Zaen stalked toward a closed-lipped and scowling Dhevun, trying to block out the sound of Caeryssa shattering. He'd done that. Forced her to acknowledge the raw, ugly truth at the heart of her family. His skin tightened as if too small for his muscles, her choked-out words and whispered plea replaying in his thoughts. He glared back at his bodyguard as he passed into the hall. It wasn't like he'd made her father into an assassin. The fucker had chosen his career all on his own, way before Zaen existed.

Maybe the asswipe should have thought about a career change when he found his soulmate and had a daughter, instead of dragging them down into the muck with him. Zaen's heart twisted. She'd been looking at him, lusting after him, and he'd bloody well shattered her like plucking the damned petals off a flower and crushing it. His fists clenched.

Shards, if only he had time to—

Fuck it. He detoured from his bedroom to the large workout space tucked down the hall at the far end of the suite. Stretching as he walked, he made his way over to a sparring droid. All black with cushioning to mimic flesh, it could fight in numerous styles and at different levels of experience. "Activate," he ordered as he stepped into the circular control ring embedded into the floor. "Expert level, Dragon's Fist."

The droid bowed and crouched into a ready position.

Not holding back, Zaen flew at it with a series of punches and kicks that had the droid immediately on the defensive. A sweat soon covered his body as he attacked, and attacked again with the droid managing to deflect each one, as well as launch a few of its own.

Finally, he slipped through the droid's vigorous defence.

Zaen's foot connected with the droid's midsection, sending it flying across the ring to impact against the control barrier in an electric hum, holding it in place and preventing the droid from leaving the arena.

The blank-faced droid rose and again moved into the ready position. However, instead of waiting for Zaen to take the initiative, it launched its own series of punches and kicks. Back and forth, across the ring and around, they traded blows until Zaen grunted as his elbow block missed and the droid landed a teeth-rattling punch to his jaw.

Zaen stepped back, wiggling his painful jaw. That damned droid had cracked the bone. Heat welled within his lower face. Already his nanites rushed to repair the damage.

Still, he didn't want to be covered in bruises when he dealt with Caeryssa's father.

"Disengage," he ordered the droid as he stepped out of the ring.

And that was the problem, he mused as he headed to his bedroom and a much-needed shower. He no longer thought of the assassin simply as Karzen Hawke. He was her father, not just the one-dimensional bad guy Zaen had hated for ten star cycles. The bastard had a soulmate—Caeryssa's mother. Could he risk killing Karzen and hope Aya didn't die? But even at that, he'd felt the agony of the bond with Caeryssa attempting her escape. To put Aya through that for the rest of her days? Was that justice?

He'd been prepared to infuriate the guild, but making an innocent woman suffer that agony for the rest of her life? Especially when it was his little sprite's mother? With the water on, he scrubbed at his hair and face, trying to come to a decision.

Although he'd told her thirty minutes, it was closer to an hour and a half by the time he emerged from his bedroom. Clean, in boots, black leather pants, and a matching leather vest with a royal blue tunic underneath, he'd added his vambraces and usual hidden weapons around his body. If Karzen tried something, Zaen would be ready.

Caeryssa sat quietly on a silver couch near the entrance of the suite. Face cleaned and staring at the marble floor, nothing gave away her previous breakdown. In a silver shipsuit that clung to her curves, a black sleeveless, ankle-length duster, and her boots, her outfit complimented her sapphire skin. She was the living image of his mother's Sigma Draconis familial line colours—the same colours he preferred. She was fierce, his little hellion, his soulmate, and someone he was sure his mother would have approved of to keep him in line.

Shards, how was he ever going to make it work with so much between them? He held out his hand. "Let's go," he ordered. Would she take his hand? Was there hope for them to move past this?

She stared at his extended fingers for ten seconds which felt like ten agonizing minutes, but when she finally placed her hand in his, the tension in his chest eased a fraction.

Dhevun moved in front of them, with several more of his security team falling in around them as they left the suite. Neither Zaen nor his security had forgotten that someone in the palace wanted him dead. They weren't going to get a second chance. The team cleared hallways ahead of them and shut down gravlifts so they were the only ones aboard and their stops were the only ones allowed.

In short order, they'd reached the armoured all-terrain utility vehicles, the only kind Dhevun was comfortable using on-planet. Rugged, dependable, and able to withstand direct impact with a gravity torpedo or an oathbreaker mine, Zaen wasn't about to argue with him. Especially not with Caeryssa at risk if something happened to him. He helped her into the centre and joined her as Dhevun divided the security team amongst the five vehicles.

Instead of sitting across from her as he had on the way to the palace, Zaen sat beside her, keeping hold of her hand. She made no move to withdraw. Was that a good sign? Or did it just mean she was beyond caring about anything around her right now? She stared out the window, away from him.

As they flew to the spaceport and royal hangar, he considered and discarded discussion topics. What kind of small talk wouldn't be completely inane? Hey, I'm about to torture and kill your father, but let's talk about Penates fashion, shall we? Fuck. Maybe no conversation was the better choice until this ugly business was over.

They landed and entered the hangar without anyone the wiser. For this trip, he was keeping it quiet. As far as the paparazzi knew, he was still in his suite in the palace. His crew had the Nemesis prepped and ready to go. The ramp descended as he and Caeryssa neared the ship. They headed to the bridge, letting Dhevun and his security team close the cargo hatch once they were aboard.

The grey door to the bridge swished open at his approach.

"You are welcome to sit at any of the seats except mine," he told Caeryssa as he reluctantly released her hand to let her explore.

She nodded, still not talking.

He tried to see the space from her perspective. Despite the size of the ship, only four stations comprised the bridge, making it more compact than would be typical. From his command chair, he could control everything, but below him, on another level, there were individual stations for a pilot or navigator, Dhevun's weapons' position, and a communications and sensors' specialist, empty without Emmed onboard. Zaen didn't need the complication of his best friend and Caeryssa together right now, on top of everything else. Dealing with Emmed's fury and hurt at being left out of the coming confrontation would have to come later. The large, curved view screen currently projected the view from the front of the craft, but Zaen could switch it to any angle. As he took his seat, holographic displays hovered at his fingertips, but without crewmen in the other seats, those displays remained on standby.

After trailing her fingers over the consoles, activating each one and letting them fall back into standby, Caeryssa finally sat at the pilot's station, directly below and with her back to him. He'd hoped to converse with her, but no, her choice was clear and at least for right now, he'd respect it. He'd pushed her far enough already.

Zaen activated shipwide coms. "Attention, all hatches and stations secured. Boost in two minutes." He checked the status of the engine, fuel, and environmentals. "Mira, confirm Nemesis pressurized and ready for launch?"

"Yes, Captain. All hatches secured. Internal pressure at one atmosphere."

He entered their destination and confirmed. "Punch it."

The ship launched into the sky, roaring for the geostationary orbital platform centred directly overhead. With both an air and space-capable fleet and a force shield that descended to enclose the palace and capital city in times of crisis, the Royal Guardsmen Space Platform provided the first line of defence for the ruling family. It also contained high-security interrogation cells for the Military Intelligence Section and had a series of impound docks like the one which currently held the Basilisk.

He landed the Nemesis in the reinforced dock reserved for the royal family, then held his hand out for Caeryssa. Again, eyes down, she took it without a word, following beside him as he led her through his ship and out. Stars, but he hated how silent she was, like a shadow of her usual self. Dhevun and his security team fell in around them, despite the red and gold-garbed Guardsmen who had shown up to escort the prince.

"Thank you, Commander Rennick," Zaen said, acknowledging the blond officer waiting for him. "Please lead the way to dock seventeen."

Rennick bowed. "Very good, Sarru." He turned and set off down an institutional grey hallway.

"No one has attempted to enter the craft?" Zaen verified.

"No, Sarru. It was clamped in place and a vacuum has been maintained around it since then."

Zaen grunted. "Effective."

They reached an airlock door with a large black seventeen written on it.

"Please let me initialize the atmosphere first, Sarru," Rennick said, flicking buttons on the wall near the airlock. "As soon as the pressure equalizes, we can enter."

The thick door slid open, and they entered the cold dock.

"Thank you, Commander. Station your men around the ship, but do not enter. I'm dealing with this personally."

"Very good, Sarru." 

Rennick barked orders and his men dispersed throughout the vast dock and the aging freighter with its mismatched silver, black, and rust-orange hull plating. Two stubby wings jutted from the blocky body that resembled a bumble bee in its ungainly shape. Thruster pods on each wing were dented and scored as if maintenance was the last thing on Karzen's mind. How did this rusted monstrosity even fly? Could it deal with the rigours of planetary reentry? The damned thing looked like it would shake apart and burn up.

Zaen and Caeryssa walked to the Basilisk cargo hatch at the rear of the freighter, Dhevun accompanying them. "Keep the team guarding the hatch and airlock exit. I want you guarding our back here at the hatch," Zaen murmured to Dhevun, giving him a long look. The prince hadn't forgotten that someone in the palace wanted him dead. What better way than to vent the atmo and make it seem like an accident.

Dhevun inclined his head, a small twist of his lips his sign of approval. Of course, Dhevun suspected the potential for betrayal. He was a suspicious bastard, which was why he was such a damned good bodyguard.

Dhevun instructed the team as Caeryssa entered a code on a hidden panel near the hatch. Zaen's chest tightened. Was she warning her parents? He'd not allowed her datastream access since he'd taken her from Oenone. It wouldn't matter. Shield dampeners in these specially designed bays prevented the activation of a ship's weapons or shields. Karzen Hawke wasn't—

The hatched beeped, then a small hiss of air escaped as the hatch opened and a ramp descended.

Zaen blinked, then stood straighter and quirked an eyebrow at Caeryssa. For the first time since he'd forced her to face the truth at the dining table, she met his gaze. His breath froze into ice crystals that pierced his lungs and drove shards into his heart.

Her beautiful stormy grey eyes that had held the endless mysteries of the universe, so deep and full of emotion, were a flat, lifeless slate.

"You wanted into the ship and there was no point in cutting it open when I know the code," she said in a monotone.

Zaen swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. He didn't want this for her. Never this. Heat burned behind his eyes. Unable to find words to answer her, he nodded jerkily and slowly stepped onto the ramp and into the ship's cargo hold. In a daze, he barely took in his surroundings until an angry snarl halted him mid-step.

"What the fuck did you do to my daughter, you bastard?"

Karzen Hawke, with those same grey eyes as his daughter, glared at him from the airlock door of the cargo bay. In all black matte armour and a pulse rifle in his hands, it was clear he was prepared to fight if needed.

Zaen raised his arms from his sides, showing his empty hands. "We have things we need to discuss."

"I asked what the fuck you did to my daughter, asshole!" Karzen snarled, not lowering the rifle.

Caeryssa shoved past Zaen and pushed into her father's face. "He told me the truth, asshole."

Karzen blanched and lowered his rifle away from his daughter, and she slapped her hands on his chest and shoved.

"Get out of my way. I'm going to see Mom," she snapped.

Zaen almost laughed at the sight of this deadly assassin completely disarmed by a pixie half his size. Caeryssa slipped past him when her father staggered back a step.

Zaen grinned, delighted to hear her temper. Stars, anything was better than that lifeless monotone. "She packs a punch for such a tiny thing, doesn't she?"

Karzen met his gaze, shook his head, and a wry grin appeared. "Her mother is the same way." He stepped to the side and scrubbed at his face. "Fuck. Well, you'd better come in."

Putting his back to Karzen made Zaen's neck itch, but it was obvious the man loved his daughter. Still, tension sang in his muscles as he stepped past the assassin he'd hunted for ten cycles.

"Lounge is third door on the left," Karzen directed.

Worn black carpeting muffled their footsteps. Open pipes overhead and blackened streaked walls betrayed the years of use. Despite his need for vengeance, his curiosity bloomed. This was where Caeryssa had grown up, had spent the years of her childhood before being sent to that boarding academy on Alycone. If only these walls could talk and share stories. She'd shared so little of herself with him.

Zaen entered the lounge to find two white-blond heads pressed together, pale arms around blue as mother and daughter comforted each other. Aya was no taller than her daughter and when she raised her head to glare with icy blue eyes, he recognized the look as one Caeryssa had given him more than once. While she got her eyes from her father, everything else of her features was definitely from her mother.

"Caeryssa and I are going to go catch up. You two are way overdue for a conversation," Aya directed her glare at her mate. "Make it right," she snarled as she guided Caeryssa from the room with an arm wrapped around her.

(2572 words)