“Yes,” Erzo admitted. “I thought I had it all figured out. But now, I’m just lost. This mate thing is complicated.”
So, he reverted to his old habits—the flirty, aloof persona that kept people at a distance, just enough to be pleasant but not enough to make Polly want to stay.
“Aye, it is,” Olmed agreed.
They both remained silent, Erzo pondering his new mate and whether he’d made the right choice.
Olmed seemed lost in his own thoughts as well.
Finally, Olmed broke the silence between them. “What about Phares? Going back doesn’t seem wise.”
Erzo’s thoughts shifted to his friend. “Phares has his own battles. Who am I to dictate his choices?”
He couldn’t control Phares but understood his need to return, especially after encountering his parental, Shoval. That dynamic relationship was enough to exhaust Erzo, and Shoval wasn’t even related to him.
“True,” Olmed agreed.
“How’s everything inside?” Erzo nodded towards Olmed’s quarters.
“Tori’s asleep,” Olmed replied. “I wasn’t ready for rest.”
His lips curved into a half-smile. “How about some ale to wind down the night?”
Olmed’s expression turned into a wry grimace. “On any other night, I’d be the first to grab a mug, but tonight, it just doesn’t feel right.”
Erzo casually leaned against the wall, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Come on, we’re supposed to be enjoying our intergalactic vacation here.”
“This feels about as relaxing as a meteor shower,” Olmed retorted.
Erzo chuckled. “Who knows, even meteor showers can be a break with the right company.”
Olmed shook his head. “You really should take this more seriously, Erzo.”
“I am,” Erzo assured him, his voice light but his eyes betraying a deeper turmoil. “I’m playing my part perfectly—the happy-go-lucky Charro, always ready with a joke or a smile. It’s what they expect, right? Keep the genuine emotions buried. Because the only time a Charro gets emotional is when their credit stash gets low.”
Olmed leaned in, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “But do you feel it? The need, the connection?”
Erzo shook his head, his smile fading. “It’s not like flicking a switch, Olmed. Emotions for us are more complex.”
Olmed arched an eyebrow. “Maybe that’s the problem, Erzo. You’ve forgotten how to crave, to yearn for something beyond credits.”
“We crave plenty,” Erzo countered—a hint of defensiveness in his tone.
“Credits aren’t everything, my friend.”
Erzo shrugged, his gaze drifting. “Credits are reliable. They’re always there, no emotional baggage. Just doing their job, no strings attached.”
Olmed watched him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “But they don’t keep you warm at night, do they?”
Erzo let out a short laugh, the sound more bitter than amused. “No, they don’t. But they also don’t need you to protect them.”
Erzo’s attention snapped to the periphery as a shadow flickered at the entrance of their residence. Polly stood in the doorway, her gaze piercing through the semi-darkness with an intensity that struck him like a ship explosion.
For a moment, she seemed like a part of the space station’s decor. Then, with a blink that seemed to reboot her entire system, her lips parted in a silent ‘O’ of surprise, wobbling ever so slightly like she was experiencing a minor gravitational malfunction.
“Well, I guess you heard that,” Erzo said.
Without a word, she spun on her heel—a move so swift it would give a seasoned space dancer a run for their credits—and zipped back into their abode like a comet tailing off into the cosmos.
