Page 33 of Starlight, Starbright
We walk to medical in silence. The corridors are full of Christmas Eve celebration, civilians laughing and hanging the last decorations. None of them know how close we've cometo losing everything. None of them need to know. They've done their part. Built their lights. Saved themselves through community and hope.
Now we've saved them through competence and partnership.
The medical bay is empty except for the automated scanners. I step into the radiation detector, let it run its analysis. Clean. Acceptable exposure levels. Nothing dangerous.
Zoric's scan comes back the same.
We stand in the sterile medical bay, and suddenly everything that has been pushed aside by crisis comes flooding back. The way he looked at me in the core. The fact that we've nearly died and I've spent those moments thinking that if I have to die, at least it is beside him.
“Paige?” He says my name like a question.
I close the distance between us. One step. Two. Until I stand close enough to see the individual silver traces along his temples. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“I'm tired of almost dying without telling you things.” The words come out shakier than I intend. “Tired of pretending this is just professional. Tired of...”
He kisses me.
Not the gentle, testing kiss I might expect. This is desperate. Hungry. His hands frame my face and his mouth finds mine and everything else disappears except the heat of him, the taste of him.
I grab his uniform, pulling him closer, pouring weeks of tension and fear and wanting into the kiss. His hands move to my waist, my back, sliding under my jacket. Everywhere he touches burns.
“Your quarters,” I manage between kisses. “Not here. Not where anyone...”
“Yes.” He pulls back just far enough to see my face. “My quarters.”
We make it exactly four steps into the corridor before his comm unit beeps. He groans, presses his forehead to mine briefly, then activates it. “Zoric.”
“Captain.” Tanaka's voice carries relief. “Just confirming you've secured the situation. Walsh is in the brig. The cascade program is terminated. We're clear.”
“Confirmed. Excellent work, Commander.” He pauses. “I'm off duty for the rest of the evening. Unless the ship is actively exploding, do not contact me.”
A pause. Then Tanaka's amused voice: “Understood, sir. Have a good evening.”
He closes the comm and looks at me. “Where are we?”
“Heading to your quarters.” I take his hand. “Quickly.”
We walk through the. ship holding hands, and I see heads turn. See crew members notice. See some smile, some frown, some look uncomfortable. I don't care. Let them see. Let them talk. Let them know that their chief engineer chooses this alien captain and will choose him again given another thousand chances.
His quarters are dark when we enter, lit only by the stars visible through the viewport and the lit corridors of the habitation rings visible through their viewport windows, thousands of warm glows against the dark. Light from the hab ring windows paints colored patterns across his walls, across his face.
The door closes behind us. Locks.
We stand there for three seconds. Five. Looking at each other in the dim light while my heart tries to break free of my ribs.
“I don't know how to do this,” he says quietly. “My people don't... we've spent a thousand years suppressing this. Connection. Vulnerability. I don't have...”
I kiss him. Softer this time. Letting it communicate what I can't say in words. That I don't need him to know. That we'll figure it out together. That wanting is enough.
His hands find my waist again, pulling me flush against him. The heat of his body through our uniforms makes me gasp. He is so warm. Impossibly warm. Like standing too close to a sun.
“Your temperature,” I manage. “Is it always...”
“Yes.” His mouth moves to my throat. “Does it bother you?”
“God no.” I arch into the kiss. “It's perfect.”
We move toward his sleeping platform without breaking contact. My jacket hits the floor. His uniform shirt follows. I get my first clear look at his chest, at the way the markings trace patterns down his throat, across his collarbones, disappearing below his waistband.
