Page 18 of Nova Academy

There were many thoughts swirling around my brain, but the one that stood out to me the most waswhat the fuck?Seriously, what the actual fuck had I gotten myself into? I was stuck on a ship with a guy I’d grown up hating, my captain couldn’t even remember to put on pants, the CWO I was assigned to work under was clumsy, scatter-brained and had no sense of boundaries or propriety, and my team leader was a sheltered virgin that blushed at everything except talking about sex. Which apparently was somethingIblushed over.

Oh, and there was some evil plot that included torturous experiments on live subjects that was not only illegal but had caught the attention of military personnel. And not in a good way.

To add insult to injury, the bane of my existence had somehow managed to earn a damn promotion. Tarren Christianson was in charge of his very own team, and that was a horrifying concept. If he managed to earn himself any more promotions and end up with authority over even more cadets, I may as well just throw myself into the air lock and let myself get sucked out in the vacuum of space.

But back to a more recent discovery… How a man around my own age could not only never have had sex but not understand his own sexuality was mind-blowing. I simply could not wrap my head around it. I understood that people figured things out in their own ways and on their own timelines, but this didn’t feel right. I had yet to witness Arty’s reactions to women, though he didn’t have much of one towards the CWO who was an undeniably attractive woman. Even more so when she was standing still versus scrambling to get out of the piles of junk she somehow ended up constantly buried beneath.

Arty’s reaction to men was a sure indicator that he was gay, but somehow either didn’t know it or was suppressing all of his sexual tendencies because of how he was raised.

Which was where my concern came in. Not only for him but because from the tiny morsel of information he had imparted it sounded as if he was raised in a cult. Those had always been actively eradicated by the IU. They did manage to pop up here and there before being promptly squashed, and we’d hear about it in the news on occasion, but it was so rare now. I wondered if it was worth reporting to the captain, just in case.

I resolved to ask him more about it before I took any action, though. I didn’t want to shine a spotlight on someone’s family and homelife without due cause, and if I could present more concrete evidence of the goings on within Arty’s past it would make things easier for everyone involved.

On the other hand, going behind my team leader’s back didn’t sit right with me, and that raised the question of the morality. If I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong and caused problems for someone who was supposed to be able to trust me, I couldn’t come back from that. It would completely destroy the incrementally small amount of trust we had begun to build as a teamanddestroy any good standing I had as a team player.

But beyond self-preservation, was it really necessary to dig deeper into his past? I was concerned that a traumatic upbringing would have some negative side-effects, but I had yet to witness anything more than his reservation. He’d tell me what he wanted to, if and when he wanted to. I shouldn’t pry. Yet I’d always been a curious creature by nature, and my desire to learn more about the unusual man would undoubtedly win out over everything else. It always did.

When my thoughts gave way to my surroundings, I realised that Arty had finished eating before everyone else, which seemedto be common theme with him, and was waiting by the door while he messed the holo-tab.

‘We should hurry,’ I told the others, tilting my chin in Arty’s direction as explanation.

‘Stars. That man scarfs down food like it’s gonna disappear on him or something,’ Bromm whined, though it wasn’t entirely clear if it was a true complaint or more of a harried observation.

Foryk was the first to finish. The oversized man practically inhaled his breakfast to catch up with Arty. I was quick to follow, and Bromm didn’t even manage to finish his meal before we were dragging him to dump his tray. He was full on pouting when we met up with Arty, who scowled at us.

‘You should have let him finish his food,’ he chastised. ‘He’ll need the strength.’

With that parting barb he turned and walked out, pressing the button to summon the elevator at the end of the hall. We climbed in, and I was pleased to have the space to ourselves for once. Foryk lumbered inside, frowning at Arty as if he could protect the offended prince from his insults with only the ferocity of his glare. Bromm was back to pouting, poking at his soft belly as if its lack of visible muscle definition determined the level of his strength.

Truthfully, I believed Arty didn’t mean anything by it other than bluntly keeping those he was responsible for in the best health. This was the military, after all, and that included an abundance of physical labour, which required a significant amount of fuel. I would have to clear that up with the other two away from Arty’s range of hearing. I didn’t want him to feel like he had done something wrong. He was just a blunt guy, and that was honestly pretty refreshing. There wasn’t any dilly-dallying or beating around the bush when it came to him, which was a breath of fresh air compared to the slicing and backhanded remarks I was used to.

‘We’ve been summoned to deck two again. CWO Brin requestedour team specifically to assist her with organising the storeroom until we rotate to classes,’ he informed us.

We didn’t bother waiting for the CWO to show up and escort us to the storeroom like she had the day before. We knew where we were going, so we went straight there. Arty knocked on the door before placing his hand on the scanner. It flashed white, then the door slid open. Luckily, he had already braced himself for the worst, because as soon as there was a large enough opening junk tumbled out as if a massive pile of it had been propped against the door. Why someone would block the only exit tothatroom off all rooms, I would never understand, but CWO Brin’s brain certainly could never be considered ‘normal’.

What did knock the tall, lean man off his feet, however, was the blur of pink that ran at him full speed with a high-pitched squeal.

‘Thank the stars, you’re finally here!’ CWO Brin screeched from her position on top of a prone Arty.

He grunted and groaned when Brin dug her bony limbs into different parts of his body as she attempted to removed herself from the position. Her expression momentarily changed when her hand lay flat against his chest, but it reverted back to her giddiness as if nothing had happened

Eventually, Foryk leaned over and literally picked her up and set her on her feet, and I leaned over to offer my hand to the winded man still left on the floor. He took it with a grateful smile, and I heaved him up, but there was something odd about it. When I touched him, I expected his skin to be rough and calloused. I couldn’t put my finger on why I didn’t believe him to have hands that suggested a life of labour, but they were silky soft and smooth. More like an aristocratic woman’s hands than a military man’s.

I supposed his experiences here would reshape them, reform them into something thick, cracked, and coarse.

It was a sad thought, to lose that softness. Whomever he ended up discovering his sexuality with was a lucky man, but I wonderedwhat it would feel like to have those hands running over me.

Woah… That thought totally came out of nowhere and blindsided me. I was not interested in men sexually. Never had been, and though the idea wasn’t entirely repulsive since I was in no way homophobic, it had never appealed to me in the slightest. Even now, the thought of stripping him naked to uncover a flat chest and an appendage between his legs was a total turn off.

But if he was a woman?

I studied his features as he turned sideways to squeeze through a small gap between piles, careful not to touch anything for fear of causing another avalanche. The only way to describe him was… delicate. Small, upturned nose. Full pink lips. A dotting of freckles over his nose and cheekbones. The way his brown hair flopped in front of his face, and then the way he tucked it behind his ear. The heart-shaped face that ended in a point at his chin, reminiscent of my Yu’Rom mother’s delicately feminine features. But there was nothing that screamed ‘Yu’Rom’ to me beyond that. He was very clearly Terran, most likely a pureblood like most of the people I had grown up with.

Like Tarren.

Even his name was a derivative of ‘Terran’. The whole community disgusted me with their purist ideals and blatant shunning and mistreatment of anythingother. But Arty wasn’t like them, I reminded myself. He was blunt and direct, sure, but not cruel. I had seen nothing that suggested he was in any way bigoted or a bully.

My mother would adore him.

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