I get in line with the Amphirans and make my way inside the vibrant ship layered with rows upon rows of plants. They’re all in various stages in each compartment I enter, from seedlings to blooming to producing fruits and vegetables.
Last time I helped, I did not board the ship. It is a magnificent feat of engineering. Red fruits drip from the ceiling. Pollination bars zing like little golden bugs through the flowering corridors.
We pass a cold room with hundreds of thousands of little drawers stacked in columns, each bearing words I can’t decipher and a picture of a different plant.
The line shortens, and I get a glimpse of Brynna’s dark hair and her white suit of armor. A tickle of hope flutters through my Inferno. It’s oddly interested.
Every step closer to her makes me forget more of my trouble outside her ship. I forget about the war, the ache in my tired body, and the threat of the empire in the distant stars.
The male Amphiran behind me gets called back to help with a larger crate, so I am the last to arrive to carry anything off the ship for now. When my turn comes, I stop where the male before me had and watch the most beautiful female I’ve ever laid eyes on command a hoverdrone via her tablet. It lowers a crate from an orifice in the upper deck.
She turns and smiles at me with eyes like the name of her ship, dark but warm. However, her joy quickly fades, as it commonly does when a human meets one of my kind. “Oh, you must be Jorusk.”
My voice suddenly doesn’t want to work. An urge to growl rises in me, not out of anger but out of lust. My Inferno stirs with interest, and I can’t help but steal a glimpse at her curvy body on my way to hang my head and bow gently, a Drathious custom when trying to foster trust. “Yes,ma’am. I have assisted once before, though we did not meet then.”
“I remember, though I admit, it’s not easy to tell the difference between you all when you have your masks on.”
A sudden sense of quietude fills me. My spark arrestor beeps once.
The drone hums beside her, waiting. Brynna studies my wings. Her eyes dance over the breadth of my shoulders with curiosity.
Afraid of overstaying my welcome, I ask, “Would you like that one unloaded?”
She steps back and nods. “Please. It’s the last one. I’m sure you’re eager to get these to your new ship, the uh…Pyralite, I think, is what Jovie called it. There are instructions with each crate. Read them carefully.”
When I take it, it is far lighter than I expected. “What is this one?”
Brynna speaks quickly, like she’s nervous. “Seeds, in case your seedlings struggle. You’ll be able to start another batch and hopefully get it right the next time.” She grimaces. “Notrightas in, you might mess it up. It’s just a bit tedious. It’s easy to overwater and get root rot.”
“We have learned a lot since last time.” I thank her and know I should leave, but I don’t want to. “Are you staying a while? It would be helpful to have you watching over our shoulders.”
“I…” She looks away. “I can’t. I’m actually leaving this line of work.”
Dread sinks my stomach. My Inferno doesn’t like it either. “Why? What you do changes lives.”
She drums a finger on her tablet. “Can’t find steady and reliable help. I have to trust them with my life and all the life on this vessel.”
Brynna looks around at her ship. “I’m tired of fending off greedy Denarso and Novarks and evading Nebs. I am responsible for thiswholeship, from the hull panels and defense systems to the engines and the evergreens. I can’t manage it alone anymore.”
I would help you. I would stay.I’d do anything just to see her smile again. It’s the prettiest thing I can remember. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Fieri and the Amphirans are coordinating a replacement crew. I’ve already briefed them and left instructions for all of the systems. It’s still my ship, I’m just transitioning away from operating it.”
She’s leaving, and I can’t help but feel like something is wrong.
“Where will you go?”
Brynna laughs shyly with the sweetest tones. I do everything I can to memorize her face, knowing it is likely the last time I will see her.
The light brown skin on her face darkens with a blush. “I’ve signed up for the Alien Bride Race. I’m literally taking my shuttle there as soon as we’re done.”
The race…the one Allele wants me to go to?
“When does your heat start?” I blurt.
Her eyebrows lift, and her plush mauve lips part.
“Race heat,” I specify, even though I’m already more curious about her personal heat. My Inferno wants me to reach out and touch her, release my mask, and take in her scent, and it’s a struggle to tamp it down. We’re basically strangers, and yet I can’t help but crave a touch.
