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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 115. Chapter 115

“The building that’s on fire,” Garjah broke in and said dryly. He wiped his face. “We didn’t see your mech, though.”

“Oh.” Ases cleared his throat, paling. “Well, you got out so others probably did too, right? The damage probably isn’t that bad. My mech caught it on camera, so I sent him in, just in case, to make sure no one needed help.”

I snorted. “And the Kardoval want to make you and me the bad guys.”

“What?” Ases put on an outraged face and staggered back a few steps. His hand landed on his chest as he straightened. “Me, a good guy? Why, Essell Deray, you are going to just ruin my bad boy reputation.”

“How about you set up your mech to do the broadcast, and he lets you do that all on your own?” Garjah broke between us and handed me a container of juice. “Drink. You’ll need your strength. This is just a short stop.”

“Oh great. More running.”

“Fast walking, if you’re lucky.”

I took a drink of the juice, happy it was sweet and not any of the nastier varieties I’ve learned Timok liked to give me when he thought my vitamin levels were too low. Medicine didn’t always have to taste bad, but I guess doctors of all species thought it was a good way to keep their patients from coming back or something. “Oh great, the universe is taking a break on us and decided I won’t have to run.”

“Actually, running would just draw attention to us,” one of Chaintrik’s males said. “We want to avoid that.”

My face flushed, and several of the group stared at me, not used to seeing someone with pale skin that changed color, I guess. It only made it worse until I felt like my face on was fire. I hid behind the juice, turning away, mumbling an apology.

Garjah stroked my back. “We’ll break apart into smaller groups again, making our way to different entry points below the city to get out of this maze and away from the Kardoval.”

“We? Don’t we have to stay aboveground for Ases’ mech to transmit?”

His nostrils flaring and thin lips tight, Garjah stared at me. “Hasn’t this has been enough? We showed ourselves, you almost got hurt. Won’t you please go somewhere you’re safe?”

I nearly squeezed the juice container until it collapsed. I took a deep breath, regretting it when I coughed out a lungful of the dust and ash still clinging to my face. I covered my mouth, smearing it in the sweat and who knew what else, but I refused to look away even as I tried to bring up a lung. Garjah patted my back gently.

“Are you?” I finally croaked.

“Am I what?”

I drained the last of the juice, clearing my throat as I dropped it. I was angry with Garjah but also scared. And determined. And I loved the big, honorable idiot, so I pushed closer into his arms and gazed up at him with one eyebrow raised as I asked the question I already knew the answer to. “Are you going somewhere safe now?”

“I have to stay and be ready for when Ases finishes sharing the recordings his mech took of the Kardoval attacking me and ransacking my house looking for you to use against me. I have to explain everything we’ve learned.”

Huffing, I rolled my eyes. “Then I will be right here beside you. Where I’ve been when most of the public saw me before. What would they think, if you told them everything the Kardoval did, claimed our innocence, but I’m off hiding? No. I’ll be right here standing up for the Galactic, for the treaty we made, and for the rights of all of your people to choose to make a better life for themselves without the Kardoval and their archaic ideas about only ever having the memories for one purpose in life.

“You won’t let the Kardoval’s plots to stay in power keep hurting your people, I know that, even if what could happen to us scares me. They deserve to know that everything we have done has been for them, no matter the risk to our lives or bond. You care about your people, Garjah.” I put a hand on his face. “And I love you. So, no, don’t ask me to leave you just so the Kardoval’s officers won’t hunt me down and try to kill me again tonight. If you stay, I stay. Until we make sure everyone knows the truth.”

The room was oddly silent, except for the hum of Ases’ mech. Then I heard him clear his throat and whisper, “Um, I already did. And that went out live.”

I slowly turned my head toward the Ases and his mech. The room had emptied, apparently when I was choking, and there were only him and Chaintrik beside the mech.

Which was staring right at us, its screen lit up. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Blinking rapidly, I turned back to Garjah. He took a deep breath, rubbed one hand down my back, then turned so he kept two arms around me but could face the mech. I stayed turned into his side, still embarrassed that my emotional declaration had been caught and transmitted for the entire planet—oh stars, Ases had said he’d send it to out to the Galactic too—to see.

Bouncer came to sit with us, and I smiled as I rested a hand on his head. He lifted it but rubbed it against Garjah’s thigh, claiming him in front of everyone. Garjah dropped a hand to rest on mine on his head. “Fear sometimes means we miss the opportunity for something wonderful,” Garjah said, looking down at Bouncer and then up at me. It was quiet, but not quite a whisper. He lifted his gaze to stare directly at the mech.

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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