, including rules regarding weapons. Guns weren’t allowed, as he’d expected. His own gun was in his shielded case, so he wasn’t worried.

As he turned, Alex was taking off his harness and putting it in his bag.

Tech was going through the cabinets, a few guns already on seats. He took another one. Azeru, Jacoby thought.

Guns aren’t allowed on the station, he said.

Tech didn’t acknowledge him. He looked through the cabinet and took a case from it. He put the gun in it and shoved that in his bag, then turned to look at both of them. We’re heading out. Alex gets us passage on the earliest shuttle. We’re not stopping for anything. We’re not here to sightsee. We’re going to the temple and then we’re leaving, understood?

Jacoby nodded, responding to the tone of command more than the words. Another side of Tech he didn’t know. Alex didn’t react.

Then the words registered. Temple?

Tech turned before he could ask what a temple had to do with any of this. Alex didn’t look like he’d answer anything.

Tech opened the hatch in the ramp, which whined and resisted—a sign this ship hadn’t often docked. On the other side, Tech paused to look at the hatch’s lock, seeming indecisive. Then he continued down the small corridor leading to another hatch.

As they reached that hatch, text appeared before them in SpaceGov Standard. A repeat of what he’d read before exiting. It registered Alex’s knives, and brought a notice stating that LeisureTek didn’t allow knives to be carried in the open for the emotional safety of their customers.

Tristan reached through it before it was done listing the rules, opened the hatch, and stepped through it, only to freeze, blocking the way.

Chapter 03

Well, that hadn’t lasted long.

When Tristan had taken charge, Alex had been hopeful that in spite of all the wincing and lack of apparent confidence, he’d been able to pull himself together. Now it was clear it had been nothing more than a mask, and one that didn’t even hold up to the first problem he encountered.

Alex waited a few seconds, and when Tristan didn’t move out of the hatch, he shoved him, confident that Tristan wouldn’t even raise his voice at this point. It took some strength to move him; the Samalian was a head taller than Alex and out-massed him, but he stumbled forward before going rigid again. Alex squeezed around and saw the problem.

People. Humans, actually, and a lot of them. He wondered where they’d all come from as he turned to face Tristan and cursed. The fear in his eyes wasn’t directed at one person, but flicked from one to the other, as if he was searching through a system infected with malicious programs, looking for a safe path through them, but not finding it.

They didn’t have the time to waste on this. He grabbed Tristan’s arm and pulled him forward, only to have it yanked out and be glared at. Anger was better than fear, but Alex didn’t have any patience for that either.

Don’t touch me, Tristan growled.

Then move. You’re gawking is starting to draw attention. The mass of humans in the concourse, peppered with the occasional Samalian, were glancing in their direction.

I can’t. His mouth moved, but nothing else came out. His eyes were wide, trying to look everywhere at once. They’re… I’m not… He was shaking now.

Alex buried his anger, afraid he was going to hurt someone, desperately wanting to hurt someone. Get back in there. He followed Tristan through the hatch. Keep an eye out, he told Jacoby.

Tristan was resting his head against the wall, hugging himself and mumbling something Alex didn’t understand.

What’s the problem? Alex demanded. Tristan motioned to the open hatch. Talk, he said through gritted teeth.

Tristan glared, then looked away. They’re going to kill me.

Who? Alex looked through the hatch, searching for anyone who looked like they could be a threat.

Them. Tristan motioned at the open hatch again.

Them who? If he didn’t start making sense, Alex was going to take out a knife and—

Them, all of them!

Alex stared at him. "What are you talking about? Are you telling me you’re scared of those weaklings? You can kill all of them without even trying. I can kill them without trying."

Tristan shook his head hard. They’re going to gang up on me, crowd me, bury me under them and tear me to pieces.

Alex had no idea how to respond to that absurdity. They can’t hurt you, he said, trying for reason. They’re weak. I doubt any of them even knows how to handle a knife.

You weren’t there, Alex, Tristan pleaded. You didn’t feel them tearing at your fur, ripping your flesh off your bones. Biting it off, digging their fingers in your eyes, over and over until I died.

That was the drugs, he replied in exasperation. It wasn’t real. Yes, it was!

Okay, fine, then tell me how come you’re here, alive, if they killed you.

The question confused Tristan. He looked at himself, around at the people through the hatch and, while it did nothing to reassure Alex, he nodded.

Come on, let’s go.

No! Tristan recoiled from the hatch.

That’s enough! You’re Tristan, one of the most feared beings in the universe. Stop acting like a scared kid.

Alex, I can’t. They— He was pleading, and the tone made Alex angry. It was a good thing the woman who’d done this to Tristan was dead, otherwise Alex would have made her suffer.

No, he snapped. You don’t get to tell me you can’t do something, not after what you put me through. How often did I tell you I couldn’t do something, commit some atrocity you ordered me to do? You didn’t give me a fucking choice, so you don’t get one either. Shut the fuck up and take control of yourself.

Tristan tried to speak. He ran his hand through his head-fur. When he finally managed to speak, he looked and sounded scared. Alex, I don’t remember how.

Put a fucking mask on, or are you telling me you forgot how to do that too?

Who?

Alex wanted to scream. Tristan was the one who should make the decisions, not him. He noticed Jacoby looking at him and buried his anger, his fear. He certainly couldn’t show him weakness; he’d want to take charge and then have them fly back to Terion Two. How was he going to get his Tristan back if they left now?

Who is Parmalien? He forced his voice to be calm, composed, cold.

It took Tristan a moment to make sense of the question, then his face gained a semblance of control. He’s a merchant. He had a store, groundside. He sells alcohol to the smaller bars. He isn’t there often anymore because he travels so much, looking for new alcohols to bring back. At least it’s what he tells his children; they run the store. The truth is that he can’t stand being around them. Their mother spoils them, so they always argue when he tells them what to do. At least they have a head for business, so even with all the bickering they do amongst themselves, the store keeps going.

Jacoby was staring at him.

So, can Parmalien handle crowds?

Tristan nodded. "He always has to deal with them. The markets, the

stations, the public transits. Then be him."

Tristan looked at his hands, turned them over. My fur’s not right. His is gray with black swirls, I need to—

No, Alex clamped his mouth shut at Tristan’s wince. He was going to kill someone. He buried that desire. That doesn’t matter, he replied calmly. No one here knows who Parmalien is, or what he looks like. You just need to be him.

Tristan looked like he wanted to protest, then his ears folded back. He nodded. He straightened, then slouched. Not in fear, but because of age, Alex realized. Parmalien had a soft gaze and pleasant smile, but his lips trembled with the effort.

Alex motioned for the hatch, making the gesture an invitation, rather than an order. Tristan—Parmalien hesitated, then started walking. Alex took position at one side. Stay by his other side, he whispered to Jacoby. Keep anyone from getting too close; I don’t want him to bolt.

You know, Jacoby said, I know that name, Parmalien. I didn’t place it when you mentioned you’d set the ship as belonging to him, but with the fur color… He’s one of the Samalians I found when I checked Tech out and worked out who he is. How many IDs does he have?

Alex shrugged. A lot. How many are Samalians?

I don’t know. Why are you asking about that?

I only found close to a hundred Samalians traveling in space. Now I’m wondering how many of them are him.

I don’t see that it matters.

I guess it doesn’t, Jacoby said. I was just curious. They fell silent.

Tristan kept hesitating, which gave the impression he had a problem with a foot. He’d hunch in on himself then, as if remember who he was, relaxed.

I can’t believe how much this place looks just like any of the other stations I’ve been on, Jacoby said, and if Alex wasn’t so preoccupied with watching Tristan, he would have reminded him to stay alert. I know the design is standard corporate, but— He pointed to a storefront. "That’s a chain from Firnak, and over there is a store right

out of Sunifok. We’re far enough from everything, I’d have expected there to be more local stuff."

Alex forced himself to look around. It wasn’t like this when I was here.

How long ago?

Alex shrugged. A few objective decades. Give or take. Don’t you keep track?

I tried, but it was too much of a hassle, and it isn’t like I have anyone living only in objective time I keep in touch with. He looked at Tristan, whose hands were shaking, smile turned brittle. He was the only one he had contact with—well, the real Tristan, not this parody, and they lived time the same way.

There weren’t so many humans, Alex said. I felt like the alien, not the other way around. Also, the stores catered to Samalians more than anyone else. It was more a marketplace than, well, whatever this is. He looked around. You’re right, I don’t see anything aimed for Samalians. Tristan flinched, and Alex reached for the knife in his sleeve. He cursed having to pack away his good knives, but it wasn’t a threat that had Tristan about to bolt, just someone bumping against him. There

was no denying it; Tristan was about to lose it.

Why don’t we head over there? Alex suggested, indicating a column on the edge of the concourse where there was almost no one. You can rest, catch your breath.

I can do this, Tristan protested. I’m going to be okay. The words, the tone was all wrong. Alex couldn’t decide if he would scream or cry.

He did neither. He took Tristan’s hand. No, you’re not. You’re shaking, you need a rest. Maybe Tristan couldn’t maintain a mask, but Alex wasn’t going to let him break character and attract attention.

Tristan wasn’t happy as he sat, but Alex’s glare kept him silent. Well. Jacoby was by the column, at a terminal Alex had been too

busy to notice. Now I know why LeisureTek owns this station. Stay here, Alex told Tristan. He joined Jacoby.

Welcome to Samalia, the screen read, the newest vacation destination from LeisureTek. Come experience primitive life, an archaic belief system. Come see the natives endure brutal weather, all in the comfort of LeisureTek’s best recreational hover.

They’re turning this place into a vacation world, Jacoby said in disdain.

It explained the disproportionately large number of humans, and why the stores catered to them. He felt something different from disdain. He felt betrayal. SpaceGov was supposed to keep this from happening. They were supposed to protect local populations from the might of corporations.

He shoved the emotion aside, unable to tell where it had come from. Probably some naïve part of himself that had managed to survive this last decade. This place didn’t matter to Tristan, so it didn’t matter to him. Let the corporation strip it clean, so long as they waited until the two of them were gone.

Tristan was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to himself and rocking in place.

We can’t take a public shuttle, Alex told Jacoby. There’s no telling if he’ll go from being terrified to becoming murderous.

I thought you didn’t care what he did to them. Didn’t you say he could kill them all?

I’m not interested in finding out if he’s going to be able to stop at killing only the people and not blowing up the shuttle while we’re still in it. He can’t be fixed if he’s dead. He took a credit chip from a pocket. There’s enough here to cover something good. He handed it to Jacoby.

Wouldn’t it be better if you took care of that?