by Kyle, Celia
“No. I should apologize to you, Varia. That was—what I said was unnecessary. You’re just trying to look after your people. You’ve suffered a grave violation and it’s not fair of me to expect you to not be angry. You have every right to be upset,” I tell her.
I can tell my words have shocked her. She stares up at me, those gorgeous, molten eyes wide, mouth ajar. The urge to kiss her and confirm the mating bond is fierce, but I keep hold of myself.
Silence settles between us once more, but this time it’s more comfortable. All I can hear is her breath, passing calmly in and out of her lungs, as if the softness in my tone was exactly what she needed to hear.
“May I ask a favor of you? Just one,” she asks, finally finding her voice.
“Of course,” I answer.
“I’d be grateful if you’d appoint some of your crew to assist me and my team with clearing the hold and improving our living quarters. They know this ship better than we do and I don’t want to create more of a hassle for any of you,” she says.
“I’ll do that. I’ll send some of my men to aid you tomorrow,” I agree.
“Thank you.”
Before I can say another word, she turns on her heel and takes off in the direction of her sleeping quarters, leaving me dumbfounded and alone with my thoughts. I watch her go, my eyes following her retreating form until it disappears completely from view.
How I wish this entire situation was different. If we’d met under any other circumstances, I could work on developing a traditional mating relationship with her. I could take my time and woo her and make her fall for me. I’d reveal the mating bond and she’d be happy for it. There’d be nothing standing in the way of us being together, not like there is now.
Everything is so tense between us. We’re nearly always at each other’s throats, always battling one another for command with neither willing to concede. The constant power struggle is debilitating, like it’s ruining us before there is an “us.” I hate how we can’t just talk to one another without dissolving into an argument. I’d kill to be able to have a normal conversation with her about anything other than this crazy situation we’ve found ourselves in.
But what’s the point? She’s made it abundantly clear that this arrangement is temporary; she doesn’t want to stay here and plans to jump ship as soon as she’s able. I don’t know her very well, but I know nothing in the galaxy can convince her to do something she doesn’t want. Mate or not, if she doesn’t want to stay, there’s no point in wasting my breath trying to convince her.
Once she’s gone, I waste no time returning to the bridge. Swipt and Montier know better than to question me. In silence, we continue our journey through the stars.
Chapter Fifteen
Varia
I’ve given up on seeing certain things during my lifetime. Peace between the Trident Alliance and the Ataxian Coalition. No radiation fusion reactors. Cute clothes with pockets.
I’d given up on any sort of true civility out of Solair, as well. But then he surprised me, apologizing for his rudeness and abrasive nature. Of course, he’s feeling a bit resentful about the massive disruption to his normal routine. I get that. But it’s not like any of us from the Frontier chose to be dropped on his doorstep.
Not only that, but once Solair figured out what was occurring on the Frontier, he could have turned his ship around and flown away into the event horizon. But he chose not to. He took responsibility, which was the moral thing to do, and now he’s just going to have to learn to deal with the consequences.
As I sit on my bunk and stare at the concave burnished walls, I consider our most recent interaction to have gone well, all things considered. But he had been angry at first. Very, very angry.
I confess to feeling a stab of guilt when he pointed out we’re keeping the Ancestral Queen from making her appointed rounds. He has deliveries to make, and I know enough about how privateer ships operate to know that if he doesn’t deliver, he doesn’t get paid. That trickles down to his men as well, which causes all of the problems someone might expect.
He is justified in feeling resentment and frustration, but not in how he expressed it. There was a moment there when his eyes were full of fury, his lips peeled back in a snarl, that I thought Solair would lock me up in his brig—if he even has one—and throw away the key.
But then his gaze softened and he’d apologized, which I feel in my heart was genuine.
And to be honest… I’m not the easiest person to deal with. I don’t handle frustrations in stride like Marion, I’m not brilliant like Thrase, and not everyone likes me like Lamira. Due to my admittedly hardscrabble upbringing, I don’t deal with change or frustration very well. I tend to be rude, blunt, and focused on fixing whatever problem I perceive, anyone else’s feelings be damned.
But doesn’t that put me just as much in the wrong as the Kilgari captain?
I’m still mulling over this latest dilemma when the door slides open and Lamira enters our room. “Hey, there. Why the long face?”
“The Kilgari captain and I had a bit of a fight.”
Her reaction is less than impressive. “Again? That’s hardly news. The whole ship is talking about all the heat between the two of you.”
“Heat?” My cheeks flush, and in spite of myself an image of a naked, two-membered Solair pops into my head. “What in the world are you talking about? Who’s saying that? I’m not into alien guys, not at all.”
“What am I talking about? What are you talking about?” Lamira laughs hard at my expense. “I meant ‘heat’ as in you guys don’t seem to get along. You’re the one who’s reading something else into it.”
Way to put your foot in your mouth, Varia. Good thing Lamira is hardly a gossip and won’t talk about my slip.
“Whatever…” I grumble. “Are you hungry? I’m starved, and I can’t help but notice my cookie stash is missing…”
A sheepish smile stretches across her face, and she holds her hands out. “In my defense, they’re really good cookies.”
“Were really good cookies. Let’s go see if that Jax fellow has any more, or perhaps something just as good.”
Lamira links her arm with mine and grins. “Or even better.”
There’s that irrepressible optimism again. While it helped me get through the dark days of surviving in the hold, it also reminds me of just how undeserving Lamira is of this whole situation. Given her lily-white reputation and lack of lawlessness, it seems to me like the only reason she would have been arrested is if someone in the IHC made the connection between my black-market activities and our friendship. That means that it’s all my fault that she’s stuck out here in Kilgari space on an alien vessel facing an uncertain future.
I still haven’t finished mulling this over when we arrive at the mess hall. Even before we enter the wide portal, the delectable aroma of baked goods reaches us. Lamira and I exchange excited glances.
“Is it me, or does that smell like…” Lamira begins.
And I finish for her. “Chicken pot pie? Hell yes.”
Indeed, when I scan the room, I see many of my women enjoying round dishes of what closely resembles the Terran dish. The meat is dark, so I don’t think it’s chicken, but my belly is so empty I don’t much care.
We rush to the counter as Jax hands out a serving to one of his crewmen. His face stretches in a warm smile as he sees us. I’m glad he’s one of the nice chefs instead of one of the high-strung ones who screams at people.
“Welcome back to my humble establishment, Varia.” He hands us each a dish with a steaming pie, and my mouth positively waters. “In honor of our human guests, I’ve made a variation on your classic cuisine, chicken pot pie a la Jax.”
“Wow. So, you had chicken to put in these?” Lamira’s eyes light up as she takes her pie from Jax’s golden-skinned hand.
The head cook looks quite uncomfortable, the gold hue of his cheeks deepening, and he can’t meet her gaze when he replies. “Ah…think smaller and more legs.”
Lami
ra’s mouth drops open, and I quickly drag her away before she can insult the chef. “C’mon, Lamira, I’m sure it tastes fine. Everyone else seems to be enjoying it.”
It’s true. I don’t see one unhappy person in the mess hall—human or Kilgari. The other day when I was here the two groups seemed to keep to themselves. Now, however, nearly every table holds a mix of Kilgari men and human women.
Lamira and I sit at a small table near the corner with only two seats. After some encouragement from me, she finally stabs her fork into the steaming pie and takes a fully laden bite.
Her eyes widen as she chews, and she can’t drive the fork back into her mouth fast enough after she swallows.
“I guess it suits your palate after all?”
She shakes her head. “It’s terrible. In fact, it’s so bad I can’t bear to watch you suffer, so I’ll eat your portion and take one for the team.”
I brandish my fork and glower menacingly. “You already ate my cookies. Keep your damn hands off my pie or else.”
We enjoy a good laugh and for a moment it’s like old times, just me and Lamira hanging out and shooting the breeze like we used to do during our time locked in the Frontier’s hold, when we had literally nothing to do but sit and be held prisoner. The problems sort of fade into the background, but being the person I am I can’t keep them off my mind forever.
I wipe my mouth and push in my chair, turning to head for the incinerator. “Duty calls, Lamira.”
“Can’t you stop working for ten minutes?”
“We’ve been sitting here for over an hour and there’s just too much to be done. Solair was… kind enough to give us a space for exercise, but it needs to be cleared and cleaned and it’s too much for one person. Then there’s the bedding and other supplies from the Frontier to distribute, and…”
“Okay, I get the point.” She sighs. “Work crews?”
“Work crews. Help me organize?”
Lamira nods, and we set about disturbing the other diners one by one. For the most part, everyone is not only willing to help, but eager. I think they all like having something to do.
We’ve got several teams set up between Lamira and me, some to clear the cargo hold and some to assist with fixing up the quarters, when Solair strides into the mess hall.
His gaze meets mine for a moment and then he clears his throat. “Ahem. Forgive me for not getting to this sooner, Varia, but I couldn’t help overhearing what you have planned. It seems to me like the work would go much faster indeed if you had some more assistance like we discussed.”
“That’s certainly true, but I didn’t want to keep pushing after yesterday, so we’ve got it covered.”
A thin smile crosses his golden-skinned face. It’s a bit cool between us still, but it seems like he wants to get along as much as I do. “Of course, you do. You are responsible and a most capable commander. But please allow me to assign some of my crew to assist you as we had initially agreed, if for no other reason than it will make me feel better about keeping my word.”
“I—certainly.”
Solair quickly organizes his people, asking for volunteers to join the work crews. There are no shortage of them to be had, and I’m a bit taken aback at how well the two sapient races on the Queen get along.
I watch the handsome captain as he moves about the room, speaking to nearly every crewman in turn. I really want to talk to him again, calmly, in private to completely clear the air between us.
But because of my background, I tend to lash out when I feel like I’m backed into a corner. All I want is for Lamira and the other women to be safe, but I don’t know how to make that happen.
Chapter Sixteen
Solair
“Do you have a moment?”
It’s the sixth time I’ve been asked today if I have a moment by a member of my crew, but of course as the commander of this vessel I can’t say no. I don’t even have to ask why he might possibly need a moment from me because every single conversation that has started with those five words has ended up being about the same thing.
“Of course, Vox—what can I assist you with?” I lead the other male over to my station on the bridge.
“Well… it’s the women, Captain—” he starts.
“Of course it is. It’s always the women these days,” I mutter, wiping a hand over the creases in my brow. I’ll look like my grandfather in another year’s time if this keeps up. I need to find a planet or space station where I can drop them off that will allow them to find passage back to wherever they need or want to go. It can’t be just any backwater planet. I don’t want to strand them in the frontiers of space. It’s not a nice galaxy and I don’t want to cause them additional misery.
But I can’t keep going on like this.
So far today, I’ve been told that the women are lamenting the fact that there isn’t enough laundry facilities and they’re running out of clean clothes. That they’re concerned with sharing rooms with more than one other person. That they’re not happy about the lack of produce in the mess. That the ship isn’t warm enough for some and it’s too warm for others. And, that there’s no water for showers.
“I’m sorry if you’ve heard this before—and I’m not complaining because I do understand that these women desperately require our assistance—but do they have to be so difficult? Is there a better way for us to work together? We do have a common goal, after all,” Vox says.
“Do you have a specific issue that’s plaguing you, Vox, or just a general sense of annoyance with our new shipmates?”
“Oh, I’m not annoyed with the. Please don’t think that. I just feel like we’re not all on the same page and everything we try to do to help them just irritates them. They’re just being impossible, and they seem to resent the extra work of integrating into our crew,” Vox shares.
That won’t do at all. Although my crew outnumbers the females on board, it doesn’t mean they’re sitting around idly. Every male on this ship has duties and I’ve been nothing but accommodating in rerouting their tasks so they can each take turns assisting Varia and her girls. Hearing that they don’t seem to be acting particularly grateful boils my blood, but I keep my emotions in check—again.
After all, it’s not the first time I’ve heard this story today.
“Have you tried talking to any of the women? Maybe if you asked them exactly what’s bothering them you might be able to rectify the issues yourselves? Make no mistake. I know I’m the captain of this ship and it’s my duty to keep the peace, but I do have other pressing things to deal with.”
Vox looks immediately rebuked, but shakes his head. “We just don’t know how. We honestly think we’re doing what they ask us, but every time something seems to backfire and we end up on the receiving end of a very angry female—although their tactics are more passive than aggressive in nature.”
At this, I can’t help but think of Varia. I’d much prefer a bit of passivity over her aggression any day.
“Can you provide me with some examples? It would make my job much easier if I had something to present to their leader. Maybe together she and I can come up with a plan to fix them.” I’m not at all looking forward to another conversation with said leader.
“Well, just this morning one of the women asked if I could assist her in bringing some items from the cargo hold to her new quarters. I was on my way to the mess, but, not wanting to seem unhelpful, I agreed. I accompanied her to the hold and brought everything she asked me to over to her bunk. I left it on the floor for her to sort, but she quickly grew annoyed at me even though I’d just hauled three boxes that I’m sure weighed more than me across three decks to her new accommodations. Completely baffled, I returned to the mess only to discover I’d completely missed breakfast. Turns out, she was pissed because I’d just ‘dumped everything on the floor’ and hadn’t asked if she wanted help putting it away, but she didn’t mention that at the time,” Vox explains. I can’t help but roll my eyes, an action he immediately latches onto. “I don’
t understand why she didn’t ask for more help. Or, barring that, tell me immediately that she was frustrated with me. Do they know Kilgari can’t read minds? I mean, has anyone told them that?”
At this I burst out laughing, despite how unbefitting it is of my role. “We’ve got a lot to learn about these human women, Vox. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long, hard road.”
“I assure you that we’ll all continue to rise to the occasion, but it’d be nice if they’d just act a little more grateful. I know they’ve been through a lot, but—all due respect intended, of course—we didn’t put them in this situation. A little appreciation of our efforts would be nice,” Vox grumbles.
“I agree,” I tell him. “Is there anything further you wish to share?”
He shakes his head and turns to leave the bridge, but I stop him.
“Can you do me a favor?” I call out to him once more.
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
“Can you tell the crew that I’ve received enough complaints for one day and that I’ll be speaking to Miss Dawn as soon as the opportunity presents itself? I understand your frustrations, but I can’t keep being interrupted like this.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure they know you’re looking out for us,” he says. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
I throw myself back into my chair once Vox has exited the bridge. A low pounding is starting at the base of my skull and spreading down to my back through the tension in my shoulders. It’s been less than three days since these women have taken over my ship and already I feel like if I never see another female again, it’ll be too soon.
“They’re really keeping the males on their toes, huh?” Grantian speaks from his seat beside me.
He’s a lucky bastard, having been kept mostly out of the conflicts with the women due to his status as first mate. When I’ve been dealing with creating extra space or fielding complaints he’s been hidden away up here, overseeing command in my absence.