The shift dragged on. Oh, he could have left early, it was his right as the Class Three, but he didn’t think the captain would be impressed with him ditching his regularly scheduled shift. So he tried for the hundredth time to follow a line of connector cables on the blueprint of the Bethany’s small cargo hold.
“You joining us for dinner?” Angie asked.
He glanced her way and shook his head. “Not tonight.”
“You can’t keep staying down here,” Sy said. “You’ll go crazy. Burn yourself out.”
“I’ll be fine.” Gin didn’t tell them he’d be sneaking to the captain’s quarters right after they left. He wasn’t sure how much he should be sharing. Plus, there was a chance, however slim, that Captain Lian’s invitation was completely innocent. Gin doubted it, but it was there.
When the next wave of workers descended the ladder, Gin was almost shaking with anticipation. He tinkered with the main console while Tesseen and Betha went to their stations and got settled. Betha’s main task today was calibrating the trajectory. Tesseen had to measure and double-check the fuel calculations. Nothing too serious.
Gin walked to Betha. “You guys gonna need my help?”
Betha didn’t even glance up from her screen. “Nope.”
Gin glanced at Tesseen, and they shook their scaly head. “We got it.”
“I’m going to take a break. Call me if you need anything.”
“Sure, Gin,” Tesseen said.
They’d be fine. Besides, Doc forbade him from spending every shift down here. There’d be times they—and Sy and Angie—would have to be alone. He couldn’t do everything around here. Besides, if it freed up more of his time to see Lian, maybe that was a good thing.
“You okay?” Tesseen asked, giving Gin a once-over with their slitted pupils.
He smiled. “Great. I’ll see you later.”
The ladder was empty, so Gin touched his hair band, then began his climb. His spark hadn’t shown itself since that first session with Lian, but the habit was hard to break.
Rather than risk running into someone who would ask questions, or distract him, Gin took the ladder all the way up to the captain’s floor. The Bethany’s diagram showed this particular shaft led directly to Captain Lian’s room. In fact, two of them opened in the captain’s quarters, but the other was in the minibridge.
At the top of the ladder, there was a latch, and a keypad. Someone with the right code could enter this way. Maybe, in time, the captain would share it with Gin. The thought made him dizzy.
Slipping his hand through the top rung, Gin hit the call badge on his wrist. “Captain.”
“Gin?” answered the voice.
“I’m outside your room, in the stairwell. Can you let me in?”
“In the…? Why didn’t you simply knock on my door?”
“Not my style.”
He was rewarded with a soft chuckle from the captain before he said, “I’ll be right there.”
Moments later, the hatch opened and Lian gazed down. “You didn’t need to sneak in here.”
“I didn’t?”
Lian moved out of the way, allowing Gin to climb out of the well.
“Of course not. I mean, I don’t want it to be broadcasted over the Bethany’s intercoms, but there’s no reason to hide.”
Gin smiled. “You don’t want what broadcasted?”
Lian closed the hatch with a loud clang. “That you and I are having dinner together. It’s not a crime.”
“Dinner? Is that all we’re going to be doing?”
The captain’s lips twitched. He was doing that a lot more over the past few days. “I’m sure you’ve heard that the previous mechanic was married to Candi. Regulation may frown on such things, but they still allow them to happen. This way.”
Married? Yes, he knew Malc and Candi had been. But why had Lian brought it up now? There was no way this visit was going to be platonic.
Gin glanced around the room, not surprised by its size. It was easily three times the size of the study they practiced in. Of course the captain’s quarters would be larger. But Gin had also expected them to be plush. Carpets instead of the metal floor, top-of-the-line furniture, paint or paintings on the wall. None of that was true. Gin should have known Lian wouldn’t want anything to take away from the simple beauty of the Bethany. To put a rug on the floor or paint on the walls would cover all that up. Even the furniture—the bed, a sofa, two armchairs, and a table big enough to seat six—looked basic. Nothing fancy or over the top.
“It’s nice,” Gin said, walking past the bed, on a slightly raised level, which separated the spaces. The table was off in the far corner, beside a houseplant. Each area was defined, making the room feel normal, as if it wasn’t at the top level of a spaceliner.
“Thanks. I don’t think it’s anything special, but it does have this.” He flipped a switch and a slit formed on the left wall, behind the bed. The slit widened, moving out to either side until it stretched nearly half the curve of the room.
Gin’s mouth dropped and he didn’t even try to close it. He rushed forward, throwing himself at the binder, gazing out into the darkness.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointed to a bright, reddish speck of light in the distance.
Lian walked beside him and touched the see-through wall. At his fingertips, a menu popped up, as if the whole binder were also a com station. He touched a few options, then a name popped up on the binder. It labeled the planet as 51 Pegasi d.
“It has the Federation names for objects,” Lian explained. “But if you touch them, it will tell you the local ones.”
Gin’s fingers trembled as he reached out and tapped the planet. A name flashed, written in an alphabet he couldn’t read. He clicked it again and it translated it into Federation Standard. “Renowa,” he said aloud.
“It’s a mining planet. The Dalmin inhabit it, but they don’t really claim it as theirs. Renowa means ruby in the Dalmin tongue. A type of dirt covers the surface, giving it the distinct color—similar to Mars, actually—but the rocky mines under the surface are black, due to the schorl tourmaline in the shafts.”
“How do you know so much about this random planet?”
“I’ve been studying the Dalmin for years, hoping I’d be able to attempt this peace treaty. But besides that, I enjoy learning about other cultures and species. Though I didn’t attend the academy on Earth, I did take courses in xenology and xenosociology. Of course, the hands-on experience increased my knowledge much more than books.”
Gin didn’t look away from the binder as he asked, “On the Olton, you served under the Order of Valor, right? How did you switch to the Order of Right?”
The captain laughed. “It’s hard to remember you haven’t been indoctrinated with all of KedFed’s propaganda, Gin. I sort of envy the fact you grew up so far removed from all this.”
“Why? I thought you loved your job, and the Federation.”
“Oh, I do. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the universe. But the bureaucracy of things can get tricky. As far as the Orders go, they’re more closely mingled than you think. Admiral Alejaro, the head of the Order of Right, only switched from Valor three years ago. She was one of Admiral Pierre’s top vice-admirals, so she was able to transfer into Right at the very top.”
“So, she has no experience as a diplomat?”
“I didn’t say that. That’s what I mean. Valor does just as much negotiating as Right. The distinction comes from how others perceive us. Right brings the ceremony and pomp. Many races expect that, if not demand it. But if needed, Valor can handle the same situations I’m usually assigned.” Lian placed a hand on Gin’s shoulder, then said, “Why don’t we eat? I’ll keep the binder open so you can still see.”
“Sure, Captain. I’m starved.” He followed Lian over to the table.
“When we’re alone in here, you can call me Lian.”
Gin gulped. Definitely not platonic. “Really?”
“If you want.”
“I do want, Lian.”
Lian’s lips curved upward. “I like the way you say it. You’ve got a bit of an accent. Federation Standard wasn’t your first language?”
“Mom taught us English. Dad insisted we speak only Federation Standard, but Mom didn’t listen to him. She said it was better to speak more languages, instead of just one.”
“I agree with that. Your mother was very wise.”
The captain gestured to the chair on the edge, which faced the binder, then took the seat opposite. The table already had two plates atop it, covered in a metal dome—like they served at fancy restaurants.
Gin sat, interested to see what sort of meal the captain ate. He took the dome off and set it to the side. Below, the plate held lasagna and a breadstick. This was the same thing Gin had yesterday.
“I hope you like lasagna,” Lian said. “It’s my favorite.”
“Yeah.” Gin picked up his fork and cut off a bite. “I’m surprised at how well the food processor prepares meals. I half expected it all to be bland.” He put the fork in his mouth. Only then did he get a good look at the captain’s face: his eyes were wide. Gin nearly spit out the food, wondering what he’d done wrong. Instead, he swallowed quickly, and set down his fork. “Sorry. I, uh, should have waited for you to take the first bite.”
Lian relaxed, and shook his head. “No need to be sorry. I forget not everyone is as religious as I am.”
“Oh, grace. Yeah, Temmy and I don’t do anything like that at home. But, you go ahead.”
The captain bowed his head, and Gin was surprised by the obvious reverence on his features. Amazing how his face could be so unreadable when he was in captain mode, and so expressive when he was just Lian.
“Pip,” Lian intoned. “We thank you for this food and for the safe travel through the wormhole. We ask your favor in the days to come. Amen.”
“Amen,” Gin repeated, feeling a little stupid. He’d never prayed in all his life. It seemed illogical to talk to yourself and expect miracles.
Lian smiled at Gin. “Thanks for indulging me.”
Gin raised his hands. “I’ve got no problem with other people being religious. It doesn’t work for me, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work for you.”
Lian tilted his head, the grin on his lips stretching wider, showing a hint of teeth. “You’re also wise, Gin.”
An embarrassing heat rushed to Gin’s cheeks. Not once had anyone applied that term to him. Temmy constantly berated him, put him down, told him he was a screwup. It was nice being complimented.
“You mentioned the other day that Doc stole the line about so many races being compatible as proof of Pip, or one of the other celestial gods. It’s not a Quifante belief?”
“Not really. Some Quifante are religious. Others aren’t. Doc… she’s a special case. She’s had some traumatic events in her life, so she steers away from religions because of those. But my mother, Annie, always believed. We had worship services on the Olton almost every day. It was the only time I could see her, usually, so I picked up the devotion almost by accident. I still feel that connection to Pip and her.”
Gin nodded. He could understand someone wanting to hold on to something bigger than themselves.
“You can eat now,” Lian said.
Gin picked his fork back up. Before taking another bite, though, he pointed at the cup of red liquid on the table. “What’s this?”
“Wine.”
“I thought it’d be some foreign drink, like that blue stuff Angie always has.”
“I only keep some on board for Trish. Her family owns a large vineyard near Fresno. It’s a little taste of home she needs to get her through these long missions.”
Lian had religion, Trish had wine, Orious had money, and Gin was finding peace in learning about his spark. How many others on the ship had something that kept them going? Despite nearly half being different species, they seemed to have this in common. “That’s nice of you, Lian. You two have been friends a long time, right?”
“Very long time. When I was promoted to Lieutenant on the Olton, she was brought aboard as an officer trainee. I’m not sure why, but we hit it off immediately.”
“It’s because she’s the opposite of you,” Gin said around a mouthful of lasagna. He swallowed. “She’s your balance.”
Lian grimaced. “I suppose you’re right, though I’m a little upset that it shows so clearly. She needs to stop undermining me in public.” He shook his head. “Regardless, when they transferred me to the Farseer, an Order of Right vessel, I asked to have Trish transferred with me. In my opinion, the crew is more important than the ship.” He glanced at the walls of the Bethany, as if in apology. “The crew makes it run, and if the crew is properly selected, all the wheels and cogs fit perfectly. I’ve worked very hard to assemble this functional crew.”
“There’s no fighting? No drama?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of that. With so many different species aboard, with so many personalities, there’s always going to be some conflicts. But this crew does have the foresight to realize that, and we act accordingly. We talk out our issues.”
“You’re right,” Gin said, amazed. “I never thought about it until right now. Everyone acts like an adult.”
Lian laughed. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Temmy and I never even managed that.”
“But you have the capabilities for it. You’ve fit inside the machine quite nicely.”
“Thanks.”
The captain sat down his fork and regarded Gin over the table. It was hard for Gin to stay still under the scrutiny, Lian’s gaze was so intense.
“Gin, would you mind if I kissed you?”
“Not at all,” he replied as nonchalantly as he could. He didn’t want Lian to notice how fast his heart beat.
Lian leaned forward, and Gin did the same. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly. Gin shut his eyes, relishing the heat Lian offered. It was over quickly, a curious taste, then pulling back. Gin knew his eyes were bright, his cheeks red. It was unreal to see Lian in the same state.
“Why me?” Gin asked. “You could have anyone aboard this ship.”
With a snort, the captain said, “That’s a gross exaggeration. It’s like you said about religion. Just because you’re infatuated with me doesn’t mean others are.”
Before Gin could try to deny the accusation, Lian continued in the same matter-of-fact tone. “And I’m infatuated with you because you’re unique. You look at things differently. I can’t stop thinking about how you’ll react to any given situation. You’ve hardly left my mind since you came aboard.”
“Me too,” Gin admitted.
This whole situation was surreal. Getting onto the Bethany had seemed like such a farfetched dream. Then, Lian’s forgiveness of Gin’s deception was unexpected. The captain, green eyes blazing, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling at a fast pace, that was impossible.
Gin leaned forward again, and the captain mimicked his move. They kissed, longer, deeper. The warmth of Lian’s touch stirred Gin’s heart. He was so far from home, so far from all the things he’d grown up with. He didn’t realize how nice another presence could be, how it could ease the loneliness. And when Lian’s hand reached out and gripped Gin’s chin, a shudder ran through his body.
“Too fast?” Lian asked, his lips an inch from Gin’s.
“No. For you?”
“No.” Lian’s hand brushed Gin’s cheek and traveled over to his hair and gripped one of the tails. His fingers splayed and sank into the strands. “Your hair is amazing. Do you mind that I touch it?”
Gin shook his head. “It feels good.”
Lian pulled on the hair, twirling it around his fingers, then brought it to his lips. “Will you think me too forward if I ask you to join me on the bed?”
“Not at all. I figured you’d be a take charge kind of guy.”
The captain chuckled. He pulled back, letting Gin’s hair fall from his
fingers. “If that’s what you’re expecting, I can deliver.”
“Then tell me what you expect of me so I can do the opposite.”
This time, Lian’s laugh was full and throaty. “I just want you to be you, Gin.” He stood and reached out his hand; Gin took it.
A warmth filled Gin, unlike anything he’d experienced before. Lian saw Gin as Gin. And appreciated him for who and what he was. Lovers in the past hadn’t been interested in knowing the inner workings of his mind. Even the few relationships he’d attempted never penetrated to a deeper level. Because of those simple words, Gin fell in love with Lian in that instant.
They walked toward the bed, Gin unable to pry his gaze away from the captain’s. He knew he looked a fool, too eager, but he couldn’t change how his heart felt. He wanted Lian in every way possible.
Sure enough, at the edge of the bed, Lian gave a gentle push, and Gin fell onto his back. Lian advanced, placing his knees to either side of Gin’s, his hands beside Gin’s shoulders. He was over Gin, but not touching anywhere.
Again, Gin trembled. Lian’s eyes—which had once looked so dead—sparkled with depth. There was a swirl of color in them now, the normal greens, but hints of blues and violets, and hues Gin didn’t have names for. It was like a mood ring, changing with Lian’s emotions.
Unable to wait for Lian to make the first move, Gin lifted his face. His lips met Lian’s, frantic now. Luckily, the captain responded with the same interest.
It amazed Gin how much he craved touch. As Lian lowered himself atop Gin, any place their bodies met blazed like a solar flare. He wondered what it would be like once clothing no longer separated them. He needed to find out.
While Lian’s mouth worked against his, their tongues mingling tentatively, Gin wiggled his fingers between them to get at the buttons of Lian’s jacket. Lian lifted his body slightly, giving Gin easier access. It took some time, with his attention diverted between his task and the amazing way Lian kissed.
Finally, Gin unfastened the last button, then divested Lian of the clothing. Next, he pulled at the hem of Lian’s undershirt. They had to break their lips momentarily, but with the garment removed, Lian lowered himself atop Gin again. They entangled their limbs, Gin seeking the near-searing flesh of Lian’s back. He ran hotter than anyone else Gin had been with. Maybe that was part of his Quifante nature.
Spark in the Stars Page 13
