Epilogue
Tiny Shoes
Fia was not fond of enduring more meetings, but there was important work to be done.
The Federation’s reaction had been too sluggish, too cautious, and Heliovor had exploited their low expectations.
It wasn’t easy, but they wrested control of the Tau Ceti system gate away from Sol in the intervening nine months since the destruction of the Karnel.
After they lost the gate, the Federation committed to a full system-wide retreat, fleeing back to their base of operations to regroup.
Without the gate, it would be years before they could form a proper retaliation. Even at near-light speed, travel between the Sol star system and Tau Ceti took upwards of ten years. They had bought themselves a single decade to breathe and prepare.
That would be enough time. It would have to be.
The shake-up meant that just about every corner of the Tau Ceti economy, from the legitimate to the seedy criminal underbelly, was scrambling to get back to normalcy in the power vacuum left behind.
Pivoting from assault teams to supply lines was not how she thought this war would go, but it was a battlefield in which Davik was absolutely thriving. While he wasn’t interested in jumping into active skirmishes, being a logistics engineer suited him beautifully.
Seeing him buttoned up in a sleek silver-trimmed uniform was also a damn fine sight. However, tearing the uniform off him in her officer’s quarters was far preferable to attending the endless meetings they were both scheduled for.
Still, she loved watching him work. Watching his brows furrow when he was exchanging updates with the other outposts, watching the way he would hold a stylus between his teeth when he was concentrating. She could swear she could almost see the gears turning in his head sometimes.
“Davik Yerevan?”
Fia and Davik both turned to greet the ensign in the doorway as he looked around the room to find the man in question.
“Your shuttle is ready, sir.”
Davik shook his head and sighed. “I’m never going to get used to being called ‘sir’.” With a weary chuckle, he turned back to the screen to address the captain he was talking logistics with. “Alright, ping me if you have questions, Barlen.”
She stole a kiss once the video feed closed, linking hands with his as they followed the ensign to the shuttle bay.
“What is a suitable gift for a one-year-old?” she asked as they walked across the gantry towards their awaiting craft. “Maybe … tiny shoes?”
He snorted. “Tiny, tiny shoes. Socks would be better. I don’t think Leah is walking just yet.”
The last time they had visited Carissa and Marius had been several months ago, not long after the destruction of the Karnel.
They visited under the guise of being regular cargo haulers, as the initial reaction by most stations was not to welcome Heliovor with open arms. It had been the better part of a year now, though, and they had a more amicable standing with most of the medium to low sec regions in the system.
While nobody enjoyed living in uncertainty, it was a lot easier to garner goodwill if you were the one bringing aid and supplies. How long they could maintain those supply lines, though, was questionable.
That was a matter of logistics and diplomacy.
Not quite Fia’s wheelhouse. Untangling, decrypting, and declassifying Federation records for public release, though, was more within her realm.
That was going swimmingly. Though sometimes what they unearthed, she wished she could scrub from her own memory.
The cruel depths of corruption were haunting, but she shook out of that train of thought the moment Davik opened the shuttle door for her.
“What a gentleman,” she murmured.
He closed the door behind her, and they set their trajectory.
“Hmm,” he hummed as he looked at the screen with an intense, thoughtful glance. “Estimated time of arrival at the station, thirty minutes.” His brow quirked up, and she spied that single dimple of his appearing with his devious smile. “There’s no cameras in here, right?”
“Would it dissuade you if there were?” she asked as she slid her fingers to the clasps on the front of her suit, watching his eyes track her movement greedily.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”
When they arrived at Marius and Carissa’s abode, Fia had her arms full of gifts.
A few were from them, but Theos had sent a bulleted and annotated list of supplies they were instructed to pick up on his behalf.
All developmentally appropriate gifts for the soon-to-be one year old.
Toys, fruits, and an exceptionally expensive stroller.
“Oh my God, Dav, you didn’t need to buy out the entire shop!” Carissa cackled as they opened the door.
“Theos’ orders, I’m just passing along the goods,” Davik said with a smile. “Where’s Marius?”
“Ah, he’s lying down with the sprout. He took her out for a daddy-daughter birthday brunch, so now both of them are tuckered out,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Figures, but I’ll not look a gift horse in the mouth. C’mon, you two, sit, sit. Dav, tell me all about this new job of yours.”
They settled in, and Fia sank into happy, calm familiarity.
The three of them, around a small table, in a cramped but love-filled home. If only there were a loud whirring ship engine beneath their feet, it would feel just like their days on The Argent. The world was chaotic, the future was uncertain, but in this moment, everything felt right.
Davik’s hand found hers as he caught up with Carissa, and they exchanged a little squeeze. Her other hand was in her pocket, nervously twiddling with a small velvet box.
Hours had passed, the teapot had been refilled thrice, and the little lady of the hour had finally arisen from her slumber. Leah had already gotten so big. Although Fia’s grasp of human infancy was limited.
Was this abnormally large for a one-year-old child? Or are humans exceptionally quick to mature?
The sleepyhead with golden ringlets had sufficiently distracted both Davik and Carissa. Fia grabbed the teapot and gestured to Marius.
“Marius, could you remind me how to work your kettle?”
It was the best lie she could come up with, but it seemed to be effective enough. Apparently, the rumors of her catastrophic skills in the kitchen preceded her, and Davik’s brother jumped at the chance to show her how not to burn their home down.
“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.”
Their kitchen was a narrow thing with dozens of pictures and mementos plastered on the cabinets, and Fia found one picture that was of Davik and Marius with what must have been their parents.
“You two looked almost identical when you were children,” Fia said with a chuckle.
“Oh God, you’ve no idea. Mom would call me by the wrong name on the daily. Swear, she was doing it on purpose when we grew up, but honestly, who knows?” he said with a laugh. “Alright, so, the kettle—”
Fia shook her head and made a little shushing motion, and Marius quirked a brow. She took a step closer to him and pulled the small blue velvet box from her pocket.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto the item in her palm. “Really?”
Fia nodded. “I heard it was the custom to ask permission from a guardian, and you and Carissa are the closest thing he has to that. And I—”
Marius scooped her up in his massive arms and spun around the kitchen. She let out a grunt as all the air was shunted from her lungs. She might be amphibious, but that did little to help her breathe above water with her ribs caught in a vice of augmented biceps.
“Mar—! Air!” she tried to whisper-shout.
He set her down and did an excited little clapping motion, without actually connecting his hands together.
“When—?!” he started with a bit too much enthusiasm, then froze and lowered his voice. “When are you going to ask?”
“Soon, but asking him was contingent on your blessing, yours and Carissa’s. If that … is that a yes?” she asked, laughing half from nerves and half in glee. “I know it is soon, but I know what he means to me. I just hope he feels the same.”
Marius rolled his eyes. “God, if you don’t ask, he’s gonna beat you to it. Of course, we approve. C and I have a rolling bet on when you two were gonna send us some comms giving the big news.” He grinned widely. “Looks like I won the bet.”
Fia bit back a laugh and tucked the box away.
“I do not know if it is a relief to be seen as predictable, but that is a much more preferable outcome to your lambasting me for stealing your brother away.”
“God, please do. And we really need to make that tea before your lovebird worries you’ve accidentally poisoned yourself or something and comes in here. C’mon.”