Chapter Text
Not that Keema didn’t like parties in general, but this particular one was way too loud, too crowded and too suffocating for her liking. Music was killing her ears; lights were tearing tired eyes. In addition, someone standing by the entrance let out smoke (probably narcotic one) right to her face, so now she felt herself on edge of an inevitable headache and nausea. Speaking of inevitable – Keema noticed her sister, getting to her through the crowd, another shady companion following her closely. Samora had never been overparticular in her connections and it looked like she invited the whole Port, including this new friend of hers. The man didn’t seem trustworthy – he smiled too much and drank too little.
“Keema, this is Reyes,” Samora said cheerfully, tugging her companion closer so unceremoniously, that Keema almost spilled her wine all over him. “He is human, and a bit strange but I’m head over heels!”
She didn’t wait for Keema’s response and whirled away like a lilac tornado noticing some of her acquaintances in the crowd.
“My pleasure,” Reyes tilted his head, somehow sensing that Keema didn’t want to be touched.
“You are the third “I’m head over heels” one this month,” Keema informed without further ado. Her sister’s companions usually were the same as she was – noisy and irritative, so she didn’t see any sense in unnecessary pleasantries.
“I’d say we should wait for next month’s statistics before jumping to conclusions,” Reyes answered and smiled – in a totally different manner, one she actually liked.
Keema just snorted, sure that she was right.
But he didn’t disappear, staying in a close range – like some predator, circling around the potential prey. At another party, more intimate this time, he had the impertinence to follow her out of the room to the balcony and even closed the door to make music quieter. Music was loud, and totally not angaran – her sister was catching on alien culture the same way she always did with men and gossip – quickly and irresponsibly, like a disease.
“You don’t like me, do you?” he asked, eyeing her with some expectation. Like a sniper waiting for the best chance.
“Should I?”
He shrugged, like saying – why not? Keema fished out her cigar case and looked inside, trying to choose. Reyes meanwhile turned, exposing his face to the light breeze, and made a deep breath.
“Well, can’t say I’m good at judging your species,” she was deliberately picking a fight, out of principle. “Are you, at least, pretty?”
He raised his brow – not angry, more entertained by the whole situation.
“Probably, yes,” he lighted her cigarette. “Unless you see it differently?”
Keema was fascinated by human eyebrows. The rest of those hair was strange too, but eyebrows – especially, so unusual and sticking out of the face. Reyes’ eyebrows were black and shiny, like some little furry animals. And agile, too. She wanted to touch, but had already learned that it was not a casual thing among humans.
“I don’t know,” she puffed out the smoke and gave him a look over. “Your colour is nice”
He laughed.
“Your colour is nice, too,” he said. “If you’re interested in my opinion.”
“I thought, all angaras are on the same face for you,” she challenged, but it seemed Reyes didn’t buy provocations.
“Nonsense,” he said lazily. “Let’s take you and your sister, for starters. You are totally different.” Keema tried to hide her joy over the statement, but probably failed. “You seem different from other angaras, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I’m… not like the others,” Keema kept his stare.
“Cool,” Reyes took the cigarette out of the fingers and took a draw. “Me too.”
***
They shared their second cigarette a week later, standing on the roof of Outcasts HQ. The official reason for his visit was returning her sister’s things – by strange coincidence, he had broken up with her after that party a week ago. Or, to be precise, had made her break up with him, feeling guilty in addition. Keema was really impressed and got some ideas about his true intentions.
“Be honest with me – you’re trying to get to Sloan through me?” she asked without any preambles, and was ready to hear excuses. Reyes surprised her again.
“Yes,’ he said, giving her a hard stare.
Keema sneered. Reyes wasn’t the first one she had declined to help solving problems with Kelly. Though, before it had been mostly angaras – hoping for solidarity, probably.
“How smart of you.”
“I am smart, you know.”
“What do you want from her?” the fact that Reyes was going to ask for the favour was surprisingly disappointing. Disenchantment, she realised. She was disappointed that he appeared to be just another person who wanted something not from her, but from her boss – cruel and unapproachable queen of Kadara. And Reyes seemed different. Special.
“Well, I’d rather put it like what I don’t want from her,” he answered and his piercing glare filled the blanks left by unspoken words. And let Keema know how deeply she misjudged the man standing next to her.
She fell silent. It was dangerous to discuss such matters with someone she hardly knew. But how she wanted to...
“And what if I sell you out,” she asked. Not that she really was going to – more to see his reaction.
“Then I’ll sell you out too,” he said slowly and quietly, like explaining things to a child. “If I would have time for that. And believe me, I would – Sloan would love to hear me out.”
“How do I know you are not bluffing?”
“I’m not. But if you’re willing to risk – be my guest,” he dismissively waved his hand, “but keep in mind, that others are risking too. For example, old angara and his daughter, whom you took out of the protection fees list last month. Or guy from the armoury, who’d ‘lost’ a crate of EMI grenades for you.”
It was just small fragments of the bigger picture, and he was making sure that she realised that he knew much more than that.
“Why don’t I just kill you then?”
“Because I’m your only chance,” he made two steps, coming closer to her, and lowered his voice. “I need this planet, Keema.”
“And are you sure this planet needs you?” Long forgotten cigarette burned her fingers and she dropped the stub. “What’s the sense in changing one invader for another?”
“I’m not an invader, Keema,” Reyes chuckled. “Think of me as an effective manager, interested in cooperation and prosperity for everyone. I’m going to live here, after all.”
“Sloan said exactly the same thing at first,” she squinted.
“Did she now? I was there, you know.”
“Ok, she didn’t,” Keema took the next cigarette and gestured asking for light. “What have you got?”
Reyes shrugged.
“Resources,” he answered, seemingly bored. “Men. Not much yet, but I’ve just got started. Maybe you’ve heard of us. The Collective.”
She nodded, feeling a small pang of fear. After that kind of talk she had only one way off this rooftop. Reyes looked calm and harmless: hands in thick gloves relaxed over the railing, eyes trained on the city below. Keema couldn’t make herself get really scared but anyway took a step away from the edge. Reyes, of course, noticed, face darkening, but didn’t comment on her sudden acrophobia.
“And, most importantly,” he continued. “I have a plan. Or, to be precise, the Plan.”
“What would you do if I say no?” she understood already that he answered direct questions in the same manner.
He shot her another strange, almost disappointed stare and shook his head.
“I’m not going to do anything, Keema,” she couldn’t imagine how eyes of such warm colour could be so cold, “you’re no fool and understand that there’s no reason for you to sell me out. I’ll drag you with me anyway. But if you agree, I guarantee complete secrecy of our agreement. And hope for the same level of secrecy from you.”
Keema made a deep breath and lifted her eyes, looking at pink clouds. It was so much easier to breathe here – the sulphur smell was heavy and drifted closer to ground.
“If you get Kadara – Port is mine,” she said with sudden resolve.
“Deal,” Reyes answered without any pause, but not haphazardly. He just was a really quick thinker, but that was something Keema had learned about him later.
***
She, of course, could’ve sent a message, but after two months and two glasses of wine she really wanted to see him. She had news, after all and didn’t make any promises to Reyes. Yet. She refilled her glass, closed window shields and made herself comfortable in her favourite armchair.
Evfra didn’t pick up her call immediately – it was early morning on Aya, after all, and when he did, all she got was a displeased grunt.
“Could’ve sent the message, what’s the fuss?”
“Missed you terribly,” she smirked. She knew that he would catch her lying, but wouldn’t believe the truth.
“Very funny,” he returned to some document before him. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got a chance to influence the situation on Kadara. I…”
“Keema, remind me, what’s your mission there? Observe and report if I’m not mistaken,” he looked at her and it only made things worse. “So, do as you were ordered – gather information and send it to us. And leave influencing the situation to specialists. Are we clear?”
“Aye, sir,” it was easy to keep her voice steady, but grave coldness, sipping from her heart, was out of her control.
“Anything else?”
“Yes,” she made a sip of wine to chase away the feeling. “I found new contact for us...”
“Good,” Evfra nodded. “Evfra out.”
In the end it was an easy choice – to go with Reyes. All she needed now was not to regret it.