"That is wonderful news!" Errol exclaims, genuinely excited.

"Yes, it is," I agree in a much more reserved manner.

Errol gives me a slightly odd look at my response. Perhaps I am not showing the same level of excitement at the news that the invaders' cart is now open, but I cannot pretend that everything is fine. It is the best I can do.

"Well, I shall go inform Rosalind and Visidion of this newest development," he announces after a brief, awkward pause. "Give my congratulations to Addison!"

I murmur my agreement, watching him hurry out to spread the news.

With no other reason to delay my return to the lab and Addison, I turn to walk back. Slowly. The truth is, despite my hurt feelings at the way Addison snapped at me, I am actually quite proud of her. I have always believed hard work and perseverance are key to accomplishing most things in life and Addison is a prime example of that. But I simply cannot display that emotion, not yet. Not when I keep replaying how dismissive she was towards me, how condescending. As if I do not know that she needs to focus, that what she is doing is important! Does she believe I am stupid?

I suppress another growl at the thought, indignant that she would even imply such a thing. Especially when all I was trying to do was help her, bring her food so she would not have to waste time and energy leaving the lab to do so herself! Even thinking about it raises my ire once more.

I stop before I enter the lab, taking a deep breath and deliberately erasing the emotion off of my face before I step inside. I do not want her to know how much she can erode my control by doing something like this, do not want to give her more power than she already has over me.

When I enter, I do not go to Addison first, ask her if she needs help or if she has made any additional progress on her projects as I usually do. No, I go directly to work myself without acknowledging her.

If she does not want interruptions, does not want my help, then fine. I will not give it to her. Even as I do this, a small part of me knows that my actions are somewhat petty, but I do not stray from the path. Perhaps later I will be more centered, more able to behave reasonably, but this is the best I can do for now.

I can feel Addison glance at me and then look away, uncomfortable with my mostly silent manner. I know she does not know how to respond to me while I am behaving this way. She has only ever interacted with the softest part of me. The part of me that only wants to care for her, only wants her to be comfortable at all times, wants to speak to her despite my hurt feelings, wants this tension between us to dissipate. But I stay strong.

She will have to issue an apology, a real and sincere one, not that automatic one she muttered out of reflex when she realized she had offended me. A verbal apology that I feel is appropriate and sufficient.

I refuse to mirror some of the relationships she had on the ship, refuse to allow us to start on that foot.

The time she always seems to stop speaking of when thoughts of her mother cause her to tense up.

She obviously did not have the type of relationship with her parent that she should have had, and I know that can leave scars, invisible ones that often only come out during times of stress.

But I deserve her effort, deserve her trying to be better than her past. I am more than simply a "lover" as I have heard human females call males they only have sexual relations with. I am her friend, and I demand better, demand what I know she can give.

Even as I think that, I cannot ignore her completely. As I continue to work, I keep a discreet eye on her. It is clear that she is having trouble focusing because of the chill currently between us. She keeps glancing at me and then looking away, a thoughtful frown on her face.

I can almost feel her processing her thoughts. She may not realize it yet, but I know part of the reason she has been so irritable is that Errol has deduced what is going on between us, and she does not like the exposure. She does not like that we would be linked so publicly.

And I think I know why. There is a reason why she dresses so conservatively, why she likes to minimize her beauty as much as she can while other females attempt to enhance their own.

She loves the lab, loves her work.

And she wants to be taken seriously. So she presents herself in what she considers a serious manner. Which makes no sense to me. What about physical beauty or femininity would make anyone think less of her? One would have to be a complete idiot to disregard her intelligence, her hard work and dedication simply because of her outward presentation.

However, I am quite certain I am on the correct track with my thoughts.

Unfortunately for me, I think this same incorrect idea she has about her outward physical appearance also extends to any relationships. Specifically, any relationship with a male, which in this case, is me. She fears that mating me would mean that she would no longer be taken seriously, that nobody would recognize her for her own merit.

Another ridiculous thought!

I do not know why she is so insecure that she would fear such a thing when she is obviously an integral part of the tech team here in the city. And I am put off by it. I do not like her thinking of me as a burden, a liability that she must keep hidden. Good enough to be with, but only under the cover of darkness where nobody can see. Where nobody can judge her.

I press my lips together in frustration, putting down my own tools to take a deep breath so I do not accidentally damage the mechanical components in front of me.

I glance over at Addison, catching her looking at me. She turns her head quickly away, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

My heart softens, just as it always does in her presence. Even while I am angry with her, frustrated at her behavior, I feel the urge be compassionate—to attempt to understand her reasoning, the past that created the person she is today.

It is difficult to know exactly what I should do. This...our relationship...is difficult.

Human ways are not Zmaj ways, even though the blending of our people has caused sure and lasting changes to this portion of Tajss, shifting the cultural and social dynamics in a unique way. But that blending does not mean we have an instant and perfect understanding of each other.

She glances at me once more, looking away again when she realizes I am still focused on her. I want to go to her. Want to comfort her and tell her everything will be fine. But I harden my resolve and look away.

No. I cannot do that. I need to establish this boundary now to ensure our relationship is stronger in the future. I cannot give in to my softer side, no matter how strong the temptation.

She owes me a proper apology. So I continue to work quietly, though I do not get much of significance done. It is difficult to focus with such emotional turmoil taking place inside.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief when Rosalind finally arrives with Visidion and Errol in her wake. Anything to distract from this tension.

Addison stands to greet them, but her eyes tend to want to stay on Rosalind.

"The cart is open?" Rosalind asks, stepping over to the piece of machinery without waiting for an answer. "Bravo, Addison. Bravo."

Addison beams, the admiration she holds for the other woman clear in her expression, in the way she angles her body to towards the other woman.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure yet how I did it, but..."

As she speaks, I stare. This does not make any kind of sense to me. If she holds the Lady General Rosalind in such high regard, how can she have misgivings toward our mating?

Rosalind and Visidion's mating is no secret. In fact, it is often assumed that where one may find Rosalind, one may also find Visidion. It has not affected her authority at all. In fact, Visidion has only enhanced how seriously everyone responds to Rosalind. With such a strong Zmaj Tribe Commander supporting her, how could anyone with a brain not view her as an even more formidable power? And if Rosalind can mate with one of us and maintain her status, why does Addison think she cannot? Why would she put this distance between us, display unwarranted aggression to achieve it? It is maddening.

"You simply waved the ore over the cart and it opened?" Errol asks, skeptical.

Addison nods.

"Yes. Though I don't know if that was all it is because there's been ore around the cart for a while now." She shrugs. "I'm going to have to do some more experimentation to pin things down."

"Hmm. Do think perhaps this is why the invaders want the vanadium?" Visidion asks, staring at the cart.

"You mean because it seems able to unlock compartments and locks on their ship?" Addison clarifies, nodding slowly. "That makes sense. Seems like even if the ore isn't integral to their tech, it would be damn inconvenient for us to be able to just wave the ore and unlock their stuff without even an 'Open Sesame' needed."

"'Open Sesame'?" Errol repeats with a frown.

"Just a generic term used to stand in for a password," Rosalind murmurs. "I think Addison is right—I certainly wouldn't want my enemies to have keys to any of our equipment. And taking the keys is immensely more efficient than attempting to change all of their tech, all of their ships and vehicles so they don't respond to the ore. If that's even possible for them to do."

We all murmur our agreement with that statement. I would certainly try to secure such keys if at all possible.

"We need to guard the mining settlement carefully," Rosalind continues, her gaze shifting to the box full of the vanadium. "Even if we don't figure out a way for the ore to work for our shields or our technology...it's still a valuable commodity." She looks over at Addison. "And I'm still not convinced that you guys won't figure out how to make it work for us too."

Addison flushes at the vote of confidence.

"I can't guarantee results, but I'm down to keep trying."

I look away, feeling an uncharacteristic resentment bubble to the surface. If only Addison were so invested in us.