Page 11 of Star Bright
Though he yearned to free his fledglings, he would not subject Yadira and Atsu to this hurting. The pods would wake them gently.
Like a loving mother would.
Where was Shanya? Why did he remember his last moments with his fledglings before cryo—ah, curse the fire, how had he forgotten them at all?—but not his mate?
“Shanya,” he whispered. “Where are you?”
“Vash?”
The query pitched like a lifting thermal, soft and feminine. Not his mate calling to him. Darcy.
Why had he come here, to the Intergalactic Dating Agency? Why had he put himself and his fledglings in cryo?
“I’m awake.”
Someone—Darcy?—had replaced the white fabric over his makeshift bed, giving him privacy in the big, empty room. But at his response, she peeked around, nudging a tray toward him. “The main commissary is still locked so all we have is supplies for me and Ug. But according to IDA guest handbook, you should be able to eat any of this, unless you have personal dietary restrictions. It should all be easy for your stomach even after a hundred years in cryo. Definitely no caffeine.”
Sitting up, he eyed the food. Some sort of porridge and small, dry carbohydrates, plus she’d refilled his water. “I am grateful for your help. Especially considering that I almost crashed on you.”
“I’m sorry there isn’t more we can do right now. Hopefully we’ll have more options soon.” While he ate, she explained what she’d heard from her friend. “So, what exactly is a void viper?”
“Noxious vermin that jump from ship to station, infesting everything. They chew through plasteel, even bulkheads.”
She shuddered. “Like bedbugs, except they can eat your car. Nasty. I have to say, between interstellar storms and void vipers, space seems too dangerous for me.”
Chewing a handful of the salty carb nuggets, Vash glanced toward the windows. From this angle, the damage his ship had done wasn’t visible, and a single sun had risen high enough over the tall, darkly spiked vegetation to cast a warm yellow light, shining on every silvery scrim of frost across the rolling yard and patio.
“This place is very peaceful,” he observed. “You must be happy here.”
She followed his gaze. “I’m actually only here for a short-term gig over the holiday. You might not’ve heard Kong call me a closed worlder, but I actually didn’t know about aliens—until you.”
He stiffened, the salt drying in his throat. “Unauthorized exposure to a closed worlder is—”
She held up one hand, stopping him. “Yeah, yeah, so I’ve been told. But Brin released some of the history of this IDA outpost to me, and let’s just say, as far as exposure goes, more than one innocent Earthling lady has seen a lot more alien stuff than any reputable first date advice column would recommend.”
He wanted to be amused, but… “Darcy, why would I come here, to this place of dating? I have a mate.”
She let out a slow breath. “I don’t know, Vash. Apparently, this outpost was much different until recently, and Kong said the contract you signed had no useful details beyond your scheduled arrival—a hundred years ago.”
One hundred years. If Shanya hadn’t gone into stasis as he and the fledglings had…
Darcy touched his clenched fist, summoning him back. “One thing at a time. If you’re done with the oatmeal, Kong said moving around will help with the reanimation aches. Do you want to walk out to the ship and check on the cryo pods?”
He wanted to smash his head until the memories poured out. Instead, he accepted her hand up. Together they made their way out to the ship.
The yellow sun was not as warming as it looked from within his shelter of cushions. Their breaths curled upward, joining then dissipating in the chill air. In the light of day, the damage to the ship was more apparent. Not just the impact to the earth but the myriad tiny scars of one hundred years in space. With no maintenance in all that time and no conscious hand at the helm, they were lucky the ship was able to land even semi intact.
The heavy hum of approaching machinery distracted him. Kong was rolling toward them in front of a flatbed hover cart. “The machinery garage has unlocked,” the droid informed them. “The stasis units may be moved to the lobby while the ship is relocated to a secured hangar.”
“Wouldn’t want any oblivious closed worlders in on the secret,” Darcy muttered.
Since the hover cart had articulated graspers, it was able to lift and load the pods without effort from any of them. Just as well, Vash thought morosely, since the Earther female didn’t have the musculature, the droid didn’t have arms at all—and he could barely hold himself upright.
Darcy must’ve noticed the distress he was poorly hiding, because once the pods were loaded, she pointed at the corner of the cart. “Sit down,” she told him. “Before you fall down.”
He wanted to decline, but she’d brought him porridge, she’d seen him tremble with weakness and fear. What did he think he was hiding from her?
At least he was able to oversee the placement of the pods beside his cushions in the lobby. While outside a multi-armed crane eased the ship from its crater, Darcy pulled one edge of the white curtain over the ends of the pods so he could watch the lights while he rested.
