CHAPTER 9

Reece

T here were many thoughts swirling around my brain, but the one that stood out to me the most was what the fuck? Seriously, what the actual fuck had I gotten myself into? I was stuck on a ship with a guy I’d grown up hating, my captain couldn’t even remember to put on pants, the CWO I was assigned to work under was clumsy, scatter-brained and had no sense of boundaries or propriety, and my team leader was a sheltered virgin that blushed at everything except talking about sex. Which apparently was something I blushed over.

Oh, and there was some evil plot that included torturous experiments on live subjects that was not only illegal but had caught the attention of military personnel. And not in a good way.

To add insult to injury, the bane of my existence had somehow managed to earn a damn promotion. Tarren Christianson was in charge of his very own team, and that was a horrifying concept. If he managed to earn himself any more promotions and end up with authority over even more cadets, I may as well just throw myself into the air lock and let myself get sucked out in the vacuum of space.

But back to a more recent discovery… How a man around my own age could not only never have had sex but not understand his own sexuality was mind-blowing. I simply could not wrap my head around it. I understood that people figured things out in their own ways and on their own timelines, but this didn’t feel right. I had yet to witness Arty’s reactions to women, though he didn’t have much of one towards the CWO who was an undeniably attractive woman. Even more so when she was standing still versus scrambling to get out of the piles of junk she somehow ended up constantly buried be neath.

Arty’s reaction to men was a sure indicator that he was gay, but somehow either didn’t know it or was suppressing all of his sexual tendencies because of how he was raised.

Which was where my concern came in. Not only for him but because from the tiny morsel of information he had imparted it sounded as if he was raised in a cult. Those had always been actively eradicated by the IU. They did manage to pop up here and there before being promptly squashed, and we’d hear about it in the news on occasion, but it was so rare now. I wondered if it was worth reporting to the captain, just in case.

I resolved to ask him more about it before I took any action, though. I didn’t want to shine a spotlight on someone’s family and homelife without due cause, and if I could present more concrete evidence of the goings on within Arty’s past it would make things easier for everyone involved.

On the other hand, going behind my team leader’s back didn’t sit right with me, and that raised the question of the morality. If I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong and caused problems for someone who was supposed to be able to trust me, I couldn’t come back from that. It would completely destroy the incrementally small amount of trust we had begun to build as a team and destroy any good standing I had as a team player.

But beyond self-preservation, was it really necessary to dig deeper into his past? I was concerned that a traumatic upbringing would have some negative side-effects, but I had yet to witness anything more than his reservation. He’d tell me what he wanted to, if and when he wanted to. I shouldn’t pry. Yet I’d always been a curious creature by nature, and my desire to learn more about the unusual man would undoubtedly win out over everything else. It always did.

When my thoughts gave way to my surroundings, I realised that Arty had finished eating before everyone else, which seemed to be common theme with him, and was waiting by the door while he messed the holo-tab.

‘We should hurry,’ I told the others, tilting my chin in Arty’s direction as explanation.

‘Stars. That man scarfs down food like it’s gonna disappear on him or something,’ Bromm whined, though it wasn’t entirely clear if it was a true complaint or more of a harried observation.

Foryk was the first to finish. The oversized man practically inhaled his breakfast to catch up with Arty. I was quick to follow, and Bromm didn’t even manage to finish his meal before we were dragging him to dump his tray. He was full on pouting when we met up with Arty, who scowled at us.

‘You should have let him finish his food,’ he chastised. ‘He’ll need the strength.’

With that parting barb he turned and walked out, pressing the button to summon the elevator at the end of the hall. We climbed in, and I was pleased to have the space to ourselves for once. Foryk lumbered inside, frowning at Arty as if he could protect the offended prince from his insults with only the ferocity of his glare. Bromm was back to pouting, poking at his soft belly as if its lack of visible muscle definition determined the level of his strength.

Truthfully, I believed Arty didn’t mean anything by it other than bluntly keeping those he was responsible for in the best health. This was the military, after all, and that included an abundance of physical labour, which required a significant amount of fuel. I would have to clear that up with the other two away from Arty’s range of hearing. I didn’t want him to feel like he had done something wrong. He was just a blunt guy, and that was honestly pretty refreshing. There wasn’t any dilly-dallying or beating around the bush when it came to him, which was a breath of fresh air compared to the slicing and backhanded remarks I was used to.

‘We’ve been summoned to deck two again. CWO Brin requested our team specifically to assist her with organising the storeroom until we rotate to classes,’ he informed us.

We didn’t bother waiting for the CWO to show up and escort us to the storeroom like she had the day before. We knew where we were going, so we went straight there. Arty knocked on the door before placing his hand on the scanner. It flashed white, then the door slid open. Luckily, he had already braced himself for the worst, because as soon as there was a large enough opening junk tumbled out as if a massive pile of it had been propped against the door. Why someone would block the only exit to that room off all rooms, I would never understand, but CWO Brin’s brain certainly could never be considered ‘normal’.

What did knock the tall, lean man off his feet, however, was the blur of pink that ran at him full speed with a high-pitched squeal.

‘Thank the stars, you’re finally here!’ CWO Brin screeched from her position on top of a prone Arty.

He grunted and groaned when Brin dug her bony limbs into different parts of his body as she attempted to removed herself from the position. Her expression momentarily changed when her hand lay flat against his chest, but it reverted back to her giddiness as if nothing had happened

Eventually, Foryk leaned over and literally picked her up and set her on her feet, and I leaned over to offer my hand to the winded man still left on the floor. He took it with a grateful smile, and I heaved him up, but there was something odd about it. When I touched him, I expected his skin to be rough and calloused. I couldn’t put my finger on why I didn’t believe him to have hands that suggested a life of labour, but they were silky soft and smooth. More like an aristocratic woman’s hands than a military man’s.

I supposed his experiences here would reshape them, reform them into something thick, cracked, and coarse.

It was a sad thought, to lose that softness. Whomever he ended up discovering his sexuality with was a lucky man, but I wondered what it would feel like to have those hands running over me.

Woah… That thought totally came out of nowhere and blindsided me. I was not interested in men sexually. Never had been, and though the idea wasn’t entirely repulsive since I was in no way homophobic, it had never appealed to me in the slightest. Even now, the thought of stripping him naked to uncover a flat chest and an appendage between his legs was a total turn off.

But if he was a woman?

I studied his features as he turned sideways to squeeze through a small gap between piles, careful not to touch anything for fear of causing another avalanche. The only way to describe him was… delicate. Small, upturned nose. Full pink lips. A dotting of freckles over his nose and cheekbones. The way his brown hair flopped in front of his face, and then the way he tucked it behind his ear. The heart-shaped face that ended in a point at his chin, reminiscent of my Yu’Rom mother’s delicately feminine features. But there was nothing that screamed ‘Yu’Rom’ to me beyond that. He was very clearly Terran, most likely a pureblood like most of the people I had grown up with.

Like Tarren.

Even his name was a derivative of ‘Terran’. The whole community disgusted me with their purist ideals and blatant shunning and mistreatment of anything other . But Arty wasn’t like them, I reminded myself. He was blunt and direct, sure, but not cruel. I had seen nothing that suggested he was in any way bigoted or a bully.

My mother would adore him.

To be fair, he was the kind of guy I would want to shrink and keep in my pocket. His naivety was oddly adorable, and even though he was technically my superior, I wanted to protect him. I felt like he needed more protection than most, because it was increasingly obvious how much his hard outer shell was a shield for a softness that could be – and probably had been – used against him. His core was soft and squishy and it would be so easy to scoop that out and turn him into an empty vessel.

No. Arty needed someone to take him under their wing, and I was just the man for the job. I didn’t think he had much by the way of friendship or loyalty in the past, and I could do with a friend. I’d had friendly acquaintances in the past, but due to my mixed blood in a purist community, I wasn’t exactly anyone’s first pick.

Perhaps Arty could be that friend I’d always longed for.

The more I watched him interact with an overeager Brin, patient and attentive despite the barrage of words pouring from her mouth and her innate ability to destroy everything she touched, the more I could envision it.

I wanted it.

While he was occupied by the CWO, I took the opportunity to pull Foryk and Bromm aside to have words. ‘I don’t think Arty meant to insult you before,’ I told Bromm, and Foryk huffed his scepticism.

‘How so?’ Bromm asked, his expression guarded.

‘I think it’s pretty clear he’s a little socially awkward,’ I began, choosing my words carefully. ‘But I also think he cares enough about us as his team to try to ensure our wellbeing.’

The Griknot tapped a finger against his lips, his beard tangling around his other digits. ‘Go on.’

I sighed. ‘Arty’s heart is in the right place. He understands that military training is intensive and involves a lot of labour. I don’t think he was commenting on your physique so much as your lack of fuel to get you through the day.’

‘Oh,’ Foryk said, glancing at Arty with a look of contemplation.

Bromm, however, beamed at me. ‘Thanks for clearing that up. He’s lucky to have you to translate for him.’

Then he clapped me on the back and went back to work with a whistle and a hop in his step. I wasn’t the only one taken aback by his dramatic shift in attitude, either, but I was pleased with the results of our conversation, nonetheless.

???

For the next few days we worked with CWO Brin on restoring her storeroom to something that resembled a well-utilised, organised space than a safety-hazard. I kept my distance from the others for the most part. Foryk and Bromm seemed to have built a steady friendship and where one was, so was the other. The inseparableness was suspicious, though, for there was no way they clicked on such a deep level after only just meeting.

I had an inkling that they were friends before enlisting and were keeping those details under wraps. Why, I wasn’t sure. They were closer than most friends, uncaring of what anyone else would consider crossing boundaries with their casual touches and stuck-at-the-hip mentality, but only with one another. Foryk seemed especially protective of the Griknot prince, and I wondered if perhaps they were in an established relationship.

Except, I had never witnessed any blatantly sexual or romantic moments between them. Touches were commonplace but remained platonic, and they kept to their own bunks. When they woke in the mornings with an obvious case of morning wood, they would take turns in the bathroom to rid themselves of the issue, but never at the same time. It could have been due to the lack of space for manoeuvring in the cramped bathroom with Foryk’s sheer size, but neither one of them was especially amorous with the other. Just close.

I decided it was best not to ask.

Arty was even more distant ever since our conversation. I didn’t know if it was because he was uncomfortable with opening up, or if he felt he had said too much. Or perhaps he was just disinterested in building a friendship with anyone, including me.

I sensed his need to remove himself from social situations, and he was always awake and waiting in the corridor for us to get ready. I suspected that was a way for him to avoid the hard-ons the other two had been waving about without a care first thing in the morning. After the second time Bromm teased Arty for eyeing him up like a piece of meat, he simply stopped allowing for repeat offences. And I didn’t blame him. After watching Foryk and Bromm, if Arty fancied either one of them it would have been disheartening to realise he probably didn’t stand a chance.

If that’s what was happening. I still wasn’t entirely certain.

Regardless, I intended to catch Arty when he was alone to try and start up another conversation. If I wanted him to open up to me I was going to have to make the first move. I didn’t want to push him too hard too fast, however, so I simply kept to keeping him company. We worked in a companiable silence, at meals together, and even if we didn’t speak with words I could feel the bond between us growing.

I was doing things the right way, it seemed. though we still had a long way to go, I was pleased with the progress. Just yesterday we had an altercation with Tarren during the midday meal. He had not only attempted to trip me but had tried to tip my tray of food onto me. Arty had stepped in and steadied it, preventing the mess while somehow managing to trip Tarren up instead. When I tried to thank him he simply shrugged and sat down to eat in silence.

Getting that man to trust me was like trying to tame a wild animal. Possible, but only with time and patience and an acknowledgement that he might run away if pushed too much. Definitely a skittish one, that man, but at least there was hope. His protectiveness could have been a result of being on the same team, or maybe because he felt responsible for us as our team leader. Or it could have been that he cared and this was his way of expressing it. Regardless, I was grateful.

But something changed on the fourth day. During the organisation of the deck two storage room, we had a surprise visitor and, for some reason, Arty completely shut down. One moment we were working side-by-side in a companionable silence, listening to Brin’s constant chatter while we settled into our system. Find an object, determine its purpose, place it into its respective pile to be sorted at a later date. Arty and I dug, Bromm ran them to the piles, and Foryk blocked Brin from destroying our progress.

But then the captain appeared, a face like thunder as he stormed into the room. He made a beeline for Arty, and we all halted where we were. Our tasks were forgotten as we watched everything unfold with a growing sense of unease.

They spoke in voices too low to discern, and the expression on Arty’s face grew darker and darker as he frowned at whatever was being said. Then he shook his head vehemently.

‘No, you’re mistaken. He would never do something like that and there was no possible way he was even in the vicinity.’ Arty’s voice was stern and certain, but the captain looked unmoved.

‘I’m informing you of what’s about to happen out of respect for your position as his team leader, Cadet, but I am apprehending Reece Hastings,’ the captain hissed through clenched teeth, and the world ground to a halt.

While Bromm and Foryk looked to one another for support, Arty made eye contact with Brin from the other side of the pile. She looked pissed, and she appeared ready to launch herself at the captain and claw his eyes out. We had gathered that she and the captain were close friends. We’d originally assumed they were involved in another capacity, but she shot that down as soon as Bromm gathered enough courage to bring it up.

‘Sir?’ I asked, an almost imperceptible shake to my voice as he approached me with handcuffs already extended.

‘Get up, Cadet. Hands behind your back.’

I nodded, picked myself off from my position on the floor and dusted myself off, then followed the captain outside. I would have the chance to defend myself, but with the way he was jaw was set and his determination to arrest me, I knew that now wasn’t the time. I heard the others’ raised voices as we stepped inside the elevator, the door dropping shut with the telltale whoosh and click.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked now that we were alone, struggling to comprehend what was happening and what I was being arrested for. I wracked my brain for anything I had done that could have been considered in any way a crime but could not think of a single thing.

‘Shut up and keep moving,’ he spat out, and the way he glared down at me sent a shiver of apprehension up my spine. Whatever he thought I had done, it was clearly bad. I was innocent, though I could tell I would be in for a fight to clear my name. But first I had to figure out what it was I was being accused of.

As the elevator rose through the decks and spat us out on a higher level us cadets did not have access to, the gravity of the situation tried to pin me beneath its immovable weight. The only thing that kept me moving forward, one foot in front of the other and slow, deep breaths to calm my racing heart, was the way Arty had stood up for me. He hadn’t doubted me or my character for a second, and even tried to speak up in my defence. It may not have worked, but it was then that I knew everything was going to be okay.

Away from home and my family, I had left behind the only people who had ever been on my side. But my concern over being isolated and vulnerable here had lessened now that I had someone at my back.

I would get through this, and I wouldn’t have to do it alone.