by Celia Kyle
“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.
“I wish I knew how to make it easier on them but it almost seems impossible. We all just have to try our best to work together,” I speak without even looking at him, not believing my own words.
“How long do you plan on allowing them to stay? I mean, this isn’t a permanent arrangement. Right?” There is no missing the trepidation in his voice.
I can’t imagine anything more awful than an extra one hundred and seven individuals aboard my ship, women or otherwise. The Queen just doesn’t have the means to hold that many long term. Being an older vessel, she’s already in need of repairs far more often than a newer ship would be, and I’ll never give her up—not for anything or anyone. I’ll not replace her in order to accommodate over a hundred females who don’t give a shit what ship they’re on, so long as they’re not chained to it.
“They won’t be with us much longer, Grantian. You can be sure of that,” I tell him, hoping to assuage his fears. I make a mental note to mention the women’s impending departure when I speak with Varia about the other issues.
Grantian only grunts in response.
Taking a deep breath, I pick up my communication unit and patch into Varia’s frequency. There’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. She and I need to put a stop to the quarreling between our two factions quickly. The last thing I need is a mutiny on my hands or worse—a complete desertion.
“Varia, this is Solair. Can you please join me on the bridge? I have an urgent matter to discuss with you,” I speak into the device.
Within seconds I hear her sultry, irritating voice come through loud and clear.
“No can do, Cap—I’m on my way to the med bay. Your doc is apparently planning to open the first of the cryopods, so I need to be there to ensure he doesn’t fuck anything up. I’ll let you know when I’m available. Over and out,” she says.
The sudden sound of dead air on my comm device indicates she’s turned hers off completely, clearly uninterested and unwilling to hear anything I have to say. Try as I may, I can barely contain the apprehension I have about Nicari reviving women from cryo. We’re already at capacity and now he wants to add more to the mix?
“Better buckle up, Captain. Things are about to get even more interesting,” Grantian chuckles.
My response, peppered with curse words that would curl the toes of my dead ancestors, only makes him laugh harder.
Chapter Seventeen
Varia
In preparation for some of the cryopods being opened, I’m wanting to find the best technical mind I know. So before getting to the med bay, I make a slight detour. I continue on down the curving corridors until I come across Thrase. She’s ensconced herself on one of the observation decks, pecking away at a data pad while a mug of something hot and steamy rests on a fixed table nearby.
I approach her slowly, so as not to startle her, and stand nearby for several seconds waiting for her to notice me.
When that fails, I politely intrude. “Looks like an engrossing read.”
Thrase lifts her gaze from the data monitor and pushes her horn-rimmed glasses up further on her nose.
“Quite.” She shows me the title—Temporal Segregation and the Effects upon Physiognomically Heterogenous Populations of Sapient Species.
“Uh… is there an abridged version?” I scratch the back of my head and wait for her obliging chuckle. “Listen, if you have some time, I could use your assistance.”
“I’d be happy to be of service. Besides, this article is shallow and pedantic at times.”
She tucks the pad away in a leather satchel she’s acquired somewhere. Judging from the IHC logo, it came from the Frontier. She then rises to her feet and we turn to leave the observation deck. I take one last, longing look at the sea of stars and the crimson tones of a distant nebula before the door closes. I wish I had more time to just take in the sights.
“You have yet to enlighten me as to what purpose I might bend my specific set of skills, Varia.”
“Oh, sorry.” We move to the side of the corridor so several Kilgari can hustle past. They nod at us with anxious smiles on their golden-skinned faces. I keep forgetting they’re not used to women being egalitarian. “The Kilgari doctor… what was his name?”
“Nic—Nick something. Nicotine, nectar…it’s an N name. It’s definitely an N name.”
I scoff at her, blowing air out my lips and making my bangs dance.
“I thought you were a genius?”
“Ha ha. Your jest is understood, if not appreciated.” Despite her chagrin, Thrase manages to smile. “Besides, even the great Albert Einstein had to write down people’s names because he couldn’t remember them either.”
“Right. Well, Doctor N-something is attempting to open the cryostasis pods of our fellow ‘guests’ on the Frontier, and I’d prefer it if someone with more experience treating humans were present.”
“I’ll be happy to assist, but…” she gestures down the junction of a different corridor. “…isn’t that the way to the Queen’s medical bay?”
“It is, but we’re heading past Fiona’s quarters to drag her along, too. She’s a whiz with gadgets, so maybe she can help us safely crack those pods open.”
“A most prudent decision. Very well.”
We head down to Fiona’s borrowed quarters and bang on the door like savages. Still no door chimes. But when the door slides back, it reveals a chamber that more closely resembles crew quarters than an unused cargo hold. A poster of circuit schematics adheres to one wall, and a magnetic-lighted end table provides illumination. Fiona herself glances up from the mass of electronics and snake-like, tangled wires when we come in.
“What is it, Varia? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”
“Aren’t you always?” I grin. “Come on, shut-in, there’s a whole ship worth exploring.”
“Hard pass.” She returns her attention to the exploded device on her bed. Thrase steps forward and clears her throat.
“Allow me, Varia,” she speaks more loudly to Fiona. “Oh, Fiona? Would you like to come along and criticize every nuance of a male doctor’s procedures?”
“Now you’re speaking my language.” Fiona unfolds herself from the bed and stretches before falling in behind us. “We’re going to Nicari’s right?”
“Nicari,” I snap my fingers. “That was it.”
“Told you it was an N name,” Thrase murmurs.
The three of us make our way up to the medical bay, where we find the good doctor Nicari ensconced with four cryopods. I know there were many more than four.
“Doctor Nicari?”
He turns his gaze toward us, flipping up a pair of magnifying goggles as he does so. Like all of the Kilgari, he’s golden skinned and gorgeous, but there’s a sort of manic energy to him that seems lacking in the rest of the crew.
“Varia—please, you may call me merely Nicari. No need for formalities. Solair has informed me to assist
you in any way I can, no matter how major or minor.” He turns back to the pod for a moment and takes a reading, finishing the rest of his speech without eye contact. “Or what I might happen to be engaged in at the moment.”
I ignore his passive aggressive comment, though Fiona and Thrase exchange “oh no he did not” glances.
“I appreciate that very much.” I walk over to where he’s fiddling with the cryopod and clear my throat. “Sorry for being so blunt, Nicari, but where are the rest of the cryopods? There were many more than just four.”
“Indeed. I see that your species does not neglect basic mathematics in what passes for your educational system. The remaining active cryopods are stored in cargo bay seven.”
My mouth falls open, and I sputter before I can manage to speak.
“C-cargo bay seven? Are you kidding me? They’re people, not cargo.”
Nicari turns his gaze on me again, and he seems utterly nonplussed. Like we’re discussing the BBL scores off of Novaria and not living beings.
“Of course they are. But like everyone else on board, I am doing the best that I can. Cargo bay seven is a short walk from this lab. Protocol must give way toward practicality in situations like this one.”
“Right.” I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face. The last thing I want is another argument with a Kilgari. “I get that, okay? But just try to remember that these are living beings inside of these pods.”
“Of course. I will make every effort to ensure their safety while I awaken them. Now, excuse me.”
He turns away from me and punches keys on the cryopod’s panel, but Thrase steps forward, hissing through her teeth.
“What are you doing, you brass-colored primate?” She smacks his hand away from the console.
Nicari seems quite taken aback by her demeanor, and his golden eyes widen even as his lips grow thin and tight. When he speaks, his tone is clipped and icy.
“What I am doing is my job, human. Do you wish the occupants of the pods to awaken or not?”
“I do, but I want them to wake up and not have massive autoimmune disorders. You were about to shut off the MolSta system.”
My brow furrows in confusion, as does Nicari’s. “MolSta system?”
Thrase flashes her gaze over to me, pushing her glasses up with her finger. “Molecular stabilization system. MolSta, for short.” She turns her gaze on Nicari, and her face contorts into a grimace. “Shutting it off could have catastrophic effects on this poor woman’s body.”
Nicari smiles gently, as if he’s dealing with a foolish child.
“Ah, but the backup endocrine system will kick in and keep any damage to a bare minimum.”
Thrase’s eyes go wide behind her glasses. “Back—backup endocrine system? Are you out of your fucking mind? Humans don’t have backup endocrine systems, you dolt.”
“Oh. They don’t?” He turns toward the pod and scratches the base of one of his horns. “That does complicate things somewhat.”
Fiona chooses that moment to interject herself, stepping up to the cryopod’s keypad and punching them with rapid finger strokes. “Just as I thought. The good doctor here forgot to recalibrate the biorhythm scanner when he started working on getting the pod unlocked.”
I look to her and frown. “Is that bad?”
She laughs, but her eyes are icy and hard. “Only if you don’t want them to come out of stasis blind and deaf.”
Anger rises inside of me, boiling in my belly until hot words creep up the tip of my tongue. “I. Need. You. To. Be. Honest. Nicari.” I shake him to punctuate each word. “Have you ever treated a human before?”
“Well…” he straightens his coat a bit and struggles to regain some of his lost dignity. “To be honest, before we found your derelict ship, I’d never even seen a human before.”
“God.” I bang my head against the cryopod, not caring that it hurts. “This can’t be my life right now. This… this is a clusterfuck waiting to happen.” I take a deep breath. “I understand.”
How in the hell am I supposed to trust this guy to wake up the other passengers when he can’t seem to find his asshole in the dark with a flashlight?
Chapter Eighteen
Solair
I’ve squinted at and re-read the same line on my data pad four times before I finally accept that it might be time to retire for the day. With a sudden influx of one hundred and seven new passengers, it seems like my problems, not to mention my headaches, keep multiplying.
I’m no good to anyone if I don’t get some rest. My father used to tell me that the primary objective for the ship’s captain is to take care of himself first. While this might sound cruel or selfish, in reality it’s just practical. I can’t be the one making final decisions if my brain is addled from too little sleep. Well, I suppose I can still be the decider, but I won’t be doing a very good job.
My quarters are close to the bridge but it’s an unspoken rule on the Ancestral Queen that my men don’t come up that stairwell unless it’s the direst of emergencies. And even then, only after they’ve exhausted each and every other possible method of contacting me.
A little bit of solace and solitude isn’t too much to ask as the captain—at least I don’t think so. I slip out of my garments and stretch out upon my down-stuffed mattress, eschewing my blankets for the time being. Normally I like to keep the temperature on the cool side, but the Frontier women complained about it being cold, so we’ve made an adjustment.
It seems like I’ve been making a lot of adjustments of late, and to be honest it really rankles. But for the next sleep cycle, I can just close my eyes and enjoy a much-deserved respite from all of my aggravations, problems, and concerns.
My busy mind tries to keep me awake but gradually loses ground before the inexorable march of weariness. Just when I’m about to drift off into the comforting darkness of a hopefully dreamless slumber, the door chime sounds.
It takes me a moment to realize what the sound is. No one’s dared to use it in so many years, I’d forgotten what it sounded like. But I sigh and rise from my bed, blinking away the vestiges of attempted slumber.
The chime sounds again and when I snap out a response, my voice is thick with sleep. “I’m coming, dammit.”
I start to open the door, but then I recall this is no longer an exclusively male ship. Sighing, I turn back and slip on a pair of trousers just in case a woman is standing outside. And not only do I strongly suspect that it is, in fact, a woman standing in the corridor, but I also have a good idea of the female’s identity.
My finger hovers over the entry button for a time while I try to decide if I really want to talk to Varia or not. If she’s calling on me in my quarters, I doubt it’s because of a happy circumstance, but on the other hand there are no alarm klaxons sounding and the ship doesn’t appear to be under attack.
Maybe I could just wait her out and hope she leaves? No. Not this stubborn, fiery creature. In fact, I’m surprised she hasn’t rung the chime again—
It sounds once more, as if heralded by my thoughts, and I open the door at last.
As soon as it hisses out of her path, Varia just barges right in without looking directly at me. “It’s about goddamn time. Do you have any idea of what’s happening down in your medical bay…” Her eyes snap over to me and take in my shirtless form. Varia’s gaze widens, and she takes a reflexive step back. “—and you’re half-naked.”
“I was about to retire for the evening.” I rub my eyes and gesture toward one of the two magnetically-adhered padded chairs in my quarters. “But please, have a seat and tell me what has you concerned this time.”
“This time? That’s a passive aggressive way to put it.” Is it just me, or does her gaze keep dipping down to my chest? With what seems a concerted effort, she forces herself to look me in the eyes. “Your so-called doctor was about to either murder one of the Frontier women or render them blind and deaf when Thrase and I stopped him.”
“What—wait a moment, are you referring to Nic
ari’s attempts to awaken your fellow Frontier passengers from cryostasis?” I shake my head and rub the wrinkled flesh beneath the base of my horns. “Is that what’s causing you this concern?”
Varia rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “What else would I be referring to? Your doctor doesn’t know jack or shit about human physiology.” She laughs without mirth—a sharp and cynical sound. “He told me that before you found us floating in space, he’d never even seen a human before. Thanks to him, we nearly lost another girl.”
I’m so tired. The last thing I want is another fight, even if she’s begging me for one. Rubbing my hand over my eyes, I sit down in the seat across from the empty one I offered to her.
“I can appreciate your concerns, Varia. Really, I can. Nicari is something of an eccentric, even for one of his ilk. He really is quite a skilled doctor, however, and I’m sure that with your woman—Thrase, was it?—assisting him, the two of them will figure out how to safely awaken your fellow passengers.”
I gesture again at the empty seat. Varia heaves an exasperated sigh and settles herself onto it. I shift a bit because our knees touch slightly, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“It would be nice if they could be in possession of all their faculties when they thawed out, too.” She crosses her arms over her chest and fixes me with a stern glare. Even when she’s angry she manages to be attractive, and again I feel the swell of certainty in my soul that this is meant to be my mate, all appearances to the contrary aside.
“Please try to have a little faith in both Nicari and Thrase. Will you? This is an unusual situation for us all and we’re all just doing the best we can.”
Varia uncrosses her arms and sinks wearily into the chair. The anger drains somewhat from her face, and I’m a bit troubled by the dark circles lurking beneath her normally bright eyes.
“I know. I know…” she makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I don’t mean to come across as such a bitch, you know.”
I rest my chin on my palm and nod sagely.