Faux Realm Ch. 08

"- A bomb exploded?" Someone asked. Lucian's ears perked up.

"Yeah someone blew up the toll. I heard there were many people that died." Another voices responded.

Many people were discussing about something exploding. Burning up, among the cacophony of voices he could not distinguish what was true or what was false. Lucian was did not understand most of it, but it certainly looked like war erupted on the streets. Still Ericha was silently sleeping, quiet moans would escape her lips as she was dreaming of something, and Lucian hoped something good.

He continued walking leaving the crowd of onlookers behind him. He wanted to stay and watch, but dead people deserved a graceful death, not a media frenzy. And as if reading his mind a truck with big bright bold letters drove by him. Probably on its way toward the action. Lucian shook his head amazing himself with his prophetic mind.

There were quite few people that looked at him with odd eyes carrying his beloved like a princess, but he did not mind. He enjoyed seeing her contended. Eventually arriving at their inn; he entered and without pausing climbed the stairs towards their rooms. Lucian did not expect to see Liza or Lindsay in their rooms as they were still probably busy in the clinic helping their newest people, but he was surprised when he saw Momoa and Tigga sitting in, what he assumed was their room. But he knew that this room was massive and had multiple rooms and beds alone. This was usual as people who rented these rooms were often in, as Ericha told him before, ships that they spent their time around these people and they were happy to share a room or living area this large.

"What happened?" Momoa sounded worried rising up on his chair.

"Nothing, she's just a bit tired." Lucian smiled knowing what actually happened.

Momoa visibly relaxed, sitting back down and continuing to talk silently with Tigga. Lucian entered the adjacent room that had 4 beds. He gently lowered Ericha on top of one, sitting on its side and gently caressing her curls out of her face.

She slept peacefully. Satisfied sigh escaped her lips as Lucian's hands caressed her cheeks.

Only if he knew what she dreamt off.

***

"I've heard what you did." First officer Amman Daruk said as he watched his captain slump down on the chair opposite of him.

He was drinking merrily when he heard the explosion, sirens and the voices guessing what might've happened to those people. Only he knew what really could happened. Amman knew there were some people from their crew in that place, probably drinking, probably acting unruly without his permission, and he knew how easily Captain Yim lost his temper. Crazier things have happened.

"We have work to do." Yim silently said.

"Again?" Amman said using his three fingered hand to grab next bottle of drink.

Amman saw few people stare at his three fingered hand and reluctantly moved it out of sight. He was careful, most people did not like hybrids. And he was one. He was a child born from a mother that was raped by an alien. Kymerian raped his botean mother. He never knew his kymerian father, but still retained some of his benefits, while his mother died during his childhood. He came to hate Kymerians with a passion. Amman would go out of his way to look for kymerian people whenever he was on his duty. Amman did not look as kymerian though he had some glaring differences from a pure botean, his hand for one, but he still received some gene modification, as he so aptly named it, thicker arms, endurance that rivaled none, and of course endless libido that no woman could quench easily.

People around Amman averted their gazes as soon as he met them, "Didn't we just finish with a job?"

"Have a new client. Wants someone killed." Yim yawned as he ordered his drink.

"Ahh easy money. What does Mother say?" Amman asked.

Yim cocked his head to the side, "I did not tell her."

Amman slowly leaned his elbows against the table, "You do know what happens when she finds out?"

He spoke in a silent foreboding tone, "It's not a matter if, she will definitely find out. And when she does you better prepare a good story."

Yim could only nod. Amman continued looking in the eyes of his friend and Captain, "You know how she can get if she does not get her cut. And if she does get it after finding out you did not say anything, she'll always think you stiffed her."

"And that's tantamount to suicide." With his finger he pocked the surface of the table.

He took a swig of his bottle, relishing on the burn that the drink provided. Alcohol always provided him a safe heaven, "Do you know who?" Amman burped.

Playing with his Pad he poked few times around until a picture of blond haired, blue eyed man appeared on the crystal screen. Yim turned the opened picture and pushed the pad toward Amman, Blinking away the alcohol he said "This the target? What did he do?"

Yim smiled leaning back on his chair, "Does it matter?"

Amman shrugged his shoulders, "No, just wondering. Doesn't look like someone with a bad rep."

"No I guess not. Looks pretty normal." Yim confirmed, nodding his head.

Yim watched Amman's eyes, "Having second thoughts?"

"God no." Amman said. "Just saying. Oh and a warning."

Suddenly atmosphere got tense. Yim glared at the man that issued a warning toward him, he did not liked being threatened at.

"Oh! Tell me what the warning is." Yim growled.

Amman lifted his hand, his three fingers apparent, it was evident he did not lose them since by now his hand was free from the confines of the dark table. People glanced, but quickly averted their eyes. "Relax. Just so you know men are getting itchy. You saw how they lost it back in that bar. I suggest they have a little fun on this one. Let them loose."

"Or you'll have to blow up more bars." He cackled when he saw Yim's expression.

***

Lineas rejoiced.

Finally something went his way. Finally pieces were laid in place and it just needed a little push to form a giant bubble. He wanted to be sure, what is about to be done was left to those that knew how to kill. How to maim and cripple.

Pressing a button on his bright red table he waited for a voice to respond, "Get me a strong drink."

He wanted to celebrate. He needed to let loose. He wondered how he's going to do that in the days to come. There were many people that needed to be paid and the money was astronomical. He had to sell few of his slaves, grease few palms and now he just needed to sit back and watch the action build and unfold.

Yes. All of the pieces were in place. He only needed to observe.

***