Shock Therapy, CH 03 (Patreon)

Data floated just outside his attention. Sounds from the hover’s computer, as well as more distant connections of the network through it, as it talked to the required system tracking them as they flew back home. Telling them the lies he’d programed it to say. The hover belongs to a family heading out to an approves section of the wilderness for a few days of excursion. Two adults as three children, eight, nine, and thirteen. Only slightly out of skew with the human familial norm on the planet so it wouldn’t trigger the programs moving through the census, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

The information pass, but Alex didn’t focus on it. Eyes closed and stretched on the hover’s couch, going over what had happened. The sex had been amazing, as always. Even back when Tristan only care for his own pleasure, sex had been good; Alex had enjoyed it. And now, Tristan made sure to give as much as he took.

But why?

He mentally batted the question away. It wasn’t his place to ask why.

What does he gain from this?

Alex sat, stifling the sigh. Resting wouldn’t happen, so he might as well address the question, see if he could, this time, find a satisfactory answer.

The sex had appeased Alex. Taken his mind off Tristan’s behavior regarding that abomination LeisureTek had turned that Samalian into when making him a guard. Standard. The thing had spoken Standard without any accent, and it had defended a human hocking Samalian religious items to visitors.

All of it had been wrong in a way that had set Alex off.

Alex didn’t think he cares about what people did with their beliefs. If a Samalian had been the one in that booth; he’d have been fine with it.

That a human… the utter lack of respect for another species existence and beliefs was simply too much.

And Tristan hadn’t let him loose. He’d forced him to hold back until they had privacy. Alex would have been able to coerce the plaza’s security and make it forget anything had happened. So what had been the big deal?

Still, Tristan had let him kill that thing.

But the apologizing.

Tristan should have told him to shut up. To know his place. Things were the way Tristan said they were and Alex…

He calmed his breathing.

Things had changed.

Tristan had changed. And Alex needed to accept it, no matter how wrong it felt at times.

If nothing else, he had to accept it because it was what Tristan wanted. And Alex did what his Samalian wanted.

A change in the flow of data. New instructions sent to the network from the hover. He couldn’t make out what they were just by the sound, but just that change was worrying.

“Tristan,” he said, stepping into the front of the hover. The Samalian was reading the response from what he had sent out.

“I thought we could make a detour.” He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Is that alright with you?”

“Of course,” Alex replied and pushed the annoyance back. Tristan asked, now. He didn’t demand or state. He gave Alex a choice.

Does he?

This could all be a mask to control him. Tristan could be that conniving. Except he gave him nothing he didn’t already have. He already had all of Alex.

He pushed the doubt aside and sat. He connected to the net, listened for its reaction to the new instruction. There wouldn’t be a problem. The new destination was nothing more than a wide expanse of nothingness, as far as LeisureTek’s system knew. That a family decided to go there, instead of in a forest, was just as expected.

The system noted the alteration, including the codes Tristan had included that told it the family had received permission for the change, and returned to the usual drone of system updates.

He watched the Samalian, whose gaze flicked from readout to readout. He wasn’t needed there, now that the change had been entered. Neither of them were. The hover was state of art, and Tristan had added upgrades and Alex had had a talk with its computer, ensured he knew how to handle unexpected queries. They could retire for the few hours it would take to make it to their destinations and—

Alex opened his mouth to make the offer. It didn’t matter they’d had sex only a few hours before. Tristan would be eager.

He closed his mouth.

He could initiate it, he reminded himself. Had done so before and Tristan had responded eagerly.

But that had been home. They had been excited from the fight, and his control had slipped.

Tristan hadn’t minded.

He wouldn’t now.

It wasn’t Alex’s place.

“I’ll get food done.” He stood.

Tristan had his hand keeping him from leaving. He locked eyes with him.

“I love you,” the Samalian said.

“I love you, too,” Alex replied.

But does he? The voice at the back of his mind nagged. Or is that a mask?

* * * * *

The hover landed at the edge of the forest, well away from the House and the settlement. The buildings were closer to the holy place now. And in the distance, the crater the ship’s explosion had caused was still visible, as well as the ruin the shockwave had made of half the town. The rest was in no better condition, from the security force LeisureTek had sent in response to Alex teaching the Samalians who lived here to take down the previous merc attacks.

He and Tristan passed herders on their way to the House, and they called to them, roared greetings Tristan returned, smiling. Closer to the House, the greetings came with hands clasping arms or shoulders. The bearing of teeth that was the Samalian smile.

And a young one raising her arms at Alex.

“You go ahead,” Tristan said between greetings. “I’m going to check with Hea’las about the progress of the renovations.”

Alex nodded, then picked up [look up name of the Samalian child who asks about Alex being furless in book 6].

“You’re back,” she said. “You still don’t have fur.”

“That’s not something I can change,” he replied with a chuckle, carrying her toward the settlement. “Not unless I spent a lot of money.”

She gave an affirmative flick of the ears, and squirmed, so he let her down, and she ran off to a group that included one of her fathers. The male smiled at Alex, and he waved. 

The houses were going up, a mix of permacrete pre-made models Alex and Tristan had procured for them, and traditionally build. A few mixed of the two, with permacrete and wooden walls making up the small house.

It amused him that such simple building to assemble had, instead, been used as part of the construction material, instead of the entirety. 

The Samalians greeted him by name, and he greeted those he knew in return.

“Alex!” Came the greeting and he froze to keep from reacting violently when the arms wrapped around him. “I’m happy you are here.” Rig’Irik stepped back and smiled. “Great day today.” He reached for Alex’s arm, but he pulled it away.

“What are you up to?”

The Samalian canted his head. “Introduce you to family.” He slapped his furry chest. “My family.” The grin would be terrifying, if Alex hadn’t grown used to them while living among these people. Rig’Irik motioned and Alex followed him.

He called to three Samalian hammering planks in place, and they paused. They rubbed muzzles and held each other in the way Samalians intimate with each other did. A male and two females, one of which was pregnant.

“Torpoto,” Rig’Irik the muscular male.

“Please knowing you,” the male said, his Grr’lernin distorted.

“New,” Rig’Irik said. “He’s still learning the tongue.” He said something in another dialect, then licked the male’s muzzle, whose earls folded back and replied in a tone Alex thought was embarrassed.

“Frekoz,” Alex greeted the not pregnant female.

“Defender Alex,” she replied. “We’re honored you accepted.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at Rig’Irik, who places and arm around the other female. “This is Jol’FeNor.” He placed a hand on her ample belly. “And this will be Raf’Karik.”

“Yours?” Alex asked and received a confused look.

“Ours,” Rig’Irik replied.

Alex nodded. Right. Samalians didn’t assign parentage further than the family. It didn’t matter to them which if the two males had fathered the child. They shared equal responsibility.

Alex forced himself to let the pleasure of the moment soak in. Whatever difficulties he and Rig’Irik had had, he was sharing a precious moment with him, and Alex wouldn’t tarnish it by asking questions. Not right now, at least.

“May I?” He asked, extending a hand.

“We would be privileged,” she replied.

He’d misunderstood, he told himself, as he placed a hand on her stomach. There was a hit against his palm, and Alex found he was smiling. “How long?”

“Some time,” She replied. “The moon is still young.”

“Congratulation.” He chuckled at her quizzical expression. “It’s something humans said when a family will have a child.”

“Yours,” she said.

“Rig,” Alex said, leveling his gaze at the proud Samalian. “What is she talking about?”

“You are Defender,” the Samalian replied. “Our child is yours.” He canted his head as if he didn’t understand what was confusing Alex.

Samalian beliefs. Alex had read enough on it to know how important they were. Hea’las had called him a Defender a few times, and explained the role of the Force within their lives. And considering what one such Defender had done to his life, he’d read a lot specifically on that Force. That most of it was from the point of view of this human or that, going on of their way to show how primitive Samalians were because of what they believed in, didn’t mean there hadn’t been some information that applied here.

“So we’re clear,” Alex said. “This child is mine in that should something go wrong, I’m expected to fight the universe to make sure they are protected?”

The pride on their face kept him from pointing out how utterly wrong he was to be thought of as someone who might look after a child’s safety. Then the infant hit his palm again, and Alex smiled.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I can do that.”