CHAPTER 11 KAT
THEY DIDN’T give their cadets much time to acclimate.
She and Lee had a way of doing things on their squadron; cadets could either choose to get onboard or be swallowed.
But what with Lee’s latest playlist barreling through the ship’s speakers on maximized acoustics, the promise of lower gravity, and Dax’s bawdy singing, by the time they reached third moon, Nelana, they had their cadets bobbing their heads.
The local moon was well within Academy range.
Same quadrant, even. But she appraised each of them in turn as they donned their helmets and started the clock.
Crossing the apricot-colored crater on foot and in full gear was a lot like leaping around the anti-gravity chamber.
Only more scenic—and dirty. They’d have to send these outer suits in for a dry clean later just to get the dust off.
But she didn’t miss her favorite eggshell-paneled walls. Not with this backdrop.
Conveniently, there were no signs of dark radiation interference with this mission, more training shit.
They let their cadets mess around for a while, exploring the near-weightless sensation under a full blanket of stars, quite literally, shootin’ the moon at one point with a bit of loose debris that had become lodged in one of the skimmer’s exhausts during landing.
They were a good hour into their allotted time allowance before they had their cadets hunker down to begin collection on the requested batches of moon matter.
Kat ran a gloved finger across her rose-gold vizor to clear her view of the crater and the other cadets as she swept another scattering of moon dust into a tempered container.
“What do you think production will repurpose these chemical compounds into?” Dax asked Lee over the shared communication channel. His lack of weirdness around her and Lee today astonished her. He either had a thick skin, or he really didn’t care about the nasty rumors floating around the Academy.
But even astonishment had its limits. She watched Lee’s shoulders arch and fall as he attempted to physically roll off some of the rippling tension from Dax’s incessant questions and buddy attempts. She waited for him to lose his patience and snap at the cadet. But Lee never did.
How infatuated she was with this boy. Even if she hadn’t yet told Lee that out loud.
“Oy, Dax,” she called, motioning with a hand across the sloping expanse. “I need you.”
She didn’t wait before starting for the opposite edge of the crater, a half kilometer from their current position. She had ascended into a loping gait by the time Dax bounded into view, his inquisitive spirit still soaring.
“She called?” Dax said.
“I want a couple of bins from over there.”
Kat kept her pace rigid, even under the low-gravity. And Dax, bless his free-soaring soul, dutifully followed despite the bland and seemingly pointless directive she’d presented. When she wordlessly handed him the first bin, he set to work.
Kat didn’t need to explain herself. She was a squadron lead—she was a Gamma, and he, her cadet. But she remained with him while he filled his bin, working to load the other.
They had filled both of the bins with moon dust before she motioned for Dax to switch to the backup-com channel.
“Everything okay?” he asked once they were both on the emergency channel, the rest of their squadron securely on the other line.
“What you said earlier, to Lee and I—about the others acting weird around us. Why aren’t you?”
“Because I’ve worked with you and Lee before. I know your style. I know you. And I knew Levy.” There was no uncertainty to his words, only honesty. Pure, blunt honesty.
He really was a good soul.
“We could use more like you at the Academy,” she said.
Dax, bless his little cookie interior, was getting all red and gooey-eyed. “You don’t have to say that. It won’t change my opinion of you or Lee; I know you’re just being nice. I can get under people’s skin.”
Kat shook her head. “Get under our skin.”
She was smiling by the time they headed back towards the ship with their collections in tow. They’d switched back their coms to the common channel so she could share his brand of good humor with the rest of the squadron. Dax could be pleasant to be around when he wasn’t trying so hard to kiss-up.
Their squadron took their time loading everything up when they were done, having filled all of their containers and then some—and still easily within their mission’s time allowance.
“What?” she asked when she caught Lee staring at her. They were the last ones to remain standing on the surface of the moon.
“Nothing.” Lee shook his head, a mist of apricot-dust coating the gravity between them. “You’re breathtaking, that’s all.”
Kat grinned. “I know.”
“Have a nice chat?” he asked, a bit too knowingly.
And she thought she’d been very sneaky with her motives. Kat winked back at him. “A lady never tells.” But as she peered out across the moonscape once more, she couldn’t help but think there was hope left in their galaxy.
“Dax isn’t so bad. We can bring him along again sometime.”
With Lee a half-step behind, they clambered inside the ship with the others, sealing off another raid on the books. And with it, an extra layer of dust she hadn’t known she’d been carrying around with her.
They had their squadron de-suited and back onboard the Academy within the hour. After completing the post-raid follow ups, and instructing the dock workers and flight crew where to unload the moon dust collection, they followed their cadets out of the skimmer.
“Enjoy your afternoon naps!” she called to their cadets’ retreating backs. Dax alone laughed at her joke. Whatever.
Lee shot her an incredulous look.
“Think they heard me?” she asked. When Lee stared at her, Kat shrugged. He appreciated her irreverence, even if he didn’t know it.
Since they didn’t have labs associated with this particular raid and everything was being shipped directly to resource management, all they really had left was their cadets’ health surveys and the mission reports. Both of which could wait until later.
Which left the afternoon completely free.
“Thursday… What do we even do on Thursday afternoons?” Kat mused as they filed up through the Heptagon.
It had been a while since they’d had time for normal cadet things.
Just thinking that felt like a red flag.
She’d been blazing after Nolan cranky-pants not two days ago, but even now, she wasn’t sure that was a lead she wanted to pursue.
She supposed they could always check-in with the twins.
They reached the showers. And despite the outer suits and helmets they’d worn out on the mission today, she still felt as if she could feel it in the crevices under her all-terrain suit and under her fingernails—essence of moon dust.
She ached to get a deep scrub in. But when she went to voice that, Lee twined his fingers through hers, pulling her towards him with just enough force to keep her feet grounded. “Hey, get over here.”
Giggling, she gave in, collapsing against him and throwing her arms around his neck. He twirled his fingers in her ponytail, yanking softly as he aligned her mouth to his. Kat grinned against his lips, eyelashes fluttering over the smattering of freckles dotting his nose.
This—this is what they did on Thursday afternoons.
She lost herself to the soft bow of his warm lips, bathing in the musk of his strong chest as he held her close. She ran her hands through his rich locks of hair while he tangled a fist around her ponytail once more.
“We are filthy,” she reminded him in between kisses.
“We can be filthy,” Lee murmured, tugging at her bottom lip and drinking in her soft laughter as she rolled onto her toes. He adjusted his grip on her lower back. Lower still as she backed him into the wall.
“Dust all over our bodies,” Kat tried again, leaning her head back like she might pull away, while her hands clung to his arms with vice grips, unwilling to relinquish her hold on him just yet. He seemed to realize this, tugging her back into him.
“I’ll take the dust,” Lee whispered, his breath caressing her ear. A tiny squeak escaped her as she arched into his embrace.
She eventually—begrudgingly, and a tad lightheaded—made it in there. Though, given the feel of his arms emblazoned around her waist, and the taste of Lee on her lips… It was a wonder she’d made it at all.
She turned on the cool water, watching the tiny beads of water collect along the ends of her vanilla-blonde hair, until goosebumps pebbled. Then she dialed the temperature up a few degrees and let the warm water lull her into a comfortable daze.
She and Lee were taking things slow. And not because she didn’t want to with him—she did. She really did.
She clamped her thighs together, toes curling as she attempted to stifle the images already forming in her head.
Void, how she wanted to take him for a ride, make him see stars and paint the entire zapping sky in their glory.
She wanted to give herself wholly to him and let him wear that on a banner so that the entire galaxy—no, the universe—would know she was his.
That they had won. Against all odds, she and Lee had made it.
But for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like she needed to rush things. Like the universe was gifting her this time to be with him, and to get it right.
She knew what it was like to have nothing.
To want for everything. Right up until she joined the Academy, it had just been her and her aunt struggling out a meager existence.
She’d always known that if she slowed down, if she let go, she’d spiral out of control and it would be taken from her.
She was terrified of the day that invisible force would start propelling her forward again.
But maybe she didn’t have to keep running. Maybe this was the universe telling her she didn’t have to do it all on her own anymore. That she wouldn’t crash and burn if she finally let herself slow down. Because she had Lee.