Epilogue
Danitalin
Life after Radin was… an adjustment. I’d never lived anywhere but on a safe, protected Aderian world or inside a research facility.
Aboard the Varakartoom, everything was different.
There were rowdy males in the mess hall at any given hour, the bridge was always manned by a highly trained crew, and the second-in-command slunk about the ship with a mind so terrifying it made me want to curl up and hide.
I was told the Sineater was harmless, but I didn’t believe them.
The woman mated to that male, Frederique, was beyond brave. It made her a little terrifying too.
But it wasn’t just rough, dangerous warriors and battle-hardened veterans.
There were several women mated to these males, and some of them were pregnant.
One—the mate of the captain—even had a tiny, adorable half-naga baby.
She also had a Naga shadow following her nearly everywhere: her mate’s adult son, Saisir, who’d taken it upon himself to be her personal bodyguard when he wasn’t deployed as a sniper on a mission.
Then there was Dravion, the half-Aderian, half-Grolarnx doctor of the ship.
He was one of the first people I met after Jaxin’s crew had taken us back to the Varakartoom.
I’d insisted my mate get a medical checkup, and he’d insisted on me getting one.
I’d laughed over that, but Jaxin had been very serious.
It was a little… uneasy to meet a creature that, by all accounts, shouldn’t even exist—a creature fabled to be so deadly that everyone was terrified of its existence.
Then I met him, and being an empath was a great advantage.
Sensing his mind was all the reassurance I needed to know that Jaxin and I were in good hands.
Now, I thought I might even consider the male a friend.
They’d rescued my entire team from the planet, and even if Hitaryn was pretty terrified of everyone, they were all right.
Even Jeltom, who was still recovering in the medbay, was going to make it.
In a few days, we’d reach Llykhe, one of Aderia’s many worlds, and leave my team there.
For obvious reasons, I’d chosen to stay with Jaxin on the Varakartoom.
Dravion’s lab had everything I could possibly need to finish my research.
“Are you absolutely certain about this, Danitalin?” Jeltom asked me when I visited him.
He was propped up in bed, bandages wrapped around his shoulder and chest where he’d been shot.
His hair had always been in an unusual style, but now it looked even stranger to me.
Shaven at the sides, the remaining long black hair had been braided and twisted into a tight curl atop his head—probably to keep it from getting matted while he lay down so often.
But the result made him seem like he had a mohawk, much like the strange, feathered communications officer of the ship.
“About what?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
My hand went up to touch the hidden mating mark Jaxin had left on my shoulder, and heat tingled in my belly as I recalled the sex we’d had just before I came here.
I knew it baffled everyone a little that I’d want to stay on a ship of mercenaries, given the strength of my gift, but I wasn’t daunted.
Not when I’d discovered the strength there was in having Jaxin as my protector.
“A mercenary ship like this isn’t exactly a reputable place,” Jeltom said in his usual gruff manner.
He was one of those Aderians without an aptitude for empathy.
That was one of the reasons he’d joined the Aderian military: the lack made him a fine soldier.
He was still very astute, though, having been trained to compensate for the lack by observing.
“What are you talking about?” I quipped.
“The Varakartoom is the most reputable mercenary ship there is. They’re notorious all over the Zeta Quadrant and make their enemies tremble in their boots.
” I’d never forget the sight of that; hardened criminals surrendering rather than facing Jaxin’s buddies.
Now I wondered if the mercenaries back on Radin would have chased us, or shot at us, if they’d known who Jaxin was.
“You know what I mean,” Jeltom sighed, but he reached out and touched my hand for a quick, friendly squeeze.
“He makes you happy, doesn’t he? Why am I not surprised you’d be the one to find a way to burrow under all that Rummicaron cold and thaw such a heart?
” Jeltom was turning into half a poet on his sickbed, and I was tempted to tease him about it.
The need to be assured I was content with my choice was too powerful, though.
He was as much a protector as my Jaxin was.
“He makes me so happy, Jeltom. I love him, and I know he loves me, and you can believe that or not, but I know the truth.” I turned my head to gaze at Jaxin through the plex-glass window that separated us.
He was sitting on the edge of a cot while Dravion gave him another once-over.
Since I’d assured him that the pain in his chest had nothing to do with rejecting the synthetic bones, he had been more willing to share what was going on with the doctor.
He sat up proudly, chest bare, as Dravion scanned the still-strengthening and healing muscles beneath his scarred gray skin.
His fin, tipped with black, rose proudly from his wide back, and his gills sat like sleek slits on the sides of his neck.
To me, he looked powerful, in his prime.
I knew that even while still healing, he’d been more than enough to protect me. He’d always be my hero.
“I believe it,” Jeltom said solemnly. “I also heard about your research.” He referred to the negotiations Evie, a former fake Xurtal princess, had opened on my behalf—with the Kertinal Empire, but also with the Radin giants.
That cure was of interest to the Kertinal too, who dealt with Roka drug plants on their border worlds.
They even dealt with addicts to the drug in their own population, as it wasn’t just Rummicaron who got addicted to the stuff.
“It’s not finished yet,” I said firmly, but I did not bring up the offer for him to stay again.
He’d made his choice, too, he was retiring on Llyhke, and that was that.
It wasn’t finished, but I was closer than ever.
The lab here was fantastic, Dravion was a genius, and those preserved flower garlands held the key.
Evie had managed to negotiate a new truce to the hostilities on Radin while they hammered out a proper treaty that included access to the flowers for my cure.
I couldn’t believe how fast things were moving, and the pressure to deliver was a little daunting.
Taktak’s people kind of depended on my cure for their peace, too.
“Yet,” Jeltom grinned, his stoic mask briefly breaking.
“Hey, promise me no more bomb-making in your future, yeah? And keep that big Rummicaron of yours feeling that wonderful love for you. You guys deserve it.” That was about as wordy as I’d ever seen my friend and lead assistant.
Jeltom was not your typical Aderian. He was not so quick to discuss feelings, or used to expressing whatever he felt.
He always kept things close to the vest.
I smiled and promised, just as Jaxin stalked into Jeltom’s recovery room.
“Enough time with my mate,” he said to my friend, with all the possessive growl he felt.
It was true, he’d stopped even trying to hide his emotions and pretend he was like any other Rummicaron.
The change had been met with acceptance rather than taunting, though I’d heard a few jokes like, “I knew it.” “See? You’re not a cold fish. ”
Letting my mate swing me into his arms felt perfect; letting him haul me through his rainbow-bright ship’s hallways was a tad embarrassing, but reaching his quarters was all the reward I needed.
He’d had a bed installed for us, because my body obviously couldn’t handle sleeping submerged in saltwater.
Still… that tank—what fun we’d had in it—and he seemed dead set on a repeat performance.
***
Jaxin
Having Dani safely aboard the Varakartoom was a bit like a dream come true.
She changed everything, and it was better for it.
Sleeping on dry land, in a bed, was a blessing instead of a curse.
Sitting in the mess hall with my crewmates was the kind of fun I could now allow myself to truly feel. And Bex was mine again, too.
I wasn’t used to apologizing, but I did feel like I owed Ysa one. A—a big one—for snapping at her when she’d tried so hard to give me back a piece of myself. That was what good friends did, and she had not deserved that Rummicaron bite. In that, Thatcher had been right.
Once I’d left my Dani in the lab, accompanied by Mandy and her happy baby, I set out on this new task. While my little scientist exercised her brain and solved a puzzle the whole quadrant, and one peace-hungry planet, were waiting for, I was going to exercise feelings.
I found Ysa where she always was: inside the engine room.
She oversaw three grunts as they did system checks and performed the myriad minor repairs and maintenance tasks constantly required by a ship this size.
Her long blue braid was wrapped three times around her small waist, and her boots had soles as thick as my fist. A pair of crossed femurs glinted silver on each of her earlobes, a decoration she was very fond of wearing.
Thatcher wasn’t far either, propped against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a glare firmly affixed to his face.
When he saw me, the glare intensified. No, that male had not forgiven me for upsetting Ysa after she’d tried to restore Bex to me.
I touched the scratch on the cannon’s barrel as I walked in, as much a reminder to myself as to Thatcher.
I was armed, and it was Bex again, so he’d better be warned.
“Jaxy!” Ysa said cheerfully when she saw me. “To what do I owe this visit?” She smiled so brightly at me, her dark blue lips parting and her azure eyes sparkling, that it was obvious she did not hold my earlier anger against me. She was truly a good female, almost as good and kind as my Dani.
I touched Bex, this time, simply to draw attention to her presence.
“I’m here to thank you, and to apologize,” I said to the bouncy, smiling engineer.
“I was in a bad place, and you tried to make things better by doing this.” I patted Bex where she hung against my hip.
“And I didn’t think it was better, not at the time.
But… without this cannon, I would never have been able to protect Dani.
Each time I fired her, I could see it—what you’d tried to tell me: that Bex’s spirit is still there. So, thank you.”
Ysa might have cried at my words, Thatcher might have snarled and cursed, and then I might have punched his lights out.
I definitely wasn’t going to talk about this incident, and I also wasn’t apologizing.
I’d learned from Dani that some tears were good tears, and perhaps it was Thatcher who still needed to learn that lesson.
The male was just rousing again—rousing with vengeance in mind—when the lights on the ship all went out.
Ysa swore, first with annoyance, but when she went to the nearest console, her swearing turned into something close to panic. “This isn’t just a small outage,” she whispered, mouth going white with shock. “The whole ship is down.”
I ran from the engine room so fast I nearly clipped the doorway, racing to Dani’s side in the lab. By the time I found her, the power had been restored, the deck humming back to life beneath my feet. All was well for now, but for how long?
Dani let me hug her tightly as I considered what this meant, and I was not the only male who’d rushed to his mate’s side in that dark moment. Asmoded was only a moment behind me, rushing to Mandy and his small baby. Our eyes met as we held our mates, equal parts worry and relief.
“We’ll figure this out,” Asmoded swore. “We’ll head for Strewn right now.
” Yeah, we would. It had briefly been terrifying to lose control of the ship like that, a ship that was home to all of us.
Still, I had faith in Ysa, and faith in general that it would turn out all right.
I had Dani now to fill my world, and I’d fight like a Ferai beast to keep her safe every time.
“We’ll be okay,” Dani said, echoing my thoughts. “We have each other.” Yeah, we did. I had what most Rummicaron had lost in an effort to be civilized: a true mate, the most precious thing a male could possibly possess, and she was all mine.
THE END