Soren and Tamiyo walked into the team’s common room after spending a couple hours meditating on one of the upper observation spires. They were a week into a 13 day journey to their next mission. The notes on the data core had taken Tamiyo and Soren just over 20 hours of continuous work to decipher and sort out. They had found research notes on a multitude of subjects The Professor had worked on, including some notes that Soren recognized as foundational elements of what he eventually did to Lulu.

  The information beneficial to Nox was far from complete. The Professor had begun planning for the Graviton Engine on Philos, but had soon left. There was mention of another planet in the notes, however, one that Soren at least recognized. Piria had been one of the planets being looked at for terraforming back in the 2080s. Although he’d never gone himself, he did know The Professor had some sort of complex there.

  Brolgar stood near the galley counter waiting to dish up those who hadn’t eaten yet. He had prepared a thick stew that filled the room with the comforting scent of roasted herbs and simmered broth. A tray of bread sat on the warmer beside him, cut into wedges and glistening with melted butter. He ladled up two bowls and cordially handed one to Tamiyo, but he refused to look at Soren as he slid another bowl onto the counter. Soren just took it, nodded without a word, and took a deep whiff of the food. Hearty vegetables, leafy greens, and hunks of slow-simmered meat swimming in a spiced broth—it smelled like it could beat even the worst cold into submission.

  He and Tamiyo crossed the room to one of the low tables in the far corner. After dipping a wedge of bread and taking a bite, Tamiyo let out a loud, “Whew! The smell alone will clear your sinuses. Tastes delicious, though.”

  Soren chuckled, but it faded fast.

  Tamiyo caught his mood and glanced toward Brolgar, who had gone back to wiping down the galley counter. “He’s not going to say anything tonight. But I think he appreciates that you haven’t been trying to force a conversation.”

  The few times Brolgar would speak to him, his voice wasn’t hostile, just heavy. Enough time had passed that the silence no longer felt charged with what had happened. It was tired and worn, like a callus after 40 years of hard labor.

  “Do you think he hates me?” Soren asked quietly. I wouldn’t blame him.

  “He’s still hurting,” she corrected. “That’s not the same thing.”

  Soren just looked down at the bowl in his lap.

  Brana walked in, hair damp and face free of engine grease for once. She casually grabbed a bowl of food and joined them at their table. After slurping a large mouthful of food, she nearly breathed fire. “Got dayum Brolgar, how many fuckin’ peppers you put in this thing?”

  “Enough,” he grunted.

  She just grinned and kept eating. She chatted with Soren and Tamiyo a little, but tonight she seemed more interested in watching what was on the screen, just like everyone else in the room.

  Veolo was playing a role-playing game with a good storyline, Soren had been able to catch most of what had happened so far. It was about a guy trying to save a world he didn’t belong to and the shared connections he made along the way. The other night there had been a bombshell revelation when they found out that the main character was actually a dream, so when they finished their heroic quest, he would end up disappearing.

  Veolo lay sprawled on the floor as she played, and most of the team was gathered around her in the large couch and floor space. They all lounged half on top of each other, another of their cultural markers that had initially caught Soren off-guard. After a couple months of seeing them relax multiple times per week like this, he’d grown used to it. That, and he’d realized he was looking at them from a purely human lens. When he took a step back, he saw that the way they relaxed together was reminiscent of a pride of lionesses, which, given the ferocity of the warrior women, felt appropriate.

  Currently, Aurania was sitting on the couch, her chin resting in one palm. Violet sat on the floor in front of her getting an absent-minded shoulder rub from Aurania’s other hand. Riza sat to Aurania’s left, casually petting Amalia’s head in her lap. Raine and Inelius were there too, cuddling on the floor. They all just sat and watched the game, a shared space where they could all unwind.

  Brana finished eating and got up to go flop onto Amalia. While not actually lacravida herself, she’d lived amongst them long enough to adopt much of their culture. During a slightly dryer segment of the game, Veolo kept her eyes on the screen but asked, “Hey Soren, why do you and Tamiyo never come over and lounge with us?”

  Tamiyo tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you always sit over there,” Veolo made a vague gesture toward their corner. “It’s like you think we smell or something.”

  Tamiyo let out a quiet laugh. “You don’t smell.”

  Soren felt a flicker of discomfort, not because she was wrong, but because she was right. He watched the tangled sprawl of limbs and realized that, now that Veolo was asking, he found the idea of joining extremely appealing. There was something magnetic about the comfort they found in each other, the way the lacravida seemed to exist in layers of physical closeness without apology.

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  It looked peaceful.

  But to him, it still felt… off-limits. Even though his brain told him that none of his human expectations applied here, his instincts hadn’t caught up yet.

  Tamiyo replied first. “It’s just… we’re used to it meaning something else. Physical closeness in human culture usually comes with, like… romantic or sexual undertones.”

  “Yeah,” Soren added quietly. “It’s not really something friends do. Not unless they’re… y’know, more than that.”

  “That sounds lonely,” Amalia said sadly.

  Violet flatly noted, “Raine and Inelius are over here.”

  That hit Soren somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t feel pressured, he felt excluded—but he was the one excluding himself. Raine was curled into the cocoon of her boyfriend’s four arms, both of them close and comfortable to everyone else.

  “Right,” Soren muttered.

  “It’s not about sex,” Violet shrugged. “It’s about trust. About feeling safe and unwinding together.”

  “That sounds… really nice, actually.” Tamiyo’s voice was quieter than before, an almost hurt tone hanging underneath her words. She longed to go over, just like he did. They both sat rooted in their own damned past while the group’s shared gravity tried pulling them into orbit.

  He didn’t know if he was ready.

  But a part of him wanted to try.

  The door slid open again and Elias quietly stepped in. As he passed the couch, he reached out and touched Riza’s shoulder. She glanced up and gave him the tiniest smile. For the first time that Soren had ever witnessed, Elias actually leaned over and pecked a simple kiss onto her forehead, despite being in front of everyone.

  Then he made his way to Brolgar, grabbed a bowl of stew with a brief grunt of acknowledgement from the chef, and headed over to join Soren and Tamiyo.

  “How you holding up?” he asked.

  Soren set his empty bowl aside. “Well enough. Brolgar seems to be having an angry day with me, though.”

  Elias gave a sympathetic shrug and he blew on his stew. “Ah, he’ll come around eventually. Just keep giving him time.”

  Soren nodded, though he wasn’t sure he believed it.

  Elias took a bite, chewed once, then said, “Oh yeah, saw Admiral Marrow down in the pavilion. He’s looking for Aura.”

  “Shit.” Her head whipped toward them. “Hide me.”

  Soren blinked twice. “Hide you?”

  “Yes.” She stood up so fast that Violet was flung forward. “He keeps trying to ask me out and I’m running out of excuses. When he doesn’t find me in the pavilion, he’ll come here next. Hide me!”

  Everyone scrambled like they were executing a practiced drill. Within seconds, she was lying long-ways on the couch while they all adjusted to obscure her from view. Riza, Amalia, and Violet all sat on the back of the couch, their legs draped over top of Aurania. Inelius and Raine scooted over to help conceal her legs. Brana, Elias, and Veolo all sat on the floor to conceal her head and torso, but there were still some gaps.

  “Boss, you’re too damn big,” Riza sighed. “I think he still might see you down there.”

  “We need more cover,” Violet said.

  Aurania’s head popped up from behind the armrest. She was looking right at him. “You two, get over here.”

  Tamiyo hesitated just a second, then ran over and tucked herself in front of Violet. Soren froze, caught between logic and instinct.

  Aurania’s muffled voice rose from beneath the pile. “Get over here. That’s an order.”

  He sighed, stood, and walked toward the couch. A few bodies shifted to make room and someone tugged him down by the arm. He awkwardly settled into place, his head and shoulders helping conceal Aurania’s mid-section. He felt the warmth of it.

  The gravity.

  The door opened.

  Admiral Marrow stepped in, one eyebrow raised. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything…” He eyed the ten bodies crammed over a secret eleventh. “Has anyone seen Matron Aurania around?”

  The pile answered all at once—conflicting excuses, scattered alibis, someone mumbled something about her being in the shower. “She said she was headed to the pavilion,” Inelius blurted, trying to sound authoritative.

  Marrow stared back with a furrowed brow like stone. “I just came from there.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Maybe the other pavilion?” Amalia offered, unconvincingly.

  Marrow lingered, looking at them like a man trying to solve a riddle he wasn’t quite sure existed. Then he sighed. “Alright. Please let her know I was looking for her.”

  He turned and left.

  No one moved.

  “Why does he keep calling you Matron?” Soren asked. “I thought that was a spiritual title.”

  “It is,” Aurania spat in annoyance. “He’s just an idiot that knows nothing about us.”

  The group shuffled a little. Limbs adjusted, people resettled into the comfort of each other’s warmth and the glow of the game on the screen. Soren cautiously scooted down a little and let his head lean back against Aurania’s belly. He felt her react through the mental link, but she made no move to stop him.

  He smiled to himself.

  Tamiyo glanced over at the only team member not caught in the mess. “C’mon, Brolgar. There’s room.”

  “I’m fine where I am,” he grunted unconvincingly.

  A few minutes passed.

  Violet asked for another slice of bread. Brolgar brought it over, and as he leaned in, Aurania's hand shot out from beneath the pile. She yanked him down.

  He let out a startled noise but didn’t resist for long. After a brief, wiggling complaint, he just sighed and made himself comfortable. Amalia wrapped her arms around him, and no one made comment of how adorable the squat man looked, held by the bubbly woman over two feet taller than him.

  “This game’s alright,” he muttered. “I like the music.”

  Someone snorted. Someone else murmured agreement. And the room eased, like a slow exhale. They didn’t talk much after that.

  They just kept watching the story draw them in.