by Jack Archer
“Fuck, Shea,” she muttered, turning her head into the pillow to keep herself from saying anything else stupid. In response, Shea bent down to grab her lips again, kissing her so deeply her breath caught in her chest. Muffled against his mouth, it was hard to get the words out as he pushed into her faster, but Rystar hooked her arms around his neck and raked her nails down his back.
“God you’re beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed all the way down her jaw again, running his hands up her sides and sliding her up the bed until she was almost straight up against the wall behind them. She hooked her legs around his hips again, and he fixed his hands on her waist, pushing her down until his face screwed up and he crashed against her, falling apart as he came within her.
“Could say the same for you,” she said, moving some hair from his face and watching as he caught his breath. She leaned forward and rested her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist to bring him closer.
“I said ‘I think’ earlier,” he said after a while, pulling away from Rystar to study her face.
“Don’t you dare say ‘I know’ now,” Rystar said, holding a finger up at him in warning. “Amazing sex doesn’t equate to love.”
“I know that,” Shea said, his eyes sinking to the floor and his shoulders slumping.
Rystar sighed and cupped his cheek, bringing his eyes back up to hers, and smiled warmly. “I’m not saying your feelings aren’t real, Shea. I feel something for you, too. I’m just not sure what it is yet.”
Shea was quiet for a moment before he let out a breath and jutted his chin out, leaning forward to kiss her. “I can wait.”
She smiled into the kiss and pushed away, carefully sliding off of his lap and heading towards the bathroom to clean up. “I know you just took a shower, but you’re welcome to join me.”
Shea jumped from the bed and hurried after her.
Though she swore she wasn’t in love with Shea and didn’t need him around, she tossed and turned in her bed alone that night. They had kissed each other wildly against her door just before he had left, and now her lips still tasted of him, making it impossible to go to sleep.
When she awoke, Rystar was painfully alone, and she laid there for a few moments wondering why she had sent Shea away. He could have certainly taken care of her condition now. Idly, her thoughts moved to Na’gya, his bright blue eyes and the way he’d smile at her from across the table at dinner, those powerful wings that seemed to wrap around her whenever they stood together.
Her hand moved down to paw at herself through her panties, and she imagined it was Kyran now, with his long fingers and sharp teeth. She sucked in a breath at the thought of them sinking into her skin, which was funny because she had never been a glutton for pain. But Kyran biting at her neck while he fucked her slowly sent shivers through her body.
And then the rest of the crew she hadn’t fully talked to. Enzo and his smoldering amber eyes that occasionally flicked up to her when she thought he was buried in his comms tablet. Lupe’s coy smile as they cooked up Rystar’s favorite meal. Cobalt’s grunts as she passed him in the hallway. Everyone on this ship was a gorgeous bastard, and Rystar had trouble picking one to settle on as she came apart by her own hand.
A knock at the door startled her, and she whipped her hand up from out of the sheets and threw them off, bounding to the bathroom to wash her hands and throw a shirt on.
“Coming!” she called as she hurried to the door and whipped it open to see Kyran leaning on the door frame, his v-neck shirt stupidly low today, tight pants hugging his legs, and Rystar wished she hadn’t just gotten off the way she did. Unfortunately, Kyran noticed her flushed face and chewed a knuckle, looking her up and down.
“I would have helped you with that if you’d have asked, darlin’,” he muttered, making Rystar gulp and push back from the doorframe. She rolled her eyes and moved back into the room to find some pants.
“What do you want, Kyran?” she asked, rummaging around in the closet.
“I could think of several things at the moment,” he responded, leaning around the doorframe to check her out.
Rystar pulled on a pair of jeans and shot him a deadly look before walking back over to him. “Not on the menu.”
“Yet, or ever?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Rystar’s mouth fell open, intent on saying ‘never’ but catching herself as he licked his lips. She really hated him. Or really didn’t.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yet,’” he said with a grin and shoved his hands in the tiny pockets of his jeans before adopting a more serious demeanor. “We’re still stuck in customs. Yarev is home to the Qartzls, and by fuck are their customs hard to get through.”
“Why is that?” Rystar asked, grabbing her jacket and following Kyran as he beckoned her to follow him down the hall.
“The Qartzls are a sea-faring race, very susceptible to poisons and diseases,” Kyran explained as they walked past the other bedrooms and to the elevator that led to the dining hall. “So customs can take several cycles. In the meantime, I thought you could help Lupe work on the Krimson Princess.”
“I’m sorry, the what?” Rystar asked as they entered the elevator, and Kyran hit the button that would take them to the hangar.
“It’s the old Mach II that was handed down to me a long time ago,” Kyran said as the elevator shuddered, and they stopped.
“Oh, from your time on Earth?” Rystar asked pointedly, and Kyran gave her a small smile.
“Actually, from my time in the LaGranges,” he said, and the doors opened to the hangar.
“You’ve been everywhere, haven’t you?” she said, putting a hand over her heart and following Kyran out of the elevator. Her eyes flicked over to her poor Mach III Gloriosum and wondered when she would be able to find a port to fix the thing. Kyran drew her attention to the smaller, much smaller, LASSO on the other side of the hangar.
It was only slightly bigger than a Cessna plane, made of greenish-grey titanium bolts and plates all slapped together hastily, as was the wont in the Second LASSO War, she supposed. The words ‘Krimson Princess’ had been painted on the side of it in bright pink paint, and she smirked at them, running her hands over the small ship’s length. The Mach IV LASSO they currently rode in could probably house 50 of these things.
“What does Krimson Princess mean?” Rystar asked as they stood in front of it.
“Another story for another time,” Kyran said as Lupe moved out from underneath the LASSO and waved at them both. They had their black hair up in a tight bun and pulled a lollipop out of their mouth, wiping their free hand on the leg of their flight suit.
“Looks like a bad pump valve,” they said, nodding at Rystar and folding their arms across their chest.
“Yes, I know exactly what that is,” Kyran said and rolled his eyes, obviously never having touched anything dirtier than himself.
“It makes the thing go up and down in the water,” Lupe explained patiently, sucking on the candy a bit more before pulling it out of their mouth and pointing it at Rystar. “You here to help me out?”
“I’ll help out as much as I can if that’s the thing that’s going to take me to the prison,” she chuckled, shoving her hands in her pockets. She eyed the LASSO and felt an icy stab in her chest. Normally, she trusted her life in these things but an old Leopard from the 60s? Not so much.
“Come on, it’s a relic,” Lupe said through their teeth, spreading their arms out and standing in front of the LASSO. “Look at this thing. Where do you think it’s been, Ky?”
“Couldn’t say,” Kyran replied, scratching the back of his head and placing a hand on his hip. “Didn’t ride much in it.”
“But you knew—” Lupe started.
“So what, you think you can fix it?” Kyran butted in, raising his eyebrows at Lupe, who gave him a quizzical look before turning back to the LASSO and nodding.
“I think I can, with a little help,” they said, winking at Rystar. Not that she was immune to th
is crew’s charms, but she couldn’t stop the flush from creeping up her neck and face as Lupe turned around and waved for Rystar to join them.
“Come on, let’s get you up to date on what this old gal can do.”
Chapter Six
Rystar Umara: DSV Firehawk
The Mach II’s weren’t so very different from the Mach III’s when you went under the hood far enough. They still had all the necessary components to travel on land, through the air and water, and into space, and they all still had funky pump valves that ended up needing replacing after several decades.
“How long do you think it’ll take to get one?” Rystar said, wiping her forehead as she emerged from under the Krimson Princess and helped Lupe up.
“Looks like the closest one for sure is back on Glasport 2,” Lupe said with a grimace, swiping through their comms tablet. “But down on Yarev, there’s a place that might have one. Let’s go check and see if we’re clear with customs yet. I can make us something to eat.”
“That sounds great,” Rystar said with a smile and followed them out of the hangar and into the elevator, pushing a button to send them up to the dining hall. When they arrived, they found Enzo and Cobalt both sitting at the table. Enzo was flipping through his comms tablet while Cobalt turned the pages of a physical book. Rystar didn’t know they still made those.
“Working hard?” Lupe asked as they crossed the room to the kitchen station and began to yank ingredients out of the cabinets.
“Síysï,” Cobalt grumbled.
“What’d he say?” Rystar asked.
Lupe chuckled. “He told me to shut up.”
Not for the first time, Rystar wondered what his story was. He had spoken only a few words to her since she had been on the ship. The book in his hands was stamped with some foreign language she assumed was the one Sustri’s spoke natively and tilted her head as he licked a finger and turned another page.
“Trying to get us through customs a little faster,” Enzo muttered, swiping and typing furiously on his tablet without looking up at them. “What the hell have you two been up to?”
“Fixing the Krimson Princess,” Lupe said with a raised eyebrow, fixing the two Sustri with a knowing glance.
Both Enzo and Cobalt looked up at Lupe, who did nothing but tap their nose and continue cooking.
“What’s that look?” Rystar asked, glancing between them and sitting down at the table. Cobalt huffed and went back to his book, but Enzo turned to face her.
“It’s just an old LASSO that used to belong to a friend of his,” Enzo said with a shrug. “He must be feeling sentimental if he’s bringing that old thing out.”
Rystar cocked an eyebrow. “Sentimental?”
“Yeah, he hasn’t torn the sheet off that thing in 50 years,” Enzo said, going back to his typing.
Rystar furrowed her brow and hummed, looking over at Lupe, who was in the middle of cooking something that looked like pasta, but Rystar wasn’t going to assume it was anything like pasta. Not after the last time.
She stood up and headed over to the kitchen corner, where she sat on a stool and leaned on the counter, watching Lupe work and pursing her lips for a moment. “So what’s your story? Have you always been a pilot?”
Lupe flicked their gold eyes up at her and smiled, clearly happy to have someone to talk to while they worked for once. “Always wanted to be one since I was little.”
“Kyran told me he’s 740. What’s ‘little’ to you?” Rystar chuckled.
“Considering I just turned 482 last month, I’d say since I was about 60 or so,” Lupe replied, digging around under the cabinets for some Charlom to pour for them.
“It blows my mind how long you guys live,” Rystar said with a shake of her head.
“Well, we don’t have much to show for it,” Lupe said with a shrug and pushed a glass towards her. Rystar nodded her head in thanks and took a sip, pulling a face at its potency.
“What do you mean?” Rystar asked, sucking her teeth.
“Lots of infighting,” Enzo mumbled from the table. Both Lupe and Rystar looked at him, and he eventually turned around, setting down his tablet and pushing out from his chair to approach them.
“The same Sustri have been in power for over 500 years and refuse to change anything,” he explained, gesturing for a glass of Charlom from Lupe. “Our people have supposedly been around for millennia, but we haven’t taken over the galaxy and we only have a couple of shitty spaceships to show for it.”
“What do you mean?” Rystar asked, taking another sip.
“Look at it this way,” Lupe cut in, pouring some kind of sauce into the pan, “when you have the same people in power for so long, not a whole lot gets done. They’ve been more focused on what happens on the homeworld than branching out and expanding our horizons.”
“All of our science and technology is focused on protecting our planet from the Horoths and Terrans,” Enzo continued, taking a sip from his glass. “Before that, it was the Atrex.”
“The Atrex?” Rystar furrowed her brow. She had run into the Atrex only a few times, the large, furry tanks that shot at anything that moved. Luckily for the humans, the Atrex territory was so far away from them, they didn’t need to deal with them much. “Were you all fighting with them?”
“Long time,” Cobalt spoke up from his seat, not putting his book down, but his eyes looked haunted all the same.
Enzo frowned and Lupe continued cooking a little more soberly. When Enzo spoke again, his voice was a little softer. “The last war we had was about two hundred years ago. Before that, it lasted about as long.”
“Two hundred years of fighting?” Rystar asked.
“And the Atrex are a little better at fighting than we are,” Lupe said with raised eyebrows. “They kept us locked to one planet. It’s only been the last hundred years or so that we’ve branched out and been able to colonize other planets. Mostly the TRAPPIST systems, but we’re getting there.”
“These guys boring you to tears, darlin’?”
Rystar looked up from her drink to see Kyran standing next to the table, leaning on it with one hand. He flicked his head at Lupe. “Where’s my drink?”
“Last time I checked, you had two hands and feet to carry you over here and get your own,” Lupe said with a wicked grin, sparing a moment to glance up at Kyran.
“Captain doesn’t get any respect around here, you see that, Umara?” Kyran huffed and crossed the room, bumping Lupe with his hip to grab a bottle of dark red liquid.
“Looks tasty,” Rystar said, raising an eyebrow at the bottle.
“I’m afraid you might hate it,” Kyran chuckled, pouring himself a glass and putting the bottle away. “Sir opíhyi. Blood wine. Some stereotypes are true.”
“What stereotypes?” Rystar said with a roll of her eyes. “I thought you said you weren’t vampires?”
“We’re not,” Lupe interjected and began to spoon the food they made into separate bowls for them and Rystar. “But I’m pretty sure Kyran is the reason the myth exists on Earth.”
“Is that so?” Rystar raised both eyebrows at Kyran and took her bowl of food, nodding her thanks to Lupe as she began to eat. Something tugged at her heart, knowing he was more human than she would ever be, but she didn’t know why it bothered her so much.
“I don’t think so,” Kyran said, shaking his head and holding out his arms at Lupe. “Where’s my bowl?”
“Either make it yourself or wait until I’m done eating,” they chuckled, leaning back against the counter and beginning to dig into their food.
“No meals, no drinks, what’s the point of being captain of anything?” Kyran huffed and took a long, dramatic swig from his glass.
“You still get to call the shots,” Enzo pointed out, swaying a little from his drink.
“I thought we were over that,” Kyran said, narrowing his eyes.
“We are, we are,” Enzo said, waving his hand at Kyran. “Just poking at you.”
Kyran grimaced. �
�Well, quit poking. I already feel bad enough.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Enzo began, but Kyran blew a raspberry, and Enzo rolled his eyes.
Kyran’s demeanor suddenly shifted, and he turned to Rystar, whose mouth was currently full of noodles. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “We need to talk, Umara.”
“‘Bout what?” she said, muffled through her food.
“Customs is about to let us through. Do we have everything we need to get down to the prison?”
“Not exactly,” Lupe interjected, and Kyran ripped his eyes away from Rystar to look at them. “The pump valve is on the fritz, and the closest one is on Glasport 2.”
A collective groan sounded from around the room.
“Unless,” Lupe went on, pointing their utensil at Kyran, “unless there’s one down on Diondya Beach.”
Enzo raised an eyebrow at Kyran, whose smile grew larger and larger by the second.
“What’s Diondya Beach?” Rystar asked, setting down her bowl of food to take a drink.
“Only the loveliest, most romantic place in the Sustri systems,” Kyran explained, tilting his head back to regard Rystar. A blush crept up her cheeks, and she shook it away, focusing more on the food in front of her.
“It’s also one of the largest trading hubs in the Falsthwan and Dornonth systems,” Lupe pointed out, “so there’s bound to be some kind of pump valve that can fit that old Leopard.”
Kyran furrowed his brows and frowned into his drink. “Don’t talk about my Princess that way.”
“Rïnrih,” Lupe said, rolling his eyes, “I know how sensitive you are about her.”
“Let’s just get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll head out first thing tomorrow,” Kyran said, draining the last of his drink and setting it on the counter. He pointed at it and looked to Lupe. “You got that for me? Since I’m going to bed starving, and all.”