by Ava York
“Take a seat,” I said, trying to shove my own idiotic grin back in a box.
She pulled out a chair at the long table and shook her head. “I think I might need a booster seat.”
“We’ll figure something else out later,” I said, making a mental note to add it to Kyre’s growing list.
While the table was a little high for her, it was workable for a meal or two.
Dish set in front of her, she took a tentative sip of the broth, and her eyes widened.
“This is fantastic,” she moaned.
Suddenly I was very glad I was sitting.
That sound, the look of pleasure on her face, went straight to my cock.
“I’m glad you like it.” I cleared my throat. “Revellion soup is one of my favorites.”
The tip of her tongue flicked out across her lush lips to catch a stray noodle, and I bit back a groan of my own.
“I can see why,” she said, and got down to the serious business of food.
Thankfully, there wasn’t much conversation during the rest of the meal.
As we finished, I collected our bowls and put them into the disposal side of the recycler.
“Everything here will get broken back down, sorted into its type of component stock, and reused.”
“That’s amazing!” She bounced a little on her toes when she was excited. It was adorable.
“I can’t wait to see the rest of the ship.” Her face fell. “But you’ve probably got duties and things. Being captain probably keeps you pretty busy.”
Lila stood up straighter, her chin out just a touch. “That’s fine, I can explore the ship, see what there is that I can maybe help with, and I promise not to touch any giant red buttons.”
“That’s probably always good advice,” I answered, a little confused. There was definitely some reading material on Earth cultures I needed to catch up on.
But right now, there was something more important to do.
“You know what?” I grinned, feeling a sense of expansiveness in my chest that I hadn’t had in a long time.
Maybe not ever.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve done a top to bottom inspection of the Calliope. Let’s go see what we can find.”
I’d have to reshuffle an entire morning’s worth of work to make up for the delay, but Lila’s smile made it all worthwhile.
And then, far too quickly, it was time for bed.
Giving her a room of her own would have been my first choice, not just for her sake, but for mine.
But we hadn’t had enough time to reconfigure the cabins so that she had her own space. She was right. Kyre’s priorities had been making sure the ship was spaceworthy.
Separate quarters had been further down the list.
And honestly, over the course of the day, I’d realized I liked being with her.
When we stood together in the dim light of my cabin, it wasn’t just her who felt uncomfortable.
The early days as a foot soldier usually meant being crammed in with a couple of hundred recruits, and getting your own cabin was a prize you looked forward to if you climbed the ranks.
I smiled to myself just a little, thinking of how hard I’d worked to get my own quarters, only finding that I had to share it anyway.
Lila tossed her hair and eyed me with a bit of defiance.
“Only one bed?” she asked, a hint of challenge in her even tone.
“You take it. I’ll sleep on the floor.” Surprise flashed across her features, barely there. I grabbed a few blankets and started setting myself up.
Throughout my military career, I’d slept in all kinds of strange places, and the floor would be pretty comfortable compared to some of them.
I tried not to pay attention to her as she got comfortable and slipped under the covers. Whatever my personal feelings about being tied down, she was very beautiful.
It was hard not to look at her.
The small lamp shed a warm glow that set off the red in her hair and added a deep, dark, inquisitive sheen to her eyes.
She wore her beauty without any vanity, and it made her even more attractive. She moved with simple grace and her body language spoke of years of discipline.
I supposed that living with animals most of her life, she had learned a quiet manner that put the beasts at ease. I smiled to myself a little as I thought that she soothed me with the same actions.
Perhaps in many ways, I was a reactive beast, too.
I spread out my blankets and pillows more comfortably, lying down flat on my back to stare at the dark ceiling.
I heard Lila moving around, the mattress making soft, whispering noises. I could imagine her shapely legs moving between the sheets and I felt a stirring inside that had little to do with my heart and a lot to do with my body.
The urges were easy enough to suppress, but they didn’t go away.
For someone of such strong discipline, that was like a personal failure. I commanded my body over and over again to calm down, but it did no good.
A spark of curiosity and passion was awake in me and nothing could make it sleep.
I closed my eyes, trying to relax. I heard Lila rolling over and looked up, seeing her lean over the bed to watch me.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
She shifted around under the sheets again, curling on her side.
“I miss my family. The quiet dawn when the animals would start to call for their feed. The middle of the day when we would all take a rest. The busy afternoon, putting the animals to stable before we all went to dinner.”
“It sounds nice.” Even though I could see the imagery evoked by her words, I had no empathy. I had never observed or been part of such simple routines.
She sighed deeply. “I wonder how it’s all going.”
“Were you integral to the running of the farm?”
She laughed softly. “No, not really.”
“Then why worry? Surely they can carry on without you. Your sisters will help, right?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Sure.”
She shifted around some more, clearly having trouble getting comfortable.
“Rekker?”
“Yeah?” I propped my head up on my hands, thinking it was probably best not to try and relax until she settled down.
“Can you tell me about your tattoos?”
Absentmindedly, I smoothed a hand over my chest and upper arm, the swirling marks slightly different from the rest of my skin.
I covered the tattoo on my left shoulder, rubbing at it with my right hand. It had felt strange when it started to glow, like it was tugging at my insides somehow.
“Some of them flash red when I’m angry. There is only one that glows white.” I took in a huge sigh before going on.
There was just no easy way to say this.
“It only starts to shine when I’m in the presence of my mate.”
I heard her breathing speed up just a little. She stayed curled up at the edge of the bed. I could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind.
“The computer assigned us as mates. Isn’t that kind of weird? Does the computer know what your tattoo will do?”
I grinned in the dark, happy that she couldn’t see my expression.
I wasn’t keen to go into depth on the topic, but it seemed like she really wanted to know.
“The computer calculates likely matches based on genetics. It researches a possibility for healthy offspring and compatibility to some extent. The computer can predict if we will have strong children, if . . . . ” I didn’t want to say the words, suddenly the abstract risk had become all too real. “If you survive childbirth.”
“But the tattoo?”
I found it hard to speak the next words. I knew what it meant, it was just hard to accept. I had no idea if she would find this good news or not.
“My tattoo glows when I meet my soulmate. It’s something more of the spirit than in the genes. My mark shines white when I’m in the presence of someone
who will fulfill me, body as well as soul.”
When the silence in the room deepened, I sat up a little. I couldn’t see her eyes, I didn’t know if she was looking at me or not.
“The computer does its job well.” I decide to go on, hoping to cover any emotional reaction of hers with more information. “There is a high incidence of genetic matches calculated by the computer ending up to be true mates, as well.”
She still didn’t move. I started to feel worried she was offended.
I could relate. It’s not nice to find out your own body was working against you. How to escape the inevitable jaws of fate?
Not a pretty thought.
“How accurate is that tattoo thing?”
“It has never been wrong, not once in our entire history. It only glows for a perfect match.”
I tried not to lace my words with too much authority. The silence stretched out into the room as I realized she was too deep in thought to answer.
I felt slightly helpless, wishing that I was eloquent enough to explain further, hedge my words with reassurances. I couldn’t think of anything else to say and kept watching her in the dark, waiting for her to deliver a verdict.
Instead, she rolled over and wrapped the blankets around herself. I laid back down on the floor, trying not to sigh too hard. I’d told the truth, but I wasn’t sure if I would get punished for it or rewarded.
The last thing I wanted to do was upset her. She might be frightened by this knowledge, or even disgusted. Just because my body chose her didn’t mean she had to choose me back.
I shifted in my blankets, wondering if I could convince her of the power of the bond.
That it was more than a bunch of numbers calculated and spat out by the computer.
It was a mystical connection set into my body the same way planets are set into a path around a star. It was a universal conspiracy designed to bring us together.
I didn’t know if humans had the capacity to understand something like that.
The silence that stretched on in the cabin and her complete lack of reaction seemed to only enforce that fact.
Fated mates we might be, but if she didn’t choose me, all the signals in the universe wouldn’t be enough.
We would lose each other.
Forever.
Lila
It’d been two days.
Two days of getting used to living on board a spaceship instead of underneath a blue sky. Two days of learning all about Rekker and his crew, all the odd little details, from Javik’s persnickety mannerisms and complete focus on his scientific studies, to Cedroc’s dry sense of humor.
That behind Derrix’s overgrown frat boy façade, he was actually a decent guy.
Kyre remained a mystery, since he’d been so busy with the last of the repairs on the ship.
I’d taken to haunting the med bay and the bridge. The med bay because surely they’d be able to use some of my training there.
The bridge, well, that’s where I could find Rekker most often.
And something in me just liked being near him.
“Still nothing new about the mission, Captain?” Cedroc called out from the helm. “I’ve got a name of the world, not much else.”
“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked.
“Gravum IV.”
Yeah, that meant nothing to me.
Cedroc smiled and threw some maps up on one of the side monitors.
“See, here,” Rekker said. “We’re heading into the far end of the Martollian Sector.” He guided my hand over the screen, tracing a path with our joined fingers. “First step is setting a course for the Yulic Quadrant and then we’ll curve around to avoid a Suhlik supply base that’s rumored to be in the area.”
Javik sat at his station, flipping through a series of datapads faster than I could possibly imagine he could comprehend the information.
But obviously he could.
“There is a disturbing lack of detail about this system. It seems unreasonable that High Command would send us with so little preparation.” Javik grumbled.
Rekker met my amused glance and rolled his eyes slightly in Javik’s direction.
“Or, they might assume that we’ll be able to handle whatever gets thrown at us,” Rekker answered.
“Of course we will,” Javik snapped. “It would simply be more efficient to have the information in advance.”
“So,” I jumped in, hoping to unruffle the science officer. “What’s in the files? What do you actually know about our destination? Is it pretty?”
Javik tilted his head, as if trying to comprehend my question. “It’s a mid-size planet situated within a satisfactory distance from an early-life-cycle star. The gravity ratios are comparable to your world and the atmosphere is breathable.” He nodded, as if pleased with something. “It is relatively temperate. I do not believe you will experience any discomfort.”
I blinked rapidly.
“Thank you? Are there other people that live there?”
“I have no information about that.”
Well, at least I knew a little bit more now than I did before.
And apparently I wouldn’t be uncomfortable. That counted for something, surely.
“Captain,” Cedroc called out. “We’re heading into an asteroid belt. You probably want to sit down, just in case.”
I looked around quickly. Where was I supposed to sit?
“Just this once,” Rekker smiled, and patted his command chair.
“Do I get to make all the decisions now?” I teased as I wiggled into it.
It wasn’t comfortable in the slightest.
“Sure,” he laughed, “just make sure all your orders keep us on track for the mission. Manage that, and High Command doesn’t throw us into the brig.”
“That seems like it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Captain, brace for impact!” Cedroc’s shout rang through the bridge and I clung to the arm of the chair.
“Bank to starboard, now!” Rekker commanded, eyes fixed on the forward screens.
Following his gaze, I caught a patch of darkness, a blackness in the void, where I should have only seen more asteroids.
And from the center of the shadow, a growing circle of red appeared.
Nimbly, the Calliope rocked hard to the side in response to Cedroc’s maneuvers.
“Keep dodging, Cedroc,” Rekker commanded as he slapped a comms button on the arm of his command console.
“Derrix, a Suhlik ship just decloaked. Take them down.”
What?
“What’s going on, Rekker?” I whispered.
His jaw was tight.
“It’s a Suhlik warship. It was cloaked, waiting for us.” His fist clenched. “They must have caught one of our transmissions.”
“Warship?” My voice caught in my throat and came out as barely above a whisper.
I’d just started to settle in. I could have convinced myself this was a fun adventure, just like Nora always wanted.
Off to see new planets, unexplored worlds.
But something about the word ‘warship’ brought it all home.
The Suhlik and the Mahdfel were at war, had been for generations, would be for my entire life.
I froze.
“Lila.” Rekker placed his hand on my shoulder. “Get to the med bay, it’s the centermost point of the ship. If we have to go to lockdown, it’ll be the safest spot.”
Safest spot.
That sounded good.
“Now!” he ordered.
And still I couldn’t move, my mind stuttering.
The ship snapped to the side.
“Captain, we’ve taken a hit!”
The words were important, but I could barely hear them.
“Not too bad, I’m on it,” Kyre’s voice rang out through the comms.
Before I could register anything further, Rekker swung around, cradling me in his arms.
I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.
�
�I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder, and dashed down the corridor.
“I can take myself there,” I insisted as my brain emerged from its panicked fog. “I’m sorry, you need to get back to the bridge.”
“I need to make sure you’re safe,” he growled. “My crew is the best. They’ll manage without me.”
As he dashed towards the med bay, another sudden jerk sent us bumping against the wall.
“What was that?” I whimpered, too afraid to be embarrassed.
“Another hit.” His voice was grim.
“How bad is it, really, Rekker?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head, eyes focused ahead. “But we’ve still got power, so we’re good.”
He glanced down as his face hardened. “Trust me. Trust my crew. They aren’t going to let anything happen to you.”
By the time we got to the med bay, my breathing was short and heavy, but my hands were steady enough to pour a small cup of water.
The lights flickered, and I flinched.
“Listen,” Rekker said, “I’ve got to get back to the bridge now. Just stay here until I come back for you.”
I nodded, my chest tight with tension.
I didn’t want him to go. I wanted to stay safe, curled up in his arms.
But it was true, he had his duties, and I had mine.
“It looked like Javik was busy out there,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even.
“His skills with the gravitational anomaly detector help us predict where a cloaked vessel is. With luck, and his talent,” Rekker admitted, “we can catch them while their shields are still partially down as they’re preparing to fire.”
“Right, then. Since he’s not able to be here, I should make sure med bay is ready, in case we have casualties.”
Rekker looked at me strangely.
“Go on,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as panicked as I felt. “You have work to do. I’m sure it will be fine.”
He crushed me to his chest and for a moment all I could do was feel the bond between us, the silver strands that seemed to flare with the brightness of his mating tattoo.
Then without another word, he was gone.
And I turned to see how I could prepare the med bay for patients, and prayed that we wouldn’t need it.