Still, she couldn’t believe her luck.
A new home. For her, for Celise, maybe for Amelia and her crew. Maybe for all of the people struggling to breathe on the colony space stations, or all the wayward souls expelled from Rhymarra because they failed an exam.
The possibilities were limitless, and Torian’s mind spun.
But Dutch was clearly waiting for an answer, and Torian really didn’t have a choice. Rhymarra was out, theDestitutewas short-term at best. No matter how hard it would be, no matter the challenges, Vaesa was the next best option.
She just had to hope Dutch was as honest as he seemed.
“Moss,” she asked hesitantly. “Do you think this is a good idea?”
“I proposed it,” Moss replied, its mechanical voice filtering with pride.
Well. She trustedMoss, anyway. So, she nodded and held out her hand, a visual representation to seal the deal. And unlike the folk on Rhymarra, Dutch reached out and shook her hand.
“Let’s make intergalactic history,” he said.
When he put it like that, Torian couldn’t help but feel a little excited about this path forward.
After all, Vaesa just needed a little TLC…
And a lot of Moss.
CHAPTER 15
Eventually, Zen joined them on theDestitute. Considering a draic’s physical size and stature, this shifted the living area from cozy to cramped. Zen delicately perched on the edge of the couch beside Dutch, listening to the plan. After she’d finished summarizing, he leaned back and said, “Sounds good.”
“You don’t seem surprised.” Torian raised an eyebrow.
Zen shrugged. “We discussed it on the flight here. I’d never been to Vaesa, but when we docked to look for Dutch’s ship, I knew that space station wasn’t something we’d just… leave. After you mentioned your sister’s breathing issues, it made sense we’d include you both in the repairs.”
“That’s because my partner is brilliant.” Dutch’s fingers trailed along Zen’s arm. The draic’s scales shifted into a warmer hue, as if he were blushing. It was cute—a really nice moment.
At least until Moss intoned: “He is not more brilliant than me. I am the supercomputer.”
“And super, you are,” Dutch said.
“Do not patronize me.”
Zen interrupted them, holding up a hand. “Regardless, this is a good path for everyone. Vaesa is a galactic landmark, and I don’t think anyone realized how far into disrepair it’s fallen. At this point, it’s our duty to help repair it.” He pushed to his clawed feet, shaking his wings a bit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m relocating outside. It’s awfully tight in here.” With a wave, he started for the cargo bay doors.
Torian hesitated. This felt too easy. Draics were longer-livedthan humans, sure, but this was a years-long commitment. Dutch had mentioned Zen worked for the draic military—she found it hard to believe he could just drop everything for decades to help restore an old space station.
She followed Zen onto the Rhymarran dock. “You really don’t have anywhere better to be?”
Zen shrugged one thick shoulder. “Ships are cramped. That station had a nice temperature and room to fly. I wouldn’t mind stretching my wings for a bit.” For emphasis, he unfurled his wings. Now that she could admire them properly, she realized they were easily the span of five times her height. They looked paper-thin, almost translucent, and folded up so well that she hadn’t realized how large they truly were.
Zen stared longingly at the Rhymarran sky, but he must have realized that adraicsoaring over Terra Nova University might be perceived as an act of war. He sighed and folded his wings again, letting them hook over his shoulders like a cape. “Regardless, it will give my crew something to do. We like to stay busy.”
“I guess I figured you’d have… um, draic business. Or something.” It sounded stupid even as Torian said it. She almost brought up their empress, almost pried for more information on their culture, but couldn’t bring herself to ask. A part of her was still nervous around Zen.
He grinned, his fangs glinting in the setting sun. “Luckily, deployment into ‘draic business’ is optional.”
Torian snorted.
Dutch finished saying goodbye to Moss, even as he tucked second-Moss and its clear container under one arm. He stepped down the short ramp, strolling to Zen with practiced familiarity. “Shall we,puatic? Lots to do. Plant Moss across the central dome, find envirosuits for our journeys into the auxiliary domes, rewire the current life support system to allow organic access—”
“And wait for Nasra, remember?” Zen said, smoothly interrupting him. At Dutch’s perplexed expression, Zen sighed. “Thetou’siil? She’s been the CSS point of contact in this solar system for decades.”
