His father sighed. “Review the restricted files you’ve been sent and then confirm your agreement. Teams are being assembled, but obviously you’ll be slated with Ferrier.” Damien opened his mouth, and his father waved him off, interrupting before he began. “I know what you’re going to ask. Between all the missives and communiqués this past flare, I think everyone is aware of your championing Brixton and Kol’s request. If you just read the files, you’d know that they have been assigned to Kurabyss as well.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
His father shook his head. “I had nothing do with the decision. The appeal was made directly to the GCC and approved. I have my doubts about Kol’s lack of training and noted it in my report.”
Damien was grinning. “I’m sure Brixton and Hayden will rectify that immediately.”
“Undoubtedly.”
They both stood. They were nearly the same height now, and Damien felt like the last bond of childhood was falling away. His father looked aggravated, but Damien knew that he was just hiding his unease and that he was genuinely proud. It had just been the two of them for as long as Damien could remember. Since the Doryl Incident that claimed his mother’s life while she was investigating new flora on Rhiz. Over the cycles, he had worked hard to earn a place in his father’s regard, and now, he was beginning to realize that he’d always had it.
While Damien had only a few vague recollections of silvery strands wrapped around his fingers and laughter, he’d watched the vidlogs compulsively growing up. His mother might be a stranger, but Damien knew every laugh he ever heard from his father was because of her. That she’d loved them both. And he knew that his father still loved her, and as the last piece of her—him, too.
“I trust him, Damien, and I know you. Do what you must and come home.”
Damien pocketed the memchip from his accommodation’s computer. He was putting the last few things in his trunk. Packing for this trip had been relatively simple, and the rest was being sent to storage. He was just securing the latches when he heard the entry panel open.
“We have things to discuss,” said Hayden.
It was probably a good idea to review their situation before boarding the Rebellion. As excited as Damien was about their mission and spending more time with Hayden, the prospect of meeting the crew was making him uneasy. In all the dockings over the cycles, he never once met the Rebellion’s crew. “Before we join the Rebellion, I want to know if you wish to proceed regarding our courtship.”
Were there uncertainties? Damien thought Hayden wanted this, wanted him. What if he didn’t? Oh... what if he now had to spend cycles on the same ship and Hayden had no interest in continuing.
“Stop,” commanded Hayden. “Whatever you are contemplating—Stop.” He rested his hand on his arm. His arm.
“Would you like—”
“No.” Hayden shook his head slowly. “I am not asking about me. I am committed, but you—What do you want, Damien?”
“I—I want...” He paused for too long and Hayden continued.
“Do you still wish to seek others without me?” Hayden’s face was solemn, neither angry nor agitated. He didn’t look disinterested, but he seemed unusually calm. “I would remove the cuff if you have decided against my suit or remain uncertain about pursuing a bond. I never should have placed it upon you without counseling you.”
Damien felt the pressure of their situation. How should Hayden introduce him to the crew? Over the last flare, he and Hayden had grown close. Being with him was everything Damien had dreamt and more. Hayden had done things he never would’ve suggested, things beyond his imagination. Their mission was easy compared to the idea of traveling on the Rebellion with the crew’s expectations of their captain’s ‘promised one’.
“Am I enough for the Rebellion’s captain?”
Hayden kissed him gently. “You exceed expectations.”
“What of your crew?”
Hayden visibly stiffened. “The Rebellion’s crew serves me,” he said coolly. “And in no manner are you beholden to anyone but me. As a representative of the Galactic Commerce Commission, you are an honored guest on the Rebellion, and as my beshert, you are a cherished one.”
Damien found himself nodding in agreement.
“I promise we will make this work.”
“If you’re sure. I haven’t any doubts about us,” said Damien.
“What would I doubt? I wandered every port, starbase, and planet hoping to find the one who would bring balance to me, my complement. From that first moment, I knew that I could stop searching. I had found the one thing I truly wanted, desired above all else—you. Every thing I did from that moment on was in service to the goal of garnering your attention.”
“You had that when you walked down the promenade for the Trade Gala.”
“Yes, but to keep it I had to earn your regard, be more than one of your diversions,” he admitted somewhat ruefully as he waved his hand. “You had so many choices, and I had so few chances—even then, I squandered more than I should have.”
Damien laughed, and drew his fingers lightly across Hayden’s jaw. “You should have come in that night after Stripes.”
Hayden shook his head. “No. I really could not.” He cradled Damien’s face in his hands. “I would have gone mad. To have one taste and leave—” Hayden broke off, passionately kissing him then resting his forehead against Damien’s. “The sounds of your pleasure alone would have haunted me.” Hayden’s words fell off as their lips met again.
Damien was about to beg for more when Hayden stopped.
“You accept our courtship.” It was more statement than question, but he understood that Hayden was awaiting a response.
“Eagerly.”
Hayden grinned. “Then before we depart, I would ask for one concession from you.”
Damien waited as he pulled out a box and handed it to him. It was plain, but made of fragrant wood. He lifted the lid, and on a silken bed lay another cuff. Silvered and embossed with black starburst patterns, a starfire at the center of each. Hayden took the cuff and placed the box to the side.
He looked at Damien, saying, “I never truly explained the meaning of the first cuff. As you know, it is a promise of courtship and of my intentions to seek a bonding with you. What you did not realize was that by wearing it, you accepted my pledge and made your own. The first cuff is an oath of fealty.”
Damien looked down at his cuff. The gold and jewels glinting as he turned his wrist. “Fealty, that is an archaic term. I know of only one instance in the historical records.”
Hayden nodded. “It has not changed meaning.”
“An oath of fidelity to my lord?”
Hayden gently pulled the golden cuff to his lips and kissed it. “You shall put none before me, and attend me alone.”
“Yes,” sighed Damien. The amber of Hayden’s eyes and the gold of his cuff in that moment were forever entwined in his mind. As long as he wore that cuff, Damien would always feel Hayden’s eyes on him. He looked to the second cuff, disappointed. “Why doesn’t it match?”
“The mate to your golden cuff is locked away until such a time as you and I agree to the final binding.” Hayden lifted the silver one up. “This samarium cuff signifies your accordance to... to serve me. It is temporal. When, and if, you decide to wear the second golden cuff, it will be eternal.”
“But—”
Hayden shook his head. “Bonding is not to be rushed. I have waited cycles and I am willing to wait many more.” He laced his fingers with those on Damien’s unencumbered wrist, bringing them to his lips. “Time is not our enemy.”
He finally felt balanced. Smiling, Damien played with the samarium cuff on his right wrist. The unfamiliar weight soothed more than his equilibrium, heavy like the one on his left, it grounded him. Even better, the two might be locked together, as he found out during Hayden’s demonstration.
It was a fantastic diversion. Damien stopped worrying about Brixton and Kol settling in, or the privacy levels in th
eir accommodations—no the vidscreen should not automatically engage when Hayden was hailed by the crew. The Rebellion’s crew was disturbing enough, let alone when their faces just popped up in the room where they might or might not be presently engaged in personal activities, such as testing the advantages of Damien’s new cuff. The cleansing unit seemed to be the only safe place.
Beyond that imposition, which Hayden failed to see as intrusive, not a single one had addressed him yet. They were silent wraiths roaming the corridors. Hayden laughed when he said that and told him that, until the official presentation, no one would. Damien wasn’t sure how formal introductions were necessary to offer greetings, but he was still learning about Caurentian customs.
Rigid was not precisely the term Damien used last night, but after a few smacks to his posterior that were not the fun kind, he conceded to Hayden’s request to not refer to him and his crew in such vulgar terms—ever again.
“There has been a change to our schedule,” Hayden announced to the crew of the Rebellion. Not the slightest of murmurs or movement. Damien was nervous to meet them before, and after observing their strict protocols, he worried more. As a spiver, he never had to adhere to ship rules. Even when he apprenticed briefly with Security and Intelligence, they didn’t observe this strict hierarchy.
“Navigator, set a course for Kurabyss. We have a special shipment to collect.”
With that proclamation, the personnel took their positions in silence. There were no extraneous sounds, and the crew moved as if choreographed. It was both impressive and terrifying. And they all served his mate.
“Captain Ferrier, course laid,” said the navigator. “All systems ready,” said the commander. “Take us out of port, Commander Arlois,” Hayden directed.
Damien stood beside him. The view of the wormhole as they approached was amazing. He’d seen it his whole life, but it looked nothing like this from the Tower Room. Damien leaned forward and nearly tumbled onto the navigator’s back, unused to the ship’s momentum. None of this was anything like SPV.
“You will get used to it,” Hayden whispered, pulling Damien back against him as the gravity hooks disengaged and the Rebellion shunted towards the wormhole.
The End
Background on the world setup and species for this book, as well as other stories set in it see: https://spv7z218.wordpress.com/
Other works in this universe:
Strange Charm
Krax
Additional works:
A Shift in Sands
Someone Like You
Author Bio:
APS is a Jack-of-all-trades and master of none. Self-defined as terminally curious and prone to self-indulgence, APS excels at frittering. Diagnosed as having issues with authority from a young age, APS frolics in being a perpetrator of general ridiculousness and a defender of the irreverent.
Contact Info: https://aphallussi.wordpress.com/
Matters of State (Space Portal Vector Book 2) Page 5