Chapter 11 #2
Failure and loss are not the same thing, came the gentle response. You did not fail. You experienced loss. There is a difference.
Maya looked up from her notebook, concern evident in her expression. “Rykar? What is it?”
“She’s helping me understand something,” I said, my throat tight with emotion. “She says there’s a difference between failure and loss.” My voice faded even as I murmured, “I’ve never thought of it that way.”
Maya set down her notebook and moved to sit beside me, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “What’s she telling you?”
I tried to explain the complex web of concepts the Sola had shared—the idea that I had blamed myself for circumstances beyond my control, that my siblings’ deaths were a loss but not a failure on my part, that carrying their memory was not the same as carrying guilt for their fate.
“She’s right,” Maya said softly. “You’ve been punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
“But if I’d been more careful, if I’d been better prepared—”
“Then maybe things would have been different, or maybe they would have ended the same way,” Maya interrupted. “You can’t know what would have happened in an alternate timeline, and you can’t blame your past self for not being able to see the future.”
Through the bond, I felt the Sola’s agreement with Maya’s words. WISE FEMALE, appeared on the screen.
“It’s a message for me.” Maya rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t it be interesting if the screen is for me, so she doesn’t hurt me with her energy, and the crystal is for you? Different ways of communicating. Probably not true, but—”
TRUE, appeared on the screen.
Maya’s face broke into a wide grin. “Wow. This is amazing.”
It was. No species other than Destrans had ever communicated with a Sola, but here was a Sola talking to Maya, a human.
We continued working throughout the day, with Maya gradually helping me learn to interpret the Sola’s layered communication style.
Sometimes the Sola was clear and understandable, but sometimes she felt like a riddle.
Maya had a gift for asking the right questions, for breaking down complex concepts into manageable pieces that I could then relay to the ancient consciousness.
“Try thinking of it like translating poetry,” Maya suggested during one particularly difficult exchange. “Don’t focus on literal word-for-word translation. Look for the emotional resonance, the underlying meaning.”
It was brilliant advice. Instead of trying to parse every nuance of the Sola’s communication, I began focusing on the emotional core of what she was trying to convey.
The messages became clearer, more comprehensible, though they remained far more complex than the simple exchanges other lords described with their ships.
By late afternoon, I was beginning to feel the strain of maintaining such intense mental contact for extended periods.
The Sola was eager to share everything she’d been holding onto for millennia, but she dug into my mind, too.
She wanted to see what the universe was like now.
Each exchange required enormous concentration.
I found myself shaking after a long period of deep connection, and my hand fell away from the crystal from sheer exhaustion.
“You need to take a break,” Maya said, noticing the way I was swaying slightly on my feet. “You’re overextending yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I started to protest, but even as I spoke, another wave of communication from the Sola hit me with enough force to make my vision blur. I staggered, my knees buckling, and suddenly Maya was there, her arms around my waist as she helped lower me to the floor.
“Easy,” she said, her voice warm with concern. “Just breathe. You’ve been at this for hours.”
I found myself leaning against her, my head resting on her shoulder as I tried to process the aftereffects of the intense mental contact. Her hands were gentle as they smoothed over my hair, and I could smell the faint floral scent of whatever soap she’d used back on Ledos’ Sola.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them.
“When we first arrived, I could feel how much pain you were in through the connection. I thought I was going to break your connection to the Sola, but instead it’s being strengthened.
” I frowned. “That’s not what you want.”
Maya’s hands stilled in my hair. “My connection to the Sola wasn’t up to you. It was up to her. You accepted the bond, and that probably saved my life. As for what I want, I’ll figure that out. But right now? I’m glad I’m here, too.”
I lifted my head to look at her, seeing my own exhaustion reflected in her brown eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Maya. You’ve been the bridge between us from the beginning.”
“We’ve been doing it together,” she corrected. “Partners, remember?”
The word sent a warm flutter through my chest. Partners. Not just in this crisis, but potentially in whatever came next. The possibility was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
“Partners,” I agreed, and leaned forward to press my lips to hers.
This kiss was different from the gentle exploration we’d shared the night before. There was hunger in it, relief and gratitude and something deeper that I wasn’t quite ready to name. Maya responded immediately, her arms coming up to wrap around my neck as she kissed me back with equal intensity.
When we broke apart, both of us breathing hard, I could see my own want her eyes.
This time, when we came up for air, the look in Maya’s eyes was unmistakable.
She wanted this as much as I did, and suddenly the careful restraint I’d been maintaining seemed not just unnecessary but actively counterproductive.
“Maya,” I said, my voice rough with want.
“Yes?”
Instead of answering with words, I stood and lifted her in my arms, carrying her toward the sleeping chamber the Sola had created for us. Maya laughed, her arms tightening around my neck.
“Very traditional,” she said, but there was heat in her voice that made my pulse race.
“I have my moments,” I replied, setting her down beside the bed we’d shared the previous night.
This time, there was no hesitation, no careful positioning to maintain distance. Maya’s hands were already at the fastenings of my base layer shirt, and I was following her lead, my fingers working at the similar closures on her clothing.
When I finally got her shirt off, revealing the soft curves of her breasts contained in a simple undergarment, I had to pause to catch my breath. She was more beautiful than I’d imagined during the brief moments when I’d allowed myself to think about this possibility.
“You’re staring,” she said, but her voice was amused rather than self-conscious.
“You’re worth staring at,” I replied, and was rewarded by a flush that spread across her chest.
She reached for me then, her hands exploring the muscles of my chest and shoulders with the same reverent touch she’d given to geological samples.
But this time, her touch was anything but clinical.
Her fingers traced patterns across my chaotic-toned skin, making me shiver with want, and when she leaned forward to press her lips to the hollow of my throat, I groaned with the pleasure of it.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” she admitted against my skin. “About you. About us.”
“Good thoughts, I hope.”
“Very good thoughts.” She pulled back to look at me, her brown eyes dark with desire.
I framed her face with my hands. “When this crisis is over, when things settle down, we can have all the time in the universe to figure out what this is between us.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” And I meant it. Whatever happened with LunarLink Surveys, whatever legal complications arose from this situation, I wanted Maya to be part of my future.
I would not be returning to my solitary existence as a transport pilot, no more going back to the long routes and empty cargo holds.
I was a Destran lord, and I’d also experienced what it was like to have a true partner.
She kissed me again, and this time there was something different in it—not just desire, but hope. Hope for a future beyond this crisis, for the possibility of building something lasting together.
I was just beginning to think about removing the rest of our clothing when the sharp chime of Maya’s comm system cut through the intimate atmosphere like a blade.
“Ignore it,” I said against her lips, but she was already pulling back, her expression shifting from desire to concern.
“It might be important,” she said, reaching for the comm device she’d left on the small table beside the bed. “What if something’s wrong with the other Solas?”
I watched her face as she checked the incoming message, and my heart sank as I saw her expression change from concern to something approaching terror.
“Maya? What is it?”
She looked up at me, her face pale, her hands shaking slightly as she held the comm device.
“It’s a legal notice,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “From LunarLink Surveys. I’m in trouble, Rykar.”