4. Chapter Four

6days, 14 hours, 19 minutes EST remaining Mari really should try to contain her smirk while she was around Crey. He'd displayed no horror after killing Thalarins, but closing his eyes while kissing had damned near blown his mind.

She shouldn't be proud.

She was. She was a badass, sexy xenobotanist who'd managed to seduce a Gaiian into closing his eyes. Too bad that didn't sound brag-worthy. If it did, she'd be shouting on the streets of Bogarta about Crey closing his eyes and sending coms to her friends, bragging it up.

Juggling the plates of waffles in her hands, she navigated the ship's corridors while trying to smother her smirk and work out a greeting which didn't come off as smug. "Well, hello there" had definite smuggy shade.

Last night, Crey had used one of the few Spanish words Mari knew—corazón. Crey had called her "his heart." He'd strayed into nonfactual endearments with that one.

What about "hey there" without a smile? That might work. If she didn't smile.

Mari had almost reached the ship's bridge when the floor beneath her feet vibrated, and the hull screeched against a rough surface. It felt like they were going backward. Had she gotten turned around in the ship? No, she was definitely headed the right direction. Another short screech came from the hull. It was like they were crashing slowly. Mari had the presence of mind to flip one plate of waffles over the other and enclose their breakfast in what looked like a Tun'Essen's flying saucer. She wouldn't be flinging waffles around during a crash. Hah!

"Brace yourself," Crey called from the bridge.

Mari searched around frantically. There was nothing here to brace herself on. It was a corridor. Okay. Okay. She'd carefully distribute her weight—that way, if she did get thrown around, it'd be less detrimental to her physically. Quickly lying on the floor, Mari held the flying saucer of waffles in front of her, while splaying her legs. She pressed her cheek against the floor. Hopefully, the floor had gone through a cleansing cycle recently.

Were they about to die?

Was this the end?

The screeching stopped. The entire ship dropped and, then, the ship's engine and lights cut off.

Mari waited in the dark. Her muscles tensed as she listened for the next possible crisis.

Crey's booted footsteps thudded in the corridor. He appeared with his databand aglow. Crey stopped and stared.

While she'd lifted her head at his approach, Mari still held the waffles like a sacrificial offering. That wasn't the sole reason Mari had to be mortified. Hells no. She went after everything full tilt, even embarrassment. She had decided, much to her own bafflement, to wear a dress she'd hastily packed. The hem rested around her upper thighs, and the metal flooring was chilly where it pressed against her skin. She was ridiculous.

"This is…interesting," Crey said, his voice laced with amusement.

Mari lifted the dish. "I brought you waffles." Now, it really appeared as if she'd come to lay an offering at his feet. Well, that solved the "not-too-smug" greeting dilemma.

Crey lifted the plates from her grasp. "Is this a customary bracing position on your ship, and do you require help?"

"No and no." She got to her feet and tugged the dress into place.

Why had she worn a dress? She'd pulled this mauve dress, never worn and impractical, out of her closet's hidden depths and thrown the bagged item into her pack. The dress was intended for the occasional business dinner soliciting grants, which kept the exploratory ship flying, but it was so not her. Sure, she'd twirled in the dress, letting it flow around her, and felt, well, pretty, but the damn thing only fell to her knees. Plus, it was pink, Crey's favorite color. Wearing a pink dress was hella obvious, now that her smugness had been left behind on the floor. What had she been thinking?

Raising her head, Mari met Crey's gaze…or she would have if he wasn't busy checking out her legs with a raw hungry look. Her smugness returned. "Did we crash?" she asked, recalling his attention.

"No. I had been following your progress through the ship. However, my attention to our landing grew critical while you were in the food replication room. I assumed you would be sitting to eat. You vary your preferences seemingly erratically." He held up the waffle-saucer.

"I thought we could eat our waffles together."

Crey nodded, once again distracted by her legs.

Mari grabbed his wrist. "Crey, what's up with the ship's power? Are we at the escape planet?" That was too harsh a landing to be the Gaiian's typical process, but maybe the landing gear malfunctioned.

"No. We are nowhere currently—an unnamed asteroid."

"You landed on an asteroid?"

"Not precisely. There was no time. Come." Crey clasped her hand and led Mari to the bridge.

The viewscreen displayed a dense asteroid field. A few specks in the distance might be planets, but thousands of scattered asteroids surrounded them on all sides. Some were the size of a person, but other asteroids were several times the size of Crey's ship.

Asteroids didn't actually do this, even Mari knew that. Any sizable asteroids should have broken the others to bits.

"Where are we?" she asked

"The remains of the dwarf planet Laris-22. It was a mining planet. The asteroids' dense metals prevent them from breaking apart, and they are bound together by a gravity simulator. According to Allegiance records, when the Laris Mining Corporation declared the planet stripped of all usable metals, they destroyed Laris-22 to prevent anyone from landing on it. The ore extraction process had supposedly caused harmful radiation. The Allegiance required them to provide a gravity simulator until the mining company could confirm any contaminants left behind would not cause problems should they crash into neighboring planets."

"And, we're here? Crey, radiation kills Earthens."

"It is safe, Mari. Laris is a Gaiian corporation. We desired a long asteroid belt, which we could trick our enemies into entering, should they follow us. Rumored radiation provided a reason to use an artificial gravitational field, accomplishing our goal. Any Gaiian piloting a ship has trained here. It is what Earthens call "fun" to fly swiftly through and yet live." Crey shrugged. "Not all survive. They were not meant to create future generations through bonds blessed by the Greater Beings."

That was a bit darker than most piloting programs.

"You've flown through here?"

Crey was undeniably skilled in flying. Passing the Allegiance's captain's exams, without building the skills and achievement points through their program, was unheard of—as in Mari had never actually heard of anyone attempting to test through. It was theoretically possible, but simultaneously considered impossible. The test was offered, but it was also laughable for anyone to skip the Allegiance training and take it.

In Mari's increasingly intimate experience with the race, Gaiians didn't consider much to be laughable or impossible.

"I have flown through here many times," Crey said. "I hold honorable notations."

"Honorable notations? Oh, you mean records? For like the fastest time?"

"No. That honor belongs to Nathe. I have lured the highest number of our enemies into the Laris field. Admittedly, I have been the most frequently chased, but I have also been lauded for the most cunning use of explosive mines."

"Will those stories horrify me?"

"Most likely."

"Hm." The view was fascinating. Mari kept the botany lab's window covered while they were in open space. She'd get lost in the majesty of "the heavens" and never get anything done. Ancient Earthens were said to have stared up at the stars, and they didn't know the wonders that were out there. She did, and Mari needed to be exploring it. Exploration was in her blood—it was her blood. She had spent many stationary years on various planets, studying for her degree and gathering experience doing internships. When she was stuck on a planet, she would gaze up at the stars every night and dream of returning to space.

Currently, the only thing on the viewscreen was the artificial asteroid belt. "Wait, are we inside an asteroid?"

"Yes. I backed in. I would do the same in a port I anticipated leaving swiftly. We are in an asteroid's crater."

That explained the feeling they were going in reverse and the screeching. Hells, he'd most likely done a first-class job backing into a crater.

"Why did we land inside a crater?" The exploratory ship had never stopped on an asteroid, but there was also more than one person able to pilot the ship. Maybe he needed to sleep or a break.

Crey's expression grew predatory. "We are luring in our enemy."

"Oh."

They stopped beside the front seats on the bridge, and moved to their respective chairs. The chill and noticeable sensation of absence when Crey released her hand almost made her protest, but they had things to do and waffles to eat.

Before sitting, Mari unzipped a hidden side pocket in the dress's flowing skirt and pulled out eating utensils. Her other hidden pocket held her new saber, just in case. Hells, she was thinking like Crey now—being proactive for the dangers that lurked around every corner.

As she straightened with the silverware, Mari noticed, this time, it was her gaping bodice that had Crey wide-eyed. Oops. Pressing a hand against her bodice, she dropped onto the seat after rotating it toward Crey. "Not practical attire, I know."

Her stunned-looking Gaiian handed Mari the plates and sat facing her.

"Can't collect samples in a dress." She set the plates on her lap. "Can't fight off Pilfers in a dress. Now, we're hiding in an asteroid, which explanation will probably lead to an adventure that won't make sense for a dress either. I can change. I can go to my room and change."

As soon as he sat, Crey leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Any rotation that you desire to wear a dress, I will ensure you can safely do so."

"Because you think I should be able to wear whatever I want?"

"Yes. That." He shook his head. "Moreover, you look…" Crey gestured.

Mari smiled and spread the skirt on the seat. "I look…?"

"You look like someone I would fight all of Bogarta just to stand beside."

Mari's smile was permanent. It was never going away. "This dress is not completely impractical. It has hidden pockets. Plus, the short length makes it easier to show off one of my tattoos."

"One of your tattoos?" Crey's eyes devoured her.

"Yes, I'll show you after we eat waffles." Flipping the top plate, she slid a waffle onto it, along with a syrup pod. Mari handed the plate and a utensil to Crey, but didn't release it into his hands. "Are you safe to eat right now?"

"We are safe. I have made plans." He accepted the proffered waffles and lifted the syrup pod to scrutinize it.

"You flip up the top and squeeze the syrup inside all over the waffle."

Crey flipped the top open and sniffed the syrup. "It smells sweet."

"Syrup is sweet, but also delicious. You'll like it. Promise."

"I do not believe I care for sweet tastes," he said warily before adding, "aside from you."

"Aside from me?" Was this another attempt at an endearment?

"You taste sweet—your mouth does. Your mouth tastes sweet, and it is very arousing."

That raised the temperature in the room.

Crey watched her and nodded. "You look good in my favorite color."

"Are you referring to my dress or the perpetual blush I now wear on my cheeks?"

Crey shrugged as he squeezed the syrup over his waffle. "Both. Both are my favorite."

"Hm." She sent him a faux glare, which her Gaiian missed because he was sniffing a piece of waffle. Mari squeezed syrup over her own waffle and picked up her fork to dig in.

"Mmm," Crey said on a low groan, after taking a bite.

"I knew you'd like waffles."

"I like your taste better. This is second."

Always good for your self-esteem when you came out ahead of waffles. "Now, explain what we're doing with our backend stuck in a crater."

"We were being hunted. The dark-cursed creature thought he could cloak beyond my scanners' capabilities. Hah, as Earthens say. My scanning monitors were updated three passes ago to pay a bounty hunter's debt. Furthermore, he assumed our ship does not monitor all its own outgoing relays. Fool."

"I don't understand what that last part means. And, how is he following us?"

"A tracker. I noted the remote transmissions from the tracker to their receiver quite some time ago. It would send an updated location each time we passed a relay or satellite." He snarled under his breath. "When I find the trookt smag who placed the tracker, I will carve them into unrecognizable pieces."

Mari swallowed her bite of waffle with some difficulty. "Can we hold off on the ‘carving up our enemies' talk until after we've eaten?"

Crey grunted his assent and continued eating with gusto. She should have replicated him a plate stacked with waffles. Admittedly, Crey might not have enough time to chew a huge stack of waffles. She really was starting to think like him.

"Wouldn't he still be tracking us even with the ship powered off?" Mari asked.

"I destroyed the tracking device shortly after entering the asteroid field. We are outside of open satellites and relays. If I had not removed it from the outside hull and destroyed it, the tracker might have sent short-range transmissions to the corresponding monitor when it was in close proximity."

Mari paused with a waffle piece halfway to her mouth. "Wait, while I was sleeping, you've been luring in an enemy ship and searched the ship's outside hull for a tracking device?"

"Yes."

"Did you stop the ship to do that?"

Crey's expression was baffled. "The ship's shield forms a barrier, which nullifies the need for stopping."

Unreal. "You even found a place to lie in wait for your adversary."

"Our adversary. We are together. He is your enemy too."

"Thanks. That's so sweet to feel included."

"Sarcasm?"

"Yes," Mari said. Instead of hostile in-laws, she got enemies. She glanced at her databand. She hadn't even known Crey a full day yet.

"I was able to accomplish all these endeavors due to the extended length of your sleep cycle." Crey finished his waffle and set the plate aside. He examined his fingers, frowning. "I have syrup on my fingers. It is as you said, the best food is messy." He pulled his fingers apart and, then, stuck them back together. "This syrup is similar in many characteristics to the sap of a tree."

"That's because syrup is from a tree—or, at least, that's where it was originally from. I don't know what replicated syrup is made from."

"Only Earthens and Pilfers would think to suck the sap from trees."

Mari pointed her fork at Crey. "Don't you lump me in with Pilfers. You know how I feel about them."

"Indeed." Crey abandoned his inspection of the syrup and wiped his hands on a cloth. "You like kicking them in their sexual organs until they hemorrhage internally. I prefer to snap their necks or remove their heads with my sword. Quicker."

"I kicked them in their sexual organs?" Ew.

"Yes. It was an effective method to deliver vengeance. Though we were newly-bonded, I was proud of your ferocious spirit and felt blessed the Greater Beings had drawn me to you."

"I can't believe I did that." She didn't research where other race's sexual organs were located. Mari left that to the specializing xenozoologist.

"I would not lie to you. You were impressively vicious. The hissing and crackling sound was the blood flooding from their abdomen into their thorax causing their segments to burst from internal pressure."

That was a pleasant visual. There had been crackling and hissing noises. She'd assumed they were making those noises to intimidate her. Mari set her fork on her plate, beside her unfinished waffle.

"You are done eating?" Crey stared at the remainder of her breakfast.

Mari passed the rest of her waffle to him. At least someone could enjoy her waffle—someone who wasn't thinking about hemorrhaging insect people she'd kicked to death by puncturing their…, uh, whatever it was Pilfers had in sexual organs. This didn't take away from Mari's assertion she was a badass xenobotanist. She was. She was also a person who preferred not to have shoved her foot through a bug-dude's nads unintentionally.

Her gaze dropped to her boots. Thankfully, anti-grav mag boots wore out frequently. Several times a year, the amount of charge needed to counteract gravity fluctuations exhausted their batteries beyond replenishment, despite gravitational technology "normalizing" many planets. Of course the Beagle went to a great number of planets without technology or terraforming. These might be ass-kicking boots, but they weren't the same nad-kicking boots. There was that.

"I like this," Crey said. He drew Mari's attention away from her contemplation of how well she'd cleaned her nad-kicking boots before walking all over the Beagle-2230. "It is inefficient and not conducive to swift reaction times, but I believe that is an acceptable trade."

"Waffles?" Mari had, after all, attempted to save the waffles in the corridor earlier. That hesitation had risked her life. Waffles were damn deliciously inefficient.

Crey set her empty plate on top of his. "Eating meals together amid the exchange of thoughts. The pleasure derived from eating and the diversion of conversation has detracted from my vengeful planning. However, this is a simple trap."

"Not everyone needs to save room in their heads for vengeful planning over breakfast."

"Those who do eat this breakfast are likely unaware of the need. It does explain why few Earthens survive fights which erupt in Gaiian bars where food is served. They are too distracted and vulnerable while eating to plan accordingly."

"Do all Gaiians plan as much as you do?"

"Not to the extent that I do—no. Nathe trusts in his ability to react swiftly. Thankfully, you are relying on me and not him. You have attracted conflict from the moment we met. Moreover, your emotional reactions would likely prevent Nathe from responding to such danger quickly." He glanced at her. "While this is typical of your race, they are also often emotional and attract conflict, more efforts by our enemies will be focused in your direction."

"I'm both an exceptional and unexceptional Earthen. But, yeah, we're all sloppy with emotions and danger magnets."

"Danger magnet," Crey repeated. "Yes, that is a good way to describe you, Mari. You are my danger magnet. In Gaiian, that is a ‘mehthin taugh.' You are my ‘mehthin taugh.' It is an endearment that is factual." His databand pinged. "Ahh, our enemy approaches, my mehthin taugh. We will have an excellent hunt now." He sent her a look. "Do not think I have forgotten your promise of a tattoo. After the hunt."

Crey could bring the heat to the forefront in an Earthen second.

"After the hunt," she agreed.

He nodded. "Fasten your restraints, my Earthen. Dislodging the ship may cause some physical disturbance in our stability."

Buckle up—it was about to get bumpy!

And, she was here for it—because she was a badass xenobotanist.

Mari hurriedly fastened her seat's restraints.

Was a Gaiian inventing the endearment "danger magnet" romantic?

Yes. It definitely was.

As his anticipation for tracking and destroying an enemy built, a new set of "feelings" developed, all regarding the woman beside him. Crey could let this ship pass. He could stay here in this asteroid and not risk his intended.

Even if this Thalarin continued on to the escape planet, he would probably trigger one of the many traps in the dark system. Should their enemy avoid the traps successfully, the planet's defenses would detect the invader and respond accordingly.

They could stay here. Safe. This was not a tactic Crey had ever considered, but remaining concealed would be their least perilous option.

Crey glanced at Mari. What was Mari doing to him that he was considering letting their enemy go?

Biting her lower lip, Mari leaned forward as far as the restraints would allow. She peered intently at the viewscreen, already engaged in the hunt. "If you need me to fire weapons, I can do that."

"We could allow them to pass and remain here."

Mari rolled her eyes.

His sister did that. Neva rolled her eyes frequently to show her disdain. She had picked this up in Bogarta from the type of Earthens able to survive the port. Perhaps Mari was as badass as she said.

"Don't coddle me when we can go kick some ass." Mari gestured at the instrument panel. "Is there a button I can push vigorously to shoot them, without endangering our lives by doing so?"

Crey leaned over. "That one. However, it is for short range; you must wait until we are close."

"I'll wait until you yell ‘fire.'"

"Why would I yell? Is that an Earthen peculiarity?" She was nearby, and yelling could potentially startle her or divert Crey's attention from his control panel's alerts.

She waved a hand at him, as if this was an explanation.

It was not.

A quiet beep sounded—one which he would not have heard if he was yelling. Crey shook off his distraction. The hunt. The hunt was on. It was time to take revenge for his people. "He has passed the last of the tracers I set."

"Okay. Let's go blow him and his ship out of existence."

"The remaining ship's pieces, which will be various sizes, will drift here within the artificial gravity until such a time as the asteroids crush them completely." Crey did not want Mari disappointed with this hunt's conclusion.

The ship passed and slowed.

Had he missed a tracker on his ship? Crey had gone over the entire ship with his detection equipment, despite the unlikelihood of anyone entering inside his ship to plant a tracker.

The ship had not identified outgoing transmissions from an additional tracker.

"He's scanning the asteroids. How well are we cloaked?" Mari asked.

"Very well. Provided I did not miss a tracker." Damnation. Plague take it—if he had missed a tracker and endangered his intended…

"You didn't. He's continuing on. I'm assuming proximity would improve short-range relays from a tracker to his ship, making them stronger?"

"Yes."

The ship was moving on.

This doubt in his abilities was new and unwelcome. Mari's presence necessitated a higher level of conviction that he was taking the best path. The bond's benefits and her presence in his life certainly outweighed the negative connotations—the very few negative connotations. He would simply have to adapt and adjust. Also, exposure to Mari would hone his instinctual reactions to danger levels—presumably.

Mari hummed to herself. "I'm ready when you are to attack his ship. Well, their ship." She frowned. "Do Thalarins ever have female pilots?"

"No. Thalarins rarely allow their women to leave the planet. They would never allow them piloting instruction, nor would they own a ship. Their women are subjugated and strictly controlled."

"Sexist bastards," his Earthen said vehemently.

"It is unlikely they are bastards. Infidelity of females within their race is punishable by death. Additionally, the offspring of interspecies matings with Thalarin males, which is rarely consensual, are not allowed to survive."

"Wow, just when I think I can't hate them more, they raise the bar on despicable." Mari was growing more invigorated, and it brought a glow to her features. Her passion reminded him of their intimacy after the misunderstanding—with less crying, and, this time, she was calling Thalarins disparaging names.

He had meant to research if there was an article of clothing called an asshat.

Crey frowned. He was usually more focused than this. Typically, his focus was solely on a hunt. His eyes drifted to her legs—again.

"Stop checking me out and focus," his intended said, catching his gaze. "I want to push my button."

"Yes." He should concentrate. Crey forcibly returned his attention to the instrument panel and their enemy's ship. "We will allow him to reach a distance where he will not detect our heat signature and then proceed."

His intended let out a low laugh. "And, we'll sneak up and blow them into oblivion." Mari raised the hand not poised above the button and waved it around in that Earthen way of hers. "It's an expression."

"Earthens use an abundant amount of expressions." He had learned many from his reading. Crey would learn more.

"Yeah, yeah." Her entire body tensed. "What is with that engine rocket thing firing up on his ship?"

"Our subterfuge has been too effective, and he is intending to exit the asteroid field as quickly as possible. It is probable he intends to reach the dwarf planet first, so he may lay in wait." Their current strategy would have netted them no gain, but it also did not endanger Mari in any way.

"Oh, hells no. Go get him, Crey."

"Very well, mehthin taugh. We will give chase." Crey powered up the ship and exited the crater with as minimal damage to the hull as possible.

Mari tapped on her viewscreen, accessing the rear monitors. She gasped. "That's where you wedged us in? That couldn't have been much bigger than our ship."

"Making it ideal," Crey agreed.

As they neared the Thalarin ship, its monitoring detected them, setting off alerts. Rather than turning and firing, the pilot sped forward. Fool. Their reverse-facing weaponry was not as strong, which made turning preferable. Crey would have turned and attacked swiftly, but Thalarins were not as cunning or skilled as him. A Thalarin would not anticipate a break in their prey's shield, created by a launched missile, and fire upon them, as Crey had done the previous rotation. No, Thalarins would send a barrage of energy beams at a ship, their preferred weapon, that any Gaiian's advanced shields would absorb, until they were in range to fire their missiles.

If any Thalarins survived fights with Gaiians, they would improve their strategies for battling a race on their level. They were too accustomed to destroying races weaker than their own. This was another reason why Gaiians relished the chance to kill Thalarins—one did not torment and terminate inherently weaker creatures, if unprovoked. If Thalarins had not abandoned the teachings of the Greater Beings, they would know that.

"Get him, get him, get him," his intended muttered.

Crey shook his head, amused. They closed in on the Thalarin ship. He was tempted to open a short-range com channel to reprimand their strategy. His enemies typically spent the last few shifts of their lives greatly offended when he did that. However, the asteroid field's high metal content would most likely create problems in transmission.

Furthermore, Crey anticipated Mari would also desire to taunt the other pilot. She relished shouting insults, more so than any other Earthen he had encountered. While it was unlikely their enemy was able to access long-distance relay transmission channels to contact other Thalarins, Crey was not taking chances with his intended.

"Are we close enough to fire?" Mari asked.

The laser blasts he had given her control over were able to penetrate the tuned waves of Crey's own shield, without requiring a break. Lasers would also be as ineffectual as the Thalarin's energy beams at penetrating a ship's shield, but Crey could deny his Earthen nothing. He was gaining on the Thalarin ship. Soon, Crey would launch an assault on the Thalarin's shield. Perhaps, when the shield was down, and the ship had taken damage, Crey would allow Mari to fire the terminating shot.

"Penetrating his shield will be a challenge," he warned, "but you may try." Crey stated this all at a reasonable volume—with a pointed look.

Hopefully, she would understand yelling was unnecessary.

Mari fired. As expected, the laser blast failed to penetrate the shield. She muttered several Earthen profanities under her breath. His intended fired again. The Thalarin altered his course to avoid an asteroid just before Mari's blast hit that asteroid, sending it spinning. Crey swerved to avoid the asteroid, as well as others already in his path.

Her chaos created a new and exciting element to their pursuit, which Crey had not anticipated. It might enliven an otherwise mediocre hunt. Crey would now have to avoid asteroids his Earthen was spinning into his path. How invigorating.

Mari spun another asteroid into their path. "Sorry."

"No apologies necessary. I find it exciting."

His intended exhaled a short laugh. "Okay, but, how do I aim? There has to be a way to aim so my shot won't go straight ahead."

Leaning across, while continuing to steer, Crey gave her succinct instructions on how to control the surge strength and vertical and horizontal aim. Additionally, he activated a holographic targeting system, which only she could see.

"Awesome," Mari breathed out.

Her enthusiasm was pleasing. She was vicious like a Gaiian.

As Crey returned his hand to his own controls, she said, "If you were anyone else, I would have been shrieking to keep your hands on the wheel since we're in the middle of an asteroid field."

"Up until you began firing, this was an utterly predictable experience. It is dull once again. Fire away." He used a normal and appropriate volume when saying "fire."

"If not for your obvious enjoyment, I might be insulted at the suggestion I'm this wild variable outside of your control."

"Wild variable." He nodded. "Another factual descriptor of you. That is ‘nopha lau'nen' in Gaiian. I have found two true endearments for you. This is easier than expected. You are a nopha lau'nen, as well as a mehthin taugh."

"Oh, sweetie, stop with the sexy ‘danger magnet' talk. It's distracting."

Her sarcasm made him smile, as did her calling him "sweetie" in Earthen English.

"Okay, let's kick some butts." She shifted back and forth in her chair, as if to settle deeper.

"An expression." Crey was learning the strange ways of the Earthen.

Mari fired, sending a nearby asteroid spinning.

Crey tilted his head, but said nothing. Her aim was not improved by having control. She had hit an asteroid beside the Thalarin's ship, despite their enemy being straight ahead. This was not a problem; they would improve her aim through practice. He would enjoy teaching her.

"Not yet," Mari murmured. "Not yet." Her focus was entirely on the targeting system. "Not yet."

Both ships were nearing the edge of the asteroid field. Crey was loathe to cut short Mari's "fun." They had a few shifts left in the asteroids. He could wait to fire missiles annihilating their enemy.

"Ohhhh, that's a good one. That's perfect." She fired. Her shot missed the ship entirely. The laser blast hit the outside of a large asteroid their enemy was approaching.

She was getting worse. How was Mari getting worse?

Crey glanced at her.

Her eyes widened, and Mari yelled, "Ohshitohshitohshit, pull up or down or something fast!"

Crey reacted immediately, pulling up as requested, and returned his attention to the viewscreen. Damnation, as the Earthens said. He watched with his mouth partially open.

Was ever a Gaiian so blessed?

No. Never.

Mari's blast had spun the asteroid into the Thalarin ship, crumpling the starboard wing. The imbalance spiraled the ship into another asteroid as the first continued to smash through it. The Thalarin ship exploded as the impact from the second asteroid ignited the fuel. Metal pieces pinged off their hull as Crey's ship went above the destroyed ship, missing the spinning asteroid, due to her warning.

"Whoa," Mari said, as they both watched the aftermath in the rear viewscreens.

"Indeed. That was remarkable. I will have to tell others. How did you achieve that?"

"Hustling pool. Pool is a game played on a long table with bumpers framing the surface. It also has side and corner pockets. You tap the tip of a stick into a ball to get it to hit other balls into those pockets."

"I have heard of this. We briefly considered bringing Earthen pool to Bogarta, but acknowledged your spindly sticks would be used to impale others in fights, if they were not immediately broken. It is best not to arm those in Bogarta—more than they are already armed, and it is wasteful. We would need a substantial supply of spindly sticks and be frequently disposing of broken ones used as spears."

"I can imagine. Anyway, my parents were driven to explore like me. We went all over, and they would run off, chasing rumored botanical finds. Meanwhile, I would check out the local sights. Pool is played at all the Earthen outposts, and the physics and mathematics of the game appealed to me. I won enough credits over the years, from people who misjudged me, to pay for my undergraduate studies. But, if you hit the ball's outer edge with the tip of your stick, the ball will spin sideways like the asteroid did. I knew from yesterday in the crevice that if you clipped a Thalarin's wing, the whole damn ship spun out of control."

"That was an excellent strategy, nopha lau'nen." He had known she was fierce, but, additionally, she learned quickly and was cunning.

A smile tipped up one edge of her mouth. "Why thank you, sugar." Mari unbuckled her harness and propped a foot on the ship's control panel in the middle of the weaponry systems, which he hurriedly revoked access to. She should not…

Mari unzipped her boot—the action stalling his planned warning.

Any concerns about the fate of the ship's control panel died on his tongue.

Mari's ankle was encircled by orange blossoms. "There you go, tattoo number two. This is my namesake. It's a flower from Old Earth, a marigold."

"How many tattoos do you have?" Crey committed the sight of her exposed leg and tattooed ankle to memory.

"Five, but one covers a lot of skin, because I'm a badass xenobotanist."

"Five?" His voice sounded exceptionally hoarse.

"Five. The other three, though, well, you might be two or three Earthen days from seeing those—entirely." Her voice was also husky with desire.

Five. That meant three more tattoos, possibly in intimate locations.

He nearly crashed the ship into an asteroid.

"What is this called?" Crey asked after taking a bite. The big, strong Gaiian was chewing as if he hoped the food would escape from his mouth.

"Broccoli." It was difficult not to smile at his lackluster expression.

"Broccoli is not as good as pizza or waffles."

"Yes, but broccoli is a vegetable, and vegetables are healthy. See, this proves what I was saying before—taste is often directly proportional to how nutritious a food is." She picked up a piece of broccoli and ate it. Broccoli components stored and, then, replicated certainly didn't help make it more palatable. "Fresh broccoli is slightly better."

"Hmm." He poked at his broccoli like an Earthen kid.

"Look, I'd feel bad if I didn't have you eat some healthy things."

"Why?" Crey dropped his utensil. "The bars I eat are exceptionally nutritious. I should not have to eat this broccoli."

"Are you trying to talk your way out of eating broccoli?"

"It is a fact. An unassailable fact. I do not need to eat broccoli as my bars provide adequate nutritional balance. I do not need to ‘talk my way out of eating broccoli.' I do not need it, and, therefore, I will not eat the broccoli." The snippy self-important way he proclaimed this was a reminder that a "first son" was essentially royalty. We shall not be eating the broccoli.

Mari tsked him. "I bet you were a terror as a toddler."

Crey tilted his head. "I did not understand the sound you made with your mouth or your words."

"I bet you were a challenge to parent—from the second you learned to walk."

Crey shrugged. "Yes. This is a source of pride among Gaiians. The more freethinking and independent children are destined to follow their own path and lead others."

"Wow, what a spin to put on being an ornery child."

"It is true. Independence is celebrated," Crey said. "Up until you take on the responsibility of a mate and children. Then, you are joined to them, and they to you."

The replicator dinged.

Mari rose to retrieve the remainder of their dinner.

"More broccoli?" Crey asked, with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

"No. You'll like this better." Mari split the macaroni and cheese onto two plates.

"A strong possibility. Broccoli tastes like a poisonous plant that is warning you not to eat it."

Mari bit her lips to avoid laughing. His petulance was strangely attractive. Mari handed Crey his plate before sitting herself.

Her Gaiian continued sitting beside her, partly to guard his fragile Earthen more effectively, but that was definitely only a portion of the reason. He frequently looked down at the distance between them in satisfaction, as if quantifying his success. It made her more aware that he wanted her beside him. She had never noticed proximity to this degree while dating anyone else in adulthood. It was like her teenage crush years where she noted each purposefully casual brush of their fingers. Crey's protectiveness and his attempts to court her were making Mari fall fast.

Falling in love with a man professing to be her mate was low risk, her softer side whispered. Mari's analytical side noted she was now essentially being hunted because of this Gaiian, and Crey had upended her life completely. Caution might be warranted.

If Mari wanted her old life back, she could reject Crey, causing him innumerable consequences. Plus, she might still be hunted, putting everyone around her in danger. Her best option for staying alive resided with Crey, but that didn't mean she had to give this Gaiian her heart too. Especially since, according to him, he might not know what to do with it. Maybe, despite Mari's hopes, his race didn't feel love. Could she live out her life with someone who might never return her feelings?

"Are you, similarly, contemplating the nature of this unusual orange sauce?" Crey asked.

Mari turned to him. "It's cheese."

"That sounds unappetizing. Its name suggests it is something Earthens squeezed out of a less sentient creature. Cheeeeeese."

She opened her mouth to correct him and, then, closed it because, well, yeah, that was cheese.

"This food smells tolerable." He scooped up a portion of the noodles, without putting them in his mouth.

"Are we eating at the same time?"

"No, I am observing your expression to confirm this is not another Earthen broccoli."

Under his close watch, Mari ate a bite of her mac and cheese. Mm. "It's pretty good."

He tasted it and nodded. "Macaroni and cheese is not as enjoyable as pizza. This is more uniform in texture and taste. Pizza had several different layers and textures, which supplied multiple flavors. I have decided this is correct and preferable. When we restock the replicator, it will have this, but more pizza and no broccoli." He cast her a look of defiance.

It was like trying to convince a toddler to eat his vegetables.

"I need foods like broccoli to stay healthy," Mari said.

He considered that. "Very well, you may have my broccoli." Crey placed his broccoli in front of her.

Yay.

Mari stared at the soggy pale-green replicated vegetable. Brassica oleracea. As a botanist, she should be impressed replicators could take the components of a vegetable and force them to resemble the original product. As someone with taste buds, she cursed the bastards who'd thought this was "close enough." Actually, it was the texture. Mari had tasted freshly-grown broccoli, and this tasted like broccoli, but the texture was both gritty and spongey. The replicated floret was the texture of sand in a sponge form with the bitter "earthiness" taste of broccoli. The portion she'd already finished was enough replicated broccoli for anyone, especially someone who didn't care for broccoli.

"You need broccoli to stay healthy," Crey reminded her.

"I need a little broccoli, not a lot." Why had she thought this was a good idea? Maybe she was subconsciously trying to punish Crey or herself. A deeply-buried masochism had risen to the surface and picked broccoli from the replicator.

"Then, that food will be wasted. I prefer to eat my protein bars. They are more nutritionally sound. Your body, however, requires it, as you said."

Oh, how quickly the tables had turned.

"Fine," Mari said, in what could only be described as a grumpy tone.

Mari ate his broccoli while Crey happily devoured the mac and cheese. This was not what you expected when you were fleeing for your life. Not that their strategy could entirely be categorized as fleeing when, at the least provocation, they'd turn and slaughter their enemies. She was, essentially, bait for Crey to obtain vengeance—while he was courting her and she was trying to seduce him into her quarters.

Mari finished eating her gritty broccoli and returned to her mac and cheese eagerly. Ugh, now, she kept thinking of the way he'd said cheeeeese. Curse Crey. Luckily, it would take a lot more than that to ruin cheese. Still, it made her a bit snippy as she asked, "So, when I bring you breakfast in the morning, will we be at the planet or will we be trying to entrap more of our enemies so we can slaughter them?"

Crey gave her a long look. "If our enemies did not follow us, we would not be forced to kill them."

"But, is this how our lives will always be? Because you certainly haven't made it sound like accepting you as my mate will fix everything."

"Accepting the mate bond will not fix all aspects of our current situation; however, that does not mean it will always be thus. Our All Father and representatives within the Allegiance will have heard by now."

"What can they do?" Mari would love some good news when it came to how often they'd be shooting down attacking enemy ships.

"If the Allegiance believes the Thalarins, as a people, have violated treaties, a formal admonishment should be sanctioned."

Mari frowned. "That's it? That's like a warning and a slap on the hand for the entire race."

"It is more than that. Thalarins will abandon their pursuit to avoid revocation of trade rights."

"They'll stop chasing us?"

"They do not want a revocation of their rights to trade with those nations within the Allegiance. This would be devastating to their economy. This might not deter them completely, but, we will also accrue more individuals monitoring on our behalf. Gaiians watch after their own. You will be clan-protected."

Mari relaxed her posture and took another bite of mac and cheese. She'd been clan-protected in Bogarta, and they'd done a damn good job. After she'd accepted Crey, even more Gaiians would be looking out for them and stealing any opportunity provided for vengeance. "How soon will the Allegiance threaten to sanction them?"

He shrugged. "It is the government. Bureaucracy is a thing among Earthens, is it not?"

"I've always suspected we invented it." Earthens were aces at red-tape.

Crey flattened his expression soberly. "Bureaucracy was a terrible invention."

Mari opened her mouth to explain when he grinned. She slugged his arm. It was amazing how charming Crey could be.

Crey's databand beeped. He glanced at the display and bolted to his feet. "Trookt dea-ith! Sonthed niah sifct meahm. Sifct!"

Whoa. Once "sifct" came into play, things had gone to sifct. Something had rattled her very even-tempered mate.

Crey grabbed her arm, firmly but gently, and pulled Mari to her feet. "We have a problem." Clasping her hand, Crey dragged her into the ship's corridor. He looked both ways.

Mari did the same while shifting into her version of a fighting stance. Anytime…anytime… She straightened. Nothing leapt out at them. She'd expected something to attack. Mari returned her focus to Crey, who was watching images flash across his databand. "What kind of problem do we have?" A sifct problem, she knew that much.

"You are too arousing." Crey's eyes flicked back and forth as he absorbed information from his databand's readings.

Too arousing? "That's a problem?"

"Yes."

Okay, no big deal. Deep breaths. Take deep breaths. Don't jump to conclusions.She'd done that last night. It was possible Crey wasn't suggesting she was a passionate mess, one he wanted nothing to do with. It was unlikely in fact. She trusted him. She did.

"Those dark-cursed plagues. Of course, it is set to go there," he muttered.

"Where is it set to go?"

"Engineering." He strode in that direction, towing her behind him.

"Why am I a problem?" she was brave enough to ask.

He frowned and gave her his attention. "You could never be a problem. You are a blessing. Please do not leak out your eyes, nefesim."

She blinked and shook her head. "No. I'm fine." Her voice sounded almost normal.

"That was Arabic." He sent her another look. "My reaction to you is a problem as you are all I can think about. My own arousal is distracting me from my constant vigilance."

She relaxed further. That was not a horrible problem, in her opinion. Confusing to a Gaiian? Maybe. But getting all turned on was not worth the face Crey was making or the Gaiian profanity he was muttering. He had said "sifct" several more times. Crey getting hot was not worth a "sifct." "Is this about last night?"

"To some extent—yes. Since I value your life above my own, I decided I could either keep my eyes open when we kiss, or I could activate highly sensitive intrusion alarms across the hull's interior."

"When did you activate these alarms?" He had. Of course he had. Sure, Crey would try to keep his eyes open while kissing, but this was his contingency plan.

"I placed them while you were asleep, excluding your quarters, and activated them immediately."

"You did that too?" Why was she surprised? Crey could have conquered an entire planet and been placed as their leader in the eight hours she'd slept. Hells, it was amazing he hadn't taken control of the Allegiance during the dark-cycle.

"You sleep a long time. I had many Earthen hours to install the sensors and arrange for my ship to monitor them. An alarm on the hull is alerting me now."

A horrific screeching sound came from the direction of the cargo bay, and the ship's air pressure changed abruptly. Air hissed down the corridor. The ship tilted, throwing them against the wall. Suddenly, they were floating.

Crey clasped Mari's waist and pressed her against him with one hand, while the other arm held them in place against a nearby ladder.

Mari, meanwhile, used her hands to keep her dress from floating up. Really not a great choice to wear a dress today—of all days.

"That is the stabilizer, trying to accommodate the breach," Crey said. "Give it a shift to recover."

"All of what just happened, well, that seems like a bigger problem than me making you hot." Wanting her wasn't a problem. If she was falling in love with him, anything Crey felt for her might be her salvation.

The ship's operating system announced something in Gaiian over the com system.

Also in Gaiian, Crey barked a command at the ship's OS.

A moment later, the modulated voice of the ship's OS said, "Attention, the rear hull has been breached."

"I told my ship's operating system to speak Prime. It may prove vital that you know how much danger we are in." Crey had returned to his normal patient tone when addressing her.

"Gee, honey, you shouldn't have," Mari said dryly.

"Sarcasm," he muttered under his breath. Sarcasm was probably not helpful when something had breached the hull, and they both might die.

"Sorry." Mari cleared her throat. She should just stop talking. "I fall back on it when I'm freaked out." It was probably good to know how much danger they were in.

Lifting his gaze to examine her expression, Crey drew her closer. "You are not to be freaked out, mehthin taugh."

Mari snorted. Even calling her "danger magnet" wasn't enough to stop that.

Crey nodded in the direction of the hissing air. "That is not a problem. It is a short deviation from the plan. My plan remains the same."

"What is your plan then?"

"My plan is to teach my beautiful and fierce intended to trust I will take care of her body and heart at all costs. This is merely a momentary complication. Do not fear—nothing will happen to you. I will keep you safe with my life, and if that is the cost, it will be worth it."

"I don't want that trade," Mari snapped. His "plan" had sounded romantic and comforting until the end. He would not pull that trick his father had. "If it comes down to you or me, I'd rather it be me. I know how you feel about that, but I will be pissed if you die. Beyond pissed. Plus, you'll never see the rest of my tattoos." Mari gestured toward the bridge. "And, I can't fly this damn thing."

"Pressure and gravity stabilizing," the ship announced. "In 3, 2, 1…"

They dropped to their feet. Crey kept his arm around Mari's waist until he was certain she was steady. After clasping her hand, they continued toward the rear of the ship where the hissing sound was coming from.

"I was serious about the tattoos," Mari said, just so they were clear.

Crey looked over his shoulder. "You are striking when you are angry."

"Yeah, well, guess who'll be on the receiving end of striking if you piss me off?"

"I would guess me. I have yet to tell you what has breached the hull, therefore it is unlikely you have factored our latest combatant into the equation."

Veering to the corridor's starboard side, he slammed his fist against the wall, and a sword popped out of a hidden chamber, like the replicator dispensing food. The hilt slid smoothly into Crey's hand, and they continued, without a single skipped step on his part.

He barked again, "Vessel, is the breach within Engineering or in the cargo hold?"

Mari far preferred the voice he used with her. Also, the name of his ship was "vessel"? Boring.

"In the cargo hold," the ship said.

"Good." Crey's obvious relief comforted her. "We have time."

The ship asked, "Am I to seal the breach?"

"Seal the hull when I enter the cargo hold, but not before." He sent Mari a glance. "I want to give this abomination every opportunity to be sucked out into space."

"What is this thing?"

"A Thalarin toy—housed in the ship we destroyed. It would have jettisoned between the impact and the explosion. Even their own people are disposable in their quest for domination. The Thalarins created speculative strategies for when that fighter failed." Crey stopped outside the cargo bay door where something banging aggressively was vibrating the hull. "I have to go into the cargo hold and destroy it. If I do not, that retht will get into Engineering and disable all life support beyond repair, as well as damaging the engines."

Whoa. "Okay, so, that's bad." Yet, Crey lusting after her was a problem? A monster had torn through the metal hull of the cargo bay and was hell-bent on killing them. His danger triage was messed up.

"All will be well," Crey assured her. "I will handle this."

"I intend to confirm that with my own two eyes. I'm coming with you." She would not wait around for him to save her. Nuh uh. No way. She would stand by her man.

His frown was fierce.

Mari trumped his expression with a narrow-eyed stare and a frown. "Nope. Not budging." No way. She wasn't waiting out here while he fought to the death with a monster. Hells no. Hells to the no. "You said these are ‘our enemies.' I deserve the right to help you kill it." Mari was speaking his language, not Gaiian, but this language of violence and vengeance.

Crey begrudgingly nodded. "Be aware that the air will be thin for a short time. You have your blaster?"

Mari patted her empty pocket as if it might have magically materialized. "Dammit. I knew I should have changed out of this dress." Unzipping her other hidden pocket, she grabbed her saber. "This will have to do. I'm ready."

Crey looked ready to object again. Instead, he smiled and leaned over to press a kiss on her lips instead. "Keep yourself safe and provide me enough space to maneuver, so that I need only track the monster's movements."

That was fair. She could do that. "Stay alive, and I'll show you another tattoo." Incentivizing was good.

"Then, I will." Crey stated this as if he'd just been waiting for her to ask. In his sterner commanding voice, he barked, "Vessel, prepare for entry to cargo bay—in 3, 2, 1…" Crey pushed through the doors.

Simultaneously, the hissing stopped, though the clanging continued. On the far end of the ship's cargo hold was an enormous metal monstrosity that looked like a spider.

"What in the hells?" she breathed out.

The monster was immense. It was the size of her humongous bed. Behind the silver spider, a gigantic gash in the metal hull had been temporarily "healed" with an energy shield. The damn metal spider monstrosity had rage-torn through a thick metal hull. Wow.

Crey squeezed Mari's hand before letting go. Glaring at the creature, he whistled shrilly.

The metallic monster turned. Totally a spider, even from the front. The Thalarins had created massive metal spiders and thereby encapsulated horror. Its eyes appeared to be dozens of monitoring cameras. The sharp mandibles just below them clicked and twitched as it examined them with those creepy eyes.

She'd swear on her soul those glittering eyes were cataloguing all their vulnerabilities and building an attack strategy. Hells, she hated spiders. This was definitely a mutual enemy, in addition to the monsters who'd created it.

Mari extended the saber on her "weapon." She took a badass defensive position—slightly crouched with her saber ready to wield. Yes, bring it. "That spider thing was on the ship's hull, and you didn't notice until it tore its way inside?"

Unbelievably, he might need to add "more" sensors. At least Crey had detected that nightmare-fuel, even if it wasn't long before the spider had broken through. If lust got him to detect enormous metal spiders clinging to the hull, go lust. Lust saved lives.

The spider hissed. Damnation, that monster was mean-looking.

Crey growled back in a low, gruff way, which turned her insides to mush. She shouldn't be thinking about how sexy her Gaiian was right now. They were in peril. Things were perilous.

"It replicates itself with nanobots," Crey answered. "It was no bigger than my hand when it attached itself to the hull. It has grown. The protracted increase in size helps reduce detection." He blocked her from the spider and crouched in a fighter's stance. "Get closer to the hull, Mari—while still leaving enough space behind you and to each side for evasive movement."

"Gotcha." Mari backed up immediately and mimicked his stance. She was a badass. They had this.

He shot a quick glance over his shoulder. "You excel at following instructions."

Her cheeks warmed. It was sweet he found the time to commend her when they were fighting for their lives.

Crey tossed the long blade from hand to hand. "Attack, you sifct, dark-cursed creature."

"Do I want to know what ‘sifct' means?" She had been curious all this time, but after seeing a fight erupt over that word, Mari had stifled her curiosity.

"No. The translation is so profane you would empty your stomach. I should not have said it."

Okay then.

The spider abruptly hissed and skittered forward at such a fast pace Mari couldn't prevent herself from stumbling as she backed away. It was huge.

Crey leapt at the spider, slashing in a powerful arc with his sword.

The spider avoided the blade and surged forward.

Pivoting, Crey caught the spider with his sword's upward swing. The blade bounced off the carapace and drove the spider back a few skittered steps, but otherwise had no effect.

"Should I get my blaster?" She could run back to her room.

"No," Crey said, as the spider hissed again. "A well-placed shot will only stun the creature. To kill it, I need to cut off one of the first legs, stab through the hole left in the carapace, and slice upward. The central processing is in a rudimentary spine along the top. This will paralyze the creature. While it is immobilized, trying to repair itself, I will insert an explosive mine, and the ship's system will blow the monster out through the hull into space. The subsequent explosion should scatter the nanobots to the extent that they cannot rejoin."

"Seriously?" If Crey didn't kill this nasty monster, she had no chance of surviving—none.

"Why would I not be serious? Additionally, avoid the mandibles. They are strong enough to sever an Earthen arm."

"Eventually, our dates in this courtship will involve killing fewer things, right?" It was a bit of a downer to say the least.

"That I cannot guarantee. I can only assure you that you will not end up being the one killed."

The spider and Crey had been shifting around, as if a lethal dance was about to begin. Abruptly, Crey rushed in, slashing with his sword. The spider countered his movements, avoiding him. He swore in Gaiian—this time without the nausea-inducing "sifct."

"How many of these spiders have you killed?" Please let it be an enormous number.

"Nine."

Nine wasn't too bad.

"The technology is expensive," Crey said. "The Thalarins manufacture less than fifty each orbit. It is a point of pride that they have sent nine after me. That is the most they have ever sent after any Gaiian."

Great. Fantastic. Her potential mate was a metal spider magnet.

"But, there's a slim chance this might be the only one I'll ever see?" If this were a regular occurrence, she'd have nightmares.

"I would prefer that."

Crey leapt in, slashing. His blade hit too high and gave the creature the opportunity to snag his arm in its sharp mandibles.

No! Oh no. Gasping, Mari took a step forward, readying to attack.

Crey twisted and rolled out of its mandibles, but not before it carved a gash across his upper arm.

No! Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be… Mari held her breath until Crey moved his arm again. Good. That was good. It was bleeding and nasty, but his arm worked.

Stupid, smagging metal spider.

"Sif—" Crey clamped his mouth closed on the profanity. "Retht, retht, retht." A steady sluggish stream of blood traveled down Crey's arm. Not good. His new position put him and the monster perpendicular to her.

Very not good. Mari changed her grip on the saber, loosening it. Her fingers were cramping from how tightly she'd been holding it. Be ready, Mari. Don't get between them, but be ready.

Crey clearly hated his current position too. He sent her a frustrated glance. A few more "rethts" were said, but not the dreaded "sifct."

Hells, she should have stayed in the corridor. He was having to worry about her and the spider.

Crey advanced on the spider, in an attempt to move himself back into place in front of Mari. The spider leapt forward, snapping with its mandibles, forcing him to further retreat. The creature now crouched between her and Crey.

Extremely not good. If it turned on her and attacked…

"The creature will not attack you until it has killed me," Crey said. "It is coded to Gaiians' genetic signatures."

That was both comforting and not at all comforting.

Hey, wait, there was a hole in the backend of the spider. Maybe the spider spun webs or ejected acid. But, if the way to kill it was piercing the carapace through a hole…

Slashing aggressively, Crey unintentionally made the spider skitter backward.

Hells, it was coming toward her.

Here went nothing. Mari jammed the electric saber into the hole in the spider's backend while activating the energy surge.

Sparks sizzled around the saber. The entire spider seized and shook with the current, giving Crey his opening to slice off the spider's leg and jab his blade in and up. The force pulled her saber free, and Mari quickly retracted it and pocketed the tool.

"We are getting out of here," Crey said over his shoulder as he ran to the nearest wall.

The spider dropped to the floor as its legs collapsed. Crey's blade remained embedded in the carapace. The monster was sparking and sputtering, and the damn thing wasn't nearly as frightening. It looked like a broken bot.

"Head toward the door." Crey slapped a hand onto the wall and a compartment opened with multiple items. He grabbed a metal disc, activated the explosive mine, and returned to the spider. He shoved the lit-up disc into the carapace.

Mari watched the spider for sudden movements as she ran to the door.

Despite how much more he'd accomplished, Crey met her at the door, which opened obligingly. "Vessel, unseal the breach in the hull and alert me when the cargo bay is empty."

"Unsealing," the ship said as the door shut them off from the creature.

Mari was winded both from running and from the rush of adrenaline, but Crey closed the gap between them. He placed his left hand on her far shoulder, without resting his arm across her back. Crey's right hand was covered in blood, which had trickled down from his wound. He waited patiently for the ship's report, even as blood pooled on the floor beneath his hand.

"The cargo bay is empty," the ship said.

"Detonate the explosive in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…"

The shockwave from the explosion pushed their ship forward.

Crey's hand tightened on her shoulder, keeping Mari from being tossed by the surge.

"Do you have a med bay where we can fix your arm?" Mari asked when their momentum seemed normal.

"I do. We will go there soon." In a far less gentle voice, Crey said, "Vessel, spray a cleansing acid over the entirety of the cargo hold before sealing the breach."

"A cleansing acid?" Mari had never disinfected a surface with cleansing acid before.

"It is unlikely enough nanobots remain to be problematic, but it is best to be certain." He dropped his left hand to clasp hers and pulled her down the corridor.

"I am in total agreement with you about safety first when it comes to giant spiders. But, if you hadn't shot that thing out into space and blown it up, the nanobots could have recovered from that?"

Crey tilted his head. "It is difficult to say. I have never thrust an electrified saber into its uh…"

"Ass?" Mari supplied.

"Yes. As Earthens say, you fight dirty, nopha lau'nen." He stated this proudly. "You are certainly a wild variable. If not for your creative attack, it would have indeed recovered, given time. The presence of my blade slowed the process, but destroying the nanobots' cohesion was necessary."

"Hopefully, that wasn't your favorite sword."

He shrugged. "The blade was contaminated with nanobots regardless." Crey squeezed her hand. "I will have more to tell the others about your strategy. I am pleased you carry that saber."

"Yes." She pulled her fancy saber out. "Even if this was running a current at the time, neutralizing anything, I feel weird carrying around a used spider enema."

"It is good that you are a badass xenobotanist, then, and can handle this unsettling annoyance until we cleanse the saber in the med bay."

Mari grinned. "Are you teasing me?"

Crey smiled back. "I believe I might be."

"I can cleanse and seal the wound myself." Crey sat stiffly on the single med-bay bed. He had been careless to let himself be wounded. That battle could have turned out quite differently if the wound had been more severe.

"You can, but you're letting me, because I want to fuss over you anytime you've been attacked by a nanobot spider. That is the stuff of nightmares."

"Very well." Crey relaxed. "If you wish." This was a sign of affection and devotion that Mari wanted to "fuss" over him. He would allow it, especially since his wound did not appear to detract from her trust in his abilities.

"I do wish. Now, shut up and let me play doctor." Immediately contradicting her order, Mari said, "You'll need to tell me what to do with some of these tools." She lifted the sealing wand. "What is this?"

"It will knit the wound together. First, the wound must be cleansed." He nodded at the anti-bac pads. "Then, you will need to draw the torn edges together with the sealing straps in the kit."

Mari picked up the pad and washed his wound. "Does it hurt very much?"

"No." It did, but he was Gaiian and could withstand pain.

She raised her eyebrows.

"It does hurt slightly," Crey allowed. He looked at his arm. "This will be easier if I remove my tunic."

"Oh, yeah, you should do that." She stepped back.

Moving his arm as little as possible, Crey rent the ruined tunic from his body and tossed it into the incinerator.

Her response to his bare upper torso was exactly as a prospective mate might desire. Mari's eyes widened. Her cheeks flushed the color he favored, and his bold mehthin taugh licked her lips. Though Crey's Earthen shook herself and returned to cleaning his arm, Mari frequently cast brief glances at his chest.

"What happens after I get you fixed up?" she asked—her voice huskier. Yes, her reaction to him was most pleasing.

"I must repair the hull, and you must waste your Earthen hours sleeping."

Mari sighed and threw the bloody cloths into the incinerator. "Last time I went to sleep, all sorts of things happened."

"This dark-cycle will likely not be as eventful."

"You say that, but I have my doubts." Mari located the med-straps from the kit. "I've used these before. Earthens have these." She attached the straps to each side of the wound, placed the ratcheting clamp in the middle and pulled until the wound closed. "I'll need three more straps." Her expression was scolding.

"I did not intend for this to happen."

"I know, but I still don't like that you got hurt."

"I would not wish you to." Their relationship was progressing in that she desired Crey remain unharmed.

"Will we be on the planet when I wake up?" his intended asked. "You never answered earlier."

"It is possible, but not guaranteed."

She smiled. "And, you've devised alternate plans regardless?"

"Certainly."

"Now, what?" She held up the sealing wand. "How does this work? I don't think Earthens have this."

"They likely do have them in their med bay. It is not Gaiian technology." A Gaiian-made instrument would be better, and sealing wounds would not feel as if one's skin was being flayed off. "Earthens would utilize them during surgery to seal sizable wounds. You would not have seen them as Earthens likely only use a sealing wand when the person is sedated."

Mari narrowed her eyes. "Only when sedated?"

"I would imagine. Your race cannot handle pain as Gaiians do."

"It'll be that painful?"

"One cannot have healing without pain. This knits flesh together instantly. It is excruciating."

His intended retreated, clutching the sealing wand to her chest. "Is there something less painful we can use?"

"The sealing wand will heal the wound immediately, which is necessary."

"Fine. We can use sedation."

"No, I cannot be sedated when your welfare is at stake. I must be able to react instantly, Mari. All my strategies are dependent on that surety." He held out his hand. "I will do it."

She retreated again. Her pretty pink mouth tightened at the corners with disapproval.

"Do not make me chase you. I will, little Earthen, and I have your permission to grasp enough that I will have my way." He would enjoy the chase, provided the deep gash on his arm did not open up.

"You should not be chasing me when you're wounded."

"Then, let me seal the wound, and I will chase you for another reason."

To his disappointment, Mari exhaled an aggravated breath and, shaking her head, she returned to his side. "I'll do it, but I would like to register my complete disapproval of this. I'm a badass xenobotanist. You could be sedated for a short time, and I could handle it."

Crey cupped her cheek briefly, saying, "You have many wondrous qualities, nopha lau'nen, but you are not a pilot, and you cannot anticipate the multitude of complications we might encounter." His wild variable surprised him at each turn, but she still needed guidance and his strength and experience.

His intended groaned softly. "No. That's true. I had no idea those awful metal spiders even existed. Real arachnids are nasty enough." She wiggled the sealing wand. "How do I do this?"

"Remove the tip. Turn it on. When the charge reaches full-capacity, move the wand along the wound, pressing firmly. When the wound is fully-sealed and is a light pink, move on. This wound should take only a few Earthen minutes."

"Do I remove the med-tape?"

"No. The med-tape is meant to be penetrated using the wand. It will harmlessly dissolve into the skin."

Mari shifted back and forth on her feet. "Are we sure this is the only way?"

"That I have available? Yes."

"You've had this done before?"

"More times than I can count." Crey typically sealed wounds himself, with occasional breaks to recover. It was rare he was sealing a single gash.

She took a few deep breaths in succession. "Okay, I can do this. I'm a badass xenobotanist. I can do this."

"Or I can do this, and," Crey tipped, as if to confirm, "your ass is very good, xenobotanist."

With a determined glare, Mari removed the tip and set it to charge. The wand hummed stridently as it gathered a charge. "Okay. Brace yourself. Should you be lying down?"

"This is acceptable." This was his longest stay in med bay—possibly ever.

His intended pressed the wand to his skin.

Crey gripped the metal bed frame beneath him and clenched his jaw as white hot pain ignited his nerve endings. It felt as if the spider's mandibles were tearing the flesh apart again.

"Ooooooooooo." Her expression reflected her misery as she methodically drew the wand across his flesh. "I hate this. I hate this. Why aren't you screaming Gaiian profanity?"

That was typically the Gaiian-preferred method for dealing with pain. Crey did not want her to be concerned he could not handle pain, though. He unclenched his jaw enough to say, "It is nothing."

"It is not nothing." She continued on, but bit her lower lip, and tears leaked from her eyes. "I hate this. I hate this. Halfway through." Mari's next breath was a short sob. "I hate this. I can tell how much this hurts you, and I hate this."

Crey resisted the urge to repeat that it was nothing. She would not believe it, and the pain was causing black spots in his vision. Crey's jaw felt seized shut. He closed his eyes. At least he had that luxury with Mari sealing the wound.

"Three-fourths the way through," she announced, sniffing.

He nodded once. Pain was the feeling of survival. Pain was merely the consequence of a hard-won battle. Pain was—

Mari lifted the wand. "All done."

Crey opened his eyes as his tear-streaked intended threw herself into his body, dropping the sealing wand in the process. Wrapping her arms around his torso, Mari pressed her wet face into his neck. She had pushed her body between his knees, and their position was wonderfully intimate.

"You have my permission to touch my back." Her words were barely audible as she did not lift her face to say them.

Enfolding his beautiful Earthen in his arms, Crey inhaled her sweet scent. "All will be well, mehthin taugh."

Her answer was a combination of a hiccup and a sniff. Mari's tears wet his skin, making it clammy and sticky. He did not mind.

Crey pulled her closer. "I am healed. It is over."

"I can't believe you're having to comfort me," she said against his skin.

It was, admittedly, a surprise.

Mari sniffed. "Did you get hurt because I insisted on going in too?"

"Possibly." His intended was a distraction, and she enjoyed talking more than he was accustomed to.

Mari moaned.

"However, I was hurt less than other encounters with that particular beast due to your intervention. If you want to be by my side, I will trust your judgment."

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?"

Her sigh against his skin was his undoing. Loosening his clasp, Crey cupped her wet cheeks. He wiped her tears with his thumbs. "You are a wonder, Dr. Marigold Clemons. No Gaiian has been as blessed as I am. You are my beautiful warrior."

Mari raised her eyebrows. "You say that, but I look awesomely horrific when I cry. I'm the bad kind of pink."

"You are always my favorite kind of pink." Crey kissed her mouth gently, unhurriedly, despite the confusing emotions raging within him. He would do anything for this Earthen woman. Anything she wanted. Anything the universe demanded of him. Anything.

She relaxed in his arms, her emotional and physical exhaustion evident.

He drew away from his tempting Earthen.

Her eyes opened slowly. "Crey?"

"You need to waste your time sleeping."

She exhaled a loud breath. "I do, so I won't argue with you, and I'll leave before my body gets any different ideas." With clear reluctance, she pulled out of his arms and stepped back.

As she walked toward the med-bay door, Crey called after her, "I was promised a tattoo should I live."

Whirling back toward him, Mari lifted her hands to her dress's fastening. Unbuttoning the top three buttons, she drew the material back to reveal a length of curling vine with a leaf resting just above her left breast. "This is where the vine begins." Mari turned and left med bay.

Crey smiled. What a sensual and interesting Earthen he had. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes and let the tremors, a delayed reaction from the pain, overtake him. After several shifts, Crey opened his eyes and stood. It was time to check their course and make plans.