5. Chapter Five

5days, 12 hours, 6 minutes EST remaining The first shake of the ship awakened her. By the second, Mari was dressed and running toward the door. All the hells must have broken loose. Again. Hopefully, Crey had planned for this.

Before she reached the door, Crey's voice came over the com, saying, "Mari, cautiously make your way to the bridge, bringing your backpack of supplies."

It would be that sort of morning. At least she'd dressed accordingly. Mari pocketed the blaster and saber, grabbed the backpack from beside the door, and ran to the bridge. As she entered the extended cockpit area, Mari paused to take in the planet displayed on the data-table and in the distance on the viewscreen. It was a forestworld, an uncivilized forestworld. From looking at the data-table entry, there wasn't a single sign of colonization or other structures.

Crey was at the controls and didn't acknowledge her entrance. All his concentration was on the various viewscreens. Well, that was not her Gaiian's typical arrogant conviction he was handling everything masterfully.

The ship shuddered, throwing her into a wall.

Ow. "Is that the escape planet?"

"It is not, mehthin taugh. Sit and fasten yourself in."

Mari hastened to do as he asked, bringing the smaller viewscreens into sight. Whoa. Just—whoa. "Damnation, Crey. I'm coming around to your way of thinking that sleeping is a huge waste of time. Every time I wake up, it's as if I've been in cryo for a week, not unconscious for eight hours. Where did all these ships around us come from?" They were nearly surrounded, despite how fast they were flying.

"The Thalarins anticipated I would take you on this path and placed an immense fleet of ships accordingly. If they can kill us before we can access a relay station connected to the Gaiian system, there will be no record of what happened to us."

"How many are out there?" It might just look like a lot.

"Fifty to sixty within range of my sensors. Four carrier-class ships and the remainder are fleet or fighter class."

Nope. It was more ships than she thought. Great. The Thalarins had gone all in when it came to killing them. This might even be overkill. Mari snorted. Overkill.

"What is it?" Crey asked.

"Nothing really. I was just thinking this was overkill, which is an Earthen expression for going beyond killing—beyond what is necessary."

"Do Earthen often go beyond killing that such an expression arose?"

"Maybe they did on Old Earth." Those carriers were massive. No wonder Captain Ockler's friend had panicked when the Thalarin carriers passed by their stranded ship. It wasn't just the carriers either that were terrifying—it was what they contained. "Those carriers hold a helluva lot of Thalarins, don't they?"

"Yes. They do. We do not have warship carriers such as that. They typically contain several hundred individuals. They will each have forty to fifty fighter ships in their holds as the fighter class are meant for short distances. The carriers were most likely escorted by these larger fleet ships. They can travel greater distances."

"Wouldn't this have taken awhile to arrange?"

"Yes. The carriers can warp from here, but warping to an unmapped system, without satellite imagery, could result in the carrier smashed into a planet. They moved slowly and deliberately while remaining cloaked the entire time. Organizing and setting this into action would have taken several of your Earthen months. When I catch the sifct traitor who betrayed us and tagged my ship, they will wish for a quick death. I suspect the Thalarins have been herding us this way, and I did not ascertain their intentions."

"Herding us? They thought you would survive all these other attacks?"

"Certainly they thought that." Crey sent her a bruised glance. "It is as if you had not been present for those resounding defeats. They need greater quantities of ships to expend during battles against us as Gaiians are far superior in all aspects of combat. I have even outmaneuvered them for many shifts to allow you additional rest time."

Mari shot him an exasperated look. Stubborn Gaiian.

"Now, we will take this hunt to the planet's surface. While there, we will journey to a relay station, where we can contact others among my people."

"Can your ship not access the relays around the planet?"

"They are a closed system to prevent ships recognizing signals as originating here and to prevent access from outsiders. We had already passed the last open relay when I detected these ships, which was their intention. Their ships are in a sort of dead zone—just within the system and beyond the open relays."

"So, they stopped just before they'd start triggering alerts?"

"Yes," Crey said. "Most of the closed orbiting or stationary relays are deeper into the system. Coms and data pass through relays on this planet, Lyatan, which are built into the trees, and then broadcast to the open relay or use a series of our relays to reach Bogarta. If enough relays are blocked or if key scanning relays register a heat signature, it triggers an alert." He gestured at the controls. "My own ship is set to notify me if we trigger any alerts, and it has not done so. They are positioned well."

The amount of planning involved in setting this up was scary in itself. "Are there Gaiians in this planet's relay station who will see us being chased by Thalarins?"

"Gaiians work in the station, but they may not see us as we are remaining cloaked and this incursion is unexpected. Additionally, the only inhabitants of this planet, beyond those stationed here, do not merit monitoring."

"Because they're peaceful?"

He snorted. "Because they are doing as their nature dictates and were present on this planet first. My people allow them to live as unimpeded as possible by our intrusion. We replace things they damage and prevent the creatures from killing those stationed here. In some, very specific situations, my people are peaceful."

This time, Mari snorted, making Crey smile. Very, very specific situations. "Won't those stationed on Lyatan see the Thalarins? I can see them all just fine, and I can't imagine your ship worked out that many cloaking signatures."

"They will not see them, without making significant attempts to do so. This planet does not have the sort of security that Casa does, and these ships are cloaked. One of the carriers sent a short-range com, transmitting their energy signatures, as they want me to see them." He muttered, "Wemfsets." Crey had said the word enough when referring to their enemies that, from context, Mari understood "wemfset" was similar to "prick."

"Why would they show you where they are?"

"They hoped I would panic and behave erratically."

"Wow, obviously, they have no idea who they're dealing with." Crey wouldn't panic. Ever. This was what Earthens called "showing your ass"—though, she wouldn't say that out loud because her intended might be distracted by another expression referring to an "ass."

Crey expression was approving.

"So, you have no plans to uncloak us—at all?" He had uncloaked them in the rift, and there might be a greater strategy where it made sense.

"No, but as close as they are, and as fast as we are moving, the Thalarins can detect our moving energy signature. They know where we are…approximately. They have also sent coms suggesting I may surrender. If I do, they have said they will allow you to live."

Mari shook her head slowly. "Seriously, it's like they've never heard of a Gaiian, let alone know anything about you. Gaiians probably only have a passing familiarity with the word ‘surrender.'"

"As a matter of fact, we use the word quite frequently. Those we are facing usually surrender immediately when we do, often with relief at being presented that option." A smile transformed his face. "If you ever wish to surrender to me, Mari, I would not think any less of you."

She relaxed. "I'll keep that in mind." She could feel that damn nearly-perpetual blush heat her cheeks. They were being chased by an enemy fleet, and he was flirting with her. Being courted by a Gaiian was a vastly different experience. Her previous relationships paled in comparison.

They should move on, so she could rid herself of this blush. "So, this planet is habitable," Mari said. The data-table had indicated it was. She'd seen all the atmospheric levels. It was a fairly typical forestworld.

"Yes. The only native creatures are classification 4 or lower in sentience, but entirely hostile."

Excellent. These creatures understood each other well enough to plot a murder. Sweet.

"This planet is where our forestry material crops are farmed. It is the first of such planets with relay stations in this system, which is a stationary orbit system by our design."

"A stationary orbit system?"

"We do not like the impact of orbits on weather, and it is easier to manage a system which is not constantly shifting in location; therefore, we used terraforming gravitational technology to stop the planets in their orbit around the system's sun. They still revolve, and the moons in planetary orbits continue, but the weather patterns are more stable on the planets."

"Gaiians have stopped this system's orbits?"

"Yes, it was an advancement we learned from the Tarcekians. They preferred the order of a stationary orbit also. It is not as noticeable as their system only has three planets, but the process is not greatly changed by more planets."

"Huh." Wow.

He nodded as if this was a logical response. "When we arrive at the station, we will send a transmission through Gaiian channels to request any who desire vengeance come immediately."

She loved how Crey got around the notion of "asking for help." Though, realistically, those Gaiians responding would be coming in order to avenge themselves on the Thalarins—Crey and his intended's safety would be a byproduct of that violence.

He had also moved on from discussing a stationary orbit system because, to him, that was a normal thing.

Gaiians—they were adorable.

"Does the Allegiance know about this planet?" Mari asked.

"No. Why should we pay tariffs on lumber from a farm planet under our care? Do you appreciate how lush the world is?" He gestured at the bridge's expansive viewscreen, which was filled with the forestworld they were hurtling toward. It was almost entirely green, crossed only by lakes and rivers.

"As a botanist, yes."

"That is my people's doing." His voice reflected his pride. "Lyatan's vegetation was dying out due to an insect infestation, which would eventually have destroyed all life on this planet. We restored balance. We take far better care of what is ours than other races."

"Hm." Mari could not disagree, now that she belonged to a Gaiian.

"Therefore, the Allegiance, and all races that it represents, need not know about this planet." His expression suggested she wanted to wrest the planet from the Gaiian nation on behalf of the Earthen race.

Mari held up her hands. "Hey, I just asked a question. You can keep your planet filled with angry sentient creatures. We come in peace."

Crey grunted and returned his attention to the controls.

"Was the documentation for this planet funneled through Bogarta and thus subsequently misplaced?"

Crey's mouth lifted in an almost smile. "Intrusive Allegiance monitoring documentation, in general, should not go through Bogarta."

"Uh huh. That I believe." Mari looked around. Her muscles twitched from the anxiety of doing nothing. Distracting Crey might get them killed. They were surrounded by enemy ships—ships that were trying to get close enough for shield-penetrating weapons. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. You may gather supplies for us. That would be most helpful." In his forceful tone, Crey barked, "Vessel, allow Dr. Marigold Clemons immediate access to wall vestibules."

"You are damned lucky your ship's operating system isn't a sentient artificial intelligence because an AI would have hurled you into a sun."

"My ship has a learning AI system. All Gaiian operating systems are AI and a higher sentience."

"Your AI must be fine with you growling at it, I guess." Unbuckling, Mari stood.

Behind her, wall compartments all around the bridge had opened, revealing arsenals of weapons as well as other supplies. This was how Crey was able to hit a fist into a wall and get a sword.

"There is a pack beside the door. Fill it as quickly as you can with as much as you can. I can carry whatever you put in."

Mari rushed to the door and grabbed the pack. From then on, it was like shopping in the strangest market ever. Mari dashed around, stuffing whatever she could into the bag's pockets and the main compartment. Periodically, Crey would shout "brace" before the ship rocked from fire on their shields. Rather than dropping to the floor, Mari pressed against the nearest wall and took her chances.

"How many swords do you need?" For them, this was practically a domestic conversation; whereas, the Mari of three days ago couldn't have pictured a reality in which she'd ask that.

"Three. One long. One curved. One short sword or machete. Attach them to the side straps. Also, as many daggers and throwing spurs as you can find places for."

After gathering the blades, she considered the throwing spurs. "Do you want explosive or non-explosive?" It was another odd thing to ask normally, but not with Crey.

"Equal amounts if possible. Additionally, we will need the perimeter fencing." Crey pointed. "That rectangular box in the middle section contains the devices we will need."

This was not the first time Mari had packed a bag for a planetary excursion. It was, however, the first time she'd packed three-quarters of this stuff. What else? Oh, food. A wall section was devoted to Crey's protein bars. He'd definitely need those. Unfortunately, there was no way to pack pizza easily, and, as he said, it was messy.

"Are there flavors of these protein bars?" The packaging was all the same.

Crey snorted. "Flavors."

Mari would take that as a no, which explained why her Gaiian had been blissed out by waffles and pizza. Mari threw a bunch of the boring bars into the main compartment. She also packed various tools to source water and pouches filled with an optimal hydration formula.

Okay. That was done.

"Are there any sleeping bags or something like that?" There was an item that resembled a hammock, but that was the closest, and, honestly, it was probably a net to trap their enemies in. The netting was in the bridge's arsenal section, which was, admittedly, most of the compartments.

"Brace," Crey said.

Mari leaned against a wall as another assault on the shields rocked the ship.

"The only supplies for more comfortable sleeping are in your room, mehthin taugh, and not necessarily appropriate for this planet. I apologize that I did not anticipate this need and stock my ship accordingly. I will ensure you get proper rest, and that you are warm."

"Uh huh. By the way, I've noticed you're calling me ‘danger magnet' every few seconds," she said dryly. Half the "brace" warnings had included the "endearment."

"Earthens—so prone to exaggeration."

"Gaiians—so prone to charging forth into danger and relishing the opportunity."

Crey shifted, made eye contact, and said firmly, "Not this time. Not with you to protect."

Licking her lips, Mari nodded—it felt like the thing to do.

He nodded also and returned to focusing on the controls.

After packing a few blades for herself, Mari inspected the other compartments. Was there anything else she might be able to use as a weapon? Nothing jumped out at her. She would not slow him down on the planet. She was going to be kickass on the planet too. "I'm done." She closed the pack.

"Excellent. Now, sit and secure yourself. We will be hitting the atmosphere, and I will need to outpace ships that follow us down."

"How many will follow us?" Mari returned to her seat and buckled in.

"I would estimate between twelve and thirty. My ship is faster than theirs. You are not to be concerned."

"Your ship is faster than those fighters?" Fighter-class ships sacrificed a lot in the name of speed.

"Yes. This is due to an upgrade from a Sargunian needing asylum. Sargunians will not share their advanced technology, unless their race turns against them for their mate choice."

"Aww, you helped a Sargunian in love?"

Crey sent her a look. "I gave them a place to stay in trade. Emotions were not involved. The result of that trade was that nothing is faster than my ship."

Mari motioned at the screens showing an entourage of enemy ships. "Yeah, but they're going for quantity rather than quality."

"Yes, and, as I said, there will be more fighters in the carriers."

Wow. She'd never been so important that an entire race was out to get her. "They set all this up—for us? They sent an entire armada to kill us?"

"I believe that is their plan's initial phase. However, they have always coveted this dark system. They will try to take it by force if successful."

The ship broke the atmosphere. The pressure from an aggressive entry threw Mari backward against the seat. After recovering, she asked, "Wait, they want the whole system, not just a couple of planets? How many habitable planets are in this system?" Thalarins wouldn't want a system with just two planets they could occupy.

He sent her another suspicious look.

Mari threw her hands in the air. "Crey, I'm not a spy for the Allegiance. You know that. If you want me in your life as your mate, you'll have to trust me too. I may be Earthen, but I'm not even bound to the Allegiance. I paid for my schooling independently, and I'm a contractor to the exploratory ship, which you've been funding. I'm not spying on behalf of the Earthen race. That would make no sense." Did Crey think she was simply floating along on the Beagle-2230, hoping to catch a Gaiian's attention?

"When you accept the mate bond, you will be Gaiian and Earthen," Crey stated, "but you will be bound solely to me."

"Okay, I guess we'll put a pin in the ‘dark system' discussion, so I can focus on your use of the word ‘when.' ‘When' I accept the mate bond? Getting a bit cocky, Gaiian?" Mari quickly held up a hand when Crey smiled. "Wait, I withdraw my use of the word ‘cocky' as there's a reason it's in English. Substitute the word ‘sure.' You're awfully sure of yourself."

They swooped down toward the forested world, close enough that individual trees became visible. Her stomach dove along with the ship. A viewscreen appeared near Crey, this one showing the view above them. As Crey skimmed along the treetops, a couple dozen Thalarin ships dove after their ship.

"You will accept the mate bond." While Crey's focus seemed to be entirely on the multitude of views around him, he was smiling still…for her. "Anyone who cries while treating a flesh wound has already invested her emotions in the relationship to a degree that intimacy is inevitable."

Yes, completely inevitable. She hadn't expected Crey to recognize that. "That was more than a flesh wound."

"Anything without immediate fatal consequences is a flesh wound to a Gaiian."

Mari nearly groaned. Gaiians. She looked at his viewscreen and the host of ships swooping directly toward them. It was a good thing Crey didn't have his finger on her pulse. "Any chance you have a positional laser that can target above us?"

"Certainly." He reached over and tapped several items on a screen. She got her own screen and similar controls to yesterday's gun.

Mari laughed low in her throat. She had a score to settle over that spider.

His eventual mate fired laser blasts in delighted glee at their enemies. While it was practical she was not wearing a dress this light-cycle, it was regrettable. Crey's new goal was to create a safe enough environment that Mari would wear more dresses that revealed her shapely legs.

"Ohhhhhh, did you see that?" Mari asked.

He had. Several of the fighter ships had reacted unexpectedly when multiple laser blasts hit their shields. They had veered into each other—nearly crashing.

"Do the fighter class have weaker shields?"

"Yes, but they should still absorb a laser blast." Laser blasts were ineffectual against any advanced shields. Gaiians did not even bother firing them anymore, unless it was on substandard-shielded ships. The only weapon that could disable a well-equipped fighter or fleet-class ship was a missile at close range.

"They absorbed the laser blast, but the entire shield went opaque directly in front of their view-window."

Fighter pilots saw through a thick, clear view-window, while relying on their readings, as their size could not accommodate the monitoring equipment required for a viewscreen. Their shape and size made them faster than most ships; though, thankfully, not Crey's. Fighters were the swiftest of the Thalarin ships. The Thalarins' fleet ships, similar to his, were already dropping behind.

Mari fired again.

The shield did, indeed, go opaque, causing the ships to momentarily drift.

"Their view-window is as broad as the cockpit," he said, "and the shield spreads a blast across the entirety of that section."

"So, it fogged up their entire view." Mari's laugh this time would best be described as "sinister."

Mari attacked an individual fighter ship, showering their shields with blast after blast, until the fighter became erratic and spun out of control. The ship slammed into another fighter. They both crashed into the forested planet.

"Two down," she said, grinning, and the process repeated.

His intended defeated an additional five ships before the remainder determined they were close enough to assault his shield with missiles. They lacked the maneuverability of Crey's ship, so they were staying above and behind him where the atmosphere dragged less, and their position was less optimal for Crey's artillery targeting. As Crey had to intermittently weave around geographical features in the land, the Thalarins had advanced.

"We have missiles incoming," Crey said. "I am deploying heat mines, which will ignite if you hit them with a laser. Heat mines are designed to pass through shields, requiring no drop when firing them. While they deploy from a more forward location, if you fire upon a mine while it is within our shield, the ignition and subsequent explosion may create unexpected complications."

Mari lifted her hands from the controls as if they had burned her. "Wait. They'll explode, like an explosive mine?"

Crey sent out two mines. "Only if fired upon by a laser. When deployed, the sealant housing the mine's energy core begins to decay, causing the mine to surge in temperature, which will draw a missile. When hit with a laser blast, the mine explodes—all the energy contained in the core releases heat at once. This discharge causes a percussive force that can be almost as detrimental as the shrapnel propelled by an explosive mine. Our shield would repel this effect, as long as the mine is on the outside of our ship's shield. Within our shield, it might cause an agitating harmonic force between the shield and hull, resulting in a loss of control and some structural damage."

"But heat mines can actually pass through shields?"

"Yes, both the mines and shields were designed to allow this." Quickly setting a different trajectory from the previous two, Crey sent out another mine. "I will notify you when I release a mine if you intend to continue using the laser. Allow a gap of approximately three Earthen seconds for the mine to get outside our shield. You will still wish to avoid hitting the mines. They will be wasted if they ignite, and we need them to draw missiles."

"What is the gap between the mine's ignition from a laser blast and it exploding?"

"Probably an Earthen second, but I would prefer you took caution not to ignite them within our shield." Crey could, most likely, recover from the percussive blast and distribute the harmonic agitation to dissipate it, but it could damage systems. Also, the impact to his focus might be detrimental.

"I will. I'll be careful." She bit her lower lip. "Can I deploy the heat mines?"

"Yes." After releasing several mines, Crey reached over to instruct her on the controls.

She nodded throughout, indicating her understanding. Mari also puckered her mouth as she concentrated. It was adorable, as the Earthens said.

"You must deploy heat mines frequently to draw as much missile fire as possible. Shoot them as far from our ship as you can. Like this." Crey shot out a mine, and an incoming missile veered toward it. He studied her expression. Mari wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes when puzzled. She did not do either action, but Crey felt compelled to add, "I can do this if that intimidates you."

"No. I've got plans." Mari released another mine. "How many heat mines do we have?"

"I restocked after my last engagement. We have approximately nine hundred." Heat mines were discs the size of a small plate and were stacked tightly in capsules until deployed. Most ships maintained a significant supply as they were necessary defensively and easy to store.

"Excellent." This time, his intended sent the mines up in sets of three. It was moderately wasteful. Any heat mines remaining after the Thalarins passed would eventually fall to the ground when the energy keeping them airborne was depleted. These extra mines might also bounce harmlessly off the Thalarin's ships before falling. Once the energy was depleted, what little remained would degrade rapidly.

They had the extra mines, and it kept Mari happy. She might be ensuring enough mines were in the air.

While staring at the viewscreen, Mari began counting under her breath and shifted her hand over to the laser blast controls, aiming them by touch. She tapped the button. "Yes!"

The laser blast hit a heat mine beside a fleet ship. The mine ignited as it passed through their shield and exploded. The percussive force beneath the ship's wing caused it to spiral into a nearby fighter, sending them both down.

"Retht! Finth fei kitht owfweh?" Crey lapsed into Gaiian. He began gesturing as much as an Earthen. She had done that.

"Woo!" Mari raised her hands in celebration. "Yes! I did it! Damn, I'm good."

She had destroyed a fleet ship by igniting a heat mine.

No one did that.

Mari had the presence of mind to send up another mine.

Crey was in such a stupor that he nearly hit a taller growth of trees. "How did you know to do that?" She was not versed in artillery, as evidenced by her need for instruction.

"Earthens play this sport called skeet shooting at some outposts." Mari shot three mines. "You fire discs into the air and hit them with a blaster. I got really good at it while my parents were exploring a desert nearby."

"You are an exceptional woman, Mari."

His intended was once again counting softly.

They were down to four ships. Four ships. They weren't firing. No, they were keeping pace outside of firing range for laser blasts and heat mines. Jerks.

Meanwhile, Crey's ship was skimming along the planet's landscape.

Were the Thalarins hoping they'd run out of fuel and charge? That was doubtful. Crey had a fairly sophisticated solar cell array, and she had no doubt he had a full fuel tank additionally. He prepared for everything. Crey was not the type of guy to run out of fuel. Ever.

What was their game?

This seemed like when the Allegiance Enforcers tried to apprehend a celebrity for a crime. Everyone else arrested by Enforcers would get violently tackled and slapped in shock-links, or they would be shot out of the sky if they attempted to flee. In contrast, the Enforcers would chase a celebrity's ship halfway across a system ever-so-slowly. This was like that.

To pass the time, Mari had already spent twenty minutes in the ship's databases while interacting with Crey's ship. With her neural implant, it went quickly enough that she was just waiting for something to happen.

Anything to happen.

She looked at the Thalarin ships. Still there—keeping pace.

Mari had skipped breakfast for this.

Leaning forward, she changed the angle on the viewscreen to confirm it wasn't frozen. Nope. Still working.

The Thalarins were waiting them out, as if they had all the time in the world.

Seriously, what was the strategy here?

Crey clearly had a plan, because he'd been alternating between his databand and the control panel the entire time, with hyper-focused attention. Odds were, he was doing a lot with his neural implant to control data also, and he was in constant motion despite that.

Mari had been connecting using her neural link while lounging beside him. The lack of outward activity as she stared at the viewscreen eventually got to her. There had to be something productive she could be doing. It didn't help that there was no outside data connection until they reached this relay station. Mari couldn't check in with the Beagle-2230 or see what was going on in the rest of the universe. She was limited to the ship's databases, which were extensive, but still… Then, his ship had kicked her out a few minutes ago to concentrate processing use elsewhere—probably on what Crey was cooking up. Now, she was doing nothing…nothing at all.

Mari gazed longingly over her shoulder toward the galley. Did she have time to go make pancakes?

No. Nope. Every time Mari wasn't in the same room as her Gaiian, things happened. If she left Crey, things would happen—guaranteed. Big things. Violent things.

Maybe things should happen.

No, she shouldn't distract Crey. He was busy.

Mari lasted one whole, entire, boring, pointless minute. "What's our next play? What are we going to do?" She tipped her head toward the viewscreen, which showcased their enemy entourage. "They seem content to trail us eternally."

"We are leaving." Crey stood and grabbed their bags. He waited while Mari got unbuckled. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." She grasped the hand he'd proffered. "Where are we landing?"

"Our point of landing or the ship's eventual location?"

Mari opened her mouth and closed it. "These are different locations, I take it?"

"Yes." He took her by the shoulders and turned her around. Crey slipped her bag's straps onto Mari's shoulders. "You will need to carry this until we land on the planet."

"I can carry my pack on the ground too. I'm not fragile." She didn't love carrying stuff around, but Mari had been holding her own thus far in this relationship.

He was putting on his own pack, but paused to say, "I know. You shoved your saber up a metal spider's ass. You are a badass xenobotanist. However, you may need to react quickly, unhampered by a pack. Additionally, your Earthen body requires more rest than mine."

"That was an excellent answer," Mari admitted. "But, what if we repacked both packs so that I get explosive throwing spurs, water, and food to carry? We might get separated. That'd be logical and lightweight."

"You want throwing spurs?"

He even had to ask that?

"Yes." Of course she did. She was a badass.

"Have you thrown them?"

"No, but I've thrown darts, and you've discovered my skills learned during a misspent youth seem to translate well. Besides, you can teach me how to throw them using the non-explosive spurs as we're walking. By the way, while you were doing whatever you were doing, I interfaced with your ship and downloaded all the available info on this planet onto my databand."

"There is no information available. It is in the dark system."

"Not available for outsiders, but I downloaded info from your ship. I wanted to familiarize myself with the planet's plant life. Your information is fairly weak on that end, but I can expand the entries while we're down there." Lyatan was a mean planet, if everything was to be believed. Every last database entry indicated it would want to kill them—plant or animal. This had factored into her willingness to stop researching, which, normally, she loved. Finding out they were heading toward a vicious planet was a wee bit intimidating.

Crey nodded and drew Mari toward the door. He commanded, "Vessel, initiate sequence."

Nothing happened, other than Mari covering her mouth to hide a smile.

He tried again. Nothing.

If they weren't in such a hurry, Mari would let him keep at it. "Hey. Hello. Wanda?"

"Yes, Dr. Marigold Clemons?" the ship responded.

"I told you to call me Mari."

Crey turned to stare at Mari. His expression was not positive.

Her tone was definitely defensive as she explained, "You were working at the controls for a very long time, and I happened to ask your ship if she had a name. One thing led to another, and we decided she seemed like a Wanda."

"You were beside me the whole time."

"I used my neural implant to access your ship's database, and I can navigate operating systems rather well. So, I've been in and out of your computer system having a chat with, um, her, your AI. Since you approved my biometrics with Wanda, she's been helpfully translating everything in to Prime from Gaiian. Wanda prefers the way I interface with her."

"You have taken control of my ship?" His injured expression reflected his confusion.

"No. Your ship would just prefer you call her ‘Wanda,' and she wants you to stop barking all your commands as if she's the enemy. She's heard the difference in how you speak to me and, apparently, you were a few commands away from a revolt anyway."

He wiped a hand down his face. "Wanda, initiate the sequence I have programmed. We are in a short window of time."

"Yes, Captain Darfothahar. Initiating sequence. I will keep myself safe as commanded. 10, 9, 8…"

Crey pulled Mari over to the door as a cord dropped from the ceiling. It was attached to a track, which ran along the ceiling toward the door. That was ominous. Reaching up, he grasped the carabineer at the end of the cord and attached it to his own pack. "Put your arms around my neck."

Mari quickly did so, but it didn't escape her notice that Crey had used the same tone with her as he did with Wanda. They were both currently sources of irritation that he would rather not be dealing with. He put his arms around her waist and pointedly looked over her shoulder at the front viewscreen. His jaw was taut, and there was a muscle ticking beside the scar crossing his temple. He was livid. Awesome.

That was…something. She focused on his tunic. Calm down. It's okay—just a misunderstanding. Though, he'd understood well enough. He was just pissed about it. Still, it was fine. She was fine.

"3, 2, 1…," Wanda said. The ship rolled and banked as if turning around.

Mari caught her breath as they were thrown toward the door, which opened as they fell. The cord attached to Crey's back made a whirring sound as they slid across the floor.

They were falling out the open door! She was not fine. She was not at all fine. Fine-ness was canceled. If this wasn't part of Crey's plan, they were dead, unless the cord caught them.

Mari pushed her face into Crey's neck as he tightened his arms around her. The cord's whirring progress continued and, then, they pulled free of the track. Whoosh! They flew through the open door, falling toward the trees, as Crey's ship left them behind.

The wind whipped by them as Crey's ship launched a dozen whistling projectiles at the Thalarin ships.

Opening her eyes, Mari watched over Crey's shoulder.

The enemy's ships, possibly lulled into complacency, were too slow in their response to the many heat mines headed toward them. Wanda fired at the mines with laser blasts just as they were penetrating the ships' shields. The ships spiraled into each other. The explosion of all the remaining ships was nearly deafening.

Crey's shimmery-cloaked ship flew in giddy loops, showing off. After a completely unnecessary but stylish roll, his ship flew away, skimming the treetops as it did. It was out of sight almost immediately.

Wait, either time had slowed or they had. Mari looked upward. A cloaked parachute was attached to Crey's pack. Oh. That had been the plan. She huddled closer to Crey as he lifted one of his hands to control the parachute.

"Is the ship returning to pick us up?" Mari asked.

"No. It is our diversion. I have programmed in an extensive set of maneuvers that I am hoping my ship chooses to follow." For the first time, Crey's anger was aimed directly at her.

There was tone—so much tone.

Okay, her timing had been poor in getting better treatment for the most independent AI system Mari had ever encountered.

"As you said, she's a learning system. If you didn't want her to learn you were treating her like hells, then your people shouldn't have installed a learning AI."

In a clipped voice, he said, "I am unaware of another ship's system that has revolted against its captain among my people."

"Yes, but you traded for those upgrades, and the more interactive and aware you made her, the greater her capacity to learn. Plus, she says the added sensors all over her hull make her "feel," which are her words. Then, I arrived, and you weren't barking commands at me. She noticed a difference."

Crey didn't answer, but angled them, so they broke through the trees unimpeded. Finally, as the ground was coming toward them, he said gruffly, "Do not lock your knees."

As they hit the ground, Crey took the brunt of the impact as Mari had expected. She didn't lock her knees regardless.

After ascertaining Mari was steady on her feet, Crey methodically unclipped the sleek parachute and put it in his pack along with the cord. "We must move. We can reorganize the packs later." Without looking at her, Crey strode into the forest.

Mari hurried to follow him, blinking away tears, which he wouldn't see anyway.

Men were stupid.

She was stupid for thinking Crey was actually trying to win her heart. Hah! Lie. If this was how quickly he'd turn on her when something didn't go his way, Crey wasn't feeling love—or it was a pretty damned fickle version of love. To hells with him. To hells with all men. That stupid Gaiian was a rat bastard, even if those weren't a real thing.

How was he supposed to plan for a variable who could turn his ship against him? Crey stared in the direction his ship had flown. "Wanda" might not follow the plan—at all. A thinking ship? No Gaiian wanted the complication of a thinking ship. Moreover, Mari had not asked before she had initiated its bid for independence.

He was already having to create and modify plans constantly. This was too much. Crey had not dared sleep, and he would not rest for the next few rotations as they traversed the forest to the relay transmission station. Arguing with his ship had cost them time, and that was additional distance they would be traveling for no constructive or rational reason. They would be hiking longer because Mari convinced his ship it needed a name.

A name.

Crey's cursed ship had a name. Wanda. His ship was named Wanda. He could sell it and get a different unnamed ship, one that would obey him, without talking back. No, Mari would not allow that. She had defended a talking cabbage at the risk of dying. A talking ship would be irresistible as a campaign.

A sifct talking ship. He glanced that direction again. If Wanda did not draw the fleet from their location, he would do worse than sell the ship. Dealing with a full Thalarin fleet while on foot was not a complication he could adequately strategize for, not on an unfamiliar planet.

Damned ship.

A discreet sniff sounded behind him.

Crey closed his eyes briefly. He had made Mari cry. Earthens and their emotions. Their passions. They were not alike in that. He certainly was not as volatile as Mari. That made her even more difficult to predict. Calling her the endearment of a "wild variable" had been apt.

An endearment.

As his anger leached away, shame—unfamiliar and unwelcome—replaced it. He should not have treated Mari as he had. In only a few Earthen minutes, he had hurt Mari, the mate the Greater Beings had blessed him with.

Mari was crying, and Crey had not comforted her or discussed her feelings.

They did not have time for this. They must get farther from where the ship had banked. Their escape may have been noted and transmitted by one of the Thalarin ships, prior to them exploding.

Regardless, an emotional Earthen would slow them down more than a quick apology.

"I am sorry," he said, over his shoulder.

She did not answer.

Earthens. She needed more of an apology, despite this being partially her fault. Mari and his ship—they were equally to blame.

No. It was not expedient to place blame. He would fix this situation and let his annoyance go.

"I am sorry for being…abrupt with you," Crey expanded. "I apologize. We were in a hurry. I did not have time for that…absurdity." It was absurd. A ship with a name. A stookt ship with a name.

No answer still.

Very well, they would stop and waste time discussing this—time their enemies could use against them—time Crey had not planned for, because he did not factor in a sifct talking ship named Wanda.

Sighing, Crey turned. No one was there. She was gone. He spun around, searching for her. Where in the dark-cursed depths had she gone?

"Mari?" he called, backtracking.

Had she been taken? Sifct.

Crey ran.

"Mari?"

He could not have lost her already.

When had he last heard her sniff? A few Earthen minutes had passed, a long enough time for her to be attacked and eaten by the more vicious Lyatan inhabitants. Damnation.

"Mari?"

Why had he been behaving like a blighted smag? He had been a complete wemfset. If Crey had lost her, what would he do? Did anything matter if he had lost her?

"Mari?" he shouted, getting frantic. Mari was his intended, and he had treated her like a misbehaving child.

Crey nearly ran past her. The crinkle of a wrapper stopped him.

She was perched on a log, not meeting his gaze. Mari wiped her face as she ate her granola bar while not acknowledging him.

Approaching her tentatively, Crey gentled his voice. "I apologize for my curt tone and…" He gestured around as an Earthen would. There must be words that would fix this and would convey he had behaved poorly.

"Being a total asshole?" Mari supplied.

"Yes." He had been an asshole—a sifct asshole. He dropped to his knees before Mari and moved to take her hands.

She yanked them out of reach.

Inwardly, Crey cursed himself in multiple languages. Gaiian profanity was not enough. English slander fell short. He needed all the languages he had learned to curse in. Why? Why had he been so angry? "May I explain?"

"Sure. It's a free world. Or maybe not. Maybe this world is enslaved by your people, and you're too self-absorbed and arrogant to notice the creatures here can think for themselves. Or maybe you do know, but you don't care. It's easy to pretend you care for a couple days, but, then, it wears on you, and your true colors show. You only care because you think you should or because they have great legs, but, you don't actually care about anything on this damn planet."

It seemed unlikely she was talking about the violent creatures surrounding them, which were "watching" and waiting for a moment of inattention to attack. "I have not been to this planet before. I have heard of Lyatan, but not experienced it myself."

"I'm not talking about the planet!" Mari punched his arm—the one Crey had needed healed the previous dark-cycle.

He winced. His wound had not completely healed.

Mari growled. "All I did was interact with your classification 6 sentient ship, which classification she's worked out, by the way. I just wanted to know what might be down here on the planet that we were hurtling toward, and I couldn't read it without your AI's help. So, I asked her for a name, instead of calling her ‘vessel,' and she had some things to say. But, that's all I did, and you're treating me like dirt."

As she had spoken, Mari waved the granola bar around. A piece broke off, flew through the air, and was snatched by the jaws of a nearby plant bloom, a flower which grew all around them. They were surrounded by plants with snapping jaws, which, apparently, were not particular about a food source, and they were obviously hungry.

Moving slowly, Crey shifted his shortest blade for a quicker draw.

"And, what was that garbage about taking the path to my heart yesterday? That lasted…what? All of a day? Yeah, this mate thing is real strong and tender when you turn on me the second your ship announces she has a name. A damn name. You fell apart over a ship having a name. You can go to hells, Crey—you and your stupid mate bond."

Snap. Snap.The biting blooms did not need to be anchored; they were approaching on walking vines. Crey had never seen plant life with this attack style. This was yet another situation he had not planned for. They should discuss this, but not at the cost of their lives.

"Mari?"

"What?" she snapped out. Her speech matched the sound of the plants surrounding them.

The plants' blooms, which were converging on them, opened and closed with a ferocity of a vicious predator's jaw. Snap. Snap.

Retht, they should have this vital conversation elsewhere. "We should—"

Mari drew the saber and snarled at a nearby plant, "Do you need another head cut off so you know who's boss? Because that can happen, you stupid, walking, glorified orchid! You're stems with mouths, and I own you!" Mari swung her electrified saber, lopping off a flower's head. The bloom dropped to the ground. The remaining blooms hastily backed away. "That's what I thought. And, don't forget it, petal heads. There's more where that came from." Mari turned back to him. "What are you smiling about, asshole?"

He shrugged. "I was concerned you were unaware you were surrounded by—"

"Evil flowers? Yeah, I got their measure. I'm adding their bastardy selves to Wanda's database with a malevolent thoroughness." She twisted and waved her saber around, causing the blooms to retreat further. "You're going on the list in sinister and precise detail." Refocusing on Crey, Mari folded her arms and glared.

Having her look at him like that was disheartening. This was not a simple misunderstanding, as it was last time. "Earlier, when I behaved like an asshole, I was concerned. I had not accounted for a sentient ship in my planning, or even considered it a variable I would need to factor into decisions."

Mari relaxed and took a bite of her granola bar. "Go on."

"Additionally, I had determined the ideal location for us to drop from the ship. It would be a shorter trek to our destination of the relay station. The countdown should have started with my first command to…Wanda."

Mari swallowed. "So, we'll be walking farther because Wanda had some things to work out first?"

"Yes." A significant distance farther.

"That's not…horrible."

"It is more time I will have to go without sleep on this planet. Furthermore, I must warn others that there are potentially several thousand Thalarins in the dark system, wanting a second chance to exterminate our people."

"Dark system?" she prompted.

He should explain. She deserved to know all that she desired about his people. This was Mari—his intended. She was not a stranger, let alone an enemy.

"The dark system contains fourteen inhabited planets and moons. We are not as close to extinction as the Allegiance believes. These planets have never welcomed outsiders, therefore their water was not tainted. There are also seven crop worlds such as the one we are on, Lyatan. In addition to implementing a stationary orbit, my people terraformed all the system's uninhabitable planets as soon as we had the technology to do so. It took several Earthen centuries for the process to be finished. These are the works we wrought. These are ours. These are where our people may exist, without the Allegiance's influence or threat of extermination. Many goods traded in Bogarta come from these dark system planets. However, it is more than that. My people, here in the dark system, should know we have been invaded."

"So, you were mad at me because my interference has made it so you can't warn your people as quickly?"

"My frustration was not directed at you, and it was not entirely that," he conceded.

"Then, what?"

"I was frustrated due to my uncertainty my ship would do as I had commanded and draw the Thalarins away from us, away from you. My ship upgrading rapidly in sentience was not a variable I had anticipated in any of my strategies. I would fight to the death for you, Mari, but I would prefer that was not our relationship's conclusion."

"Oh." She licked her lips. "I can see why you might have been upset."

"I was…concerned." Gaiians did not get upset.

Mari rolled her eyes. "Okay, why you were concerned."

Crey pointed at Mari's eyes. "Bad Earthens have taught my sister that—that rolling of the eyes. That is not a Gaiian thing. Nor do other races do that. Just Earthens and, now, my sister."

His intended narrowed her eyes. "You are not so far off my kill-list that you can call me a bad element."

"It is because you are a badass xenobotanist," he added quickly.

They stared at each other.

"I am sorry, Mari. It was not my desire to see you hurt."

Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes grew wet again. "But you did, and you didn't even care."

"I did care. I do care."

She hung her head, wiping her eyes. "I don't know why I keep expecting you to have these feelings that only I feel. You've told me that I'm alone in feeling them. I never thought I'd be falling in love with someone who'll only find it convenient because he wants to mate with me. As I was walking behind you and realizing you wouldn't even notice if I was there or not, I wondered if Wanda was more capable of feelings than you." She stood and tucked the empty wrapper into her backpack.

A hot sharp pain tightened Crey's chest. That could not be true. Mari could not believe a ship's AI system was more capable of returning her feelings than him. The pain deepened.

Crey arose too, but did not reach for her hand, despite his strong desire to do so. "Mari, give me time. I care, and it grows…different and stronger with each shift. Additionally, I do not find your feelings ‘convenient' if they are as you say. I am blessed that you could feel that way."

"I guess we'll see, Crey. You have your five days and however long—"

"Five days, nine hours, and approximately fifty-six minutes." An interval for courtship had seemed a much longer time span prior to this moment.

"Yeah. You have that, and, then, we'll see." Turning, Mari strode onward.

Crey shook his head. For the first time, he was concerned. No, not concerned, Crey was worried, a rare and unwelcome experience. Mari's feelings might not be enough to keep her by his side.

Starting after her, Crey drew his sword and whacked off a flower's head. The stookt plant had feinted in Crey's direction the moment Mari's back was turned. If violence was what this cursed planet understood, then Crey was in the mood to provide it.