Fire and Soul

Court is bright colors, swirling shapes and voices overlapping and fighting for dominance. Cold masks frame lips—slashes of sneers, biting smiles and cruel laughter—all rebounding off the marble and clear glass of the receiving room. And everywhere, the sweet, cool rasp of silk on silk on skin.

His Eminent Lord Jheghda of Clan Bredan tilts his head and flicks his fingers. One of his aides glides forward and leans down to whisper in His Eminence's ear. Jheghda's lips quirk at whatever the aide says and the Alliance official seated opposite our entourage pales. His Eminence is not known for his tolerant amusement.

"You've heard of the pride of my family's sky forces." The official nods before Jheghda finishes speaking. Jheghda's fleet of space fighters, commonly referred to as adjuncts, are renowned throughout the Alliance. Jheghda gestures widely—Mikscn and I end up included in the sweep more by chance than any care on Jheghda's part. Not that anyone could miss the black metal collars around our throats. "Do you know the story of how they were acquired?" Jheghda sounds supremely bored, which means he's putting this show on just to punish us. The bruise ringing my eye throbs and I fight the itch to move.

"No, Prince," the official says.

"There were rumors of a family in my forests, retired pilots with three sons," Jheghda says, and I can catch the edge of a grin from where I'm standing. "They didn't declare their presence, so I had my men investigate."

Investigate—yeah. I can still smell the burning wood and the coppery stench of blood.

"The two elder sons were taken as pilots. The third, I sold to be trained as an anam."  Out of the corner of my eye I see Mikscn stiffen. "It really is too bad pilots can't be paired with an anam sibling. They're all terribly powerful."

"I've heard stories." The official fidgets in his seat, but I don't let the movement draw my eye.

"They're permitted to see their sibling every three years, provided their behavior has been good."

Distress rolls off Mikscn in waves and I close my eyes. There's no use pretending now.

"They would have been able to see their brother during this trip if Temsha hadn't overloaded their newest anam." Jheghda turns his head towards me. "Right, Temsha?"

"Yes, Eminence," I croak. Another three years. And Cherian is probably here somewhere, or at least on the planet. So close, dammit!

Jheghda flicks his fingers at the official, who recoils. "But we're all works in progress. Temsha really does try so hard." His tone is honey sweet and cold and I let it wash over me, my eyes squeezed shut.

*~*~*

"I'm not angry about what happened with our anam."

I glare at the damaged electrical panel in my hand and wish I could disappear inside the adjunct. I lean over and look down. Mikscn stands at our mech's feet, his hand held up to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun off the white alloy.

"You should be," I reply as I pick up a screwdriver. The adjunct's right shoulder is in pieces around me, the plating pulled away to expose the inner workings where the pirates had managed to fuck our shit up.

"You weren't mad when I fucked up last time." Mikscn's voice is a little closer and a quick glance confirms he's climbing up the adjunct's leg. I sigh. I knew I shouldn't've left the adjunct on one knee.

"You didn't get our anam put in a coma last time," I say with a vicious jab into the electrical panel. "We don't get to see Cherian and our anam is probably going to be euthanized." Jheghda's not exactly patient when his property doesn't work the way it should.

I had positioned the adjunct so its arm rests on its bent knee. Mikscn settles on the back of the wrist and stares up at me. "It's not your fault," he says. "It's not either of our's fault. Cherian understands that. Jheghda does this on purpose to show off to the other Houses."

I grit my teeth and shove the electrical panel into place. "Have you heard anything about our new anam?"

Mikscn's silent for a few seconds before he replies. "Not a word, other than that he or she is arriving tonight."

I nod and start replacing the armor panels. The adjunct just has to be able to get us home—we'll have an escort on the journey back to our home planet, no fighting required.

It makes me sick some days, looking up into the severe parody of its face, knowing that another one of these days whatever kid they saddle us with is going to be carried out of the cockpit.

Gods, Misa. I tried so hard to keep from drawing more power than she could give, but they came at our right flank and I had to pull power, I had to. She should never have been approved for space combat.

Mikscn clears his throat. "Here, I'll take over. Go get something to eat."

I make a face at that, but nod and start scaling down. "Damage isn't that bad," I say when I'm on the ground. "I got most of it fixed. Mostly we need to replace the plating, but that'll have to wait till we're home."

Mikscn nods. "I'll run a diagnostic, see if there's anything our anam's going to need to look at."

The Brudeah capitol planet, Eisen, caters generously to the Houses that are based off-world. House Bredan is old, expansive and wealthy—our home here is open and beautiful, all trees and sweet-smelling flowers, courtyards and fountains.

I stride through the busy corridors, ignoring servants and nobles alike. They ignore me in turn—Mikscn and I are answerable only to Jheghda. I nod to a few pilots, and many stop to offer their condolences for burning out yet another anam. The souls of our adjuncts may be dispensable to the people that own us, but anams are precious to pilots. We literally cannot survive without them.

In the mess hall, I finally relax. This place is for pilots and anams only, and no matter if I blame myself or Mikscn or Jheghda for the people we've killed, there is no judgment here.

I get my food and make my way to one of the long tables in the middle of the room. The others part to let me sit down and I tuck into my food, only now realizing how hungry I am. Aiya, one of Mikscn and my mentors, strokes her fingers through her hair as she chats next to me and I let the quiet murmur of conversation vibrate through my skin.

Keito, Aiya's fellow pilot and Mikscn and my other mentor, leans over the table to me. "A Vrah'di family bought Misa," he says, and I can't help the smile that breaks out over my face.

"Yeah?" I ask, and he nods. It's not a guarantee, but if Misa wakes up, she'll be free—the Vrah'di are part of the Hegemony, where all forms of slavery are illegal, and several of their Houses have gotten into the habit of buying pilots or anams who are disabled. Most anams eventually recover from the physical and psychic trauma of being overloaded, if they're given enough time. It's just they're rarely given that long to recover, and they're generally considered useless afterwards. This is the best possible thing that could come of this situation.

"Thank you for telling me," I say, and he gives me a brief smile before his attention shifts to something behind me.

"You're new," he says, and as one the table goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the man behind us.

"Just got off the ship," the man says warily. There's a lunch tray in his hands and a backpack over his shoulder. He's tall, lean, and breathtakingly beautiful.

"Did you," Aiya drawls. Keito and their anam, Micca, stiffen. Aiya smirks. "You must be Jye."

The man, Jye, frowns. "Yeah."

Aiya nudges my shoulder. "I believe this belongs to you."

It's not clear which one of us she's talking to at first, but then it hits me like a fist to the gut.

This is the next anam I'm going to get killed.

It isn't until I'm in the suite that I share with Mikscn—and will share with Jye—that I realize that maybe bolting from the mess like an idiot wasn't the best way to greet our new anam. It isn't until I'm being sick into the toilet that I realize I don't care.

I jump when cool hands smooth my hair away from my forehead, but Aiya doesn't acknowledge that she startled me. "It's okay, love," she whispers, and I realize I'm crying. "It's okay, it's not your fault," she murmurs as she wipes at my face with a wet towel. "Misa'll be okay, you only hurt her a little."

"I'll get him killed," I choke out and she tsks and pulls me down to cradle my head in her lap.

"You forget that me and my boys are free," she says as she pets my hair. Her pants under my cheek are quickly growing damp, but she doesn't seem to care. "Didn't I say I'd get you two a present?"

I snort despite myself. I do forget, somehow, that Aiya and Keito and Micca don't belong to anyone but each other. "You said that two years ago," I croak and she chuckles.

"It took a long time to find someone like him."

I still. "He is? Jye's our present?"

She strokes my cheek. "He's the most powerful anam I could find, equal to or stronger than your brother. I didn't know he was so pretty, though." She worms her free hand into her pocket. "Speaking of your brother…"

She holds the wrinkled, crumpled note in front of my face and I make myself open it calmly.

To my idiotic brothers,

Don't you dare blame yourselves. It was Jheghda's fault as per usual, you're not allowed to be sad. And I'm doing fine, I promise. Just ask Aiya, I'm sure her and Baina gossip enough. I'd say our mentors shouldn't be allowed to talk to each other, but then we wouldn't be able to, so I guess that's the price we pay.

I smile despite myself and scan the rest of the letter before tucking it safely away to share with Mikscn later.

"How'd you convince Jheghda to buy us a stronger anam?" I ask.

"I didn't," she says, petting her hand down my cheek. "I convinced Jye's House that a good diplomatic relationship with Bredan is something they want, and Jye volunteered to be a goodwill ambassador."

I just breathe for a few seconds. "Jye is free?" I manage, and she hums a positive. "Totally free?"

"Yup."

I sit up and stare her in the eye. "We could—he could—we could convince him to buy Cherian and set him free, pay him back somehow."

Something flits across her face too fast to read before her expression smoothes out and she smiles. "How about we get you boys introduced before we worry about all that."

I nod, but I'm already thinking, planning ahead. Finally, a chance to free Cherian! I have to tell Mikscn. Aiya sighs as she follows me out of the room, but I ignore the sound, feeling lighter than I can remember. Finally, a chance to make things right.

The next few hours are spent trying to track Jye down. He's been everywhere—medical, the quartermaster's, our suite—and by the time I give up and return to the adjunct, I'm ready for a nap. I climb up to where Mikscn's inspecting the panels in the adjunct's face and pass him Cherian's note.

He smiles as he reads it aloud and I imagine that Cherian's talking to us. I can remember his voice, a little, and it's a nice fantasy.

Mikscn passes the note back to me. "He sounds good."

"Yeah." I tuck it back into my boot and stretch languidly. "I met our new anam. Kind of." I wince.

Mikscn takes it in stride, though. "Yeah? Do tell."

"He's pretty," I say before I can stop myself, and Mikscn laughs. "Aiya said he's powerful. Like, Cherian-powerful."

Mikscn stares at the panel in his hands. "Good. That's … good."

"You two are hard to find."

I barely register drawing my gun, but Jye doesn't even flinch. He just stares up from where he's perched on the adjunct's wrist  and waits in silence as I holster my gun.

"I take it you're our new anam," Mikscn says as he replaces the panel.

"You're twins," Jye murmurs. "No wonder you're so powerful. Your synchronization rates must be through the roof."

"My name's Mikscn. This is Temsha," Mikscn says like Jye hadn't even spoken. "You two've already met?"

"Not as such, no." His eyes flick between Mikscn and I. "My name's Jye."

Mikscn nods and turns around to face us, dusting off his hands. "Nice to meet you, Jye. You'll have to forgive Temsha his lack of manners; he forgets to use his words sometimes."

"Hi," I mumble, feeling my face heat. Not like Mikscn isn't affected too, he's just better at hiding it.

Jye smiles and the expression isn't mean the way it is sometimes with other people. "Hi."

*~*~*

Breathe. In. Out.

"Initializing sequence."

Breathe. In. Out.

"Sequence initialized. Reading trifecta."

Breathe. In. Out.

"Trifecta confirmed."

Breathe. In. Out.

"Pilots confirmed. Pilot synchronization initialized."

Breathe. In. Out.

"Anam confirmed. Coordination with anam initialized."

Breathe. In. Out.

"Pilot synchronization holding at 98%."

"Coordination with anam holding at 90%."

"Pilot synchronization dropping to 90%."

"Coordination with anam dropping to 88%."

Breathe. Be calm.

"Pilot synchronization at 93%."

"Pilot synchronization at 95%.

"Pilot synchronization at 98%."

"Pilot synchronization at 100%."

"Coordination with anam at 95%."

"Coordination with anam at 100%."

"Adjunct operating at full capacity."

"Adjunct holding at full capacity."

"Sequence completed."

"Ending sequence."

I open my eyes as the adjunct's computer disengages. The HUD disappears behind my eyes as the cockpit opens. I let out a soft breath, trying to still Mikscn's excitement.

"Beautiful," Aiya says from where she's sitting on the adjunct's knee. She's got a tablet in her lap, her fingers dancing over the screen. "I've never seen such a flawless sequence, even for you two."

Mikscn crawls out of the cockpit first and I follow carefully, awareness singing through my veins. Aiya chatters away, and I push Mikscn's attention to her, desperately reining in our curiosity. But Mikscn won't be distracted and we both watch as Jye crawls out of his cockpit, located beneath ours, where the adjunct's armor is thickest.

His eyes show just a strip of blue around his blown pupils, and arousal hits us low in the gut. We let out a breath as he stares at us and watch intently as he licks his lips.

"Oh. Huh." Aiya's voice cuts through the air and we turn to look at her. She's tapping her index finger over her lips. "You two never get worked up like that."

She's right, and it cuts through us like a hot knife through butter. Mikscn thinks an apology, but it comes through my lips and we sigh.

Aiya snorts. "I know you guys pride yourselves on your freakish ability to come back down in a couple of minutes with nothing but a hug and smile, but I'd like to remind you that that's abnormal."

I frown as Mikscn nods and the discordant note pulls between us, stretching under our skin. I feel Mikscn's wince pull at my muscles.

Jye runs his fingers down my spine and Mikscn laughs when I nearly jump through my skin. Mikscn's amusement pulls against the aggression pounding through my veins, the urge to shove Jye against the adjunct, but only for a second until my brother gets yanked along beside me.

"You have a room," Aiya shouts. "Go away so I can run diagnostics."

We scowl and Jye laughs and our irritation is lost as we turn to him. He tumbles off the adjunct's arm, a controlled fall and we follow, the instinct to chase jumbling up with the need to claim, slipping through each other's skin.

Mikscn tries to slow us down, but Jye tilts his head and grins like he knows and we lunge forward. He leads us through the estate, a chase that pounds through marble halls with our heartbeat.

He hesitates and we catch him, press him to the locked door and he fumbles with the keypad as we give in to the urge to touch. We snarl a little in frustration—two bodies, not one, too many hands—and fall forward as the door slides open.

Jye laughs as we struggle to right ourselves and the sound sinks into our thoughts, cools some of the desperation. I breathe in deep and fall back as Mikscn presses forward, his hands working at Jye's belt. Jye's hands pet over Mikscn's shoulders and I watch, purposefully stifling everything that tastes like Mikscn inside me.

Mikscn shoves Jye onto the bed and glances back at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I cross my arms and lean back against the door, my teeth gritted. Mikscn stares at me a heartbeat longer, asking permission, and I look at Jye waiting patiently on his back, his arms stretched above his head. Mikscn's lips quirk in a grin and he turns around and peels his shirt off before setting a knee on the bed, everything in him leaning forward, focused on Jye.

I clench my hands against the feel of Jye's skin under our fingers, and Mikscn stifles a laugh. He deliberately trails his fingers over Jye's ribs, and Jye shifts under the touch, making a soft, impatient sound. I lean forward despite myself and Mikscn dips down to taste Jye's throat. Jye tilts his head back accommodatingly and I bite my lip. There's no reason to push Jye more than he's comfortable with.

Mikscn straightens with a pang of frustration and turns to glare at me. Jye lunges up and rolls them both so he's on top, settled over Mikscn's hips. He twists to look at me, his hair all mussed and his pupils blown wide, and it takes everything I have to slip back out the door.

I slam down on the link between Mikscn and I, strangle it until the only thing left over from synchronizing is a restless itch between my shoulder blades. I draw a slow, shaky breath and force out the urge to taste Jye's skin, see if it tastes the same on my tongue as it did on Mikscn's.

The gym. Working out will help me calm down. That's what I need to be focusing on. I run a trembling hand through my hair and set off in the direction of the gym.

The compound is quiet this time of day, everyone either in class or at lunch. When I come into the gym, there are a few people sparring and Njande in a corner, practicing a slow zharma.

I take up a spot a good distance away and follow his movements. Njande tilts his head in my direction but doesn't otherwise acknowledge my presence. The physical exertion helps slow my mind, lets me focus on something besides the mess of emotions and all the ways they tangle up with Mikscn.

When I finally come back into my head, there are a few more people around Njande and I, mostly older pilots with a few anams thrown in. Someone suggests a match and we break into a circle around a pilot pair.

I sit cross-legged on the floor, calling out pointers as the pilots spar. Desin and Yenja haven't been in the same trifecta long, and it shows in their sparring, how it's not quite a dance. There's a little too much clashing, but they're still refining their technique.

"Here." I accept the bottle of water from Njande with a nod. He sits next to me, a knife and polishing rag in his hand. "They've improved," he murmurs.

"Yeah." Njande doesn't talk much; the general consensus is that he just can't be bothered to. The Zhunai are a strange race, made to be cheap labor and repurposed as assassins, unfailingly loyal and obedient. But a slave is a slave is a slave, and even though Jheghda married his assassin, his right-hand, Njande had still been bought and paid for fourteen years ago. He's the only one of Jheghda's men we'll accept in our midst.

"Your anam good?"

I watch Njande from the corner of my eyes, but his attention is divided between his knife and Desin and Yenja's match. "Yeah." I don't think he's prying for Jheghda, and I've never heard of him betraying confidences, but it would be stupid to trust someone who shares Jheghda's bed.

He just nods. "Good."

Desin and Yenja break apart with a laugh and a kiss. Neina and Tiamin get up next, trading lingering touches before brutal punches.

"Match?" Njande suggests.

"Sure." I haven't sparred with Njande in a couple of weeks. Mikscn and I had been too busy with Misa to pay attention to anyone else.

Neina and Tiamin have been partners for a long, long time, and watching them spar is always a pleasure. Njande lets out a low chuckle when Neina trips Tiamin and pins him, a feral grin on her face. Tiamin pulls Neina down for a kiss and Neina allows it, laughing. I wonder if sparring with Jye would be like that, a flowing push-pull scattered with kisses and glancing touches.

I shake my head as I move to stand opposite Njande in the circle. That's not something I can be wanting, not something Jye is likely to want. Like Cherian doesn't get to keep his pilots, Mikscn and I never get to keep our anams.

"Ready?" Njande asks. His eyes are half-closed. He looks like he could fall asleep where he's standing, and that puts me on my guard more than if he looked eager to kick my ass.

"Are you?" I challenge, and he flashes a grin before charging.

*~*~*

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I groan and bury my head in my arms, try to curl away from Mikscn's avenging presence. "Leave me alone," I grunt.

"I cannot believe you slept in the adjunct!" I sigh. "We fell asleep waiting for you to come back! Why did you leave?"

"Because I felt like it," I snarl.

"Bullshit."

"Maybe I didn't feel like fucking someone I just met," I bite out.

"Don't act like you're not obsessed with him," Mikscn snaps.

"Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Not until you tell me why you left!" Mikscn shifts closer, blocking out the sun. "All I got was some sort of guilt about Jye? He's ours!"

"No he's not," I snarl, bolting out of my interface cradle. "He will never be ours," I breathe, an inch from Mikscn's face. "He's only with us because we're the most powerful pilots here. As soon as Jheghda pisses off the wrong House, they'll recall him, and the next time we see him, it'll be in a dossier on our enemies."

"You've got some issues, babe."

I look past Mikscn on reflex and glare at Jye. "Fuck you."

Jye leans forward, his hands braced on the edges of the cockpit. "You didn't, actually."

Despite myself, I feel my face heat. "Why are you here?"

"Talk to each other," Mikscn says, his tone flat. He brushes past Jye and gives me a long look before slipping out of the cockpit.

I collapse into my interface cradle and pull up a HUD, sighing as it flickers behind my eyelids.

Jye drifts closer, his fingers brushing over panels and circuits. "You take excellent care of your adjunct."

"Aiya does most of the work," I say.

Jye perches near Mikscn's cradle. "It's not that you don't like me," he says slowly. "No, you like me a lot."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it because you're so inexperienced? I don't care either way."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," I say, my fingers biting into the interface relays under my hands.

"No, I think it's because you don't know how to be in control of a situation."

"No, I—" I snap my mouth shut, and he nods.

"You don't necessarily have to be in control, Temsha. Or out of control. You've spent your whole life obeying orders. If anyone's supposed to be in control of this trifecta, it's me."

I stare at him hard, line up what he's saying with all the anams who've come before him. All of them too young, not powerful enough, most of them female and therefore very unlikely to be the kind of anam Aiya thinks we should have in terms of calming down. And all of them were off-limits because they weren't ours, didn't belong to us the way Micca belongs to Aiya and Keito, because we never get to keep our anams.

But Jye's free. He belongs to himself—decides who he belongs to. Could maybe decide to not belong to himself anymore.

I bury my head in my hands. I don't know how to do this. It's one thing to obey orders—though disobeying Aiya isn't exactly conducive to living—but it's something else entirely to give up control to our anam. Whenever Aiya and Keito piss off Jheghda, Micca steps forward and takes command, takes over reporting, protecting his pilots because even free pilots can suffer, and punishing, disciplining his pilots when needed. Before, it's always been Mikscn and I trying to shield our anam, trying to extend their life just a little longer by keeping them beneath Jheghda's notice and behaving ourselves. I don't know how to do this.

"You don't have to," Jye murmurs, and rests his hand on the back of my neck. It's a move so reminiscent of Aiya or Keito that I can't help but relax, surrendering under someone that's supposed to be in charge for once. "I'll take care of it," Jye continues, kneeling in front of me so I have to look him in the eye. "Trust me."

I make myself breathe out slowly, and nod.

*~*~*

I blink up at the dimmed lights above the bed, and sigh. Beside me, Mikscn curls further into Jye's warmth. I pet a hand through my brother's hair and the bond between us resonates with contentment. I spare a couple of seconds to close it down gently, so Mikscn can sleep a little bit longer.

Once I've rolled out of bed and dressed, I carry my boots into the hall. Keito's waiting a few doors down, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his hair a disordered mess. He waits while I put on my boots, and I let his presence soothe away the disquiet sitting in my chest. We walk to the gym together; it's early even for the sky forces, early enough that when we get to the gym it's entirely empty.

I follow Keito to a corner and follow him in our morning zharma, letting my mind drift as my body flows from one stance to another, stretching out sleep-heavy muscles and waking up my appetite. "He's a good guy," Keito says when we reach the end of our morning ritual. "I knew his father, knew him when he was still a kid."

I look Keito over pensively. His trifecta's been with House Bredan for at least as long as Mikscn and I have, but none of them look much older than their early thirties, and that's pushing it. Jye's in his mid-twenties himself, compared to Mikscn and my twenty, and he would've been sent away for anam schooling at around five years old.

"How old are you?" I demand, the numbers just not adding up in my head. I hadn't thought about it before because Keito, Aiya, and Micca have always been there. They're the closest things we have to parents.

Keito shrugs, and I glare at him. "You have to be at least forty …." Only that isn't right, either, because House Bredan only employs those free trifectas that are over the age of thirty. I stop and turn to stare at him. "Keito, how old are you?"

He drops to sit on the ground. "We were hoping you wouldn't realize." I follow him to the ground and copy his stretch. "I'm fifty-two; close your mouth, gaping is unattractive."

I straighten and shake my head. "No fucking way."

"Yes way." He rolls his eyes and stretches down to touch his toes. "Not our fault you two don't pay attention to things."

"Sorry if we didn't realize our surrogate parents are fucking immortal!" I hiss when I see a trifecta wandering into the gym. "Keito, what the fuck? You guys don't look much older than us!" Thirty-two years, how is that even possible?

For the first time, I see Keito hesitate. His eyes dart to look at the trifecta before flicking back to me. "I'm sure you've heard of Project Áed?" he murmurs, and I recoil, dropping my eyes to the floor.

"Keito—"

"Temsha, just—"

"Hey, you." Jye appears at the entrance and strolls over to us, his expression open and bright. "We didn't hear you sneak out."

I let the pleased embarrassment that always accompanies a conversation with Jye overrule the cold terror that's the only possible reaction to Keito's words. He didn't—he wouldn't risk everything he has, everything I have, on those two words. I just misheard him, is all.

Something about spending time with Keito slips out of my mouth and Jye gives me a pleased smile, his hand darting out to brush my hair away from my face. "Mikscn wanted me to find you before breakfast, if you're up for it."

"I'm starving," I blurt, and I glance at Keito as Jye pulls me to my feet. His expression is calm, relaxed, and I decide I really did just imagine it when I see Keito's expression darken as his eyes dart to the entrance.

Micca's standing there, spinning a short staff in his hand, eyes locked on Keito despite the people filtering in between them. They look serious, determined, and it shakes something in me to the core, the thought that our mentors would be involved with something like that—

"Breathe," Jye murmurs into my ear, trailing his hands along my ribs as an excuse for the display of affection. He's pushy, aggressively in my personal space and it completely removes my mind from the panic looming.

"Stop," I mumble, making a half-hearted attempt to push him away.

He laughs and catches my lips in a hard kiss. All my thoughts evaporate as he licks his way into my mouth and it's only the others' catcalls that remind me that we're in the fucking gym and everyone can see us.

I really do shove him away then, but it does nothing to hide the fierce blush I can feel burning all the way to my ears, and he reels me back in, laughing. The others are relatively tame with their jeering and I drag Jye out of the room, keeping my head down to hide the smile that won't stop tugging at my lips. The gym opens before breakfast does, so the halls are quiet, and Jye tugs me back, pulling me in again and I let him even though part of me is wondering how many people are gonna see us now.

"You okay?" He sinks his hand into my hair and tugs a little, the motion exposing my throat.

Hot embarrassment settles low in my stomach, but I do nothing to break his grip. "Yeah," I breathe, and something shivery chases down my spine when he mouths at my jaw. I hold tight to his hips, bracing myself, waiting for—

"Seriously? I leave you alone for two minutes and this is what you get up to." There's nothing but amusement in Mikscn's voice despite the words, and Jye tucks me close as Mikscn draws near enough to kiss. "Today even, instead of yesterday like I told you to."

"You said for us to talk," I mutter, and the low-level irritation at Mikscn interrupting gets swept away under Jye's mouth. I feel the puff of Mikscn's scoff against my cheek before Jye pulls away to kiss him again. It doesn't seem to take any extra effort for him to juggle us both and I frown.

"Do they teach you to do this is in anam training?" I ask before my thoughts can catch up.

Jye grins at me. "They do. In fact, the class is called Threesomes 10—"

"Not a threesome," Mikscn says flatly. He rolls his eyes as he steps away and starts walking down the hall. I make myself follow him, and Jye drifts after us. "We're sharing you, there's a difference."

"Yeah, but the class is called—"

"Jye, stop lying," Aiya says, startling all three of us. Jye makes a mournful noise that Aiya entirely ignores. "I'd like to go over a few more simulations after you guys are done with your exercises for the day."

"Why are you riding us so hard?" Mikscn bites out as we walk into the dining hall. "We're going home in four days and we have an escort."

"I just want you guys to be able to work together properly," Aiya says in her 'Do as I say or suffer the consequences' voice.

"Yeah, but we're tired," Mikscn says mulishly as we get into line behind a few other trifectas. "And running so many simulations is going to be hard if Temsha doesn't get over himself enough to let Jye fuck him—"

"Mikscn!" I whap my asshole brother upside the head and he glares at me, and that's not fair cuz I know that he and Jye haven't had sex yet, either.

The pilots and anams ahead of us are giving us amused, pitying looks and I wish futilely for a hole to open up in the ground to swallow Mikscn. Normally, he's the calm, rational third, but when he's annoyed he turns into the bitchiest ass I've ever met.

"Sorry I wanted to get to know him before I let him—"

"You two are such children sometimes, I swear," Aiya says drolly.

One of the anams ahead of us is whispering something in Jye's ear, giving Mikscn and I bright, amused looks while Micca looks on with a smirk curving his lips. Jye looks way too invested in what she's saying, it's awful. When did my life turn into a circus act?

Aiya gets drawn into conversation with another pilot as the line shuffles forward and Mikscn turns to me with a sigh. "Seriously though, Temsha. It's not like you're doing a good job pretending you aren't completely into Jye."

"We talked," I protest. "I just wasn't … sure about some things."

Mikscn gives me a hard stare. "You feel better about everything?"

I'm sure you've heard of Project Áed.

"Yeah," I say.

Mikscn must be satisfied by whatever he finds in my face, because he nods. "Okay. We're going to make an amazing trifecta, Temsha, I know it."

*~*~*

Jheghda's personal rooms are quiet and dark, the still, humid air broken only by the bubble of the fountain and pool in the next room. Jheghda's sitting at a low table, an open report in his hands. Njande is lying with his head on Jheghda's knee, stretched out like a content cat.

Jheghda's face is set in a frown, completely different from the practiced amusement he usually presents to outsiders. This Jheghda looks more down-to-earth, calmer and quiet; less a snake in the grass and more a prowling tiger.

He makes us kneel for almost an hour in silence, Jye, Mikscn and I arranged in a loose triangle. Coming into the room, Mikscn and I had moved to stand in front of Jye, but he slipped between us and took point. It makes the back of my neck itch to have our anam in front of us and vulnerable, and I wonder if this is what Jye meant about trusting him.

"My reports say that this trifecta held a 100% compatibility rate in your test sequences," Jheghda says without looking up. "Is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Eminence," Jye says before Mikscn or I can reply.

That gets Jheghda's attention—he looks up sharply, his eyes flicking between us before his lips curve in a grin. He lets a hand drop down to pet through Njande's hair.

Njande's cat-slitted eyes drift open before he blinks and his pupils go round and huge. He yawns, the tips of his canines glistening in the light.

"What do you think?" Jheghda asks, and Njande hums.

"Good team," he murmurs. "House Corcins has been acting up. Worth it to keep them."

"Mm." Jheghda stares down at Njande, his expression pensive as he strokes his thumb along sharp cheekbones. "How are you liking my House, Jye?"

"Very much," Jye says, and he sounds strange without his usual dose of sarcasm. "I've been made to feel most welcome, Prince."

"Good, I'm pleased to mend the bridge between House Osess and my people."

"Of course, Your Eminence. His Eminent Lord Aeshan is pleased as well."

I tense. Jye may not technically belong to Jheghda, but Jheghda's never this calm and polite.

"And you're settling well with Mikscn and Temsha."

"Yes."

Jheghda lets us stew while he pets Njande. I'm half-expecting to be punished for something even though we haven't done anything and that's not Jheghda's usual way. For all that Jheghda's cruel and detached, he knows that people can only take so much before they give up.

"You are an effective trifecta," Jheghda murmurs. "I have every expectation that you will perform admirably. And if you do not, then I will find another pair of pilots for you to work with. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Prince."

"These two often stray out of bounds," Jheghda says next, and Mikscn and I both cringe. "I expect you to correct this problem."

"Of course, Prince."

"You are dismissed."

Jye stands first and we follow him out. I can feel Jheghda's eyes burning into my back, but I keep walking until we've left the suite and are back in cool, crisp air.

"Briefing," Mikscn says, and we make our way to the other side of the compound. As part of the House's first line of defense, all active trifectas have to sit through bi-weekly briefings about the political going-ons of the rest of the universe.

As part of the Alliance, the Brudeah are supposedly at peace with the peoples that make up the Hegemony, the Alliance's sister government. In reality, there are a lot of tension and hostilities held between the Brudeah and the Vrah'di. Besides ideological differences, most hold a strong suspicion that the Cabal, the pirate government that is a constant thorn in our side, works from within the Vrah'di military. The Vrah'di and Hegemony deny supporting the Cabal, and we can't prove anything, but it doesn't lessen hostilities at all. The sky force's main responsibility is deflecting Cabal attacks, as well as acting as a deterrent to inter-House conflicts.

The briefing is, as usual, incredibly boring, and isn't much incentive to ignore the way Jye's running his fingers through my hair as I try to calm down from the meeting with Jheghda. Today's briefing coordinator, Isshan, is a pilot, and his voice is strong and steady as he goes down the list projected onto the screen behind him.

"And House Meisen—" I look up and beside me, Mikscn stiffens. "—successfully rebuffed an attack by the pirate combat class vessel Dreamdare." I let out a sigh of relief that Isshan respectfully ignores.

"We've received intel that the Dreamdare may be part of the Cabal's ruling class of combat vessels. Other known ships in the ruling class are the Sirenstar, the Shadowsong, the Reverie, and the Morninglight." Isshan hesitates. "There's also been speculation that the ship Novasky is part of the ruling class."

"The Novasky's only been on our radar for a couple of years," Jye says, startling me.

Isshan frowns. "Correct, but the pattern of behavior resembles the actions of these other ships. It's entirely possible that the ship's captain was grandfathered into the ruling class."

"The Novasky and Dreamdare are together a lot, too," Neina says. She's leaning her chair on its back legs, her hand on one of her pilot's shoulders. "Just like the Shadowsong and the Morninglight."

"There are rumors that those captains are related, former Vrah'di nobility or something," someone says.

"So what, you think the Dreamdare captain invited his or her sibling to join the family business?" Jye asks. He scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"And what? The Novasky showed up, guns blazing, alongside the Dreamdare," Neina snaps. "That captain knows somebody. How else did they get their ship staffed? The Novasky's a twenty-man crew at least."

"We have no idea how the Cabal staffs their ships," Keito says.

"Well, they certainly don't recruit off the street."

"And you think the Dreamdare just halved her crew or what? The Dreamdare's even bigger than the Novasky!"

"I still think the ruling class acts like a council—"

"Bullshit!"

"—elite vessels with an elite crew—"

"And your idea's so—"

"—unanimous vote—"

"They're pirates!"

"That's enough." Isshan doesn't raise his voice, but everyone shuts up anyway. He rubs his temples and I realize suddenly that Isshan is old. The rest of his trifecta died before Mikscn and I were brought here, and he was never reassigned. But he doesn't look much older than Keito. I glance at Keito and Micca before Aiya catches me and I have to drop my eyes to my desk.

"All conjecture aside, you have standing orders to decommission any Cabal ship you come across, and destroy if capture isn't possible."

We all pretend we don't know that neither of those things has ever happened.

"What about talk that their ships have anams?" someone murmurs, and the sudden silence could crystallize water.

Isshan's eyes dart to the closed door. "Those are unfounded rumors," he says slowly. "But in a purely academic sense, it's not out of the question."

"And?" Neina prompts.

Isshan sighs. "As we believe the Cabal acts as a subset of the Hegemony, those anams would be free."

"Born free," someone whispers, and it's hardly more than a breath, but everyone is instantly restless, and the door constantly has eyes on it.

"It is possible that those anams are part of the resistance," Isshan murmurs, and then someone has to say it.

"Project Áe—"

"Briefing over!" Isshan snaps, and as one we recoil. "You are dismissed."

The screech of chairs and shuffle of paper fills the room as we gather our things. Silence falls as we filter into the hall, and everyone keeps their head down as we walk.

It's something most people whisper about, but it's not safe. It feels illicit to even think about the Project, about what it could mean.

Mikscn, Jye, and I follow Aiya and her trifecta to the training room. I stare at the back of Keito's head as we walk.

I'm sure you've heard of Project Áed.

"Smile," Jye says. I glare at him and he laughs. "We're doing hand-to-hand combat today." He looks me over and I get what he's implying.

"That's not appropriate," I say with a sigh.

Mikscn laughs. "Are you only just getting that he's incredibly inappropriate?"

He's only been here for a few days, I want to protest, but it dies halfway up my throat. Sure, it's been less than a week, but Jye already feels like he's been here forever, like he fits in among Mikscn and Aiya and Keito and Micca as they start to unfreeze and relax. And he talked to Jheghda for us, took over the conversation so we didn't have to worry about walking into the games and traps Jheghda sets.

We enter the gym and Aiya and Keito stride over to claim a corner, Jye and Mikscn on their heels. I can tell Mikscn's already forgotten about the scene in the briefing room and I squash down a feeling of disappointment. Maybe he's dismissed it because he's just not scared by it like I am, and he's always been good at brushing off Jheghda's bullying.

I have so little that's mine. I can't stand the idea of anything that could result in me losing the only things in this universe that I have left. The only parents I know, the one brother that's still in my grasp. The adjunct, our anam.

Mikscn looks up and frowns at me. You okay? He mouths, and I pull myself out of my stupor. I sigh and dredge up a genuine, if tired, smile.

"I'm fine," I murmur, and Mikscn's eyes stay on my face for a few seconds before he nods and relaxes. His shoulders slump for a second before he focuses on following Aiya's stretches.

I make a note to spend some time talking to Mikscn before we leave in a couple of days. We normally talk a lot, but things have been crazy since the battle when Misa got burned out, and we haven't gotten to spend time together.

Aiya's glaring at me, and I hurriedly fall in line and let the familiarity of stretching, and then sparring, soothe away thoughts of the Project.

*~*~*

I collapse into bed with a groan. Aiya's pissed about something, that's for damn sure. Every muscle in my body is aching, and I look longingly at the bathroom, but I don't think I actually have enough energy to stand up. Mikscn's shuffling around by the closet, and I can feel Jye somewhere in the room behind me.

"Whatever she's mad about, I don't think we actually deserved that," Mikscn grumbles. I manage to get my head turned so I can glare at him.

"You were the one arguing with her at breakfast," I say. I rub my cheek on my pillow, sighing. "But it was probably the briefing," I admit.

"I'm gonna make a wild guess that you guys don't like talking about the Project," Jye says, carefully, like he's choosing each word with care.

"If the nobles find out we even mentioned it, they could kill us," I admit. "They always say that it's just a fairy tale, a myth."

"What do you think?" The bed dips as Jye sits on the edge, and I manage an approximation of a shrug.

"It's not something I feel comfortable discussing," I say flatly.

"Jheghda couldn't punish you two without risking the other Houses taking advantage of the sudden hole in the sky force's defenses," Jye says. "Why are you so afraid?"

"Our brother," Mikscn says. I close my eyes, suddenly exhausted in more than just my body. "Cherian belongs to House Meisen. They're even more powerful than House Bredan, and Jheghda's sister is married to their Lord. If Jheghda thought Temsha and I were even contemplating misbehaving, he could have Cherian killed. Cherian's incredibly powerful, yeah, but Meisen's got a lot of incredibly powerful anams." Footsteps, and then Mikscn's tugging lightly on the collar around my throat. "You know how our collars work, right?"

"When not engaged in battle, the collars must remain within a certain proximity to a transmitter belonging to their House," Jye says, sounding like he's reciting from memory.

"Jheghda has a transmitter that's directly connected to Cherian's collar," Mikscn says. "Temsha and I could destroy Bredan's capitol in an hour if we wanted to. When we finally got out of our theoretical studies and started piloting our adjunct, Jheghda knew he needed some kind of insurance policy to make sure we stay in line at all times. He could blow Cherian's collar whenever he wants, wherever he wants."

"They haven't let us see him in six years," I say. I bury my face in my pillow. "He's a man, now."

The silence coming from Mikscn is tense, and I nod without looking up. I know what Mikscn wants to show Jye. "Aiya, Keito, and Micca are free," Mikscn says. "Aiya's been really good friends with Cherian's anam mentor, Baina, for a really long time. Baina's also free." There's silence but for soft rustling sounds and I know Mikscn's pulling Cherian's note out of his hiding place in his boot. "They've been letting us pass letters back and forth, since they don't get searched when they leave base."

"We have to destroy them eventually," I say. I pull my face out of my pillow long enough to see Jye carefully unfolding the letter. "They do periodic searches of our rooms. They think they're a surprise, but everyone always knows about them ahead of time. We'll have to destroy this one before the entourage starts back home. But we get to hear a little about his life. Meisen's Lord isn't a fucking psychopath like Jheghda, but he still gets switched around to different trifectas a lot."

"That's kind of them, to do this for you," Jye says softly.

"They're the only parents we have left," I say. "I … none of us remember our birth parent's names. People say Jheghda's forces killed two pilots—at least, that's how Jheghda likes to tell it—but we think they were a trifecta." I rub at my eyes, suddenly afraid to look at Jye. "We don't remember. We were five and Cherian was four when they took us."

"We remember fire and screaming," Mikscn says. He sits on the bed and drapes himself over my back, his hand in my hair and his face pressed between my shoulder blades.

"I remember singing," I say. "A woman singing. But … I think it was Aiya. Jheghda handed us over to them, and all of a sudden they were parents."

"They let us see Cherian a lot back then. I think it was so we would remember him and he would still be relevant as a hostage."

"They gave us the adjunct when we were ten. Aiya was pissed, she said we were too young, that synchronizing when we were still developing our sense of self would destroy us. Even the Alliance has laws about what child slaves can be made to do, and she threatened to report Jheghda. She managed to talk him into assigning Micca as our anam till we were fourteen."

Mikscn nods against my back. "That's when we first started showing signs of how powerful we would be. We both requested that Micca be removed from our trifecta because we didn't want to burn him out. Jheghda actually listened to the request because their trifecta's a fucking powerhouse in combat."

"That was also the last year they let us see Cherian."

I feel Jye move across the bed. His hip presses against mine and the increased weight on my back tells me he's probably leaning on Mikscn. It's a comfortable weight, though, and something in me loosens a little. Mikscn sighs and I squirm a little when I feel Jye's lips on the back of my neck.

"That's why your relationships with your anams never became sexual before," he says musingly. "Your first experience with an anam was really with a parent."

"That and almost all of them were women," Mikscn says. "I like men and women, but Temsha has no interest in them. When we synchronize, it … sort of pulls between us. We couldn't be attracted to a woman when we're coming down if we tried."

"Have you two ever … ?"

Mikscn snorts. "Yeah, once. It was really … boring, I guess. And confusing. The feedback loop made it really hard to tell what the fuck was going on, and it did absolutely nothing to help us come down."

"Made it worse," I mutter.

"That, too."

Jye chuckles and the push of air over the back of my neck sends a chill down my spine. Fingers press down on the interface relays in the nape of my neck and I shiver.

"Huh," Mikscn says. "I've never seen anyone do that before."

"That's because—" Jye presses his mouth to the relays and how the hell does that feel so good? "—it's a very private thing to do. You should never let someone outside of your trifecta or a doctor touch your relays."

"Fuck," I hiss out, shifting against the bed. Jye reaches out to grab my wrist and presses the tips of his fingers into two of the relays there. "Ah." I've never really paid attention to my relays—they're just part-metal, part-flesh places that all anams and pilots have that let us connect to our adjuncts. Pilots have relays on the nape of our neck, our shoulders and hips, our wrists, on either side of our ankles, and near the base of our spine. Anams have more relays, mostly located down the length of their spine, and I had no idea that they could feel like this.

I'm distantly aware of Mikscn moving away, but Jye chooses that moment to press his tongue into one of the relays in the nape of my neck and I jerk underneath him, halfway caught between wanting to press closer and wanting to get away from the intensity of the feeling. "Jye—"

"Here," Mikscn murmurs, and shifts so I can press my face into his thigh. He tugs on my hair, not so hard that it hurts, but holding tight enough that I have to follow the movement. Jye runs his hands down my sides and rucks up my shirt, baring my ribs and back to cool air. He nuzzles my spine, pressing wet kisses to the relays there and I buck against his hands and Mikscn's grip on my hair.

I hold tight to Mikscn's knee, trying to gain some balance, equilibrium, but Jye chooses that moment to grind his trapped cock against my ass and my thoughts dissolve. He shoves his knees between my legs and I open up with a groan, let him shift closer. He's pressing a constant stream of reassurances and praise into my skin, and I let that soothe away the uncertainty and embarrassment and I've never done this before that's pushing up into my throat.

"Are you good?" Jye asks, pressing kisses between my shoulder blades and scratching lightly at the hair low on my belly.

I nod, but Mikscn yanks my hair. I glare at him, but make myself remember how to speak. "Yeah, yes, I'm good," I grind out, even though I'm pretty sure I'm dying.

"Tell me if you need me to slow down," Jye says, and his voice has gone low and rough, which sends prickles of arousal through my skin.

"He'd rather you hurry it up," Mikscn says. I look up and Mikscn looks like I feel, pupils blown wide, flushed and hungry.

Jye chuckles and cups me through my pants. I buck against the pressure, trying to get more, but Jye just slides his hand away to grab my hip. "Wait," he chides, and I bite Mikscn's thigh. I only feel a faint echo and realize belatedly that he's holding our link closed.

Jye pushes my shirt up higher and runs his hands down my back, scratching lightly. He dips down to brush kisses along the scars marring my skin, his touches turning lingering, exploratory. Like he's learning my body.

I let out a shaky breath, suddenly uncomfortably warm, even as Jye's light touches bank the fire roaring through my veins. Mikscn shifts so he can cradle my leg against his leg a little easier and I eye his hip consideringly.

He snorts. "Don't even."

But Jye might like—

"This is fine," Jye murmurs, stretching up to nip at my earlobe. I arch to get more contact with his skin. "I'm selfish, I want all your attention on me." He works to get my shirt off and I move obligingly, eager for more contact.

But when I go to settle again, I'm suddenly dissatisfied with being unable to see Jye's face. I flip onto my back. Jye laughs and helps me resettle my legs, bent up and around his hips. I rest my head in the crook of Mikscn's hip and reach up to pull Jye close for a kiss.

He settles over me and it's perfect, his weight solid and comfortable, strangely familiar. Mikscn's fingers work through my hair as Jye and my kiss turns lazy, lingering. I drift, hazy and calm, walking my fingers up and down the relays set along Jye's spine. I wrap my hand around the nape of his neck, marveling at the lack of a collar. Jye lets out a soft sound and smiles against my lips.

He tangles his fingers with Mikscn's and tugs my hair, tilting my head back. I let out an involuntary noise, not sure what I'm trying to say, if anything.

"Good?" Jye asks as he fumbles one-handed with the fastening of my pants.

I try to say yes, but the word comes out garbled. Mikscn grabs my hand, giving me a grounding point and I squeeze Jye's shoulder, nodding rapidly.

He chuckles. "Use your words, babe."

"Fuck, yes," I hiss, trying to arch up into his hand, because he's right there.

He leans back down to catch my mouth in a hard, bruising kiss as he works his hand into my pants to wrap around my cock. He kisses away my curse and mouths along my jaw and I jerk up into his grasp. He works his hand along my cock slowly—too fucking slow—but when I ask him to hurry it up, he bites at my throat, right under my collarbone. It sends shivers through my whole body and I relax.

"Wait," he grinds out, still stroking my cock at the same lazy pace.

They pull my head back, baring my throat and I suck in a shallow, shaky breath, unable to keep my hips from rocking with Jye's movements, edging closer and closer to orgasm.

"Are you close?" Jye demands.

"Y-yeah." I nod frantically, afraid he's going to stop and make me wait again.

"Good. Look at me."

I force my eyes open and brace my hand on his shoulder, my breath hitching. His eyes are nearly all pupil, just a sliver of blue iris, and focused solely on me. I tense, pulling against their grip, and come helplessly, stuttering out Jye's name.

After, I lay limply under him and watch him free his own cock and stroke himself off quickly. He collapses next to me, and I can feel his pulse thundering against mine.

"Perfect, you're perfect," he says, and I manage a querulous sound, my thoughts still too fractured to piece together words. He smiles and Mikscn laughs. I give up and let myself drift off. 

*~*~*

I wake up all of a sudden, on the edges of a dream I can't quite remember. Beside me, Mikscn makes a throaty, protesting sound and reaches out and hits my cheek. I shove his face away and almost jump out of my skin when Jye snakes an arm around my waist and yanks me close.

"We're reporting at midday," Mikscn grinds out, his voice sleep-roughened and barely there. "G'to sleep." He inches closer and presses his cheek to my stomach.

"Morning," Jye says. In complete defiance of his greeting, he tucks his head into the curve of my neck.

Lying there, I can tell they're both asleep again seconds later. I sigh and card my fingers through Mikscn's hair, let myself enjoy the silence and quiet. Mikscn and Jye are like furnaces, and I'm comfortably warm against the usual chilliness of the compound.

The entourage is leaving today. Five trifectas as well as the nobility's leisure-class vessels and support crews. The Brudeah central council is providing us with an escort of an additional ten trifectas as well as their support crews. All told, it's a thirty vessel group, not something to be trifled with and, like Mikscn said, this should be a cakewalk. Fifteen adjuncts is nothing to sneeze at, especially not Bredan adjuncts.

We're reporting at midday, leaving a little later, and will hopefully be home by the time the sun rises. It's a twenty-hour exodus, one that we'll spend entirely in the adjunct.

Normally, coming down afterward is a long, difficult process that disables at least a third of the participating trifectas, and Mikscn and I are always among those who are mostly comatose for days after landing.

But with Jye here … maybe it won't be as bad as usual. Even the past couple of days, with Jye in the adjunct and in our bed, things've been easier. I feel better, and Mikscn's started to lose that edge that always seems to be hiding underneath his determined calm.

"Mm … you're still awake," Jye murmurs. He nuzzles against my throat and I don't bother hiding my answering smile.

"Just thinking," I say, carefully pushing away my connection to Mikscn, making sure his sleep is uninterrupted.

"Good thoughts?" He mouths at my throat and I'm caught between telling him to quit so Mikscn can sleep and letting him continue.

"Pretty good," I say, my breath hitching when he nips at my earlobe.

But he stops on his own and shifts a little so he can set his chin on my shoulder. "Tell me?"

I hesitate, but plow ahead anyway. "I was just thinking that I like you being here." I have to look away, frustrated with the heat in my face. "You're … good for us, for both of us."

I feel Mikscn surface to consciousness even as Jye hums consideringly. "I'm glad I'm here," he says. "And I'm honored that you chose me to trust and let in." He strokes his fingers against my throat, his meaning implicit, and I can't help the quivering smile pulling at my lips.

Mikscn shifts a little, giving Jye and I time to gather ourselves and separate and sit up. Jye gives me a little smile when he retreats to the bathroom, and Mikscn remains quiet until the door clicks shut.

He sits up and curls into himself. I rub my hands over my face, suddenly exhausted. "Sorry," I mutter. "I—I'm sorry. Mikscn, I'm sorry, I—"

"You're the one who said he isn't ours," Mikscn says, and the worst thing is that he just sounds tired. "Even if—even if we survive the battles with the Cabal ships, even if they let us retire, they'll take him away eventually."

I shake my head. "I have to believe that we'll be free one day. He can buy Cherian's freedom. If he leaves us, he won't have the restrictions against buying family members like Aiya does. And once Cherian's free—"

"He'll have no reason to honor any agreement that we make!"

I bury my face in my hands. "Mikscn—"

"And who's to say he'd even want to help us? He's here for political reasons—do you really think he's gonna risk pissing off Jheghda and bringing his House down on his ass for a couple of slave pilots?" There's a thump in the bathroom and we freeze for a few seconds before relaxing. "You know Cherian's price is exorbitant." Mikscn sighs and reaches out to pet my hair. "Temsha, the only thing we can do is just … enjoy it while it lasts. That's what I was trying to tell you before."

I stare at Mikscn, unable to reconcile his words with everything I've been hoping for, everything I've been telling myself for years. That's always been the plan, to try and find a way to free Cherian, and then he would find a way to buy our freedom. Aiya and her trifecta can't buy Cherian even if they left Bredan because the Houses recognize that there's a bias from mentors towards their mentees, but we've been hoping that if they kept putting away wages, and what little money Mikscn and I make, that we could buy him eventually. Aiya and Keito and Micca have friends removed enough from the situation to be allowed a go at Cherian's tag.

I didn't realize how badly I wanted Jye to become a part of that plan until now. The pit of my stomach drops out and I swallow hard.

"No, no, I'm sorry," Mikscn says, lunging forward to grab my face. "I didn't mean to—"

I shove his hands away and scramble to my feet. Mikscn's talking to me, but I don't really register any of it, don't know what I say in response as I yank my clothes on. I just know that I can't be here anymore, can't stand to see Jye come out of the shower with my fantasy completely ruined.

I bolt into the hallway and don't stop until I reach the adjunct, kneeling in a line next to the others. I climb up into the cockpit and pull up a HUD, mechanically running through the pre-flight tests I would normally do with Mikscn. Everything comes back clear, of course, so I run another diagnostic, and another, and another, until there's nothing left to do but menial tasks and coding.

The other trifectas are starting to trickle out. I can hear their conversation and the low whine of the other adjuncts as the pilots pull back-up power to run their diagnostics. We've been briefed to hell and back, and the other's voices are lighthearted and cheerful. I know most everyone's missing home, and there's a definite note of relief in the air.

"Hey." I blink and look up. Jye's leaning into the entrance of the cockpit, something I can't read on his face. "Did you and Mikscn have a fight?"

I chew on the inside of my cheek, discarding option after option until I decide to tell the truth, if only because lies never survive long in a healthy trifecta.

"Sort of," I say, feeling out the words. "We're … having a difference of opinion."

"Is this going to affect your synchronization?" His tone is nothing but curious, but I flinch anyway. "We're leaving in an hour."

"No," I snap, and dive into another diagnostic. Buried in the adjunct's programming, only part of me registers Jye's low sigh and departure, but I curse myself anyway.

I know that acting like this is only going to make Jye leave all the sooner, but I can't just be okay with what Mikscn said. I want to keep Jye for forever. I don't know how to be okay with knowing that's never going to happen.

Aiya comes by to confirm the adjunct's operating normally. She gives Mikscn a narrow-eyed look when he arrives a few minutes late, but he just straps into his cradle without a word.

"Look," she says, glancing over her shoulder quickly. "I want you two to remember that you're a team and we love you."

I frown. "Aiya—"

"We wouldn't have brought Jye to you if we thought he would hurt you," she says. She leans forward, and her smile is a tiny, shadowed thing. "Trust us. Trust him. We love you."

I start to stand even as I hear the hiss and release of Jye's cockpit closing. "Aiya—" But she steps back and slams her hand on the manual hatch release. The door descends behind her and I have to settle back into my cradle.

"Temsha, what …?"

"I don't know," I grit out, my pulse jackhammering in my chest. Aiya always sends us off, but this feels like she's saying goodbye.

I strap into my cradle and interface with the adjunct with shaking hands. The adjunct registers us and I let out a slow breath when the cradle shifts to make contact with the rest of my interface relays. No matter how many times we do this, it's always disorienting for a second when the low-grade connection between Mikscn and I is blown wide open.

"Initializing sequence. Sequence initiated. Reading trifecta."

I bite my cheek at the grief and regret riding low in my chest. Mikscn bites his lip in turn and the pain zings through my mouth.

"Trifecta confirmed. Pilots confirmed. Pilot synchronization initialized."

We take a low, heavy breath.

"Anam confirmed. Coordination with anam initialized."

Soothing coolness flows over us and we grin.

"Pilot synchronization holding at 100%. Coordination with anam holding at 100%."

We open our eyes and stand, a wave of apology-regret-forgiveness flowing through us.

"Ready?" Aiya and Keito ask, their adjunct gleaming pale blue in the afternoon sun.

As one, the line of adjuncts turns, flight sequences initialized. The leisure-class vessels are already in orbit waiting, and we merge in the clouds with the adjuncts that are escorting us. The lead vessel, Jheghda's Silverstar, sends us the flight path and the adjunct's computer reads it.

To preserve pilot efficiency, the flight computer requires little adjustment from us, and we lean back as the entourage jumps into zerospace.

Cakewalk, we think, and turn our attention away from the dizzying black of zerospace to Jye. His consciousness is sleeping, as it should be, and we curl around his mind, protecting him from the buffeting adjustments the computer makes to our path.

The rest of the entourage are nothing more than shadowy figures in the black, until the silence that envelopes us is abruptly filled with shouts and screams over the comms.

Our sudden drop out of zerospace pulls our stomach into our throat and we barely manage to adjust before something slams into our left flank.

"It's the Cabal!" Aiya and Keito shout, and we draw the sword that lies along our spine. Everything is chaos, adjuncts darting about, trying to protect the leisure vessels from the two pirate ships that have somehow managed to divide the entourage in half and are firing relentlessly.

It's all so quiet, except for the directions being yelled down the comms. Our heart shoots up into our throat when Aiya and Keito get hit, and we shoot forward to cover them, taking a hit that sears through us when a third ship shows up, flanking us.

"Jump!" Aiya and Keito yell. "Get into zerospace now!"

All around us, the leisure vessels disappear, followed closely by the adjuncts.

Our comm link clicks over to a private channel as we initialize the jump sequence. "Aiya? Keito?"

There's a breath of silence and then, "We're sorry, boys. Remember that we love you."

"What—"

And they reach out and rip the zerospace generator out of our spine before disappearing.

Red lights flash and sirens blare into our ears, even as we desperately try to regain our equilibrium. But we're spinning and tilting through space with no anchor before we see the curve of a planet and aim for it, compensating for the shift in gravity and pulling through more power from Jye, enough to shield us as we burn through the planet's atmosphere.

An alarm shines on our HUD as the landing sequence fails and we scan the planet's surface only to come up blank for any sign of habitation.

We aim for land, tuck into a ball and pray, watching the HUD as it counts down to impact.

5

Why would they do this?

4

Protect Jye

3

Mikscn—

2

Temsha—

1

Jye!

*~*~*

I open my eyes, blinking rapidly as my head aches and throbs. I try to turn my head and groan, nausea slamming through my gut. I swallow hard and close my eyes.

*~*~*

I drift back to consciousness and stay awake through sheer force of will. I feel Mikscn swimming in my mind and shut our link down hard before he can drag me under again. I shift around and realize I'm still in my cradle. A low red emergency beam fills the cockpit with dim light, and I scramble for the hatch release, panic stifling my breathing. It opens without a problem, though, and I make myself breath calmly and slowly.

"Mikscn." I cough and reach for my cradle release. "Mikscn!" I yelp when my relays disconnect with a shock and I slam onto my side. Mikscn lets out a low groan and I drag myself up to the edge of the cockpit so I can reach down for the release for Jye's cockpit. "Mikscn, wake up!"

Jye's hatch whines, but opens smoothly before it gets stuck on a fucking tree. I look up belatedly and realize we're in a forest. "Jye?" I call down as Mikscn starts making noise behind me. I can only see a couple inches inside Jye's cockpit and Mikscn lets out a string of curses. "Jye?" I yell again, and feel my heart jump in my chest when there's no response.

"Temsha," Mikscn grunts. "What the fuck happened?"

I ignore him in favor of easing myself out of the cockpit. I brace myself on the tree blocking Jye's cockpit and squeeze through the opening. Jye's still cocooned in his cradle, relays attached, and I realize the computer must've kept him from waking up during the crash.

I jam my wrist into the manual release and interface with the adjunct long enough to confirm my identity so it'll release Jye. He comes awake with a gasp and I shift forward so I can catch him when he releases his harness.

"Are you hurt?" I demand, even as I run my hands over his shoulder, his chest.

"I'm fine," he says. "Where's Mikscn?"

"Still in our cockpit," I say. I check to make sure he can stand on his own before I scramble up to the pilot's cockpit.

"I'm fine," Mikscn says when I climb up. He's sitting down, his head cradled in his hands. "Fuck. We've never desynchronized like that before."

I drag myself back up into my cradle and jack into the computer through my wrist since the adjunct's listing at too extreme an angle for me to connect normally. Most of the initial diagnostics come back clean, shockingly enough. When Aiya and Keito—when the zerospace generator was ripped off, it came away clean, instead of compromising the integrity of the armor.

"The computer kept Jye asleep," I say, moving on to the next item on my list of what-the-fuck-is-going-on. "It kept Jye asleep, but I've never known an adjunct to do that before." Pilots are much more likely to be incapacitated by a rough landing, so anams are usually woken up to render assistance. I search for the subroutine that did it, and who installed it. The HUD brings up the one name I was hoping it wouldn't.

"It was Aiya."

I let my arm drop as I turn to face Jye, the relay disconnecting with another little shock. "How do you know that?" I ask, my fingers twitching when he runs his fingers Mikscn's hair.

"Because I helped her do it."

I stare at him hard; even though he obviously has a headache, he's completely calm. He's comforting Mikscn, with his back exposed to the forest.

"You aren't surprised at all," I realize aloud, because even though Mikscn and I are trained in this kind of thing, we're both twitchy, shocky. I can feel the panic well up and then squish down before rising again. "You planned this."

"Mostly, it was Keito and Aiya," he says smoothly. "I only had a little input."

I feel my breath coming too fast, too shallow, as the implications run around my mind. Jye steps forward and I flinch. He just looks at me, though, and I still and let him pull me close, tuck my head under his chin. I can sort of see where he still has a hand buried in Mikscn's hair, and the connection between us stops jumping around so hard, starts to settle down.

I relax into him, clinging as hard as I can to the fact that Aiya, Keito and Micca raised us. They love us, I know they do. They didn't do this to hurt us. They didn't, and I have to believe that, or I'm going to start screaming and never stop.

"Sh," Jye whispers. His fingers stroke up and down my spine. "Sh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay."

I hold on tight and let his words filter into the place where Mikscn and I are us, and close my eyes.

It isn't until Mikscn and I have calmed down, sitting near the edge of the cockpit with my head in Jye's lap and Mikscn tucked under his arm, that Jye starts talking.

"The Project," he says, and I flinch despite myself. "You know what it means."

Project Áed, supposedly the concerted effort of the Brudeah to hide the total enslavement and exploitation of a sovereign race—us, the pilots and anams. The rumor–the myth—is that the Brudeah enslaved the race they shared their planet with, and took over their technology, that that race was technologically superior, but lacking in the militarized force to repel the Brudeah. Those that believe in the Project, those that are part of the pilot-anam resistance, are enemies of the Brudeah Empire.

"You're part of the resistance," I say dully. "You and Aiya and Keito and Micca."

"Yes," he says. "We're funded and helped by the Vrah'di. We think you can help us prove the Project exists and get it out to the Hegemony so the Brudeah can't use the Alliance to silence us anymore."

"No." I don't even twitch at Mikscn's statement. "They'd kill Cherian."

Jye takes a big breath and I tense. "He's free."

"No, he's not," I snap.

Jye's hand tightens on my shoulder. "Why do you think we're here, miles away from any kind of Brudeah presence, and your collars haven't been triggered? We bought and freed him when he was fourteen, and his one demand was that we find a way to deactivate your collars."

"You're lying," I hiss, straightening and leaning away from him.

"Why wouldn't he tell us?" Mikscn demands.

"Because it took us till now to find a way to break your collars," Jye says, sighing. "And we can't even remove them fully until we get to Control. Of course Jheghda wouldn't want you to find out, and Cherian wanted to protect you."

"You all lied?" I ask flatly. "Have been lying?" Our mentors knew this whole time?

He nods. "We've been trying to protect you. Cherian's been making us wait until we knew for certain we could deactivate your collars safely."

"What do you want with us?" Mikscn asks.

Jye shifts back so he can see us both more easily and clasps his hands in his lap. "You're descendants of the scientists that created a database on the Project during the initial attack, before they were overwhelmed. The building that houses the database is on the original Brudeah homeworld, and can only be entered by a pair of descendants, that much we managed to find out. When we bought Cherian, we didn't know that a pair was needed until we took him to the planet and it didn't work. The security measures engaged and we almost lost a few people trying to get away."

"If the Houses knew—"

"They don't," he says sharply. "Cherian's purchase was made to look legitimate, and we waited a year for him to 'die' in an accident. There's no way they'd suspect that he's alive."

"So Jheghda's been playing us this entire time," I say, rubbing my hands over my face.

"Yes."

"How are we supposed to believe you?" Mikscn asks. "Everything you've told us is a lie."

"That's not true," Jye says. He smiles crookedly and runs his fingers down Mikscn's cheek. "Just … trust me as you have been."

Mikscn glances at me, and I twitch my shoulder. I don't know anymore. Help the resistance? The possibility that Cherian's free is shadowed by the possibility that everyone I know and trust has been lying for six years.

I just … I have nothing left to give. So I lean back and let Mikscn decide to trust Jye and believe that he's telling the truth this time.

It doesn't take long to move the adjunct to a plains area. I watch dully from my spot on the adjunct's shoulder as the pirate ships descend from the sky, silver and sleek, bullet-like with thin black lines following their curves. Mikscn lets out a low, envious whistle.

"They're gorgeous," he murmurs. "Sister ships?"

"Mm." Jye reaches over and scrubs at my hair. My heart rises in my throat, something I can't identify choking me. "The Dreamdare and the Novasky. The Daystar's taken off to retrieve your brother."

"We'll see him soon?" Mikscn asks sharply.

Jye nods. "I'll be able to tell you more after we've got the adjunct aboard."

The docking bay hatch on one of the ships—the Dreamdare—opens and several people come striding down the expansive ramp. Jye scales down the front of the adjunct, and Mikscn follows closely. I stay where I'm perched, watching the strangers come closer.

Jye hugs the man in front, and they chat for a few seconds before Mikscn tilts his head back to look up at me, his hand shading his eyes. There's a warm pulse of reassurance and I sigh and start the climb down, shivering occasionally at the cold press of wind against my skin.

The man in front steps forward and holds out his hand. "You must be Temsha. I'm Bastien, captain of the Dreamdare." He's definitely Inali, with black hair and eyes, though his hair is short and a little shaggy, with a multicolored shimmer glistening in his irises. It's highly unusual to see an Inali off-planet and not on Maedbh's business, and one with short hair at that.  He gestures to the man beside him, a man with blue eyes and long blond hair bound in a braid. "This is Ruadh, my boatswain and husband."

"Nice to meet you," I murmur, glancing at the two men who haven't been introduced.

"Fehr, weapons master," a tanned, scarred man says. "This is Jedn, senior gunner." He jerks his head at the young man standing at his side. "We need to disable your weapons before we load your mech up."

I bristle and Jedn shifts forward. "Not completely," he says, flicking a glance at Fehr. "Just shut the weapons systems down. It's my understanding that you can do that without too much trouble?"

"Yeah," I say, rocking back on my heels.

"Great." Bastien glances at Ruadh before nodding. "Let's get started."

*~*~*

Hours later, we finally get to sit down and talk. Besides Bastien, Ruadh, and Fehr, five other men and women filter into the meeting room we're led into. Mikscn and I claim the seats furthest from the door, Jye trailing along behind us. I've never liked being inside a ship. Everything's shiny and silver and cold, nothing at all like the soothing dark of the cockpit, and I refuse to sit with my back to the door.

We were at war with these people yesterday.

Bastien tenders quick introductions; Elen, Ross, Bess, Jack, and Wes make up the rest of the command structure on the ship. I let Mikscn play nice as I look everyone over. There's a careful professionalism to the set of their shoulders, a decided lack of hostility. Bastien clears his throat and passes around a set of wafer-thin screens that come alive under our fingers.

"We need to get this done quickly," Bastien says. "There's a possibility that your collars, though deactivated, are still sending out a signal. We have to move fast, just in case Jheghda sends someone after you two."

Someone mutters something about making a decision, but the door opens and everyone falls silent as a man slides into the room, muttering apologies as he finds a seat.

"And this is Emery, our initial force interface analyst," Bastien says.

Mikscn and I turn to look at him. "What," I say.

"He's the ship's anam," Jye says, reaching out to touch my hand.

I shift away, though, and cut a glare at Bastien. "Why do you call him that?"

Bastien's eyebrows drift up. "That's the technical name for his position aboard the ship," he says slowly.

"We heard rumors you people had anams," I bite out. "He's your ship's soul—call him that, instead of hiding him behind a title."

"It's okay," Emery cuts in. "I don't—"

"Don't let them disrespect you," I say, leaning forward. I gesture to his throat and the scars that rest in the grooves of his collarbone. "You were a slave, don't let them belittle your sacrifice with a nice, safe title."

"It doesn't matter," he snaps.

"You were someone's soul!" I exclaim. "Your trifecta—"

"Anam," Emery snarls, bolting to his feet. It takes me a second to realize he's talking to Jye. "Your pilot is obviously suffering from an abrupt desync. Control him or I will!"

I flinch away, bump into Mikscn, and panic jumps up my throat, my skin's too tight, the room's too small and I'm fucking cornered—

I slam through the door and into the opposite wall, my throat tightening as I sprint down the hall, my shoes squeaking on the cold metal until I find the room we were assigned. My hands are shaking as I jab the code they gave us into the keypad. I turn the handle and shove at the door, rattling it in its frame until the lock releases and I fall into the room. I slam the door closed and fall, curl into myself on the floor, and sob.

I don't know how long it is until I realize that someone's stroking my hair and murmuring reassurances. I turn my face further into Jye's leg, suddenly exhausted, and he presses his fingers to my lips.

"You with me now?" he whispers, and I nod jerkily.

"Sorry," I croak, and he hums.

"That was quite the freakout, babe. You want to talk about it?"

I just lay there for a couple of minutes, trying desperately not to feel anything. But Jye's scent, a little spicy and something like warm amber, keeps slip-sliding through my thoughts, and curls in somewhere next to where the panic and hopelessness is sitting.

"They don't respect their anam," I say, instead of what I want to. Please stay with us.

"They do," he says. "Just not the way you're used to."

"But he's one of us," I say, frowning. "He's used to that kind of respect."

"But he doesn't demand it from them. None of us demand respect." He flicks my hair away from my eyes. "You choose to give it to us. We don't always understand why it's such a … thing for you."

"Because we need you," I choke out. "If we don't appreciate you and what you do for us, what are we supposed to do when you're gone?"

He stills and I wince. "Temsha, look at me."

But I sit up and scrub my hands over my face, suddenly ashamed. Sex is an integral part of our culture, or what culture we've manage to carve out for ourselves. It's not expected that trifectas be sexually active with each other, but Mikscn and I were definitely the exception to the rule.

So while Jye may not consider it a burden to be sexual with us, it is so fucking selfish and inappropriate to hope that our relationship won't change now that we know the real reason he's here. And because I can't keep my stupid thoughts to myself, he's got to know that I—we—don't want him to leave.

"I'm going to take a nap," I say, climbing up onto the frankly minuscule bunk. "Mikscn can bring me up to speed later."

"I gave you an order," Jye snaps, pushing up behind me, and I go cold, then hot.

"I don't want to talk anymore," I say flatly.

"Well, too bad," he says, and I twist so I can kick at his legs.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" I exclaim, and he lunges forward to grab and pin my wrists.

I want to twist, to get my legs under him and shove him off, kick him out of the room, but the part of me that's been counting down until he leaves makes me stop. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Jye seems to notice the exact second when I acquiesce because he relaxes and moves to straddle me, his punishing grip on my wrists loosening.

"I can't help you if you don't listen to me," he murmurs.

"I'm not some—some perfect savior, or some rebellious martyr," I say. "I wouldn't let Keito talk to me about the Project, before. I was scared."

"Okay," he says easily. He strokes his thumbs over my relays and I shiver even as the shocky tingle calms the panic rising in my throat. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can take you to Control and remove your collars there. There are others that could probably help." He smiles a little. "You and Mikscn just happened to be at the top of our priority list."

"Why."

"Partly because of the deal we made with Cherian." He tilts his head to the side. "Partly because I refused to leave you with Jheghda any longer than I absolutely had to."

My breath catches in my throat and I make myself swallow hard. "Why would you …."

He trails his fingers along my arms, brushing the soft inner skin of my elbows, along the sides of my throat, before cupping my face in his hands. "Is Mikscn listening?"

Instantly, I feel Mikscn blow our connection wide open, and I nod shakily, unable to vocalize with Mikscn so close beneath my skin.

"Cherian is one of my closest friends," Jye murmurs. "He talks about you two all the time." We nod slowly and he smiles a little. "I fell in love with you two a long time ago. Every time Cherian wrote you a letter, I had to convince him not to mention me because I wanted you two to meet me yourselves. When we were putting together a plan to get you out, I refused to let anyone else come to you." He strokes his thumb over my lips and we suck in a shaky breath. "It had to be me. I needed it to be me."

"What—"

He ducks down and pulls me into a kiss, lingering and almost annoying chaste. "I need you both to be mine," he whispers against my lips. "I need to be yours."

"Oh." I lick my lips and nod, Mikscn's excitement making it hard to stay still and passive. "Okay. Yeah." I nod again, flexing my fingers, trying to still the tremor running through my chest. "We want that, too. We—we want that a lot."

He chuckles and sits back, bracing himself with a hand over my heart. "I know. I didn't realize that I hadn't told you guys that I only play for keeps."

Mikscn whispers encouragement through my mind, all tremulous joy and steely determination, with a thread of amusement, before gently closing down our link.

"Mikscn—"

"I know." He sinks a hand into my hair. "You get a certain look in your eyes when you're in each other's skin."

He runs his free hand up to collar my throat, pressing down just a little, and my pulse jumps. "You need this more than he does."

I open my mouth automatically to deny needing anything, but stop when he just calmly raises his brows, sort of faintly challenging, and the words die in my throat. "I … don't know why," I say instead, and he laughs.

"Does it matter?" He shifts to cover my eyes, his other hand still ringing my throat. The implied control startles a groan from my lips and he shifts his weight again. I draw in a shaky breath before I just … settle, calm flowing through me. I'm almost lightheaded, kind of giddy, and I press my hands harder into the mattress. "You need this," Jye says. "That's all the reason I need to give it to you."

"Okay," I rasp.

He hums softly as he presses his hands to my chest. "Keep your eyes closed," he says, and I nod breathlessly. He pushes his hands under my shirt and I jump at the cold touch. He just pushes my shirt up, tugging it over my head. I shiver when the cold air hits my skin, but don't say anything.

He traces the long scar running along my ribs on my left side. "What's this from?"

"Uh, injury from a battle with one of the other Houses."

I start when he licks the star-shaped scar in my right shoulder. "And this?"

"We were doing security during a council session and one of the other Houses attempted a coup. We weren't using the adjuncts, and I got shot."

He shifts down, leaving cold air where he'd been settled. He nips at the wide mess of scars along my hip. "This?"

"An infiltrator from another House. I was sparring with the anam, and she tried to kill me. She almost succeeded."

He works lazily at my pant fastenings, brushing lightly at my trapped half-hard cock.

I squeeze my eyes shut and he laughs as he urges my hips up so he can work my pants down. I tangle my fingers together and stretch my arms up to keep myself from touching him, and he presses my wrists down.

"Do you want me to bind your hands together?" he asks, his voice dead serious, and it's only the lack of laughter that lets me nod. He pets my cheek. "You can open your eyes," he says, and I watch him climb off the bunk and dig through his bags.

I can't keep the skepticism off my face when he returns with a pair of padded cuffs. "Really?"

He grins. "If you'd paid attention in class, you'd know that this is pretty normal. As soon as I figured this would be something you'd want, I had Aiya get a hold of some stuff for me."

I gape at him, horrified. "You asked my mother for sex toys?"

He laughs and kisses me hard. "Why do you think she knew where to get them?" he murmurs against my lips.

I wrinkle my nose. "I try not to think about what they get up to."

"Here, let me help with that," he says, his voice husky as he stretches up to cuff my wrists, the velcro loud in the cold room. "Comfortable?"

I clear my throat and nod, closing my eyes so I can feel better. He presses down on the links binding my wrists together, and I try to press up, twisting and pulling, my breath coming fast and shallow.

His thighs close around my hips and I twist and buck, my eyes screwed shut as I try to throw him off. But Jye just holds on tighter and tangles his hand in my hair, tugging my head back to expose my throat.

I relax with a low groan and try to lift my hands just to feel him press me down.

"Good," he breathes. "Perfect."

I feel myself flush all the way down to my chest at the praise, and squirm. "Jye …."

"You okay?" He pets my cheek and I nod rapidly.

"I just …." I twist and squirm, chasing after—something, I don't know what.

"What?"

"I don't …." I huff and open my eyes.

He smiles. "Emery was right, you know. You and Mikscn desynced hard and fast. I'm pretty sure that's half your problem right now."

"So … what?" I bite out.

He shifts and rubs down on my cock. I gasp and arch, jerking up into his heat. "So I help you come down," he says, and I would think he's entirely unaffected but for the slight breathlessness in his voice and the hardness rubbing against mine. "You trust me." It isn't a question, so I don't bother replying. "Close your eyes."

He spends a long time just touching, running his fingers along scars and unmarred skin, pressing down and stroking, warming me and chasing away the crushing loneliness that echoes through the place where Mikscn resides when we're us.

I sink down and down, lower and deeper, answering distantly when he speaks, questions.

"Is this okay?"

"Do you like this?"

"You're so good."

"Does this feel okay?"

"You're perfect."

"I love you."

I laugh a little, alternately giddy and dazed, clinging and floaty, arching up into his mouth and pressing, pulling against his hands and weight. When he presses slick fingers against the place that hasn't seen this kind of attention since that time, I surface a little, groaning as my head lolls.

"Are you okay, is this good?"

I whine and press down, chasing the sensation, and he laughs breathlessly. I jump when Mikscn sends indignation and embarrassment screaming down the link before slamming it closed again.

"What?" Jye asks, pressing deeper.

I gasp and throw my head back. "I was—ah—projecting at Mikscn."

His laugh sounds startled out of him, coming from his belly. I sigh and let my body go loose, tensing and relaxing over and over as he pushes deeper and rubs.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," I grind out, trying to even out my breathing.

He urges me to roll onto my side, pressing my chest almost flat and urging my leg up. He breaches me slowly, his hand on my hip preventing me from shoving back to take him in faster. I try to muffle my low groan at the stretch and slight burn, but he tugs on my hair and pulls my head back so I can't hide. I realize abruptly why he wanted me like this—I can't get any leverage to control the pace. And with that, I finally relax, my muscles trembling as I let go and stop trying to control the situation.

It takes forever for him to fill me completely, but once he's fully seated, he immediately rolls his hips, and I bite down on my lip at the sensation.

"Good?" he grunts as he thrusts in hard, and the only answer I can muster is a broken whine. It hurts but feels good at the same time, like he's trying to overwhelm me with sensation, and all I can do is take it until he works a hand over my cock, his grip a little too loose and slick, but perfect as I tense and come. I tighten around him, under him, and he groans as he curls over me, his teeth digging into my shoulder.

We lay gasping together, sweat-slicked and panting. Mikscn sends encouragement and a sense of immediacy my way, and I open my mouth to tell Jye that Mikscn's headed back, but never quite get there.

*~*~*

I wake up to a light touch running up and down my side. I turn into Jye's hand, enjoying his warmth and the solidness of Mikscn curled against my front. They're murmuring to each other, too low for me to understand. I stretch and bury my hand in Mikscn's hair, scratching lightly.

"How do you feel?" Jye asks.

"Good," I rumble, grinning when Mikscn tugs at my hair. "How long was I out?"

"Couple hours," Mikscn says. "You didn't miss much."

I frown. "I need to apologize to Emery."

Mikscn shakes his head. "No need. He said he won't accept an apology anyway."

"But—"

"It's my fault," Jye says. He sits up and I roll so I can see him. "I asked you to trust me, but I didn't take care of you the way I should've. I knew you were stressed, but I thought it could wait. I should never have let things sit for so long."

"It's not a blame thing," Mikscn says. "We're … still figuring things out." He tries to hide a grin, but I know it's there anyway, and the way Jye's looking at us, I get the feeling he knows, too.

"After this is over," he says, leaning over and petting his hand over our faces, "I'm taking time for just the three of us, and I'm going to learn everything I possibly can about you two."

I smile, Mikscn laughs, and Jye descends on us with kisses, nimble fingers and soothing warmth.

*~*~*

The planet is a riot of green and blue, vast white clouds stretching out over wide landmasses. Dark forests cover large expanses of the continents, and a ring of islands splays off a long coast.

"It's beautiful," I say, and Mikscn murmurs his assent.

"Sir, the Dayster is hailing us," Jack says.

"Put them up," Bastien says. "And hail the Novasky."

A man appears on the screen, with black hair and green eyes. "Hey," he says. "Thought you'd like to know Cherian made it to us okay."

"Thank you, Dabhan," Bastien says. "Did he—"

"Go through with his insane plan to kidnap his commanding officer?" Dabhan laughs. "Yeah, mission accomplished. The Vrah'di military's right on our ass; apparently the guy's kind of important. We'll lead the descent."

"Roger that." Dabhan disappears and is replaced by—

"You're Talfryn Om'she," I say, gaping.

"Holy shit," Mikscn says.

"My name is Bryn," the captain snarls. "Talfryn's my bullshit formal name." The screen zooms out to show the entire bridge of the Novasky, and right next to Bryn is—

"Gresham Om'she," I say. "Brother of Sé Om'she, Royal Concubine to Liam—"

"Om'she, yeah," Bryn snaps.

"—King of the Dae'mchnach." I can't believe it.

"You're royalty," Mikscn says.

"Related to royalty!"

"Why are you pirates?" Mikscn demands.

"Because I thought it'd be fun and we weren't royalty at the time," Bryn snarls. "Can we get the fuck back on topic, dammit?"

"I prefer Graham," Gresham says, his tone gently chastising. "As Bryn says, those are the formal names given to us when my brother became Liam's concubine. Within the Cabal, we're just Bryn and Graham." His hand is resting on the back of Bryn's chair. The rumors about them must be true, then, that the Royal Brother is the only person who can calm his hotheaded husband.

"This is what you get," Bastien says, chuckling. The entire crew is snickering, actually, and I realize that—duh, of course—this is common knowledge.

"Give me back my ship!" Bryn roars. Graham has his head in his hands.

"It's been six years, too late!" Bastien crows.

"Sir!" Jack yells. "Two ships just appeared on our radar, and they have Brudeah tags."

"Shit." People start scrambling on both crews. "Land 'em!" Bryn yells. "The compound's underground, they'll have to come and get us."

"Aye, Captain!"

"Get geared up," Bastien says. "You're gonna have to hit the floor running."

It seems like it only takes us seconds to get kitted out and we wait at the docking hatch as the ship shakes and rocks with Fehr and his three gunners. We land with a thump and Fehr leads us out almost before she's settled. I barely have time to take in the vast, dilapidated hangar, rusted and full of holes, before we meet the crew from the Novasky—

"Cherian!"

Mikscn and I collide with our brother and Jye herds us behind the group towards a crumbling freight elevator. I'm torn between Cherian, who's talking a thousand miles an hour and won't let go of my arm, and the deathtrap we're being stuffed into.

The roar of a landing ship fills the air before the doors slide shut and we drop way too fucking fast.

"What about the ships?" Jye asks.

"Shields will be up 100%," Fehr says. "They can't risk firing on the ships without bringing the whole cave down on us."

I tune them out for a few seconds and grab Cherian's face. "You look just like us," I breathe. Black hair, green eyes, and the smile I see reflected on my brother's face every day.

"I told you guys not to worry," he says, his eyes bright. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you—"

"It's fine," I say, shaking my head. "We understand."

"You never told me you have brothers," one of the people I don't recognize says, and Cherian turns with a glare.

"It's personal information, Rowan," he says, and my eyebrows inch up at the sheer amount of bitterness there.

"Focus, people," Fehr says, and Cherian straightens. "When we get there, Temsha, you and Mikscn will lead. I'll take point after that with Jedn, and Tristen and Magnus will bring up the rear. I want the rest of you spread out and keep eyes on the prisoner." Rowan snorts.

"The compound will scan you and deactivate the security measures," Fehr continues, ignoring Rowan. "After that, we'll make our way to the database core. The Vrah'di military should be in the atmosphere right now."

"And if the Brudeah make it down before the Vrah'di?" Mikscn asks.

Fehr looks meaningfully down at the weapon in his hands. "We'll take care of it."

The elevator slows, then stops, and the doors open. It's a shock walking into pristine white halls from the decay above. Mikscn and I walk into the hallway cautiously. Sudden fear seizes me. What if they were wrong, and we're not the people they need and our entire race is doomed?

But there's a low whirring sound that seems to come from the walls, and then a rapid series of beeps and clicks. The rest of the group edges after us, and Mikscn and I approach the plain door at the end of the hall slowly.

"Good morning, Doctor En'sara." We all jump at the pleasant female voice. "You are cleared for an unspecified number of visitors. Please proceed into the sanctum."

"You two stay as guards," Fehr says to two of the men from the Novasky, and they nod curtly.

The door slides open when we get close and we walk into the next room with bated breath. It's a huge room, long and wide with a vaulted ceiling. It's shiny and white, all angles and sterility. There are tables everywhere, boards with writing scribbled on them, memos taped on every surface possible. It looks like the people who worked here have only left for a minute. The air isn't even stale.

"Bizarre, isn't it?" Instantly, the crew behind us has guns up and aimed at the man standing in front of us. He just smiles pleasantly.

"It's a hologram," I say.

He laughs. "Not just a hologram."

"An AI," Mikscn says, and he—it—he laughs again.

"Close. Although I'm not surprised that descendants of mine are very bright." He beckons us closer and we all shuffle forward. "I am the consciousness of Doctor Vance En'sara."

"You're real," I murmur, and he nods.

"We thought it would be easier for you—whomever you ended up being—if there was someone here to walk you through things." He sighs. "We didn't think it would take so long to get to this point. We didn't think the Brudeah would destroy us so completely."

"How long has it been?" Jye asks.

The man—Vance—looks down at his clasped hands for a second before lifting his chin. "Just over one thousand years."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut. Someone behind us curses. I knew it'd been a long time, knew it had to've been a long time, but a millennium?

"Our people are called the D'shnk'dta," Vance says. "We've shared our planet, Illisneya, with the Brudeah for as long as we can remember. But where they focused their efforts on warring with one another, we focused our efforts on utilizing the telepathic abilities most of our race are born with." He pauses. "My scans indicate that you two have an advanced degree of ability."

"Only with each other," Mikscn says.

Vance frowns. "Not with your third?"

We glance at Jye. "That's … not something any of us knows how to do," Jye says.

Vance looks disappointed. "Very well."

"What happened to us?" one of Bryn's gunners asks.

"The Brudeah," Vance says simply. "They unified under one banner and came for us. We had no way to repel them. We realized they were going to overwhelm us and retreated here. We gathered everything we could on their conquest, population statistics, pictures of their forces mobilizing, everything. We meant it to be a rallying point for the stragglers, but when the Brudeah joined the Alliance, we realized this could be our saving grace."

"Enslavement of a sovereign race is illegal," Fehr says, and Vance nods.

"Exactly."

"Who is 'we'?" I ask.

Vance looks shifty. "The remaining people who were our contacts with the outside world before they were either captured or killed, and myself and the other Director of the Project. He is wary of people."

I want to press, but don't. "So?"

"So the Project—Project Áed—truly came to be. It means fire, and we meant to burn away the Brudeah's hold on us."

Sharp laughter fills the air and I flinch despite myself.  Jheghda, his personal guard, and Njande come striding into the room, dragging the guards Fehr set.

"You will never be free of us," Jheghda says. Gone are his silk robes and glistening jewelry, replaced by practical clothes and a long knife, his long hair bound in a braid. Njande immediately separates from the group to walk along the outer edge of the room. Magnus keeps a gun on him, but Njande just grins as the other assassins shove our men at us.

"We're going to prove we're a sovereign race," I say. "You can't stop us."

Jheghda scoffs. "We will raze this building before the Vrah'di get here. And you're in our way." One of his men raises a gun, and beside me, Fehr and Jedn lift theirs. I tense, unsure of which way to turn, and the guns click, loud in the still air.

"The fuck—"

"All weapons are automatically disabled upon entering the sanctum," Vance says. The silence is deafening for a heartbeat before everyone throws their guns and charges. I yank my spare knife out of its sheath just in time to catch Njande's sword as it comes down above me.

I grunt with the effort of pushing him away and he laughs as he darts back in. The strike I block rattles up my arm and I grit my teeth, twisting to avoid the kick Njande aims at my knee. I've been sparring with Njande for years, but it was never like this.

I trip over a body when I back pedal to try and get some room between us and have to scramble out of Fehr's way when he lunges at another of Jheghda's men. I crash into a table and scramble up and over it when Njande's sword comes slashing down. The clash of metal against metal is lost under the sounds of battle and I roll back under the table and lunge at his knees, tackling him to the ground.

He tries to sit up as I fumble with my knife, but we both slip in the blood coating the floor. He brings his knee up at my chin and my head snaps back, blood immediately filling my mouth. His sword flashes in the light and I shove wildly at his leg and wrap my free hand around his throat.

"No!"

"Line up, 14C-6."

My brothers and I fall into line behind the Overseer. There are men in the room, seated and chatting between themselves. The Overseer walks past us and we keep our heads respectfully lowered, our hands clasped together in front of us.

"These are the males from the 14C line," the Overseer says. "14C-6-1 through 7 are our sixth crop mean to better suit needs similar to yours."

"There are eight men here," one of the men says, his voice soft.

"6-8 here is a natural mutation. Normally, we sterilize mutations falling outside a certain tolerance of the genetic code, but every so often comes a mutation the geneticists want to cultivate."

"What's the mutation?"

I glance up even though I know I shouldn't, at the man with the honey-sweet voice, and catch his eyes.

"Oh," the man says. "Come here." His tone brooks no argument and I'm moving forward before I can tell myself to stop. There's a glass of dark wine in his hand, and his long black hair is bound in a braid over his shoulder. His eyes are completely, unrelentingly black. I've never seen eyes like that.

I drop to my knees in front of the man, close enough to touch. "What's your name?"

"We don't have names," I murmur.

"How old are you?"

"Seven standard years."

"This is a particularly fast-maturing line," the Overseer murmurs. "We expect a rapid turnaround with little cost to emotional stability and learning rate."

"You're trained," the man says after a brief pause.

"Nine kinds of martial art." I let my eyes flick down his body. "As well as other arts."

The Overseer hisses and I flinch at the sound of his voice. "I apologize, Eminence, this one gets mouthy. If the geneticists decide to cultivate the mutation, that will most assuredly be bred out."

"It is a remarkable mutation. What are the advantages?"

"Far superior night vision, and an ability to see in greater detail as well as a three-point increase in memory recall. We suspect an increase in intelligence as well, but further testing is required."

"Are you intelligent?" the man asks.

"Very," I say.

"You're mouthy and disrespectful?"

"Frequently." I let my pupils change, know they'll shift from slits to round, and surrounded by blue instead of green.

He pets my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp and I surprise myself by wriggling closer, so close I could rest my chin on his knee if I wanted to.

The Overseer clears his throat. "Eminence, 6-8 is not for sale. He is merely a demonstration of potential future offerings. As I said, this is a rapidly maturing line."

"We'll come to an agreement," the man says without looking up

"Jheghda, his price would be exorbitant," one of the men seated nearby says.

"Yes, Eminence, the potential breeding stock alone—"

"I do believe I don't give a damn." I rest my cheek on his knee so I can stare up into his eyes. My heart's beating heavily in my ears and my face feels hot, but I can't look away. "You're mine," he says, softer, and I nod. "Njande." His voice has the faintest hint of a question, but I know exactly what he's saying.

"Yes," I say, and my voice is hoarse. "Yours."

I come back into my own body with a nauseating wrench. Njande is gaping up at me, his pupils round and shocked. "You—"

"Njande!"

Njande and I jerk around; Jheghda is fighting with Fehr, but his eyes are on Njande and I realize he's worried. It must look like I have the advantage.

Njande tries to shove me off to get to his feet, but I slam my elbow into his gut and take his seconds of breathlessness to slam his head into the ground. I know I have to keep Njande away from Jheghda and we wrestle messily, him trying to escape and me just trying to get him to stay.

"Temsha—" I shove a knee in Njande's solar plexus, cutting him off. Blood from a cut above my eyebrow streams into my eyes, and I hesitate for a split second at the desperate tone in his voice. "He doesn't need to die," he pleads, his hand scrabbling helplessly at my shoulder. My grip on his hair slackens and he strikes, driving a knife into my shoulder. I let go with a shout and he shoves me away, struggling to get to his feet in the blood and bodies on the tile.

I rip the knife out of my shoulder reflexively, and try to go after Njande, ignoring the pain in my shoulder and the blood. I stand in time to see Fehr get under Jheghda's guard and drive his long knife up into Jheghda's chest.

Njande screams, the sound raw and desperate. I fall to my knees, my vision graying around the edges.

Mikscn appears next to me, his hands rough and shaking as he ties a bandage around my shoulder. I look numbly down and realize I don't know what's wrong with Mikscn, don't know why he's shaking, if he's injured or worried or both. The silence in my mind rings through my ears and I watch Njande cradle Jheghda's body, his low keening wail replacing the sounds of fighting as the last of Jheghda's men are either killed or surrender.

I stand when Njande collapses on Jheghda's chest and shouts echo down the corridor from the elevator. I pick up my knife, Mikscn supporting me when I nearly fall over, and make my way cautiously through the men and bodies between me and Njande. I don't make a sound when I stop by his side, but he looks up at me, his face covered in blood and tears.

"You—" a low growl tears out of his throat, thick and choked. "You know."

I nod, because I do, because I get it now.

"Please," he chokes out.

The Vrah'di are filtering into the room, calling to Rowan and Cherian. I step behind Njande, find the space between two vertebrae, and drive my knife in. Njande's body falls over Jheghda's and my knife slips from my fingers.

*~*~*

I wake up alone again and stare up at the ceiling, half-remembered snatches of dreams and Njande and I love you echoing through my mind. I shake myself out of it and roll out of bed, rubbing my aching shoulder.

I dress quickly and make my way to the bridge. Jye and Mikscn have been gone for two days and aren't due back for another three from the Cabal's capitol planet, Control. But when I come onto the bridge, Bastien is frowning at something Ruadh is telling him, and I know I won't be able to get his attention.

"No! Leave me alone!" I turn at the sound of Cherian's voice and accidentally catch his eye. He makes a beeline for me, Rowan on his heels, and I cringe.

"Eri—"

"No, I'm not going!"

"We don't have a choice! You broke the law when you kidnapped me—"

"I had to!"

I inch away from them, but Cherian steps with me and Rowan follows like he's caught in Cherian's orbit.

"You should have trusted me!"

I blink, look at the way they're angled toward each other, aggressive and in each other's space. Oh.

"How was I supposed to know? You never—"

I beat a hasty retreat, am exhausted by the time I get to the mess, and decide to go back to sleep even though I just woke up. But I end up staring down at the tablet Bastien gave me, and the report Vance submitted about the situation.

"Overextension of abilities", and "traumatic experience", and "recovery time unknown" leap out at me. I turn the tablet off and toss it at the tiny desk bolted to the opposite wall. I stretch again, try to feel for Mikscn, searching the place where he normally rests in my mind, but he's gone like he never existed in the first place.

I bury my face in my hands, trying to ignore the ache. In this tiny room, on this ship with people I barely know, even with Cherian down the hall, I feel more alone than I ever have before in my life.

Vance and Aiya think being apart from Mikscn for a couple of days will help, that I strained myself and him being gone will let my mind rest, but I resent every second that he and Jye are gone. Connecting with Njande, even though it was only for a few seconds, feels like a betrayal.

Mikscn and Jye will come back. They have to. I know they will. But it's silent in my head and I miss Mikscn's comfortable steadiness like a phantom limb. I flop onto my back and fall asleep counting all the times Mikscn and I were synchronized in the adjunct.

Hey there, little one. Why are you crying?

Sh, go to sleep, it'll be okay.

I'm sorry, lambling. Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?

We'll always be here, sweet one, all three of us and Mik. You'll never be alone.

Trust us. Trust him. We love you.

I surface to consciousness slowly, cocooned in warmth and soft skin. I shift and try to push the fogginess away, confused and not liking it.

"Sh." Nails scratch lightly at my scalp, accompanying a gentle prod towards sleep. "We just got in." Jye's voice is a low rumble against my throat.

"You came back," I say thickly.

Mikscn squeezes my arm, fond amusement overtaking my confusion. "Of course we did. We said we would."

"You came back," I whisper again, my eyes squeezed shut so I can revel in Mikscn's emotions.

Mikscn's slow exhale ruffles my hair. "I had to."

I nod. "Okay."

Fin