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Etterian battleship Phoenix
Their shared quarters
A day later.
It took all of Macy’s strength not to roll her eyes. Slumped in a comfy, she shot glances between Illan and Quin staring at each other, their eyebrows wiggling while various expressions crossed their faces. Cyndi had escaped with Iddan, but Macy would’ve been in the same position had she gone with them.
She slapped her knees. “It’s lovely to watch you two chat. Riveting stuff.”
When Quin winced, Macy leaped off the comfy but hesitated. Leaving the room would mean what? Strolling the endless corridors? Chatting to herself like a mad woman? A hobby would be lovely, but what? If she knitted Illan a sweater, would he wear it? She clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a giggle, imagining his expression when one sleeve stopped at his elbow and the other dangled off his fingertips.
Maybe start with a scarf?
She glanced at the replicator. Would it know what knitting needles were? Or a ball of wool?
“I’m sorry, Mace.” Quin yanked Macy into a hug.
She squealed, crushed within her friend’s tight embrace. “I’m fine. Just bored,” she mumbled with her temple smashed against a collarbone. She wiggled to free herself and managed to...just. As soon as she could, she lunged away from Quin, lest she wanted another hug. “You two, go, do your thing. I’m going to...” She twitched her fingers as if they were knitting needles.
Quin and Illan ignored her to converse in silence again.
Leaning over the replicator, Macy punched in her requirements and stared at the variety of colors available. Well, at least there was wool. A rainbow-colored ball snagged her attention. Merino would be lovely but then it pilled, with tiny fuzz balls forming on clothing. Cashmere would be super soft but it wasn’t strong. What she wanted, and this was her gran speaking, was a blend of Merino and silk. She’d lamented for years about the cost of such wool. Biting her lip, Macy ordered four balls. She released her breath with a whoosh when they appeared on the glass surface. She glanced at the front door, half expecting an irate Etterian to storm in.
Her shoulders slumped when the door remained shut. Now to choose the needles. Something big was preferable. There was no way she was going to knit with tiny needles. The scarf would take her forever.
When she selected size six, the machine beeped. She ordered the needles again. Beep.
“Illan?” She faced him. “I think I broke the replicator.” She stabbed the glass to show him. Beep. Beep. Yup. Trust her to break it.
“Impossible, Macy.” He pushed off the comfy and settled beside her. “What are those?” He tapped the order button, but it beeped for him too. She would have lost her shit had it magically granted him the needles. “They look like weapons.”
She snorted. “If you want to poke someone’s eye out, sure.”
Quin crowded her from the other side, then nudged her out of the way. She and Illan crowded the replicator, punching, and beeping. Macy huffed, folded her arms across her chest, and tapped her foot. What? Did they think she was an imbecile? Yeah, she did have idiot moments, but she knew how to work a replicator, for pity’s sake.
She squeezed between them and flicked their hands aside to order a beach bag for the wool. Nothing too fancy. Bam, there it appeared. So it was the needles the replicator didn’t like?
The door chimed. Oyaz occupied the doorway when Quin granted him entry. His gaze settled on Macy. She stiffened, only now considering that maybe ordering needles might not be a good thing. Glancing down at her plump self, she wondered how they thought she could hurt anyone with a pair of knitting needles.
“My apologies for the intrusion. I have received notification of a replicator violation.” Oyaz strode toward her where she leaned against the replicator, as guilty as can be.
Gathering her courage, she gestured to the beach bag. “If ordering knitting needles is a violation.”
His eyelids fluttered, and he paused, glancing at the rainbow-colored balls of wool. His mouth fell open. “You...create items with that?”
She frowned. “Why the surprise?”
Oyaz took a moment to respond. “Since the introduction of the replicator and rehydrator, there is not a need to craft things anymore.”
She gasped at the room in disbelief. “Not even cooking a roast chicken or an apple pie?”
“Why would they need to with a rehydrator?” Illan shrugged.
“Because it smells incredible.” Quin drew in a deep breath, her eyes closing as a dreamy smile formed.
“Damn straight.” Macy huffed.
“Very well.” Oyaz tapped on the replicator, and the needles appeared on the glass surface.
She snatched them as if they might disintegrate, but when he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. “Do...?” She glanced at Quin and Illan in yet another silent conversation, their arms gesturing, their faces switching between expressions. “Is there somewhere quiet I can go?” She stuffed the wool and needles into the beach bag and clutched it to her chest. “Where I can be alone?”
Oyaz frowned at Quin and Illan then studied Macy. “This way, milady.”
“Just Macy, please, Supreme Commander Oyaz.” She trampled after him, out the quarters and along the passage.
“As you wish.” He smiled. “Earthians are an informal species.”
She shrugged. “For the most part.”
“Then I insist you call me Oyaz.” He didn’t glance at her once while he led her down a long passage.
Etterians passed them, peering at her with open curiosity. It was to be expected, but still, she dipped her gaze, preferring to stare at the back of Oyaz’s chunky boots. A door opened, which she stepped through, only raising her chin when Oyaz stopped.
The room was narrow and long with built-in benches lining one wall. Above them were windows to ceiling height, displaying the passing stars. She squealed and stumbled toward them, resting a knee on a bench to splay her fingers across the glass.
“This is the viewing deck. We often forget we travel through cosmic beauty. Here, if you miss your home, you can task the display vids to show scenes close to your heart: an ocean, a meadow, a mountain.”
She faced him without removing her hand, relishing the chill of the glass. “These aren’t windows?”
“No, those would be a structural weakness.”
She peered at the stars. “So you have cameras on the outside of the ship recording what we see now?”
“Yes.” He tapped a panel beside the door. “When you are ready to leave, touch this and speak. Pilot Msar will send someone to escort you to your quarters.”
She dipped her chin. Right, the man had a job to do. “Thank you, Oyaz.”
He gave her a curt nod and left, the door sliding shut behind him.
Silence settled on her as she planted herself on a bench, curling into its curved backrest. Hours passed as she reacquainted herself with what her gran had taught her, unraveling the various monstrosities until she had the hang of it.
As she lost her thoughts in the monotonous task, she pondered her choices. Knitting could only entertain her for so long. Sure, there were a ton of other hobbies like pottery or mosaic tiling, but to what purpose? Maybe she could beautify their quarters? She frowned. The replicator couldn’t manufacture something large like a rug, nor did she think she could lift the white chairs—they seemed fused to the floor.
Mm, she’d give it more thought. If Etterians didn’t make things, then what or how did beds and chairs come into existence? Something she could ask Illan.
When her stomach grumbled, she stashed the palm-length scarf, needles, and wool into the beach bag, slung it over her shoulder, and approached the panel. Pressing her hand to it, she leaned forward until her mouth was an inch from it.
“Pilot...?” Shit, what was his name? She couldn’t guess when that might insult him.
“Yes, milady?”
Relief slumped her shoulders. “Um, could someone please take me to my...quarters?”
A man opened the door not five minutes later, and without a word, ushered her along their metallic passages that were the same as the last one she went down. How was she supposed to navigate this maze of dullness? There were no markers or signs to say, “this way, milady.”
She harumphed. Maybe she should talk to Oyaz about that? What could the poor man do though? Change the design of the battleship? She giggled. Pink walls, please?
Mm, pink sounded delicious, like strawberry icing. She winced as a sharp pang twisted her stomach. A cupcake with rainbow sprinkles and a caramel center would be wonderful. Could the rehydrator make one of those? And did she want to know how it created magic?
She snorted. Already her brain was fuzzing over at the thought of asking.
Her usher abandoned her at the door with a bright, “greetings, milady.” With a long sigh, she entered and found the room empty. Dumping her beach bag on the comfy, she approached the rehydrator and ordered an array of cupcakes along with an iced coffee. Alone, no one could judge her for her poor food choices, and to hell with it, she needed pink and lots of it.
~*~
The shared quarters
A few days later
Macy awoke to find herself alone again. Her initial excitement had waned, at having escaped from a Yithian slave ship, made two friends, and embarked on a new beginning. Cyndi and Quin preferred to spend their time with Iddan, Xan, or Illan. They hadn’t abandoned Macy on purpose, and she supported their relationships, she just wished she had something to keep her mind from circling the drain.
This new beginning promised to be similar to her dull life on Earth. Endless boredom in a pointless existence. She wanted to sob, to wail at the universe, but crying didn’t solve anything. Her gran had proved that. With a sigh, she trudged out of bed, not bothering to shower or pin up her hair, and programmed the rehydrator for a coffee. Who would see me dressed like this anyway? Her leggings and baggy shirt were comfortable and covered her. She snorted. Even if she walked around naked, it wouldn’t matter.
Flopping into a comfy, she activated the display vid and read through the menu items which were what she’d expect to find on a military vessel. The current location of the ship, communication options, cultural studies of alien species... Curious as to what the Etterians had on humans, she selected the Earthian icon. A shiver trailed from her scalp to her ears then down her spine. She giggled, tempted to jump up and dance. Beaming, she selected a section on illegal entertainment. Vids, music, concerts, ancient but also new, as if the Etterians had trawled all online databases—something the Media Police had never managed to do. Focusing on the music, she chose the Four Seasons by Vivaldi. The music swelled and dipped as it swirled through the quarters. She increased the volume until the instrumental notes consumed her and vibrated through her body. The volume was sheer luxury. On a battleship, the chances of the MP finding her were slim to none.
Coffee forgotten, she jumped up, closed her eyes, and twirled with her arms held out wide as if she stood in a green meadow amid rolling hills. Spring flowed into Summer and she swayed, immersed in the notes with shivers racking her body at the beauty of the music. The high quality and volume didn’t compare with the sound system at the club. She was in heaven.
Summer flowed into Autumn into Winter, and for the first time in a long time, she was content. As Winter concluded, she drank her cold coffee while she browsed the other options before selecting Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. She stood there, just holding an empty mug, swaying with her eyes shut. A shadow crossed her eyelids. She turned and squeaked. Oyaz had raised his face to the ceiling, his mouth open and his eyes wide. She lowered the volume with an apology forming on her lips.
“What is that?” he rasped.
“Beethoven. It’s classical music. Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked but didn’t need a response or his opinion.
“Yes,” he said, a little breathless. A smile curled his lips. She loved it when an Etterian showed warmth. “I apologize for the intrusion. Security notified me of a disturbance in your quarters.”
“And you rushed over to defend me?” she teased.
“Yes.” He gestured to the display vid. “What else can you show me?”
She laughed. “How much time do you have?” She chose Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers and increased the volume. His face was unusually expressive, revealing his enjoyment.
“Earthians are so passionate.” He leaned in to whisper before stepping back with his eyes closed again. His mouth hung open in delight. As it concluded, she changed genres and chose a classic hard rock song about the weather. Louder this time, she watched his face for his reaction. She didn’t have to wait long. It stunned him then when the singing started. His eyes went wide, but he tapped his foot, matching the rhythm. She swung her head back and forward, her hair flying with the movement as she let the beat sweep over her.
His chest shuddered with his ragged breathing. “That was amazing. What was it?”
“Hard rock. Not all our music might appeal to you. You’ll have to sift through it and find your preferences.”
The concept of a treasure hunt must have delighted him because he blessed her with a bright smile, showing his even white teeth. He punched his holographic buttons on his O.D.I., then met her gaze.
“I’ve notified my males that I am with you for this day. If you do not mind, of course.”
She rubbed her palms together, more than up to the task. “Challenge accepted, Oyaz.” Chuckling, she flicked through the options. “You will either hate this or love it. There is no in-between. It’s called Opera.” She selected Nessun Dorma, from the opera Turandot and only because a man performed it.
His eyes stuttered closed, and he raised his hand to rest on his chest. She could have sworn his dark blue eyes paled.
“One more of this genre?”
When he smiled, she chose O Mio Babbino Caro from the opera Gianni Schicchi. His reaction was the same, with a sweet and dreamy smile curling his lips.
“And now pop.” She selected one with an addictive beat, and of course, had to dance, since the tune called for it. Her senses tingled, warning her that he watched her, but she didn’t care. She adored this oldie and the freedom the music made her feel.
“What are you doing?” he asked into her ear.
She grinned and grabbed his hips, swinging them side-to-side to match the beat.
“Dancing,” she said.
He laughed and swayed his hips but his chest and shoulders didn’t move. She left him to it since he looked like he was having fun.
“Now something electronic.” A remix would be perfect. As the beat and thrum vibrated up her feet, she pulsed and jerked her body as if her life depended on it, the beat allowing her to lose herself in a hypnotic trance.
Once it ended, she flopped into the comfy, panting for air. “Had enough yet?”
“That was incredible, Macy. I liked the...” He tapped his fist into his palm to mimic the rhythm.
“Beat?”
He fell into a comfy next to her, a smile still cracking his cheeks.
“You should choose a genre and set it to random play. There are many artists in each category and some artists cross over.” She peeked at him. He’d said the day. Would he...? She straightened. “Wanna watch a vid with me?”
“I have seen your instructional vids on your mating rituals.”
Did he mean porn vids? Heat burned her cheeks. She glanced away, not sure how to address that. “Um, no, these are stories in a visual format.”
“An entertainment vid?” His eyebrow arched in interest.
Excitement coursed through her, notching a permanent smile onto her face. She hoped he’d spend more time with her. That he’d choose to. “We can watch an action if you would prefer?”
“What kind do you like?”
“Romance-Comedy but don’t worry about me. We could also watch something sci-fi. You might enjoy that more. Laugh at what we imagined space travel to be like?”
“You choose.”
She browsed the available vids, skimming over the porn, and chose a sci-fi vid, a true classic from the year 2016. Before she pressed the start holographic button, she jumped up and requested from the rehydrator two bowls of buttered popcorn as well as two large sodas. She handed him his then flopped into her comfy, dimmed the lights, and started the vid.
“What is this?” He gestured to the bowl and beverage.
“Standard vid fare. Try it.” She flashed him an encouraging smile then faced the screen. “Remember, it’s fictional so don’t take it too seriously.”
He picked up a few kernels to pop into his mouth. He grumbled his appreciation. His wrist buzzed a few times during the vid, but he punched a few holographic buttons and continued to watch the vid until the end.
“So, what did you think?” she asked as she put her empty bowl aside and spun in her comfy to smile at him.
“I loved this.” He gestured to the empty containers. “And the vid was good. I believed it would be a waste of time. The space vessels were too pretty and impractical, but some of the technology was believable. I understood why the captain reacted the way he did and agree with his judgments. He was honorable toward the end.” Oyaz flashed a brief smile. “There was even music in the vid.”
“We call it soundtracks. You should find that under entertainment, as well.”
“Thank you, Macy, for this day. It was...enlightening.”
“My pleasure.” She grinned. “Stand still.” He obeyed, and she wrapped her arms around his waist to hug him. She needed one more than he did. “You put your arms around me and squeeze gently.”
He did as instructed. “What is this? I have seen you and the females do it often.” He rested his chin on the crown of her head.
She sighed at the comforting gesture. For his first time, he was an incredible hugger.
“It’s a hug and can be non-sexual like now.” She pulled away, asking him to release her. He did so without hesitation. “Thank you for your company, Oyaz. I dreaded spending more time alone.” She bit her bottom lip, furious with herself for having told him something of a personal nature.
“If you wish a repeat, you have only to notify me,” he said.
At his kindness, she gave him a small smile. Not that she would take him up on his offer unless he was her friend.
“Are we friends, Oyaz?” Her question horrified him. He stiffened then twitched as if preparing to bolt. She turned away, preparing her heart for disappointment. This wonderful man, friends with her?
“Etterians form friends in battle. I do not wish to endanger you, ensa.”
She shook her head, now understanding his reaction. “Friends on Earth are people who care for one another as a family would and like to spend time together.”
He grunted. “My first female friend.”
“Thank you, Oyaz. I needed company.” She squeezed his hand and stepped back. “I wanted to ask if someone’s willing to teach me how to fight?”
“What?” His scowl was ferocious. “You imply we cannot protect you?”
“Of course not.” She twisted her hands, heat staining her cheeks at having to explain herself. What if he said no? What if he denied her this? She had to keep busy somehow. “I need to fill my time, or I’ll go insane. Even if someone just teaches me to remain hidden, or how to run away, it will be something other than these walls.”
He studied her for a minute. She shuffled under his intense scrutiny then clasped her fingers behind her back to hide their trembling.
“It will be so. We will start with fitness.” At his choice, she wanted to groan but bit her tongue. He was teaching her, and she was grateful. At least one hour of her day had a purpose. “I will collect you early every morning. I do not wish for other males to bear witness.”
“Ashamed of me?” she teased, happy to do so now that she’d gotten what she’d asked for, maybe more than she’d bargained for. Time would tell.
“Never. I do so to protect you, minus susa.” He frowned then shook his head. Why she didn’t know.
“Protect me? Are there bad Etterians who wish to hurt me?” The fear that tore through her snatched her breath and flashed images across her mind. She remembered the Yithian’s face who’d abducted her and Fishbreath’s reaction when she’d poked him with her finger.
“No one will harm you. My males are curious regarding human females. They will stare at you. I am aware that it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Yes, it does,” she said with a deep sigh. This was what she looked like and without an immense bank account, this was how she’d remain—alone and unloved. She didn’t want these men cataloging her every flaw. But on the other hand, she did want what Quin had—a man who’d love all of her.
“Ask Medic Rior, to implant an O.D.I. It will be easier if we do not awaken the other females.”
“Thank you for doing this for me, Oyaz,” Macy said, wringing her hands. She liked change, didn’t she?
“A pleasure to serve, Lady Macera.”
As soon as he’d left, she hurried through a shower to have more time to find the right exercise outfit. In the end, leggings, a baggy T-shirt, and sneakers were easy. It was the blasted sports bra that was the most difficult. By her fourth attempt, she was confident that nothing would escape, jumping up and down to test it. Once satisfied, she dressed in normal jeans, a red blouse, and matching ballet flats before heading to medical.
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