Princess of the Void

Two days pass.

The rawness hasn’t faded. The feeling of inevitability has put a lump in his throat. It must put one in hers, too, because both of them do everything they can to avoid being alone together. In the moments they are, they make orthogonal small talk. There’s plenty to be done; she doesn’t need to hunt for excuses. Pirate sightings on the border-space of Tamion. The latest death on Ptolek. Exo unions and Governess Garuna pointing fingers at one another.

And the whole time they try to avoid looking at each other, because every time he sees her, even out of the corner of his eye, it burns into him like a solar negative. He has never been this horny in his stupid Maekyonite life. He is disastrously, comedically, pathetically horny. There is nothing about Sykora that doesn’t turn him on anymore. The poke of her tongue as she reads her reports. The purring snores she makes when she’s flat on her back, asleep. Once, after she leaves the cabin, he spends two minutes just staring at the heart-shaped imprint her ass made in her silk chair until it fades.

She still curls up with his shearling coat every night. She hums his songs. The first night, when she thinks he’s asleep, she pads over to his cot and smells his hair.

Hold the fuck out, Grant. You’re a Maekyonite—no. You’re a human. You’re a human and you will not give up your chance at freedom. No matter how stupid and illogical it is. No matter that, when Sykora is staring at a ledger of exo intakes, she puts her pen to her pillowy lower lip and makes a soft uh noise and he gets so hard he nearly passes out.

A few more days of pain, he tells himself. A few more days of cruelty to himself and to her. And then a life full of love.

It’s coming. They can’t ignore it. The fallout is in question, but the explosion isn’t. She fills her days with her work. He fills his with the belt. Again and again he dashes himself against the rocks. Twice, now, he’s seen the open space on the other end, the glowing beacon obscured by flying obstacles.

He’s beginning to wonder if he’s sabotaging himself. Twisting and yawing into asteroids on some subconscious purpose. Once he passes, she’s promised to take him flying. The two of them, cramped into a close interceptor cockpit, stuck in the void, far from anyone who would see or hear or walk in. No excuses. Nothing between them but a narrow armrest console and their fearful hearts.

He’s cracking up, and he’s getting hungry. It’s time to take a quick break, stretch out, and ask Ajax for something to eat. He thumbs the catch on the door.

It’s barely unsealed when he hears voices. A soft laugh. He halts his motion, and slowly opens the pod door further. A bare crescent in the ceramic and upholstery, enough to see and hear. Ajax is leaning against one of the steel-girder posts holding the sim pod racks, a few rows over. His tail is sweeping back and forth as he talks to a redheaded Taiikari woman in a set of coveralls, a plated helmet under her arm. He’s seen crewmates dressed like that on the flight decks.

“—been in there all day?” the woman asks. She’s cute and full-bodied, with a dusting of freckles on her face. She’s short, even for a Taiikari woman; she barely comes up past Ajax’s stomach.

“Yep,” Ajax says. “Breaks for bathroom and lunch and then he’s right back to it.”

“Is he nice?”

“He’s all right. Has a lot of questions. And you can tell he feels trapped. Like I overheard him arguing with her Majesty. I think maybe he’s avoiding her.”

“Shit, babe.” She fidgets with her helmet’s chinstrap. “Like how bad arguing?”

“Just early-days stuff, I think. Maybe he’ll get over it.”

“I never thought she’d take a husband-of-the-void. Especially one who didn’t ask for it. I thought she was on K-wort.”

“If she was, it definitely wore off over fifteen cycles. Think it was a revenge thing. You should have seen her off the shuttle. She was covered in blood.”

“Why do you—well, I shouldn’t ask.”

Ajax rubs her shoulder. “Ask whatever, doll.”

“Why do you think she’s letting him do this?” The woman glances over at the sim pod. Grant’s heart skips a beat, but it doesn’t look like she’s seen him eavesdropping. “Like, that’s crazy. She’s gonna teach a husband-of-the-void how to fly an armed interceptor?”

“There’s alien auxiliaries,” Ajax says. “It’s not so weird.”

“Yeah, but those are citizen-vassals, Jax. She kidnapped him and now she’s giving him missiles. He’s supposed to be property.”

“I mean… ostensibly.” Ajax leans down and drops his voice. “She’s made him anticomps.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re shitting me.”

Ajax shakes his head. “Next time you see him, he’ll probably be wearing them.”

“Why did she do that? Does she not trust us? Is he in her ear?”

“I don’t know. I mean… have you seen him?”

“Of course. Now and then. He’s fine. I don’t get the fuss.”

“You can say he’s hot, babe. It’s okay. I’ve got eyes.”

“He doesn’t have a tail. I like a tail. I like seeing when you’re wagging it.” Her tail switches out and wraps tight around his. “Are you saying you think she’s whipped now?”

“Not whipped, I think. I don’t know. She’s changed, Meena.”

“What do you mean?” Meena holds his hand. “She’s seemed fine on the addresses.”

“On the addresses, she’s okay. But whenever she’s not with him, she gets jumpy. Like she looks… hunted, or something. I don’t know. Flinching at every noise. Think she’s got a Maekyonite-shaped security blanket.”

Meena tsks. “Poor Sykora.”

“Poor Maekyonite.”

“Poor Jax.” Her hand slips around his waist. “You’re on full-shift, right?”

“Yep. Special assignment.”

“Let me make it up to you, okay? You wanna go to Revelry after work?”

“Guy in agro says the new crop of tauberries is coming in. I think we go to Good & Gathered.”

She giggles. “You’re such a rabbit. Where’s the meat, dude?”

“They have meat. They have those sandwiches.”

“Fine. But you’re eating the mushrooms. Hey.” She stands on her tiptoes and taps his helmet. “Open up, Jaxy.”

Ajax chuckles and raises his visor. Grant can’t see his face from this angle.

“Meet me at agro after your shift.” Meena’s eyes flash. “I’ll take you to G&G.”

Ajax’s tail wags at double-time. “You got it, baby.” He leans down and her face disappears behind his head as they kiss. Meena flips his visor back over his face, and kisses that, too.

His tail thwaps her butt lightly as she goes and pulls a microfiber cloth from her back pocket. “That shit smears, Meen.”

She laughs. “You bring that back, Jaxy.”

As Ajax wipes his visor, Grant closes the pod door as quietly as he can.

He flies three more attempts. He’s barely thinking anymore when he steers the vessel. The yoke is an extension of his hand. The controls disappear. When his stomach demands he clamber from the pod, he hallucinates the cockpit, steering an invisible yoke in his mind, eyes darting to the corners of his vision, seeking invisible PD membrane reports and power allocations.

“Food break,” he tells Ajax.

“You look disturbed, sire.”

“Get me a damn sandwich and plug me back in.”

Grant licks the minty cream sauce from his thumb as he finishes lunch. He tries to keep this question casual: “Do you have a girlfriend or anything, Ajax?”

“Yes, sire. She works in the hangar bay.”

“Do you guys ever… Does she compel you?”

“In private, sire, yes. I’m always anticomped on the clock.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

“It’s, uh.” Ajax scratches his neck. “It’s different for the Taiikari and the vassal species. Compelling against a citizen’s will has been illegal for a few decades now. You can get in huge trouble. Discharged, tossed in prison. She just compels me for things I was already going to do. Or for tiny little things. Teasing.”

“Why?”

A digital hiss as Ajax takes in a breath. “It, uh. It’s flirty, sire. Like a slap on the butt, only on the brain. You know. The feeling.”

“Right. The feeling.” Grant remembers to keep the lie going. “What’s it feel like for you?”

“Like when you’re done showering, and it’s freezing in the apartment, so you gotta run into bed and get under the covers, and someone’s already warmed it up and is waiting for you. That moment.”

“That’s a good feeling.”

“Yes, sire. You?”

“Uh…” Grant draws a blank. “It’s warm. I don’t know. My head is full of asteroids.”

“Would you like to call it a day, sire?”

He shakes his head. “I think I’m close. I really do.”

Yaw thirty clockwise. Afterburner so you’re not crushed. Thirty counterclockwise. Cut engines. Maneuvering thrusters. Easy does it. Let the PD membrane bump that asteroid out of the way. It can take that asteroid.

No it can’t. Reset. Fly back to what he's termed "Fuck-off Canyon."

Thirty. Afterburner. Thirty. Engines. Thrusters. Take the line. Burn through that line. Roll if you have to.

Reset. Back to Fuck-off Canyon.

Thirty afterburner thirty engines thrusters line burn roll blasters. Blast that one. Fuck. No—no. We’re okay. The PD membrane can take it. It can take it. Yaw. Pull up. Up up up up burn burn and he’s through.

He blinks.

He pries his fist from the yoke like he’s pulling a skeletal hand from some priceless tomb relic. He hovers next to the green beacon. Its gentle glow fills his screen. He’s through.

“I’m through!” He screams it. “I’m fucking—argh”

He’s forgotten to unbuckle his harness. Why is he even wearing this fucking thing? He snaps it open and nearly falls on his face out of the door. Ajax has rushed to his side.

“Gods of the fuckin’ firmament.” The green glow reflects off his faceplate. “You crazy-ass—”

He jolts back to himself. “Well done, sire.”

“Ajax, I could fucking kiss you. I could.”

“Thank you, sire.”

With shaking, sweaty hands, Grant digs into his pocket and pulls his communicator out. He flicks the on-switch.

His fingers falter.

Hide it. The moment you tell her, you’re fucked. It’s over. The little voice continues screaming in the back of his mind, watching as he removes the communicator, keys to MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE, and opens the text field.

“Sykora,” he says. “I did it. I cleared the belt. I fucking did it.”

The response is nearly immediate.

AAAAH!!!!

kladsgkjds;foiafw

I KNEW youd never give up. my stubborn husband <3 <3 <3

stay RIGHT there, darling. i will be RIGHT down.

A bare minute later, the lift hums and Sykora is powerwalking out of it as fast as her chunky red platforms will allow, surrounded by a small cloud of advisers and functionaries.

“Majesty, we are in the middle of something,” Waian says.

“I approve the sweep. Two hours from now. Waian, your trajectory is fine. Kindly stop catastrophizing.” Sykora’s speaking rapidly. She isn’t looking at any of the Taiikari around her. She is looking right at Grant. “Half exo blend. We’ll go overnight and give the crew time to roll out the big guns. No strategizing for energy load, just fearsomeness. We are there to look as intimidating as possible, not to open fire.”

“Majesty—”

“For any urgencies, I deputize Vora, all right? You’ve surely swept dozens of times with Vora.” She finally tears her eyes away from Grant and turns on her platform heels to address her assistants. “I put full trust in you all. I will have my communicator on, but my responses may be delayed. I am going to fly an interceptor with my husband now. I’ll be back within the hour and we can address any additional items then.” She spins back around and the victory beacon light shines in her wide, lovely eyes. “Grantyde!”

She leaps into his arms and showers every inch of him she can reach with feathery kisses. “You did it, you did it, you did it!”

The rush of adrenaline departs her and they become aware, at roughly the same time, that both of his hands are sinking steadfastly into the globes of her ass to hold her up, and his erection is trapped between her thighs. She whines, quietly, and his hips rock gentle and involuntary, and if they weren’t being stared at by fifteen people, the game would be up and he'd fuck her standing up.

An engineer coughs.

Grant places Sykora back on the catwalk. She adjusts the tricorne that she’s mercifully wearing over her horns.

“Husband,” she says. “May I accompany you on your maiden voyage?”

“Princess,” he says. “It would be my honor.”