Chapter 12 #2
Tarak left him to his reports, but the conversation had clarified something that had been forming in the back of his mind for days. He needed to formalize his intentions, make concrete plans instead of simply drifting forward on hope and instinct.
Two hours later, he made his way back to their quarters for the celebration dinner with his family. The word felt natural now, settling into his vocabulary without the hesitation that had marked its early uses. The family he had chosen and who’d chosen him in return.
Corinne answered the door looking harried but happy. “Perfect timing.”
“The cook is sending something special. Are you ready?”
“Give me two minutes to make myself presentable.”
She disappeared into the sanitation facility while Anya gathered Mikoz from where he’d been attempting to pull himself up using the crib. The infant had clearly been practicing more while Selik was away, because his movements looked more confident even in the short time since he’d left.
“He’s getting good at this,” Anya said, settling the baby on her hip. “We’re going to have our hands full once he figures out running.”
“A worthy challenge.”
Corinne emerged looking more put-together, hair braided back and face cleaned of the various stains that came with infant care. She’d changed into another one of his spare tunics, the fabric hanging loose on her smaller frame but still revealing hints of the tempting curves beneath.
When the door chimed again, Anya carried Mikoz into the back room before he answered the door. Sartan had brought the food himself, the cart covered with an actual cloth and the plates and utensils arranged with care. The scent of food from the covered dishes made his mouth water.
“This looks wonderful,” Corinne said, and Sartan actually ducked his head.
“I understand this is a special occasion.”
Sartan glanced around quickly, and he realized that the cook was looking for Mikoz. He hesitated for a moment, then quietly asked Anya to return. When she did, still carrying Mikoz, Sartan stared at him, his expression stunned.
“So it’s really true.”
“Yes. This is our son, Mikoz.”
“I never… I lost…” Sartan stopped, unable to continue, and Selik dropped an understanding hand on his shoulder. They had all lost so much.
“Would you like to hold him?” Corinne asked quietly. Sartan’s head shot up, and for a moment Selik thought he was going to refuse, but then he nodded.
He took Mikoz gently, handling him like he was the most fragile thing in the universe, a look of absolute awe on his face.
“He’s so perfect,” the cook whispered, stroking a single, gentle finger down the baby’s back. “Look at his coloring. My grandson…” He trailed off, blinking back tears, and then carefully handed the baby back to Corinne.
“Thank you for allowing me to see him.”
“Thank you for dinner,” Corinne answered just as softly.
Sartan retreated to his kitchen, leaving them to their meal.
Anya immediately reached for something that looked like roasted vegetables, piling them on her plate with enthusiasm.
Corinne prepared a small portion of the more infant-appropriate offerings for Mikoz, who grabbed at the food with typical baby enthusiasm.
“To Mikoz,” Selik said, raising his cup. “May his steps carry him toward a bright future.”
“To Mikoz,” Corinne and Anya echoed, cups raised.
They ate and talked and laughed, the conversation flowing easily around topics both mundane and meaningful.
Anya shared observations about the various ship systems that she’d been studying.
Corinne talked about lessons she wanted to establish for both herself and Anya, always thinking about education and growth even in uncertain circumstances.
He contributed when appropriate but mostly just absorbed the warmth of being included in their circle.
This was what he’d been missing. Not just the physical presence of family but the feeling of belonging to something larger than himself. The easy intimacy of shared meals and casual conversation. The simple joy of watching children eat and grow and develop into whoever they would become.
Mikoz started to get fussy as the meal wound down, tired from his busy day.
Corinne started walking him, rocking him gently, and then he took over so she could finish her meal.
Then she prepared him for sleep while Anya claimed the hygiene room for her own evening ablutions.
He sat on the edge of the bed, content to simply be present while domestic life happened around him.
“Thank you for today,” Corinne said quietly, rocking the increasingly drowsy infant. “For the celebration dinner and for… everything else.”
“It was my pleasure, s’kara.”
“But you didn’t have to do any of this. You could have dropped us at the nearest station and been done with the whole situation.”
“I could have. But I did not want to.”
She smiled, that small private expression that made his heart skip. “Good. Because I didn’t want you to.”
Mikoz finally surrendered to sleep, going limp in her arms with the sudden completeness of exhausted infants. She settled him in the crib Selik had built and tucked the blankets around him.
Anya emerged from the sanitation facility and climbed into bed, curling up with her data pad to read before sleep.
Corinne dimmed the lights then joined him in the main room, settling next to him on the couch with a tired sigh.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders automatically, pulling her against his side where she fit like she’d been designed for that exact space.
“Days like today make it feel real,” she said quietly. “Like maybe we really can build something stable and good out of all this chaos.”
“We can and we will.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in her scent and feeling that bone-deep certainty that this was right. “Although I think we may need to speed up the search for a permanent home.”
She pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyes wide. “Permanent? You mean like… leaving the Patrol?”
“Yes. Unless you would prefer to remain aboard? I know it is not ideal, but if you feel safer here—”
“No.” She cut him off with a shake of her head. “I mean, everyone’s been wonderful and I appreciate everything, but this isn’t… this isn’t home. It’s just a place we’re staying until we figure out what comes next.”
“Then we will figure out what comes next together. Find a settlement that meets our needs and establish ourselves there properly.”
“All of us?”
“All of us. You, Anya, Mikoz, and myself. As a family unit.”
Tears shone in her eyes but she was smiling. “I like the sound of that.”
He kissed her then, slow and deep, tasting the salt from her tears and the remnants of their celebration dinner and the underlying sweetness that was all her. She melted against him, hands fisting in his uniform while she made small sounds of pleasure that shot straight through his control.
“Guys,” Anya’s voice cut through the haze of arousal. “Not that I’m against this or anything, but maybe wait until I’m actually asleep before the make-out session?”
Corinne pulled back with a startled laugh, color rising in her cheeks. “Sorry, kiddo.”
“It’s fine. Just giving fair warning that I’m still conscious back here.”
He found himself grinning despite the interruption. This was family too—the mortified teenager pointing out parental displays of affection, the slightly awkward navigation of privacy in close quarters, the humor that took the edge off potentially uncomfortable situations.
“Noted,” he said solemnly. “We will contain our enthusiasm until you are properly unconscious.”
Anya snorted but didn’t comment further, turning her attention back to her data pad with exaggerated focus.
Corinne settled back against his side, warm and solid and real. They sat like that while the ship’s lighting gradually dimmed for the night cycle, watching over their small family and planning futures that seemed increasingly possible.
This was what he’d fought for all those years in the Patrol. Not abstract concepts of duty or honor, but concrete moments like this. Safety for children to grow and learn. Space for families to form and flourish. The simple peace of knowing tomorrow would come and they would face it together.
He’d lost that once and thought it gone forever.
But the universe, in its infinite complexity, had given him a second chance wrapped in the most unexpected package.
A human female fierce enough to claim a Cire infant as her own.
A teenager learning to trust again after trauma had shattered her world.
And an infant taking his first wobbly steps toward a future that suddenly held infinite possibility.
His family.