Beyond the End of the World, Lokians 1

Chapter 20

"Uhhh," O'Hara faltered as he was unsure where to begin.

"If I may," Korit interjected.

He stood and walked over to Bragg. They, too, shook hands.

"You are...? I'm sorry," he apologized. "Always been bad with names. That's why us Humans got these name tags," he added and laughed.

"Korit. I led my own team before joining the captain. I was there most every step of the way."

"Fire away, Korit. I'd love to hear the story from someone else's perspective," O'Hara remarked.

Korit emerged as a wonderful storyteller. His lack of tone was contrasted by his dramatic timing and subtle mimicry. Drinks were passed around and both men and Thewls appreciated the spirits. The aliens had never imbibed alcohol, but that night, while recounting tribulations and giving homage to dead friends, they knocked back a few in a very Human fashion.

Eventually, everyone made their way outside. Someone even started a little fire. Korit's words were remarkably articulate as he told of their initial meeting. He explained the search on Marduk, the recovery on Sahagun, and terrible stories of the Lokians. O'Hara listened intently as everyone spoke, but something played at the back of his mind. He looked over at Day, who was drinking a glass of wine with Flem and Fitzpatrick.

She caught his glance and excused herself, an obvious sign. O'Hara smiled to himself before sneaking from camp. He caught up to Day by a small hill.

"Care for a walk, Miss Day," he asked with a smile.

"Love to, Mister O'Hara," she replied and took his arm.

"That's Captain O'Hara," he joked. She laughed and hit him softly in the ribs. They walked a little ways, just far enough from prying eyes. "I've been thinking about us, when we used to be together...I realize we've been through quite a bit more now."

"You don't have to say anything, Riley."

"I think I do...Sara, I don't think I can bear to lose you."

"You're not suggesting I stay away from this mission?!"

"What? No! We can't even pilot that space cat. No...no, what I was saying is, um, that," he was having trouble getting his feelings out. She looked at him, expectantly. "I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend again. I'm asking that you always be my friend, my rock, the one who makes me be the best person I can be...."

He took her hands, interlocked fingers, and kissed her. Her sweet aroma, warm embrace, gorgeous eyes, and consideration were everything he needed. His determination, compassion, and selflessness were her inspiration.

"Riley...I'll always love you. You know that. I can't bear to lose you, either, and you're right; the battles—this journey—it's helped us forge a relationship that will stand the test of time. We may have our ups and downs, but I'll always be your rock," she said and placed her forehead to his shoulder.

O'Hara felt a wave of emotion envelope him. In a very real way he saw events unfolding before his eyes. Some of the events were utterly unpleasant, others were peaceful, but only one was right. He searched his soul. They made love under gray clouds that night.

Back at camp, DeReaux polished off quite a bit of wine himself and noticed two crew members missing. "I think maybe ze' captain and Miss Day have gotten themselves lost," he said with a mock French accent and laughed.

Fitzpatrick elbowed him and laughed, too. "I think we could all use a little getting lost tonight," she fired back and downed a shot of bourbon.

While Adams and Franklin avoided drinking, they chuckled at the crew's behavior. They even took bets on who was going to score that night. Admiral Lay leaned over, behind their chairs, and when he spoke, they nearly jumped out of their skins.

"Whoa," he chuckled. "I didn't think you two were so jumpy."

"Cheesy crackers," Adams snipped.

"Frank and beans," Franklin gasped.

"I was saying; it's been a long time since I've been in your shoes, and I wanted to tell you to lighten up. Life is short...precious, and you only get one chance to make of it what you want."

They noticed the scent of alcohol on his breath. He wasn't drunk, though, buzzed, maybe, and he smiled before patting their backs. They exchanged a look.

The agents, naturally, knew about Admiral Lay's ties with The Bureau. Prior to his ascension to admiral, he had been a young captain. During that time, undisclosed battles in space and pirate activity on the colonies were a rampant problem. Much of that information was hidden away in order to make the history lessons on space travel seem flawless and romantic, but there had been a dirty side to colonization.

The drunk Thewls, their inhibitions gone, decided to take a moment and show something they held sacred. Jor-Tune was the first to stand. He called everyone's attention. Then, he abruptly took a step forwards. He shifted his weight and leaned back almost so far as to fall over. The Humans didn't know what to make of his shenanigans, until others joined. The Thewls were dancing. Korit and Flem even kept a beat by making musical, barking sounds.

When it all subsided, and everyone clapped, Korit wandered off, but Nandy followed him. "What's wrong, friend?"

"I miss my wife. I would like to see her," Korit said and took a deep breath.

For the first time, Nandesrikahl really understood Thewlian sentiment. He easily distinguished the levels of emotion flowing through Korit. Nandesrikahl didn't only see color cues, he actually felt Korit's longing like a punch in the gut.

He was so overwhelmed for Korit's love of his wife that he placed a hand on the Thewl's arm. "That love must drive you very hard. You must succeed for her."

They smiled, having made a bond, and Korit told Nandesrikahl about his wife. "Before all this mess with the Lokians, she was a dancer. We lived happily on a colony; though, happily may be a misleading word. Naturally, we both longed to see the end of the Lokians, see a true return to our culture. Nevertheless, she kept our culture alive with her dancing. Her parents had passed it on to her, as their parents had done. One day, perhaps, I will pass it on, too."

As they spoke, DeReaux strutted by them, a lady beneath each arm. "What?"

They didn't say anything, but watched him march into the traveler vessel. Then, Fitzpatrick's voice thundered from the party.

"Anyone lonely tonight?" she yelled with arms raised overhead as booze spilled from a cup. "I'm lonely! You, pretty girl, come keep me company!"

They all laughed. Word was not only did the girl want a shot at her, but her male friend did, too.