The Traveller's Song (pt. 2)

Meara was almost ready to leave when Aeryst came in the next day. She was fully dressed, her hair tied back, and was gingerly pulling her boots on. "I'm ready to go," she announced.

"I can see that," he said, pulling the bandage off her face. "You managed to do your hair."

"Well, no. Gunyla did it. She doesn't do it as well as you do."

"Hold still just a microt. I've got to snip these stitches here." he said matching action to words. He held her face in his fingers and turned it slightly. He still didn't look happy about the results.

Meara picked up a tray and looked at her reflection. A rather angry looking wound made a sickle shape along her cheekbone.

"I can get you a mirror if you'd like."

"No, that's okay," she said, turning her head slowly. "I don't think its so bad. Do you think it makes me look tougher?" She sounded like a kid showing off a skinned knee. "I look too soft. Too many curves and my face is too round. I was hoping it would make me look meaner."

"I don't think so."

"You don't think what?" she asked, confused.

"You could always cut your hair," he suggested. "That would probably make you look a lot-oof," he said, as she whacked him in the stomach.

She grinned at him wickedly. He smiled a little sheepishly and drew back a bit. "You have to come back in sometime in the next couple of days. I want to debride the burns. It'll keep them from getting infected and will prevent scarring. It won't take long, so just drop in when you have time, I'll probably be around."

"What if I don't?" she said teasingly.

"Then you'll get bacteria and it'll get infected and your arm will fall off," he said soberly.

She looked at him doubtfully but didn't challenge him. "Yeah, okay."

She gathered all of her weaponry and headed for the door. Aeryst stayed where he was, tidying up. Meara paused on the threshold and looked back. "Thank you," she said. "I'm very glad you didn't let me die."

He looked up at her and smiled gently. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Meara went straight to her own small room. It was a huge relief to have her own space again. It occurred to her that if she'd been unconscious any longer they'd probably have reassigned her room already. She knew she was short one uniform and in taking stock she realized that her pulse rifle was completely nonfunctional. In thinking about it, she decided that it was surprising that it hadn't blown up. Taking her useless gun, she headed off to requisitions and traded it for a new one. She decided to wait to replace her uniform and went to the Captain's quarters, where to her great surprise she was granted an immediate audience.

Captain Garn appeared to be very happy to see her and gave her a small speech on bravery and self-sacrifice which she would have found very humbling if she'd had a higher opinion of the man. As it was , she managed to maintain decorum and act as if she were given such effusive praise everyday.

"But what you really came here for was to ask where you'll be assigned, wasn't it," he asked, having exhausted his supply of synonyms for courage.

"Yes, sir."

"You'll have a day or two of rest still, and then you'll be assigned something light for the meantime. You're definitely in line for a promotion. You might want to think about what you want, as this might be the only time in your career that you're going to be in a position to influence the direction you'll be taking. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I think so, sir."

"Good. You know, I myself was promoted on the battlefield of Mimtara 7 when we won against overwhelming odds. I will never forget that day. I was in charge of a small group of commandos and we were.."

Meara was trying very hard to look interested. She understood dimly that she was being granted the rare experience of being treated as an equal by her higher-ups but she was getting sleepy again and the story was very boring in the way self- aggrandizing stories usually were. Luckily Captain Garn finished the story while her eyes were still open. He sent her on her way with more effusions that left her wondering if he said that she made the Pleisar Regiment look good, or did he actually say she made him look good?

After a long, refreshing and uninterrupted nap, Meara decided to go to the bar. After looking around and not seeing anyone she knew, she took a chair at a small table and grabbed another chair to put her feet up on.

"Buy you a raslak?" a friendly voice asked. For a microt she thought-but of course, it was Broc. He put the aforementioned drink in front of her and and straddled a chair facing her. "You're out of prison now, eh?'

"Released for bad behavior. They just couldn't stand having me around anymore." She picked up the glass and took a long drink.

"I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I -"

"Forget it. It's over. Is anyone from our unit around? You're the only one I've seen since the accident."

"Most have been reassigned. I'm on Prowler duty."

"You're the only one to come see me," she commented.

"Well, it would have been like visiting the dead. ..sorry."

"They all looked dead the last time I saw them. It would be nice to see them up walking around."

"It's nice to see you up walking around."

"Thanks. Would you like to play some darts? Or we could go do a little target practice?" she asked hopefully.

"No, thanks," Broc shook his head, smiling. "You always win."

"Now would be the time to beat me," she said.

"Actually, that's not what I had in mind," he said leaning closer and gazing at her intensely with his blue-gray eyes. "We aren't crewmates anymore, and I think that we would be really good together."

"We might be crewmates again sometime," she said, taking his hand off her knee and placing it firmly back on the table. "And a good crewmate is much more difficult to find."

He got up to leave. Before he left, he reached out as if to touch the side of her face. She quickly threw up a hand to block him, which she regretted when she saw the hurt in his eyes. "Is that going to stay?" he asked, indicating the half healed cut. She nodded. "I like it," he said quietly. "It will always remind me of what you did."

Meara arrived in the medical bay bright and early the next day. She deposited herself on the examining table and waited, swinging her feet back and forth.

"Take your shirt off," Aeryst said as he gathered supplies. Meara removed her shirt and placed her arm over her head, exposing her left side and underneath her arm.

"You're here early," he commented as he removed the dressing.

"I'm not doing anything else," she shrugged.

"You're going to have to hold still. I'm going to remove the dead skin from your burns. It will feel a little strange, but it won't hurt. There might be a little pain if I hit a sensitive spot."

Meara stopped swinging her feet. She started talking as soon as she stopped moving, as if she had to be doing something. "You were raised in a colony, weren't you?"

"Yes," he said, carefully stripping a long piece of dead skin from under her arm.

"How old were you when you were recruited?"

"Twelve cycles."

He was right. It did feel a little strange. "Isn't that a little late? I thought they recruited younger than that."

"My parents hid me each time the Peacekeepers came around. They didn't want to give me up." He went around her and started working from the back. "One day they were looking for children and I didn't hide when my Mom told me to."

"Why? Did you want to join?" she said, craning her head back to see what he was doing.

"No. I was twelve. I just didn't want to do what my mother told me to."

She couldn't tell what he was doing. All she could see was the top of his head. 'Nice black hair' she thought.

"You know, I can't figure out how you got burned underneath your arm. You must have fallen on your side on something that was burning."

"Number five was on fire".

"What?" His head came up.

"The fifth one I pulled out was on fire."

"I didn't treat anyone else for burns."

"I rolled him around on the grass. It went out."

"It must not have gotten past his suit. It sure did get through yours." He shook his head and went back to work.

"My arm's getting tired," she complained and turned her head towards him again.

"Meara," he said, starting to sound irritated, "this would go a lot faster if you would just hold still!"

"Ow!" she said and her arm came down on his head. She quickly and reflexively brought her right arm around and shoved him away. Seriously off-balance, he grabbed for her to steady himself. and found himself with one arm around her waist, her arm around his shoulders, and one hand clasping her right breast firmly. Meara put her other arm around his neck and slid further into his arms, curving her entire body towards his.

"Sorry," he said, removing his hand , and disentangling himself. She made a little sound of protest when he unwrapped her arms from around him. "Maybe I should have Gunyla finish." He picked up a white coat and handed it to her, and started to leave. She wrapped it around her shoulders and looked back at him. He stopped and turned around to look at her. Meara smiled over her shoulder at him. Aeryst shook his head at her, but he smiled back.

"You don't have to come back...you're better now," he said and left, leaving her looking after him uncertainly.

Several days later Meara was throwing darts by herself. She was feeling a little lonely and out of sorts. She had started to get back into the swing of things but she missed the camaraderie of her old unit. She had also found to her dismay that her stamina was still low and she spent a good part of each day exercising, trying to rebuild her strength. The rest of her time was spent thinking about Aeryst. She did not realize consciously that she spent that much time thinking about him, but he kept popping into her thoughts. What she missed most was having someone around who actually listened to everything she said. She had been trying to decide whether to do anything about it. After all, she really didn't know if he wanted to see her again or not. It wouldn't have been difficult for him to find her if he wanted to.

She had started playing a game with herself. If the dart landed in the black, she would go see him. If it landed in the red, she wouldn't. The first one landed in the red, but she decided it didn't count and threw again. The second one landed in the red. This was too much. Usually she hit what she was aiming at, but maybe this meant she really didn't want to see him. She went to pull the dart out of the board and in her frustration yanked too hard. It came out of the board quickly and sliced her finger with one of the razor sharp double edges. 'That must be a yes' she thought as she grabbed something to wrap it with.

Meara came into the medical bay with a rag around her hand. She was dressed in full uniform except for the long flowing hair loose about her face and shoulders.

"Officer Sun," Aeryst greeted her with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I hurt my finger," she said, holding out the aforementioned digit. She took a seat on the edge of the examining table, removing her pulse rifle and placing it carefully behind her. The med-tech came over and unwrapped her finger, giving it a quick glance. His blue eyes sparkled as he said, "Big tough soldier couldn't take care of that herself?"

She looked serious as she replied, "It could get bacteria in it and fall off, couldn't it? I wouldn't want to take any chances."

"Well, it doesn't need stitches," he said as he procured some antiseptic and a bandage. He dropped to his haunches in front of her and took her hand in his. She leaned her forehead against his lightly as he cleaned and covered the wound. He looked into her big, dark eyes as he lightly kissed the injured finger.

"What was that for?" she breathed, as little shivers traveled from her finger to her spine.

"To make it feel better," he answered. Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled at him.

"You don't need to have an excuse to see me, Meara, " he said.

"I don't?" she asked. She drew her head back a little and looked at him appraisingly. "How come you never asked?"

"Asked what?" he said, rubbing the back of her hand gently with his thumb.

"If I wanted to recreate with you," she said, as if it was a matter of little consequence but some curiosity.

He bowed his head and examined the hand he'd been holding. Taking her other hand in his, he looked up at her questioning face.

"I didn't want to be like everyone else," he said, as if it were a matter of much consequence and very little mystery. There was something wistful in his eyes that she wasn't sure she understood.

"You aren't," she said emphatically, shaking her head a little . She looked at him with her eyes wide and her lips slightly open. It was an invitation he couldn't refuse. He rose up to kiss her. He had intended to kiss her tenderly, but the way she yielded to his touch brought passion to the kiss. He broke it off quickly before he found himself on top of the examining table with her.

"I'd better go," she said, her eyes glazed and her voice a little strange. She picked up her pulse rifle and hopped off the examining table. She gave him a little triumphant smile and promptly walked into the scanner that was close to the table, banging her head. An involuntary " ow" followed.

He was grinning widely at her as he said, "I told you, you don't need an excuse."

She glared at him and left.

Meara was heading off to Aeryst's quarters. She had not been surprised when he had whispered an invitation in her ear half an arn earlier. She stopped long enough to undo her hair and brush it out, then let herself into the door that she had been told would be open. Aeryst was sitting at a small table frowning over a bowl that he was dropping something into. "Come on in," he said without looking up.

Meara came into the room and climbed on his lap, putting her arms around his neck.

"Meara, I'm not done.." He stopped when he saw her face. She was looking at him with a serious but very sexy look. He pushed the bowl away and put his arms around her waist.

"Maybe I'm not making myself clear," she said determinedly, picking up his hand and placing it on the front of her jacket. He removed his hand from hers and ran his fingers through her hair. He kissed her very delicately and tenderly and said, "It's not that I don't want you, Meara, but I have no intention of taking you to bed tonight."

She climbed off with a look of shock on her face and sat down. She was staring at him with some degree of suspicion, wondering what he could possibly have asked her to come there for, when he said, "I made you something to eat."

"You made me something to eat," she said.

"It's mint soup. It's a little hot, so I've been trying to get it to cool off. I guess we could eat the other stuff first." He started pouring the soup into a smaller bowl in front of her.

"Do you have a kitchen in your quarters?" she asked, still looking slightly off-balance.

"No, I use the lab. It's got all the necessary equipment for cooking as well as chemistry."

Now the look of suspicion was directed at the soup. She picked up her spoon and stirred, looking carefully at what was floating in the bowl. He noticed her careful inspection and said, "It's just soup. Nothing from the medical bay in it. I don't even use the same utensils, I promise."

'Great,' she thought, 'at least someone's amused. And the food's good'. She dug in with gusto. After a few hundred microts of silence, she slowed down and peeked up at him. He looked perfectly content to be eating in silence with her.She stared at him for several microts and realized that she didn't have the slightest idea how to handle this situation. "What is it?" he asked.

"I have no idea what to talk about," she admitted.

"What did you do today?"

"Flight instruction. They've got me teaching prowlers to young recruits. 13, 14 cycles, some of them. Do you really want to hear about it?" she asked.

"Sure. How do you like it?"

"Well..it's hard to believe I was ever that young. And some of them are really dumb. I mean, there are a few that have something under their helmets, but.." she was relaxing more as she warmed to her subject. He kept smiling and making encouraging comments. Suddenly she stopped and looked at him. "Have you ever been up in a prowler?" she asked.

"No. Never been in anything faster than a transport pod."

"I'll take you. Let's go," she said, pushing her empty plate away and getting to her feet.

"You're kidding me, right? Can you do that?'

"I can take the prowler out on my own recognizance."

"What about me? I don't want you getting into trouble." He was shaking his head.

"Nobody'll notice. If they do, we'll just say that you're a tech going on a test flight."

"Unless your prowler has a broken bone, I don't think I'd be much help."

"Come on," she said, wheedling. "You'll love it. It's better than sex."

Aeryst had enjoyed the ride and only laughed when she made a determined effort to make him lose his soup. He had asked if anyone ever recreated in flight, and Meara had told him that while she had heard stories, she didn't believe them. She explained that Prowlers did not have an automatic pilot, and had to be flown by someone every minute of the flight. She told him that she was quite sure that if anyone tried it, they would end up plastered on the side of an asteroid.

Life since then had consisted of stolen moments and sneaking around. Meara and Aeryst had gotten quite adept at finding time to be together and keeping track of each others schedules. Aeryst insisted on feeding her every once in a while and he introduced her to a strategy game played with markers on lines drawn on the table that he said came from his home planet. She picked it up quickly and soon became a cutthroat competitor. A conversation about strategy lead to a discussion of the discrepancy between what they were taught in Peacekeeper training and history. Meara was amazed to discover that he was right. The history readily available in the data banks was quite different from what she had been taught as a child. She spent hours on her own pouring over battle campaigns and histories of wars.

If Meara had thought about it to herself, which she carefully avoided doing, she would probably have said that what she liked best were the long slow kisses at the end of their times together. Another thing she would never have admitted to herself is that she was happy. If she had been forced to examine her own behavior, she would have said that she had gone a little farbotz. She certainly had never seen anyone else act this way, which was reason enough to keep it very, very secret. The only problem she had was that she had started intensive commando training and hadn't told Aeryst about it.

Meara was looking forward to telling Aeryst about a history of the Illanic wars she had found when she went to the medical bay that night. She was disappointed when Aeryst answered the door. "Not tonight, I have an emergency and I'm alone here."

She tried to hide her disappointment. "What kind of emergency is it?"

"It's a patient. I'm sorry, but I have to get back to her quickly."

"Can I do anything to help?"

"Do you really want to?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Come in and I'll tell you what you can do."

Aeryst sat down and started working on a luxan female who was lying nude on the table. "Go wash your hands and put on a smock and gloves," he said, without looking up. "Wait," he called as she headed towards the basin. "Put your hair back, put on the smock, wash your hands very thoroughly, and then put on the gloves."

Meara came back with a ponytail and gloved hands. "How do I look?" she asked.

"Cute," he said, glancing quickly at her.

"Does that mean I did it right?"

"Yeah. Sit right there and get the tweezers. Are you okay with blood?"

"Are you joking?"

"You'd be surprised at how many soldiers have a problem with squeamishness if they aren't in the heat of battle. You'd also be surprised at how many of them are big babies when they get hurt. Not you," he amended quickly.

"She's not dead, is she?" Meara said, looking at the woman on the table.

"If she were, there wouldn't be anything left for me to do," he said dryly. "She's just asleep."

"Alright. Tell me what you want me to do," she said, picking up the tweezers.

"I want you to look over every bit of the skin on her back and remove any glass you find, and put it in the basin. Try to take it out very carefully, we don't want to do more damage coming out than it did going in. If you find a particularly deep wound, let me handle it."

"What happened to her? Is it ok for me to talk?" Meara asked, observing that Aeryst was removing long slivers of glass from the Luxans legs and buttocks.

"Someone threw her through a glass divider. Then they decided they still needed information from her, so they brought her to me."

"So she's a prisoner then. She must have done something wrong to be in prison."

"Do you really think she did anything to deserve this?" Aeryst asked, not angrily, but in a very carefully neutral voice.

"Of course not," Meara said casually, becoming intent on what she was doing. "When I have my own command, I'm not going to let my soldiers get away with mistreatment of prisoners."

"I didn't know you had ambitions."

"Well," she said, very carefully removing a sliver and placing it in the bowl, "When you're a grunt, you have to obey orders, whether they make sense or not. If you're in charge, you have a great deal more decision making capability."

"And you don't always agree with the orders you're given."

She looked over at him before answering. "No. I don't. I think I could do better."

While Aeryst was pondering this, Meara asked, "Why isn't there more blood?"

"Luxans don't bleed freely. If she were Sebacean, she'd be dead already. Do you know anything about Luxans?"

"No. I've heard they're fierce fighters." Silence fell for a few moments as they both concentrated on what they were doing. Aeryst looked up for a moment and observed Meara working on the patient. Her hair being pulled back exposed the lovely sweep of her neck as she concentrated, a small smile curving her lips. She noticed that he was watching her and turned her head to look at him and smiled. When her eyes met his he thought his heart would stop beating. Meara serenely returned to what she was doing.

"What's the blood look like?" Aeryst asked.

"It's kind of pink?" She said uncertainly.

"Good," he said, and raised his clenched fist and brought it down forcefully on the back of the Luxan's thigh. Without thinking, Meara was between him and the unconscious woman before he could deliver his next blow. He narrowly avoided hitting her as she threw herself across the woman's legs.

"What are you doing?!" she yelled.

"Dren, Meara, I almost hit you," he gasped. He looked at her shocked face and laughed.

Convinced he was mad, Meara looked at him suspiciously. "What's so funny?"

"You," he said. "You're going to protect this Luxan against me."

"It's not funny. You could have warned me you were going to do something like that," she said resentfully.

"I'm sorry. The blood has to run clear or she'll die."

"Well, I'm not going to apologize," she snapped at him and got out of his way. He continued stimulating the blood until it flowed clearly, and spent some time examining each cut to make sure the blood was clear. Then he scanned for glass shards. Looking satisfied, he got out an instrument that looked like a small awl and started stitching the larger cuts. Meara decided to wash the sticky clear blood off the patient but she was still quiet.

"I'm almost done," he said. "You still mad at me?"

She shook her head. She was still feeling a little shaky and her head was spinning. For one awful moment, she had seen him as like every other Peacekeeper she had ever met and she didn't like it. As she calmed down, she realized that Aeryst was still the person that she thought he was and that it was her perception of the event that was wrong.

"What's going to happen to her now?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"She'll go back to the prison ship," he said soberly. "I'm not sure that we should have saved this one. I'm not sure that she would consider her life worth living.'

"You did it anyway."

"Well, there's always hope," he said and looked at her with a weary smile.

Meara started to take off her gloves and remove the smock.

"Maybe you could stay longer," Aeryst suggested without looking up. "I'm very nearly finished."

Meara did not reply. Aeryst took off his white coat and gloves and came over to her. He looked her directly in the eye. "I was wondering if you would stay the night."

Meara hesitated. For some reason, she wasn't at all sure she wanted to do that. But he looked very tired and in need of comfort.

"Just tonight?"

She bit her lip and nodded. Then she said warmly, "I'll meet you in your room.."

Meara was feeling nervous as she waited. It wasn't like she hadn't wanted him from the beginning, but now she was feeling a little uneasy. She looked around the room that had become very familiar to her and wondered if she should get undressed or not. Should she wait on the bed or sit on the chair? She sat on the bed and took her hair down and started brushing it. The familiar action was comforting.

Aeryst came in and sat down on the chair and started taking his boots off.

"How"s the patient?" Meara asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"She's fine. Gunyla's with her."

Meara raised one eyebrow at him.

"It's ok," he said with a grin, "This patient's not going anywhere right now. You know, you're a better assistant than Gunyla."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Alright. You're a much better assistant than Gunyla." Having removed his boots, he leaned back in the chair, stretched out his legs and wiggled his toes. He looked supremely happy to have his shoes off and in no hurry to move. He watched Meara brushing her hair with her eyes on the floor. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.

"No, you aren't," she denied.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said.

She looked up at him with a hurt look in her big brown eyes. "Don't you want me?"

"More than anything," he said and he came to the bed and sat down behind her. He put his arms around her and she leaned into him. He held her closely for a long time and asked, "Did you take your hair down for me?"

"I thought you liked it that way."

"I do," he said and buried his face in it. She was totally relaxed and closed her eyes. He moved her soft, silky hair aside and kissed her shoulder. She tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. Aeryst traveled up her neck with hot kisses and she turned her head so he could reach her mouth. He kissed her deeply and reverently. She turned around to face him and they wrapped their arms around each other.Still kissing her, he pulled at her tanktop. They had to stop kissing long enough to get it over her head. She shrank back a little when it came off. Aeryst pulled her to him and whispered, "It's okay, Meara, I've seen with your clothes off, remember? I already know how beautiful you are."

Later, as Meara was laying on her side with Aeryst's arms wrapped around her, a random thought entered a mind that was barely functioning. "I take it back," she said drowsily. "This was better than flying...'

"Was that a compliment?' just as drowsily.

"Okay. It was much better than flying."