“Okay,” Polina answered, a wave of nervousness rippling through her.
“It’s about Arryn,” Galen said. “Take it easy on him, okay?”
“Take it easy on him?” Polina tried to pull her hand away, but Galen held firm in the darkness. “He’s the one who went of the offensive first. He called me ‘ignorant,’ Galen—”
“He didn’t mean it as an insult,” Galen said. “His people have a hard time with feelings, okay? Have you ever met a Dardassyian before?”
Polina shook her head then, realizing the uselessness of that gesture in the darkness, answered, “No.”
“Well, they’re a proud race, they come off as cold and unfeeling sometimes. But that’s only on the outside, yeah? They don’t express themselves like other races. They’re humanoid, but they don’t have the same emotional behaviors, the same expressions—”
“He smiled at me, Galen. He totally used a facial expression,” Polina argued.
Galen’s sigh echoed through the small bunker. “He learned that from me. I don’t just pilot for him, I try to help him be more…I don’t know, accessible? All he wants is to stop this IA embargo against his planet and I thought that being more emotionally available would help him in negotiations. He’s trying, Polina. I know it doesn’t look like it, but he’s really trying.”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” Polina muttered.
“Watch his markings,” Galen said suddenly.
“What?”
“His markings. Those gold patterns on his skin,” Galen said. “Surely you’ve noticed them.”
Polina had definitely noticed hem.
“They’re emotional markers,” he explained. “You have to know what you’re looking for but, once you’ve got it figured out, he’s easy to read.”
“You can read him?” Polina asked.
“Okay, I can read him like a book.”
“What does he think about me?”
Galen paused. “I don’t think that’s appropriate to say.”
“Great,” Polina huffed. “He hates me. I’m crash-landed on a moon with a diplomat who hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you, Polina,” Galen said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s going to hate me in a second.”
Polina was puzzled. “Why would he—”
Galen’s mouth was on hers then, warm and soft, an unexpected shock in the darkness of the bunker. Polina gasped against him and, as suddenly as it pressed against her, it was gone.
“Was that okay?” Galen asked, his rough voice worried in the dark.
Polina nodded, realizing again the uselessness of that gesture in the blackness. “It was,” she stammered.
Galen didn’t lead with a kiss this time. Instead, he slid his rough hand over the delicate line of her jaw, drawing a path for his mouth to follow.
He kissed down the trail of her jawline and Polina trembled in the darkness.
“Galen,” she whispered, the unfamiliar treble of her voice echoing through the empty room.
“Polina?”
“Please don’t stop doing that,” she replied, breathless.
Galen did not stop. He gave his mouth free rein, allowing it to ravage the delicate line of Polina’s lips, press in against her with his warm, wanting tongue. She met him with eagerness, her own tongue dancing around his as he lapped into her mouth, exploring and claiming.
Polina’s breath was coming in hitching gulps now. It had been so long since she’d been touched by anyone. All of her colleagues at the IA were too career-minded to be distracted by affairs of the flesh. She let her mind drift back to the last time she’d been intimate with anyone and her mind drew a blank. She couldn’t remember.
She gasped, drawn out of her reverie by Galen’s strong hands cupping her breasts. Polina, distracted by the intensity of the kiss and the journey through her own sad romantic history, had lost track of Galen’s hands.
They had her full focus now, though, as they tugged at the zipper at the front of her flight suit, pulling it down and allowing him access to her bare skin. Polina felt the cool air as the fabric pulled away and then the heat of Galen’s skin as he caressed her full breasts.
“Polina,” he gasped as he kissed a sloppy trail down her throat, pausing long enough to nip playfully at her collarbone before diving further and taking one nipple between his full lips.
“Galen,” she answered, her voice high and electric under his careful ministrations. He nipped at her nipple, tugging it between his sharp teeth and Polina moaned, the sound echoing loudly through the darkness of the bunker. “Galen,” she moaned again, and he moved to the other breast, pulling her erect nipple into his warm mouth.
Polina’s hands searched back into the darkness and, having ascertained that there was indeed more mattress behind them, reached over and pulled Galen on top of her. His weight was solid, heavily reassuring in the darkness. Polina bucked her hips up experimentally and was rewarded with the hard press of Galen’s erection against the flat wall of her abdomen.
She moaned happily and could feel Galen smile against her lips in the darkness.
“You like what you feel, huh?” he whispered against the soft skin of her throat.
“You’re cocky, aren’t you?” Polina tried to be stern, but laughter sparkled under her words. “You flyboys are all the same, aren’t you?”
“Oh, you’ve been with a pilot before, have you?” Galen teased.
“No,” Polina admitted. “But I’ve heard stories.”
“Stories?” Galen sounded pleased. “What kind of stories?”
Polina slid her hand between their bodies, letting it explore downward as Galen pressed hot kisses against her breasts. “I’ve heard that you boys never stop talking,” she smirked, her hand playing with the belt of Galen’s trousers.
“That’s true,” he admitted, breath coming in short bursts now that he knew where Polina’s hand was heading. “We never shut up, really.”
Polina unbuckled his belt and quickly unfastened the button and zip. “That’s what I’ve heard,” she said, slipping her hand inside his fly, the hardness of his cock brushing against her hand. “That you pilots just talk and talk and talk. In fact, I’ve heard there’s just one way to shut you up.”
She deftly wrapped her fist around the thick shaft of Galen’s cock and jerked up once.
The reply faded from his lips, replaced instead by a whimper. She jerked her hand again and Galen whimpered louder.
“Looks like the stories are true, captain,” Polina whispered into the shell of his ear as she deftly jerked him off. “If you want a pilot’s attention, you just need to take him in hand and make him pay attention.”
Galen cried out as Polina twisted her hand at his tip, adding extra sensation to the sensitive head. She felt his body tense against her, trembling as he spilled against her hand, covering her with the heat of his release. She murmured gently into his curls as he nestled against her, shaking with pleasure.
The blackness of the bunker was filled with the soft sound of their breath, each matching the other’s rhythm as they curled together in the dark.
“Polina?” Galen’s voice rose out of the blackness. “We should go.”
“We should,” she reluctantly agreed.
Galen’s reassuring weight disappeared from her side for a moment, then he was back, his strong arms wrapping around her as he pulled her to her feet.
Together, they made their way through the darkness and out of the bunker, tracing their steps back to the crash site, where Arryn was waiting for them.
***
The wind had died down by the time Polina and Galen exited the hatch, and they quickly made their way back to the crash site as dusk fell over the surface of the red moon.
When they arrived back at the downed shuttle, they found Arryn huddled over a small fire, a silver emergency blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He glanced up as they approached, eyes flat as he looked over Polina, then Galen.
“I was worried,” he said
simply, looking completely unconcerned.
Polina frowned, but Galen put one hand on her arm to keep her quiet.
“Sorry to worry you, Arr,” Galen said softly, joining his friend at the fire. “We found an abandoned IA bunker. It had some beds, some rations. We wanted to explore it thoroughly before heading back.”
Polina noticed that Galen did not say anything about what they’d done after they’d searched the bunker.
“I see,” Arryn replied, then fell back into silence as he gazed into the flames.
“How did you make a fire?” Polina asked politely, testing the waters between herself and Arryn.
He looked up at her and a very human-like smile flickered over his finely sculpted features. “There was an emergency kit in the shuttle under one of the jump seats,” he admitted. “It had one fire kit and a few emergency blankets.”
Galen’s face lit up. “Great! This will be okay for tonight, and maybe tomorrow, we’ll move into the bunker—”
“Tomorrow?” Polina paled. She’d forgotten that Galen had estimated a one or two-day repair job.
“I’ll get us out of here as fast as I can, Polina,” Galen replied, looking sorry. “But it’s definitely going to take me a couple of days. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Arryn added, unnecessarily. “Would you like some water?”
He held out a small canteen in Polina’s direction. She looked up at him and back at the canteen. It was a very kind gesture, even if his face remained stoic and flat as he made it.
“Thank you,” Polina said, finally. She took a swig of the water. It was clean and clear, with just a hint of purifying chemicals that the IA put in all their liquids.
“Hey, look at this!” Galen crowed. “We’re all getting along! See, all we need to do to bring peace across the galaxy is to crash land a bunch of diplomats on a desolate moon and force them to get along. It’s genius!”
“If you ever run for IA president, Galen,” Polina joked. “You have my vote.”
“Really?” Arryn’s eyes widened just the smallest bit and his gold markings swirled around his eyes. “You would vote for Galen as president of the IA?”
Polina sighed. “No, not really. It was a joke, Arryn.”
Arryn frowned, then tried on his human smile again. “That’s funny,” he stated.
“You know what’s funny?” Galen chimed in. “It’s funny how we’re all gonna starve to death waiting for Polina to pull the damned dinners out of her pockets so we can eat.”
“Oh!” Polina gasped, and fished in the cargo pockets of her flight suit to retrieve the packets of dried ration packs.
The small group huddled around the fire, carefully chewing their rations and washing the dry bites down with bits of water from the canteens Arryn had found in the shuttle.
By the time they’d finished, darkness had fallen over the moon and the three of them huddled together over the small fire in companionable silence.
“So,” Polina began, stifling a yawn. “How did you two meet? Seems weird for a Dardassyian to be running around with an Artarian.”
“It’s not that weird,” Galen answered, sliding down until he was lying flat on his back on the red sand ground. “My father was an ambassador—just an Artarian ambassador, I mean. This was before the IA—and he was always travelling to Dardassyius. I usually came along for the ride and that’s how I met Arryn.”
“My father is the prime minister,” Arryn added. Polina wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a hint of emotion in the alien’s normally stoic voice. “He had a very good relationship with Galen’s father, therefore, I had a good relationship with Galen.”
Galen laughed. “He makes it sound like a business deal. Basically, our fathers got together and conducted interplanetary business while the two of us ran rampant through the palace on Dardassyius.”
A hint of smile played at the corner of Arryn’s lips. A real smile, Polina thought, not his impression of a human girl.
“Once, my tutor caught us trying to fly one of the patrol crafts,” Arryn said. “He was so angry, I thought his markings would fly off his face.”
“His markings?” Polina blurted without thinking. Galen had told her all about them in the bunker. The markings were how Dardassyians displayed their emotions. She had no doubt that, if she were to look at Arryn in that instant, his markings would be screaming annoyance.
Strangely enough, there was no anger or frustration in Arryn’s response, not even a little, as he told Polina what she already knew. About the way Dardassyians used their markings to subtly convey emotions.
“How are you feeling now?” Polina ventured.
Arryn shrugged in the firelight. “Memories of my childhood with Galen are pleasant, so, I suppose I would say I’m feeling content.”
Polina squinted across the fire as the lines and symbols on Arryn’s face. They were soft now, no harsh angles or edges. The gold designs did look peaceful and content in the flickering glow of the fire.
“Oh, hey,” Galen’s sat up suddenly. “I want to show you something, Arryn.”
He rustled through his pockets and pulled out the portable cam, the one he’d used to take some snaps in the bunker. “Check these out,” Galen said, showing the viewscreen of the cam to Arryn. “Look familiar?”
Arryn’s markings sprung into a pattern of short, sharp lines as his eyes widened. “Those are Dardassyian glyphs,” he whispered. “Where did you find those?”
“In the bunker,” Galen told him, his voice low. “On this moon.”
“Here?” Arryn’s eyebrows shot up and his markings scattered to the edges of his hairline. “But I thought you said you found an IA bunker—”
“We did.”
“Then how are there Dardassyian glyphs in an IA bunker,” Arryn muttered. “We’ve never colonized with the IA. Never.”
Galen reached one hand over and set it gently on his friend’s arm, squeezing it lightly. “I know, buddy. I know.”
Polina watched them, suddenly guilty about the time she’d spent in the bunker with Galen, the way they touched each other. She felt like an interloper, an unwanted presence upsetting the delicate balance of this friendship.
“We’ll figure it out,” Galen repeated, then glanced up and smiled at Polina. “All three of us. We’ll figure it out.”
***
Galen was up before dawn, opening panels on the shuttle and fiddling with wires.
“Well, the hyper-speed is shot,” he announced, when Polina and Arryn staggered, bleary-eyed, out of the shuttle’s passenger bay.
Sleeping arrangements had been a challenge in the small confines of the taxi shuttle. They’d managed to pull the cushions off of the jump seats and make a small nest out of those and the emergency blankets Arryn had found in the survival kits. It had still been an uncomfortable night, as Polina found herself wedged between the two males, each insisting that she sleep between them so they could keep her warm. She’d wanted to argue that she was an independent female who could keep herself warm at night, but that wasn’t entirely the case. The surface of the moon was frigid at night and Polina was grateful for the warmth of the two large male bodies surrounding her.
Not that she’d ever admit it to either of them.
While she enjoyed the warmth, she was uncomfortably aware of the closeness of Galen’s sleeping body, a body she’d pleasurably explored only hours earlier in the bunker. Galen’s touch had awakened something dormant inside her, and she found herself wanting more of the Artarian. Of course, that desire was highly inappropriate when sleeping wedged between Galen and his best friend, so Polina spent the night trying to purge unseemly thoughts from her mind and make sure her hands weren’t roaming to places that they oughtn’t.
It had been an exhausting night.
“What?” Arryn asked, his voice thick with sleep.
“The hyper-speed,” Galen repeated, speaking unnecessarily slowly and loudly, as if Polina and Arryn were particularly slow children. “It�
�s broken.”
“What’s to be done?” Polina asked, keeping her voice steady. She was already in trouble for being off-planet without leave. If this fix took more than a few days, she could be facing some severe consequences.
“I can fix it,” Galen replied confidently. “We’ll get back into orbit, but we won’t be travelling anywhere fast for a while.”
“Dardassyius is close,” Arryn offered. “We could limp home and put Polina on a fully-functional ship back home.”
“A Dardassyian ship?” Polina was fully awake now. “I couldn’t show up back at IA headquarters in a—”
Galen waved her off. “I know, Junior Ambassador,” he snapped. “I know. Just give it time, okay? We’ll think of something.”
Arryn put one arm lightly around her shoulders and led her away from the wrecked ship. “It’s better to leave him alone when he’s like this,” he told her. “Galen can be a bit cranky when he’s trying to fiddle with engine systems.”
“Thank you,” Polina replied. She looked over at Arryn to say more, but the words caught in her throat. The morning sun illuminated the Dardassyian and, in the sparkling rays of the sunrise, he was beautiful. The light danced down his profile, gilding the perfect edge of his high forehead, stern brow, finely shaped nose and delicate lips. The golden embossing of his markings reflected the sun’s light, making them even more golden in exchange.
Polina bit her lip as Arryn turned to face her. His blue eyes were soft and kind this morning. She wondered if the expression was sincere.
“Will you show me this bunker?” Arryn asked her softly. Behind them, Galen banged at the ship’s hyper-speed console and spewed a stream of curses that would have been illegal on most planets.
“Of course,” Polina said, glancing back at Galen. A twist of guilt tugged at her stomach, but she tried to push it away. What had happened between her and Galen was pleasant, but it wasn’t anything serious. There was no agreement between them. She shouldn’t feel guilty about her pang of attraction for his friend.
Arryn loped back to the ship, spoke to Galen for a brief moment, then quickly returned to Polina. “He said to be sure and bring a flashbeam,” Arryn told her, patting a bulge in the hip pocket of his brown flight suit.
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