Frrar

by Layla Nash

  Frrar growled as a young Xaravian, perhaps an ensign, strode up with a small tablet and conferred with Faros. Then the captain gestured at a pair of doors to his left on the same corridor as the sick bay. “Hopefully these quarters will suffice.”

  Maisy started to smile and thank him, those ridiculous Earther manners taking over, but Frrar scowled and entered one of the rooms. “We’ll see.”

  He didn’t like leaving her in the corridor with his brother. He clenched his jaw and snapped his fingers at her, gesturing for her to follow, and the Earther’s face darkened, her eyes narrowing. He filed that expression away for later, so he could investigate what it meant.

  The quarters were small but clean and sufficient for the short amount of time they would be on the Sraibur. Frrar checked the vents and panels, made sure everything was in working order, then grunted and dragged Maisy to the next room while Faros stood in the corridor and gave orders to his crew.

  The second suite was slightly nicer than the first, with a better washroom. Some of the panels looked newly repaired, which was either a good sign that Faros at least kept his ship up-to-date or a bad sign that underlying problems were only addressed when something caught fire. He clenched his jaw and went back into the hall to retrieve her bag, tossing it onto the bunk. “You’ll stay here.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him, her cheeks slowly reddening. “Oh really. And what if I wanted the other room?”

  “Why would you? It’s smaller and not as nice.”

  “Maybe I have my own reasons.” Those beautiful eyes narrowed and she picked up her bag, trying to brush past him. “So I’ll take those quarters and you can stay here.”

  He caught her arm, irritation outweighing his surprise. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll stay here.”

  “No, I won’t.” She wrenched at her arm, almost injuring herself, and Frrar released her before she ended up flailing around like a haugmawt in a snare.

  Faros raised his eyebrows in the corridor. “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” Maisy said. She marched back to the first room, nearly running into the door when it failed to open fast enough, and she turned brighter red as she dragged her bag inside. “I’ll be staying here. If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I need to freshen up. Let me know when dinner is served.”

  The door slid shut and once more the Earther left Frrar and Faros stumped, frowning at the door together.

  “Most strange,” Faros muttered. Then he shook himself and scowled at Frrar. “You can find your way to engineering, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself.” Frrar took an aggressive posture, guarding Maisy’s door. “And stay away from the Earther.”

  “Why?” His brother ignored another crewmember who appeared, all of his attention on his brother. “You’ve got a claim on her?”

  Frrar didn’t blink. “Yes. She’s mine. Stay away from her.”

  “What kind of warrior lets his female join a pirate crew?” Faros’s lips curved in a cruel smile. “Or stay in separate quarters?”

  “We’re... negotiating.” Frrar couldn’t let his brother see a hint of weakness, otherwise Faros would exploit it and Frrar would spend the entire mission on the defensive. “Leave the Earther alone.”

  “We’ll see. Get to work, brother. Two of the five engines were damaged. We’ll need them all repaired as soon as possible in order to get this mission over with.” Faros didn’t wait for a response and instead strode after the messenger, attention on some other problem.

  Frrar stood in the corridor until his brother was out of sight and out of hearing, then turned his attention to Maisy’s door. He wanted to knock, to try and explain to her, but that look on her face... He didn’t need a checklist to know she was furious, though he couldn’t pinpoint what could have angered her. He shook his head and chalked it up to the strange Earther customs and expectations, then went to drop his bag in his quarters and change before he got to work in the engine room.

  Earthers were strange creatures, that much was for sure.

  Chapter 13

  Maisy

  Maisy wanted to shake Frrar when he just ordered her to take the second room and started telling her what to do. She fumed and unpacked her things as quickly as possible, wanting to throw a temper tantrum like a child. She didn’t know what his problem was, but she’d straighten him out before the mission was over.

  And when the fury over his treatment of her faded, she was left exhausted and feeling slightly at a loss for what to do. She’d never expected to find a child on the ship, particularly one with a mysterious illness that no one could cure. Or no one had offered to cure. She sat on the bunk and frowned at the blank walls. The implication that the Alliance wouldn’t cure the boy without a substantial payment from the Xaravians was abhorrent. But at least it meant there was a cure. And if the Alliance knew whatever afflicted the boy could be cured, then Maisy would find a way.

  But first she had to learn her way around the ship. The Sraibur was smaller than the Galaxos and definitely half the size of the Argo, the original Alliance ship she’d served on and been kidnapped from, so it wouldn’t take long to figure out the layout. Or so she hoped.

  It took three days of wandering around getting lost before she felt confident she could navigate to her room and the clinic from anywhere else on the ship, although there were a few corridors that were guarded and the Xaravians didn’t allow her down them. Since Frrar had muttered about his brother being a pirate, that didn’t surprise her at all. Maybe that was where they kept the treasure.

  She spent most of her time in the clinic, either treating various injuries of the crew or doing experiments to narrow down the range of possible diseases that might have caused Faryl’s illness. The little boy was still shy around her, and it certainly didn’t help that she didn’t really speak Xarav and he clearly didn’t know a lick of Earther. So she dusted off her pantomime skills and made it all into a game, being silly and dancing around and singing songs to keep him entertained.

  Maisy was in the middle of pretending to be an elephant, much to Faryl’s delight, when the doors whooshed open and someone said, “Have you eaten—” and she snapped upright, her face already reddening.

  Frrar stood there, a funny look on his face, and took another slow step into the sick bay. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  Maisy patted at her hair and made a face at Faryl, who kept giggling, and tried to gather her dignity around her. “We were just playing a little game. What can I help you with? Another shock?”

  “No,” he said, half his mouth curling up. “I’ve been told you forget to eat lunch, so I thought I would bring it to you.”

  “Oh.” Maisy flushed more, her head aching, and moved to clear off one of the beds to act as a table. “Is there enough for three?” And she tilted her head at Faryl, who peered up at his uncle with his eyebrows drawn together.

  “Of course.” Frrar set out dishes and plates, carefully divvying things up. When he went to hand a plate to Faryl, the little one retreated shyly to hide behind Maisy’s leg. She didn’t like seeing the hint of hurt that passed over Frrar’s face, but he smiled tightly and handed the plate to Maisy. “Guess you should help him instead?”

  She poked Faryl’s side to get a smile and moved him forward so he would take the plate directly from his uncle, and dragged an extra seat over so the little boy could sit next to her. “I think we’ll be okay. What have you been doing? I haven’t seen more than these walls in a while.”

  His head tilted as he looked at her, then turned his attention to his plate and the pile of meat covered in spicy red paste. “Trying to get the engineering team in shape. They’ve been unsupervised for quite some time.”

  Maisy couldn’t hold back a smile, since she remembered a few points where Frrar was the devil-may-care engineer experimenting on weapons and transporters—without supervision. “Oh really. How could you tell?”

  Frrar grumbled and leaned over to help cut up the meat on Faryl’s
plate. “Tools are all over the place, half of them don’t really know how to work with the engines, and—what?”

  “It’s just funny to hear you talk that way,” she said. “Especially when I remember you fussing with that crazy transporter and rigging up weapons when we went after Jess.”

  His dark eyebrows arched and his scales swirled with green and an odd touch of purple. “You have to know the rules before you break the rules.”

  She snorted and shook her head, making another face at Faryl as he chowed down and grinned with his mouth open. “I’m not sure Vaant would agree with that.”

  Frrar shrugged and stretched his legs out, then carefully took some of the meat off his plate and transferred it to her, even though Maisy already felt stuffed with the amount of food she’d put away. At least the pirates ate well. “It’s good for him. Keeps him alert. Besides, I’m comfortable in chaos. There’s order within chaos, you just have to recognize it.”

  She definitely didn’t think that was the case. When she saw chaos, she just saw a mess. She pondered the plate and why Frrar had sought her out. They really hadn’t talked or crossed paths since he got all bossy about who would sleep where, and though she’d heard him enter and leave his quarters, she’d avoided running into him as much as possible. And that wasn’t easy on such a small ship.

  He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his long, dark hair. “I should apologize. It does not come naturally to us to consider what another wants, and I should not have spoken to you the way I did. The only reason I insisted you should take my quarters was because they are safer, easily defended, and more comfortable.”

  Maisy blinked, too startled to otherwise react. She’d never heard the Xaravians apologize. Ever. For anything. It drove Isla crazy, since—according to her—Vaant was wrong a lot. She eyed him and wondered what motivated him to actually search her out and apologize. She figured he was just there to keep an eye on his brother and make sure that Maisy eventually made it back to the Galaxos—one of those territorial Xaravian things, or maybe because Isla and Griggs strong-armed him into promising to keep her safe.

  He waited for her response and Maisy floundered. She wasn’t prepared for that kind of conversation with Frrar—he was still too intimidating and capable. He’d literally saved their lives with his wacky gun as they raced for the ship out of a seedy spaceport, chased by Alliance agents who wanted all of them dead. He’d done a heck of a lot more in his life than she could even imagine. She cleared her throat and tried to smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Frrar nodded, content, and started putting more food on Faryl’s plate; Maisy wasn’t sure how much Frrar actually ate, since he seemed to be more interested in feeding both of them instead of himself. He glanced at her and then back down to the food, though she could see his mouth curl up at the sides. “How do you find your quarters?”

  “They’re terrible,” she said. “Cramped and uncomfortable. The bathroom was horrifying and apparently no one on this ship knows what proper cleaning supplies are.”

  His grin spread and made him look far less severe. A little bit more purple and green and blue worked its way into his scales, and she could hardly look away, mesmerized by the swirls. “We can certainly still trade—”

  “Not a chance,” she said. “I made my bed, I’m going to lie in it.”

  Frrar’s head quirked as he looked at her. “I’m unfamiliar with this idiom. I’ve made my bed as well; you’re welcome to lie there if you’d like. It’s more comfortable than yours, I’d wager.”

  “No, it’s not… That doesn’t mean I want—” Her whole face caught fire as she stared at him and tried to parse through how to explain. “It just means I made a choice and I have to live with it. It’s not really about…being in bed. At all.”

  Faryl giggled and reached up to pat her cheek, apparently entertained by the way her skin turned red, and Frrar managed to hold back a grin despite watching Maisy struggle. He nodded and watched his plate instead of her. “Ah. Of course. My mistake. But the offer stands.”

  Maisy stared at him. What the heck did that mean? He wanted her to sleep in his bed? Was he…flirting? Propositioning her? Did he expect her to sleep with him because he’d come on the mission?

  Before she could demand that he explain himself, the doors to the sick bay opened and Faros sauntered in. His eyebrows rose to see Frrar there with food, then the captain’s expression darkened. Faryl bounced to his feet and darted over to his father, and for a long moment, Maisy didn’t know what to say or do or even where to look. The tension between the brothers vibrated through the air until it weighed her down, and Frrar’s scales immediately went from a lovely blue-green to red and orange.

  At least with the Xaravians, you knew pretty quickly where you stood just based on what color they turned.

  Faros picked up his son but didn’t take his eyes off his brother. “I just stopped by to see how things are going, Doc.”

  Maisy, still a bit flustered from the conversation with Frrar, got to her feet and went to punch the screen on one of the advanced scanners. “I haven’t found anything useful, but we’ve been playing some games and testing his energy levels based on nutritional input and—”

  “Take a breath,” Faros said. Faryl wiggled free and bounded over to where Maisy stood, holding onto her uniform trousers as he craned his neck to see what she did. The captain folded his arms over his chest and completely ignored Frrar, who fumed just a few feet away. “Do you require any additional equipment or information?”

  Maisy picked Faryl up absently to show him the screen, but glanced back at the two Xaravians. “No, I think—”

  She froze; both men had turned an odd shade of amber-violet, which she’d never seen before. And they both watched her with an intensity that made her stomach flip. She cleared her throat a few times and managed to finish her sentence. “I think we’re doing the best we can. Nothing stands out that would make things easier. It’s just experimentation at this point.”

  Faros made a rusty sound in his throat and his eyes flashed. Before he could get any closer, though, Frrar threw his arm across his brother’s chest to hold him back. “A word with you, brother.”

  Maisy held her breath; that looked like the prelude to another brawl. She put her shoulders back and fixed them with a scowl. “No more fighting.”

  Frrar inclined his head to her. “I swear on my honor. No fighting.”

  “Of course,” Faros said, smooth as silk and just as slippery. He retreated a step at a time, even with Frrar, until they both backed out into the hall and the doors whooshed shut.

  Maisy exhaled and looked down at Faryl, who looked just as puzzled as she felt. “I hope you grow up to be more sensible than those two.”

  Faryl peered up at her, then did his best imitation of an elephant. So Maisy had to join in, and it wasn’t long until they were both laughing too hard to stand up.

  Chapter 14

  Frrar

  It didn’t surprise Frrar for a second when his brother showed up to spoil his time with Maisy. Faros had kept him so busy over the previous few days that Frrar hadn’t had a free moment to check on the Earther. Which was exactly how Faros wanted it, he suspected.

  Faros didn’t believe Frrar’s claim that Maisy belonged to him, not with the way she’d avoided him and wandered around alone and unprotected among the crew. And one glance at his brother’s scales when he saw Maisy holding the boy only confirmed it—Faros lusted after Maisy in more than the normal hot-blooded way. Faros saw her as a mother to his child, even more than he wanted her in his bed.

  Which made Frrar’s jaw clench until he feared for his teeth. “Stay away from her.”

  “I can’t help it if the Earther enjoys my company,” his brother said. “I would caution you to stay out of my way.”

  “Like I did seven years ago?” A hard, icy shell formed around Frrar’s heart, particularly with the image of the youngling who should have been his son remained so close in his mind. �
��And how did that turn out? Stay away from the Earther before you get her killed.”

  Faros’s teeth flashed in a snarl. “Shouldn’t you be down in engineering, running things?”

  “I’ll stand out here every moment if I have to.” The thought of his brother bothering Maisy, or—worse—trying to ensnare her drove him mad. He couldn’t allow it. Maisy deserved more—a mate with a real job, not a pirate, and a man with honor and strength and loyalty. He didn’t want anything to do with making a deal with his brother, but if it was the only way to keep Maisy safe from Faros’s dishonorable intentions... He steeled himself. “Stay away from her. She’s mine.”

  The pirate captain’s eyes narrowed. “You expect me to simply walk away from a female who already protects my youngling and comforts him? She doesn’t behave like she’s yours, brother. I haven’t seen my son so captivated in his entire life. How dare you ask me to give that up?”

  “She is already helping your son,” Frrar ground out. “And if she wishes to stay on this ship after we have completed the mission, then fine. But for now—for this—swear that you will not pursue her. It is the only way we will both survive this flight.”

  Faros watched him for a long time, clearly debating, and he finally growled in irritation. “Is it not enough that I’ve ordered every male on this ship to stay away from her on penalty of death?”

  “No,” Frrar said. “It’s not.”

  The captain snarled more, then froze as peals of laughter reached them both through the doors of the sick bay. He turned brilliant amber in a rush, and Frrar tensed in case his brother bolted through the doors to claim Maisy right at that moment. But Faros restrained himself for once and clenched his hands at his sides as the spikes rattled across his shoulders. “Can you not hear that, brother? She makes my youngling laugh.”