“How do I look?” Sage smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles on his black dress uniform and turned from the holographic mirror that had appeared on his cabin wall.

Tala thought the rows of ribbons and medals on his chest looked pretentious, but high-ranking military officers were probably supposed to look pretentious when they went to meetings with presidents, prime ministers, and other world leaders. Otherwise, who would take them seriously? The pleated white sash sweeping from shoulder to waist across his torso looked like a nod to the ancient Greek chiton, and she wondered if someone would explain to the world leaders where the humans of the Confederation had originally come from. Of course, those leaders might be too busy being nervous about the ceremonial short sword at his waist and the dagger sheathed across the sash to listen. She imagined metal detectors screeching disapprovingly when he walked in.

“Honestly?” Tala asked as she finished scrutinizing him, especially the humorless aspect to his face and the way he was lifting his chin and looking down his nose at her. She recognized his commander’s facade by now, the one he adopted when he didn’t want people to know what he was thinking. “You look arrogant, pretentious, and like a bit of an asshole.”

Sage smoothed his tunic again. “Good. I got it right then.”

Tala snorted, but didn’t disagree. She hoped those world leaders would wet themselves when he walked in. Unlike the gray-haired space fleet admirals who had also been selected to accompany two of the Confederation’s archons down for the meeting, Sage looked like he could kick the asses of anyone who stood in his way. Which was probably a good thing. Those stuffed-shirted politicians needed someone cool and calculating and deadly staring at them as they spoke with the archons. And handsome.

She smiled. Even with that arrogant tilt to his chin, Sage was definitely that.

“Are we going to do anything special after you finish politicking?” she asked.

Tala supposed she should be more excited about the potential alliance that was forthcoming, but she was mostly hoping that the world leaders—the archons had let the Earthlings decide among themselves which nations were important enough to warrant representation—didn’t do anything stupid. Or get into fights with each other. Maybe if the humans of Earth realized what was going on in the rest of the galaxy, including the threats that alien civilizations represented, they would be less likely to war among themselves. There were plenty of quotes about that, weren’t there? Having common enemies was supposed to band people together.

“You look even more pensive than I do,” Sage said, abandoning the fidgeting with his uniform to come closer to her.

“I’m worried my people will make asses of themselves and cause us to be ostracized forever.”

Maybe it would help that the two peoples didn’t speak the same languages. Would Lieutenant Coric go along to translate? She’d been chatting with Yulia, learning some English, but Tala doubted she’d had time to master the language. The Confederation people could be bringing some of their translation chips to make things easy.

“I wasn’t a direct witness when other human worlds were invited into the Confederation during my lifetime,” Sage said, “but I follow the news, of course. The trend is for people to put forward excellent representations of themselves at the early meetings. If they’re asses, that generally comes out later.”

“Comforting.”

“There’s only been one world where we came to learn it had been a blatant mistake to invite them in. Unfortunately, that was relatively recently, so it’s fresh in people’s minds.”

“Even more comforting.”

Sage chuckled and wrapped his arms around her.

The hard sheath of that ceremonial dagger in his sash poked against her chest, but she welcomed the hug.

“Whatever happens,” Sage murmured, resting his chin against her hair, “whether the archons decide not to have further contact—or your people say they’re uninterested in further contact—I promise to fly you home to see your mother and your friends before the Falcon leaves your planet.”

“And before I leave with the Falcon, right?” Tala leaned back to look into his eyes.

They had discussed this before, and her willingness to stay aboard had generally been contingent on Earth being brought into the Confederation—or there at least being regular spaceflight between it and Dethocoles—but as the weeks had passed, she had grown more and more comfortable with her role in his sickbay. The idea of going back to the relatively poor medical technology of Earth, not to mention all the politics and bureaucracy she’d been fleeing from in the first place, was enough to make her cringe. Also, she had a hard time imagining going back to her empty apartment in Flagstaff, with nobody for company except her cat. Assuming Mindy had made it. God, she hoped so. She hoped the police had come to her apartment when she’d turned up missing, that the animal shelter had been alerted, and someone there was taking care of the cat.

“You know I would be pleased to have you heading up my sickbay,” Sage said. “And now that I’m back in my government’s good graces, I have the power to officially make that happen.”

He tapped one of the medals on his chest, a recent addition he’d received at a ceremony Tala and Juanita had been invited to attend. Katie had also been there, receiving her own medal. Indi, Angela, and the other women had been back on Tyrax Station. Tala wished Indi had been there, so she could have been recognized for the work she’d done to get them out of that ancient alien system. From the gossip Tala had heard, the Confederation was already scheming ways to get an archaeological team past the belligerent Scyllans and into the Wanderer System to study the ruins. The ceremony, however, had been more about honoring those who’d fought and died protecting the Dethocoleans from the Zi’i.

Sage had worn a stony, unreadable expression for most of the event, though he’d looked a little bemused when one of his commanding officers and one of the archons magnanimously told him his indiscretions had been forgiven. He’d never believed he was in the wrong, and she imagined he’d secretly wanted to pop that archon on the nose for not listening to him in the first place. At least he’d been given permission to bring all the women home while on his mission to reach out to the locals.

“Yes, it’s good to be a hero, I’m sure,” Tala said, resting a hand on his chest. “By the way, what finally made your government decide that sending representatives to Earth—and not breaking our wormhole gate—was a good idea? That didn’t come up at your awards ceremony.”

“I’d like to say that my brilliant oratory skills won the archons over.”

“But they didn’t?”

“No, it was Hierax’s brilliant oratory skills.”

“Hierax orates? To entities other than his tools?”

“It seems your friend Indi commanded Hierax to come up with a solution to our mutual problem.” Sage waved, perhaps to encompass everyone on the ship. “You see, she wanted to stay on Dethocoles and have a relationship with my chief engineer, but she also wanted access to her home world and her family and friends there.”

“Yes, several of us have expressed similar desires,” Tala said dryly.

“Perhaps, I should say it was Hierax’s bribery skills that came into play here. Once tasked with this difficult equation to solve, he researched the archons assiduously. And he also researched their families.”

“Was this before, after, or during the time he was creating super weapons and repairing the ships?”

“I’m not sure. He is a busy man. And possibly almost as brilliant as he thinks he is.”

Tala made a non-committal “mm” noise. It sounded like Indi might have been the truly brilliant one.

“In researching the archons’ families, Hierax discovered something that I confess hadn’t occurred to me. Five of the archons have parents who are alive. Mothers, specifically. And two of those mothers know each other and are colleagues at the University of Euripides in the capital. One studies and teaches archaeology. Another is an anthropologist. With the help of Juanita, who had some data about Gaian history on her computer-phone, Hierax prepared an impressive presentation about Gaia’s cultures current and past that included images of all manner of artifacts, ruins, and imagery of Gaia itself—your planet has some beautiful scenery.”

“Yes,” Tala murmured, starting to see where this was going, and amused that some encyclopedia app Juanita had on her phone had been a determining factor.

“Hierax sent them the presentation and pointed out that it would be a shame if the Confederation chose to ostracize itself instead of opening up relations with Gaia, whose people would undoubtedly allow visiting scholars to come explore the various museums, archaeological sites, and the like. These two professors hadn’t been in the loop before, since the government was quite hush-hush in regard to your planet. But once they found out, I gather they grabbed their sons by the ears and said, ‘You will open up relations with Gaia, or I’ll have your father paddle you until you’re black-and-blue.’ Never mind that both of the archons in question are in their sixties.”

Tala smiled. “You never stop being your mother’s child.”

“Indeed. A short time later, I was informed that, even though two large and imposing space fleet warships would come along to make a good—also known as intimidating—impression, I would be taking the delegation of ambassadors, diplomats, and several chosen professors to Gaia.”

Tala remembered a gray-haired woman she’d seen walking the corridors of the Falcon 8 and talking to Yulia. “Is one of those professors along on the ship?”

“She is. She’s been talking to some of your female comrades, those who are still living in the rec room and haven’t…”

“Shacked up with Star Guardians in their cabins?” Tala offered.

“Yes.” His lips thinned in an expression of disapproval.

Tala swatted him on the chest. “You’re not having hypocritical thoughts, are you?”

“Me? Never.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t object—much—to those who are discreet. I do find it alarming that my chief engineer is having… coitus in the engine room with his chosen woman. His engineering assistants are afraid to go in there lest they walk in on relations in progress.”

“Oh? Does he not hang a tie on the door?”

Sage frowned. “What?”

“Never mind. Surely he has his own cabin though.”

“He stores his tools in there.”

“Some people would put the tools in engineering and the coitus in the bedroom.”

“Yes, thank you for being sane. That’s what I told him. He simply said that engineering is ‘his place.’”

“Maybe you should let the professor know that he can be found there,” Tala said. “She may wish to question him further on his knowledge of Gaian history. Or simply thank him for alerting her to our planet.”

“Are you suggesting I use a ninety-year-old woman to get in the way of my engineer’s intimate moments?”

“On my planet, we call that cock-blocking. If it gets annoying, perhaps he’ll rethink his cabin-as-tool-storage-shed strategy.”

“Or he’ll build a special cubby down there in engineering with sound-absorbing privacy walls. I suppose either solution works.”

“Seeing as you have a tie shortage, yes.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Are you going to explain that to me?”

“Maybe one day. Or maybe I’ll tell your anthropology professor about it. A quirky Earth custom.” Tala kissed him, looping her arms around his shoulders and wondering if he would be offended if she rumpled his uniform a bit.

Sage did not seem distressed by having her body pressed against his clothing. He slipped his arms around her waist and returned the kiss, kindling heat in her body and reminding her that her reasons for wanting to stay weren’t entirely career-related.

The kiss might have continued on, but his logostec beeped.

“We’ve been given landing coordinates, sir,” Zakota said, “so we’re heading in. It should only be about fifteen minutes until you and the political types can depart.”

“Thank you, Zakota,” Sage said, gazing at Tala with hooded eyes. Was he thinking about all the things that could be accomplished in fifteen minutes if one didn’t mind rumples?

She would go along with him if he wanted to try, but she would prefer a long, romantic evening, lounging in a hammock out under the stars. As crazy as it seemed after all they had been through, it should still be late summer back home. A beautiful time of year in Flagstaff, when the monsoon season was tailing off, the temperatures were pleasant, and the foliage was lush and green—at least by Arizona standards.

“You never answered my question about what we would do after the politicking,” Tala pointed out.

“I won’t be politicking. I’ll be standing behind the archons and touching my sword in an intimidating manner.”

“My people aren’t super worried about swords. Despite your people’s certainty that we’re primitive, we’re exceedingly good at making war and maiming people.”

“So I should bring along a warhead to fondle?”

“I don’t think they let those past the metal detectors.”

“Can your detectors pick up the Wanderer alloy? I could bring one of Hierax’s super weapons.”

“There are more of them?” Tala hadn’t witnessed the Zi’i weapons platform blowing up from the inside out, but she’d heard it had been impressive. And scary enough to send the remaining invaders fleeing.

“Probably in his cabin with his tools.”

“I’m going to have to make sure not to do anything to irritate that man. It’s a good thing your medical scanner technology has made the traditional method of performing a prostate exam obsolete.”

Sage lowered his arms and stepped back. “That officially put thoughts of fifteen-minute sexual encounters out of my head.”

“Talking about prostates?”

“Talking about Hierax’s prostate, definitely.” Sage shuddered and bent to run a kerchief over his boots for the third time, no doubt to ensure they gleamed sufficiently. “As for what we’ll do after the event, my ship and I are at your disposal. I assume you’ll want to be dropped off in Flagstaff, was it? The town you were all kidnapped from.”

“Yes, Juanita and Angela are dying to see if the dogs in the shelter all made it through that night, and I want to check on my cat.”

“Should I consider it odd that you’re more concerned about animals than people? Family?”

“People can feed and water themselves. Usually.”

“Of course.” Sage straightened, tucked away the kerchief, and smiled at her. Damn, he was handsome. She’d never considered herself the type to be wowed by a man in uniform, but clearly, she hadn’t met the right man. Until now. “And then? Perhaps as the Gaian native, you should choose the activity.”

“Katie has invited Juanita, Indi, Angela, and me down to her cabin in the woods outside of town.” Tala hadn’t mentioned the invitation earlier since she wasn’t sure if Sage would want to spend time with his men—he seemed to distance himself from them, for the most part. But Orion would be there, so maybe he would appreciate the chance to roast hot dogs in the fire pit Katie had spoken of. “They’re all planning to spend a night in town before heading off to visit their families, and introduce their new… boyfriends.”

It seemed a strange word to use to describe the hulking, tattooed Star Guardians, but Sage didn’t raise an eyebrow, so an appropriate translation must have come through.

“I think they asked me because they wanted some music.” Tala pantomimed playing the violin. “Indi and I are thinking of starting a band based on Wanderer music.”

“Really?”

“No, it was a joke. I don’t think my people are ready for that.”

His mouth twisted wryly. “I doubt mine are, either.”

His logostec beeped again, and he said, “I better go.”

Tala and the other women hadn’t been invited to go to the political meeting, but that was fine with her. Not only was her one set of clothing shabbier than most people’s painting rags by this point, but she had zero interest in meeting the president or any other leaders or dignitaries. The bullshit meter for the entire proceeding would be off the charts, she was sure.

Sage leaned in for a parting kiss, distracting her from further thoughts of excrement.

“Was that a yes?” Tala asked as he headed for the door. “You’re agreeing to come to Katie’s cabin to roast hot dogs?”

His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head. “My translation chip gave me the oddest combination of words for that term you used.”

“Hot dogs? They aren’t actual dogs. Not that you have dogs, as far as I’ve heard.”

“Perforated, formed, and tubular meat is what I got.”

“Ah. That’s not inaccurate, I suppose. I’ll make sure there are burgers too. That ought to suit your carnivorous palate.” Maybe she would swing by the Whole Foods in town to pick up some more exotic fare. It seemed a shame to foist burgers and hot dogs on visitors from another planet. Shouldn’t they try to put their best foot forward?

“There’s truly only one thing my palate would like to enjoy tonight.” Sage gave her a leer that he was too wholesome to fully pull off, then saluted and walked out.

Tala’s thoughts turned to hammocks under the stars again.

“You’re sitting on my gear shifter,” Katie said as her dusty old truck bumped down the dirt road into town.

“And you prefer Zakota do that?” Juanita grinned at her as she stuck her feet up on the dash.

Katie arched an eyebrow at her. She liked Juanita, and Angela too, but they both seemed more like college kids than real adults. If Juanita had changed as a result of their epic and sometimes scary journey, it wasn’t apparent to Katie.

“I think she prefers sitting on his gear shifter,” Angela said from the other side of the cab.

The three of them were riding up front on the bench seat, making the space tight, though not as tight as it would have been if any of their broad-shouldered, muscular men had been up there. Treyjon, Orion, and Zakota lounged in the open truck bed, pointing and gesturing toward the trees, involved in some conversation of their own. Perhaps it also involved gear shifters.

“This is not untrue,” Katie said, allowing herself to be drawn in, despite thoughts of immaturity.

It felt good to be home, with the scents of pine, creosote, and sagebrush wafting through the window, a recent rain making them particularly pungent. The Falcon 8 had landed close to her cabin, which was fifteen minutes outside of town and bordered the national forest. The ship was unlikely to be molested by anything other than itinerant javelinas and coyotes. The cattle noshing on grass to one side of the meadow had gazed at the fire falcon with bland indifference as it landed and disgorged Star Guardians and formerly kidnapped women. The captain, after forbidding his crew to drive or fly into town on the various science fiction-y vehicles in the cargo hold, had granted shore leave to anyone who wanted it. Katie wasn’t sure how the rest of the crew would make the trip, but maybe they would jog their brawny butts through the forest for the ten miles into town.

It had been about six hours since the big meeting between Sagitta’s people and Earth’s world leaders, and she was sure clips were being broadcast on all the news channels and social media outlets around the world, but everything had taken place over in London, so Katie didn’t expect people to be looking for aliens—or alien humans—in Flagstaff. Sagitta was the only Star Guardian that had been there for the cameras to possibly catch, and he and Tala were still aboard the ship, though surprisingly, Tala had said they would come to the shindig Katie was hosting this evening. Indi had promised she would drag Hierax out of engineering as soon as possible too. Apparently, it was hard for people who didn’t outrank Hierax to command him out of his cozy tool- and robot-filled nook.

“How far are we from town?” Angela asked. “There’s a broken spring poking me in the butt.”

“Don’t worry,” Katie said. “I’m not charging you extra for the bonus features like that.”

“Are you charging us to start with?” Angela’s eyes widened as she seemed to worry about this.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure Bessy would fail the Uber test.”

“Bessy?” Juanita lifted her brows.

“Bessy.” Katie patted the outside of the door of the faded blue truck, something that was easy to do since the driver-side window didn’t roll up.

“I was imagining you as more of a Jeep girl.”

“Like a Wrangler? Those are expensive, and it’s easy to find someone with one in town if you want to go off-roading.”

“Aren’t we doing that now?” Juanita asked as they drove through a dip on its way to becoming a legitimate wash.

“Ha ha.” Katie smirked as she imagined taking the city-born geek girl rock crawling along the Broken Arrow trail in Sedona. Maybe Brian at the office would let her borrow his Jeep. She could throw Zakota and Orion in the back, and if they flipped it, their brawny Star Guardians could heft it back upright.

Katie turned them onto the pavement. Another mile, and they would hit the freeway, where she could show off Bessy’s amazing ability to get to sixty without sputtering and dying. She loved the old truck, though, and her cabin in the woods too. She was excited about what the future might hold, but she would definitely keep her home here on Earth. Maybe she could make some good money with AirBnB while she was gone. Wherever she ended up going. Zakota had mentioned both civilian and military options for people wanting to become pilots. She wasn’t quite sure yet how money and paying for tuition worked in the rest of the galaxy, but she would find a way. She didn’t think she could go back to flying geologists around after having piloted spaceships into battle. All right, shuttles, but those shuttles hadn’t been half bad. Aside from the smell.

“Oh, I know where we are now,” Angela said, as they rolled toward I-40. “I can’t wait to get to the shelter.”

“I can’t wait to eat real food,” Juanita said.

Angela frowned at her.

“And, yes, I want to see the dogs and Ben. More the dogs than Ben. We’ve been gone so long, though, that they all probably got adopted.”

“Just as long as they were all right. They got so scared by those slavers. Oh, and there’ll be new dogs in.” Angela gripped Juanita’s forearm.

“Still excited about dogs, now that you’ve experienced svenkars?” Katie asked.

“I’m excited about everything with four legs,” Angela said.

“And some things with two legs, too, I hope.” Katie glanced through the rear window.

Treyjon and Orion were being good boys, simply sitting in the bed with theirs arms slung over the side. Zakota was standing in the back of the truck, legs spread and arms out, like he was surfing.

“My two-legs is going to get me a ticket,” Katie added dryly as she accelerated onto the freeway.

Zakota crouched low, apparently excited by the challenge of staying upright in the vehicle. Pilots were the same all over the galaxy, it seemed. Adrenaline junkies.

Maybe it was a good thing that her truck couldn’t go all the way up to the seventy-mile-per-hour speed limit.

“It might be hard to explain Star Guardians to the police,” Juanita said.

“Especially when they don’t have any ID,” Katie said.

“They have ID chips in their hands, I heard,” Angela said.

“So if the police took them to the shelter, maybe they could be ID’d there, the same as dogs.”

Zakota settled down when Katie drove them through town to get to the shelter. She pulled into the lot, and a woman screamed and ran toward the passenger side.

“Either someone’s recognized you,” Katie told Angela, “or someone is jealous that you got my seat with the bonus features.”

“That’s Dorothy,” Juanita said. “She’s like some of the dogs. She’ll greet you enthusiastically whether you’ve been gone for five minutes or five months.”

“In this case, enthusiasm is probably warranted.” Katie watched with amusement as the two young women climbed out of the truck and were promptly smothered by an older lady who weighed as much as both of them combined. She flung meaty arms around them and promptly demanded to know where they had been. She squinted suspiciously at Katie. As if she were the kidnapper.

The men hopped out of the back of the truck, with Orion and Treyjon going to stand beside their ladies, their smothered ladies.

Zakota slid into the vacated seat and grinned over at Katie.

“Finally, I have you alone,” he announced.

“We’ve been parted for ages.”

Zakota had bribed Asan to take some of his shifts, and he and Katie had spent most of the trip to Earth ensconced in his cabin, bonking like rabbits. They’d taken occasional breaks to discuss ships—he had twenty models of different types of spacecraft, and he’d been delighted when she had demanded to know the specs on them and how they flew. She’d also been interested in the kinds of aircraft that had developed on different planets. He’d swooned a couple of times, delighted that she found the subject appealing. Not that he would approve of her calling it swooning. He’d insisted he’d merely been overcome by manly feelings.

“Ages,” he agreed, then looked down at his seat. “Something’s poking me in the butt.”

“Yes, my seats have bonus features. Some people find it alarming. Others titillating.”

“Titillating?”

“When we get going fast, the seats vibrate.”

“Huh.” He patted some of the splits next to his thigh. “For you, the Zi’i shuttlecraft might have been an upgrade.”

“No way. It didn’t have seats.”

“But it had that nice box I made for you.”

Katie snorted and put the truck in gear. Juanita and Angela had freed themselves enough to wave at her. She’d agreed to pick them up after she shopped for barbecue supplies.

The greeter—Dorothy—was giving Orion and Treyjon wary looks, but there seemed to be a hint of speculation in those looks, as well, perhaps because both men were wearing their gray tank tops with their uniform trousers, leaving a lot of arm muscle on display.

“We’re off to acquire food next,” Katie told Zakota, rolling out of the parking lot.

“Good. I need a break from steaks.”

“I thought all Star Guardians liked their restricted diet.”

“We just say that around the captain. So, when do I get to fly your airplane?”

Katie blinked and looked over at him.

“You flew all my stuff,” he said. “It seems fair.”

“The plane I fly for work belongs to the government. It’s not mine.”

“The spaceship I fly for work belongs to the government,” he replied blandly. “It’s not mine, either, but I still let you fly it.”

“Technically, you let me fly spaceships that you guys stole from some alien government.”

“We didn’t steal them. We conquered them in war and claimed them for our home worlds. That’s honorable.”

“You still haven’t let me touch the helm of the Falcon 8,” Katie said, turning into town, heading for Whole Foods instead of Walmart, as she’d planned.

Tala had given her a list of items she wanted for the shindig, items that were to be purchased at the more expensive store. The good doctor had turned up her nose at the idea of hot dogs, refusing to foist tubular meat, or whatever she’d called it, on her dear captain. Oh, well. She’d promised to pay Katie back for the groceries. A surgeon ought to be good for it. Though Katie wasn’t sure that Star Guardian surgeons made the big money that Earth ones did. Zakota certainly hadn’t implied he was rolling in the dough.

“That’s because the captain is always on the bridge,” Zakota said, “or in the ready room. You’d think a man with a new girlfriend would spend less time working. Though I suppose Dr. Tala does visit him often in the ready room. For private meetings. But even if I sneaked you in, if he found out, he wouldn’t be pleased. He’s willing to write you that letter of recommendation, but not willing to have you flying his ship until you’re certified.”

“I know.”

“It’s not personal. He disapproves of all non-Star-Guardian personnel touching things on the bridge.”

“I’ll let you fly my plane if you sneak me onto the bridge so I can fly your ship.” Katie waggled her eyebrows at him as she drove into the grocery store parking lot. “We can go out first thing tomorrow morning.”

Assuming nobody had changed the keypad lock on the hangar since she’d been gone. She doubted it. She suspected 1999 had been the lock code since 1999.

“Hm, that might be worth getting in trouble for,” Zakota said.

“Excellent. But for now, we’re buying—what does that say?” Katie showed him Tala’s shopping list. “Crudités? Those are vegetables, aren’t they?”

“That’s not in Dethocolean or Amalcari. I can’t read it.”

“Hell, what kind of use are you going to be shopping?”

“I can hold heavy things.” Zakota flexed his biceps for her, which was quite nice.

“I don’t think crudités are heavy, but I suppose we should get a couple cases of beer.” Beer sounded awesome. Katie hoped they could find some that wasn’t too weird. She’d gone in here once for Indi and grabbed what she thought was beer out of the refrigerated section, and it had ended up being organic hard apple cider. Talk about disappointing.

“Is that a beverage?”

“Alcoholic, yes.”

“Good.” The truck had stopped, so he tried to open the door. It had a bit of a hitch to it.

“Like this.” Katie demonstrated the jerking up and out motion that it took.

“I’m confused by conveyances with hatches that have to be opened manually.”

“Yes, we all are.” Katie walked around the truck, opened the door from the outside, and held it open for him. “For the record, this is backwards. Here on Earth, men are supposed to hold doors open for women. We call it chivalry.”

“That sounds like a lot of work. Why don’t you just look into automatic hatches?”

“Give me a hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll buy a car with them.”

“Is that a lot?”

A couple of soccer-mom types walked past, giving Zakota a long look as they headed for the entrance. It might have been the teeth dangling on the thong around his neck, but Katie suspected it was the arms. As she’d noted earlier, they looked quite nice in his tank top, as did the rest of him. The material was fitted, so she could see the outline of his pecs and abs.

She smirked at him, amused that she had a trophy boyfriend for the first time in her life.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked, closing the truck door.

“Just thinking about how much fun I’m going to have flying a fire falcon.” She patted his arm and nodded toward the entrance.

“We have to find the right time to slip you onto the bridge.”

“It sounds like all I have to do is send Tala in for a special meeting with the captain in his ready room.”

“This is true.”

“That ought to buy us, what, thirty minutes? An hour? I’m a quick learner.”

“I’ve noticed those meetings usually last a couple of hours. You don’t have to be that quick.”

“Does he have a cot set up in there or something?” Katie asked, taking them through the front doors and into the produce section. She wondered what Tala would think if she just grabbed a bag of baby carrots for the vegetable requirement on the shopping list.

“Not that I know of, but the table is large. And sturdy.”

“That’s not how I pictured Tala getting it on. I assumed a big, comfortable bed would be involved. Satin sheets. Lots of pillows. Maybe a tray of crudités on the bedside table.”

“I had no idea you spent time imagining how your friends have sex,” Zakota said, looking more intrigued than appalled.

“Well, we were on the ship for weeks and weeks, and there’s really not that much to do in that rec room.”

He chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist. “Now you know why I spend so much time carving things.”

“Yes. All right, let’s buy a bunch of stuff and get back in time to set up the barbecue. It’s time to relax and celebrate being alive.”

“Max, Tiger, Brock, Nibbles, Fuji!” Angela exclaimed, recognizing several of the dogs in the kennels. Most of the familiar ones were gone—all adopted, she hoped—and she shouldn’t have been ecstatic to see ones she knew, since that meant they hadn’t been adopted yet, but she couldn’t help it. A grin sprawled across her face as she bounced to the different kennels.

“Max and Nibbles are going to a new home tomorrow,” Ben said, from behind her.

He and Dorothy had been ecstatic to see Angela and Juanita, and it had been heartwarming to know they’d been missed, that people besides their families and friends had worried about them.

“Where have you two been, anyway?” Dorothy asked. “And Dr. Matapang? Have you seen her? Let her know I have her cat at my house. Mindy was so upset when the police first brought her by, but she’s settled in with my boys. Oh, the police. It was so crazy. There was so much speculation when you all turned up missing, and—oh, pardon me.” Dorothy had bumped into Treyjon, and she peered up at him uncertainly.

Treyjon was studying the dogs and barely noticed. “They’re so small.”

He looked over at Angela while Juanita attempted to explain their two-month absence. The shelter staff had heard the stories about the “aliens” from another planet, as the news seemed to be reporting Earth’s visitors. Whether they believed any of Juanita’s story or not was another matter. Knowing her, she would want to show them the spaceship.

“That dog is part wolfhound,” Angela said, pointing to Brock. “He’s not small.”

“Lulu would eat him for a snack.”

“Lulu eats Zi’i twice her size for a snack.” Or so Angela had heard from Indi. She wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved that she hadn’t been there to see the svenkar take down the murderous alien.

“That one in engineering on the warship was only slightly larger than her,” Treyjon said.

“I stand corrected.” Angela moved farther down the row of kennels. “Now, that dog is small,” she said, pointing to a Chihuahua that snarled at them through the chain link.

“Lulu wouldn’t even have to chew.”

Angela swatted him on the chest.

“It’s clear that training such creatures is not a worthy challenge for you,” Treyjon said, “and that you’ll have to return to space with me. And the svenkars.”

“I’ll be happy to do so once I’ve been home to visit my parents. And you’ve come to visit them too. Do you like lavender lemonade? And lavender chocolates?”

“I don’t know, but I look forward to finding out. Assuming your parents think I’m an appropriate match for you and don’t drive me off the farm with pitchforks. Do they have pitchforks on Gaia?”

“Oh, yes.”

“So they’re a galaxy-wide tool? Who knew?”

“There must be hay all over the galaxy.” Angela wondered how many planets there were out there that could support human life and that could also grow plants from Earth. Would her entrepreneurial parents be interested in traveling to a different planet to start a galactic lavender farm? Maybe lavender would be a big hit elsewhere. An exotic plant from the mysterious and legendary Gaia.

“Of some sort, I suppose,” Treyjon said. “Lots of different species of what we call grasses.”

“Will you all be coming back to the shelter?” Dorothy asked Juanita, part of the ongoing conversation near the door. “We’ve picked up a couple of new volunteers, but we always have need for dog walkers.”

“I’m not sure yet. I may be going off on adventures with my new… friend.” Juanita beamed a smile up at Orion.

“Er, yes,” Dorothy said, eyeing him with more wariness than enthusiasm. “What language is that he’s—they’re—speaking? Where did you say they were from?”

“Outer space,” Juanita said. “You said you saw the news.”

“Yes, but I thought—well, I didn’t realize they were those people—aliens. They don’t look like aliens.”

“No, they’re human, the same as us. Their ancestors were taken from Earth.”

“Taken? Taken by whom?”

“That’s where the aliens come in.”

Dorothy looked faint.

Ben stuck his fingers in the loops of his jeans and gave Orion a frank look. “You have a house of your own? A yard?”

Orion blinked. “I don’t have a house right now. I live on my spaceship. I’m a bounty hunter.” He looked to Juanita to translate.

“Big spaceship? Room to run?”

“Not really.”

“Enh.” Ben waved at him in dismissal and walked toward Treyjon. “What about you?”

Treyjon scratched his scalp through his ropy dreads. “My family has a few huts and owns some of the land around the village. The Falcon 8, where I work, has room to do laps.”

“That’ll do. If any of these fine animals appeal to you, we could fill out the paperwork today.”

“Ben,” Angela said, realizing what he was trying to do.

“Some of them have been here a while,” Ben went on, looking at Treyjon instead of her. “Not the easiest personalities to deal with—some came from abusive and neglectful situations. They need good homes, a strong hand to establish who’s boss, but someone who’ll also treat ’em good, make sure they get exercise, and give them purpose.”

“What’s happening?” Treyjon whispered to Angela.

“He’s trying to get you to adopt a dog.”

“Or dogs,” Ben offered, stroking his gray beard. “Maybe he wants to populate his home world with dogs. Great hunters. Man’s best friend. Do they have dogs in outer space?”

Angela didn’t know how to answer, mostly because she was torn between laughing at the pitch and not believing that Ben had accepted the notion of space travel and humans from other planets without missing a beat. He was not, as far as she knew, a science fiction aficionado like Juanita.

Juanita merely watched this conversation, her eyes twinkling and two fingers pressed to her lips. They’d all seen Ben try to charm people into selecting one of his dogs instead of some pet store or breeder offering, so technically, this was nothing new.

“We’ve used various native species of animals for hunting purposes to varying degrees of domestication for centuries,” Treyjon said, Juanita again translating, “but as far as I know, creatures such as these were not taken from Gaia by the Wanderers.”

Juanita added a few more words to explain the Wanderer legend.

Ben listened, not appearing particularly fazed by the idea of people having once been plucked from Earth to colonize other planets.

“No dogs at all? I bet your quasi-domesticated predators don’t wag their tails when you come home, lick your hand, and hop up on the bed to watch TV with you.”

“Lulu wags,” Angela protested. “Sort of.”

A part of her wished they had brought Lulu along, but Angela feared her earlier joking would have proven all too apt, that the big svenkar would see dogs as a dinner treat.

“I’d be alarmed if she or any of the other svenkars climbed into bed with us,” Treyjon said.

“If you can provide a good home for some of these dogs, we can get you fixed up,” Ben said.

Dogs. There it was again. Ben was determined that there be many canines in outer space.

Angela laid a hand on Treyjon’s forearm, intending to lead him outside and away from the sales pitch. After all, Katie would have a truck full of groceries soon and be ready to head back for the barbecue.

But Treyjon turned toward the kennels with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You say some of these are hunters?” His eyebrows quirked at the Chihuahua.

“Yes, let me show you some of the hound mixes. Oh, and I’ve got a vizsla mix down here. She’d make a fine bird dog. Do they have birds in outer space?”

“Flying creatures of various sizes, yes.”

Juanita continued translating, though it didn’t seem like the two men needed it. They pointed and grunted as they moved away, this being sufficient for communication.

“What’s happening?” Angela asked, tugging on her braids. “I mean, is what I think is happening happening?”

“What’s the matter?” Juanita asked. “You don’t think Captain Sagitta will like dogs on his ship? They drool less than svenkars. Slightly.”

“I don’t think they’ll get along. The svenkars and the dogs,” she clarified.

“You’ll just have to keep them in separate cabins. Though maybe you could teach them to track game together—and not regard each other as enemies. Or prey. They could be one big happy pack. All watching TV on the bed with you.” Juanita grinned, her eyes twinkling even more now. “You never know. Dogs might be better at tracking than svenkars. Some of those hounds and pointers were bred for their noses.”

“Yes, but I don’t know how they’ll take to life in space. Or on an alien planet.”

“If they’re anything like humans,” Juanita said, “they’ll promptly find mates and start bonking like bunnies.”

Angela snorted. She couldn’t deny that.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by all this, given my horoscope for today.”

“You’ve already looked up horoscopes?” Juanita asked.

“Of course.” Angela smiled as Ben let out a floppy-eared dog, Treyjon crouched down to study it, and it promptly licked him in the nose. “Do you know how many alerts I had on my phone when we finally got back into cell range? Not only did everyone want to know where I was, but months’ worth of horoscopes popped up that I’d missed. Distressing.”

“It’s amazing you survived without knowing your fate from day to day.”

“Shocking, really.”

“What did today’s say? What could possibly explain a man from another planet coming to Earth to shop for dogs?”

Juanita extended her hand toward the two men. They now had three dogs out of the kennels, including the foxhound, Fuji. Good choice.

“Any preconceived notions about the expression of your visions will ultimately be restrictive. Adventure starts where plans end.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

Hierax sneezed as soon as they hopped down from the Falcon 8’s ramp. He wrinkled his nose as he peered at the tall grasses, pines, and junipers spreading out in all directions from the ship. Numerous things were blooming, and Indi assumed from the lushness of the grass that the monsoon season had been a drenching one.

“This doesn’t look anything like the paintings of Gaia,” Hierax said, and sneezed again.

“We’re a continent and an ocean away from the part of the world your people came from.” Indi wondered if any Native Americans had been taken by the Wanderers. She’d come across people of African and Asian descent out there, and Ku’s and Zakota’s ancestors seemed to have come from the Pacific Islands, but if any of the Star Guardians came from the Americas, she wasn’t certain of it.

“Are you sure you want to go out here?” Hierax asked. “I’ve cleaned up engineering since the battle. It’s looking quite appealing again.”

“Don’t you want to see Katie’s log cabin? And roast marshmallows around an open fire?”

Hierax sneezed.

“We don’t have to stay all night if you’re having trouble with allergies.” Indi slipped an arm around his waist. “I didn’t know you had frail sinuses.”

“What? They’re not frail. They’re simply under assault from your alien air. Also, a log cabin does not sound like the kind of place to interest an engineer. It sounds primitive.” Hierax peered at the field they were walking through. “Do your people not have roads?”

“Not out here. Your captain wanted a somewhat remote location to set down. Katie’s cabin is somewhat remote, so we thought this would work.”

“Remote.” His nose wrinkled. “And primitive.”

Indi couldn’t argue much with that. Katie’s cabin had a satellite dish and a few necessities, but Hierax wouldn’t find a workshop full of high-tech tools to play with.

“I ordered you a gift. It might be there when we arrive.” She hadn’t planned to tell him until later, but he seemed like he needed coaxing to get to the cabin.

“Oh?” His expression did perk up.

“As soon as my phone had service again, I placed the order. I think it arrives today. Tomorrow at the latest.” It had been a bemusing experience to pull up the Amazon website while the Falcon 8 was swooping out of the atmosphere to land for its meeting, mostly because nobody had hopped on the intercom to tell her that her phone had to be in airplane mode while they were in flight.

“In that case, visiting a remote, primitive cabin sounds delightful,” Hierax said.

Indi grinned as they walked.

They’d walked almost a mile before she realized she hadn’t been watching the grasses for rattlesnakes, something she always did when forced to walk in uncivilized places. She wasn’t sure if she was distracted by the handsome geek walking at her side, or if snakes simply seemed innocuous after all she’d been through, including but not limited to being kidnapped, being shot at, deciphering alien transmissions, and being fired at in space battles. The wilds of Arizona didn’t seem as dangerous as they once had.

“How much farther?” Hierax asked as they left the meadow and meandered through the pines, following a path of trampled grass.

“You’re not complaining about having to walk two miles, are you?” Indi squeezed his biceps. “I’ve seen the kind of training your captain puts you guys through.”

Life had returned to normal for the Star Guardians during the week-long trip from Dethocoles to Earth, which meant that the majority of the crew spent two hours before shift and two hours after shift in the gym. Despite his fondness for staying in engineering as often as possible, Hierax had been there, hurling weights around and wrestling with his colleagues. They hadn’t gone out of their way to pick on him, as she’d seen some of them doing when she’d first met him, perhaps because he’d been the one to adapt Wanderer technology to create the super weapons that defeated the Zi’i.

“Not the walk itself. Mostly.” He sniffed with stuffy nostrils. “But the fact that we’re doing it without mental stimulation. Do you have any riddles you haven’t shared with me yet? Math riddles.”

He hadn’t been amused when she’d given him a word riddle the week before. To be fair, it hadn’t made much sense after going through the translation chip.

“All right, but I’m running out. I’ll have to download a bunch while I’m here, to keep you satisfied.”

“I do like women who keep me satisfied.” He gave her a playful leer.

“Here goes: a sexy database programmer and her sexy boyfriend are heading off on a date, but they don’t have much money. They plan to rent a chariot to take them to their date. It goes nine miles an hour. They’ll save money by walking back at three miles an hour. How far did they ride and how far did they walk if they had to be back in eight hours?”

“How long did they stay at the place they were going?”

“They didn’t. They were either riding or walking the whole time.”

“That sounds like an awful date. You’d think such sexy people could come up with something to do at their destination.”

“Are you stalling because you don’t know the answer?”

“Of course not. They rode in the chariot for two hours to go eighteen miles and they walked back in six hours, thus using up their eight hours. And then neither of them wanted to date each other ever again.”

“What if they spent the walk back telling riddles?” Indi asked.

“Oh.” Hierax’s expression brightened. “Hm. They’d have to be harder riddles than that. I could have solved that one when I was three. You don’t even have to set up an equation.”

“So, you’re saying I didn’t satisfy you?”

“No, just that I can satisfy you more.” He rubbed his hands together, then paused. “Wait, are we talking about riddles or sex?”

“It’s your innuendo. You tell me.”

Before he could decide—he looked like he might think about it for a while—the sounds of voices drifted to them, punctuated with enthusiastic barking. Indi spotted Katie’s cabin in the distance, nestled in a copse of towering pines. A surprising number of dogs were running about, chasing squirrels up the trees.

The front yard hadn’t been mowed in months—Indi had been here before and knew the kidnapping adventure couldn’t entirely be blamed for that—but the back was nothing but dirt and pine needles, so there was plenty of room for people. Fresh wood had been stacked next to a fire pit built into an old flagstone patio, and a grill and Adirondack chairs ringed the area. A picnic table full of food and plastic dinnerware stood off to the side, an open cooler next to it full of ice, beer, and soda. Angela, Juanita, Katie, Treyjon, Orion, and Zakota were already helping themselves to the contents of the cooler.

As Indi and Hierax approached, Treyjon noticed them first and lifted a hand. Indi wasn’t sure about those dogs—did they belong to some neighbor who let them roam free?—but they didn’t pay attention to her or Hierax. They were too busy racing around the base of a tree with not one but two squirrels up it, giant squirrels with big, pointy ears. The dogs seemed to believe that if they barked loudly enough, the squirrels would fall out of the pine.

“Glad you made it,” Katie called, grabbing a couple of beers and approaching them. “There was a bet going around, and we were evenly split on it.”

“On what?” Indi asked.

“Whether you would be able to get your engineer to leave engineering to enjoy the exoticness of Earth.”

Hierax walked up to the fire pit and peered into it. “Is this how you cook? Your people are even more primitive than I realized.”

Katie plopped a cold beer into Indi’s hand. “You’re going to need that. I can tell.”

“I think we all will.” Indi looked at the label, that of some organic microbrewery she’d never heard of. “This isn’t your typical fare.” She looked toward the picnic table, noticing the fancy trays full of cut vegetables, platters of exotic meats and cheeses, and… “Is that a quiche?”

Katie made a face. “Tala gave me a shopping list. And told me where to go. I didn’t even know it was possible to spend two hundred and fifty dollars on picnic food.”

“I hope she’s reimbursing you.” Indi had been to an office barbecue with Katie at the beginning of the summer and knew she was a hot dogs and Heineken kind of gal.

“She said she would, but she hasn’t shown up yet. She better come. I deliberately didn’t buy much tubular meat because she didn’t want to feed it to her highly decorated ship commander of a lover.”

“Tubular meat?”

“Apparently, that’s how the chip translated hot dogs. Or was it tubed meat? I forget.”

“Do you have any tools?” Hierax asked, still considering the fire pit. “I could build a self-rotating spit to make the cooking more even.”

“We cook on that,” Katie said, pointing at the grill as she walked over. She made a shooing motion, as if afraid Hierax would mess up her outdoor kitchen. “The only thing you cook over the fire is marshmallows. And then you use one of these.” She plucked up a long metal fork with a handle on it. “You’re welcome to self-rotate while you cook if you wish.”

Hierax curled a lip as he eyed the fork, then shifted his gaze to Indi, giving her the most plaintive I-am-among-savages look she’d ever seen. It was a rather cute plaintive look. She vowed to take him somewhere private once it got dark and nobody was paying attention to them. To that hammock strung between two trees? Would the dogs quiet down by then? Maybe she could prevail upon Katie to offer access to the guest room, or rather the guest “loft,” as it was. Even though the last couple of months might have hardened Indi a touch, she had little interest in sleeping outside and being eaten by bugs if another option was available.

“I don’t suppose a package was waiting on your doorstep when you got here?” Indi asked Katie.

“I had a bunch of water-logged packages and a note in my mailbox telling me to come into town to pick up the mail.”

“This would have been addressed to me. And un-waterlogged.”

“Then no. What did you order?”

“A gift for Hierax. If it comes, it might be able to keep him from building things with your marshmallow forks.”

“Sorry, we don’t get same-day shipping out here. If you paid a fortune, you might get overnight.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” Indi said.

From the way Hierax was eyeing the fire pit, he’d forgotten about his promised gift, anyway.

“What did you order him?” Katie asked.

“LEGOs.”

“LEGOs?”

“A Star Wars superstar destroyer. It has over 3,000 pieces. It’s for ages sixteen and up.”

They both looked over at Hierax who was now peering at and poking at the rocks comprising the fire pit ring.

“You sure he meets that age requirement?” Katie asked.

Indi swatted her.

“There’s a dog eyeing your meat,” Juanita told Katie, waving at the picnic table.

“Those are charcuteries,” Katie said. “I know because I had to ask someone at the store what they were.”

“Fine, there’s a dog eyeing your charcuteries.”

“Where did all these dogs come from?” Indi asked.

“Apparently, they’re new members of the crew,” Orion said from the picnic table bench where he was noshing from a vegetable tray and a bag of something called cassava chips.

“Fuji,” Angela said, clapping her hands and striding over. She used her body to block the dog from the table and backed him—or her—away from the eating area.

Treyjon joined her. “Perhaps it’s time to begin training them. It looks like we have an hour or so until dark.”

“Good idea.”

Angela leaned toward the charcuterie tray and started selecting slices of salami. As the stack in her hand grew and grew, Katie’s eyes widened.

“Wait, are those for you? Or the dogs?”

“It’s important to use enticing rewards to encourage the desired behavior.”

“Oh, hell no.” Katie plucked the stack out of Angela’s hand. “That salami was twenty dollars a pound. It’s not going down a dog gullet.”

Zakota came over and peered at her hand. “It smells really good.”

He removed the stack from her palm. Orion halved it, taking a small stack for himself. The two men proceeded to wolf down the salami.

“Star Guardian gullets are better than dog gullets?” Angela arched an eyebrow.

“Well…” Katie didn’t look that certain.

“You didn’t even get them to perform a desired behavior first.”

“Should I have made them sit up and beg?”

“I would have made them clean the house,” Juanita said. “Weren’t you complaining that everything is dusty after two months away?”

Katie’s gaze grew thoughtful as she contemplated the men, the cabin, and the rest of the meat on the tray.

Indi shook her head, turning back to see what Hierax was up to. Then dropping her face into her palm.

Somehow, he’d found enough pieces of metal—she identified some of the marshmallow forks and also a tire iron—to construct not only a spit for the fire but a fancy grate for it. Now, he was working on some kind of tripod or hook to hang pots from.

“I bet he’s a blast on camping trips,” Katie said, also noticing his work.

Indi smiled fondly at him. “At least he’s fruitful.”

“He’s some kind of fruit.”

Indi grabbed a small stack of salami and took it to Hierax.

He paused in his project and looked up. “What’s that for?”

“Desired behavior.” She bent and kissed him.

He blinked a couple of times in surprise, but then smiled. “I’m very satisfied.”

“You better be.” She kissed him again.

Juanita stuck a marshmallow on the end of her long fork as Orion watched, a marshmallow and fork of his own in hand. Everyone had pulled up chairs or stumps, save for the dogs, most of which were snoozing around the yard. Darkness had fallen, a fire crackled in the pit—the flames danced under the elaborate cooking setup Hierax had created—and a few stars were visible above the towering pines.

“Do you think we can see your sun from here?” she asked.

“Not with the naked eye,” Orion said, leaning his shoulder against hers. “If memory serves, you can only see stars up to about a thousand light years away. We’re thirty thousand light years from you, Dethocoles to Gaia, that is.”

“Thirty-one thousand four hundred and thirty-three light years,” Hierax said. “Roughly.”

“Thank you, Commander Korta,” Zakota said dryly from his spot on a stump next to Katie.

Juanita wondered if they should have invited more members of the crew to their barbecue. Would the bouldery Korta have enjoyed coming? Did he eat hot dogs and salami? Or anything?

Of course, the people Katie had invited had polished off most of the food as it was.

“You do have a magnificent view from here.” Orion lifted his gaze toward the sky. “You can see so many stars, and it’s so clear, it’s almost like you can reach up and touch them. In Iolkos, our capital, you’re lucky if you can see a dozen.”

“It’s like that in Phoenix,” Angela said from the other side of the fire pit, where Treyjon lounged in a chair and she sat in his lap. “But the stars are great up here. At my parents’ farm too.”

One of the dogs lifted his head and peered into the woods. It jumped to its feet and barked. The other five dogs did the same thing. Then all six raced into the woods.

“Er, if that’s the captain,” Treyjon said, hoisting Angela from his lap and standing, “he may not be pleased by that welcome.”

“Imagine,” Indi murmured.

“What if it’s a coyote?” Juanita asked.

“A coyote wouldn’t be pleased by that greeting, either,” Angela said, peering over the back of the chair as Treyjon jogged into the night.

A light came on in the distance. Someone’s logostec, perhaps? Juanita couldn’t imagine anyone but the Star Guardians wandering in from the national forest at night.

Orion nudged her shoulder. “Are you going to include this evening in any of your stories?”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of sedate compared to everything else we’ve done. Very little drama to keep people interested.”

“If Sage gets eaten by your small furry svenkars, that’ll be dramatic.”

“Dogs,” Juanita said. “And I’m sure all he’ll have to do is croon, ‘Hey, puppies, good puppies,’ and they’ll leave him alone.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Sage croon. For which I am glad.”

The dog barking lessened, and three figures soon walked into view, Treyjon, leading his new pack, and Tala and Sagitta. The captain wore brown trousers and a pale button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was strange seeing him in anything but his uniform or combat armor.

Juanita was surprised he had come out. Picard had never fraternized with his crew, after all. She couldn’t remember an episode where they’d gone to barbecues or picnics together. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy had gone camping in Yosemite Park, but that had been in the movies, after they’d been friends for years and years.

“Glad you could make it,” Katie said, standing and waving her marshmallow stick like a beacon to guide in planes in the night.

“Did you know your dessert is on fire?” Zakota asked.

“Yeah, I like them that way.” Katie blew out her marshmallow flambé.

“I fail to see why more people aren’t using the cooking facilities I built over the fire,” Hierax said.

“We’re too heathen and primitive to master them,” Katie said.

“Ah,” Hierax said, as if this explanation made perfect sense.

He and Zakota stood up as the captain approached, their fingers twitching, as if to salute, but it seemed that wasn’t a requirement when they all wore civilian clothing and were off duty. Sagitta waved them back to their seats.

“We left some food for you, Tala,” Katie said. “And the bill is in that bag.”

An outdoor lantern sat on the picnic table, providing a view of the largely devastated food trays.

“Three carrots and two pieces of salami?” Tala asked, looking over the scant offerings.

“Those are crudités and charcuteries,” Juanita informed her.

“As requested,” Katie said.

Tala gave them all an unfriendly look.

Katie waved toward the cabin’s back door. “We weren’t sure if you were coming, so I moved the rest into the fridge. There are grilled hot dogs under some foil on the counter. I know you wanted to introduce the new love of your life to hot dogs.”

“Actually, I thought I mentioned that I didn’t want to share hot dogs with him.”

“These are grass-fed, organic hot dogs. They should meet your lofty standards.”

“Are they tubular?” Sagitta asked mildly, the first words he’d spoken.

“The stuff in those brown bottles is alcohol, Sage,” Orion said, pointing to the cooler. At least that was still well-stocked. Katie must have assumed everyone would drink at least a dozen beers. “You may need it.”

“To survive the hot dogs?”

“No, to survive a barbecue with your men.”

“What?” Zakota asked. “There’s nothing wrong with us. We’re fun. Especially now that it’s dark, and Hierax can’t build anything else.”

“Please, I can build things in the dark any time I want.”

“I didn’t know you had a night-vision implant.”

“Because of my superior intellect, I’m able to use night-vision goggles.”

Sagitta walked to the cooler and withdrew two bottles.

“I’m pleased that there haven’t been any medical emergencies requiring my attention,” Tala said as she came over to the fire and pulled up a chair.

“On the ship?” Juanita asked. “Or at our barbecue?”

“Both.”

“We’ve been monitoring the men on leave to make sure they don’t get into trouble,” Sagitta said. There weren’t any chairs left, so he dragged a stump over to rest next to Tala’s seat.

“You want my chair, sir?” Zakota stood.

“No.” Sagitta waved a hand in dismissal.

“Good. Because I decorated it for me.” Zakota lifted a string tied around the arm to reveal one of his charms dangling there. “Actually, it’s a house blessing talisman for Miss Katie.”

“She’s a lucky woman.”

“I actually do feel lucky,” Katie said, smiling.

“Because of the talisman?” Juanita asked.

“Because these are the most polite house guests I’ve ever had. Even after six beers a piece, the men are still throwing their plates and bottles away instead of leaving them lying everywhere. Earthlings are rarely that responsible.”

“You get a lot of extra pushups in Star Guardian training if you leave any garbage lying around,” Sagitta said, his eyes glinting with approval.

Juanita had a feeling he gave his men extra pushups outside of training, too, if they did any such thing.

“Thank you for letting me know Mindy is all right,” Tala told her.

“No problem.” Juanita waved her phone, delighted to be able to text people again.

Apparently worried that her guests weren’t feeding themselves, Katie headed into the house and returned with plates piled high with quiche, hot dogs, rolls, and vegetables. She handed them to Tala and Sagitta.

“Are the rolls also organic and grass fed?” Angela asked. She hadn’t had quite as many beers as the men, but she was much smaller, and appeared tipsy.

“Rolls are grass,” Juanita said. “Well, wheat is.”

“So, that’s a no?”

“Unless the wheat is cannibalistic.”

Tala nudged Sagitta. “See what kind of witty conversation you would have missed if you’d stayed aboard the ship?”

“Hey,” Juanita said, “it’s not right that you diss us before you’ve had at least four beers.”

The others nodded amiably, though nobody appeared overly worried about “dissing.” The Star Guardians all seemed to be laid-back drunks rather than belligerent ones.

Sagitta handed one of his beer bottles to Tala, then considered his. “Is there a tool for removing the lid?”

“Real men bite it off with their teeth,” Juanita said, “and spit the cap into the fire pit.”

Tala gave her another unfriendly look.

“That’s how we’ve all been doing it,” Orion said, his lips quirking as he tamped down a smirk and slipped the bottle opener from his armrest down under his leg to hide it.

Sagitta probed the cap with his finger while eyeing his brother suspiciously. “I don’t believe for a moment that Hierax did something so barbaric. If there’s not a tool for removing this cap, he would have made one.”

“Nah, I was busy making the spit and grate,” Hierax said. He was slumped so far back in his chair that he looked like he might slide out and onto the patio at any moment. “These people cook outside with fire. Extremely primitive. Is there any hope for them to join the Confederation?”

“Why wouldn’t there be?” Orion asked. “They let Zakota’s people in.”

“Hey.” Zakota glared at him. Maybe belligerence would happen, after all.

“Only because we didn’t have anybody who could make chair talismans,” Hierax said.

“I can’t believe you’re teasing me, Chief,” Zakota said, “when you got a woman, thanks to the talisman I made you. The talisman you didn’t even want to take, I’ll remind you. I happened to throw the women-luring charm in with the blessed hands talisman in a two-for-one deal.”

“Clearly the reason I won Indi’s heart.” Hierax reached over and patted her arm.

“Divine intervention is the only explanation that makes sense to me,” Treyjon rumbled from behind Angela. He hadn’t reclaimed his chair. Two of his new furry friends sat beside him, probably hoping he would toss those last two pieces of salami out to interested parties.

Sagitta lifted his beer bottle to the side of his mouth, locked the edge of the cap between his canine teeth, and bit it off. He removed it from his mouth and sniffed the beverage.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Tala said.

“It sounded like a Gaian rite of passage.”

“It’s a dumbass rite of passage.”

Zakota chortled, then clasped his hand over his mouth to stop himself when Sagitta looked at him.

“Is she allowed to call you names, sir?” Hierax asked, perhaps saving Zakota from a glare.

“When we’re out of uniform,” Sagitta said.

“She doesn’t have a uniform.”

“She will soon.” Sagitta gave Tala a wolfish smile.

Juanita was sure he looked forward to officially having Tala as the head of his sickbay, but she suspected he wouldn’t mind getting her back by ordering her around. How well that would work, Juanita didn’t know. She hadn’t seen Tala take crap from anyone.

“Does that mean you’re staying aboard the Falcon?” Angela asked. “Permanently?”

“After I visit my mother and let her know, yes.” Tala smiled faintly. “That should be an interesting conversation.”

Juanita sympathized, as she hadn’t figured out how she would tell her parents about Orion and the Star Guardians yet. So far, all she’d done was call to say she was alive and she would explain everything when she visited the next day.

Sagitta looked at her. Actually, he looked around the fire at all of the women.

“You’re all also welcome to come back aboard my ship. I can take you to Dethocoles, if you want to start from there and see more of the galaxy, or you can train as Star Guardians.”

Orion sat up straight and grabbed Juanita’s arm.

Juanita met his eyes and grinned, knowing this meant they could train on the ship together, then turned to accept a high-five from Angela. She’d already been training as Treyjon’s assistant, but this would make it official.

“That’s good of you, Sage,” Orion said, squeezing Juanita’s arm. “Who would have thought you’d ever mellow this much? You haven’t even had a beer yet.”

Sagitta flipped the cap into the fire.

“You’re cleaning out my fire pit in the morning,” Katie told him, but leaned over and clinked her bottle to his.

“I don’t think these Gaians respect your reputation for supremacy, sir,” Hierax said.

“Indeed.” Sagitta took a swig from his bottle, and his eyes gleamed as he added, “Savages.”

Tala shoved him in the shoulder. Hard. Had he been a slighter man, he might have pitched off his stump, but he braced himself and didn’t budge. Until he gave her a speculative look, stood up, and swooped her out of her chair with one arm. Tala squawked an undignified protest. He sat down in the chair she’d unwillingly vacated while depositing her in his lap. All without spilling a drop of beer. Maybe he was a real man.

“I can’t believe you’re calling us savages,” Tala said over her shoulder, though she didn’t appear that put out to have been manhandled as she settled back against his chest. “That was brutish. Next you’ll be thumping me over the head and dragging me back to your cave by my hair.”

“My ready room, perhaps.”

A beep came from Juanita’s pocket. It had been so long since she’d gotten text messages or other alerts that she almost didn’t know what it was. But muscle memory kicked in—or just brain memory, she supposed—and she dipped her hand in to pull out her phone.

An email alert had popped up. She would have ignored it, but she recognized the name as one of the literary agents she’d queried about Kings of the Galactic Frontier. She’d done that before getting desperate and submitting directly to the handful of publishers who accepted unsolicited submissions.

Curious, she showed the screen to Orion, though he wouldn’t know the significance, and thumbed open the email.

“What is it?” he murmured, leaning close.

“A literary agent,” Juanita said, her heart skipping a myriad of beats as she skimmed the email. “Interested in representing me. She remembered me from my earlier submission, and then—oh, I didn’t know the news had publicized the list of women kidnapped. I didn’t know they’d connected the dots on the kidnapping at all.” She glanced at Sagitta, but her eyes were pulled back to the email, as if by magnets. “Oh my gosh. She wants me to write a book about my experiences. And about the Star Guardians.”

“That should be easy,” Orion said. “You’ve started a bunch of stories.”

“She wants the truth, not stories, but the truth is un-boring.”

“So glad to be un-boring,” Hierax murmured, his eyes at half-mast.

“He doesn’t get called that often,” Zakota said.

“This is great,” Juanita said, barely hearing them. “I can write the memoir, or whatever she wants, and that’ll open the door to all kinds of opportunities. And with the news talking about wormholes and space gates and Star Guardians, people will be dying to get their hands on books about them. If we can be first to market, this will be amazing.”

“Good. I look forward to hearing the stories you tell.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You should write her back first thing in the morning.”

“Morning?” Juanita gave him a blank look and started typing a response.

“Or now,” he said.

“I can’t delay. This is huge. I bet she could sell the film rights too. You should all think about what actors you want playing you in the blockbuster summer movie.”

“I’m not sure my chip translated that correctly,” Sagitta said.

“Some things just don’t translate,” Tala told him. “Like tubular meat.”

“Forsooth.”

Juanita spent a couple of seconds trying to decide if he had intentionally used a word that would translate into something quirky and archaic, but then she forgot about it. She was too busy writing her literary agent. She had an agent. Hot damn.