Was that just because this was the only place she had any memories of, and she'd begun to think of it as home? If that was the case, a pirate vessel that was constantly engaging in deadly battles didn't seem like a great home.
Just before they reached her cabin Aiden abruptly spoke up, making her jump in surprise. “By the way, the Deeks didn't honor the Accords.”
Lana looked at him blankly. “What?”
He looked away down the corridor. “Not saying it's an excuse for tossing the crew of the Implacable out an airlock, since this actually happened afterwards. But the Preservationists stupid enough to surrender to the Movement at the end of the war were all rounded up and disappeared.”
She shivered slightly at his tone. “Killed?”
“As good as.” The captain's hands clenched into fists again. “Some of the databases from the first Deek ships we captured after the war hinted at their fate. They were all shipped to some barred spiral galaxy tens of thousands of kiloparsecs outside of the section of the universe we've explored. The Deconstructionists terraformed a planet orbiting some yellow dwarf to serve as a penal colony, then scoured the minds of all the Stag prisoners and-”
“Scoured?” she interrupted, perking up. “How is that different from wiping?”
“It's total,” Aiden replied curtly. “With the wipe, you lost all your memories but you still have your language skills, the ability to recognize things you knew before. The Deeks took everything from those poor stellar chaff, then left them to survive on a primitive planet.”
Lana shuddered, trying to imagine it. What if, instead of waking up in the medical bay aboard the Last Stand, she'd found herself lying in the middle of a field on some alien planet? Unable to even speak to the people around her, not knowing what anything was. Almost like being a baby, but with no one to protect or provide for her.
“That's practically a death sentence,” she whispered.
“Practically,” he agreed. “And even for those who survive, they're doomed to basically live like cavemen on that planet. The Deeks erased all records of its location and even its existence not too long after they completed their “project”. So even if we do continue exploring and colonizing the universe under their rule, which seems unlikely at this rate, it might be tens of thousands of years before we ever get out that far. By then they might have repeated the entire evolutionary process of humans on Homeworld, relearned language and created societies and began to rediscover basic technologies.”
Lana found herself wishing he'd just kept quiet about all this. “You have every reason to hate the Deconstructionists,” she finally said. “It's hard to even imagine such cruelty.”
Aiden nodded. “Deeks might have no imagination in most areas, but they excel at finding ways to punish those who disagree with them. But of everything they've done, it's safe to say taking away people's memories, everything that makes them them, is the thing I have a special contempt for.” He shuddered. “That, or maybe their Dormants. But that's a whole different sort of mind rape.”
She waited, not sure she wanted him to describe yet another monstrous Deek cruelty to her. But to her relief, he didn't elaborate on whatever a Dormant was. “Is that why you helped me?” she asked after a short silence. “Because my mind was wiped?”
He gave her a surprised look, then shrugged with a slightly crooked smile. “Maybe. I suppose I've got a special place in my cold, dead heart for Blank Slates, considering the fate of so many of my friends.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe I'm just a sucker for a pretty face.”
She felt her cheeks flushing and found herself unable to think of a response. “Good night, Captain,” she finally said, palming her door and retreating into her cabin.
* * * * *
Lana was up early the next morning.
She'd been too nervous and excited at the prospect of starting her duties as an official member of the crew to sleep well, and had finally given up and dragged herself out of bed. Then, following the urgent demands of her body, she'd visited the facilities before finally making her way to the galley to find something to eat.
Captain Aiden had joked about being a stern taskmaster, but she hoped he didn't boss her around the way her body seemed to.
She'd made straight for the locker holding the processed meat, and was just about to grab a can and head to the table, when a silent figure appeared beside her. Jumping slightly, Lana turned in time to see Dax opening a nearby locker that had been empty last time she checked it.
Now it was full of food. Food with bright packaging that showed delicious looking pictures, and clear instructions on how to prepare it with common shipboard appliances.
He turned to her. “Captain Aiden assigns me with ordering supplies from station vendors whenever we make a stop. The twins usually buy their own food, much more expensive than what the budget the Captain gives me allows for, so I usually just buy for me and him. But when I noticed you'd eaten some of my processed meat, I figured I should order you some food as well. So this is yours.”
She felt her cheeks redden. “Thanks. And, um, sorry for eating your meat.”
The young man's expression didn't change in the slightest, and his voice remained neutrally precise and clipped. Yet somehow she almost thought he was . . . amused? “The food I buy for myself is cheap, which the Captain finds no reason to complain about,” he explained. “And it's bland enough that nobody else tries to take it, which prevents unnecessary conflict. You're welcome to keep eating it
