BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The vaguely familiar noise brought Eris back to reality. Her vision blurry from the tears pooled in her eyes, she dimly noticed her communication wristband was glowing. “Why are you glowing?” she demanded of the band, angrily wiping away her tears. “As if my life wasn’t miserable enough without you going all radioactive on me.”
“Eris, please stop babbling and listen,” a voice said from the device.
“Miguri?” She was elated to hear his voice, even if it was just through a communicator.
“Varrin is currently moping in the engine room, and he is driving us insane,” the Claktill informed her. “From what I have been able to discern from his ramblings, he proposed marriage to you, fool that he is, and you said no.”
“Yeah, I did. But then he ran off before I could explain why I turned him down!”
“That is what I guessed, based on my limited knowledge of human and Rakorsian romantic interactions. Knowledge that I would prefer to remain limited, by the way. In any case, I absolutely refuse to spend another minute with him in this condition. And Grashk is becoming … perturbed.”
“There’s not much I can do, Miguri. The ship’s gone! You’re probably halfway to Saturn by now.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” the Claktill snorted. “It would take over two days to reach Saturn. And besides, we have not even left Earth yet. You, my friend, are in the wrong clearing.”
“No, I’m …” she trailed off and looked at her surroundings more carefully. “Oh.”
“We are a hundred yards to your left, beyond the copse of trees,” Miguri instructed. “Hurry up. The Rakorsian’s mood is dark enough to blot out your sun.”
Her heart racing, Eris pushed her way through the thicket separating her from the correct clearing. “Can you tell if he’s in a listening mood?” she asked Miguri anxiously. “Will he even talk to me when I get there?”
“He has been sulking since he returned last night,” Miguri replied, “but I am sure you will be able to talk some sense into him. Ah, I can see you on the monitors now.”
Breaking into the clearing, Eris saw the red shuttle. As soon as the hatch slid open, she hastily climbed aboard and headed toward the cockpit.
Miguri met her halfway down the hallway. “The Rakorsian is in there,” he announced, gesturing toward the small engine room at the back of the vessel. “Be cautious. Do you want me to find you a striker in case he turns violent?”
Eris waved her hands reassuringly. “It’s not going to come to that.”
Marching up to the engine room door, she tried to open it, but found it locked. “Varrin! Open up!” When there was no response, she smacked the metal door loudly with her hand. “Ow.”
A moment later the door unlocked. Eris opened the door and slipped inside. She saw Varrin sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall. He had a black bottle in one hand and a gloomy look on his face.
“Hey,” she said softly, kneeling beside him. “I need to talk to you.”
He looked straight past her, as if she were invisible.
He’s not drunk—Rakorsian metabolism and all—but I want him to pay attention to me, Eris thought. “Give me the bottle,” she commanded, attempting to wrestle it from his grip. His fist tightened, and she toppled backward from the effort. “Fine!” she snapped, rolling over onto her knees. “I came all the way here to explain myself, but since you’re clearly more interested in that bottle than me, I’ll just be on my way.”
“Be my guest,” Varrin said flatly. “You’ve made your feelings more than clear. Go back to your happy little terrestrial life and leave me alone.”
“Stop brooding for a second and listen to me! I need you to understand what happened last night.”
“I understand just fine, Eris.” He said her name so harshly that she knew he didn’t understand at all. “I remember you saying you loved me and then rejecting me for no good reason.”
“There was a good reason,” Eris snapped. “If you hadn’t stormed off, I could have told you!”
“Oh, really?” he drawled. “And what might that be?”
Eris rearranged herself into a cross-legged position. “In case you’ve forgotten,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “I’m very young. I’ve never been in a relationship before, let alone been proposed to. I said no because I’m not ready to commit to marriage right now.”
She saw a flicker of hope appear in his eyes. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I’m not ready now, but if you give me time, I very well might get there. Eventually. Look, I know you’ve romanced half the women in the Tetrarchy, Varrin, but I haven’t.”
“Shame.” He grinned.
“Shut up. You know what I meant. Are you even beginning to understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
“I think so.” He fixed her with a calculating look. “So, if marriage is off the table, how do you feel about being my paramour?”
She laughed. “I don’t even know what that means. How about we just say I’m your girlfriend?”
Varrin grabbed her and crushed her against him. “Good enough,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t think I could take another rejection.”
Eris relaxed in his arms, enjoying the feeling of being close to him again. “What? Big, strong Varrin, not able to handle rejection?” she murmured.
“Not from you.”
She melted. “I’m coming with you,” she told him, gazing up into his gray eyes.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, stroking her hair.
“And if you get tired of me, or vice versa, you will have the decency to return me here and not sell me into slavery, right?”
He laughed. “You have my word. But that’s not going to happen.”
Eris wrapped her arms around the Rakorsian’s neck and kissed him. It amazed her how perfectly their bodies fit together.
After a few seconds, Varrin broke away and held up a finger in warning. “You realize you may never come back to Earth if you go with me now.”
“I don’t care,” Eris said firmly. “I’d choose you over Earth any day.”
Varrin released her, a pensive expression on his face. He rummaged around in his pocket and then pulled out a delicate golden pendant that swung from a platinum chain. It was engraved with strange symbols.
“What’s that?” Eris asked.
“This,” he said, “is for you. It’s a … promise pendant. It’s my oath to you. Whenever you decide you’re ready to be mine forever, just say the word and I’m all yours.” He winked.
Eris flushed. “Varrin, you can’t make promises like that.”
“I can do whatever I please. I’m a prince, after all.”
Smiling, Eris lifted her hair so he could clasp the chain around her neck. The gleaming medallion settled smoothly against her chest, hanging just above her lamri. The metal was curiously warm, and when it touched her skin, a strange sensation swept briefly through her body. “Varrin,” she said quietly. “I love you.”
He kissed her softly. “I’m not sure I know how to love, but for you, I’m willing to try.”
“That was corny.”
“That was romantic,” he corrected. “You should appreciate the effort.”
Eris smiled. “I do.”
44
Miguri and Grashk looked up as Eris and Varrin entered the cockpit. The Ssrisk took one look at their intertwined hands, grunted, and turned back to the control panel.
“You two have made up, I take it,” the Claktill observed.
“Yup!” Eris grinned.
“Then we can finally leave this Kari-forsaken planet,” Grashk hissed.
Eris threw her arms around the scaly alien. “I’m so glad I decided to come with you guys! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Release me,” the Ssrisk commanded, “or I will be forced to take violent action.”
“Try that and I’ll kill you,” Varrin said pleasantly.
Eris released
Grashk and stepped back toward Varrin. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she leaned against him with a happy sigh. “Now what?” she asked. “Where are we going next?”
“Our top priority is to retrieve the Nonconformity,” Varrin said. “Since Grashk apparently can’t make contact with his ship, we’ll have to assume it’s been captured by the Psilosians. Which means it’s probably on its way to a Tetrarchy shipyard right now.”
“The Ss’Rass’Kris now belongs to me,” Grashk hissed. “I too intend on retrieving my vessel.”
Eris glanced from one alien to the other. “Well, then, it looks like we’re in for another adventure.”
“Oh, hardly,” Varrin drawled, stepping forward and taking the copilot’s seat that Miguri quickly vacated. “The nearest Tetrarchy shipyard, in the Pegasi system, is only a heavily guarded platform with long-range plasma cannons. It should be fairly simple to infiltrate.”
Grashk phhh-ed. “You know your shipyards.”
Varrin shrugged modestly. “What can I say? I spent three months as a Psilosian construction worker at the Betelgeuse shipyard.”
“That does not make sense,” Grashk argued. “You look nothing like a Psilosian.”
“Well, I pulled it off, didn’t I? Look, considering the weapons we have at our disposal—”
“Which would be you, me, Miguri, Grashk, and a flashy red shuttle pod,” Eris said.
“—I’d say that, allowing for any minor inconveniences—”
“Which includes anything from me breaking a nail to one of us dying, no doubt.”
“—we can probably get there, break in, take over the station, and retrieve our ships inside of two weeks.”
Eris waited for the proviso.
“This is, of course, assuming that their weapons are for some reason out of service, their security system is malfunctioning, and all the guards are on vacation. Oh, and that the rat suddenly reveals himself to be a cunningly disguised Vekrori Trade Lord.”
“That’s the worst plan, ever!” Eris exploded.
“What? It’s a work in progress. Give it time.”
The general communications array suddenly lit up. When Varrin shot Miguri a curious look, the Claktill said, “I programmed it to alert us if any of our names are mentioned in the news.”
Varrin nodded and flipped open the channel. They heard a female voice, in midreport.
“This reporter can now officially say that notorious thief, swindler, pirate, prince, and ladies’ man Varrin Gara’dar has once again evaded Tetrarchy custody. His vessel has been seized and impounded, but this reporter is fairly certain that it won’t remain that way for long, considering his history of breaking into even the most secure facilities—”
There was a scuffling sound. A few seconds later, the same voice continued speaking but in a disgruntled tone.
“Apparently it is politically incorrect, and possibly illegal, to imply that anyone, including Varrin Gara’dar, is capable of entering a secure facility without proper military clearance. On behalf of Nova 1089.7 QM, I retract my previous statement and conclude with the following official government message: Anyone who spots Varrin Gara’dar or his companions—currently identified as a Ssrisk, a female humanoid, and a Claktill—and fails to report the sighting will serve five years in prison without chance of parole.”
Varrin clicked the channel off.
“I guess we’re stuck being galactic criminals,” Eris said lightly. “Bummer.”
“There are worse fates,” Miguri said.
“Back to retrieving my ship—” Varrin said.
“Our ships,” Grashk hissed.
“Retrieving our ships from those evil, nasty Psilosians. Once we’ve managed that, Eris and I can spend the rest of our lives on a whirlwind tour of the galaxy, leaving chaos and destruction … I mean, love and harmony, in our wake.”
“Well, at least you’re trying,” Eris sighed.
“Certainly not succeeding, though,” Miguri said, snickering under his breath.
“Very well!” Varrin announced grandly, leaping to his feet. “Friends, allies, lovely ladies”—He winked at Grashk, who hissed and nearly broke the steering mechanism in half—“our ships may be lost, but our lives are still ours! As long as we believe in ourselves and trust that harmony shall prevail in this vast, heartless galaxy that we call home, we shall never bow to the tyranny that is the Tetrarchy. For freedom!”
There was a distinct lack of cheering.
“Come on.” He scowled, sitting back down in the copilot’s chair. “It was an inspirational speech! You’re supposed to cheer.”
“Varrin,” Eris said, somewhat impatiently, “you represent the forces of chaos in this galaxy. You can’t argue that harmony will prevail, or else you’re setting yourself up for defeat.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Right then,” Varrin grumbled, turning to the controls. “I’ll just start us on our way, shall I?”
After they cleared Earth’s atmosphere, Eris left the two pilots in the cockpit and went to sit with Miguri in the shuttle’s main cabin. Her little friend turned away from the window through which he had been watching the blue-green planet recede and smiled at her. “I am glad you have decided to join us, my friend,” he chirped. “I was already starting to miss you.”
“Me too,” Eris said, bending forward and hugging him. She caught her reflection in the window and the glint of Varrin’s golden pendant hanging from her neck. “Say, Miguri,” she said, lifting the necklace to show him. “What do you make of this? Varrin calls it a promise pendant. He says that, by giving it to me, he’s promising to wait for me until I want to marry him, no matter how long it takes.”
Miguri peered at the necklace. His eyes narrowed. “Did he? That is a little surprising.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” the Claktill said carefully, his hair spiking up in agitation, “from what I understand, on Rakor those medallions mean more possession than promise.”
Eris frowned. “Meaning what? You’re saying this marks me as his property?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what does it mean, Miguri? Varrin promised he wouldn’t lie to me anymore!”
“Well, he was not exactly lying,” the Claktill noted. “Just omitting some of the truth. A lot of truth, actually.”
“Miguri,” Eris whispered in a deathly serious tone, “what does the medallion mean?”
“You do not want to hear this.”
“Tell me!”
“Well, according to Rakorsian law and custom, by accepting this medallion from Varrin, you essentially agreed to become his … erm …”
“Slave?” Eris growled. “Possession? Chattel? Tell me, Miguri!”
“Wife,” he squeaked.
“Wife?” She grabbed her friend’s little shoulders. “Please repeat that, Miguri. I’d like to hear it one more time before I murder the man I love.”
“By Rakorsian law,” Miguri trilled apologetically, “you two are, well, married.”
Eris nodded. “I see.” Then she seized a striker and stormed toward the cockpit. “Varrin!”
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I would like to thank my mother, Linda Schneidereit, for all the help she has given me in getting this book published. Serving as my unpaid manager, editor, life coach, piggy bank, and confidante is no easy task, and she took on every role with great enthusiasm, determination, and a relatively minor amount of complaining. Without her eye for detail and hilarious obsession with commas, this book would never have seen the light of day.
My sincere thanks to Viviane Proulx, who inspired and uplifted me with her unswerving faith and support. Thank you to my brother, Jesse, for being the first person to ever read the book, and for never failing to point out the myriad logical flaws in everything I write. And although you never read the book until it was actually published, Daddy, I thank you for all your love and support just the same.
Thank you to Rhiannon
Barlow for being my everlasting fount of encouragement and enthusiasm, and for offering to stand on a street corner and hawk my book to passersby. To Emily Wells—thank you for all the support you have given me over the years, and for reminding me to never lose my faith in gay subtext. Thank you to Matthew Cook for loving my book, providing me with chapter-by-chapter commentary, and for being my writing buddy. And Paul Sham gets a special shout-out for all his hard work on the original cover design.
To my massive, alphabetically listed editing and proofreading team—Emma Armstrong, Harmony Baisley, Rhiannon Barlow, Kaleigh Boyd, Audra Bradley, Matthew Cook, Alisse Palmer, Jesse Proulx, Viviane Proulx, Linda Schneidereit, Paul Schneidereit, Sean Stobbe, Alex Tettenborn, Peter Visser, and Emily Wells—you know how awesome you are. Thank you for your time and energy and for pointing out when things got too scary, or serious, or just plain ridiculous. I apologize for the cringe-worthy rough drafts I forced you to read. Keep your editing pens and stickers handy, because this will be the first of many stories to cross your desks.
My gratitude also to iUniverse for helping me publish this book. I was wary of navigating the treacherous waters of self-publishing alone, but iUniverse proved to be an invaluable compass. Bad sailing metaphors aside, thank you to all the wonderful people at iUniverse who helped me with this project!
And finally I extend my thanks to you, dear reader, for buying this book. I had a blast writing it, and hopefully you’ve had almost as much fun reading it!
Enjoyed the book? Want to find out what happens next? A sequel is in the works, and it’s going to be epic. Visit michelleproulx.com for the latest news, free giveaways, contests, my blog, and much more. I can’t wait to meet you!
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