Chapter Eleven
Two planet rotations later, Qulpa was ready to try the flight simulators again. He’d grown accustomed to his new mechanical fingers, had completed exercises on the private viewscreen, was semi-confident he wouldn’t look like an ass in front of the others.
His role depended on his performance this planet rotation. The status of being Second’s main pilot would help him protect his gerel, prove his worth to her.
Nayan followed him through the laboratory. Her mechanical family buzzed around them, the bots at their booted feet, the drones flying above their heads.
“I could accompany you.” His gerel plucked at her hand coverings as they walked. “If there’s a malfunction, I could repair it.”
“There won’t be a malfunction.” He was touched by her offer.
She didn’t like leaving her bot-filled sanctuary. Other beings made her nervous, caused her shoulders to climb upward, prompted bad dreams.
Those bad dreams, he wagered, were the reason she refused to fully bond with him. The ruttings without entry shaved the edge off his desire but never truly sated it.
He would continue to battle her doubts and her past, understanding why she resisted taking that final step in their relationship. She had been betrayed by the beings who should have stood by her side, safeguarded her. It would take time and persistence to overcome that.
He had both of those. “Stay in the laboratory. I’ll return to you in a shift.”
“Or you might return sooner?” Her tone was hopeful.
“Or I might return sooner.” His lips lifted. He liked that she missed him.
She bracketed his cheeks with her leather-clad palms. “Trust yourself.” Her gaze locked with his. There was no doubt in her big brown eyes. “Your mechanical fingers will work. You can do this.”
“I can do this.” He brushed his lips over hers, appreciating her pep talk. “Contact me if you want to leave the laboratory.” He would protect her. Always. Her safety came first.
“I will.” She stepped backward. A bot chirped behind her.
Qulpa gave his gerel one more quick kiss and strode out the doors, entering the hallway.
A warrior lingered outside the laboratory, leaning against a wall, perusing a private viewscreen. The male dipped his head toward the closed doors and lifted his eyebrows, meeting his gaze.
Qulpa said nothing, neither confirming nor denying his relationship with their Head of Ship and Weapons Design. His gerel wasn’t yet ready to go public with their connection and he would honor that.
Everyone knew she was under his protection, that they would answer to him if she was harmed. That was enough for him…for now.
He accelerated, in a rush to test his flying abilities in the training chamber and then return to his female. As he neared the space, he spotted Ariq.
Second’s best warrior was chatting with two other Chameles. When he saw Qulpa, he slapped his friends on their shoulders and hurried to catch up with him.
“Have you fought with your new fingers?” Ariq loved battle. That was one of the reasons he excelled at it.
Qulpa wasn’t as obsessed as his friend was with fighting. “I have to wait one more planet rotation before testing them…in the fighting rings. Those are Lead Medic’s orders.”
“She’ll zap you if you disobey them.” His friend winced.
“I wager she would.” Qulpa nodded. He’d only risk that fate if his gerel was in danger and required his battle skills.
“You have to wait before testing your fingers…in the fighting rings.” Ariq picked up on his hint. “You’re testing them on the flight simulators today.” He guessed correctly. “Be successful, warrior.” His voice lowered. “Urus is an ass. He won’t mesh well with the team.”
“He’s a great pilot.” Honesty required Qulpa to say that. He didn’t like the younger male either. It would irk him if Urus took his place.
“Being a great pilot doesn’t stop him from being an ass,” Ariq muttered. “He’s the type of warrior who gets his entire team killed.”
That thought had crossed Qulpa’s mind also. He drew his shoulders back. Reaffirming his right to the role of Second’s main pilot would not only protect Nayan. It would also protect the team he belonged to, his brothers of the heart.
They entered the pilot-training chamber together. Heads turned.
Urus was loitering as he usually did in the space. He saw Qulpa and smirked. “These machines are for flying, not crashing.” That was said loud enough to attract attention.
Pilots abandoned their own training exercises and drifted around them. Qulpa lifted his chin. He’d have an audience for these test flights.
“I’ve logged more time on these machines than anyone else.” He met his rival’s gaze. “I know what they’re for.”
“You’re going to crash, old male.” Urus was determined to be the ass everyone else thought him to be.
“I wager you complete the course.” Ariq cuffed Qulpa’s shoulder and ventured into the crowd. “Who will take that wager?”
Chameles called out odds. Their kind loved to bet on anything and everything.
The popular prediction was…he’d crash. Son of a Gechii. Qulpa silently cursed. That wasn’t confidence inspiring.
He chose a simulator, a machine he’d utilized in the past, sat in the captain’s chair before the viewscreen. The console was similar to the one on his previous ship. He skimmed his fingertips over the embedded private viewscreen. It felt as familiar as his gerel’s touch.
She was with him, her scent lingering on his skin, her sweet taste coating his tongue. He would do this…for her, for Ariq, for the rest of the team.
Beings gathered around, gawking at him. Some, like Ariq, wanted him to succeed. Some, like Urus, wanted him to crash. That would free a role, which would advance everyone’s status one level. Chameles were extremely competitive.
Qulpa was no exception. He flexed his fingers.
“I wager the old male doesn’t make it around the third bend.” Urus was intent on humiliating him. “His time has passed, and this planet rotation, that will be made clear.”
Chameles jeered. Qulpa blocked out the sounds, the voices, the doubt.
Trust yourself. His gerel had told him that. You can do this.
He started the virtual engines, lifted off. The ship heeled from side to side. Pilots heckled him, told him he flew like a child. He ignored them, guiding the virtual vessel through open sky.
Stars. He had missed this—soaring above the ground, becoming one with the machine he was navigating. The task required his complete concentration. All of his other concerns fell away.
Then there was the testing of his skill, the challenge of maneuvering a large ship moving at high speeds through narrow routes. He lowered the vessel into the canyon. It felt natural, as though everything around him was an extension of his body.
He made the first turn, the second, the third, accelerating more and more and more. The rock walls whizzed by him. A calmness settled upon him, a rightness. He didn’t think. He didn’t struggle. He simply flew, piloting his ship as he’d never done previously.
The route was completed too quickly, the experience over before he’d fully enjoyed it. Qulpa passed the end point, landed the simulated ship.
It was then that he noticed the cheering. He blinked, looked around him. Pilots raised their arms in shared victory, laughing and chattering. Urus appeared stunned, his mouth wide open. Ariq grinned from ear to ear.
What had happened? Qulpa glanced at the statistics on the viewscreen and his jaw dropped. He had not only completed the route without crashing, he had broken the all-time speed record while doing so.
“My fingers work.” He gazed down at them. His gerel was gifted.
“I can confirm they do work.” Ariq rushed up to him and clobbered him on the shoulder, his hand heavy. “The old male’s time hasn’t passed just yet.” He chuckled. “You showed them.”
Qulpa stood tall, his chest expanding with pride. His role was secure. He remained the best pilot in the fleet…thanks to his gerel’s mechanics. He looked forward to sharing his success with her.
“It was luck.” Urus sneered, his eyes bright with rage. “And it was a simulation. Anyone could fly that fast once.”
“The machine is all yours.” Qulpa waved at the chair. “Show us how fast you can fly.”
“Your fingers are fake.” The male didn’t take that bait. “You’re not a true pilot.”
That harsh judgment was what his female would face if her secret was revealed. He wasn’t a true pilot. She wasn’t a true Chamele. They were both freaks, a word he hated.
“I’m different.” Qulpa defended both of them. “There’s nothing wrong with being different.”
“There’s everything wrong with it.” The male approached him, his fingers clenched into fists. “A real pilot should be flying Second’s ship.”
He bumped his chest against Qulpa’s, trying to knock him backward.
Qulpa, anticipating that act of aggression, had braced himself against the tiled floor. He didn’t move.
“The best pilot should be flying Second’s ship.” Qulpa shoved the male with both of his hands. Urus fell on his ass. Qulpa extended his claws and loomed over him. “I’m the best pilot.”
Urus skittered backward, out of range. “That remains to be seen.” He scrambled to his feet and slinked away.
Qulpa watched him go, not taking his gaze off the younger male until he had left the chamber. Urus lacked honor, might strike a rival warrior behind his back.
“You will have to do something about him.” Ariq voiced Qulpa’s thoughts. “All Chameles are competitive, but that is something else, something darker. He’ll cause trouble for you.”
He might cause trouble for Nayan also. Qulpa had planned to return directly to his gerel but he didn’t want Urus to follow him to her laboratory.
“Beating the route record warrants a fermented beverage.” He punched Ariq’s arm.
“That beverage is on me.” The warrior grinned. “I have winnings to collect.”
* * *
Half a shift later, Qulpa was playing medic to an unappreciative young warrior.
“I can hold my own fermented beverage.” Yesun complained as Qulpa held the container to his lips.
“If Lead Medic finds out you held your own fermented beverage and strained your wounds, both of us will be zapped.” He told the youth. Second’s gerel had used her tiny gun on beings for lesser reasons.
All three of them—Yesun, Ariq, and Qulpa—grimaced. No one wanted to experience one of Lead Medic’s zaps.
Yesun drank. When he was done, Qulpa plunked the empty container on the horizontal support.
The beverage distribution chamber was crammed with Chamele warriors, male and female. Chatter buzzed. Wagers were exchanged. Two warriors wrestled in the middle of the space, punching and kicking, while others cheered. The air smelled of blood and sweat and fermented beverage.
Qulpa longed for the peace and quiet of his gerel’s laboratory. He missed her smile, her voice, her gentle touch.
“That female has been eyeing you for several moments.” Ariq nudged his arm.
He glanced at his admirer. She was tall and broad, with long black hair, golden skin, and dark eyes, the epitome of a Chamele female. Normal, his gerel would call her.
“She’s not my type.” He shrugged. Normal no longer interested him. He belonged to a truly unique female, wouldn’t settle for anyone other than her.
“The rumors are true.” Ariq gaped at him. “Wow.”
“What rumors?” Yesun frowned. “What did I miss?”
“Wow.” Ariq repeated that word. “Her. I would have never considered her for a casual rutting.”
Rage rose within Qulpa. “You will not consider her for anything.” He extended his claws, angling them at his friend. “Touch her and you die.”
Both warriors stared at him.
“She’s your gerel.” Ariq grinned, not at all perturbed by the threat.
Zondoo. Qulpa swallowed a curse. Nayan was going to run far and fast when she found out Ariq had guessed one of their secrets.
That was his fault. He should have limited the time spent with his brethren. There was no concealing anything from them. They had fought together for solar cycles, likely knew him better than he knew himself.
“She’s my gerel.” He confirmed that fact, retracting his claws.
The furrows on Yesun’s forehead deepened. “Who is your gerel? Who are we talking about?”
Qulpa, aware others could be listening to them, held up his right hand. Ariq chuckled.
The youth’s puzzled expression didn’t change.
“She was responsible for my mechanical fingers.” Qulpa gave him another hint.
Yesun rubbed his chin. “Your gerel is Lead Medic? But I thought she was Second’s gerel? Are you going to share her? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“You don’t think at all.” Ariq shook his head.
“She crafted my mechanical fingers.” Qulpa clarified that point for the youth.
“But Head of Ship and Weapons Design crafted your fingers.” Yesun’s eyebrows lowered. “Oh.” His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. Oh. She is your gerel?”
Heads around them turned.
“Talk quieter.” Qulpa hushed the youth.
His warning came too late. A buzz of chatter spread over the chamber, originating from their horizontal support.
Soon, everyone would know Nayan was his gerel. They would speculate why he hadn’t fully bonded with her.
It wasn’t normal for a warrior and his gerel to delay solidifying their genetic connection. His self-conscious female would be the focus of gossip.
He had wanted to wait for her to accept their link, to instigate the bonding. But they were out of time. He had to claim her as soon as possible.
“Can she design a weapon for me?” Yesun’s voice bubbled with excitement. “Something big and powerful with flames.”
The gossip had reached the perimeters of the beverage distribution chamber. Beings looked in his direction and then left. Private viewscreens shone in the dimly lit space. The entire planet would know about his relationship with Nayan before sunset.
Qulpa clenched his jaw, fighting the impulse to rush out of the beverage outlet. His urge to see his gerel was strong.
But it was also foolish. Approaching his already skittish female without having a battle strategy firmly in place would only increase her panic.
He had to think the situation through before speaking with her, plot his assault, consider her possible defenses. This was the most important war he’d ever wage and he would do anything, including abandon his honor, to emerge triumphant.
“Fire is difficult to control once employed.” Ariq dismissed Yesun’s wild idea. “I knew who she was to Qulpa first.” His friend leaned closer to him. “I should be the first warrior to receive a weapon.”
The two warriors argued. Qulpa ordered more fermented beverages for all of them and plotted his strategy to win over his gerel. Permanently.
* * *
It took several more moments to leave the beverage outlet. Qulpa followed an indirect path to the laboratory, utilized all of his senses to ensure he wasn’t being followed.
He placed his right palm on the control panel. The doors opened and his chest warmed. His gerel had given him access to her private space.
The bots and drones welcomed him back, buzzing around him, chirping, rubbing against him for pats and strokes. Their enthusiasm about seeing him bolstered his confidence.
His gerel trusted him. Her creations liked him. He would convince her to bond with him.
“How did it go?” Nayan hurried toward him, her eyes shining, a smile curling her lush lips.
A sense of rightness settled over him.
For solar cycles, he’d searched for a place to call his. He’d now found it. Except it wasn’t a place. It was her.
She was his home.
“I beat the route record.” He grasped his gerel’s hands and drew her against him, reveling in the way her body folded into his. “I flew like I’ve never flown. The connection between me and the virtual ship was…” He couldn’t find the words to describe it.
“It was magical.” She understood what he was trying to say. “There were no barriers between you and the ship.”
She had designed the mechanical fingers to do that, he realized. He’d thought they would add layers between him and the ship. Instead, her gift to him had removed obstructions, bringing him closer to the vessel.
“Thank you.” He grazed her lips with his and leaned his forehead against hers. “My role is secure due to you.”
“It’s due to you also.” She generously gave him credit. “You’re a skilled pilot. That’s almost as important as my designs.” Her eyes sparkled.
Her teasing filled his heart with joy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He kissed the tip of her nose and she blinked. “Once Second finds a replacement ship for us, I’ll show you how skilled I am.”
“You’ll show everyone how skilled you are.” Her smile wavered. “Your fingers work. You don’t need me anymore.”
“I’ll always need you.” He swung her into his arms and she yelped, clinging to him. “My desire for you has nothing to do with my fingers.”
“That’s why others believe we’re spending time together.” Concern reflected in her beautiful eyes. “Now that your fingers are functioning well, they’ll start to wonder why you’re here. They might link the two of us together.”
They had already done that. He carried her to the sleeping support.
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “We could say you’re helping me with the ship design.”
“You could say that.” But no one would believe her. “Or you could tell them you’re my gerel. I’m your warrior.” He set her down on the surface. “Because that is what we are, what we will always be.”
“I couldn’t do that to you. You don’t know what it’s like.” She sighed, her sadness tormenting him. “Being…not normal.”
“I know what that feels like, Nayan.” Qulpa straightened to his full height and peered down at her.
Her lips twisted. “You can’t truly understand what that feels like. Not until you’ve experienced it.” She hugged her knees to her breasts.
That must have been how she’d protected her chest during her attacks. He crossed his arms in front of him to stop from reaching for her, comforting her.
Soft words and gentle caresses wouldn’t topple the huge emotional barrier erected between them. That demolition required a more aggressive strategy.
“What does it feel like?” He went on the offensive. “Is it facing constant, unrelenting rejection, realizing it doesn’t matter how hard you try or how good you are, it isn’t good enough…because of who you are?” He met her gaze.
Her face turned pale. “Qulpa—”
“Is it completing a difficult route in record time and then being told it doesn’t count because you’re not a true pilot?” He shared Urus’ response with her. “Being ridiculed for having fake fingers?” He held up his right hand. “Is it hearing a real pilot should have your role, should be flying Second’s ship? Is that what it feels like?”
“Who said those horrible things to you?” His gerel hastened to her knees, her eyes flashing. “Who spouted that idiocy? Tell me her name.” Her fingers balled into the cutest little fists. “I’ll talk with her.”
Judging by her fierce expression, there would be more than words exchanged. She looked ready to wage war on his behalf.
“His name isn’t important.” Qulpa captured his gerel’s fists and raised them to his lips, kissing her bare knuckles one by one. “I’m no longer normal.” If he ever was that way. “Everyone now knows that.”
“You’re no longer normal.” She stared at him. “You’re like me.”
“I’m like you.” They were both unique. “What are you going to do about that, Nayan? Will you abandon me like your family abandoned you?” He was ruthless with her. “Will you leave me to confront my detractors alone?”
“No. Never.” Her fervor reassured him. “I will never abandon you. I’ll always be by your side.”
“Then bond with me.” He urged her to take that step. “Claim me as your warrior.”