To say that the two years that I spent as a “guest” of the pirates were rough would be an incredible understatement. I have never bothered the ask Mister Troy why it took two years for his people to get me free, but then I haven't really talked to my father-in-law... former father-in-law since I was freed. I know he blames me for his daughter's death because if she had never met me, she would still be alive and probably running Panda Freight herself by now.
Whenever I catch myself thinking that same thing Delanna reminds me that she may well have died on Earth if we hadn't met. I never know what to say to that.
Looking back on it now, I would honestly have to say that my time in captivity probably saved me. It kept me from killing myself, or hunting down Marshall and killing him.
Or both.
Not being particularly skilled technically, and not being willing to join up with them, they put me to work dismantling their captured ships. This was a little more than three years after the pirates were almost wiped out when their super-destroyer was defeated, and they were still trying to rebuild the organization.
They beat me pretty much every day; certainly more than the other “guests”. I think this was largely because they found out that our ship, CCV Russian Unicorn, had been present at their big defeat. Of course they also may have realized that my sister, Sarna, had deserted their group shortly before that battle, and had even become a crew member on the CSV Deus Ex Machina... well, the second one at any rate; I think the original was destroyed before she officially joined them.
I never fought back when they beat me. I can take a punch or twenty, and it was the only way I could sleep. Having lost Delanna, and then having to help dismantle my own ship... mine and Delanna's... had left me with a strange mixture of despair and rage. It may seems strange, but I never really blamed the pirates for Delanna's death; I held Marshall one hundred percent responsible for it, in my conscious mind at least.
Although I have been reconsidering that these last couple of days.
After they beat me into unconsciousness, I used to dream that I was still aboard the Unicorn with Delanna. The dreams were always the same; the ship was silent like it was after Marshall sabotaged the engines, and we were drifting in space.
I would look around flight control; Delanna would be sitting in one of the seats while the other three were empty. We never did have four people working the Unicorn, just the two of us and an ever-changing engineer who usually stayed out of flight control. That was common though, I've never met a corporate or civilian freighter that actually ran with the amount of crew that their ship was designed for.
“What's wrong with the ship?” I would ask.
Delanna would rise from her seat, and turn to me, “It's over, Zane.”
“What's over?”
“This, us, everything. It's time for you to begin again.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Think, and you'll remember.”
Then I would notice the burn mark on the front of her coveralls, “No!”
“Zane.”
“No, I don't want to remember.”
“I'm sorry, but you have to.”
Rage would fill me then, “Marshall!” I would say his name as if it were the filthiest word I could think of.
“Calm.”
“I'm gonna frassing zip that quot!”
“Killing him won't bring me back.”
“It'll make me feel better.”
“No it won't.”
I would break down then. I knew she was right, but I felt helpless; impotent. I wanted to do something, but there was nothing I could do.
“But he killed you.”
“No, he didn't.”
“He sabotaged the ship! He worked with the pirates.”
“And I fought them. I should have let them capture me... I'm sorry for that.”
“It's Marshall's fault!”
“You know that it is mine as much as his. You will need to accept that eventually.”
We would stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other, not saying anything while I tried to get my emotions under control. I always failed.
“I don't want to live without you,” I would say as the tears would start to stream down my face. Delanna would put her arms around me at this point
“I'm afraid the universe doesn't care what we want. The universe is a bastard like that.”
“I'll kill myself,” I would say, “I'll make the pirates kill me.”
“You will not!” she would say sharply, pushing away from me.
“Why not?”
“Troys do not give up!”
“I'm not a Troy, I'm a Del Rathi.”
“You became a Troy when you married me, and I did not marry someone who gives up. I married a man who risked his life to save mine. I married a man who never gave up on our relationship even when we were worlds apart.”
“You married a useless Lunar, just like your dad said.”
“You know I don't like that kind of talk.”
“You're not here anymore,” I would say, as if trying to hurt the feelings of this figment of my imagination.
It would work too; Delanna would always slap me across the face then, “Does that feel like I'm not here?”
I would rub my cheek, “No.”
“I told you when we got married that I will always be with you. You will never be alone. I am always with you.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Live,” she would say, and kiss me, “Live life for both of us. Father will buy your freedom, and then you go and do whatever you want. Return to work, or do something new. Whatever you do I will be there.”
That's when I would always wake up, and the pain of my latest beating would flood into me as I would reach up to rub the very real tears from my bruised face. It was dark in the cargo bay that the pirates kept all of us in, and only those with teched eyes would have been able to see me crying, but I am sure they all knew I was. It's not like I was the only what that cried though; no one was there without having lost something.
I have spent the last eight years trying to put all of that behind me. My anger at Marshall; the pirates. I tried to go back to work as a spacer, but I couldn't do it, and it's not like Mister Troy wanted me around anyway. I get a decent pension though, enough to live on, so I settled on New London to try and make my new life.
With help from Delanna, the Delanna that still lives on inside my head, I thought I had put my feelings about Marshall behind me. I thought I had finally moved on enough that when I got that message from him asking to meet with me, I thought I would be able to handle it, but when I saw him walk into that cafe it all came back.
I want to feel a certain satisfaction that he is dying now, but Delanna was right about that; his death will not make me feel better. Delanna was always right, and being dead has done little to change that.
She has been visiting my dreams again these last couple of nights.
“Call him,” she tells me, “Call him, and help him find his peace.”
“The only peace he should have is the kind you rest in!”
“That doesn't even make any sense.”
“He should frassing die!”
“If you help him find peace, maybe you will find some too.”
Delanna was always right... so maybe....