Hadrian's Colony: Epilogue: Elanus POV

 Notes: Oh my goodness, we're...at the end. The end of Hadrian's Colony. Not the end of our guys' story, nowhere close, but over seventy thousand words later, here we are. This was a rough go for our lovers, and the ending isn't a firmly happy resolution in all respects, but I feel confident in their ability to weather whatever comes next. 

And there's a lot coming, and soon. But not immediately! My brain needs a break, so I'll be doing a short story/novella in another genre entirely next, then revisiting these gents after that. Thank you all for reading and sticking it out with me! Life is challenging for a lot of us right now, but you give me something to look forward to every week.

Title: Hadrian's Colony: Epilogue: Elanus POV

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Hadrian’s Colony: Epilogue: Elanus POV

 

Photo by Sebastian Brito 

 

Nothing happened fast on a Drifter ship. Technologically and culturally speaking, speed wasn’t a thing for them. Their lives were measured in milestones—another hydroponic crop harvested, another trade deal made, another piece of their massive ship salvaged or decommissioned. They had loose schedules for everything from maintenance to health services, which was one of the reasons Elanus was so confident he could improve their systems. It wasn’t hard when half the damage was self-inflicted thanks to ignoring component wear and tear until it failed. He promised them results—in hydro-storage and recycling, in heating and cooling, and in diagnostics, and he was going to damn well deliver.

And what he asked for in return? A level of speed that had the Father—the head—of the ship ready to tear his hair out.

“We can’t source a ship that fast!”

“They’re already sourced,” Elanus replied absently as he tweaked the program Catie was putting together for hull integrity diagnostics. One more sensor in this area would be easy to manufacture, and it would cover an entire kilometer of ship that was currently underperforming but would soon be supporting temperature differentials. “You have three in storage.”

Daniel Hammersmith scowled at him. “You shouldn’t have that information. Have you been scanning our ship? Because that goes against the agreement you made when you came on board.”

Elanus didn’t resist the urge to scoff. “I didn’t have to scan anything,” he said. “The families who own those ships came to my people within the hour of us arriving, all looking to make a private deal.”

Hammerhelm’s expression darkened even further. “They don’t have the authority to make deals with outsiders unless I say they can.”

“Which is why I haven’t said yes to any of them,” Elanus replied. “But I will have one of those ships, Father Daniel, and I’ll have it without you dragging my stay here out and getting more concessions from me for using your precious resources, like I haven’t already repaid you fifty times over with the improvements I’m making for you.” He raised his eyes from the screen to look evenly at the Drifter, who looked away after just a second.

“Fine. But fuel is extra.”

Elanus smiled. “Of course it is.”

The truth was, he didn’t care that fuel would cost more. He didn’t care if it cost him as much as everything else they’d paid already, because fueling the ship they ended up with was the key to getting rid of Carlisle, and getting rid of Carlisle was key to getting Kieron back on an even keel.

You had to know him to know how he was being affected by his mother’s continual distance. After Catie’s Regen capacity was refreshed and Kieron broke out of the depression he’d been held in since the rescue, he’d acted almost normal. They’d been on Pinnace for a week and he’d been good for all of it—attentive to the kids, Pol included; conversing with Xilinn and Ryu about what had happened while they’d been separated; sticking close to Elanus when he could and showing him how much he cared in the small, sweet ways Elanus would freely admit he was addicted to.

It didn’t matter that so much of their early relationship was lost to Kieron’s traumatic brain injury; he still held Elanus’s hand whenever they were together for more than thirty seconds. He still laid his palm on his lower back when they walked, the easiest place for him to reach given that Elanus was more than a foot and a half taller than his fiancé. When they slept together—in a bed in guest apartments on Pinnace, which was a nice bit of privacy for all involved after months in close quarters with Catie—he pulled Elanus’s head onto his chest without a second thought. The love was ever-present, demonstrated in big and small ways, and Elanus was confident that he knew as much about how Kieron showed his emotions as Kieron himself did these days.

Which was how he knew the damage with Carlisle went deep. Kieron wasn’t extra sensitive to it because of his injuries, and Carlisle wasn’t extra solicitous of him because of them either. Despite their inability to speak with one another about anything of import, their actions spoke volumes.

Carlisle was quiet, avoidant, and cold. Kieron was quiet, persistent, and cracking under the weight of her disregard more and more every day.

That was why she had to go, before she broke something she had no right to anymore. She knew it, she agreed with Elanus, and as long as he got her a ship she could fly and gave her access to enough credits to do whatever the fuck she wanted, they were clear as far as he was concerned.

It didn’t take long. One conversation wrought a quick inspection of all three ships, Carlisle included in  the process because she was the one who would have to fly the damn thing, and then the trade was made. The ship was stocked, Carlisle was checked one last time and given a clean bill of health, and then…

She left. There was no elaborate goodbye, no heartfelt hugs and promises to meet again in the future. She simply said, “I’ll go, then,” and shook everyone’s hands. Kieron was the only one who got a double hand clasp, and for a second there, as their eyes met, Elanus thought they might have a breakthrough.

But no—Carlisle broke contact first, nodded at Elanus, then walked into her refurbished ship. Five minutes later, she was gone, heading for the closest space lane to do some exploring in the Fringe.

An hour later, Elanus found Kieron in one of the many small observatories, breaks in the outer hull that had been transformed into looking stations with plastisteel and forcefields. It was cold there, very cold—this part of the ship wasn’t well insulated, and when Elanus kissed the top of Kieron’s head as he wrapped him in an embrace, his skin was icy.

He needed to say something, break through the discomfort somehow, but…

“I don’t know whether I should feel happy or not with how it’s all ended.”

Huh, looked like Kieron was going to do the heavy lifting, then. As usual. “You feel how you feel,” Elanus said, not-very-usefully in his opinion, but what else could he say? “You can acknowledge something is for the best without being happy about it.”

“Is that what you think? That her leaving is for the best?”

“Yes.” There was no doubt in his mind. “For both of you. She’s been little better than a slave to a complete madman for most of her life, Kieron. Someone who controlled her every move, who had unreachable expectations of her.”

Kieron flinched. “Do you think I treated her like that? With unreasonable expectations, I mean?”

No, fuck that. “Honey,” Elanus said in what he hoped was a level tone, “You didn’t have any expectations of her, from what I could see. Or if you did, they were minimal at best. And I think that’s part of why it’s better that she left. Not just for her sake, so she can learn about a universe that’s so much bigger than what she’s used to, but so you can figure out how you feel without the pressure of being so careful around her. It’s breathing room, baby. Just some breathing room. It’s not forever.”

I won’t let it be forever.

“Besides,” he went on, “I don’t think Carlisle has quite the right skillset for our next adventure.”

“I don’t know,” Kieron said in a lighter tone than Elanus was expecting. “It might be nice to have a highly trained mercenary on our side when we try to infiltrate Trakta.”

“Ha,” Elanus muttered. “Goes to show what you know about infiltrating xenophobic, religious-right, neo-fascistic societies. You don’t make headway in a place like that with guns.”

“So how are we going to do it, then?”

Elanus kissed the top of Kieron’s head. “With the weight of my charming personality, of course. And a lot of credits.”

Elanus had them to spare, after all, and Trakta was incredibly money-hungry now that it had seceded from the Central System. He knew exactly what buttons to push to get access to the planet, and once he was there, he’d grease the right palms and set things up to get Xilinn’s kids back.

Easy. They were due something being easy for once in the past few years, and this was going to be it. It was.

It had to be.