Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
Family
Shohari
WE APPROACHED the disused mining station, everyone crowded on the bridge apart from Daiytak, who was staying with Airida.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Garrison said.
I jabbed the console. “These are the co-ordinates.”
Paiata unwrapped a protein bar and took a bite. “Skykking Anandri and his disembodied co-ordinates.”
“This is the correct location,” Coerril said in her melodic, husky tones.
I didn’t like it. But after this we were free and clear.
The docking tube connected with a hollow clunk.
“You—” I jabbed a finger at Paiata. “And you—” Tokoran raised a brow. “With us. Everyone else stays here.”
I hoisted a rifle over my shoulder. So I had a blaster strapped to my thigh as well; perhaps I could be persuaded into higher stakes situations every now and then. Especially with my taamhia kizathi at my side.
Garrison stood shoulder to shoulder with me, looking extra delectable in the gear he’d bought from Vadias. His customary short-sleeved shirt strained round his biceps even more than it had when we’d first met—frequent sex wrestling with a kri’ith would have that effect.
He gave my arm a comforting squeeze, and I flashed him a smile laden with the promise of later.
We tromped through the tube, my spines shivering as the seal hissed shut behind us, our station boots echoing in the gloom.
The long corridor turned a corner and opened onto a large room, where lights hung haphazardly from the ceiling, half of them not working, half the remainder flickering and buzzing. At a table in the centre sat Anandri.
The nebaru rose as we arrived, taking his time turning to face us. Almost a head shorter than my companions, smaller still than his shipment, he carried himself with the confident air one only gains through hard-won experience. “Captain Shohari, I presume.”
I gave a shallow tilt of my head. “Your cargo, I presume.” I stretched a hand to the ydouir, who had already left my side to stand with him.
“Indeed. When I got your comm, I was concerned. I do not expect personally escorted cargo to be dropped off at an Orkri pod like a crate of vegetables.”
“Then perhaps you should have made me aware of the nature of the shipment.”
The nebaru smiled, mirth and steel dancing in his cool eyes. “Where would the entertainment be in that? I expect high standards from my couriers and for them to be unflappable. Adaptable.”
A strong beat of Coerril’s wings and she could flap you over, little male. “I remain thoroughly unflapped, Anandri. Did I pass your little test?”
“Well enough.” He pushed up the cuffed sleeve of his jacket—Bzhaltian tailoring?—and tapped his wrist-comm.
Mine answered with a chirp, a fitting sound to announce the quantity of credits arriving in my account.
“I will call on you in due course, Captain. As you may have heard, I am expanding my operations, which is why I have taken Coerril to my side,” Anandri said.
She was willing. I’d made sure of that.
“Well, then,” I said. “I shall await your comm. And perhaps next time I shall see your fabled auction ship.”
“Perhaps.”
I crossed the small distance to the ydouir and clasped her arm. “Thank you, Coerril, for your assistance.”
She gave me a stately incline of her head. “In the end, I did nothing, Captain.”
“Ah, but you could have,” I said, “and that made all the difference.”
So many small factors, I couldn’t tell which had been the final piece to yield our victory.
“As you wish,” the ydouir said. “I shall see you again, Captain, I am sure.”
And that was it.
Maughnis could wait. Getting Airida settled was my only priority—other than making up for lost time with my mate. The weeks of travel to Vadias would give us nothing but time, and we hastened back to the Dorimisa.
THE DAYS PASSED. As we did much of the time we weren’t working or in bed, we lay on the sofa, Garrison between my outstretched legs, his back to my chest, my arms around him. I pressed a kiss into his soft mane, breathing in his fresh, comforting scent.
His hands trailed over my arms. “I’m going to burn off some energy in the gym.”
“Or you could save it for later.” A purr rumbled in my chest.
He kissed my headspines and straightened up. “I’ll have plenty left for later,” he said, and gave me a wink before heading off to the training room.
I admired the sway of his pert arse as he walked away, but more than that, I let the joy of his presence wash over me—until thoughts of the other male in my life crept in.
“Sister, you look troubled.” Airida meandered into the galley, hand braced on the wall for support.
My heart hurt at how much he suffered as the drugs worked their way out of his system.
I’d second-guessed myself so many times, convinced I’d brought on his suffering even though, logically, I knew that wasn’t the case.
This was part of a process. But a process I had to trust Tokoran and Daiytak about; we were reliant on them and their knowledge, and that rankled.
Airida sat heavily on the sofa next to me, his breath coming in short pants.
“Just thinking,” I said.
“About?”
“Everything.”
“Well do I know that feeling, dear Ohri.”
I let a faint smile touch my lips at the childhood nickname and his very Orithian way of speaking. “I always dreamed of getting to this point, but I never thought about what comes next,” I said.
“At least you had an inkling it was coming. And you are still kri’ith, even if you are a heretic.”
I started at the bitterness in his tone, tugging on my headspines for comfort.
Shamefully, I hadn’t considered how he might feel after being rescued.
We’d not been able to speak properly in years.
Had I known he’d thrown himself into our traditional teachings about the gods?
Had I realised how much his kri’ith identity was a part of him, and had I even considered how it might feel to have that taken away?
I’d only wanted to save him, and I knew I’d done the right thing, so why did it feel so hard?
I couldn’t remember the last time I argued with my brother, but today it was all we seemed to do until he ran out of energy, shrugging off my help as he shuffled back to his berth.
THE DAYS MEANDERED on in a holding pattern.
Garrison bent down, giving my forehead a kiss before sitting next to me on the sofa, and handed me a mug of chrya. “What’s up?”
“Airida.” I didn’t have to say anything else.
“Just give him time.”
I sighed. “I know. I assumed he’d want to stay with me here on the Dorimisa. And it hurts that he doesn’t. But a ship is too out of his comfort sector, I think.”
“Just because I was held captive on a planet doesn’t mean I don’t want to be on a planet.” Airida leaned in the doorway and made his slow way over to us. “I’d sooner be on a planet than a ship.”
“Hi, Airida.” Garrison let my brother’s bitterness roll off him, and I wished I could do the same.
“A couple of my friends live on Vadias too,” Garrison said.
“They’re new to living in the galaxy, new to all the different species who live here, and they’re doing okay.
And you can too. With the shaa'ith there as well, it might be a better fit.” He turned to me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Sho.”
Airida began arguing again, and I let it happen. The gods knew, he’d been through so much. It didn’t stop it hurting though.
I nestled into Garrison’s arms, and he held me tight. Gods, how had I lived without this?
“I cannot stay here, Ohri,” Airida said. “It was not meant for me to fly amongst the stars. I was almost happy, you know. I had my art. My garden. I was good at finding trades, was I not?”
Guilt wormed its way through me. “You were. I hope you will be again? The analyst share of the profit is yours if you do, of course.”
He considered my offer, intelligence twinkling in his eyes. “Do you still plan to get a ship upgrade? I will analyse for you when you get a new ship. I do not think I could while it is still this one.”
My mouth dropped open. His first instinct when I’d mentioned trading in the Dorimisa for something else had been horror.
Not having Airida on my ship, and not having him involved in trades either?
Kheh, just as well I was already nearly decided.
“I will miss this hunk of junk.” I loved her, but the Dorimisa needed too much work doing, and she was far too old to justify the credits.
Without the constraints of Orith, I could get anything, within reason.
“It has some good memories.” Garrison’s voice was husky, but a cheeky smirk spread across his face. “Though Muzi will be pleased to get a XK55 Cruiser.”
I thumped him on the arm, and he winced. “Ha. She fancies. I refuse to captain a cruiser. Freighter or death.”
His airy laughter filled the galley, catching me in its spell. I’d tease him about being fragile later. He rubbed his arm, and I pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, kissed the bulge of muscle there, breathed in that musk and fresh air scent that smelled like home.
I paused under the weight of Airida’s gaze. He found it hard to put aside his prejudices, to accept my mate was human, but I knew he cared for my happiness. That alone gave me hope we’d repair our relationship. All I’d wanted was for us to be free. Now, I wanted him to be happy too.
“I think you are right,” he said, after our laughter died down into the kind of heated gazes that meant we really should go to our room. “About Vadias. As everyone keeps reminding me, I am not kri’ith. I have no choice but to learn who I am.” Tears leaked from his eyes, and he swiped them away.
The more I said things would work out, the more I began to believe it. If I’d allowed myself to trust before, I wouldn’t still be kicking myself about what a fool I’d been every time I held Garrison in my arms.
Change hurt. Good things lay beyond. I had to trust the gods would give the same to Airida.
I rested soft eyes on the man next to me, on the male shuffling back to his room. In the haphazardly stacked bowls on the counter, and the discarded awmi bar packets I saw my crew.
Family. I had my family. And for the first time, it was good.
Garrison
IT WAS MORE of a homecoming than I’d expected to land at the small spaceport on Vadias. With Shohari at my side, there was no trace of last month’s trepidation, and even the earthy smell of the greenery was tolerable.
We took a speeder straight to the shaa’ith village of Zyamzh. Airida’s withdrawal was going through a particularly hard stage, and I cringed at every jolt of the speeder, knowing how it must be affecting him.
The photo Imani had sent didn’t do the village justice. In the growing twilight, torches illuminated the plain, low buildings, lambent shadows dancing on the stone walls. As the speeder’s engines shut down, the whooshing whine gave way to the trill of nighttime insects and the rustling of trees.
A number of shaa’ith rose from around the central fire to greet us. To my delight, Fenn and Imani were also among them, looking healthy and more relaxed than last time I’d seen them.
Their faces lit up, and Imani ran to me with a delighted squeal. “Garrison! We missed you.”
I scooped her up in a hug, ruffling her hair. “It’s good to see you too.”
Damn, it was good to see humans. I didn’t need it all the time, but it was good to be here.
She stepped back, glancing at the way Shohari’s arm returned to my waist, and her smile grew wider. “You’re not staying, are you?”
“Don’t sound so sad about it,” I teased.
“Oh, I am, a bit. But mostly I’m just happy for you.” She turned her smile on Shohari. “For both of you. Oh, is that new ink?” She gestured at my arms, and I straightened one out so she could see.
“Not quite.” Love swelled in my chest. “I got alien married.” I ran my eyes over the emerging mating marks—an echo of Shohari’s—which grew darker every day, the swirling lines sprawling round my existing tattoos.
We hadn’t expected them, but a week ago we’d thought we were imagining things, and now they were as undeniable as our love for each other.
Fenn peered closer. “Are these like the shaa’ith kink tattoos?”
“The what?” Had I heard that right?
“Never mind,” they said, giving their half-smile. “Congratulations, both of you.”
Imani’s eyes slipped past us and settled on Airida.
I hid my grin. It wasn’t often she was this demonstrative, and I had a distinct sense they were all going to be okay.
Before long, Airida swayed, clinging to Shohari, and I went to support his other side.
Imani hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “Let’s get you to bed,” she said before Tokki and Daiytak could take charge.
The poor guy looked spent. I imagined he was both relieved to be at our final destination and held some apprehension about what lay ahead. Despite all of that, he seemed transfixed by our Imani. I’d definitely be keeping in close touch.
“Will we be staying in reasonable comms range for now?” I asked Shohari as we left the hut that was Airida’s new home.
“Yes.”
I saw her weariness in the ridges around her eyes, heard it in the slower, muted tones of her voice, but it wasn’t the ennui that had weighed her down before Orith. It was the well-earned tiredness of a job well done.
Mission complete.
All humans relocated. One brother rescued. One mother defeated.
And I’d found my home, too.
Shohari shoved my arm. “Stop that. I can see what you’re doing. Stop thinking you’ve fixed it and now you can move onto the next person you need to help.”
I mock-glared at her. “I can’t help it. What do I do now, though? You’re sorted. He’ll be sorted. My friends are sorted.” I pretended to think, even as I slid my hand round to squeeze the soft dip of her waist. “Who can I help now?”
She slapped my arse, the crack ringing out in the verdant twilight. “What about your taamhia kizathi, hmm?”
My mood to joke evaporated under the hot sting. “What do you have in mind?”
She nudged me with her hip and gave me a shy, tired smile. “I need you to snuggle me.”
Warmth flooded every part of me. “I can do that, sweetheart.”
I pulled my mate into my arms and kissed her. It was time to get back aboard the Dorimisa and take off through the stars at her side.