Krystal
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Krystal bolted from the ship, racing past techs and automated hover transports. A horn bleeped at her as she ran in front of a hover transport laden with gear, the automatic braking causing a stack of packages to fall to the hangar floor.
“Sorry!” she shouted, tears streaming down her face as she turned and ran.
It wasn’t something she talked about much. Not anymore. But Krystal’s fear had solid roots. When Laila had gone to Space Force as a cadet, Krystal had been a child. One evening, her parents had left her with her grandmother while they had gone on a rare evening out. The roads had been wet. A storm had arrived quickly and there had been flash flooding, washing their car from the road and drowning them.
Krystal had dreamed for years that she was stuck in a car, upside down in a river, with no way to get free. She had thought she was mostly over it, but being in space had such a similar feeling for her that the old panic had returned.
She raced through a doorway and into a hall, not caring where she went but knowing she had to get away. She spun. Which way? Where?
And then suddenly his warm arms wrapped around her, and he lifted her from her feet.
“Easy.” T’arq’s voice rumbled in his chest, and she clung to him like he was a life preserver and she was in fear of drowning.
“Oh god!” she gasped.
“Breathe with me, all right?” His voice was familiar and calming and she focused on his chest, moving up and down, slowly gaining control of her breath.
In and out. Slow and long. One breath. Two breaths. Three. Another.
Her eyes drooped, and she sagged against him. No more fight left in her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his tear-soaked flight suit.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“Your words, Krystal,” he said with a not-unkind chuckle.
“Yes, I trust you,” she said, and relief flooded her as she realized it was true. She trusted this man with her life. Why? She would think about that later.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter, yes?”
She nodded, and he swung her up into his arms. She buried her face into his chest and looped her arms around his neck.
What had she done? She’d kissed him. She’d actually kissed him. And then he’d shown her the amazing controls, and she’d lost herself in the stealth ship technology. Oh, it was glorious. Everything a nerd would want. And she’d blown it by panicking. So stupid.
A wave of exhaustion pushed through her and she settled deeper into his arms, his chest rumbling with satisfaction.
The rhythm of his steps had almost lulled her into a doze when she heard a door open with the familiar whoosh, and T’arq lowered her gently to her feet. She opened her eyes to find they were in a narrow room. On one wall there were floor to ceiling cupboards with clear fronts displaying a range of supplies. She took a step closer to see everything from field rations to medical supplies and even a selection of weapons. She pulled on the handle of one cupboard that appeared to hold bottles of energy drink; the door beeping at her.
“Access code required,” the automated voice scolded her.
“Swipe the chip in your wrist over it. We code each of the doors with an access level, but those are open to everyone.” T’arq demonstrated, swiping his hand over a cupboard higher up, which beeped, and a light flashed green before the door sprung open. He reached into the small locker and retrieved a package before shutting the door.
Krystal swiped her own wrist over the cupboard door in front of her, and felt strangely pleased when it flashed green and beeped. The door opened and a blast of cold air reached her, as if she had opened a refrigerator. She reached inside and took a bottle with a pale blue liquid.
“That has a bit of a fruity taste,” T’arq said, sitting on a bench that ran the length of the opposite wall. He sprawled out with his legs stretched in front of him and his hands folded behind his head. “I’m not sure if it’s to the human palate, but try it.” He nodded in reassurance.
“What is this place?” Krystal asked, sitting down next to him, keeping a little distance between them on the bench. She brushed her fingers over the padded bench, the fabric feeling like some kind of micro suede, so soft.
“It’s a resupply room. If you get off a shuttle and need to get back out again but don’t have time to put in a requisition from the main store, then you can get most of what you need here.”
“Oh. Why not use the replicators?”
“Takes too much energy, and too much time. It’s much easier and more efficient to have a steady supply on hand. We can replicate anything unusual on request.” He pointed to the small replicator unit at the end of the room.
