Page 3 of Venomous Heart
“I know you didn’t want this mission,” Karian began, looking out the large curved window down to Aveyn. “So I thank you for accepting the assignment anyway.”
“Don’t thank me,” Arlen answered sharply. “You left me no choice.” Not wanting to look at his brother any longer, he turned to stare at Trade Minister Knut’s old planet-estate. Aveyn looked like a jewel, an emerald spliced with veins of blue, rich and untamed. The planet had been Knut’s personal playground for decades—at least, until about a month ago, when Kamal, Arlen’s eldest brother, had liberated the human population who’d been illegally kept and bred there.
A thousand humans, now freed, lived under the official protection of the Eok nation.
“There was no one else with your qualifications to secure Aveyn.” Karian kept talking but there was an edge to his voice. “The risks are too great.”
“Khal is eager to prove himself.” Arlen felt Karian turn toward him, knew his brother was watching him, but stared out the window, ignoring him. “This mission doesn’t need a war-time Commander. This mission needs a diplomat, which I am not.”
Arlen knew he was being harsh, knew Karian wanted nothing more but to mend the rift that had pushed them apart like the two halves of a broken heart, but forgiveness was as elusive to him as the feelings he’d once harbored in his soul for his family. He wasn’t the warrior he’d been a year and a half ago, when he’d rescued Karian and his mate from the desolate planet where their rescue pod had landed. He was but a shell of his former self and he couldn’t bear Karian seeing him like this.
“I can’t put this kind of mission on Khal alone.”
“Plenty of others would have been happy to rise to the challenge.”
Silence followed Arlen’s last statement. He knew it was the truth. Khal, their youngest brother, was not experienced enough to handle the kind of delicate mission ensuring the humans’ safety on Aveyn would entail, but Arlen was hardly the only warrior with the skills to navigate the complex and dangerous political landscape associated with the humans’ unique position on Aveyn.
“You would have been recalled from the Frontier whether I assigned you to this mission or not.” The veneer of cool efficiency in Karian’s voice was beginning to crack, although only one who knew him as well as Arlen could tell. “Your war time was over.”
“I don’t see why.” It wasn’t true. Arlen knew exactly why. Violence had a way of bringing out the worst in an Eok warrior, of summoning to the surface the beast that thousands of years of civilization had barely contained. “I haven’t lost a single warrior in over a year. That can’t be said of many commanders at the Frontier.”
“The rules are clear on this. No Eok warrior is allowed to stay in the combat zone for such an extensive period of time.” Karian came to stand directly in front of him, and it was impossible to ignore the fervor in his eyes now that he stood so close. “You’ve spent over a year at the most violent of our outposts at the Frontier of the Ring. Combat—day in, day out. Violence filled every one of your days.”
“I managed perfectly well.” Arlen heard the lie in his own voice as he spoke, and knew Karian heard it as well. “You can have my sanity tested if you like. I won’t oppose.”
Karian’s mouth opened and his brow creased with what could only be pain. Sharp, vivid pain. A pain that no amount of combat, no amount of peace, nothing could abate. A pain that stood between them like a stone wall, where there was once only brotherly affection.
Slowly, Karian shook his head, his mouth reducing to a thin line. “You never wrote, never holo-called.” He spoke through clenched teeth, the pain and anger obvious in his blue eyes. “Not Father, not me. Not even Mother. Not even once. I had to ask for news of your health via the chain of command.”
Karian’s pain echoed somewhere deep inside Arlen, in that place he had done his best to kill during his long year of constant violence. The place that was filled with a void so cold, he worried it could spill out and drown him at any second.
He had to get away from Karian. Had to get away from anything that reminded him of his past life. If that meant he had to get down to Aveyn and coddle a bunch of freed humans then he would gladly do so.
“There was nothing to say.” Arlen was doing his best to remain stoic, but it was getting harder by the second. He forced his eyes from Karian back to the sea of green in front of the window. “I will fulfill your mission on Aveyn on one condition.”
“What is it?”
“After a year on Aveyn, you have to send me back.” He saw Karian flinch out of the corner of his eye. “A year of peace for a year of war. That is my offer. If you don’t take it then I will have no other choice but to tender my resignation from the Eok army.”
A long pause stretched out as Karian took a step back. Arlen kept his eyes fixed on the planet below them as Karian stared at him.
“A year for a year.” Karian’s voice had returned to his normal tone. He wasn’t a brother anymore, but the Commander-in-Chief of the Eok armies. “After that, if you want to drown your soul in blood, then you’re welcome to do so.”
Arlen stared at the emerald planet as the past surrounded his mind, full of the things he had refused to feel. He would fulfill his mission for the Eok armies but he would never return home. After this, he would go back to the outpost and fight. Fighting was the only thing he could do now, the only purpose he had left.
He didn’t turn as Karian walked away. His brother’s steps echoed in the empty room for a long time after he was gone, like the ghosts of a broken past. Arlen turned away and walked to the Command Center. He had work to do if he wanted to get off this planet and back where he belonged.
Bathed in the blood of his enemies.
2
Ava
“Thank you, Edmila.” Ava nodded to the brown-haired girl standing in the doorway to the small, windowless storage room Ava used as an office. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”
“I won’t.” Edmila shook her head, her pretty, heart-shaped face scrunched up as she ran her soft hazel eyes over the small screen she carried everywhere like her life depended on it. “You’ve worked since nine o’clock last night, Doctor Ava. It’s a quarter past eight now. You need to eat and sleep. Leave the rest to me.”
Ava smiled, the weariness eating away at her muscles, and aches spreading up and down her back. At barely twenty, Edmila was young, too young to be shouldering the responsibility of all these sick and injured people, but Ava had no other choice. Edmila was the only one who had volunteered to help with the medical clinic.
