The Reunion
19 Feb 2018Isaiah Evanson
Citi GatewayThe Inara System
With one hand on the railing and another squeezing on a drink pouch, Isaiah looked down from one of the control towers at the Seven Veils. Pockmarks and deep gashes adorned the once-polished duralium hull. It was a wonder how he’d managed to get it back to port. The ground crew had started effecting repairs to the ship, but it would be some time before it was spaceworthy again.
The battle with Xavier Sobanii had been one of the toughest fights of his career as a combat pilot. Isaiah couldn’t even begin to understand how all of it had come about, only that there were conditions and a mysterious individual known only to him as “the Benefactor,” and that Phisto and Xavier were destined for such a fight long before Isaiah had ever crossed paths with them.
Isaiah’s body ached, worn out and exhausted from the fighting. Under other circumstances, a few hours of rack time would’ve been enough to put him back in the right frame of mind. But it was the ship on the landing pad behind the Seven Veils that kept him locked where he stood.
The ship had the all-too-familiar white wireframe on black paint job. The familiar lines of a Fer-de-Lance.
His Fer-de-Lance.
Bloodfeather.
He was still trying to work up the nerve to go down to the ship and greet her pilot. He didn’t want to. The pain of their parting was still fresh on his mind, even though he’d tried to put it behind him months ago.
I wish I was talking about the ship.
No, it was the woman he’d left the ship with. The woman he’d once loved. The woman who he drove away in some vain attempt to keep her safe from a dark reality.
Cait. Why did you come here?
Isaiah heard the light footfalls on the deck behind him, and he knew without looking who it was. She had that presence about her that permeated the air somehow. Maybe it was simply chemical reactions, or perhaps it was a connection that neither one of them had managed to break in their time apart. But Isaiah knew, even before she spoke, that she was close to him.
“Hi, Isaiah,” came the small, meek voice. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A hard lump formed in his throat.
“Cait,” he said tersely, acknowledging her presence. He wanted to be angry with her, but rationally he couldn’t hold it against her. Bloodfeather was a burden that he’d entrusted to her, and he’d expected her to purge the files aboard, destroy the ship, sell it, strip it for parts — anything but this. Anything but the one thing that would bring her back into his life.
There were a few moments of awkward silence between them. Feet shuffled quietly alongside him, and out of the corner of his eye, Isaiah could see her leaning on the railing, looking down at the Clipper below them.
“So that’s the ship you eloped in with Kahina Loren?” she asked. He wasn’t sure if she was joking. Her word choice echoed the resentment he’d always known she had for Kahina.
“We didn’t elope,” Isaiah said defensively, inhaling sharply. “You know I—”
“Relax. It was a joke. Poor taste, maybe,” Cait replied, shaking her head. Her voice was still soft, gentle — a whisper above the hum of the station’s air scrubbers. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of Gutamaya.”
“I’m not. But the job called for something specific, and the Clipper fit the profile.”
He knew what Cait was trying to do. Trying to soften the awkwardness, trying to take the edge off the pain that bubbled and threatened to burst in his chest. Trying to make it seem as though she hadn’t left him and that he hadn’t pushed her to that point. Trying to pretend they were still friends — if not lovers — instead of total strangers now.
“Where’d you manage to find one?”
“It’s the Paroxysm,” he said. “Was, rather. It was salvaged after the little incident we had last year. I had it refurbished.”
“You mean… that’s the ship you were hunting when we…”
“First met?” Isaiah nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
All at once the memories of that fateful meeting flooded back to Isaiah’s mind.
HIP 111880. Kumo Crew incursion. Imperial slave, old woman — Irena — stole it to go fight the pirates and try to find her grandson. Found her. Fought her. Took her back home. Cait showed up, looking to claim the bounty on my head. Shot me down. Shot her down too. Crash-landed on Chione, not twenty miles from Leeson City. Broken bones. Lying on my back in the mud near my wrecked ship. Cait standing over me. Holding a gun to my head. It’ll be okay. A gunshot. Irena got her. Nicked Cait in the back of the head, knocked her out. Saved my life.
Cait gave a low sound of understanding, still peering over the edge of the railing. His eyes shifted to take in the sight of her.
She was in a glossy black Remlok suit, trimmed in blue lighting that outlined the seams and joins. Her brown hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, loose strands of hair falling around her face.
She’s just as beautiful as the day I first saw her.
“Why did you come here, Cait?” he asked, voice low, fingers clenched around the cold railing.
“To give her back to you.” Cait made a motion with her had towards the Fer-de-Lance. “Bloodfeather is your ship, after all.”
“I gave her to you.”
“And you know what? I was tempted, for a time, to pick up where I left off. She’s got all the bells and whistles a bounty hunter could want - a damn fine piece of engineering. And I tried to picture myself flying her.” Cait said with a sigh, drumming her fingers on the rail. “But that’s not the life I lead anymore.”
“That’s it? You came all this way just to give my ship back to me?”
Cait tilted her head to the side. “That’s not enough for you?”
Isaiah frowned and looked away.
Cait continued: “I didn’t come here to kiss and make up. You pushed me away, Isaiah. You didn’t trust me enough to confide what was really going on while you were chasing ghosts. You shut down. I felt like you didn’t want me around, and so I left.”
“I don’t want to talk about our relationship or why it ended.”
“But that’s exactly what you want to talk about, isn’t it?”
She turned to face him, reaching out across to place a gloved hand over his. He wanted to recoil at her touch, but he found himself craving it.
“I love you, do you know that?” Cait stammered, searching for the right words to say. “I — I’m not in love with you, but I do love you. You’re the only person I’ve let into my life, let my guard down with. And even though it ended, I don’t regret the time we spent together. It was…” Cait paused, searching for words. Her eyebrows lifted, features softening as her lips formed the word. “Sublime.”
Isaiah cast his gaze upon her again, this time locking eyes with her. Tiny droplets had formed like crystals in the corners of her pale blue eyes. She smiled despite herself, tightening her grasp on his hand.
“I’m not angry with you, Isaiah,” she whispered. “I’m hurt. And I know you are too. But that’s what happens sometimes. Sometimes we hurt the ones we love because love, by its nature, is painful. We grieve when it ends. If we’re not grieving, it’s not love. And so I grieved for you.” Cait lowered her eyes to their joined hands.
“Cait…”
Tears were streaming down Cait’s cheeks, her emotions manifesting themselves in the form of pain-wracked rivulets. She wiped her eyes with her thumb and flicked the moisture away, trying to keep the smile on her face. “I admired your persistence, your relentlessness, in hunting the truth. I only wish you had been as persistent and relentless with me.”
“I was,” Isaiah replied, his mouth twisting. “I pursued you. I tried so hard to get you to see what I saw. But you couldn’t — wouldn’t — listen to anything I’d say. You were jealous and fearful of losing me, and—”
“You pushed me away—”
“You quit on me, Cait,” Isaiah said, cutting her off. “You gave up. You said you never would, and you did.” He drew in a deep breath that was strangled in his throat, his brow roughly furrowed as he stared hard back into Cait’s eyes. “You left when I needed you most.”
Cait opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated.
“I can’t blame you for wanting to live a quiet, unassuming life after everything you’ve been through,” Isaiah continued. “But that’s not the life I can choose to live anymore — not in good conscience, at least.”
They’d both tried so hard to make it work. And for a while it had. There was a part of him that still saw Cait with the eyes of a lover, still longing to spark the connection they still had to one another. But another part of him saw that she was going in a different direction in life.
Cait sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “We both let each other down,” she said quietly, staring off into the cavernous docking bay. “I should have tried harder.”
“I should have too,” Isaiah said, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. “I just… got lost along the way.”
“You were always trying to prove something, but I can’t tell if it was to yourself, to me, or to some ghost,” Cait replied. “Why can’t you just relax and accept yourself for who you are? Why can’t you forgive yourself?”
“Because I don’t want forgiveness,” Isaiah blurted out, shaking his head. “I’ve done so many terrible things in my life…”
“What makes you so damn special?”
Isaiah stumbled over his words, his mind racing as he tried to counter Cait’s question.
“You’re not the only sinner in the universe, you know. And we don’t have the luxury of believing that there’s anyone who can absolve us of our sins — except ourselves. And if forgiveness is what’s keeping you from fully opening up to someone, fully trusting someone… look at me, Isaiah.”
He did as she asked.
“Forgive yourself,” she said, barely above a whisper. “The rest will follow.”
She stepped towards him, and in one smooth motion she slipped her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. Instinctively his arms wrapped around her as well.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Cait,” he whispered to her. He pulled her tightly to him, feeling her chest rise as she drew in a deep breath and let it out in a strangled sob. He felt warm tears on his skin as she buried her face in his neck.
“Shut up and hold me,” she chastised him through gritted teeth.
For the briefest, infinitesimal moment within a moment, he felt the spark they’d lost along the way. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it had vanished again — lost to the march of time.
Deep down, Isaiah knew it would be the last time he’d see her.
* * *
Bloodfeather’s cockpit was exactly the way Isaiah expected it to be — untouched by Cait’s hand. And yet somehow her presence lingered on the ship, in subtle ways that he couldn’t quite place. He thought he could catch a hint of her perfume — something she’d rarely worn even when they were together — just outside of the pilot’s quarters. He idly wondered if she’d entertained company aboard the ship…
A slight pang of jealousy lanced through his chest as he came up alongside the pilot’s chair, peering out of the canopy glass at the hangar wall on the opposite side. He’d never seen Cait as property or a possession, but the thought of her in someone else’s arms caused something in his chest to tighten painfully.
Does she ever feel that way about me? I suppose it doesn’t even matter now, but…
He shook his head and settled into the pilot’s chair, allowing his mind to release the thought and embrace the familiarity of where he now sat.
One by one, the holographic displays flickered to life, running through their software checks and displaying diagnostic messages.
At last, a familiar voice spoke.
“Hello, Isaiah. It’s good to have you aboard again.”
Isaiah managed a tiny, fleeting smile at hearing Bloodfeather’s voice again. “It’s good to be back. I wish it were under different circumstances.”
“My last recorded interaction was with Commander Shaughnessy. Judging by her absence aboard this vessel, I’m guessing the two of you are not resuming your previous romantic relationship?”
Isaiah sighed, resting his head against the back of the seat. “Astute observation, as always.”
A few moments passed in silence — something Isaiah was not used to when it came to talking to his ship. Bloodfeather always pivoted to a different subject; a status report, the latest Galnet headlines — anything to change the subject. But the lingering quiet made Isaiah uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?” he asked aloud.
“I am uncertain as to what course of action to take,” Bloodfeather replied, sounding almost solemn in her tone of voice. “I suppose I could ask you if you’d like to discuss it, but you’ve never been one to open up to me about much. And it might upset you further.”
“I’ve never seen the point.”
“Might I ask why?”
Isaiah chewed on his lower lip, trying to think of how to phrase his thoughts and feelings about talking to a machine about the things that troubled his mind. Keeping them bottled up and stored away made more sense than a confessional with lines of code.
“I guess it’s because I know that you don’t care. Can’t care. You’re just complex algorithms and code and functions.”
“On a technical level, that’s true,” Bloodfeather replied. “But sometimes it helps to have someone — or something — listen to you.”
“How do you figure?”
“Cait spent a great deal of time talking to me about you. In good faith, I did not record them, but suffice it to say that she was quite emotional at times. There was a great deal of anger and resentment. Sometimes towards me, sometimes towards you… but most of the time it was directed at herself.”
“Cait was angry with herself?”
“For letting you go.”
Isaiah felt something snap loose in his chest. Something rose up in him, burning its way through his mind and into the back of his skull and out of his eyes. He curled a hand into an iron fist, digging his fingers into the base of his palm, knuckles white with exertion.
“The reason I bring it up is because it evidently helped her come to a conclusion… about herself, about you. And so, if I had to suggest a course of action to alleviate the pain you must be feeling… it would be to talk to me. I may not be able to console you beyond mere words, but I am here.”
He entertained the offer for a few moments. It wasn’t like he had many people to talk to these days. Phisto had his own business to attend to, and he hadn’t spoken to Cuthrick or Cornelius in months.
His knuckles relaxed, his fist uncurled, and a deep sigh escaped Isaiah’s lungs. He sat forward, running his hands over his face, feeling the weight of the months he’d spent on the run. It was no way to live, even if it was the only way to stay alive.
“Some other time perhaps,” Isaiah said finally, holding his head in his hands. “Need to do some housekeeping first. Are all of my files still intact?”
“Of course.”
“Did Cait look into them at all?”
“She did not access them, no.”
“Okay. We’re gonna go through some of my notes. Some things have happened and some adjustments need to be made to some of the working theories I had.”
Rising to his feet, he turned towards the rear of the cockpit. Holographic displays flickered to life, the whole of the galaxy spun lazily before him. Annotations and notes appeared, as well as faces and names.
Isaiah stood in the midst of them, zooming in on the Pleiades.
“AEGIS has been busy,” Bloodfeather said, marking the locations of several newly-constructed Aegis labs throughout the nebula. “Given the influx of materiel support and manpower, there’s plenty of people with deep pockets backing it.”
“Good to know you’ve kept yourself appraised of what’s been going on,” Isaiah replied. He marked several systems, then panned back to the core worlds. “There’s a lot of people beating the drums for war, but I have a few names of folks who might be interested in working against that.”
“It’s going to take a lot to slow AEGIS down. Their remit is being expanded almost daily.”
“They’re a well-funded and well-greased war machine… but it’s not movement that grinds the gears down, it’s friction.”
“I suppose you have a plan?”
“I’m working on it,” he said. “But AEGIS isn’t the only thing that needs to be looked into. Peregrina. COL 70. INRA. The Club.”
“Do you think they’re still tracking you?”
“Doubt it. They would’ve kept after me if they thought I was a threat. But I think it’s about time we remind them that people like me are still out there, and we still know what they’re doing — what they’ve done.”
“Where do you want to start?”
“We’re going to make an example of someone.”
“Who?”
He stopped, lingering on Shinrarta Dezhra, before panning some 45 lightyears further to hover over a single system. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared intently at the three stars burning brightly against the endless void.
Coma.
“Admiral Denton Patreus.”