"Now where did I take my boots off last night?" Harper muttered as he searched the floor for an errant lace poking out from beneath something. The clock ticked on, drawing ever closer to departure time, unaware of the plight of a single man in want of a boot.
Forget his boot, where had he stashed his brain? Normally, he put his boots by the door. Or his desk. Or the bed. Better if there were an emergency at night, but somehow he'd lost them, and though he looked, he didn't see. The details blurred together like a watercolor painting in the rain and keeping track of one train of thought was impossible with so many crowding in and demanding attention with the insistence of a toddler who'd spotted candy.
He had remembered pants, right? Wouldn't be the first time he'd forgotten, but he was never going to get halfway to Command in his boxers again—once was more than enough. He looked down just to be sure. When he looked up he caught a glimpse of Trance and some of the wind leaked from his sails. Unlike the rest of the world, she was in laser focus and patently unamused with a thin-lipped look that reminded him of his mother when she'd asked for the fifth time if he'd folded his laundry and put it away.
Whoops.
He swallowed and looked away because avoidance was always the best policy when a woman got that looks on her face. Definitely. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Wasn't really a surprise she was grumpy. Last night, as he'd packed for their week-long shore leave he'd been a hot mess and not altogether concerned with cleanliness. Clothes, all of them his, lay abandoned on the floor in nest-like piles and draped over the furniture like strange fabric necklaces. He'd promised to clean it up, but then gotten absorbed in his plans for today, mostly ignoring her until she'd fallen into a fitful sleep alone. In retrospect, this entire situation could have been avoided.
Too late now. He kicked a crumpled pair of khakis out of the way, but his boots weren't under them. Trance huffed behind him.
"They're under your desk. Honestly, if you just put things away where they belonged you wouldn't lose something every morning."
Oh boy. Two years ago he'd gotten it in his head to make cider from the talon apples they grew on Seefra 4. Even without Andromeda's databases, he'd remembered the recipe he used to make hard cider when life was better. Home brew was a way of life on Earth. What he hadn't accounted for was the increased sugar in talon apples compared to plain old Terran apples. The barrel had exploded in a semi-alcoholic, sticky mess. He had a sudden premonition that this situation was about to go the same way. In other words, not well. And if that happened, he might as well flush all his grand plans down the toilet for all the good they'd do him.
Damage control—fast. Time to suck up the Harper pride and apologize before they fought. Be the man his mama raised him to be no matter how hard it was to take the first step towards the bed with her sitting there so prickly and watching him so closely. But he did it because this was important with a capital 'I'.
"I'm sorry," he said and sat down beside her, the mattress giving way under his weight. "I promised I'd clean it up and I didn't,"
Not that he was the only one to blame in this situation. She was cranky. Had been off and on for a few weeks now— and so had he. Her nightmares were keeping them both up and when she did sleep well, they were called to yet another attack or slave raid. Life on broken sleep was hard for both of them, but harder on her. The change in her mood wasn't enough to worry the others, but it got them sniping at each other a couple of times a week.
"It's fine." Her pout said otherwise. She'd woken twice last night and tossed and turned the rest of the time. The dark circles she'd hidden behind makeup, but up close her lids drooped and there were creases beneath her eyes. A recipe for domestic strife if ever there was one. He really didn't want to do this today of all days when he had so much planned.
"Can we skip bickering because both of us are too stubborn to say we're tired and grumpy and go straight to you telling me what's actually bothering you?" He asked, then sighed heavily. "I know I did wrong, but if my messes were that big a deal, we wouldn't be six months into this relationship. You had years of warning."
She laughed the tiniest of laughs and attempted to smile, even if it only got halfway there. "You put your dirty laundry on my bunk the second day I was on the Maru."
"Beka was always riding my ass about it." He reached over and grabbed her hand and she didn't object. Her shoulders softened so that she wasn't sitting as straight backed as a headmistress anymore. "Is it the nightmares?"
"The more we fight the Nietzscheans, the worse they get. We're at war, even if the Commonwealth refuses to admit it and I guess it bothers me that I don't know what to do to help." Her sigh added a million more silent words to the conversation. He wondered why she still carried the weight of the whole damn universe on those comparatively tiny shoulders without sharing the burden. "I'm used to having the answers, but instead I'm filled with this impending sense of doom that keeps getting worse every attack because I just can't see. It's so frustrating."
"Babe, you already saved the Commonwealth and three galaxies full of people. It's not your job anymore." He pulled her to him. It still amazed him how much strength was contained in such a bitty frame. Like his mom. All of it condensed down into raw power in order to fit. "That's the anxiety talking. Any luck finding new meds to try?"
She shook her head. "Rommie's working hard, but my brain chemistry is different than other human-like species and obviously the sleeping meds are not working as well anymore, either. I wish I knew why it was affecting me so much. None of this is new and I could process it in the past."
Emotions were sticky and unpredictable and usually he didn't have a clue how to handle them, but this time, something clicked.
"You had two brains back then," he said. "Like Rommie. She can process a lot on her own, but feed too much information into her and she needs to send some of it to Andromeda to work through without burning up her systems. As I'm painfully aware, our squishy little organic brains misfire when there is too much stress. Some of us get angry and some of us—"
"Get anxious." She studied him, gaze moving over his face, as if she saw something new there instead of the same mug she woke up to every morning and kissed every night—with the exception of last night. Every time she did this it made him squirm, but he tried to stay still. "I'd never thought of it like that before, that I had help processing trauma. I guess even when I can forget for a moment that I am only half myself, it still affects me."
"Hey," he said gently and kissed her forehead, "no more talk like that. You aren't a half a person, you never were. You're a full, beautiful, and intelligent woman, even without your sun. You still have all your memories and everything that made you, you. It's just that you're traveling the road alone now. Your sun and you weren't the same person any more that you and Sol are the same person."
Damn, he needed to write this stuff down. Where had it come from? Whatever possessed him now made a lot of good points. Maybe it was that wisdom Rev Bem always thought he'd develop as he aged. Stranger things had happened, especially on this ship.
She curled into him, buried his nose in her hair, and took a deep breath as he pulled her closer. Sunshine and spring. How he wished he could blow the clouds that blocked her light away forever. She deserved to shine.
"Thank you," she said, voice muffled by his chest.
"It's what I'm here for." He placed a kiss on top of her head and pulled away. "Maybe I can take your mind off it a bit today, but first we need to get over to the new shipyard for this homecoming ceremony Dylan and Rommie are so excited about. So, my boots are under the desk?"
"Yeah, they're under there, but hidden by all your other junk."
"How do you always know where my things are?" They were right where she said they were, all he had to do was shift a box of parts out of the way and pull a gaudy Hawaiian shirt off.
Trance laughed. "Lucky guesses. Or I'm just better at keeping track of things than you are. Probably a bit of both."
He slipped his boots on and turned to her, offering an arm. "Ready to get this show on the road?"
"Yeah." She walked over and linked her arm with his. Maybe everything would turn out alright after all.
"That's it?" Harper demanded in a whisper so his voice didn't carry. At least he had toned himself down. "We had to dress up all nice and get here promptly at 0900 so that you could scan your thumbprint and they could do a glorified photo shoot? Where's the pomp and circumstance the Commonwealth's insisted on everywhere else? The Andromeda Ascendant has made Tarn Vedra her home port again after three hundred years. Seems like Rommie deserves a little bit more of a celebration."
Dylan sighed as Harper's voice rose with his excitement level, hands gesticulating wildly.
"There's breakfast. Don't forget breakfast," he replied in an effort to diffuse his engineer before he went full exuberant. Harper had a head full of steam and big plans for the day; there'd be no stopping him once he got started.
Truth was, Dylan agreed. It didn't feel like enough. This, the culmination of his journey, Tarn Vedra's triumphant return to the Known Worlds and Andromeda's homecoming was commemorated with only photograph of his crew on the planet's shiny new shipyard with the Captain of the yard, Acting Governor of Tarn Vedra, and a single Triumvir. His heart wanted more fanfare—he'd dreamed of this moment since the day Beka pulled him out of the singularity and it was a little anti-climactic.
It wasn't at all how he'd imagined it. The Vedrans remained hidden and Tarn Vedra was a shadow of the world she'd once been, but Trance and an army of exobiologists, botanists, and other scientists worked hard every day to accelerate her recovery. But six years ago it had seemed impossible they'd make it this far. Hope. Tenacity. Plain old stubbornness. Whatever had compelled him and his crew, it seemed like there should be a bit more recognition.
He had a theory. There were a lot of closed-doors meetings these days on the senate floor, some he was privy to, others that excluded him and all members of the military, press, and public. New worlds reluctantly pulled out of negotiations as it became obvious that those interested in joining the Commonwealth became targets for Nietzschean slave raids. Allies grumbled about skirmishes on their borders with not enough ships to help them. Whispers of war and resource shortages. Six months ago there'd been hop. It had turned to unrest and malaise as, he could only suspect, the Lambent Kith tugged on their invisible webs, sending their vibrations across the Known Galaxies.
"Yeah, yeah. Breakfast," Harper muttered. Trance whispered something in his ear and he nodded, then followed Beka and the others out the door while Trance lingered behind until they were alone. The new station was made up of clean lines, white walls, and chrome accents. Where the main conference gallery on Andromeda was designed to be a comfortable meeting place with warm colors, gentle lighting, and lots of greenery, this one was almost utilitarian. They didn't expect people to sit in here and make tough decisions or linger over dinner. The difference between a ship meant for people to live, and a shipyard where people worked and hopped back down to the surface when their shift was through.
He appreciated the one bit of color in the room, a wall sized portrait of the Tarn Vedra he grew up on. Blue and green, marbled with white clouds. There was a storm over the northern hemisphere when this image was captured, the eye of it over a resort city his father had loved.
Trance studied it now, her back to him, shoulders not as straight as usual. She seemed tired lately—easily frustrated. Over the last few weeks there'd been more than one awkward moment on Command with Trance and Harper working next too each other in stony silence. While Harper could be frustrating, he suspected Trance's change in mood was the underlying problem. She could hide the dark circles, but couldn't hide the way she held herself or the way her eyes drifted shut in the moments she thought no one was watching.
With all the pressure his crew was under, it was a miracle no one had snapped yet. Wartime regulations afforded front-line crews additional shore leave, access to well-trained psychologists, and multiple other policies and procedures meant to reduce the damage of a life lived under constant stress. But they weren't at war. Not officially.
"It's a beautiful image," he said, breaking the silence a moment before it became awkward.
"It is, but I don't think they got her best side." When she turned, she was smiling, and he too smiled at the joke. Trance took a step towards him and looked up to meet his eyes. Hers were warm, as always.
"Are you okay?"
That surprised him. "What do you mean?"
"You're going home," she clarified, "but it isn't the same, caught between the Tarn Vedra you left behind and the Seefra we spent the entirety of last year trying to escape. It has to be weird."
Strange to have the object of his concern turn around and worry about him. She knew him well. Images of Tarn Vedra as he'd known it had come unbidden all morning. Lush, beautiful, and alive. A center for both culture, arts, and nature. Home of the species who'd conquered three galaxies and forced peace on them, then sanded their spear back into an olive branch to rule democratically for over a thousand years. The legacy of this broken world…
He remembered himself as a child eating lunch in his mother's gardens, dancer flies with long wings and teal bodies buzzing around and cotton ball clouds above. The last Empress Day parade he watched with thousands of people cheering the floats seemed like it could have been months ago. Mixed into those memories, were the images of Trance, Sol and the other children. Of Avera, too. The four of them together on a vast, open plain of greenish-blue grasses and wildflowers at the start of an ancient ceremony. Another day, Avera's four oldest kids tossing sparkling white rocks into a tranquil stream to see who could make a bigger splash.
Three Tarn Vedras. Three different lives. Each vivid and real. His childhood home, but also the place he'd fallen in love billions of years before his birth, and where he'd brought his makeshift family back together three hundred years after his supposed death.
He sighed and put his hands on her shoulders. "I've seen this world change so much. I've watched the Vedrans grow from an agrarian culture to the rulers of the Known Worlds and watched them disappear from the society they created. I've seen Tarn Vedra's past, present, and at least one possible future." He sighed, surprised at the peace in his heart at the moment of his homecoming. "I'm just glad to be back and to see everyone working so hard to make her as beautiful as she once was."
Trance nodded, resolute. "Me too."
"We should make our way to breakfast," he said and motioned towards the door.
"Are you sure it is alright for us to spend the week here?" She asked after she took one last, almost longing, look at the poster before falling into step beside him.
"You need the break," he said, stating a simple fact. There was more to it, though. When Harper had told him his surprise was ready and requested the time off it had come as a relief. They were ready to start mass production on the voltarium enhanced force lances and it had always been his plan to find somewhere else for Trance to be when he picked up the shipment. That Harper wouldn't be with him was even better. It bothered him, sometimes, that the only thing the woman he helped raise and the man she loved couldn't reconcile between themselves was done on his orders. They both deserved peace and happiness together—had earned it. Being captain sucked sometimes. "And, Harper's been planning this for a long time. I wouldn't dream of getting in the way."
"You know," she accused. Her brow lifted and her eyes flashed playfully when he didn't answer right away. "You do. You know what he's planned."
Small groups of uniformed officers passed by as they moved down the hall, nodding and saluting. The smile that stretched across his face felt wonderful. At first, this relationship had concerned him on a number of levels. Now he was proud of the level of thoughtfulness and care Harper showed when Trance was involved and how hard he worked to be the kind of man she needed him to be. And how Trance stayed positive and kept going even the times it was obvious she was struggling with her organic body and the constraints of a mortal life.
Love was an amazing emotion. It brought out different things in different people—sometimes bad but most of the time good. It'd grounded Harper and matured him. It'd given Trance enough light to guide her way through the darkness.
"I know, but I won't tell." They reached the door to the officer galley. "Now let's get some breakfast because Harper has reminded me that you are on a strict schedule and I have a few things I want to take care of before the Lange's barbecue tonight."
It was cold outside and the breeze made it colder. Trance was dressed for the weather—Harper had told her that much, at least. The rest, down to the tiniest detail, he'd kept wrapped up so tightly inside that his secrets had become a power core that infused him with a sort of distracted, nervous energy.
Even covered from head to toe, the crisp hair bit her cheeks and nose. There were waves nearby and a hint of salt on her tongue when she breathed in.
As she stepped from the landing pad, blind from a soft cloth tied over her eyes, Harper took one gloved hand awkwardly in his and pressed his other into the small of her back, providing extra support. Gravel and dried grass cracked beneath her boots. The morning air smelled crisp, green, and damp.
"It's a bit of a walk. Do you trust me?" he asked.
"You know I do."
"You probably shouldn't, crazy woman. But I'll take it. Right this way, darlin'." As if she had much of a choice but to follow blinded as she was.
The ground was uneven, their path uphill, and the underbrush snagged at her thermal leggings. Something changed in the air as they walked. Sleepiness gave way to wakefulness. Leaves rustled and birds tweeted. Small animals dashed away on skittering paws. All the while, Harper's footsteps remained steady beside hers. Like the morning of the ceremony on Rindra all those months ago.
"We should be there right on time. You're gonna love it."
On time for what? On Rindra, she'd feared what awaited her at the end of their climb. Here, it was hard not to share in Harper's excitement. The hairs on her arms to stood up straight and her heart took on a new rhythm.
The ground leveled out and they stopped after a few minutes of walking in silence. The waves roared now and the breeze rose up from below. Vertigo struck. They were on the edge of a cliff and for a moment she imagined falling off the edge of the world.
Harper wrapped his arm tightly around her waist. "Ready?"
When he removed the blindfold, she gasped. Before her, the sun rose over a shimmering ocean—a glorious ball of fire that transformed the water into gold. This morning, he'd given her the sunrise, and it was the most beautiful thing in the Universe.
For a time, she stood in silence and took it in. Tracked her sun as it inched its way out of the ocean and into the clear blue sky. Its beauty stole her breath away and filled her heart to the brim. It was as if, for this time, they'd become one again.
"It's more beautiful because it's a part of you," Harper said, voice filled with the awe she felt. "This isn't even the real surprise."
Real surprise. It didn't process at first. Like the Maru's computers when she forgot they weren't as robust as Andromeda's and asked too much of them, she stalled. Got stuck with her mouth open, blinking in confusion.
"There's more?" she managed after two false starts.
"We're just getting started."
Harper was always one for grand gestures and theatrics, yet it surprised her to be his sole audience.
"Take a look around," he continued, "I couldn't get you out here before the snow melted, but…"
His voice faded into the background as she followed directions. Ripping her eyes from the horizon, she turned in a slow methodical way that gave her time to commit every detail to memory.
To her right was the path they'd come up, the base of it hidden by the sort of old growth forest that only existed in a few lucky places on Tarn Vedra anymore. Behind her, the plateau overlooked a vast plane, muddy and brown with bright-green shoots of spring grass poking through. Painted against the sky was the familiar outline of a mountain range.
Her heart slowed and skipped a beat. It couldn't be… She continued her exploration. To the left the ghost of a temple rose, then faded away with a blink, stone ruins left in its place.
"The observatory," she whispered and didn't say anymore, because if she tried, her voice would crack.
"Dylan helped me find it. We've filled out the paperwork to preserve it as a place of historical interest. Your name is in the conservator field, if you want it. We're just waiting on you to submit."
"You… you said you were bonding," she said for something to say.
"We were. Bonding over our mutual love of one Trance Gemini. Still kinda weirded out that he's sort of your step-dad, but I think I'm getting used to it."
"You aren't the only one. The memories simultaneously change everything and nothing at the same time."
He grabbed her hands and held them tight. His body practically quivered with excitement and his eyes resembled the ocean the way they sparkled.
"Before you give an answer on the observatory, there's one more thing."
Darkness had surrounded her for so long now that she'd forgotten the euphoria of moments like these. Like intoxication—a rush of blood and energy. It took every ounce of self control to keep her body still. Everything around had grown more vibrant and more beautiful.
"How can there be anything more?" She shook her head, her smile as wide as it could go. "You have done so much already. You don't have to prove your love to me, I see it every day, even on the bad days and I love you, nothing's going to change that."
"I know," he said, face morphing to something more serious, as if he'd found grounding for all that energy. He squeezed her hands tighter. "You deserve all of this, and so much more. So much that's out of my ability to give you."
Before she could respond, he dropped on of her hands and pulled her towards the path they'd come up. It was a rough trail of dirt with brambles and weeds half covering it. In the summer, those brambles produced a hot-pink berry so sour it had to be dipped in sugar or sweet nectar to eat. Amazing how tiny swaths of land, mostly near large bodies of water, remained as they were three-hundred years ago. This forest used to stretch much further and had been far more dense but it'd survived, timeless and beautiful.
The trip down went faster than the trip up and he stopped her right before the old growth thinned out. Harper was spring loaded and ready to pop with his face pale and cheeks flushed, like when they'd pulled off heists on the Maru and he was tapped into the security system waiting for a reaction.
"What is it?" She raised her eyebrows and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She looked around for a clue, but only saw the trees and undergrowth around her. "Are you going to show me?"
Harper took a breath deep, shoulders rising and falling. He seemed to come to a decision and continued their trip. As the trees thinned out she caught a glimpse of the sunlight reflecting off their drop pod. Behind it there was something more that she couldn't quite make out. A building where there shouldn't have been anything. Harper sped them up and when they stepped into a clearing she stopped and blinked. Her mouth fell open.
A white house with a picket fence stood in the clearing. A clear path sloped down towards the ocean. It was a simple, modern structure all clean and efficient lines. A rooftop porch overlooked the beach cliffs nearby. The forest surrounded an ample, cleared-out back yard with a greenhouse on one end and what she suspected was a workshop on the other.
"I know you were pissed at me for not keeping things clean, and you're absolutely right, I'm horrible, but I promise I'll set up housekeeping bots so you don't have to clean up after me all the time—"
"Seamus—" she tried to butt in, but he kept going, barely pausing for breath.
"And this is actually the guest house. The main house will have a better view of everything. I just thought we could work on that one together. But I made sure there was plenty of space for you to garden when we have shore leave, and it's close to the ocean so I can go surfing. I thought that we should have a home—that you should have a home— so I used my land allotment the Commonwealth gave us for bringing Tarn Vedra back—if you want it." He finally took a breath and there was so much hope and worry in his eyes.
"Seamus, it's wonderful," she said, and kissed him, because there were no words for the way her heart overflowed with love.
Extended families didn't exist in the ghetto. Not really. When Ollie was a small child just learning how to force her will on the Universe there'd been a handful of aunts and uncles around. They'd lived together, as families often did but one by one those people had disappeared from her life until finally Jace and his mother were taken away, leaving only four where once there'd been many. People here spoke of grandmothers and grandfathers. First and second cousins—once, twice, three times removed. Some Seefran families were large enough they practically needed a compound to live in. One family a couple neighborhoods over lived in four homes on the same street. They had loud, bustling get-togethers, and while she tried to be grateful for what she had—because it was more than she ever imagined she'd get out of life—watching them left her longing for what she'd missed out on.
Tonight, around a bonfire that reached its fiery tendrils into a dark sky where the moon and stars played hide and seek with fluffy-white cumulus clouds, she imagined this was what it felt like to be a part of one of those families. There was laughter and noise and the warm fuzziness of sweet cider brought from Harper's bar in her stomach. Tables of food. Buckets of ice and drinks. Twelve people in light jackets and scarves enjoying a cool early autumn night together, shouting their stories across the fire. These weren't her aunts, uncles, and cousins, but somehow she'd begun to think of them as her family. A strange mix. Two Androids, whatever Trance was, and even a Nietzschean. Beka who hated planets but came to visit anyway and Harper who'd given her a job in his bar because she wanted to make a few extra guilders. Orlund too, her first best friend, who had Jace's full undivided attention while he recited one of his fantastical fairytales, face and hands acting out the story.
"When can we come visit?" Jake asked Trance nearby.
"The Sabra Jaguar have brought another four prides to the table," Rhade explained to her father.
"Should have seen her face!" Harper exclaimed. Snippets of their lives. Wonderful lives, and it amazed her how they all intersected, as if the Universe was a giant web, and this meeting of threads added something to the pattern. Like there was meaning in it all.
On New Burke she'd felt so small. Here, she felt like she was a part of something big. As big as the whole Universe. Or maybe the cider was just making her philosophical. She should really try to act her age. Let loose and be a teenager—whatever that meant.
Dad pulled up beside her at a table overburdened with an incredible assortment of homegrown and hydroponics grown fruit and vegetable dishes, breads from the local bakery with seeds embedded in the golden crust and snack chips in shiny packages taken from the storeroom at Harper's bar. So much food, so little room in her stomach.
"You ready?" he asked and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into the embrace and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Yeah. Are you?"
"I'll never be ready, but this isn't about me. All parents have to watch their kids grow up and I don't think it's easy for any of us, no matter what we've gone through." He kissed her head. "You were never meant for a quiet life, we always knew it."
And now tears wanted to fall and Dad had an empty beer bottle and spoon in his hand. She managed to blink them away and swallow her overgrown heart back down by the time he clanked the two together, a sound like a bell ringing across the backyard. Everyone turned to look and she forced a smile, suddenly self conscious. She shouldn't be. These people had seen her on what turned out to be, simultaneously, one of the worst and best days of her life. They cared and there wouldn't be any judgment.
"Today is a day for big news," Dad said with a nod at Trance and Harper, once he had everyone's attention. The fire crackled in the silence that followed while she stood there awkwardly with everyone staring at her before she realized Dad wanted her to follow. Mom stepped up to her other side, smiled, and squeezed her hand.
"Um… I got in! I leave in two months." she said finally. No need to use pretty words or fancy it up. No need to say anything more.
Smiles all around. Harper whooped, throwing his fist into the air. She hadn't told the boys yet, only Mom and Dad. They rushed at her now, looking like twins, and crashed against her, squeezing with all the power their pre-teen bodies could muster—enough to take her breath away. She met Orlund's eyes, lit by the fire. His face shone. From the moment she'd met him he'd believed in her like no one ever had. Had written her into his fantasy world as some sort of gallant knight. It was all too much. But in a good way. She squatted down until she could meet the boys' eyes with a perfect plan to get everyone's attention off her.
"Do you think it's time?" she asked with a surreptitious look up at her dad.
"Yes!" Jace said.
"I'll go get it." Jake took off towards the house.
She looked to her dad. "Let's go back by the fire. We have something for you."
There were rounds of congratulations as they rejoined the group. Rhade gave her a firm pat on the shoulder and she never once thought she'd be so happy to have the approval of a Nietzschean. Doyle and Beka hugged her while Rommie offered a hand to shake and Ollie got the impression she didn't much care for hugs.
Trance took both her hands. "You'll have to tell me all about it tomorrow when we go to look at the seed banks in the tunnels. I want to know everything."
"Soon, you'll be up in the stars," Orlund said as she sat down beside him, wonder in his eyes. They were alike in so many ways. Both doomed to hard, lonely lives before the Andromeda flew to the rescue. Both dreaming of something bigger. His dream had become a reality, and now it was time to hunt down hers.
"And I get to see Xinti. It's a super quick hop from there to Infinity Atol." How amazing all of this was. "Maybe you can come visit me."
He smiled brightly. "I would like that. This is my home, but I always dreamed of traveling the slipstream to see other worlds. The Vedrans are out there somewhere. It's my biggest desire to meet one and to see the Empress."
The excitement died down some as everyone settled in around the fire. A strange family, true, but her family.
Jake came back around toting a box over half his size. A hush fell over the group as Jake handed it off to Dad who studied it, a question in his eyes. Mom came around and stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her chin on his head. She knew, of course.
"All of us kids worked to get this for you," Ollie explained, "You don't keep anything for yourself and you work so hard. We wanted you to have something nice. You deserve it."
There was a time when she thought she'd always be small to him. When the revolution failed and she defied him to remain in the resistance, something cracked between them. When Jake was taken, it shattered completely. Their relationship was in pieces and they hastily picked them up and carried to this new world. Day by day they'd fit them back together. The gears had begun to turn again, but it wasn't the same. They existed in this place where she was just out of his reach and he struggled to pull her back in.
The way he looked at her now… Something had shifted. Balanced out and she thought the gears might start moving more easily now, though things would never be the same again. His face was grave as he ran a hand over the gift box, then pulled off the lid. Inside, was a black leather case with a curved bottom that narrowed into a thin neck. Golden latches held it shut and in golden script was written 'Garrin Lange'. Ollie's heart pounded as she took in ever moment of this. The fire flashed in her father's eyes eyes, now moist with unshed tears.
"Open it!" Jake said.
"Yeah, look what's inside," Jace added causing both parents to smile.
Dad popped both the latches at the same time and opened the case. His mouth fell open and he caressed the item inside before he pulled it out. The fiddle was made of a lightweight redwood from the third planet in the Kellan system and was lined with golden filigree along the edges and up the neck.
"You had to leave yours behind. I know this isn't the fiddle that belonged to great grandpa, but we thought there should be music again," Ollie explained. She and the boys had saved up for months. They'd done odd jobs, sold the vegetables and flowers Jake grew—with a little friendly advice from Trance—in his own little garden plot. The boys had started their own hover pod washing business and it excited them to no end get a glimpse into the lives of the rich. She'd asked Harper for work to fund this. It was handmade by one of the best luthiers in the Tri-Galaxies. It wasn't the best model, and it was expensive, but it it was worth every table she'd cleaned and every late night spent fixing broken odds and ends for a handful of coins. The music was the only thing they missed from New Burke. It had gotten them through long, frozen nights and brightened birthdays and holidays when there wasn't enough money for food, much less presents.
A few tears slipped down Dad's cheeks. He picked up the bow and gave it a test pull across the strings. The note sang out into the night sky and hung there, reverberating off the stars and it was one of the most beautiful sounds. From the case, he pulled the tuner they'd made sure to buy as well.
"I don't know what to say. This is…"
Ollie smiled at the boys, and then her mom and dad. "You don't have to say anything, just play. We've been waiting months to hear you play."
As he tuned, the others began to whisper. The gift had affected everyone, it seemed. Then, from his jacket, Harper pulled out the beat-up penny whistle he'd told her about when she explained why she wanted the job so badly. Trance's mouth fell open and her eyes grew even wider, then a huge smile stretched across her face.
"You're full of surprises today."
Harper shrugged as if it were no big deal, but his eyes said something completely different. "Ollie told me they were going to give it to him tonight, so I thought I'd bring my whistle too."
When the violin was tuned, Dad began to play a rousing tune they used to dance to as children. An old song that had purportedly come from Earth and survived a couple thousand years called the 'Honeymoon Reel'. Maybe that was true, because after a few moments, Harper jumped in, the shrill notes of his flute blending easily with the thrum of the fiddle as if he'd known the song all along.
Ollie tapped her foot in time. The boys sat enraptured. Trance was the first to rise, reaching out a hand to Jake who'd been her shadow most of the night.
Orlund leaned in to Ollie. "What are we supposed to do now?"
She threw back her head and laughed. "Normally we dance. See, Trance knows. Beka too."
Beka stood and reached out a hand to Rhade, who didn't look thrilled at the prospect, but stood anyway. Soon, Dylan was up too, dancing with Doyle while Rommie watched the entire thing with an eyebrow raised.
"Come on, Orlund. Didn't you dance down in the tunnels?" she asked. He shook his head.
"Well, then, I guess you're going to learn." She stood and held out her hand to him and he took it, bowing like a prince in a fairytale.
On New Burke they'd had to dance in the basement. Here, they did it under the open sky, trading partners and laughing at each misstep. The instruments played happy tunes and mournful tunes. Her mother sang when she knew the words. This was love. This was freedom. This was home.
The music still crowded his mind. The sound of the Garrin's fiddle blending with his penny whistle and the sweetness of Maria's voice. She'd sung a few lines and they'd improvised until it sounded right. Fire still warmed his cheeks though it had been at least a half an hour since they'd bid their crewmates and the Lange family goodbye. The flight had been silent, with Trance's head resting sleepily on his shoulder. He could still see her dancing with Beka with the bonfire behind them, her head flung back smile as bright as the stars above. Objectively the most beautiful woman in the entire Universe.
And now they were home. Not back to Andromeda, but the home he'd built for them. A permanent piece of land that belonged to him—to them both. Gravity and dirt, and the ocean only steps away. The bar still connected him to this land, but this made Tarn Vedra his new homeworld. Earth could never be replaced in his heart, but Tarn Vedra was an extension of Trance. She'd breathed life into it and nurtured it. How could he not love it? It could never be Earth, but it could be home.
It would be home.
The door clicked shut behind them and he brought the lights up to 50%. They cast a warm glow into the living room. The environmental controls hummed as they worked to keep room warm and waves crashed outside their window. He could soundproof the place on command, but had chosen not to tonight, preferring the music of the surf to silence. Even the state-of-the art filtration system couldn't remove the lingerings hints of new lumber and carpeting in the air.
Though it was a simple pre-fabricated home like the Lange's and one day they'd have a large house of their design, he hadn't been frugal with furnishing, filling his home with the sorts of luxuries he'd been denied growing up and during his time impoverished on Seefra. Luxuries he felt Trance deserved in her home. The walls were painted in earth tones, and the furniture made of imported lumber. Expensive pieces that would last a lifetime. It needed art, but he'd been less confident about decorating without Trance's input. Only one piece hung on the wall, a silk wall-hanging with "Welcome" hand-embroidered in the center and a border of colorful wildflowers. Maria had told him every home needed a welcome sign when she pressed it into his hand.
"Welcome home," he said, pulling Trance into his arms after they'd kicked their shoes and socks off at the door. The carpet was soft beneath his bare feet.
Instead of answering, she kissed him. It wasn't often he could read her emotions the way she could read his, but there was a deliberate nature to her kiss and he recognized the gratitude beyond words. Pure feeling and his heart swelled with it as he returned the kiss, tightening his arms around her waist. The walls melted away.
Her kisses were sweet, each one beckoning another so he sought her lips again every time she pulled away for a breath. Her hands came up to cup his face, holding it close to hers. Smoke from the bonfire lingered on her hair and skin. He breathed it in, imagining a hundred more summer nights with her swaying in his arms to the thrumming of a fiddle with fire in her hair and eyes. A being of burning energy, even now that she was as mortal as him.
The feel of her body pressed against his, the way the heat radiated between them, never got old. Night after night, day after day, he held her and it was always new. Always the best thing ever. He dug his fingers into the muscles in her back to pull her closer and traced the shape of her lips with his tongue. She sighed against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair. On the flight home she'd almost fallen asleep, but she was awake now and ready to dance some more, as if the music had become a part of her too.
He'd just about resigned himself to making love to her right there in the living room, because God did he want her, when she nipped at his lip and twisted gracefully out of his grip, a playful glint in her eye and laughter in her smile. She backed towards the bedroom, pulling her dress over her head and tossing it at him. He stood in place and watched her, a lopsided and starstruck smile pulling at his lips.
Trance waited expectantly in her skintight camisole and leggings. The light in the hallway cast a halo around her. He crossed the room and took her in his arms again. They were an awkward tangle of lips and too many legs as they navigated through the hall, past the guest room and the guest bathroom to the master suite. He tugged at her camisole, abandoning it halfway down the hall. Her bra came off in the doorway to the bedroom.
If he'd thought this through bit better he would have had candles and maybe some rose petals on the bed. Made it nice and romantic. But he hadn't, having given all his brain power over to building a house without her finding out. Hadn't planned much beyond the reveal. She didn't seem to care or notice as they crashed onto a cloud-like down comforter and a half a dozen large pillows. He hadn't spared any expense on the bedding, either. Had created the bed he'd always wished he had. Still wasn't sure there were enough pillows, but it didn't matter right now. What mattered was that she'd pinned him down, her hair brushing his face and neck, her fingers slipping under his shirt. Mischief sparked in her eyes and her fingers danced along his sides, lingering at every ticklish spot until he squirmed beneath her and she laughed out loud, the sound of it filling the room.
He freed his arms and grabbed her about the waist, then used his strength to flip them both so that he was staring down at her from above. Her hair splayed out on the pillows—a rose-gold crown for a sparkling goddess.
She laughed some more, enjoying this game. Trance always enjoyed games. He kissed the side of her mouth and then beneath her ear, and moved down to her neck, biting the tender skin there. She stretched her neck to give him more access and he took another moment to take in the warm smell of her: the floral shampoo she washed her hair in every night; sweat and dust from a long day; fire. Earthy and sweet. Enough to get drunk off of.
When they'd first made love she'd been skin and bones and sharp angles. Not so, anymore. Months of hard work had sculpted her muscles and time had built up her curves again. It had happened so slowly that he hadn't realized it until this moment as he felt her muscles ripple beneath his hands as he helped her to her knees. She'd grown stronger.
They'd grown stronger.
"I should give you a house more often," he murmured, as they made quick work of the rest of their clothing, pausing for more kisses and more caresses. There were never enough. His shirt came off first, then his pants. "Buy houses all over the Universe. A giant fancy bed in each of them."
"With pillows?" She picked one up and tossed it at him, the laughter sparkling in her eyes. He let it drop to the side of the bed then pulled at her leggings.
"All of the pillows. Maybe an entire bed made up of nothing but pillows." He spoke against her mouth, then pushed her back down onto the pile of them, ready to see this through to the end.
After, Trance settled against him. Face flushed and eyes half open, sleepy again. "I think the pillows were a good idea," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's comfortable."
Like her. Like this. Everything so damned comfortable. So damned normal. As if her naked body was meant to fit beside his and his home was always going to be hers. It was written in the stars.
A thought that had been coming to him more and more frequently rose to the surface. A thought he'd meant to share with her this morning, but had decided against and pushed to the side. Now it filled his mind. Persistent. His heart hammered and he knew she must be able to hear it as she rested against him. He willed it to slow down, for his brain to give him a moment to think, but it didn't work. She lifted her head to look in his eyes, hers narrowed with a small frown forming on her lips.
"What wrong?"
His mouth ran away before his brain could catch up. "I want to share my pillows with you forever."
A giggle rose through the surface. She tilted her head to the side, smiling, but confused. "I mean, if you want to, I won't complain."
How was it he always bungled these things up? He sat up and took her hands into his, helping her to sit as well. He thought that when he did this, it would be a grand, romantic affair. At the very least they wouldn't be naked with sweat drying on their skin. But he'd done grand and romantic this morning and it hadn't felt right. The intimacy of this moment did.
"No," he said, squeezing her hands. The words tumbled out in a rush. "That came out all wrong. Trance, I want everything I have to be yours, too. I want to file our taxes together every year know that if anything ever happened to me that you would be taken care of. I want to marry you and call you my wife. I want to make sure that wherever you call home, I can call home too."
A million thoughts raced through his mind in the beat after he'd spoken. He'd never once thought to ask her what she thought of the human institute of marriage. Had assumed that she knew he was interested in it one day. What if she said no? Even though she'd said earlier that she wanted to live with him she might balk at the idea of making it a legally binding union.
He let go of her hands for a moment and grabbed his pants where they dangled off the edge of the bed. From the pocket he pulled out a small box. He'd carried it with him in his pocket since he was thirteen-years-old. The box had been replaced over the years, but the item inside was irreplaceable. Today he'd give it away to the only person he'd ever felt worthy of protecting it.
He opened it and held it out. "Will you marry me? Please."
She reached out and pulled the ring from the box, handling it as if she instinctively understood how precious it was. Two hands of black gold clasped a heart of shimmering amethyst with a black gold crown atop it.
Words fell from him again. An explanation to fill the silence. "It was my mother's engagement and wedding ring. It's an Irish claddagh and has been in my family since before the Nietzscheans took Earth. I couldn't bury it with her so I promised to give it to the right woman." His hands shook is he took it from her and his breath remained stuck in his chest.
"Will you?" he asked again because she was watching him with a storm of unreadable emotions in those huge brown eyes.
A smile pulled at her lips and she nodded so softly it was almost imperceptible. "Of course I will."
The ring was a little too big, but not so much that she couldn't wear it. He could fix that later. After he'd slipped it on her finger she kissed him. "Of course I will," she said again, her voice barely a whisper.
