Darkin - Lance's Voice

**Note that the 3rd gender pronouns are incorrect in this book. It was written long before I realized what they should be and the keptisch is therefore referred to by the pronoun that reflects his/her pre-shed status**

Chapter 1 – Building a Relationship

Lance walked briskly through a long corridor in the Heart of the Darkin Empire. He could feel his ears shifting color, nervousness and worry pulled at one side of his mind, anticipation and excitement at another. He had two appointments today that he was looking forward to. The Darkin captain moved with the grace of his training, sure in his place here, despite his long absence. His first military duty had been part of guarding this station, an honor he had not taken lightly. The Assassination attempt on the President, resulting in the loss of the President’s partners, shocked the entire Empire. Guards had been doubled, and soon after, Lance met the requirements for joining to defend his leader. He looked around now with fondness. The station had changed a lot in the last twenty years. He remembered walking these halls so many times that he felt he knew every nook and hidden alcove. Of course, he knew those secret places for other reasons as well.

The edges of his green lips slipped upward as the anticipation grew.

Lance paid no attention to the human servants, trained to serve their Darkin keepers. They dodged out of his way without a word, bowing and giving him the deference his race deserved. As he moved, he straightened the edge of his military attire hoping he looked the part of a captain. That would be important for his meeting with the council. Uncertainty pricked at the back of his mind, but he maintained his focus on his current path; the meeting with the Galactic President could wait a moment.

“Keeper?” A hesitant voice called his attention as a broad-chested, young human with grey eyes and a light yellow-grey hair. The man slipped up, matching his steps, but stayed out of arm’s reach, “Would you like me to accompany you, or would you rather that I store your items in your new quarters?”

“I believe I already told you that I wanted my home to appear lived in by the time I arrived to take my first look.” Lance raised a brow, daring his servant to admit the limitations of his memory.

“No sir, I mean, yes sir, you did say that, but I just wanted to verify that you would not need me before I began moving you in.” He didn’t fidget, to his credit, and he bowed as he stopped his feet. The man couldn’t quite hide the flash of hatred in his eyes though.

Lance made a mental note to do something about the human’s attitude when he was done with today’s meetings, then forgot about the man entirely in favor of more pressing matters.

Military boots were dense, meant for any type of terrain, and to add intimidation. Lance didn’t bother trying to quiet his steps as the heavy boots met biometalic flooring, nearly drowning out the whispered steps of others who scurried along on their own errands. He could have moved with the quiet grace afforded his people, and he could have focused his energy to give himself an extra blast of speed, but he didn’t bother, because he wanted to be seen. He was home now, and he intended to make an impression that the President wouldn’t be able to ignore. The captain loved his people. He loved this Empire, and he also loved one particular female above all others. With a small smile on his thin, pale lips, the green-skinned captain slipped sideways into a less-used section of the station.

Where once this station had housed the Emperor, his council, and all of their families, it now held only the President and his children. Most of the council lived on adjoining stations or the nearby moon. Lance's father, one of the oldest members of the current council, had been the first to build his external home shortly after Lance had shed into adulthood. With a drastic reduction in those who called the Heart home, once-filled common areas seemed empty to the point of being dreary. The old corridors and living quarters were repurposed into storage or re-outfitted to hold soldiers and bunkers.

Lance came to a stop in once such darkened area. The smell of potent Gerdis blossoms sifted through the air, mingling with the sweet wood and packing straw that filled the crates and boxes scattered around the room. The sweet odor drifted around him, but as with her human examples, Janie tended to wear it heavily, cloying the air with its fragrance. He scanned until he found the fidgety, Darkin female, half-hidden behind a crate. Love her he might, but some of her habits drove him to distraction. With a gentle shake of his head he continued toward her.

She rose from her place, and Lance touched his hands to hers in a gesture of intimate welcome. His voice seemed to lower on its own accord, "You're sure we are alone?" He felt foolish for his nervousness, but even seventy years wasn’t enough to overcome the fear of being caught, "The President will kill us if he finds us."

"Lansetisch,” her tone teased, “My father isn't the only one. Your parents would be upset as well." She giggled in her high pitched trill, a nervous gesture.

To the Darkin’s tiny ears, the discordant and unusual tone of her voice grated miserably. Janie’s careful control kept it from being overwhelming, but the high frequency still made Lance cringe. For this reason, she had spent most of her life in the care of the human servants; no Darkin nanny would care for the child, even if her father was the President of the entire Galaxy.

Lance smiled lightly at her, trying to ignore her human-like habit of nibbling on her lip when she was nervous, "My parents I can deal with, your’s is the one that scares me." The green tinge of her skin darken slightly around her ear lobes. She looked toward the ground furtively in an attempt to avoid his gaze but this only irritated him. He wished she could leave behind these disgusting habits now that she was an adult, "What is it Janie?"

She began her sentence by stammering a few times and again he consoled himself with the knowledge that once they were joined, he would be able to get her away from humans completely and hopefully reverse the damage their foul species had done to the girl.

"I, I know it is not my place. I know that as a female, I should wait for the request to be made of me, but I fear that we may never have such an opportunity if we do not seize it."

Lance lifted her chin with his lengthy fingers and looked into her soft, violet eyes, "I am the dominant, but that does not mean I am domineering. You may speak as you wish, always."

The edges of her mouth lifted slightly at his encouraging tone, her eyes grew resolute and she nodded once, "I agree with you Lansetisch, I can see exactly what you're saying about the council. They have begun to stagnate. You and Malofinsch do what you can, but until your parents pass away you have no authority to change anything."

Lance forced an outward smile, biting back the accumulating annoyances in her behavior and words. She must have caught his expression because her eyes fell to the floor and she cut herself off with a mumbled apology.

"No," Lance completed a quick count to ten, controlling his temper, "no, I understand what you're saying, but we've talked about this before. I said those things when I was young and naive; Mal and I were just kids. Their proactivity in the last few years is starting to show; the war is turning in our favor."

                She looked at the floor again and he could see that he had missed something. When she spoke her high voice was soft, "it is not really about the war Lance, I am more concerned with us. My father is getting more and more hostile to the idea of allowing me to make my own decisions. In another year I may not have a say in my future at all."

Lance scoffed. "But that's always been the Darkin way. The only gender of the three with the capability to affect a full union, to join heart and mind, is the dominant. The female and the keptisch must be chosen by the dominant. He must be the natural leader of the trio, and becomes the spokesman of the joined minds."

"I know, but-" she started to fidget.

Lance clamped his jaw closed and grabbed her hands to interrupt her. "Stop acting like a human. You are a Darkin. We do not fidget, we do not stutter, we speak our minds clearly and concisely. We have dignity."

This time her eyes darkened noticeably, pastel shifted to deep red-black, flashing dangerously, "Humans have dignity too, we have taken them on as servants, but that doesn't diminish their intelligence." She gave a huff, the sound a mix between the squeal of air released under pressure and a groan of frustration. He watched her eyes roll, adding to the effect, "You just wait, Lansetisch, one day they will cast off their collars and find a way to beat our poisons and when they do, any mistreatment on our part will be dolled right back to us tenfold."

Lance huffed. Rather than shake sense into the young female, he simply turned and smiled, "Let's not talk of such things in the short time we have together. You had a question?"

Janie huffed as well, although she was well under control already, "I was going to ask you to create a union with me, but maybe we should not."

The simple sentence hit Lance like a physical blow; two actually. First, her audacity in actually approaching him on the subject, and second was her immediate rescission. "Your father and brother would never consent to such a union."

She nodded, though he recognized her determined expression, "yes, they would oppose it, but I refuse to be joined to another simply because they disapprove of your father. Neither has taken an opportunity to get to know you!"

"I cannot do such a thing in good conscience. It would not be right." His mind worked furiously considering the possibility of having her now, and at the same time convincing himself that it was wrong. "Besides, I would lose everything I have gained; I might even lose my future seat on the council."

She shook her head, grunting, "Their approval is a formality. We are adults, and the law is clear; no one else is part of this decision outside of you and I. Besides, my father wouldn't dare take that from your father. The President is so bent on presenting himself as the perfect Darkin, he would never allow anyone to see him acting vindictively."

She had a point on both counts. President Paumatisch made continuous efforts to ensure his likability with the people and with the council. Despite the president’s obvious distaste for Lance's father, the Darkin leader made certain that there was no room for chastisement in his behavior.

Lance forced himself to stop the line of thought, "I need to go." Her arguments and his own longing were doing a good job at overcoming his logic and he would be in trouble if he didn't leave now. "I have a meeting with the council and I need to find my father."

Janie lifted elongated fingers toward the collar of his suit and set it right before looking into his light blue eyes, there was no uncertainty in her bearing like there had been five minutes before, "Say you will consider it. Say you will make me your partner." She pulled herself closer and Lance found his arms around her without conscious thought. "Do not let another dominant take me. I will carry no other Darkin's child." She intoxicated him and she knew it. The solidity of her statement mixed well with his instant jealousy.

"I will take you as my female, but I will do it in the right way – without making enemies. I will earn your father's respect and then I will make you mine." Deliberately, he forced her away and as demoralizing as it was, he nearly ran for the safety of the hall.

It was said that the dominant Darkin ran the relationship, but in Lance's experience the power of the female was the true glue. With his own family, his mother always seemed that the resolver of conflicts, usually to her favor. Until meeting Janie, he had never understood how that worked.

No one looked up as he reappeared, no one spoke. For the first time, Lance began to notice that there was a difference here beyond the physical changes to the station itself. Children had once crowded the halls in his youth, but there were none now. Hurried figures moved with heads bent. The hum of the ship was louder than anything else, and even that felt muted, or dull. This had once been a meeting place for traders, businessmen, and scientists. There were scientists a-plenty now, but those worked for the president’s research center, and the only businessmen wandering the corridors lobbies for individual needs rather than as a voice for many. The air felt different, more sterile. Plants had once graced the corners of each intersection, but that had been the assassin’s hiding spot and they were all removed. Even a decade before, life had still thrived here, but something had changed.

So focused on both his upcoming meeting with the council and the difference in the Heart’s atmosphere, Lance didn’t hear the hurried, heavier steps until he was slammed into the wall. Instinct nearly caused him to rip off the offending limb, but he stopped himself just in time. Apathy replaced surprise as he realized who must be holding him, and he took his time turning to face Janie’s keptisch brother, James.

After the assassination of the President’s partners, James had taken over the role of protective parent to Janie and ever since she shed to adulthood, he’d become a thorn in Lance’s side. The keptisch had his sister’s best interests at heart, but James knew she was considered a disappointment, and that made him all the more protective of her.

In Lance's not-so-humble opinion, James was a bit of a disappointment himself, so he understood the harsh reality of being unwanted. As the President’s firstborn, he had been expected to be a dominant. As a dominant, his place as his father's heir would have been assured. For the first twenty-two years of his life, James was treated like the heir apparent, but his early shedding revealed his true gender – a keptisch, and his parents’ hopes turned toward conceiving another child; another hope for a dominant heir. Cruel whispers said that he was now good for nothing except breeding. Determined and stubborn, like his own keptish parent had been, James fought for and found his calling. He was given unprecedented liberty thanks to his father's position, and the growing lad used it frequently. Now, at the age of 70, James had earned a name for himself as a highly trained and supremely effective Probe – meddling in the thoughts and heads of others. This was the biggest reason Lansetisch feared the man. The idea of having a Probe messing around in his mind made Lance shudder in disgust.

Venom covered the keptish’s teeth, showing off his extreme anger even before Lance’s eyes met his darkened ones. Lance felt only mild annoyance and kept his expression bored as he stared the keptisch down. In his mind, he cursed Janie's human servant. Though he had yet to prove it, he knew Janie told the woman everything and that the servant, in turn, passed on anything relevant to James.

"You have a meeting set with my sister again?" The Probe's eyes were dark and dangerous, "I thought we had discussed this?"

Lance scoffed, "You act as though you're her father. Perhaps you need to step back and look at the real picture. I will make your sister my female. I love her and she loves me."

"My father will never allow-"

Lance cut the Darkin off with an angry growl, "Your father will have no choice but to accept me once I have proven myself to him."

"Proven yourself?" James sneered, "What is there to prove? You're just like your father: arrogant and hot-headed. Do not think that your latest actions have slipped my father’s notice. You nearly lost your destroyer because you are so eager to prove yourself. No one wants to serve with you, no one will volunteer to be on your ship, and everyone we force onto it transfers back off as soon as they can. You're a liability."

Lance closed his fist and ground his teeth, but maintained his silence. It was true that he had caused severe damage to the vessel, but not because of recklessness. His moves had been calculated and supported by his bridge crew. It was also true that changeover seemed was higher than average, but his father had always told him that he was one of the more trusted captains when it came to doing things by the book. His father had said that crews moved through to gain experience, which they could then take to some of the newer vessels. Until this moment, it had never occurred to him to question the older Darkin's logic.

James' face lit with victory, "you will never be good enough for my sister."

Lance broke through the self-doubt, grabbing James’ coat and pushing the other Darkin away lightly. "Who will James? Who will ever match up to your expectations of perfection? Your sister is amazing in every way, but eventually, she will have a Union, and you will no longer be able to interfere in her life. You should get used to the idea." It was obvious that he had hit the mark. James' face dropped into the Darkin version of a pout, changing the color of his lips to a slightly paler green. Lance pressed his advantage, "Let her be happy."

Both Darkin were in their seventies, but it looked more like a teenage battle of wills rather than a discussion between adults who should have known better.

James shoved his rival once more before releasing him, "Stay away from her. You're not good enough." He spun on his heels and walked back down the adjoining hallway before Lance could say a word.

Lance re-adjusted his shirt and watched the overbearing keptisch flee the scene. When he turned, he shook off the encounter without much effort, focusing instead on the massive doorway at the end of the long hall he traveled. All paths led to the council chambers, the Center of the great Heart of the Empire.

The Dominant leadership would be focused on resources for the war with the rebellion for most of the morning, he could have waited a few hours to join the proceedings, but Lance had not attended a meeting in years and missed the experience. Lance’s call to join them was both intriguing and nerve-wracking. Would he be chastised for the near-destruction of his ship, or commended for single-handedly taking out two rebel destroyers? He hoped it would be the latter – the President’s hatred of the rebellion for the deaths of his lovers was well-known. The President had struck back hard and fast, nearly undermining his position in his need for revenge, but the people had demanded that he reign himself in and the council had intervened. Since that time, the President had been a model citizen, pushing the war effort only as far as the will of the people called for it.

Lance’s nerves grew as he neared the massive double doors to the chamber hall. Even with the President’s approval, the council would have to condone his actions or he could be facing severe consequences. He stopped just outside the entrance, ignoring the salutes of the two outer guards, and lifted himself to his full height before stepping inside.