by SF Edwards
Blazer ran a series of simulated plots as examples and asked her to do one. She set to it and he nodded his approval, but pointed out that it could have been better. “Sometimes when you’re plotting for a big ship or even something small without a lot of reaction mass, like a fighter, you really want to make sure that you get the most delta-v for your fuel expenditure.”
Marda stared into his eyes as he spoke. He had wonderfully piercing blue eyes. They were so intense, full of kindness and passion. It made it hard to look away. The orbs had already told her so much about him that he was hardly a mystery to her anymore.
The orbs didn’t spend much time with him now and never told him anything about her. Even if they could, the vague impressions he would feel were nothing like the messages they imparted to her. She rested her hand on that strong thigh again when she looked back at the screen.
“I see what you’re saying and I get it,” she explained and watched the optimized route he calculated scroll across the screen. “It’s a little hard to put into practice in a fighter though.”
Blazer nodded. “Yeah. That’s why it’s pretty automated on single-seat fighters. You just program your destination and it does all the crunch work. Still, if you’re good, you can plot something better. And when you’re in combat it’s a whole different bowl of soup. It’s all about the delta-v. You burn a lot of fuel with all the maneuvering, especially when you’re lining up a shot. Those thrusters are Sheol on fuel at full power. It’s way too daunting to plot a real course since you have to keep an eye on the fuel levels. That’s hard enough by itself!”
I’ve seen that enough in the sims. Discussing navigation was just an excuse to stay near him. I hope he realizes that. She wanted him to do more and move past his properness that infused all of these study sessions. Come on Blazer, I’m not easy. Don’t force me to make the first move.
She went to move her hand again but decided not to. She left it lingering on his thigh when she felt his hand come down from the screen and encircle hers. Is this it? she wondered. Then his hand came to rest on the small of her back. She took a slow breath as gravity eased his hand down to her belt line. She twitched just a hair when his pinky finger dipped below her belt by mistake; tickling the sensitive spot she had there.
“Is something wrong?” he asked softly.
She shook her head no and squeezed his thigh. That motion made his pinky graze those fine hairs under her belt again and sent a pleasant shiver up her spine that energized her.
“I really like these study sessions and spending time with you,” he commented in a husky voice.
She turned and met his eyes. “So do I,” she replied with nervousness present in her voice. They were both dancing around the truth now and the feelings they both felt.
Blazer slid in a little closer to her as he pulled his hand up and placed it on her hip opposite him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What’s that?” she asked drawing away coyly. She had to play a little hard to get no matter how much she wanted him.
“I, uh,” he looked up at the cap she had on her head and stammered, unable to continue. He bit at his lip and went on. “I like your cap.”
She reached up and took a self-conscious tug on her cap. Her once long-flowing locks had turned into a patterned trimmed buzz cut. “Thanks,” she said, trying to hide the tension in her voice.
“I’ve noticed a lot more first annura cadets wearing caps now,” he replied, unsure how to proceed.
She nodded. “Yeah, well…” She knew what he wanted and it wasn’t what she had hoped for. She pulled the cap off revealing the grid pattern shaved into her buzzed hair. “I guess that’s the price we pay for flying.”
Then she looked up at his buzzed scalp. She couldn’t see the pattern cut into his hair but lifting her hand she ran her fingers through what was left of it and couldn’t help but feel his leg shiver in response. “Three stripes?” she asked feeling the pattern in his hair.
Blazer nodded, his eyes lidded as if feeling a touch of ecstasy.
“That’s a pretty simple pattern,” she went on running her hand back and forth, reveling in how excited each movement made him.
“Regulations call for the buzz, tradition the pattern,” he stammered back as she massaged his scalp. “We didn’t want to leave Bichard out so we adopted the three stripe pattern on his head.”
Marda nodded. Her team chose a grid pattern instead. The elaborate pattern took great skill and patience to get the lines straight. One or two on Marda’s head were crooked as a result. It didn’t matter to her, only someone much taller than her would be able to see them. “What about, what’s his name? The bald Lycan, Zithe?” she asked pulling her hand away.
Blazer smirked. “We held him down and glued pieces of our hair to his head. It was hilarious. He even tried to wash it off but Seri had us use molecular glue. It’s not coming off until after the first round of flight training. He’ll end up tearing up skin if he tries to pluck it.”
“I saw the wig that Bichard made for Chris earlier. It’s nice.”
“Yeah. She was really proud of her long hair. It’s a Chamalad thing. Bichard did the shave too and she really seems to like how it accentuates her red stripe. Then there was the ‘accident.’”
Marda’s face scrunched up, wondering what he meant.
“He angled in the side strips a bit so that from the right angle it looks like an arrow. Bichard claimed it was an accident, but I know better. He loves her hair almost as much as she does.”
“But that wig is amazing. It almost looks like she didn’t get shorn at all! It made me jealous. Then when someone made a comment that she washed out she took it off and exclaimed, ‘I am Blade Force and my Bichard did this for me.’ It was cute. Is there something going on between the two of them?”
Blazer shook his head. “No way. They’ve just gotten to be really close friends, that’s it. But she did cry when he made her that wig. I was beginning to think she couldn’t.”
Marda ran her fingers through the stripes on Blazer’s head again and watched his leg twitch and pop in excitement. “Do you like that?” she asked in a whisper. Blazer stammered out an unintelligible but pleased reply. “I’ll bet back home whenever you got your hair cut short you’d have all the girls rub it,” she commented with a smile.
Blazer gave her a wry smile. “Just the ones I liked,” he replied, raising his eyebrows playfully.
Marda stood up for a moment and leaned in close. She gently kissed him on the forehead before sitting back down. She locked eyes with him and felt a new intensity fill her. “Did any of them ever do that?”
“Just the ones I really liked.”
She continued to stare into his eyes, where she could get lost. Her chest heaved in excitement as she thought about what to do next when a question came to mind. “When’s your first flight?” she enquired as she leaned in close to his ear, whispering between heavy breaths.
“First thing next cycle,” he replied sliding his arms around her.
She pulled back with a jerk and looked up at the chrono on the wall. To her dismay it was later than she thought. “Shouldn’t you get to sleep early then?”
He looked up at the chrono as well. She saw his hearts sink at the sight of the time. “I suppose I should,” he replied, disappointment evident in his voice. First flight was not something anyone dared to play chances with. It could make or break a career and to go into it tired could kill you. “Unless there’s something else you want to study.”
She took a deep breath in response, watching his eyes as they broke from hers and drifted down to her chest. “How did your friend put it? Oh, yes, I remember. How’s your biology?”
He returned a sheepish smile and she noticed blood rushing to his cheeks and other parts as well. “Uh, yeah!” he stated with renewed vigor as he began to pull her close before reason took hold. He gently pushed her away shaking his head. “No, I, we can’t. I want to, but I just…”
> Marda leaned forward and ended his stammering with a peck on the cheek. “Maybe next time, Mister Vaughnt,” she commented as she stood up as smoothly as she could, brushing his face with her breasts. Smiling, she headed towards the door and left him sitting there, watching her.
“When’s your first flight?” he called back to her a moment later.
“Next cycle. Right after yours I’d hazard.”
Blazer got up and walked across the room towards the door where she waited for him. He took her hand, his grip tender and brushed her cheek with the other. “Well, good luck then.”
Marda nodded back at him, wanting to wish him the same before he cut her off. “We should celebrate! Next cycle after classes, we should go out and celebrate our first flights. Just the two of us.”
“I’d like that very much. What did you have in mind?”
“I want to take you out on a real date away from the rooms. No books. No studying. Just you and me away from all the distractions, let me take you on a picnic in the woods or to Mendrick’s.”
Marda nodded. It was the step she wanted. Progression towards something real, something more and it wasn’t too fast. She smiled back at him, nodding, before he leaned in to kiss her. She was sure this would be no peck on the cheek or innocent friendly kiss. The tension in his body screamed at her that this would be a kiss filled with passion and feeling. As their lips prepared to meet, the door sprung open beside them.
Arion stood there impassive as ever. A wary look covered his face while he stared down at the pair like a disapproving father. Blazer stood bolt upright and took half a step back from Marda as if her father had just caught them together with a pulse rifle in his hands. “You two good?”
Blazer nodded. “Yeah and you’re timing pongs. What are you doing here?”
“It’s my room.” He held up his cylindrical macomm and continued. “Plus Seri stitched everyone’s macomm to head back to our rooms and get to bed early if we weren’t busy doing actual work. Next cycle is a big one after all.”
Marda felt him eye the pattern in her hair, certain that he noticed the two crooked lines.
She could hear Gavit and Deniv approaching from down the hall and saw the resignation on Blazer’s face as he heard them too. “Until next cycle,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“See you then,” she replied as she hopped in close to give him a peck on the cheek. She gave Arion a defiant eye before she leapt back out the door.
“I’ll take that as a yes then!” Blazer called after her as she passed Gavit and Deniv.
Deniv gave her a knowing smile while she bounded down the hall, a spring in her step. She slowed and waggled a finger at him. “He’s more of a gentleman than you, Mister Deniv.”
Gavit smiled and held out a hand to his friend. Deniv produced a thin strip of a fruit bar from his pocket and handed it over. The bet had obviously been lost.
When she reached the intersection with the next cross passage, she turned down it and saw Bichard heading towards her. Bichard walked with slow and deliberate care down the hall, each step a measured movement. He held his macomm out in front of him studying the holographic display with an intensity she’d never seen before. The full focus of those giant eyes was intent on the screen.
Marda felt a sudden pang of guilt at the odd scene. Did we kick him out from his own room from his studies? Has he been wandering the hall these past few hects unable to find a place to do to his work?
“Did you need the room to study?” she asked when she came within two arm’s lengths of the big Coretherian.
Bichard looked up startled, his antennae shooting bolt upright. Marda swore that they extended a few metra in surprise. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“You didn’t see me?” she asked, a note of disbelief and a whole chord of concern in her voice.
“I was concentrating,” he half stammered.
She reached out and gave his arm a gentle stroke, tickling the tiny sensory hairs on the chitinous armored exoskeleton. “What’s the matter, big bug?”
He looked around to make sure no one was listening before he replied. “I’m a little nervous!”
Marda pulled him aside and up against the wall to help deaden the sound. She was sure that he didn’t want anyone to here this. “Why? What’s wrong?”
He moved to break from her grip. “I need to get to my room.”
“No!” she ordered pushing him back against the wall. Surprise filled her, that with his strength he allowed her to do so and didn’t just bowl her over.
His antennae shook and his mandibles quaked together as he stood there, choosing his words. “I am a little nervous about first flight.”
“Why? Aren’t you doing OK in the sims?” She knew the answer. He has to be. Otherwise, he would have washed out. It’s got to be nerves.
He nodded his head. “Oh, yes. Very well.”
“Well you’ve flown before right? Is that the problem?”
“Oh, yes! I’ve flown before but never as a pilot; just as a passenger.”
She saw two orbs drifting down the passageway towards them. She recognized them in an instant as “Blazer’s” orbs. She waved them forward curious if Bichard could see them. Bichard shot a look over his shoulder in response to the slight gesture.
“What was that?” he asked, sure that someone was now listening in.
“I saw a couple of orbs. I told them to shoosh.” She breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t seen them. Having them there might help. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Bichard.”
“I know that,” he said slumping back. Marda marveled at how much he could compress that hard-shelled body of his. “I just don’t want to disappoint everyone. This is so important to all of us. To all of them.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.” The spirit beside her nodded, emanating feelings about how Bichard had done this before. “Are you afraid of flying?”
He shook his head far too vigorously. “No! No!”
The spirit to her right whispered in her ear,
“Bichard, you can trust me. Confide in me,” she pointed out.
“How can I? You’re not on my team. How do I know you won’t use what I say against me or them?”
“You’re Blazer’s friend and so am I. I would never betray you. Besides, I’m training as Squad Eleven, remember? I’m not Special Ops.”
He looked up and smiled that horrid smile of his. “I know. Blazer cares for you.”
“I know, but you’re his friend. You have been his friend for a long, long time. Are you afraid of flying?”
Bichard nodded. “But not in the way you are thinking. I like to fly. It is just that I am afraid that I will crash and that I will be the cause. I am not without skills. I can navigate well, manage systems with no problem, do great things in the cockpit, but it’s just that…” He looked away ashamed. “I worry that I will not be skilled enough.”
Marda tried to squeeze his shoulder in sympathy but the hard exoskeleton prevented her from doing so. She gave the sensory hairs a gentle pet instead. “There’s nothing to be scared of Bichard.”
The spirit on her left whispered something in her ear again.
“Your family flies transports right?”
He nodded. “Blazer told you that?”
“Friends told me.”
Bichard looked back up at her, the skin around his eyes constricted, as if trying to focus them on a single point. Then he bolted back to his full height, his antennae pointing straight up, almost touching the high ceiling. “Get out of here you two. I know you’re there. I thought I felt your tingle in the air.”
Marda looked away from those giant accusing eyes, ashamed as he towered over her. For a moment a primordial terror gripped her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
He glared down at her like a predator about to pounce. “No, you shouldn’t have.”
“They just wanted to help.”
“They always say that they want to help bu
t I don’t trust them.”
“Why?”
“Because they can’t answer my question.”
Marda turned back curious. “What? What question?”
“Am I like them?”
She felt her face scrunch up in confusion. “What do you mean are you like them? Of course not. You’re alive.”
“No,” he snapped back. He thumped his chest and tapped the space between his two large eyes. “Am I like you and them?”
“Do you have a soul?” He nodded. His antennae twitched as he pulled his height down to that of Blazer’s. She looked at him and squinted then placed her head against his chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his muscles tensed in surprise, ready to leap down the passageway.
“Listening.”
“To what?”
“To your heart. It will tell me if you have a soul.” He went limp against her and she pushed away before laying a hand on his shoulder and pushing him down. As he reached his knees she put an ear to where he tapped himself on the head. She felt the slick surface of his eyes on either side of his head when she stood there a moment listening, his breathing shallow yet intense. She pulled back a moment later and with a satisfied sigh locked eyes with him. “Yes, I do believe you have a soul.”
He looked at her; his eyes seemed to go even wider. He jumped back to his feet extending his height to over seven metra. His mandibles clacked together, an angry tone emanating from them; his antennae went straight and rigid. “Do not mock me!”
She stood her ground and placed a hand against his chest to calm him. “I’m a medium Bichard.”
“Yes, so you can see spirits.”
“No, I see their souls. I see the quantum aura of sentients. Your aura is there.”
“I know. I’ve been told that but auras are just life energy. They don’t mean you have a soul,” he replied and retracted his height again.
“They do when they have color as yours does.”
“What?”
