Chapter 4
Haven
Ah, it was the Captain. The gray male was shorter than Vytln, but stood in front of him, and his aura was far more dangerous.
The Big Guy was just angry and loud, and the burning of the cracks through his body and in his eyes made him seem more fiery.
But the captain had a quiet, stern, stoic sort of vibe that was all the more intimidating for its subtlety.
But Haven also knew that he wasn’t a bad guy.
Well, not in that way. He would quickly figure out that she wasn’t a threat to him, and then he wouldn’t be a threat to her.
At worst, they would drop her off on the nearest space station, and she’d lose her friend Grace, but he wouldn’t hurt her. No more than any of the others would.
Haven was a vagabond. She always had been.
Moving from one place to another, chasing after her curiosity.
She’d certainly miss the Humility. This was probably the best home she’d ever had.
Even if she was squirreled away in the walls.
She’d learned so much, had so much fun, and she enjoyed everyone on this ship. She didn’t want to leave.
But she lost this grand game of hide and seek. She couldn’t say that they’d be wrong when they kicked her off. She’d just have to restart again. No matter how sad it was.
However, she couldn’t do anything until someone let her out of this comfortable nest. She had to gather all the cushions that were inside to make something like a fluffy ladder that even allowed her to get up to the hole without sliding down the smooth ramp.
She definitely wouldn’t be able to get out until one of the others let her.
So, she just hung there, socked feet on the pillows – she’d taken off her shoes so she didn’t get the pretty satin dirty – waiting for them to decide her fate.
They were speaking in rapid Standard – the official language that bonded all Coalition planets.
It was a language she had picked up and learned by exposure and attempts to learn through the subnet connection she’d managed to forge.
She was fluent enough to understand others without much issue, though she knew her own ability to speak was weak.
Not helped by the fact that she didn’t get to speak with anyone but herself, so she never got to practice.
That was probably why her voice was so rough from disuse when she responded to the first, hard question Tanin threw at her.
“Who are you?” He demanded to know, his red eyes narrowing on her.
“Haven Clarkson,” she answered immediately.
“How did you get on my ship, Haven Clarkson?”
“Sneaking.” She said, using two of her fingers to creep along the edge of the opening.
“How?” He repeated, his tone harsh, and she realized he wanted details. Her being here was a security risk that he needed closed. That was fair.
“Down,” she pointed to the floor. “Second trashing chute. Opening for clean. Can forcing open and climbing through. If smallest enough.”
The captain was still glaring at her, but Vytln looked immediately understanding.
“The secondary trash chut,” he said, unwilling admiration in his voice.
“It’s sealed typically, but it opens when the trash is dumped.
The primary trash chute is big, but it’s also protected against anyone using it to enter.
The secondary chute is only big enough for a youngling to fit through, but even if they could, it would be difficult to climb through.
You would need to be strong and flexible enough to get through the chutes, and have some way of getting through the secondary seals that protect against the void when we’re in space in case the outer seal is compromised. ”
Haven was nodding along with him even before he finished speaking, her smile widening. “Big tight squeezing. But only ashes and small trashing. Not rotted. Got through into storaging room. On Hir-Fallow.”
“And with us all gone, out of the ship, and Alred in hiding, there was no one to stop or see you,” Vytln said, a smirk pulling at his lips as he crossed his arms, like he was reluctantly proud.
“Right? Right,” Haven nodded eagerly, laughing. “No easily, but worthwhile.”
“Alred,” Tanin called out, still looking at her. “Focus on the entrance of Vytln’s trap. What do you see there?”
There was a brief moment of silence. Vytln’s proud smile faded as he narrowed his eyes, reminded again that she was a stowaway. She smiled, resting her head on her hands. Unconcerned. She already knew their fancy artificial person couldn’t see her.
Sure enough-
“I see the trap, captain. The entrance is more narrow than typical, but I see nothing else.”
Tanin’s eyes sharpened on her. Seeing another hole in his security. The fact that Alred could see and hear everything on the ship was an advantage for them. It helped keep them safe. If she could sneak around him, then others could as well, and that was a threat.
She giggled wickedly. “No telling.”
They were not amused by her secret, but she was going to keep it. Everything she had built and created had not only kept her safe and protected, but it gave her a strength no one else had. An advantage she wasn’t going to surrender just because they asked.
If they pushed, if they threatened, she’d divulge the secret quickly. She wanted to keep her advantage, but not to her own detriment. But after so long hiding in their walls, she thought she knew these males better than that.
The three of them just looked at each other. Caught in a stalemate where she knew they weren’t going to go to the lengths they needed to get what they wanted, but where she couldn’t actually do anything against them.
It was broken by the door opening again.
This time, it was Tanin’s mate who came in.
The messy, auburn haired girl was red faced, like she’d rushed over, a dirty rag hanging out of the back pocket of her shorts.
Unlike Tanin, she immediately glanced over to the trap, no doubt warned by their AI that there was someone there.
However, even with the warning, she still looked surprised as she came to a halt at Tanin’s side.
“There’s actually a person here,” she muttered.
“Hello,” Haven waved. “Can I getting into out now?”
“Er…” She hesitated.
“No.” Vytln said immediately. Earning a look from Tanin. The captain should be the one making those decisions, not him. And he must have known immediately, because he flinched, lowering his eyes. “I apologize, captain. But… I can’t…”
Did he not know how or something, she wondered, head cocked to the side.
“Why not?” Tanin’s mate – Garnet, Haven was sure her name was – asked, concerned. “She’s… How is she even here right now?”
“Stowed away,” Tanin said simply. “That is Vytln’s mating trap. Anyone who gets caught in that will immediately trigger his mating instincts.”
“Oh…” Garnet said. Just that. Oh.
“Eh?” Haven said, her mouth dropping.
His mating trap? This was a trap meant for mating? Haven just thought he was trying to catch her and had just gone out of his way to make the biggest, most inescapable trap possible. But…
Turning her head, she looked back into the trap. At the nest she’d disturbed to give herself this pillow pedestal to keep her up. She saw it in a new light. The proper light.
It wasn’t just a soft consideration for her. It was because he had made it for his mate.
Haven didn’t really understand the concept of mates. She understood romance, of course. She had never been particularly interested in the men who had attempted to seduce her. They were not nearly interesting enough to catch her attention, much less keep it.
The people of the Coalition didn’t rely on dating so much.
Instead, they were out there searching for their mate.
In whatever weird, specific, or unfortunate way that manifested.
Haven didn’t pay much attention to it, as she was more interested in learning and satisfying her curiosity.
But she did know that, for a lot of them, the process was completely against their will and often involved a trigger that was wholly out of their control.
It was interesting, but like a fun fact that she would appreciate and promptly forget.
She didn’t like the squishy sciences. They were so inconsistent and unreliable and boring compared to engineering and math – which were far more reliable.
Maybe she should have paid a bit more attention. Because what was a mating trap?
And how did she get out of it?