Wild Passions

by A Storm Moon Press Anthology

  "Point taken," Jason said dryly. He left the bridge and headed back to his quarters. He paused as he stepped into the foyer, looking around with jaded eyes. As the captain, he was given the nicest quarters on the cruiser, nicer even than the first-class cabins that would be going to the Perels. It really wasn't right, he mused. He didn't need all the space, not anymore. He lived alone. Had lived alone for nearly a year now. He had a massive tub that was going to waste, a bed he rarely spent more than a few hours in, and a living room with a couch he never sat on. The formal dining room was always empty, never used for entertaining guests nowadays. When Blake had been with him, they'd had people in at least once a week. The only place that still got the same level of use was the kitchen, and that was just because Jason loved to cook.

  Jason brushed his fingertips across the back of a mahogany dining chair, a piece he had inherited from his parents. He should probably have them sent back to his home on Jacksonville, or just put them into storage, but there was always the possibility that he'd have to use the set at some point. When someone important enough came on board, he'd have to follow the old tradition of inviting them to dine with him. In the meantime, he could deal with the empty spaces. He was very good at that.

  Jason went into the kitchen, carefully laying his captain's jacket over the back of a stool as he did. He glanced in his cooler, looking over his selection of fresh foods. Not much to choose from, and they wouldn't reach Ceyla City for another week. He activated his com and put a call in to the ship's steward. "Kayle?"

  "Yes, Captain?" The Dorn's smooth, harmonic triple voices were immediately soothing, and Jason felt his shoulders relax. He hadn't even realized they were tense.

  "I'm running low on produce. Could you have one of my regular orders brought on board before our departure?"

  "Certainly, sir. May I add some Chinese cabbage to your order? I'm having some brought on board for our guests and thought of you."

  It had been months since Jason had made kimchi. He quickly ran an assessing eye over his cupboard. "Can you find some red chili pepper as well? And fresh ginger?"

  "I will endeavor to meet your needs, sir. The ginger may be quite expensive."

  "That's all right. If you find it, I can afford it," Jason said. It had been a long time since he splurged on anything for himself, and ginger was a versatile luxury.

  "Yes, sir. Anything else?"

  "No, thank you, Kayle. Check in with Flo before you finalize the order, though. She'll be a bear if she doesn't remember to get some of her ice cream on board before we head out."

  "Very true, sir." The lowest of Kayle's voices was heavy with irony, and Jason knew that Kayle remembered that week as vividly as the rest of the crew did. Florence Zelenkar was an excellent officer and a generally cheerful person, but she had her weaknesses, and a certain brand of ice cream only available at their current berth was one of them.

  "Kim out." Jason turned his com off and rolled his neck in a circle, listening to the minute cracks and clicks with a frown. If he had time in Ceyla City, he'd get a massage. There was a relaxation therapist on board, as well as countless holo programs for exercise and stress relief, but Jason didn't really want to bother his crew with his tension, and he never seemed to be able to lose himself to the virtual reality of a holo like he should. Blake had given him massages that seemed to melt his bones, but those had stopped coming long before their relationship had ended.

  Jason closed his eyes and sighed. If he could go back and do it over... No, never mind. There was no point in speculating on the past. He headed towards the bathroom, his lean fingers reaching up to undo his shirt buttons. The tub might not get a lot of use, but the shower was almost as good.

  "Sir?" Florence appeared at his elbow in the loading bay. "We have embarkation starting in five. Time to smarten up and impress the masses."

  "Mm," Jason replied, watching as his hold was rapidly emptied of its cargo. "I'll be right there."

  "Of course you will, sir. And I'll just wait here for you."

  "Commander Zelenkar, I'm not going to stand you or our passengers up," Jason gently chided, knowing what she was thinking.

  "It will mean a lot to them to be personally greeted," she said unrepentantly. "I'm only staying in order to take over if something goes wrong and you're unavoidably detained or something like that."

  Jason stared flatly at his first officer. "You're coming very close to implying dereliction of duty on my part, Commander."

  "That isn't at all my intent, sir. I merely wish to facilitate the execution of your many duties as best I can," Florence said with a perfectly straight face. "That includes me being on hand to assist you in any way possible."

  Jason glanced down at his chrono. "I should probably leave now if I'm going to get to the doors on time." Florence just kept looking attentive. "Thank you."

  "My pleasure, sir. I'll finish things up here."

  "When you're done, meet me in the bridge. Ceyla's control tower is opening the shields for us in forty-five minutes, and we don't want to be late."

  "Yes, sir."

  Jason walked away with the barest hint of a smile on his face. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he had been thinking that he might be a little late, but time was tight, and it was important to get the cargo unloaded as safely and efficiently as possible. His first officer was perfectly capable of overseeing that, however, and the cartel he worked for did specify that the captain of the ship be on hand to greet all incoming passengers, as well as see them off at their destinations.

  He made it to the doors with thirty seconds to spare. The rest of his crew was on hand as well, to welcome the passengers and guide them to their cabins.

  "How many are we taking on?" Jason asked in a low voice as he stopped next to Kayle. The Dorn was bent gracefully in two, a ritual posture signifying welcome, or so Jason had found out a while back. Kayle was still a foot taller than most of the Terran crew.

  "Twenty-seven, sir." Kayle's harmonics were serene. "All human except for the Perels. I have prepared their cabins to their specifications."

  "Good." Naturally, Kayle had everything well in hand. He should; he had six of them, after all. Jason looked at his chrono again. "Open the doors."

  The cruiser's wide passenger doors opened, revealing the high-ceilinged entrance hall, his uniformed, attentive staff, and himself, hopefully looking friendly. Blake had often told Jason that his poker face couldn't improve on his normal imperturbability, and that he'd seen statuary with more emotion. Or some variation thereof. Well, expressionless was better than unhappy, Jason reasoned.

  He did his part in welcoming every passenger aboard, shaking hands, clasping shoulders, or bowing depending on the newcomers' preference. Jason was well acquainted with most of the human-inhabited systems in this part of the 'verse and their protocols. The new arrivals were whisked away, and finally there were only the Perels left to board.

  All three were male, the only gender allowed off of Perelan without a vast accompaniment. Two of them were perfectly identical, answering a question Jason had never bothered to wonder before about their reproductive process. The twins were slightly shorter than he was, with moon-pale skin and glossy, silky hair that tapered to sharp, quill-like protrusions from the top of their head in a line down their spine. Their stylish black jumpsuits, made of far better material than usual for the standard spacer's clothes, were backless to accommodate their alluring anatomy. They had nearly-human features, but their eyes were twice the size of a human's, dark brown and almost without white. Their chins were sharp and pointed, and their ears were shaped like tea leaves, pointed back alongside their heads. They were beautiful, dream-like creatures with the morals of an alley cat, and judging from their perky welcomes and lingering caresses to his hand, they were both in the market for partners.

  The third was similar, but also strikingly different. Every Perel Jason had ever seen before was a single tone, from the smooth skin over their front halv
es to the lustrous pelt across their backs. This one was two-toned, the same white-pale skin, but his hair darkened as it changed, becoming an amber brown at its tapered points. His ears were slightly tufted with darker pieces as well, and his large eyes were the same amber as his head and back. His features were a little less pointed, a little less ethereal, but he was just as beautiful as the other two. He looked curiously at Jason, who suddenly realized that he'd been keeping the Perel waiting.

  "Welcome aboard," Jason said stiffly, disturbed by his lack of focus. He offered his hand, and the Perel shook it gently.

  "Thank you, Captain." His voice was a warm, husky sound, not exactly a purr, but not a normal speaking voice from a human perspective.

  "This is Kayle, the steward on the Silver Star. He'll accompany you to your quarters and answer any questions you might have." Jason stepped back slightly, more than glad to pass the responsibility of settling their passengers off to the capable Dorn. "We'll be departing shortly."

  "I am Ferran," the Perel said quickly, his introduction cutting off Jason's retreat. "These are Neyarr and Parrel, my cousins." His bright eyes were fixed on Jason's face, startlingly intimate.

  "Honored to make your acquaintance," Jason said automatically. "Please excuse me; I need to supervise our departure." He nodded slightly, and then turned and walked away, trying not to move faster than he normally would. Externally, he was fairly sure he looked the same; internally, he was unsettled. Jason had never been affected by a Perel before. Generally, he found them beautiful but not attractive--sexual but not sensual--creatures. He certainly had never been aroused by one before.

  Not, Jason mentally berated himself, that he was aroused now. Interested, perhaps. Yes. Interested. And so would all twenty-four of the other passengers be, and most of his crew as well. He didn't care to be one more brief conquest for a voracious Perel. He didn't want to be anyone's brief conquest. Transitioning in and out of relationships with ease had never been one of Jason's traits, and he wasn't going to change at his age. Squaring his shoulders, he made his way to the bridge.

  "You're avoiding the dining room."

  "I'm not."

  "Yes," Florence said slowly, drawing out the vowel, "you are. You never invite people to your place these days; I get that. You're not under any obligation to. But it's only courteous to check on your passengers and accept some of their invitations to dinner. You've been holed up in your room or on duty for the past three cycles."

  "I'm busy."

  "A captain is always busy," Florence said philosophically. "But that doesn't stop him from doin' what he's gotta do."

  "At what point did you make yourself my social secretary, Flo?"

  "When you started acting all weird," she replied. "C'mon, come to dinner with me tonight. I'll take the Perels, I've got a standing invitation to their table. You can hang out with some lovely, normal humans and be dashing and friendly and make people happy."

  "All that?"

  "All that in one simple evening." She spread her hands. "Amazing how it's all coming together, like fate. You're such a brilliant multi-tasker."

  "Don't push it, Flo."

  "Perry's got the bridge," Florence said with a fast subject change. "Are you going to wear your uniform to dinner?"

  "Of course."

  "Should I?"

  Jason made a face. "Are you asking my fashion advice? Really? What have I ever done that makes you think I would be a good person to ask about what to wear?"

  "You always look good."

  "I'm always in uniform," he reminded her.

  "Yeah, well, it so works for you."

  Jason shook his head. "I'll see you at dinner, Flo."

  "Got it, sir."

  It said something for his state of mind that Jason did look at his more casual clothes, briefly caressing silk and cotton before turning back to his uniforms. They were stiff, formal, and suited to the attitude he wanted to project. He adjusted the collar in his mirror, smoothing the dark blue fabric down. He didn't see in himself what Florence did. He was moderately tall and slim, his hair was thick and still black as night. His features were plain, regular except for the slight tilt at the edge of his almond-shaped eyes. He was just himself. The uniform would make anyone look good. He left his hat off and made his way to the dining room.

  Jason stopped at the door, astonished by the transformation. The elegant tables, normally spaced well apart, had been clustered together in the center of the room. The Perels were, for lack of a better word, holding court, and every single person there was in their thrall. Each of the twins was in someone's lap, and people were laughing and generally being far more relaxed than the formal dining room was accustomed to. The third one, Ferran, was standing and speaking with Florence, but as soon as he saw Jason, his attention shifted. He excused himself from the commander and moved towards Jason. Florence threw him an amused look that made him want to shout at her, but now wasn't the time for emoting.

  "Good evening, sir," the Perel said, his tone warm and inviting. Very inviting... Jason ruthlessly shifted his brain back into captain mode.

  "Good evening." The Perel held out his hand and Jason shook it briefly, resisting the gentle slide of fingers against his wrist. "It's Ferran, yes?" As if you didn't already know.

  "Yes, Captain," Ferran said with a smile. He paused for a moment, as though expecting a first name back, but Jason didn't say anything else. "Will you join me for dinner?"

  "It looks as though there isn't any other choice," Jason said with a glance at the conglomeration of tables. One of the twins was doing some sort of contortion now, in another passenger's lap, and everyone seemed to be enjoying it.

  "We could pull something aside for ourselves," Ferran offered. "I would prefer it." Huge amber eyes gazed at Jason, apparently finding him... finding him what, exactly? Whatever the Perel was seeing, he seemed to be fascinated.

  "Fine," Jason found himself agreeing. "I'll speak to the staff."

  "I can do that," Ferran said quickly. "There are several with the main group now." Sure enough, his diligent wait staff was as taken with the impromptu show as everyone else was. Jason sighed internally. Discipline always suffered when Perels were on board. Ferran slipped away, and Jason quickly walked over to where his first officer was sipping a glass of champagne.

  "Did you know this was happening?"

  "Just because it's happened every night out so far didn't necessarily mean tonight was going to be the same," Florence said primly.

  "I don't appreciate being set up."

  "I'm setting you up for fun!" she encouraged. "Ferran is a great conversationalist. You might enjoy yourself. If you don't, you can leave. One of the perks of being the captain." She leaned in a little closer. "He really wants to know more about you. He's asked me about you every evening since he boarded."

  "Why?"

  Florence was saved from having to answer by the person in question's return. Ferran didn't touch Jason, although from the way he extended his hand towards him, he seemed to want to. Instead, he turned to indicate the table beside the wall, about twenty feet away from the other diners. Jason accepted the invitation and joined him at the table, where a waiter who wouldn't quite meet his captain's eyes poured them fresh glasses of water. Jason picked his up and sipped a little, watching Ferran do the same. "No champagne for you?"

  "I've had a glass," the Perel explained. "My cousins are fonder of it than I am. But you, Captain, would you care for some?"

  "I'll be back on shift in an hour. I don't want any alcohol in my system."

  "One hour?" Ferran seemed disappointed. "You can spare no more time?"

  "One hour should be sufficient for dinner," Jason said. He felt like an asshole when he saw his companion's face fall further. "But please, call me Jason while I'm off duty."

  "Jason." Ferran immediately brightened. "Thank you for your name."

  "My pleasure," he replied, trying not to stare too openly into his companion's eyes. He looked
over at the waiter. "Whatever Elise has fresh is fine."

  "Another of the dinner salads, please," Ferran requested. The third wheel vanished and Jason was left in semi-aloneness with the Perel. Fortunately, he wasn't expected to start the conversation. "You are very reserved."

  Jason set his water glass down with a thump. "Only by comparison." Ouch, harsh, he thought with an inward wince. Ferran didn't seem bothered, however.

  "Yes," he agreed. "More dignified. More... aloof. We are not accustomed to aloof."

  "I can't imagine you would be."

  Ferran shrugged elegantly. "We are empaths. If the surrounding mood isn't comfortable for us, then we do our best to adapt it to better suit our needs."

  "Is that what you're doing with me?" Jason asked, his jaw tight. He really didn't need to be some Perel's pet project right now.

  "No," Ferran said quietly. "The Silver Star is large enough that we could avoid your presence if we wished, and you seem inclined towards privacy. You are not uncomfortable, Jason; you're just different. Your emotions run very deep. I find you quite interesting." He tilted his head slightly. "You do not care for us, however."

  "It's not you specifically," Jason assured him, flushing slightly at being called on his attitude. "I've never really known a Perel before." Damned if that statement didn't have a double meaning, too.

  "Most humans seek us out. We are considered enjoyable company."

  "Undoubtedly."

  "I would be more than happy to better acquaint you with our ways."

  "I'm not interested in sex," Jason said bluntly. Ferran's ears flattened a little.

  "We are more than our sexuality, Captain," he replied, a little less fluidly than before. "I would never presume to ask for more than you wish to give. I simply thought you might find our culture interesting. Most humans never bother to inquire," he added.

  Ah. That's what jumping to conclusions gets me. "Excuse me. I didn't mean to offend you." Oh, what the hell. "I'd be very interested to learn more about your culture."

  Ferran smiled, his ears perking back up and the quills along his head settling to softness again. "Do you have any specific questions?"