Page 52 of Star Mates

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

General Nairan diverted from his tactical advantage to take Emmarie and the rest of the rescued Spartans to Dura’s capital, which was simply named Main City. Since the General commanded Ship One, Emmarie figured they weren’t very creative when it came to naming things.

They docked at Dura’s space port before taking a smaller craft to the city’s busy station. At first glance, Main City looked like something out of a blockbuster Hollywood movie, one with major funding for computer graphics. It was a hubbub of computer sophistication and high-tech gadgetry underlined by green glass high rises and constant motion. Set against such a backdrop, she couldn’t help but think of Christmas trees with the Durian people walking, breathing red ornaments.

The refugees were taken to a processing house where missionaries loaded them into vehicles to provide shelter and food. She didn’t see Logan, and wondered if she ever would again. It made her a little sad, even though she knew what he’d done was wrong. She would forever wear a brand on her chest that would remind her of his treachery. Yet part of her felt sorry for him. Once upon a time she had wanted nothing more than to go back home to Earth.

But not anymore.

She and Willoughbee were led to an official room, complete with flags and symbols that must be important to the culture. It reminded Emmarie of a courtroom, although a judge’s bench was lacking. Instead, two raised platforms presided high over the other chairs sat in a semi-circle around the room. At a podium between the platforms were three very distinguished looking Durians, two men and one woman. The men had long white beards and white hair while the woman had grey hair pulled into a severe bun at her nape.

General Nairan led them to the waiting trio and then gave a formal bow. “My lords, my lady. May I present the human leader, Willoughbee, and the human’s chronicler, Miss Emmarie Tice.”

She looked at him in surprise. What a fancy way to say she sang songs and told stories. She followed his lead and did her best curtsy, trying to remember everything she learned from movies.

“Thank you for honoring us with this meeting,” Willoughbee very diplomatically said.

“The Durian Republic was founded on certain principals,” said one of the Durian men. “And yet a conflict with the Unarian Empire was not one we would have chosen.”

“My birth country was the same way,” Emmarie said, speaking up. “A war had broken out in a neighboring country when a psychopath began murdering innocent people. My country tried to stay out of it until one of our territories was bombed, and then we went in full force.”

“Did your country win this war?” the Durian lord asked.

She nodded. “The Allies did win, but not without many causalities. So I understand your hesitation, my lord, but my country was founded on revolution and so to me, to us, we say sic simper tyrannis, which loosely translates to death to tyrants.”

The Duraian lord gave a ghost of a smile. “As effective chronicler as you seem to be, it is hard for us to press an advantage of human cruelty when we’ve never even seen their…”

He trailed off as Emmarie shifted her shirt to reveal the brand that marred the smoothness of her chest. She heard Willoughbee’s shocked gasp.

“Who did that?” General Nairan demanded.

“The Unarian said his name was Lord Palazio of the First House of Glajani,” she reported. “He told me that he had commissioned for the Merloni’s raid on Earth, the raid where I was taken. The first bar represents a working slave, the second is a breeder’s bar and a third would be for those destined to be brought into prostitution. I take it you know what prostitution is, right?”

Several heads nodded.

“I was strapped inside this cage and a laser burned my skin, without aid of any type of pain medicine. And then Lord Palazio said that once my baby was born it would be taken from me and I would have another bar added, to show his ownership of my body for his personal use. So turning a blind eye to any cruelty is the same as condoning it.”

“You are with child?” General Nairan asked softly.

She looked at him. “I am. And my baby will be just as free as I am, as any human should.”

“Well said,” the female Durian leader stated softly. She gave Emmarie a gentle smile. “And how would you find your way into the hearts of Durians who so wish to ignore the talks of recognizing human citizenship?”

“Well, I would do what I do best.”

“And that is?”

“I’d sing them a song.”

****

General Nairan stepped off the elevator and held out his hand for her, helping her off the platform lift. They were enclosed in green glass, high above most of the city, and the view was particularly spectacular. Arriving crafts dotted the skies, following grid patterns laid out by lights that looked like fishing buoys.

“I’m not sure we’re in the right place,” she said, looking around dubiously.

The General had volunteered to escort her to the temporary housing shelter given to the Spartan refugees. Only, this place looked more like it belonged in a fashionable home magazine rather than allowed for hundreds of humans.

“This is my home,” General Nairan said with his usual stiff demeanor.

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