Of Smoke and Stardust [[COMPLETE]]]

CHAPTER 9-ALYA

            Every inch of Alya flamed with an overwhelming hatred. It flared in her chest and her vision swarmed with blinding red. She heard it all, every line of the conversation, every word of manipulation. She wanted nothing more than to stalk up to Parker, and punch his face into a blood pulp. She didn't care if he was already wounded.

            Her hands balled into fists at her sides. Parker looked up, his expression guilt stricken, but that face wasn't enough to swindle her. Alya glared right into his eyes.

            "Look, It was—" Parker started, but before he could continue further, Alya lunged at him, grinding Parker onto the metal tabletop behind him, and sending all the tools flying around the infirmary. Her left elbow pressed down onto his throat. Parker let out a choked grunt that sent a twisted pleasure through Alya's veins. She trained an ERG right between his eyebrows.

    "You son of a bitch...how dare you trick Zion like that? Using Ela's name?" Alya hissed through clenched teeth, her voice hoarse. She was feeling sick through and through. She yanked him up by his collar and slammed him into the table, harder this time. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

            "'Cause I'm too handsome to die young?" Parker tried smartly, despite his voice being rough and strained. Even with a split lip he had the nerve to act like this was a joke. Alya's temper ignited even more.

    "Wrong answer," she growled.

    Parker's eyes flashed darkly, the depth of which made her stomach twist. "Pretty sure your captain wouldn't be too happy with his informant gone." Parker shifted a bit onto the table so she wasn't cutting off his air. The movement was so smooth—so easy for him—it made Alya feel embarrassed for thinking she had the upper hand on him.

    "You're disgusting." Her lip curled up in a snarl, her voice slick with venom. If her comment made Parker flinch inwardly, he certainly didn't let it show on his face.

     "Well, we don't get many showers in prison."

    Alya pushed her elbow deep into his throat.  "Stop messing around!"

    Parker coughed, almost choking on his own breath, but Alya was indifferent to his pain. The anger blazing in her chest numbed any pity she would feel. Parker grabbed her arm and pulled it away so he could breathe again. Even after the fighting match, running for his life, and being injected with the sedative, he still had strength. It pissed her off even more.

    "I never wanted to use Ela...Not like that." He gulped in air and swallowed, meeting her eyes. In place of his usual insolence, sternness lined his feature; hard and determined. His lips thinned into a line. "You'd do the same if you were me. Don't even try denying it."

    Alya loosened her grip. "I don't know what situation you're in." She straightened her spine, and leaned back on her feet. "But whatever you're planning, Parker, I'll have my eyes on you from now on. One wrong move and I'll be the one to put a bullet in your heart."

    With that, Alya stormed out, leaving Parker standing alone in the infirmary, his gaze still burning her way. Her face flamed with resentment, her heart beating rigorously in her throat. Alya hurried up the flight of stairs that led to the upper level. The bridge was the first place she hoped to find Zion.

    Once at the entrance of the bridge, Alya peered inside. It was eerily quiet compared to the chaos running though her mind and veins; a sudden cold icy calm after the furry and yelling she just released at Parker below. Inside, Rowan had taken the co-pilot's chair beside Kizer in the cockpit, his eyes fixed on the screen before him, collecting coordinates.

     But no sign of Zion on the control deck.

    With a sigh, Alya silently crept away from the bridge. She didn't want the others to know what went down in the infirmary, and have them worry about Zion, nor was she in any mood to deal with questions. Alya moved further to the left from the bridge, in the direction of the Nav Station. As she drew closer, she glimpsed Jorrit through the open door, alone, hunching over the monitors and working on inputting data. She paused at an arm's distance from the threshold, disappointed in not to finding her captain inside.

    Before Alya could turn and walk away on silent feet, Jorrit looked up. "Is everything okay?" He asked, pushing back his glass over his nose.

    Alya stared for a moment, then swallowed down her nerves. "Fine."

    "Yeah." Jorrit smiled a bit uneasily. "Having all those prisoners aboard makes me uneasy too."

    Sometimes Jorritt's naiveté came in handy. He was a nice kid, though a bit shy and withdrawn. Being the youngest Hawk member would usually put a lot of pressure on someone, but it never seemed to bother him. His parents were in constant travel, so Jorrit never had a planet to call home. He only enrolled in the academy when scouted by an admission general after he helped them close a case with his skills. Even in the academy, he'd been a loner, satisfied with being surrounded with his electronics and net forums.

    With a relieved breath, Alya nodded and turned on her heel, heading back into the main ship and to the right. She made sure she was out of sight and hearing range before she picked up her pace.

    The only place left now was the crews' quarters. Alya raced down the corridor, to the west wing, where their rooms were. Bright white walls blurred her vision as she dashed past the doors and around corners. She came to an abrupt halt as a scream echoed through her ears. It came from one of the identical looking white washed doors lining the hallway. Alya's chest heaved for air. She swallowed and held her breath to listen. Another scream followed, raw and pained; accompanied with something smashing.

    She tried to turn the handle, but the door to Zion's room was locked. Alya stood there, not daring to knock. She had seen him loose him temper before and knew it wasn't the right time to deal with him, not when he was on the brink exploding. Alya leaned in and pressed her ear to the door. The pained fury had muffled into faint whimpers. It killed her not to see him, not to break the damn door and go to his side and comfort him.

    Alya had known Zion for a long time, back when she was a dare devil of ten and he was a goofy boy of sixteen. He was a cadet in the Academy, visiting Arsania at her father's political campaign. she had climbed out of her penthouse window to catch a Clourian hummingbird and slipped. Whileeveryone else was screaming, it was Zion who rushed to her recuse, and caught her before she would fall sixty feet to the unforgiving ground below. He held her tiny hand in his bigger one, uttering promising words of courage and bravery as she dangled from the ledge.

    If it weren't for him that day Alya wouldn't have been alive to sail through the space now. Since then, she had looked up to Zion like a brother, a guide, a friend. She had followed his steps to become a Hawk, and would follow his lead anywhere, without a doubt or question, from up above to down hell. She had seen him in his darkest and weakest moment, had watched him rise to glory, and so had she witnessed his downfall. From a hailed hero to a disgraced soldiered, beloved to berserk. When he fell into madness, a rage so violent and destructive to avenge his wife and unborn child that drove him into killing so many people—everyone he deemed guilty, was just countless.

    Ela, Zion's wife—the single thought was enough to instigate a sharp pain in Alya's chest. She slid down the door, slumped into ground, closed her eyes, and went back to the day Zion married Ella—a bright memory shinning in her mind like a distant star. Ella looked radiant on their wedding eve, wearing a gown that glossed like gossamer web and a head circlet made of flowers. They looked so happy together, so lost in each other, but even in Alya's worst nightmares, she never thought their happiness would turn into constant misery so quick— would cost Zion his sanity.

    And Parker, Alya reflected with disgust, she'd never forgive him for bringing back the bitterness she had thought long gone.