by Autumn Dawn
The process was rather boring for her. She’d never had any interest in flying or space flight, regarding both as about as glamorous as a prolonged bus ride. Sure, the pilot had something to do, but the rest of them had to fend for themselves.
For the first time, she was rather glad of the boredom. Tedium was calming. She could use a little tranquilizing ennui.
Chores were also calming. Thankfully, she’d already decided to try her hand in the kitchen. At least they’d laid in a store of fresh fruit and vegetables to experiment with.
She’d never cooked much, but she’d spent a lot of time in the kitchens and helped out from time to time. Besides, she could follow instructions as well as anyone else, and there were plenty of cookbooks and instructional videos on line. With that in mind, she headed to the galley to see what she could do about lunch. Just thinking about it helped her relax.
The Guok was easy. He had plastic pouches of food that he would help himself to. Azor had said that Guoka did not like to deviate from their set diet, and she had no intention of forcing him to try her cooking. Azor, she had no qualms about feeding.
He entered the kitchen a short while later and sniffed appreciatively. “Smells good. I didn’t know you could cook.”
She slid a plate in front of him. “You still don’t. Tell me if it’s edible.”
He picked up the sandwich and had a bite. He grinned. “No worries—you can.”
“What a relief. We might have had to live on the frozen meals you laid in, otherwise.” She had nothing against the occasional frozen meal, but if she had to subsist on them, she might swear off food entirely. She’d had too many years of dining out of her own garden to settle for instant unless she had to.
Azor shrugged. “After a while, it’s just easier. Most people stop caring.”
She grimaced. “Then count me out of long voyages. I think I’d rather sleep the whole way.”
He smirked. “Can’t, unless you really do want the deep freeze option. It’s best to wake up and feed up after a few weeks of semi-suspension. We’ll also have to exercise to keep in shape. Hyperspace encourages bone loss, and artificial gravity is no substitute for walking around on a real planet.” He tilted his glass at her in mock reproof. “No slacking like you did on the first leg of the journey.”
She frowned. “I exercised.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “Good to know, but we’ll work together on it this time. You’ll learn to like the weight machines.”
She wasn’t convinced of that, but it wasn’t worth an argument. Instead she studied his face and asked something she’d been wondering for a while now. “You’re a shape shifter. If you wanted to, you could erase the scar on your cheek and heal your ear. Since you haven’t, I assume you like them as they are.” He was a good-looking guy. Most people with his looks liked to play them up, not allow the scratches and dings of life to show.
His chewing slowed, then resumed its usual pace. He took a swallow of tea. “I could, and I do, when I’m assuming an alias. When it’s my choice, I prefer it as it is.”
She waited. When he said nothing else, she asked, “So it means something to you. Is it a warrior thing? I admit I don’t know everything about your culture. M’acht was always trying to pretend he wasn’t Kiuyian.”
Azor looked at her keenly, but didn’t chase that rabbit. “You could say it is a Kiuyian status symbol. In the old days, warriors would not heal scars they earned in battle. I started keeping mine when I was a teenager.”
“And the earring? Does it mean anything, or is it just jewelry?”
He smile was self-mocking. “It draws attention to my ear.”
She calculated the odds, and said with narrowed eyes, “It’s a diamond.”
His smile widened. “You’re learning.”
She felt a wave of satisfaction. She was learning who he was. “How did you get it?”
“Why the curiosity? Don’t you like my looks?” he asked innocently, but the gleam in his eye belied the mild tone.
“You know you’re a good looking guy,” she said frankly. “In an austere, chilly kind of way. I’m surprised you aren’t more arrogant because of it, but I suppose your warrior beliefs explain it.” She wasn’t inclined to make any seduction he had in mind easy. Words were a good a way to hold him off while she made up her mind about him.
He smiled lazily. “My warrior beliefs tell me that my scars make me look better.” He looked at her dead on, absolutely confident. “You don’t think I’m chilly.”
“Anymore,” she stressed. “I certainly thought you slept in a deep freeze before.” She rubbed the underside of her chin absently. “I imagined you laid out on an iceberg once or twice.” Before he could make a comeback, she added, “But you were telling me about your ear.”
“Nice try, but you’ll have to work on your interrogation technique. I think you’ve had your share of personal questions today,” he said, clearing away his plate. “I have a few things to do, but I’d be happy to teach you how to fly later, if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “You know I’m not into spacecraft, thanks. And you’re awfully evasive for a guy who claims to be courting me.”
Unconcerned, he gave her a quelling look. “You’ve had more out of me than any woman I ever dated. Besides, someone has to rein you in. Feeding your curiosity is like feeding a black hole—you’re never filled. These answers will keep.”
“I’m not a black hole,” she said indignantly.
He sent her a calculating look. “I’ll lay good odds you’re spending your free time investigating some pet curiosity. You’re like Blue’s twins, always wondering about something.”
“I’m not that bad.”
He ticked items off on his fingers. “You learned to ride a speed bike out of curiosity. You’ve taken several different classes on wine making, perfuming, lapidary, precision metal cutting—“
“I like to know how things work,” she interrupted. He made her curiosity sound insatiable, but she’d just been testing things she might rather do than run a brewery. Sometimes she got twitchy like that, bored with her job. It was one of the reasons she experimented with the sodas. She never had found something she liked doing better, so she attributed her restlessness to something else. “How do you know my schedule so well, anyway?”
“Blue talks. Your family is as nosey about your life as you are about theirs. It’s a disease with you people.”
“You shouldn’t want to join the madness, then,” she retorted. “You’ll be up for discussion next.”
He grinned. “You notice I’m happily traveling light years away from them with you.”
“There’s Xera.”
He shrugged. “I’ll survive. I’m sure I could find a job, something to keep me away from whatever chatter sessions you two might have. I’ll pop back in just often enough to keep you in line.” He grinned to show he was teasing.
She rolled her eyes and wrapped up the rest of her sandwich for later. “Best go find one now. I’ve got things to do. I’m studying Scorpio, and I have a few messages to compose. I thought I’d study up and see if any of these planets we’re zooming past has anything worth checking out.”
He raised a brow. “We’re on a schedule.”
“I don’t plan to play tourist on just any rock,” she assured him. “I know it takes a burst of fuel every time we have to jump to hyperdrive. There might be one or two things of interest, though. Hopefully they’ll be near places we have to refuel, anyway.”
He looked thoughtful. Kiuyians liked to explore, too. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
She shrugged and began to wipe the counter. “I’ll let you know if I find it.”
She scanned her email, looking for anything of interest. Live communication was impossible in hyperspace, but they could still receive pinbeam. She wondered how Azor would react to her investigation. She wasn’t sure how he’d take the news, but she rather thought he’d be reserved in his judgment. He was good like t
hat. Whether he’d agree to help her if she asked was another question. She thought he might be stuffy about anything that smacked of danger. He’d probably want to keep her holed up on the ship while he did anything that might be hazardous. Not that it would stop her.
She smiled to herself. Guys like him were so predictable.
She’d been investigating the events surrounding Xera’s initial introduction to the Scorpio. She’d wanted to hear the tale told by someone who was an eyewitness, someone from the GE’s side. It seemed like a logical way to investigate Ryven’s character, to perhaps gain a perspective on her visions.
She’d gotten a copy of the ship’s roster for Xera’s old GE ship and exchanged emails with a few of the crew. Posing as a reporter, she’d told them she wanted information on the Scorpio, that she was doing a piece on what the aliens were really like. The reports had been eye opening, and disturbing. Not that she believed everything they said, but there was enough overlapping testimony to paint them as brutal, heartless warriors.
She had to wonder what Xera’s life with them was really like. Was it darker than she’d painted it?
The descriptions she’d had of Xera’s character bothered her, and she discounted some of it. She’d heard a little of Xera’s side of the story, though she doubted she’d had the whole. There were things she probably couldn’t say at the time, and things she wouldn’t. Xera wouldn’t have wanted to worry them.
Brandy could understand that, but she wanted to know if Xera was truly happy now. What would she be willing to reveal in person? If she were unhappy, what could Brandy really do about it?
The questions bothered her, though she knew that Xera trusted in her own safety if she were willing to invite her family to come visit. Perhaps safety was a relative term, though. After all, Xera was traveling to meet her in a warship. That said something about the state of the times.
She sighed. She didn’t believe in going into a situation—business or personal—without doing her research, but she hadn’t learned anything reassuring from her messages, so she turned to studying the language program and videos Xera had sent. They had quite a bit of information on the Scorpio culture and social structure. She particularly thought the custom of letting a superior speak first was an annoying one. She didn’t consider anyone to be her superior. She was tempted to try ignoring Xera’s husband completely when they first met. It would certainly force him to speak first. It might also be seen as rude, but she wasn’t very happy with him for forcing her sister to remain with him. No doubt he deserved a cold shoulder.
The idea cheered her. He was in the doghouse with her, and he should have to work to win acceptance from Xera’s family. She shouldn’t be the only one who’d have to work to fit in, and she knew Xera had done quite a bit of adapting to fit into Ryven’s world.
She said as much to Azor when she met him in the weight room for their workout.
He studied her warily. “You’re not planning on causing trouble, are you? Xera won’t appreciate it if you cause a rift between her and her husband.” He looked tempted to turn around on the spot.
“I just think he should qualify before I give him my approval,” Brandy said as she sat at a weight machine. “After all, we don’t know the man; not really.”
“He’s Xera’s husband,” he said, as if that said everything.
She frowned, unhappy to discover this rather barbaric attitude. “He kept her as a warprize, Bn’Ji. Am I supposed to be thankful he married her, too? She wasn’t given a choice in what happened after the Scorpio ship rescued them from that accursed planet.”
Xera’s ship had gone down, along with the Scorpio ship they’d been battling. They’d had a truce for a short time, but once they’d reached shelter there’d been a scuffle, which the Scorpio had won. It had been a Scorpio warship that reached the planet first, and the human crew was taken prisoner. Xera had happened to catch the Scorpio commander’s eye and had received more leniency than her comrades. He’d married her shortly afterwards.
Azor adjusted the settings on the weight machine. “It’s a common practice among many cultures to procure captive brides. In Xera’s case, it seems to have turned out well. She’s an ambassador, isn’t she? He built an expensive communications array just so she could talk to her family. That says something about his esteem for her.”
“It was just sex,” she muttered, undeterred. “Apparently he liked it enough to throw her a bone.”
He sent her a quelling look. “No man does all that just for sex. Not even a very wealthy one.”
She knew she looked mulish—she certainly felt that way. “I’m not going to assume everything is okay. Not until I’ve talked to her, and done a little research. I want both sides of the story. There’s a reason the GE went to war with them.” She’d thought rather kindly of the GE for that. They didn’t win back her sister in the skirmish, but it had been a nice thought that they’d extracted a little revenge for it.
She’d been very angry at the time, convinced that Ryven was evil personified. She might not always agree with Xera, but she was her sister, and no one had the right to detain her against her will. She’d tried not to dwell on the horrible things that might be happening to her, but she knew that Gem had also lost sleep over it. The subsequent war between the GE and the Scorpio hadn’t helped. The Galactic Explorers had actually lost their license over the episode, and Xera had been one of the witnesses against them.
That didn’t mean she was actually against them, though. It wasn’t something they could discuss over pinbeam.
She did know that she was tired of hearing the GE’s spin on the story. She wanted to hear Xera’s truth from her own mouth, without nosey people listening in. It gave her a mission, and made leaving Polaris bearable.
“There’s probably a law against interfering in a marriage,” he said thoughtfully. “If there’s not, they should have the foresight of adopting one in your honor. Keep in mind that I’m not interested in battling an entire ship full of Scorpio without a very compelling reason.” More gently, he added, “I don’t think Xera is in the position to run away from whatever problems she may have.”
“This from a man who offered his ship so I could leave Polaris,” she said tightly.
“Fish and fowl, Red. Don’t borrow trouble.”
She wasn’t inclined to talk to him after that. Maybe he really didn’t think Xera was in any difficulty, but at least he could have been supportive. She was smart enough to acknowledge his point—it would be nearly impossible to get Xera away if she didn’t like things as they were. It didn’t mean they couldn’t try.
Since she didn’t care for his attitude, she didn’t tell Azor when she got a message from an Ensign Trevor. He wasn’t inclined to speak to reporters, thank you, since they had a tendency to skew the facts. It made her very curious to see what he had to say. Most of the others had been only too happy to spill their stories.
She toyed with the keyboard, then typed another message. “Would you be willing to speak to Xera’s family? She has a sister traveling near your area soon. She is very eager to know the truth about what happened to her sister.” She sent it off. Whatever he sent back, it promised to be interesting.
She checked the star charts and winced. The retired ensign was currently living inconveniently far from their current destination. If he insisted on meeting her face to face, it would set them back about a week. That was a lot when they had a starship traveling to meet them. That was a lot of people to inconvenience. She’d have to hope he wasn’t the stubborn sort.
Azor gave her a break the first few days, treating her with courtesy and giving her space. If she’d thought—or hoped—he might leap on her the moment they left orbit, she was disappointed. She found his self-discipline annoying and a little disconcerting. Did he still want her?
Not that she could ask him directly without seeming forward, she told herself. Unfortunately, that argument didn’t hold water. She’d grown used to his aggressive pursuit on Ictharus II, and
she wasn’t the kind of woman who restrained her curiosity for long. She finally gave up wondering and decided to ask him point blank what he was up to.
On a ship that size, it wasn’t hard to find him. He was in the galley/rec room, absorbed in some kind of calculus strategy game. She made a face at the equations dancing across the screen. “Ugh! Math games for fun? What are you, some kind of masochist? Surely that falls under the heading of inflicting self-harm.”
Azor looked up from his seat in front of the entertainment screen, his eyes rather glazed. He had to blink a few times before he actually focused on her. “What’s that?” he asked politely.
She sighed, noting the perfect condition of the galley, too, though she could smell recent cooking. Not only did he enjoy math—a black mark in itself—Azor was too neat. If he weren’t so good looking, he’d be a nerd. Maybe that explained something about how he conducted his romance. She frowned at him. “I have some complaints about your alleged pursuit of me.”
He set down the controller, all ears.
She crossed her arms. “It’s not very methodical.”
He raised a brow, incredulous. “Methodical?” he echoed.
“Consistent, at least,” she allowed. “I was expecting to have to work harder at resisting your charms.” She said it dryly, so he’d have no doubt that she was being ironic.
“Ah. I get no points for allowing you to settle in?” he asked with a faint smile. “I was going to work up to the rest.”
She frowned. “I’m a woman who enjoys routine, though I do see your point. You were becoming uncomfortably intense. I suppose a break was in order.”
He threw back his head and laughed, then got to his feet. “And now it’s over. Good to know,” he said as he stalked her.
She raised a hand. “Don’t get too crazy! I’m not convinced you can live with the consequences of having me.”
