The ocean seemed serene and peaceful through the porthole in the Falcon 8’s mess hall. A sun not dissimilar to Earth’s own was rising on Dethocoles’ horizon, turning the sky pink. Here and there, waves crested as they neared the shore, and Angela picked out a sailing ship in the distance.

She wished the rec room had a porthole and that they’d had a view of the stars all along. But at least the captain was no longer keeping the women in there. After announcing that he would take them home, he’d ordered Ensign Bystrom to another post and left the door open. Many areas of the ship were off limits, but he’d opened up all the common areas.

“I can’t believe we’re going home already,” Juanita said.

She stood between Angela and Tala as they gazed out the porthole toward the rising sun. People were already awake, eating breakfast at the tables behind them. Angela had been famished after her long night of sex and snuggling—but mostly sex—with Treyjon, so she’d eaten early.

“It alarms me that you say that with regret in your voice,” Tala said.

“You’d be regretful, too, if you’d just found a hot lover from another planet, and you weren’t sure if he was going to come home with you.” Juanita looked over at Angela and nodded.

Angela kept her mouth shut about the fact that Treyjon had said he would come back to Earth with her. She didn’t want to make Juanita jealous, since Orion presumably was having second thoughts about reality TV bounty hunting on Earth now that he’d been offered the Star Guardian gig.

Besides, what if Treyjon decided he didn’t want to stay on Earth once he actually saw it? She crossed her fingers that wouldn’t be the case. Flagstaff was nicer than a lot of places, and if he’d grown up on a wilderness planet, he might like the thousands of acres of national forest all around the town. She smiled, imagining taking him out to her parents’ lavender farm. Being “off the grid” certainly wouldn’t faze someone who’d grown up as a hunter-gatherer nomad.

“Really,” Tala said, dryly and completely unconvinced.

“I was just hoping to see a lot more of the galaxy before heading home,” Juanita said. “Aren’t you interested in the medical stuff? You’ve spent a lot of time studying their files.”

“Because I loathe being incompetent. I’ve been cramming in case a big exam came along. Fortunately, so far, those medical robots have handled a great deal, and I’ve mostly felt like a nurse, assisting them. Let’s hope nothing more alarming happens on the way back.” Tala’s lips pressed together, as if she expected the worst.

Angela didn’t consider herself a pessimist, but nothing Orion, Treyjon, or Sagitta had said had led her to believe that they would simply fly straight home and get dropped off without trouble.

“What makes you think it’ll be forever?” Angela asked, wanting to dwell on the positive, on hope, rather than on bad things that might come.

“What?” Juanita asked.

“What makes you think it will be forever when you choose home or you choose Orion?”

Juanita hesitated and glanced behind them. Many of the other women had made their way up to the mess hall, too, more for the view than the food, and they sat at the various tables, talking quietly.

“I guess I don’t know for sure,” Juanita said, “but Orion thought, based on stuff his brother had admitted, I guess, that their government might close our gate. Forever.”

“What? Why?” Angela asked, though as soon as the questions came out, she realized she knew. In less than two weeks, slavers had plucked humans up from their planet and a big corporation had tried to sell its location to evil aliens. The existence of Earth—Gaia—seemed to be a big deal to a lot of people in the galaxy for various reasons. If the gate remained open, it could continue to be a target. Would the defenses of the various countries around the world, missiles and nuclear warheads, do anything against the shields of invading spaceships?

“The rest of the galaxy isn’t ready to know about our awesomeness,” Juanita said, apparently preferring to keep the conversation light, though maybe she was thinking about the same things as Angela.

Tala snorted. “More like our planet isn’t ready to interact with the rest of the galaxy. It’s humbling, and maybe a little depressing, that people taken from our world more than two thousand years ago are now our technological superiors.”

“You’re just grumpy because they have medical tricorders and you don’t.”

“That handheld device was actually a combination CAT scanner and MRI machine. In one of our hospitals, those are room-sized machines. I can’t even get my head around how it could do a full body scan without—”

“Good evening, ladies,” spoke a voice from behind them. Treyjon.

Angela spun around, almost on her tiptoes, and smiled at him. Orion was with him. They both carried cardboard boxes and paper bags, a couple of the bags having grease stains.

“Am I interrupting?” Treyjon asked.

“Yes,” Tala said, as Angela and Juanita said, “No.”

“Would the interruption be welcome if we provided sweets?”

“Yes,” Angela and Juanita said.

Tala wrinkled a suspicious nose.

“Apparently,” Orion said, “while my brother was pacing around and making his life-or-death career-ruining decision, Treyjon was shopping for sweets in the Aztakia Quarter.”

“I didn’t know the captain was making big decisions at the time,” Treyjon said, “and I made the order online from my back in sickbay. I wasn’t sure what fate would befall me—and I’m still not sure about that, since I’ve been unconscious or, uhm, indisposed since I got back from that freighter—but I wanted to make sure my new assistant svenkar trainer didn’t have to go into space again without satisfactory snacks.”

“Assistant what?” Tala asked.

“They’re the scary monster dogs that slobber like St. Bernards on a hot day,” Juanita said. “And lack fur to make them cuddly. Also, the fangs are longer than your arm.”

“Got it.”

“They’re amazing.” Angela smiled and stepped forward to grip Treyjon’s arm. “As are Twinkies. And Ho Hos. And donuts. And Oreos.” She squinted at the boxes and bags. “Is there anything in there like an Oreo? Preferably double-stuffed? And dipped in white chocolate?”

Treyjon’s brow creased, and he looked at Orion.

“No,” Orion told him. “My translator doesn’t know what she’s talking about, either.”

“Despite their technological advancements,” Juanita whispered to Tala, “I suspect this is a culinarily savage society.”

“Maybe you should try what they brought before judging them.”

“An excellent idea,” Angela said. “Can we?”

“Of course.” Treyjon pushed the boxes and bags toward her. “I ordered a wide selection in the hope that you’d find some appealing ones.”

“That’s a good man, right there,” Juanita said.

Orion made a face.

She patted his arm. “You’re a good man too. Especially if you give me a few of those bags.”

“Gladly,” Orion said. “Sage will lecture me if he sees me carrying bakery goods around his ship. Don’t think pursuit by angry government officials will deter him from a good lecture.”

Angela opened the box and gasped in delight at the array of frosted goodies on display. “It’s just like going to Krispy Kreme and getting one of everything.”

She picked one at random—well, not entirely random, as that brown frosting looked a lot like chocolate—and took a big bite from the end. It had a denseness that made it more like a cake donut than a raised one, and she could pick out notes of honey. It wasn’t what she was used to, but it was definitely sweet, and her taste buds danced.

“Who else wants one?” Angela asked around her stuffed mouth.

“You’re not going to keep the whole box for yourself?” Tala asked.

“Well, I figure they won’t keep long enough for one person to eat them all.” Angela considered the cornucopia before her. “I could probably eat half of them.”

She grinned at Treyjon and slung her arm around him, the box of goodies soundly clutched in her other arm.

“I’m glad you like—” he started to say, but the captain’s voice came over the speakers.

“This is the captain. Prepare for departure.” Silence followed, and Angela thought that was the end of Sagitta’s announcement, but he added, “Some turbulence is expected. Non-essential personnel should buckle themselves in and stay out of the way.”

“Turbulence,” Orion muttered. “More like, he’s taking off without permission to do so, and he’s expecting pursuit before we even leave orbit.”

“It’s early,” Treyjon reasoned. “It should take the other available captains some time to muster their crews and get their ships into the air after us.”

“What if planetary defenses fire on us?”

Angela exchanged long looks with Tala and Juanita. Planetary defenses? Like missiles?

“I doubt the government will want to blow up a state-of-the-art ship that’s only a few years old,” Treyjon said. “Other ships will just chase us down and try to force us to land or, if we make it into space, to be boarded.”

“I hope Sage has something up his sleeve to delay pursuit then. If we can make it through the system to the gate, at least we’ve got a chance.”

“Maybe. It’s not like the government doesn’t know where we’re going.”

The men seemed to notice Angela, Tala, and Juanita staring at them, and they ended their grim speculation.

“Why don’t we just enjoy ourselves for now?” Treyjon said, squeezing Angela’s shoulder. “There should be plenty of time for more donuts.”

“How many more donuts?” Angela asked, concerned that they would experience that “turbulence” sooner rather than later.

“At least three, I should think.” Treyjon nodded and led her to a seat at the closest table. “Maybe four or five if you hurry,” he added with a wink.

“Five? I’m not sure I should stuff my face if we’re expecting turbulence on the way out of orbit.”

“Perhaps not.”

Angela selected another donut. “I’ll keep myself to three.”

“Seems reasonable.”

Thanks for checking out Treyjon and Angela’s story. The adventure continues in Book 3, Sagitta, when we find out if the ladies will make it home, if they’ll want to stay home when they get there, and if Tala has a beating heart (and sex drive) under her aloof exterior. Look for Sagitta in July.

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