12. Hakan
Hakan
Idon't sleep.
I tell myself it's because someone needs to monitor our course, watch for pursuit, stay alert for potential threats. But the truth is simpler and more complicated than that.
I can't stop thinking about Daisy.
She's curled in my lap, her body soft and warm against mine, her breathing deep and even. Her red hair is a wild tangle, and there's a small smile on her lips — the kind of expression that comes from contentment, from feeling safe enough to truly rest.
She trusts me. This curvy, resilient human female who has every reason to be terrified, who was torn from her home world and thrown into unimaginable danger — she trusts me to keep her safe.
The weight of that trust settles over me like a physical thing.
My arms tighten around her involuntarily, and she makes a small sound in her sleep, nestling closer. The movement shifts her soft breasts against my chest, and my shaft — which has been hard since the moment I touched her — throbs insistently.
I force myself to breathe through it, to ignore the ache of unsatisfied desire.
Soon, I promise myself. When we're somewhere safe, somewhere private, I'll take my time with her. I will worship every inch of her soft skin, learn every sound she makes, discover exactly what brings her the most pleasure.
I will make her mine in every possible way.
If she still wants that.
The thought brings me up short. The Commander mentioned that the other human females have struggled to adjust. What if Daisy meets them and decides she needs to return to Earth?
What if I have to let her go?
The thought is physically painful, but I already know the answer. If she wants to go, I will have no choice but to let her. I could never trap her in a life she doesn't want, never force her to stay out of some misguided sense of obligation or gratitude.
She has to choose this freely. Choose me freely.
And if she doesn’t....
I close my eyes against the pain of that possibility.
The hours pass slowly. I monitor our course, check the sensors for any signs of pursuit, run diagnostics on the transport's systems. Everything is functioning normally — we're making good time toward Crozan.
As the ship's chronometer indicates the beginning of a new day cycle, I gently shake Daisy awake.
"Amavi," I murmur against her hair. "You should move to the bed. Get proper rest."
She makes a sleepy sound of protest. "Don't wanna move. Comfortable here."
I smile. "You'll be more comfortable lying down."
"Not without you," she mumbles.
The casual intimacy of her words warms my chest. But she needs real sleep, not the half-rest she's getting curled in my lap.
"Come on," I say, shifting her weight so I carry her in my arms.
"Tell me about Nazen," she murmurs sleepily. “What’s it like?"
"It's a neutral world," I tell her. ”A haven for refugees from across the galaxy."
"Will they accept us? The boys and me?"
"They'll welcome you. The other human females will understand what you're going through better than anyone. They've walked this path before you."
"And the boys?"
“They’ll have other children to play with. Along with safety, stability, and community." I tighten my arms around her. "Everything I wouldn't have been able to give them on the farm."
She looks up at me. “You gave them something more important than physical safety. You gave them hope. Love."
"You're too generous with your praise."
"I'm honest," she counters. ”You're a good man, Hakan. A good father. Those boys are lucky to have you."
"I'm the lucky one," I reply. "I thought my life was over. I thought the best I could do was survive until my time ran out. But you — all of you — showed me I was wrong."
I scoop her up into my arms and stand up. She doesn’t object. She’s so soft, so warm against my chest. I carry her into the sleeping quarters, mindful of my movements so I don't wake the boys.
Riz and Davi are sprawled in their bunks, completely unconscious. Good — they need the rest as much as Daisy does.
I settle her next to them and she immediately pulls the blanket over herself and curls onto her side.
Her hand reaches out. “Stay,” she whispers.
I catch her hand, squeeze gently, then force myself to let go. “Sleep, amavi. Sleep.”
Back in the cockpit, I focus on the practical necessities of our approach to Crozan.
I drop the transport out of hyperspace and the asteroid spaceport appears on my sensors — a massive rock pockmarked with docking bays, orbiting a giant gas planet.
Dozens of ships are already berthed there, everything from sleek personal craft to lumbering cargo haulers.
“Permission to dock,” I send out.
An answer comes back right away. “All docks currently occupied. Establish a holding pattern and await instructions.”
I sigh, not surprised. Barzella’s domain is becoming an increasingly important trading center.
The Cordallan is fierce, shrewd, and commands respect throughout the Outer Fringe.
She also has strict rules about her spaceport: no trafficking in intelligent beings, no unprovoked violence, and payment is expected for all services rendered.
Rules like that are good for business.
And clearly, business on Crozan is good.
An hour later, I receive permission to dock at Bay 47. As I guide the transport to our dock, I can't help but notice the weaponry built into the asteroid's surface — particle cannons, missile arrays, and what look like gravity disruptors. Barzella doesn't take chances with security.
The transport settles into the bay with barely a jolt. I go through the shutdown sequence, then head back to wake the others.
Daisy is already stirring when I enter the sleeping quarters, her green eyes blinking sleepily at me.
"We're here?" she asks, her voice still rough from sleep.
”We've docked at Crozan." I move to the boys' bunks and gently shake them awake. "Time to get up."
They come awake instantly, their Andreevan instincts making them alert and ready within seconds, tense and anxious. I'm reminded again of how much they've lost, how their young lives have been shaped by danger and uncertainty.
No more, I vow silently. From now on, they'll know safety and stability.
“Did we reach Crozan?” Davi asks, his eyes bright with curiosity.
"Are we going exploring?" Riz adds eagerly.
"Can we see the marketplace?”
I exchange a glance with Daisy, seeing my own concern reflected in her expression.
"I think it's safer if you boys stay on the ship," I say carefully.
Their faces fall in unison. "But —"
"I know it's disappointing," I interrupt gently. "But Crozan is a trading hub. There are all kinds of beings here, and not all of them are trustworthy. Andreevan telepaths are valuable. I can't risk someone trying to take you."
They're silent for a moment, and I can feel them communicating telepathically, debating whether to argue.
Finally, Riz sighs. "You're right. We understand."
"We don't like it," Davi adds. "But we understand."
Their maturity breaks my heart a little. Children shouldn't have to think about being kidnapped and sold. Shouldn't have to weigh the risks of simply walking through a marketplace.
“We'll bring you something back," I promise. "Something interesting from the traders."
That brightens them slightly. "Really?"
"You have to promise to stay on the ship. Lock the hatch behind us and don't open it for anyone except me or Daisy. Understand?"
“Got it," they chorus.
I show them how to activate the transport's internal security systems, making sure they know how to lock the hatches and monitor the external cameras. They're smart boys — they pick it up quickly.
Daisy kneels beside them, her expression serious. "We won't be gone long. But if anything feels wrong, if you sense danger, I want you to reach out to us telepathically. Can you do that?"
They nod solemnly.
"And don't broadcast your thoughts to anyone else," I add. "Keep your shields up unless you're communicating with me or Daisy."
*We will,* they send in unison.
While I ready the stash of Virdathian weaponry we’ll use for trading, I notice Daisy looking down at the leaf garment I made for her, adjusting the fit, and I make a mental note that clothing needs to be first on our supply list.
At the hatch, I pause and turn back to the boys one more time. "Remember —"
"Stay on the ship, keep the hatch locked, shields up, call you if there's trouble," Riz recites.
I activate the hatch, and Daisy and I step out into the docking bay. I then load our trading goods onto a hover cart.
As I shut and lock the hatch, I hear the boys.
*Stop worrying,* Davi sends. *We’re good.*
Daisy and I set off for the market, hover cart following.
The docking bay is exactly as I remember from my visit years ago — smooth walls embedded with veins of crystalline mineral that catch the light, strings of glowing orbs overhead providing warm amber illumination.
The air smells of exotic spices and the thousand different scents that come from having dozens of alien species in close proximity.
Daisy's eyes are wide as she takes it all in. "It's incredible," she breathes.
"Stay close to me," I tell her, offering my arm. "And try not to make eye contact with anyone who looks dangerous."
"How do I know who looks dangerous?"
"Assume everyone is dangerous until proven otherwise."
She slides her hand into the crook of my elbow, and I feel an absurd surge of possessive pride. Let anyone try to touch her. Let them try.
We follow the corridor toward the main marketplace, joining the flow of beings heading in the same direction. I see Verrans with their green skin and acrobatic grace, a group of Javardians chattering among themselves, a lone Griverran hunched over and hurrying past.
And then we emerge into the marketplace itself.