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“You won’t.” She gazed at him levelly, glad he’d taken her observations so well thus far. Maybe he’d be okay with one more. “You need to think about the life you have here versus the life you want to lead, Doljen. You taught me we can’t hide from who we are or our pasts. We can’t change what happened. Only what comes next.”
* * * *
Tumsa was strolling theRogue’scorridors when Bernadette strode into view. Her hair wasn’t in the sensible bun he’d seen her wear before. The mass of curls bounced against her shoulders. Her clothing wasn’t the crisp uniform she sported as the ship’s captain, but loose outdoor wear. It somehow made her appear more approachable, though she continued to radiate strength. His groin gave an agreeable throb. He ignored it as best he could.
“Tumsa, you were there when Fod’s crew tried to start trouble?” She stopped in front of him.
“Yes, Captain.” He could smell a Kalquorian male on her. It had to be Doljen. The scent of sex she was probably unaware she carried scrambled his senses. He fought to control his reaction. “They were the aggressors and trying to bait Kom and Halmiko into fighting by insulting you.”
“Let me guess; they accused me of sleeping around for the choicest cargos. That shouldn’t have set Kom off. He’s used to them playing that game.”
“It appeared to me that was what got him angry.”
“He isn’t in a great frame of mind these days. Boyfriend troubles,” she explained, though Tumsa hadn’t asked.
“Halmiko would have been offended if Kom wasn’t. He’s formed an attachment to you, if you hadn’t noticed.” A flare of jealousy spiked. What was with him? Tumsa barely knew Bernadette. Maybe if she hadn’t been standing there looking and smelling so damned enticing…
“Sweet prophets, that’s just what I need,” she sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched, as if the thought of the Nobek’s affection woke a smile. “Where is that brute? I forgot to ask Kom.”
“They fought to burn off the excess rage, then Kom sent him to guard the last of the cargo that hasn’t been offloaded yet.”
“With Burken and Dakmo patrolling outside?”
“Kom thought with Fod’s crew pushing the threat, it would be best to have someone watching the bay itself.”
“Kom is usually right.” She gazed up at him. “I guess you have questions?”
“If you don’t mind?”
“Let’s do this privately. Word spreads fast on this ship with such a small crew, but we can keep your clan business quiet for as long as possible.”
He appreciated her discretion and followed her to her quarters. The two rooms were small and spare, no-nonsense in decoration, much like her. He stood as far from her bedroom as possible, doing his utmost to ignore the scent of his Nobek added to Doljen’s.
“Shoot,” she invited him, opening her closet and taking a uniform out.
“How is he? Healthy?” He couldn’t bear to ask if Doljen was happy. He didn’t want his Imdiko to be suffering, but the idea he’d found joy in life without Tumsa was too much to deal with.
“He’s okay. Not great. But okay.” She considered, her gaze distant. “He’s in good health. He lives in a shitty little cabin that’s cold at night and hot during the day. He hunts and fishes and trades for what he needs to live. He’s respected by a community that has nothing to do with the world outside its borders. He’s lonely and pathetically sad, but refuses to admit how bad it is.”
Tumsa swallowed. Maybe it would have been better to hear Doljen had moved on after all.
He’s unhappy because of me. My poor Imdiko. How can I ever fix this for him?
Bernadette hung the uniform and a button-down shirt from a hook. Then she stood in front of him. “Okay, I’ve heard from everyone but you. What went down? You keep saying how cruel you were to him and Hal.”
“Cruel? I was far worse. Vicious. Venomous.” If words could physically injure, Tumsa’s would have killed his clanmates.
* * * *
Eight years prior
Tumsa set his travel bin on the floor inside the door to his clan’s apartment. Their home for nine years, he knew it from top to bottom. The trophy case was added to each year, the wall full of vid awards, news articles, still photos constantly changing, but for the most part, he could have closed his eyes and seen it in perfect detail.
He glanced around, and though familiar, it seemed alien. As if everything had shifted. Maybe no more than an inch, but it was off-kilter all the same.
He stood there, staring at the space. He was frozen, unable to take another step. He wasn’t even sure he breathed. A remote part of him was glad one of his fathers was too injured to travel, that his Dramok father and mother had remained behind to care for him. His Nobek father had come to the city with Tumsa to claim Zakla’s body, but he’d agreed to stay at an inn rather than visit the clan’s home.
Halmiko arrived in the greeting room on silent feet. He paused halfway into the room, his features an agonized mask. Grief was etched in the lines Tumsa didn’t remember the Nobek’s face having.
