The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
29
Laron Tak had to admit as he sat comfortably back in his chair at Iason's dining table, his stomach full and his wine glass cradled in one elegant hand, that he was having a most agreeable time. Considering that he was seated at a table with Iason Mink and Raoul Am, as well as their respective mates, he had assumed that certain formalities would need to be upheld.
He'd been quite mistaken there as it turned out.
The evening thus far was not at all what he had expected. As a host, Iason Mink was remarkably congenial, as was his fiery-natured and extraordinarily attractive mate, Riki. Laron had realized that the evening was going to be quite different from the formal and rather stuffy Elite events he attended in the past from the moment he'd first arrived.
Firstly, Iason had very firmly told him to drop the honorifics. Apparently such things were not au fait in the Mink household anymore.
Laron could see Riki's influence in that.
Iason had also, as had Raoul Am, gone out of his way to welcome Esra with both warmth and grace; to display to him the same kind of respect and high regard with which they treated their own mates. It was clearly evident that Iason Mink and Raoul Am actually lived the legislative changes that Iason had championed, they didn't just impose them. To them Esra was not an ex-Pet, but Laron's mate and an individual citizen in his own right.
It was always very impressive to share time with men of genuine integrity, Laron had quickly concluded.
But what had really struck him was how easily everyone seemed to relate to each other... and indeed, how much they very obviously enjoyed the interactions.
Especially, it appeared, the differing points of view.
The subject currently under discussion was a formative notion by Syndicate administration to turn the official square outside of Jupiter Tower into a kind of public park, a monument to change and growth, available for use by civilians and Elites alike. In his deep and silken voice, Iason was outlining the general points to his Sapphire guest and mate.
"...and when one considers the amount of space currently in Jupiter square that is not being used as anything but a wide concrete pathway, one can see the appeal of a beautification project." A slight smile graced Iason's perfect face as he turned his pale yet warmly twinkling eyes in the direction of his 2IC, his voice taking on a clear note of teasing. "Of course, Raoul will no doubt wish to form a committee."
As Raoul shook his head, swallowing his mouthful of wine and setting his glass down in a very deliberate manner, Laron noticed that his mate, Katze, had acquired an amiably long-suffering expression across his finely built face.
"Committees, Iason," Raoul declared firmly, his own deep green eyes bright with good humor for all that they held a touch of challenge within them, "as you well know, are the backbone of effective administration."
A soft snort from Iason's mate answered Raoul's statement. Leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, the handsome young mongrel grinned almost fondly at the Syndicate's second in command sitting opposite him. "Raoul, I know you love a good committee meeting, but—"
"Ah. Of course," Raoul lifted his hands and threw a little look of mock despair at the ceiling, "Inevitably... the battle is joined by my own personal devil's advocate over there."
The low chuckles around the table indicated louder than words that this was an ongoing contest between Jupiter's foremost biologist and the First Companion... and one that appeared to be equally enjoyed by both parties.
"Hey," Riki winked at Raoul, utterly unabashed, "I seem to recall someone here talking about how a debate couldn't be considered enjoyable unless you had a strong opposing view to contend with."
Raoul's splendid eyes widened in purely false ingenuousness. "I said such a thing?" he looked at Iason, hopefully shaking his head. "I'm sure I wouldn't have said that."
"I cannot speak falsely, my friend," Iason murmured, a slow smirk ever so slightly curving his rich mouth. "You did indeed say that."
Laron felt his lips twitching into an openly amused grin. Under the table, he reached for Esra's warm hand, squeezing gently, pleased to see the flush of enjoyment on his mate's lovely face, the sparkle of genuine high spirits in his large gentle eyes. He had been relatively quiet during the evening, but then such was his nature in new situations. He needed time to assimilate before his more gregarious character traits began to show. However he was coping extremely well nevertheless, Laron proudly noted. Here amidst this eclectic group of highest Elites and slightly less than cultured mongrels, Esra was clearly having a most agreeable time.
As was Laron.
As he had observed earlier, he was still quite taken aback by how convivial everything was. He had expected quite a straight-laced affair. He had prepared for such in any case. What he had gotten was anything but. Obviously the presence of the mongrels, with their earthy humors and down to earth natures would quickly dispel any attempt at snobbery. Oddly, or perhaps not, considering his exposure to them thus far, Esra had not seemed at all surprised by this.
But it was the casual and relaxed attitudes of his Blondie colleagues that really startled the Sapphire.
Iason, and indeed Raoul, were very much within their comfort zones here. That much was clearly evident. What Laron appreciated most of all was the fact that he did not feel as though he and Esra were outside of the warmth. Rather he felt they were included in it.
Welcome.
In fact Esra, with his friendship with Riki and Katze already well established and even taking in account this was technically a new situation, had still been more relaxed than his Elite mate upon arrival. It had not, however, taken Laron long to wind down.
There was affection here, between these four strong and diverse individuals. It was in the conversation that flowed around him, in the fondness of the looks that passed between the people seated around the table. There was a history here, a sense of a journey shared, of troubles faced and overcome, of bonds strengthened like well-tempered steel. There was respect.
Considering everything, Laron felt quite honored to be here.
He began to chuckle softly, the elegant fingers of one hand curled in front of his lips, as the amusing interplay involving the Syndicate's dignified and proper 2IC continued, enjoying this rare opportunity to see such a formidable man with so many of his defenses lowered.
Raoul had turned to his own mate, his expression artfully put-upon. "Katze?"
The striking redhead smiled affectionately and took a long sip from his beer. "Ah... sorry Raoul," he flashed a rather dazzling smile that completely lit his pale face, "but Riki's right. You did say that."
The look Raoul turned in Laron's and Esra's direction was both sorrowful and utterly insincere. "My own mate turns against me, Laron," he shook his head. "What is a persecuted man to do, I ask you."
Grinning, Laron gracefully saluted Raoul with his wine glass. "Brace oneself I would suggest, Raoul," he answered dryly.
Riki's delighted laugher echoed pleasantly to the rafters for a moment and the smugly amused grins around the table widened yet again. Raoul shook his head once more, his expression becoming reasonable. "I would, of course, feel ever more content if I did not suspect my worthy opponent over there," he tilted his chin towards the shamelessly smirking mongrel, "was inclined to take the opposing view to any idea I support on mere principal."
"Oh c'mon," Riki affected a wounded look, the evil sparkle in his eyes completely ruining the effect. "You've gotta be fair here. I never said that a monument park was a bad idea. I said it was a good idea." He looked at his mate, dark brows raised. "Didn't I say it was a good idea?"
Chin in hand, tolerant smile in place, Iason nodded. "You said it was a good idea, Riki," he confirmed.
Katze snickered softly, relaxing back from the table. He crossed his arms comfortably over his broad chest, plainly expecting to be entertained. Laron found himself actually stifling a building laugh when he observed Iason, bland expression not so much as flickering, turn his perfect face to Esra and wink slyly. Against his arm, the Sapphire felt Esra's slender shoulders shaking with the obvious effort of holding in his mirth. Clearly Riki and Raoul's debates were somewhat of a tradition during these dinners, with neither one of their mates inclined to rein them in... Purely because of the amusement value they represented.
"Well then, there you are," Raoul was saying triumphantly. "You agree... and a committee, I think you will also have to concede, is the most efficient structure to administer the project."
"Okay, I'll grant you that point," Riki politely leaned to one side as Dane appeared silently as he ever had when he was in Laron's employ and unobtrusively began to clear the table. "Committees are preferential for administration..."
"Hah!" Raoul gave him an arch look. "Even you admit it."
"...but not design," Riki continued smoothly.
"Surely, Riki, you are splitting hairs here." Raoul raised a golden brow at the mongrel, his expression now ever so slightly touched with a serious light. "What possible difference can the formative administrative structure make?"
Riki matched him manner for manner, Laron noted. "Committees don't touch people's emotions," he replied softly. "It's a fact."
Laron had to admit, the silence that followed Riki's remark was extremely thoughtful.
"Riki?" Iason murmured, a faint contemplative crease forming on his brow.
"Yeah?"
"Keep talking."
Riki grinned again, nodding. "Okay... it's like this," he sat forward, his eyes alight with clarity and intelligence, his manner animated and engaging as he warmed to his subject. "'Jupiter Park' is going to be a monument to change, right? Open to Elites and citizens alike, yes?"
"That is the idea, yes." Raoul's eyes had narrowed thoughtfully, his attention firmly focused on Iason's mate.
"So... you basically want people to like it, to use it," Riki shrugged as if the answer was obvious. "But to get that outcome, you'll need their buy in. You can't just tell them to like it. That won't work."
"Ah..." Raoul murmured under his breath, his brow smoothing as he nodded slowly.
"I see where you're going, Riki," Katze said approvingly. "You're thinking about an open submission for plans and designs, yes? All comers considered?"
"Yeah," Riki picked up his own glass and finished the last swallow of beer. "But I'd see it go a step further. Open up the submission itself to the public, then conduct a public forum to choose the winning design." He grinned again, one shoulder quirking. "Then hand it over to the committee to get it done."
"It's not the way Elites would do it, Riki," Raoul mused, his tone thoughtful but not at all put out.
Riki shrugged again. "Isn't that the point?"
To Laron's endless amusement, Raoul shot an almost flat look at Iason. "Clever little wretch, isn't he?"
Iason chuckled. "He has his moments."
Bowing his head in exquisitely urbane acknowledgement of Riki's point, Raoul picked up his wine glass, nursing it in one elegant hand. "Well done, Riki," he smiled quite benevolently. "You actually won one."
Riki snorted, shaking his head. "You've kept count?"
"Elites always keep count."
"So now," Iason interjected pensively, smoothly moving the conversation forward as he leaned back and almost absently slipped one long arm across the back of Riki's chair and, subsequently, his shoulders as well, "all that remains to us is to find the right individual, who has the right connections, to coordinate the public launch of the submission calling for artists and designers of all métiers."
Laron felt his eyes widen a little when, as one man, the others at the table all turned and looked expectantly at him.
"Ah..." Laron shared a brief look with Esra, his rich mouth curving into a slow smile. "Am I correct when I say that the unspoken offer is one of a joint project between the Department of Arts and Antiquities and the Syndicate Administration?"
As Laron spoke, he contained the surge of enthusiasm that rose unbidden within him.
Just.
Such a project was a lucrative opportunity and would do his department's profile no harm at all.
Katze's rather pleasant laugh answered him. "I would say you've been volunteered, Laron."
Shrugging genially, maintaining his outward poise with magnificent aplomb, Laron glanced sideways once more into Esra's warm eyes. They were bright with excitement and pleasure, the young ex-Pet clearly delighted for his mate's good fortune. "An honor, Katze," the Sapphire murmured. "Truly."
Looking just the tiniest bit self-satisfied, Iason raised his glass in a casually elegant salute. "It would appear that I was quite correct yesterday," he said softly in his deep velvet voice. "You are going to do rather well for yourself."
"It would seem so, Iason," Laron replied just as quietly, his eyes reflecting his sincere gratitude and admiration for his rather exceptional leader. "It would seem so."
As Dane reappeared at that point to serve coffee, Laron slid one arm around Esra's shoulders. As he enjoyed the warmth of his mate's body beside him, the most pleasant atmosphere around the table, and the sincere anticipation of rewarding professional challenges ahead, Laron Tak was filled with pure contentment.
His had been a difficult journey at times; he could admit that freely enough. But he had not regretted a single moment of it. From taking Esra as his Companion, to walking out on Kyle Li's impossible demands, through the uncertainty of a bleak future, to the implausibly miraculous offer made by the most unlikely ally, Sir Tahna Lam. All of it in some way had lead to where Laron was right now... with the great love of his life right beside him, and about to embark on a professional future filled with possibilities.
Life was good, he decided quite happily.
Life was very good indeed.
It was early. The sun, having only just pushed back the comfortable covers of night, was still slowly rising. A light mist, mere wisps of evaporating moisture, still wreathed here and there about the massive runways and the wide tarmac that surrounded the concourse. Yet even at this hour there was movement and life.
Interstellar transports, both commercial and solely passenger lines, still continued to arrive and depart at regular intervals. Many of the commercial ships were boasting federation or independent company branding due to the Syndicate's more favorable view on open trade, while most of the passenger charters were Amoian in make; taking residents both civilian and Elite to and from planets within Amoian territory.
People moved through the main concourse, toward check-in points, along vast corridors and into comfortably appointed boarding lounges. Outside on the tarmac, buzzing swiftly to and from various grounded ships, baggage handlers and technicians alternately unloaded, checked and reloaded various baggage and cargo holds.
In a small and elegant private class lounge, reserved for high ranking Elites and visiting dignitaries, a small group had gathered. The transport that two of this group would shortly board was unique from the other ships as a passenger vessel.
It was a private charter... and it was very clearly a federation class ship.
Standing beside his admittedly gorgeous – even at this hour – Blondie, Chey Neeson smiled as he watched Tahna talking quietly with Laron Tak and Esra, passing a few final words of farewell.
Although Tahna had been quite insistent on no 'fuss', as he called it, around his departure having personally conducted farewells to those few rare souls in Elite society that he felt deserved it, the Sapphire and his mate had nevertheless arrived only a few minutes earlier. They seemed a little weary from a social evening at Iason Mink's residence, yet determined to see Tahna off anyway.
To his credit, the splendidly haughty Blondie had refrained thus far from passing any cutting remarks about Laron and Esra disobeying his directive to 'simply let him get on with it', which served to indicate to Chey that Tahna was touched by their efforts.
At least a little bit...
Chey manfully controlled a rueful grin as he realized he did feel a certain amount of empathy for the tired pair. He knew well enough how late dinners with Iason Mink and Riki could go, especially when joined by Raoul Am and his dryly witty mate, Katze. Time really could fly when one was being that well entertained.
For his own part, Chey had made a personal call to Iason's cell, passing a few moments in pleasant conversation as he brought the Syndicate leader up to speed on certain pertinent details of his own personal situation, asking a rather important question and happily receiving the answer he had been hoping for. Ideally, he would have gone to see Iason in person for such a thing... but over the past few days he'd had far more pressing priorities. Iason had understood. For all of his characteristic aloofness the Elite leader was, as Chey had noted before, rather a soft touch concerning matters of the heart.
Chey's focus in recent days, for course, had been Tahna... and the senior statesmen had not been about to abandon his post even for a short while. To his ever-watchful eyes his Blondie appeared to be coping admirably well with the finalizing of his relocation, considering the myriad of details that had needed to be addressed, not to mention the inevitable 'irritatingly emotional' aspects of the whole thing. Part of Tahna's composure, Chey knew, was very much due to the Elite sense of self control. Yes, Tahna was more capricious than the average Elite; it was one of the many reasons Chey adored him so, but the Blondie still also ably demonstrated many of the more typical inborn Elite behaviors.
Additionally, Tahna's own phenomenal organizational abilities and almost eidetic memory had helped events to proceed along smoothly. And then, of course, Chey had virtually shadowed Tahna for the last few days. The Blondie had said he had wanted his lover with him and that was exactly what Chey had ensured he got. Never obtrusive, not interfering in any manner or form, but constantly available in the event Tahna needed assistance, or a sounding board, or indeed just someone to hiss at when things got a little too much.
Generally a few tender kisses to a petulantly scowling face put paid to that behavior, however.
But still, as well as Tahna was bearing up, Chey knew his intended very well indeed. Tahna was the one making the big sacrifices in this transaction. That, all on its own, added an additional level of stress. And it was quite true that Tahna wanted the lucrative secondment; wanted his spouse and even the annoyingly endearing 'rabble' that came as part of that deal. In short, Tahna wanted what Chey and the federation was offering more than he wanted what he already had on Amoi.
But, Chey understood very well that it was his responsibility to ensure that didn't change; that his soon-to-be spouse never had any cause to regret the choice he had made.
Chey would do what he had to in order to make sure of that. It was in Chey Neeson's nature to take strong accountability for those things that mattered, and Sir Tahna Lam of Amoi was certainly at the top of that list. Because Chey loved him and was sensitive to his surprisingly fragile feelings, he vowed to be watchful, to note and act immediately on signs of anxiety or upset.
To be there for his spouse.
Chey would change his life in a heartbeat if Tahna were to ask it of him. That much was no contest.
If, after the first year of Tahna's secondment ended and he chose not to take the option to renew... If he decided that Amoi was where he wanted to be, then it would be Chey's turn to relocate. No question.
Actually... Chey felt his lips purse into a thoughtful kind of moue... the federation didn't have an embassy on Amoi.
He grinned slyly.
At least, not yet they didn't.
It was just a nebulous idea, of course, something to keep in reserve in case it was needed. And certainly knowing the right people would be very helpful if the idea were to ever reach fruition. For example, knowing – say, ohhh... Iason Mink – would be quite useful. There were definitely benefits to networking in the right circles.
And Chey was reasonably certain that Tahna would not mind being espoused to an ambassador.
Placing a gentle hand on Tahna's lower back, Chey smiled warmly down into Esra's large dark eyes. The young man gave him a friendly grin in return, before turning his attention back to the conversation occurring between Tahna and his own quite strikingly beautiful Sapphire.
"...quite serious," Tahna was saying, "if you require my counsel, Laron, you are to contact me." The Blondie's expression was its usual artfully lofty mask of mild and unconcerned disdain, but his gaze was very direct, his splendid eyes notably sober. "You have the contact details of my office at the Elldaren Prime University, as well and mine and Chey's home number. You are to use them, are we agreed?"
Laron, who had evidently learned to read Tahna's demeanor accurately of recent times, nodded with all due gravity. He extended his hand, taking Tahna's in a firm grip and shaking it in a businesslike manner. "We are agreed, Tahna, I assure you." Laron bowed his head again to the Blondie with a profound kind of dignified respect. "You have given to me the kind of opportunity that I have coveted all of my life and, in doing so, you have entrusted me with your magnum opus. Do not ever think that I don't realize this," his rich mouth quirked into a tiny smile. "Trust me as I have trusted you. I will take able care of your department while it is in my keeping."
Chey could tell, in the slight relaxing of the tension around Tahna's eyes, in the small smile that mirrored Laron's; that the Blondie had liked what he had heard. He inclined his head urbanely and released the Sapphire's hand. "You had better," he declared archly, that familiar wicked twinkle entering his eyes once more, "because I must tell you... if I have to return here to put the erstwhile Sir Kyle back in his place again, I shall be most discontented."
Laron chuckled warmly, a deep rich sound, as Tahna turned to Esra and gently placed his hands on the ex-Pet's slender shoulders. "Look after him, young man," the Elite said softly. "He is going to need it."
Esra lifted his chin, the look in his eyes an odd mix of fierce pride and unyielding determination. "I will, Sir Tahna." His sensual mouth curved into a wry little smile. "And you may trust me on that."
Tahna loosed a soft huff of amusement as he released Esra and moved toward the last member of the little party gathered in the lounge, nervously awaiting his turn. In Tahna's wake, Chey warmly shook hands with Laron and Esra both, passing a few brief words of farewell. As he concluded, he heard his lover heave a little sigh the tone of which, Chey would have sworn, was almost sorrowful.
He smiled slightly, hanging back to allow Tahna and the odd little gentleman who had played such a key role in the success of the Blondie's department to have their moment with at least the illusion of privacy. Quite frankly, with his skinny shoulders already hunched inwards unhappily and his pinched face flushed red with upset, Chey could see that Quinn at least would very much appreciate it.
As for his elegantly disdainful Blondie..? Well, in all honesty, Tahna had been handling Quinn's peculiarities for a long time now. He had no doubt whatsoever that he'd be able to keep the diminutive curator on track.
One last time...
For Sir Tahna's part, although the farewell with Laron and Esra had passed with acceptably little sentiment, he knew that Quinn was going to be a rather different matter.
Looking almost somberly into his former P.A's face Tahna extended his hand, taking Quinn's in a firm grip and shaking it almost gravely. "Quinn...," he murmured, his rich voice low and his beautiful eyes looking steadily into Quinn's.
"Sir Tahna... Sir," Quinn broke off and swallowed hard, his thin little face creasing with the effort of maintaining his composure, "I – I just... Sir, from the very start and... erm, well it's... thank you, and... for your... just seeing, y'know? ...Uhm?"
With great effort, Tahna managed to keep a straight face. For all that he'd ever delighted in casual cruelty to his peculiar little P.A, Tahna Lam still had an exquisite sense of the appropriate. Now was not the time to take the little man to task for his unfortunate verbal stumbling.
"Do you know, Quinn," he observed lightly instead, "I actually understood that? And you are most welcome." He flashed a dazzling smile before wrinkling his perfect nose slightly. "You've always been a rather odd little person, but I cannot deny that you have also been an effective one."
"Well, thank you, Sir," Quinn released a relieved breath now that his actual 'goodbye' speech was done.
Tahna inclined his head in Laron's direction, his demeanor sobering for a moment. "I'll be counting on you, Quinn," he said softly. "Do everything in your power to help Laron succeed at this. Help him to take the best possible care of the department that you and I adore so much."
Quinn nodded, his jaw setting firmly, his grip on Tahna's hand tightening for a second. "I won't let you down, Sir Tahna, Sir," he replied, not a stutter to be heard. "I promise you."
"I know you won't." Tahna released his hand and stepped back to Chey's side. "Oh! By the way, Quinn... if I were you I would take a little look at my personal credit account when I got home from the space port." He smiled wickedly and lifted an artfully blasé shoulder. "I've... left a little something there for you."
With that said, he turned and headed towards the boarding gate, sighing softly as Chey concluded a brief word or two with Quinn and he once more felt his lover's hand, warm and comforting as always, curl around his elbow.
"Just out of interest," Chey murmured as they paused at the gate to wave a final farewell to the watching trio in the lounge, "when you say – 'a little something'..."
Tahna shot him a wicked little look from lowered lashes as they moved through the gate and along the boarding ramp. "Mmm?"
"What kind of 'little something' are you talking about here?"
Tahna's rich mouth curved into a smug little smile. "Oh... the kind of 'little something' that would allow Quinn and his father to purchase a mid-level apartment in Eos Tower today if they so desired."
Chey chuckled and shook his head. "You never do anything by halves do you, love?"
"Not if I can help it."
"He'll damn near have a heart attack when he sees that much money."
Stopping just before the entrance dock to the transport ship, Tahna shook his hair back from his face and arched an elegant brow. "Quite frankly, Chey, if he and Laron can make this thing work then what I have given him will be only a fraction of what he'll deserve. Have no illusions... they both – and Esra, just in passing – will have long hard year ahead of them."
Chey's expression mirrored Tahna's seriousness. "Do you think they'll be able to pull it off?"
"Oh, honestly," Tahna snorted at him, rolling his beautiful eyes upward in mock-despair. "Do you think I really would have agreed to leave Amoi if I didn't?"
Grimacing, Chey shook his head. "Walked right into that one, didn't I?"
Tahna merely smiled, every inch the self-satisfied and superbly snooty Blondie that he was. "Chey?"
"Mmm?"
"Let's just get on board, shall we?"
With a soft chuckle and an urbane guiding hand to Tahna's lower back, Chey gestured towards the open dock. "Whatever you wish, Tahna Lam. Whatever you wish."
The journey itself... – chapter 28 << >> The journey itself... – epilogue