Near an hour passed in each other's company, strolling throughout the Coriander in the most circuitous path possible. Both marveled at the signs of Cory's passage, egregious holes blown through walls right next to fully functional doors, terminals torn out of walls and used to beat pirates half to death. The victims themselves, being roused from their stunned state and their wounds treated, almost to a one thanked Mach and Vari as they desperately apologized. Only a scant few cursed and hissed, and they were quickly subdued and bound by their former compatriots.

  While they walked they chatted, the conversation wandering wherever it wished, though most happened to involve shared descriptions of their homeworlds and families. Vari had a fascination with the concept of cats, and more than a little interest in the culinary values of cows. In turn she described a fascinating jungle world of countless vast rivers teeming with delicious fish and the eternal song of life that filled it. She was an easy and eager conversationalist, both able to fill the gaps with interesting details and the occasional offcolor joke that caught Mach off guard and sent him in laughing fits that had her looking exceedingly pleased. As they swung by Mach's original cabin to recover his celery sticks, to which Vari strongly refused an offer to try even as she watched him eat them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, an inbound ping caused Mach to pause. Cory, still in his imposingly wolfish and massive power armor, joined them for a span and was lavished with praise about his ferocity, which sent the mechanical tail wagging happily. Still he departed after a few minutes, intent on returning to the Winnerbagel to relax.

  How much she enjoyed Mach's company he could not tell for certain, but the bright lavender shot through with consistent pulses of gold, as well as that she clung stubbornly to his arm, implied she wasn't displeased with him at his usual. That was a bittersweet thing to him; Perhaps there could have been something real between them had they not been fated to meet and then part so soon. Mach felt the urge to dwell on that, to become faintly morose, and shoved it down. Instead he told Vari about Precipero, about the constant pounding rain of searing bleach, and about the drab utilitarian architecture of the squatting Stations above the eternally raging waves. That earned a look of horror from her.

  “That sounds utterly horrific.” Was her remark, flashes of emerald crawling over the lines covering her body.

  “It's not... Well, it is actually that bad. Still, most of the residents there are humans and we can live nearly anywhere, more out of a stubborn refusal to give up and be defeated than anything else. We have covered spaces that don't get too wet for children to play sports in, theaters showing an endless variety of shows of every genre, countless restaurants and cafes selling every food under any sun, dance halls that never close.” Mach blushed faintly, took a little breath, and continued. “If you ever happen to find yourself there, and I'm not off making a delivery, I'd love to show you its good parts. Also, we can take a submarine out for a sea tour; The underwater world is incredibly beautiful, an infinite variety of life and color and brilliant lights from the deep. The natives are reclusive but friendly enough, and they don't mind surface dwellers poking around marveling at their works.”

  Vari squeezed his arm tighter, her eyes fixed on his and the gold almost overwhelming lavender. “I would like that.”

  Their tour continued its comfortable route, the discussion never ending, and along their way they recovered Vari's retinue; An entire crew of ten, most with lightly colored hair but a few with matching black. Chief among them was a pair of silver haired identical twins, two tallish women of a striking dancer's beauty which would drive a man to his knees, though both still paled in comparison to Vari. Both were willowy and delicate seeming, rather than Vari's more athletic, almost boyish build, yet still had a predatory litheness that implied they were no less deadly. The twins were a good bit more blessed on the chest front however, not just in that they had anything to look at whatsoever, and Mach had to fight off the urge to stare as they smoothly paced around him. Their lines were emerald for the longest moment, Dryn's warning that such was a sign of danger heavy in his mind, but then they evened out to red and assumed a protective position behind Mach. The fierce glare Vari fixed the both with helped with that, Mach felt. His mind idly compared the two, and a brief frown crossed his face; The twins, and most of the crew when he thought about it, had a simple pattern of psycholuminous traces on their bellies Vari didn't. Perhaps that was a racial difference? Actually, that there weren't any men in the crew was also an odd detail that stuck out, but that made enough sense to Mach; Better to have a Princess' escort all be capable members of the same gender. And they definitely seemed capable, particularly those twins. Vari was safe under their watch, of that he had no doubt. Not that she needed any additional protection; Mach would remember her fight, and delight in retelling it to others. The details about her hips he would keep to himself, however.

  All too soon, because the time spent with her wasn't measured in weeks or months, they reached the hangar bay; The Winnerbagel rested on deck silently, a little banged and scraped up, but no less his beloved ugly little brick of a ship. A mental command activated it, the external lights coming online and the interior lights visible through the loading ramp rising from rest mode to full brightness. His helmet was still on the floor beside it, but Mach was in no rush to put that back on. Vari, meanwhile, contemplated his vessel in focused silence.

  “It's not much to look at, but she's my pride and joy. The Winnerbagel never lets me down.”

  “It has its charms.” Vari admitted with a faint tilt of her head, though that may just have been to rest it against his shoulder. Her hand rose to point at the sleek, almost predatory red and gold star-yacht that also stood fully intact in the otherwise cluttered hanger.

  “That's the Symphony, my ship. I won't describe it as anything less than the best our Autocracy can produce, because it is. Would you... like to see inside?”

  “Yes.” Mach answered automatically, then an internal alarm sounded; The spare time his aggressive routing had shaved off the ultra-priority delivery had been consumed in this little adventure. A pained sigh escaped him. “But I genuinely can't. My duties demand I complete this delivery on time, and I keep the promises I make without fail.”

  Vari's face fell at that, though no green showed through. Instead she just held his arm in silence. In his Neuralink Dryn pinged.

  “The security systems have been upgraded to the best of my abilities and full control has been ceded to Vari d-T'zFon. My arrival is imminent.”

  “Thanks, Dryn. We gotta roll as soon as you return, clock's running out.”

  A thumbs-up image of a Xarlozch handible showed, which was a rather uncomfortable thing to have burning in his brain. Mach archived the logs and closed the chat, all of his mind fully his own again. The woman on his arm reluctantly parted then shifted to stand before him, looking up at him earnestly.

  “You have done a wonderful thing today, and I would wish to reward you for it. Is there anything you desire? There is little I cannot grant.”

  Mach paused at that question, his mouth opening and closing as all sorts of things raced through his thoughts. Finally he settled on what he wanted most. “Make it home safe and sound, Vari. That's all I can ask for.”

  Maybe that was the wrong answer; Her lines flared brilliant emerald and the song of her voice was harsh and challenging. “You led an insurrection, alone, against a crew of slavers, rescued the third heir of the T'zFon hegemony, defeated the captain with a single blow, and entertained royalty for an hour, and you dare ask for nothing?”

  “I...” Mach let the fear wash through him, taking a calming breath before continuing. “I don't need to be rewarded just for doing the right thing.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Blade!” The barked command was harsh and accompanied by the alien woman holding out her hand to her twin guards; In response one drew a simple but lethal stiletto from her belt and passed it into Vari's waiting hand. Mach hadn't expected getting stabbed to be how this ended, but he also knew he couldn't stop her. Instead he stood firm.

  Instead of plunging the knife into the gaps of his armor Vari pulled the ribbon binding her hair free, letting wavy black locks fall loose around her waist, then easily tied the ribbon tight around the last six inches of a forelock despite holding a knife in one hand. A quick slash of the razor sharp blade severed the lock, and an offhanded toss sent the knife bouncing to the feet of her guard, and she held out the lock of severed hair to Mach. He wasn't entirely sure if this was a gift or a Fonic way of declaring a blood feud, but courtesy had him take it carefully. This done, the glow of her psycholuminance shifted suddenly, becoming pure gold.

  Claws grasped both sides of his head once more, sending a twinge of pain through the scraped scalp from earlier, and again she forced his head down; This time it was their lips that met, her kiss aggressive but gentle with lips half parted, held for what seemed like an eternity. He tasted the coolness of trace amounts of menthol in his mouth, which was a little odd but not at all unpleasant. Finally she pulled away, face lit with golden light and fully dilated pupils locked on his. Mach had, he realized, been entirely passive through the entire event, too shocked to react; The advice his father gave him ran through his mind, that if a girl was in the mood for kissing then it was a boy's obligation to indulge her.

  Mach's arms wrapped around Vari's waist and pulled her close, tight but not crushing, and this time he initiated. As their lips met again he felt her arms wrap around his neck in response, locking him in. Neither resisted the moment, and only parted to join again in a series of briefer pecks. Finally the embrace began to slack, each only reluctantly withdrawing for the other, and Mach was so flushed he was pretty sure his face was neon. It had been a long time since he had kissed someone, and the girl hadn't been nearly as radiantly beautiful. They stood, close together but not touching, for longer still. The clock in Mach's mind, however, kept ticking down.

  “This is an unexpected outcome, but perhaps not an unfortunate one.” The lilting voice remarked dryly, and Mach's eyes jerked away from Vari's to land on Dryn. Despite the enclosing vacsuit the Xarlozch was clearly amused, his handibles gesticulating subtly as he shifted from side to side on his six legs. Mach's blush practically exploded, which was still a more understated response than Vari's.

  The woman spun, her lines shifting from gold to azure in an instant, then as she sighted the insectile engineer down to royal purple. Her guards, their gaze finally releasing Mach from its blue and silver lined grip, spun to lock on the big alien. As one all three dropped to one knee, their heads dropping low in a sign of what was most likely utmost respect.

  “Vari d-T'zFon greets the Honored Bearer of Wisdom! May the light of the Sun fall forever upon you!” That... wasn't quite what Mach expected. Dryn, in turn, gave the Fons a little wave and replied in their own musical language of tones and rhythm.

  “Hello!” The horned helmet swiveled to inspect the predatory crimson yacht with interest. “I see the d-T'zFon shipyards are producing quite the masterworks these days. Had I time and permission, I would quite like to inspect your engines, but, alas, I cannot leave my friends and Captain waiting while I indulge myself in curiosity. Another day, perhaps.”

  “We would be overjoyed when that day comes, Bearer.” All three replied in unison, Mach's eyes jumping between the now rising Fon and his goofy friend.

  “Do you two know each other, Dryn?”

  The Xarlozch signalled dissent, his voice even but amused as he trundled towards the Winnerbagel. “Not at all, my kind just did theirs a little favor a bit over a thousand years ago. The gratitude of the Fon is enduring, however.”

  Vari took Mach's arm again, her gaze for once not locked firmly on him. Instead it was only half locked on him, and half on Dryn. When she spoke the respect for the engineer's entire species was clear.

  “The Xarlozch saved our entire species from extinction, lifted our world from the grips of utter ruin, and held our hands as they lead us to the stars. Without them there would be no Fon, no Autocracy, nothing but bones and dust. And, for all this, they expected nothing, asked for nothing, and refused everything except the opportunity to help us further.” Her eyes jumped to his then stayed, and Mach had the feeling there was meaning in the weight of her stare.

  “That does sound like something Dryn would do. I'd love to hear the full story...” Another alarm went off inside his mind, causing Mach to wince. “But I have to go, and immediately.”

  The woman slowly withdrew from him, moving to stand beside her guards. Both of whom, Mach noted, now had a purple tint to their lines when they looked at him. Guess they had come to accept him, in some manner or another.

  “We will meet again.” Vari declared softly, her lines now gold but tinged with flashes of dark grey.

  “I eagerly await the day, Vari. Stay safe.”

  With that Mach took up his helmet from the decking and seated in back into place, the locks clicking and valves hissing as it repressurized, then strode up into the Winnerbagel where Dryn awaited. He entered the cockpit, finding Cory dozing on his support arm, then locked into his seat while the Xarlozch did the same. Once the hanger was clear the massive bay doors opened, and Mach nudged the sticks as the gravity drive engaged. His slightly battered vessel fell silently into the void between stars, rapidly gaining speed, then when they were well and clear of the Coriander he fired the antimatter thruster. Stars shifted red then black as they blurred into nothingness, and once more they screamed through the galaxy.

  ---

  Hours later, the Winnerbagel making good time through the long dark, Mach was fiddling with the lock of hair, this time without the gloves of his suit on. That was a SOSHA violation, but Mach didn't care; He wanted to feel it. The hair was fur soft instead of silky, and felt faintly warm to the touch. Perhaps that was just his imagination, however. Beside him Dryn made an odd noise, then interrupted Mach's half-dazed musings on the events of the day. Cory, dozing as he drifted comfortably in zero G, flicked an ear then yawned.

  “I must apologize for my earlier inquiry as to your bags of chest fat preferences, Mach. I was ignorant of your inclinations. That does not, however, excuse my assumptions based on species norms.”

  “Excuse me?” Despite the prompting Dryn continued to ramble.

  “Fortunately Humans and Fon are biologically compatible and would find reproductive acts, even in the nonstandard ways warranted given the particulars of this relationship, mutually and highly enjoyable. Religiously... Well, it is a topic for debate, but I believe the path to salvation would remain open to you both, as long as things are done properly. Which I feel they will be, seeing as that the giving of a gift followed by mutual exchange of mouth contact is a culturally shared initiation of a courtship ritual.”

  “Dryn, what the hell are you on about?” This time Mach slipped some command into his tone, causing the Xarlozch to pause and the whippet to fix him with dark and curious eyes. Dryn took a second to respond, an unusually long gap of contemplation.

  “Mach... Vari d-T'zFon is male. As are you, I'm reasonably certain, thus my thoughts on the sanctity of your relations.”

  Mach's mouth dropped open at that, while Cory began a fit of sneezing laughter. In between sneezes the whippets managed to vocalize a “Hah! Gaaaaaaaaaaaay!”

  “Cory!” Mach chided the outburst with a stern glare, earning a tail tuck of insincere contrition from the canine. The sneezes continued as the human redirected his glare at his engineer.

  “Dryn, you can't tell if Cory is dead or not while he's asleep, what makes you so sure a woman as beautiful as Vari is a man?”

  “I concede that particular point, but, as he mentioned, my species has over a thousand years of close association with the Fon, and the outward signs are quite easy to spot even to my kind. Though the Fon are less dimorphic than humans, the clear and obvious differences between sexes are simple: The slightly more pronounced musculature, the absence of psycholuminous markers over their wombs due to the lack thereof, undeveloped mammary glands, and, most tellingly, only Fonic males have black hair.” Dryn gesticulated inquisitively at the ever more confounded Mach. "Surely even you noticed a certain amount of masculinity as well, particularly after seeing females of the species."

  He... had. In retrospect it was only more obvious. Mach's eyes dropped to the wonderfully soft lock of hair in between his fingers, which was still absolutely, utterly black. Every other detail matched too, to the point where he couldn't argue against it. Plus Dryn was, while theatrical, wholly and utterly honest. Often to the point of brutality. A sense of odd confusion settled in the pit of Mach's stomach as he looked at the lock he held. Stranger still... was the faint sense of relief.

  “Oh.” He said in a small voice.

  “You... didn't know?” Genuine concern carried in Dryn's high lilt. “That may be an issue; The courtship ritual has already been initiated, and the affection of the Fon is as enduring as their gratitude. Vari d-T'zFon will not give up easily.”

  “I need to think.” Mach stated flatly, his emotions roiling despite the terseness of his words, then rolled in the air away from both the engineer and the security officer. The lock of hair was still laced through his fingers, and he spent the rest of the journey in silent contemplation, the events of that brief time he and Vari spent together running through his head over and over. More than a little time linger on the feel of her, no, his lips on Mach's.