“I may not be a pilot, but I’m not stupid,” Bianca snapped.
Harbin raised his eyebrow. “I do not believe that was implied.”
She was rather attractive when she was frustrated. He had heard other humanoids mention stronger arousal when their female was angry. This must be a similar sensation. While Bianca was not his mate, he certainly felt the Craving’s influence when she was around.
She glared at him through the communicator display. She opened her mouth to speak when the connection died for those first few minutes upon entering orbit.
He accelerated harder, hitting the atmosphere just behind her.
She was a little red ball of fire for a few seconds as the pod entered Sol-1. He closed in on her position, hitting that same dead zone upon breaking atmosphere.
When he cleared it, his fighter kicked back hard. The tractor beam engaged and snagged her pod.
“Oh no!” she cried out. “I don’t know—nothing’s responding!”
“That is me,” he said. “I have control and will help you land.”
She crossed her arms. “Well, fine then.”
He raised his eyebrow again. “Are you angry with me?” He piloted their ships to a landing zone that would accommodate both of them comfortably.
One that was as close to shelter as possible.
“I am angry in general. You are where that anger is being focused.”
He nodded. “So, it is not me. It is you.” He scanned the ground locations and found a spot, but it was not at the expected parameters.
“You know, there seems to be a lot about Terran language that you do not understand.”
“You speak Standard. What else is there to know?” He scanned for more Rhimodians in the area.
“You truly do not grasp the nuances of it.”
“I see,” he said as he started the landing cycle.
A thunk filled the comm between them for a second.
“Oh!” she said, shifting in her chair. “Oh. I’m on the ground.”
He nodded. “You are landed, yes.” He touched down and configured the wings to wrap around her ship and his for dual protection.
Something wasn’t right on Sol-1. He was not sure what it was, but he could feel it. An instinct that he’d only listened to a few times in his existence because protocol overruled instincts.
Today, however, he decided it was best he trusted his instincts.
“Great, I can get out of—”
“Do not get out of the pod.”
“What? Why?”
“Do not get out of the pod. The ambient temperature is too cold. Do not get out of the pod.”
“What? It’s ice?”
“What else did you think the white was?”
“Uh…” She didn’t say anything else.
