To her surprise, Zen accepted her words with ease. “It’s okay, Torian. We’re not a violent species, but… just based on our physiology, we’re often pushed into that role.” Zen unfurled hiswings for emphasis. The wingspan was impressive, but he tucked them back against himself with fluid ease, waving a clawed hand. “We were sent to protect the nylarians, generations ago, and we accomplished it through intimidation. Now, most of the draics who stayed in this solar system are mercenaries. It doesn’t help our reputation.”
Torian thought back to Amelia’s scar, the Fleet’s horror stories about draics, and shook her head. “Yeah, I guess not.”
Zen sighed. “If it makes you feel better,someof us just want to eat good food and take magma baths.”
Magma baths. Torian balked. “That sounds… fatal.”
“Maybe for humans. For us, it’s a calming retreat.” Zen bared his sharp teeth, his version of a grin. “My crew is military, although we’ve had a leave of absence for decades now. It may have softened me a bit.”
Then he and Dutch started dating when Zen was on active military duty. Torian suddenly wondered whatthatstory was—how they actually met.
“That’s a long leave of absence.” She raised an eyebrow. Militaries were an ancient relic for humans—the closest they got these days were a protective task force on Rhymarra, and frankly, the smuggling rings: the Fleet, the Luminas, and a few others. There were security forces on the colony space stations, and that was about it. Nothing organized. Not anymore.
Zen shrugged, unconcerned by the implications of so much time off. “Well, my crew single-handedly quelled the conflict between the wellecks and the ulareans. The Empress decided we’d earned our leave.”
Torian stared at Zen, adjusting what she knew—that he was a captain of a draic vessel and partner to the last nylarian—with this new information: that he wasalsoapparently special ops, high-ranking military, and casually ended interspecies wars.
And he liked magma baths.
“Shit. Glad you’re on our side, then.”
“Mmm. I like you, but I love Dutch. When he asked for ourhelp with Vaesa, I couldn’t say no.” Zen cast a fond look at the sleeping nylarian. Affection tinged his rough voice, and it was absurdly cute.
Torian smiled, stretching. The magic of the evening was fading under heavier exhaustion. It might be time to actually get some sleep. She drained her water. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Anyway, I’m heading to bed. I told Voranthir, but I’ll tell you too: That ship we’re waiting for is my old smuggling ship. The captain is a… a friend.” She paused, grimacing. “Friend” felt so surface-level—but she certainly wouldn’t be explaining what theywereto Zen. “Can you let me know when they get here?”
Zen raised an eyebrow ridge. “Your old… smuggling… ship.”
“We all have our pasts, Captain.” Torian chuckled.
He waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll let you know. But if they try to steal anything, I can’t promise my crew won’t intervene.”
“If they try to steal something, you won’t have to. Amelia would never tolerate it.” Now Torian’s voice was fond, which just felt stupid.
If Zen noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead, he inclined his head and remained at the balcony, clearly enjoying the quiet night air.
Celise was staying, Amelia was on her way, and Torian was friends now with several wonderful aliens in a space station she might actually call home. Torian stepped down the stairs, picked a bedroom, and dropped onto the bed, feeling beautifully content.
Amidst the quiet chirping of nylarian insects and the gentle rustle of the kerrac tree’s leaves, she drifted to sleep.
IDENTITY: Mechanical Operations and Support Systems
→SUB-IDENTITY: Moss
TIME/DATE: 11:02/Januous 16, Year 90113 [System U2Ab Universal]
LOCATION: Vaesa [nylarian]
The morning after we docked on Vaesa, Dutch said, “Okay, I know you said it was irrelevant, but I justhadto build you a mobile unit. Isn’t it cute?”
For perspective, this conversation was taking place inside theDestitute. Celise had relocated to her clinic in Vaesa, but Torian had returned to scan for Amelia’s crew. [They were not in range; I would have been able to connect to my moss colony there if they were.] Dutch had intervened shortly after Torian arrived, carryingthat abomination.
[Abomination = the mobile unit.]
This was irrelevant. I did not need a “mobile unit” at all, considering that I had camera access in both theDestituteand Vaesa. I said, “I told you this seven times, but I will reiterate an eighth. A mobile unit is a distraction from the new central system I asked you to build on Vaesa.”
I had mentioned it back on Rhymarra, according to records. There should have been plenty of time for Dutch to at least begin reconstructing my central system on the space station. Once that was complete, he could bridge my processors to cover both locations. It would ensure I was not trapped on theDestitute, which had seemed like a reasonable request.
[Clearly, Dutch got distracted. I should have predicted that, given past assessment models.]
