150: The Lovers; Reversed – Three
Dinner with the crew of the Gorgon had been a delight, and thankfully one that had not ended with anyone getting too plastered to function. A sound sleep and a hearty breakfast were enough to get everyone back in working order, and once the rest of the training and exercises of their morning routine were completed, everyone aboard the Pelekys quickly agreed to catch a matinee showing of whatever play Viatrix wanted to watch.
"V'tala's got her thing tonight, and we don't know when we're going to have to book it for this hunting fleet that Phoebe was mentioning at dinner, so we may as well get all our affairs in order now while we have the chance." Malakh had reasoned, and no one had an argument against that kind of sense.
The play in question was a Thalatte production, ironically enough: The Gift of The Lovers. One of the oldest known plays from Thalatte antiquity, it recounted the history, through song and dance, of two people from two warring tribes, young hunters who, during a coming of age ritual, crossed paths when they tracked down the same deadly predator that had been ravaging their peoples. Alone, they would have died, but together they overcame this foe, splitting the carcass and returning home, never thinking that they would see each other again.
But both of the young adults, in recognition of their hunting prowess, were given the duties of border wardens, patrolling their tribes' lands in search of threats trying to encroach upon their territories. The two hunters crossed paths again and again and again as the years went by, kindred spirits who eventually became lovers, despite their tribes' antagonism towards each other.
The years went on, and the love between these two only ever grew stronger, the both of them making half baked plans to run away with one another, but so dutiful to their people that they never made good on them. Eventually, the old leaders died, and new ones took their place, radicals who began working towards peace and alliances with their neighbours, instead of open conflict. For the Lovers, this news opened the path to a future that neither of them had dared to dream of, and so they urged their people towards peace.
All was not to go according to their wishes, however. Trouble had been brewing across their land, something that had prompted their leadership to seek out peace - a Hierophant was on the march, conquering tribes and bringing them under their sway, killing those who would not bend the knee, and enslaving the rest. Alone, the two tribes would surely fall, but together? Together, there was a hope for survival.
Respectively their people's most trustworthy agents, the Lovers were each sent out to bring the other tribe summons to peace talks, and after spending one last night together, they brought their peoples together.
Treachery accompanied the meeting, in the form of the Hierophant themself, and their deadliest fighters.
In a sneak attack that should have seen the two tribes vying for peace wiped out, the Hierophant and their entourage struck, and it was only thanks to the martial prowess of the two Lovers that their own leaders were able to survive the assault, rally their people, and together crush the Hierophant who had come to conquer them. But this victory came at great cost, the Lovers having given their lives to ensure that their people would remain free.
Mourning this loss, this sacrifice, the two leaders of the disparate tribes sealed the peace between them by wedding each other then and there, unifying their tribes and taking the name Hindan (which meant "hunter" in an ancient Thalatte dialect) as their own. The Hindan Dynasty would then go on to reign for generations, in a long era of peace that the Thalatte had never seen the likes of again. The Lovers were laid to rest side by side in the same grave, together in death as they had been denied in life, their souls intertwined for all time.
"That was a lot more bittersweet than I thought it would be," Viatrix said as they emerged into the warm golden glow of the Quanvengier's interior, all of them blinking from the darkness that the theatre had been cast in for the performance, "The Lovers got their union, but they never lived to enjoy it."
"The irony of what that play was about is what's most bittersweet for me," Rhea huffed, "A time of peace, of growth and unity the likes of which the Thalatte have yet to repeat. I did a little research beforehand, and the social and technological advances brought about during the Hindan Dynasty's reign are relatively leaps and bounds over what they accomplished during any of their periods of conflict. And now here they are, on a galactic scale, playing the part of the Hierophant instead of the Lovers. For a play so beloved by their people, Thalatte leadership sure as fuck hasn't taken the lesson of it to heart."
"And they really did love this," Pryseia said, still misty eyes from the performance, "That was the most well performed play I've seen from Kith players, more in lines with what the professional actors on Osatiawjo delivered rather than the more hobbyist approach from the other productions we've seen here on the Quanvengier. They, at least, seemed to resonate with the message of this tale."
Harshly rubbing at her eyes, Elytra's voice was thick with tears as she said, "All those actors were fully committed. They were living and breathing those roles, not just running through lines. It honestly felt more like a Koleopteran play, with how loud their emotions were. Can we stop somewhere for something stupidly sweet? That absolutely wrecked me."
"And that's what good art is about!" Viatrix nudged her drone into Elytra's shoulder, "Across time, across languages, across species, and it can still move us enough to consume medically questionable amounts of something to deal with it! This is what the people of the galaxy should be focusing all their energy on, not war! I just don't understand!"
"You aren't alone in that," Nevara said with a humourless laugh, "Sadly, conflict seems to be something that all races have been afflicted with, if our collective histories have taught us anything."
"It's so stupid!" Viatrix grumbled, "You'd think that one of these races out here would have grown out of that by now!"
"When it comes to positions of power, they're more likely to be filled by Hierophants than Lovers, unfortunately," V'tala pointed out, "Why sacrifice all that you are for others and reap none of the rewards when you can instead take everything you want for yourself and damn anyone else? That's something that transcends all races, it seems. Just look at the Omega."
Whacking her in the leg with her tail, Malakh replied, "True, but at least for our own conflict with that particular Hierophant, we've got two sets of Lovers, and none of us are going to let any of us fall to that fucker!"
"I raise my hand in favour of that!" Rhea beamed, "Now let's go get Elytra her sweet treat to seal that promise. I think we all need a little something sugary to counteract those salty tears."
Getting a QECD ended up being easier than Pryseia had expected. Phoebe had already been in talks with a Kith manufacturer, who had just finished construction a pair of linked terminals. Something this difficult to build cost a pretty penny, but with the bill split between the two crews, it was doable.
Besides, the peace of mind that the simple communicator brought was worth more than money could buy.
"We haven't been this low on funds since we joined up with the Kith," Rhea said, going over their finances on her data pad as she stood next to Pryseia in the engine room, watching as the delivery tech wheeled the quantum communicator in for installation, Malakh directing them where to go, "There's a ton of bounties out for Leviathan, what with the fleet staying this deep in the core until the Dolabra is off the field, so we should think about doing a hunting run some time soon."
"We'll also need to figure out what our next narrative arc is going to be," Pryseia pointed out, "The short we put together showing us finding the Omega scanner in a Hyttan ruin will only tide our audiences over for so long."
"We've been added in to the roster for the Thalatte hunt, so we've got a couple promos to film for that. Joint venture like with the Mercatus, there's some group scripts being passed around in the group chat for the plan-" Rhea cut herself off when a chime rang out from Pryseia's pocket, the both of them frowning as she pulled out her data pad.
"Who's sending you a message to your private data pad instead of routing the message through the Pelekys?" Rhea asked, suddenly on edge and envisioning worst case scenarios.
Pryseia opened her device and her eyes immediately went wide, and she held it out wordlessly for Rhea to read, which she did so aloud.
"Zakachanyja. 6:30. Wear something nice. V'tala." Rhea's grin turned teasing, her eyes glittering with mirth as she said, "Well now, I do believe you've just been asked out on a date."
Pryseia let out a breathless laugh, staring down at her data pad with a soft smile.
"So it would seem," she said quietly, eyes bright as she caught Rhea's eye, "Would you mind if I forego overseeing this installation? I find I am needed elsewhere."
Her own smile going soft, Rhea nudged her in the shoulder, saying, "Of course. Go have fun with your woman. About time the two of you got to have a normal date."
Getting directions to Zakachanyja was easy enough, the restaurant the crown jewel of the Quanvengier's fine dining district. Taking their shuttle, Pryseia made it there with time to spare, setting down into a parking space, her heart in her throat when she caught sight of V'tala outside the building.
Despite the fact that they'd been insatiably exploring each others bodies since the night after their successful mission for Slake and her pirates, Pryseia found herself positively adolescent with giddiness at the sight of the woman she loved. In a sharp contrast to the rest of her, V'tala was wearing black dress shoes and slacks, while her black dress shirt had the sleeves rolled to her elbows, the buttons down the front undone enough for a tasteful amount of cleavage. She'd gone for a subtle look with her makeup, just enough to highlight her eyes, her hair worn simple and loose. When Pryseia exited the shuttle, it was to the sight of V'tala brushing her hair back, and she found her gaze caught on the flex of the muscles in the other woman's forearm, and she had to swallow down the memories of just what else she'd seen them flexing for last night.
V'tala caught sight of her before Pryseia had a chance to call out, and when she took her in, V'tala looked stunned. This was a date, after all, so Pryseia had dressed the part - she wore a black skirt that came to about mid thigh, black ankle boots, with a black, sleeveless crop top that was little more than a sports bra, over which she'd thrown a loose white button up that she'd left open to show everything off while still looking somewhat professional. She'd kept her makeup simple too, and had pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, and V'tala could not take her eyes off of her.
"I received your summons." Pryseia's voice came out lower than she intended it, something warm and private that had V'tala's eyes darkening in an instant, looking at her like she'd just as soon get in the shuttle and head back to one of their bedrooms rather than step into the restaurant that Pryseia knew was reservation only. However, she took a deep breath, offering out her arm as Pryseia stepped up to her, and once she'd looped her hand through V'tala's elbow, Pryseia was led inside.
The interior of Zakachanyja was not what Pryseia had imagined it to be. Dim, intimate lighting made everything feel smaller in the room, quieter despite the fact that the floor plan of the restaurant was massive. It didn't feel like it could fit the hundreds that their information site claimed. Quiet conversation from patrons already sat filled the room with an undercurrent of white noise, an orchestra located on a hovering platform in the centre of the room providing a musical accompaniment for the diners. Booths and tables were spread across the open concept of the building, all of them obscured by dividing walls and decorative elements that would make each table seem like a private oasis. Unlike the rest of the Quanvengier, it wasn't ostentatiously decorated inside, just stark simplicity meant to highlight the food and the company, rather than the establishment itself.
The maitre d' greeted them at the service podium, V'tala giving her name before they were led to their table, the maitre d' lighting the candle that lay there and leaving them with the menus.
Left alone like this, tucked away from everything, Pryseia felt something settle within herself that she had no name for. She'd been a soldier, a slave for so long that she sometimes felt as though she'd lost something fundamental to who she was as a person. Their compulsion to find the parts of Storlayacas had been a blessing, because once free of the command structure of the Thalatte military, she didn't know what she wanted out of life, beyond their freshly achieved goal of getting free.
Then, with the threat of the Omega, she'd been granted another mission to fulfill, one more worthwhile than any the Thalatte had forced her into. A soldier, still, but this time on her own terms.
But the feeling creeping through her now, warm and sweet as honey, was a far cry from the cold iron certainty of their mission. A purpose, a drive, a destiny to reach for, the eventual fight with the Omega had been a finish line, after which the people she loved would be allowed to live in peace. She didn't care what happened to her so long as they were able to live lives of their own choosing when everything was said and done.
Her near death at the hands of that Thalatte assassin had been a revelation, one that had taken her far too long to arrive at - as much as she loved her people, they loved her just as fiercely, and to lose her would devastate them as badly as if they were taken away from her. She'd spent so long being conditioned to throw her life away for the cause that she hadn't acknowledge the fact that, to her family, she was as much a worthy cause to them as they were to her. The love she had for them was something each and every one of them felt in return for her, and it was high time she acted like her relationship to them all was so much more than a one way street.
She loved them, loved them enough to die for them in a heartbeat, without question.
But even more than that, she loved them enough to live.
Glancing up from where she'd been going over the menu, V'tala gave her a curious look, asking, "What has you smiling like that?"
Pryseia was powerless to stop her smile from growing softer as she said, "I love you."
V'tala's breath hitched at that, her own gaze going soft as she replied, "I love you too. I- it's overwhelming, sometimes. Just how much I love you. How easy it is. It's like I had this wellspring inside me the entire time, and my own people kept it hidden from me. I don't know that I'm ever going to stop resenting them for what they did to me, but at the same time, if they hadn't, I never would have met any of you. A part of me wishes that we'd been born into less traumatic lives, but would we have ever crossed paths if we had?"
"We would have," Pryseia told her with a conviction that startled even herself, "In a gentler world, none of us would have been slaves, but we'd have found our way to one another regardless."
"Would we now?" V'tala had gone for teasing, but with the way her eyes brightened with unshed tears, the look was somewhat spoiled.
Reaching a hand out to her, Pryseia said, "We would. Her medical prowess would have brought Rhea beyond the horizons of her homeworld, where she would have met Malakh, seeking her fortune among the stars alongside Viatrix, the AI she'd created to help run her shipping business. Nevara, of course, would be one of her pilots, alongside Elytra, who had grown tired of being trapped in the doldrums of life planetside."
"What about you?" V'tala asked as she intertwined their fingers.
"I'd have actually stuck with skating, gone professional enough to compete in off-world competitions. It had its origins on Terra, you know? But it spread out to other worlds where ice is plentiful. Rhea would have insisted on watching in person, and so Malakh would have made a company event of it."
Quieter now, V'tala asked, "And what about me?"
"You'd be there, on the world I was competing on. Born to a loving family, the only hardship you faced was deciding on what you wanted to major in at university. You would have bought tickets to the competition on a whim, and found yourself sat with the others, striking up a fast friendship with them all." Pryseia all but whispered.
"I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes off of you once you got on the ice," V'tala said, her eyes never once leaving Pryseia's, "You're breathtaking. I would have been instantly obsessed. I'd have found some way to get down to you, cheering for you the loudest when you won."
Pryseia smiled at that, the image forming with crystal clarity in her mind. "I'd have heard you, seen you, and become just as obsessed. I'd have snuck out, hoping to find you, and it would have led me to a little restaurant just like this. I'd have found you inside, invited myself to your table, and would have spent the evening getting to know you. I want to know everything about you."
"The feeling is more than mutual," V'tala told her, running a thumb across the back of Pryseia's knuckles, "What's your favourite genre of movie?"
"I'm quite partial to musicals, where emotions are too grand to be conveyed with words alone," Pryseia's tongue had darted across her lips briefly, and V'tala eyes traced their movement as if she wanted to chase after them, "What of you? What's your favourite genre?"
Not even pausing to consider, V'tala told her, "Your lips. Next question."