Page 24 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded (Rogue Bonds #2)

Zeke

“N o, you can’t put that tent here,” I said sternly to the Halagal woman. She was carrying a young child on her back, with another one clinging to her skirt. “I told you, it needs to go in line with the others, at the end of the row.”

Though she only came up to my waist, she had a mean glare on her. “Not close enough to the water. We’re staying here,” she said stubbornly, her large nose wobbling as she spoke. Her dark blue skin was blotchy, and I wondered if that meant she was ill. Or maybe she was just exhausted.

“If you set it up here, I’ll just come back and make you move it later,” I warned her. She wasn’t the first person who’d argued with me about where they should be setting up their tents, and a small handful of people had resorted to screaming at me, or throwing objects at my team. To my great admiration, all of the people under my command had maintained a calm and respectful stance, firmly standing their ground, but also making an effort to empathise with the traumatised people around us.

“Sir, another food truck will be arriving at five o’clock,” Private Nichols reported to me. He was an eager kid, energetic, but disciplined at the same time, and I’d been surprised to learn that he’d been assigned to my team on a personal recommendation from Aiden himself. Apparently, Aiden had worked with Nichols before, and had been impressed enough to think he’d be a help to me.

“Thank you,” I said to Nichols, aware that the Halagal woman had immediately resumed her efforts to erect her tent in the wrong spot. “Make sure everyone has registered their names when they come to get their rations. Get Denny to help you. I want everyone checked,” I insisted. As was usual for any group of people, the vast majority of the refugees were willing to cooperate and do as they were told, but there were always a handful who wanted to push the boundaries. Some were refusing to register on the basis of some conspiracy theory about population control or forced medication in the water, and I wanted to make it clear that no one was going to be given food rations without letting us record their presence here – both on this planet and in this camp in particular.

“Yes, sir,” Nichols said, with a nod, then hurried off.

I turned back to the Halagal woman. “Ma’am, there is not enough space for everyone to spread out where they want to. The tents are going in rows.” I pointed to the more-or-less neat row of tents lined up behind me. “We need to be able to move supplies up and down the rows and leave space for emergency vehicles to access anyone who needs help. You cannot put your tent here.”

The woman threw the tent peg in her hand to the ground in a fit of temper. “Stupid humans!” she spat at me. “You know nothing of our troubles! Our homes destroyed! Our people killed! And now it’s too much to ask to just put my tent near the water? You’re a heartless bastard!”

“Ma’am, I’m well aware of how difficult it’s been for you all. But we need to accommodate hundreds of people, and having everyone-”

“You know nothing of what I’ve been through!” the woman screeched at me. And the words pulled me up as I realised they were the exact same thing I’d said to dozens of people in the past year, railing at them for not understanding the level of pain and trauma I’d been through on Ixralia.

But the woman wasn’t finished. “You think you’ve had a hard time because you’ve been shot, or some shit?” she asked, gesturing to my leg. My limp had been fairly obvious today, and I wasn’t surprised that she’d noticed it. “Do you have children? Have you watched your children cry from hunger? Seen them scream in fear as beasts tore people apart? My sister and my husband are both now slaves of the Nwandu! Our city is in rubble. I’ve not just lost my house, but my entire fucking planet! So don’t tell me you know shit about what I’ve been through!”

Like a miracle, Dax appeared by my side. “What do you need, sir?” he asked, planting himself between me and the woman. Sergeant Len was right behind him, having heard the commotion. Len had a no-nonsense attitude that I was rapidly learning to appreciate, and her size meant the Halagals tended to listen to her.

With my head buzzing and my heart pounding in my chest, I managed to keep myself together for the thirty seconds or so needed to get this under control. “I need both of you to move this woman’s tent to the end of the row,” I told them. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you cannot stay here.”

Dax immediately went to work pulling out the few tent pegs she’d already installed, while Len moved to physically restrain the woman as she tried to hit Dax with her backpack. It was almost comical, watching the huge soldier attempting to restrain the tiny woman, while making a concerted effort to not actually hurt her. She, on the other hand, was raging like a cat in a trap, hurling both insults and fists at Sergeant Len.

For my part, I was suddenly desperate for a brief timeout. I retreated to the portable office that had arrived about an hour ago, the building now acting as the official ‘headquarters’ of what we had dubbed the Carring Lake Camp. I let myself inside and closed the door, praying that no more deliveries arrived in the next ten minutes or so.

You know nothing of what I’ve been through.

The words cut deeply. Because, in a weird way, they were true. I didn’t have a husband or wife. I had no idea what it would feel like to watch my own children suffer. I’d experienced intense physical and psychological pain… but I’d got to come home at the end of it, to sleep in a familiar bed, to live on a planet with a peaceful culture and a stable climate and that by and large had adequate supplies of food, clothing and medical care.

I’d talked to soldiers over the past year who had lost a limb, either in active combat, or through a freak accident. You don’t know what it’s like to see your own crew mates get eaten alive , I’d snarled at them. And it was true. They didn’t. You don’t know what it’s like to be stranded on an alien fucking planet with no idea if you’re ever going to get to go home. That was probably also true.

But I didn’t know what it was like to lose my home planet to a species that wanted to enslave everyone. And yet here I was, trying to convince the Halagals that I understood their trauma, if not their individual experiences. The same way that people who had lost an arm or an eye or a partner had tried to convince me that they understood my pain.

Somewhere in the depths of all this, there was going to be the revelation that at various points in the past year, I’d behaved like a complete and utter bastard. And I was sure that at some point in the future, I’d feel all of the appropriate weight of the guilt that should come with that.

But right now, all of my cognitive abilities were being taken up by a sudden fascination at the bizarre and profound relief I was feeling. Relief! Holy fucking shit, other people did understand my pain. Other people had suffered just as deeply; in different ways, and with different consequences, but they had suffered. Which meant…

It meant I wasn’t alone. It meant I didn’t have to be stronger than anyone else, all the time. It meant that if I collapsed in on myself, there were other people with the knowledge and the skills to pick me up again.

I was not alone.

A faint knock at the door tugged at my attention, and I was dimly aware of Dax coming into the office, wariness in his posture. “Sir? May I come in?”

“Yeah,” I managed to say, my voice sounding croaky. “Yeah, come on in. How’s the Halagal woman?” I asked. It was partly concern for someone under my care, and partly an effort to distract Dax from my minor meltdown.

He was not fooled in the slightest. “She’s calmed down, now that we’ve set her tent up for her and got her children something to eat,” he reported. But as he spoke, he stepped closer to me, slowly and gently putting his hands on my shoulders. “How are you ?”

“I…” My throat closed up and I felt tears pricking at my eyes. “It’s a lot, you know?” I said, a vague deflection as I couldn’t quite bring myself to say what I was really thinking. “Seeing other people in pain. And knowing they’ve got very good reasons to be angry. It’s just… It’s a lot.”

Dax slowly stepped closer, letting his arms slide around my shoulders. He tugged my head down to rest on his shoulder, and after only a moment of resistance, I leaned into him, looping my arms around his waist. I took a few deep breaths, feeling the surprising strength of him as he braced himself under my weight. “I’m just feeling so many things at the moment,” I admitted, when I felt a little steadier. “Guilt. And grief. And anger. Anger at the Alliance Parliament, about Ixralia, and at the Nwandu, for all of this shit. And fear. Fucking hell, if things had gone differently here six months ago, we could be in the position the Halagals are in now. And I feel like shit about some of the things I’ve done in the past year. And it’s all just here, now .”

Dax didn’t reply. He rubbed the back of my head and stood with me, until I finally took a deep breath and pulled back. “Is the woman really okay?”

“She was too tired to move all of her things across the park,” Dax explained. “Once she saw we were going to do it for her, she was fine.”

How long had I been hiding in here, staring at the wall, if they’d had time to move all her stuff and set up the tent for her?

“Nichols said the food truck would be here soon, and some of the locals have shown up to donate things. Plates, cups, blankets. One person brought a hydrogen barbeque, so people can cook things.”

“Oh fuck,” I muttered, feeling myself tear up again. People could be so selflessly generous, it was heartbreaking. “All right. Let’s get back out there and start sorting it all out.”

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and by the time the sun was setting, we’d made remarkable progress in getting the camp organised. Everyone had been given at least one meal today, everyone had shelter to sleep in tonight – even if some people were going to be sharing cramped space in the tents on hard ground – and there were now a dozen portable toilets set up at strategic points around the park, so that all the biological waste could be contained and treated appropriately. Tomorrow, we’d have to see about more food supplies, getting one of the local doctors out here, and trying to arrange some showers, but for just half a day’s work, I was pleased with the result.

I made a quick call to Henderson, giving him an update and letting him know that things were under control for now, and that we’d be back in the morning. Then I sent the rest of the team home and Dax and I headed off up the hill, back towards my house.

“I suppose this is not what you expected, when you said you wanted to visit the military base,” Dax said cautiously.

“I’m buzzing,” I told him, not even needing him to finish his concerned query. “It’s been awesome, and terrifying, and one second I think I’m doing a fantastic job, and the next I’m berating myself for being overwhelmed by such a small piece of the puzzle. Because this is small,” I rambled on, as we headed down the slope toward the house. “This camp is dealing with a couple of hundred people. But there are literally millions who are going to be coming out of the Hazharu system. I’m almost thinking that Henderson sent me to deal with this mess just to give me something to do and keep me out of his hair.”

“He wouldn’t have given you a team of four soldiers if he thought this was a waste of time,” Dax immediately contradicted me, and I waved off his concern.

“I know. I’m not seriously thinking that. It’s just one of those things that pops into my head now and then. And I’d like to congratulate myself on the fact that today went pretty well, but at the same time, we haven’t had any protests from local residents yet, and it’s a pretty sure bet that there’s going to be, in the not-too-distant future. There always are, with these sorts of things. There are going to be more shuttles showing up. We could end up with fights between the Halagals over food or space. It’s pretty much guaranteed to get worse, not better, in the short term, at least.”

We’d arrived at my front door, so I unlocked it and let us both inside. As soon as the door was shut, Dax turned to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Sir,” he said, his voice like warm caramel. “You have a capable team helping you with this. You don’t have to do it alone. And yes, there will be problems. But I think you’re the sort of person who likes solving this sort of problem.”

I felt a smile settle on my face, despite the exhausting day. “Yeah,” I agreed, after giving it a moment’s thought. “I guess I am.”

Dax matched my smile. “Then this is the perfect opportunity to see how you feel about going back to the military. All things considered, we’ve had a good day.”