Nova

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by Lora E. Rasmussen


  “My Da, Bedwyr Serros.” Avara intoned, voice husky as she spoke. The two continued their ritual with another downed and immediately refilled shot glass.

  “Mi Tia, Cassia Perez.” Marcus saluted, remembering the woman who had raised both himself and his siblings after his mother had passed away, just after he’d reached his fifth birthday.

  “My Brother, Tristan Serros.”

  “Mi Hermano, Thomas Perez.”

  “My Gran’da, Avek Serros.”

  Marcus again refilled their glasses as Avara, who’d had a much larger family than he, ended with, “My Gran, Francis Serros.”

  Moving to the second candle, Marcus proclaimed “Today, we honor friends lost.”

  Her eyes glittering in the candle–light with unshed tears like a storm–rocked night–sea, Avara saluted “Nai Fen.”

  Swallowing, Marcus could see the face of their childhood friend in their younger years: all dimples and bounding energy. Fen had carried that enthusiasm and verve on through adulthood, had applied her questioning mind to everything she encountered.

  Until the day she died in fire and ash.

  “Nai Fen.” He agreed, feeling his own grief welling further. After a minute, Perez offered “Louise Hunter.”

  Before swallowing her next drink, Avara repeated the name of the woman, girl, really, who’d been Marcus’s first love. “To Louise.”

  “Jamíe Stern.”

  “Max Ming.”

  “Hasyia Tesh”

  “Bronwyn Cariad”

  The list of their early friends, neighbors, teachers, and acquaintances continued for several minutes, each recitation conjuring memories and pictures until, along with the first decanter of brandy, the names swept past childhood to others exclusively associated with the second attack. Those the two friends had served with during the Strike.

  “Sergeant Zachery Blake.” Marcus set forth.

  “Lieutenant Theodore An’haad.”

  “Major Kodja.”

  “Ensign Veronica Miles…”

  On and on, Marcus and Avara listed those lost, each individual punctuated by another drink until, PV or no, he could feel his entire body quivering with alcohol and memory.

  Finally, Avara lifted her glass once more and declared “Durexium and steel, yes, yet home she was, and victorious in the end! To the MS Sollus!”

  Seeing in his mind the white and blue battle cruiser that he’d served aboard for barely three years before, under Avara’s direction, she was rammed sure as a spear straight into the hull of the Human pirate Gosa VanDorn’s cinder–wreathed Tomahawk, Marcus exclaimed “Victorious in the end! To the Sollus! And a fine Lady she was!”

  “To the Navy!” Avara half–shouted.

  “The Navy!”

  Second decanter drained and the third off to a good start, Avara and Marcus lit the final candle and proclaimed together in a roar “Today we honor Kylos!”

  From that point forward, Perez found that things were definitely beginning to turn fuzzy. The two spent hours talking about friends lost and adventures shared, laughing, shouting, tearing up and at some point during the night, singing rather loudly. Somehow, it didn’t seem to matter at all that though his Captain was on–key (as befitting her musical pursuits), he, as she gleefully pointed out, was not.

  Finally, the topic had turned to a particular occasion spent in a bar on the Braxien world of Herkish. “I’m telling you, they were related!” Avara was asserting, laughter rippling in her voice as she slammed her open palm on the table’s surface with enough force to rattle the piece.

  “No! They were just friends.” Marcus protested. “The tall one, En…”

  “Enzia, you ass.” Serros finished for him, grinning.

  “Yeah, yeah; I know! Anyway, Enzia said she and Farkah were clan–mates.”

  “Marcus, for the Mymren, that means family.” Avara stated, exasperation clear as she drained yet another glass.

  “Here, gimme that.” Marcus ordered, snatching her glass and refilling it before she could, golden–liquid sloshing a bit over the rim. “Farkah said they were rooming together while away from their homeworld to study at Sadja University.”

  “And when was this, exactly?” Serros asked, her crooked grin in full appearance and eyes dancing.

  “Well, that first night when we, uh, spent time together.”

  “We?”

  “Farkah and me.” Perez clarified, taking a deep swallow. “She said she and Enzia were clan–mates.” Marcus added.

  “And Enzia? What did she tell you?”

  “Same thing, um, the next morning… after Farkah left the apartment.”

  Hearing Avara’s barely retrained laughter, Marcus hastily supplemented “Enzia said that they were Url–Tann Nahas.”

  Whatever was holding Avara back before completely disintegrated as a fit of core–shaking laughter flooded forth. Her eyes were actually tearing up with mirth.

  “What?”

  “Marcus! Url translates to ‘clan,’ but ‘Tann’ means sibling and ‘Nahas’ is a family name.” Practically wheezing, she added, “They were sisters! The two ladies had a bet going about the Human, and you, my brother, were it!”

  “Oh.” Marcus uttered a moment later, comprehension hitting him like the back of a rifle–stock.

  “Yeah, I’ll say!” She responded with a snort.

  He couldn’t help himself; a second later, Perez declared, “Well, it wasn’t at the same time, and damn! Red never looked so good…”

  Still laughing, she refilled their glasses and after they had once more taken a shot and prepped for the next, she remarked, “I’ll have to take your word for it, buddy. Here’s to the girl that finally catches your heart!”

  Laughing in return, Marcus commented “Hey, at least I’m open, unlike some people I could name.”

  “Whaddaya mean by that?” Avara demanded, punctuating her query by slamming her empty tumbler.

  “I mean, at least I date.”

  “Hey, I date too!” She protested, moving her glass so he could pour yet another.

  “No, I would say you used to date; now you just ‘captain,’ Captain.” Marcus drawled, his tone light but eyes serious as he regarded his best friend.

  “I could list the inaccuracies of your claim, but I’m far too much of a Lady.” She shot back.

  Chuckling, Marcus shook his head. “Shit, Avara. No one’s saying you’ve taken a vow of celibacy or something. What I am saying is that casual, one–time hook–ups when on leave is not actually dating.”

  “So says the eternal bachelor.” Avara fired, irony more than evident in her voice.

  “Hey, when the right woman comes along, I promise you, mi hermana, our honeymoon will be booked as soon as she’ll have me.”

  “Hmm. We’ll see.”

  “You know it.” Marcus said with perfect equanimity.

  “Okay, I know it.”

  Perez was pleased to see his friend’s natural character still disallowed her to be dishonest, even drunk and in the face of his ribbing.

  “So what’s your point?” She finally responded to the expectant look he was shooting her. “Maybe I’m waiting for the right woman, too.”

  “My point is that I think you’ve already met the right woman, you jus’ have to figure it out and move forward.”

  “What?”

  “What indeed! Care to share with the rest of the class?” He prodded knowingly.

  Steadily regarding him for a moment, she finally sighed and somewhat sheepishly answered, “Well… Diana did just kiss me two days ago, right before we received our mission. We haven’t spoken about it yet.”

  Carefully suppressing an internal whoop of delight at his friend’s expression and Pirotécnica finally taking action, he simply prompted “And?”

  “And… I dunno know. I never knew she felt that way about me, Marcus, and so I never really thought about it before.”

  “Like I said, you’ve been way too busy being ‘Captain’ all the time.”<
br />
  Nodding in acquiescence, she replied “Yes, well… perhaps you’re right. Ever since Jehara…Well, you know.”

  “Avara,” He started as gently as he could, leaning towards Serros, willing her to accept his words. “Cindrex was six years ago now; time to move on.”

  “Mm. You ever get tired of being right?” She joked, playfully thwacking his arm.

  “Not really; do you?” He laughed.

  “Only sometimes.”

  “So?” He pushed a second time.

  Raking her hands through her short hair, Avara responded “So, I just don’t know. I certainly love Diana a lot as a person and a friend, and I am attracted to her. I mean, she’s damn sexy after all, but…”

  “It’s more complicated than that?” Marcus suggested after the two finished off another shot and Avara’s comment continued to hover in the air.

  “Exactly. I also… have feelings for someone else.” She finally admitted.

  Considering, Marcus could tell his friend the Quorum Shield was having a hard time with her very uncharacteristic difficulty in reaching some form of resolution. Avara never was comfortable when she couldn’t see the path before her.

  “Well, my friend,” Marcus said, gripping her forearm and offering a reassuring grin. “Here is my advice: be honest, with yourself and both Diana and K’llan, and it will all work out just fine.”

  Chuckling a bit, she complained, “Guess I didn’t even have to tell you, huh?”

  “Nope, not really.” He affirmed, sounding more than a little smug even to his own ears. “Come on. Let’s drink to finding the right woman.” Marcus proposed, lifting his tumbler.

  “And to incomparable friendship!” She added enthusiastically, shot–glass slamming against his own.

  “To incomparable, life–long friendship!” He wholeheartedly agreed.

  *

  They were singing again. And swaying.

  Yep, definitely lots of swaying involved. Nope, not the ship at all. Swaying is happening.

  Somehow, her inner reflection seemed uproariously funny, and so Avara decided to share the observation with Marcus. As expected, he definitely picked up on the hilarity and so the two had to pause for a moment as they half–gasped with laughter mid–chorus. Spasms of amusement under control, they decided to continue their somewhat wayward course through Deck 3’s halls. It seemed an unusually long journey this night.

  As they happily resumed their walking while belting the verses to an old naval ditty about ports and lost love at full lung capacity with a certain sense of conscious abandon, Serros realized that at this moment, she and Perez probably more closely resembled second–year cadets than the senior–most officers of the Excalibur. Her dark royal blue naval jacket was entirely unclipped and thus, open at the front, revealing the fitted and light–weight, full–sleeved black shirt worn under officer’s dress. Definitely not up to on–duty regs.

  Marcus was even worse. He’d somehow lost his jacket altogether, probably left behind on Deck 8 in the Lounge, and his dress–shirt was half open and un–tucked. Completing the picture of jovial disarray, she carried the last decanter of brandy in her left hand, which the two off them kept passing back and forth to one another as they traveled. Given their appearance and activities, it was probably for the best that it was about three–thirty in the morning.

  “Hey!” He exclaimed mid–step, once more ceasing his own personal approximation of singing. “We’re heading the wrong way!”

  “No, we’re not. Your quarters are just down the aft corridor.” Avara answered, bemused.

  “Exactly; we should be heading port to your cabin.”

  “No, we shouldn’t be. I’m walking you to your cabin to make sure you get there safely.” She replied, not seeing the problem. Of course, things were just a bit fuzzy right now.

  “Avara, I’m supposed to be dropping you off at your quarters!”

  “And how’s that?”

  “Because, I’m a gentleman and… ladies first, and all that!” He announced with an expansive gesture to the corridor’s walls, a grin splayed across his caramel colored face.

  “Tosh! What century are you from, anyway?” She scoffed. Warming to the debate, Avara added “Besides, as an Arca II, you have a much lower tolerance than I. And,” she added, now really feeling inspired, “you’re younger and I’m older; I should escort you.”

  “Pfftss. By two–years. That doesn’t have anything to do with anything. And forget the Arca–argument.” He rejoined. “I’m EXO. That means it’s my job to ensure your safety, Captain.”

  “I think I have a solution.”

  As one, Avara and Marcus both whipped their heads around at the amused voice.

  “How about I escort both of you to your individual quarters. As third in command and an Arca II, as well as most importantly being entirely sober at the moment, I’m pretty sure I qualify.”

  Though A was, technically, younger than both of them, Avara recognized inspiration when offered. “Brilliant, Adeline!”

  Mulling it over for a moment, Marcus suddenly smiled. “Yeah, a sound strategy. In fact,” he started, an almost boyishly mischievous look on his face, “Now that you mention it, I think I should return to my cabin first.”

  “Okay then, let’s go.”

  The three of them set off for and reached Perez’s quarters in fairly short order, Diana proving to be a true master at corridor navigation.

  Stopping before his open door and with Diana standing off to the side, Marcus met Avara’s eyes and avowed “Next year, mi hermana.”

  Clasping him in a tight embrace that he returned with enough force to audibly crack her back, she agreed. “Next year, brother.”

  Clearing his throat, Perez snatched the mostly empty brandy decanter she still carried and remarked with an exaggerated wink, “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

  With a final nod, Avara and Adeline turned to make their way to the Captain’s Cabin. Serros noted that the pace was a bit faster with the Ops and Intel Officer than with Marcus, but since there was still some swaying involved, at least on her part, she found it rather natural to sling her arm around Diana’s shoulders, even as Adeline wrapped her own arm around Serros’s waist.

  It was a position that did not end even after the two had entered Avara’s Quarters, the doors shushing behind them.

  “How are you feeling?” Diana’s eyes were earth–toned pools of affection as they regarded Avara, amusement playing about her lips.

  “Pretty damn good.” Avara answered with a slow grin, quite aware that Adeline had yet to release the small of her back. Normally priding herself on her observational abilities, it was only now that Serros recognized that Diana wasn’t actually wearing her uniform, but instead, off–duty casual clothes. A light gray, form hugging tank–top and loose yet semi–fitted dark gray pants.

  Laughing despite her apparent attempt at self–restraint, Diana returned, “Oh, really? Shall I get you some water?”

  “Nah, I’m golden.” Avara enthusiastically assured her.

  “Mm.” Adeline murmured noncommittally, “I think I’ll get some anyway.”

  “If you like.” Serros could still feel the residuum of heat on her back where Adeline’s palm had been. With a shrug, Avara stripped off her too–hot jacket and flung it casually across one of her chairs set on the other side of her low coffee table before the couch.

  Adeline moved to Serros’s retractable sink and, after punching a command into the control panel and grabbing a glass from the inset plate–ware cabinet, returned carrying a full glass. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” Avara responded, draining the cup’s entire contents. “I’m fine though, really; you don’t have to worry.”

  “Are you?” Diana asked, a skeptical half–shrug conveying her opinion on the matter.

  “Yes, I am.” Avara reassured, and it was true. She could already feel the physical effects of the alcohol slowly draining away. All that was left was a rather pleasant tingling and an
receding headache.

  Apparently seeing something on her face that was at least semi–convincing, the Lieutenant Commander remarked “Good. Who says I am worried, anyway?”

  Placing the empty glass on her table, Avara answered simply. “You. I can feel it.”

  “Arca.”

  “Arca.” Avara repeated in agreement. Adeline’s amused yet mild concern, already slipping away like the contents of Serros’s water–glass, wasn’t the only thing she was sensing from the woman who stood just inches away.

  Grasping the Captain’s fingers in her own and voice smoky, Diana murmured “Avara, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to pressure you, so instead, I’ll just ask: where do we stand?”

  There were no more well preserved emotional or cognitive barriers now. Avara could read the full force of Diana Adeline’s feelings, including concern, determination to see this moment through, and barely restrained desire that pulsed from her body like a rocketing starship.

  Squeezing Adeline’s hands, Avara answered “Diana, I hadn’t known, before, how you felt about me. In truth, I was rather surprised.”

  “Ha! Some Arca with a Synergy Enhancement you are.” A retorted, laughing just a bit, though the high emotion she exuded remained undimmed. With a faint smirk, Adeline added “I would think you’d be used to reading attraction by now.”

  Not even pretending to misunderstand Diana’s meaning as to the amount of attention she typically received while off–ship, Serros shrugged in response. “Yes, well, not necessarily, and especially not from the very people you’re closest to. Can be kind of rude to deliberately scan and I must say, you’ve been very good at shielding.”

  “Well, you’re not the only SP in town.” She teased.

  “Mm; apparently.”

  “And?”

  “So I was surprised, though not unpleasantly. I… I do have feelings for you, and frankly, they are not strictly platonic.” The upsurge in emotion that Serros felt from Adeline in that moment was almost enough to make her lose her footing.

  “But because I do care, I don’t want to hurt you. So, I need you to know that I… have feelings for another.”

 

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