Claimed: The Warriors of Nur (10 page)

She grunted affirmatively

“Tits?”

Another grunt

“Maybe.”  He replied non-committal

“What about New Guy?”

“What about him.”

“He throws wood every time he smells you.”

“Who doesn’t?” she cocked a brow.

“I don’t.”

“Not anymore.”

“True.”

They laid in silence listening to the mechanical drone of the ship.

“So…you gonna fuck him?”  He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Are you?”

“Fuck you, D.”

“Exactly,” she answered sarcastically. 

What was it with dudes and their eternal hope that every lesbian would one day come to her senses and realize that she needed dick to make her happy?.  Of course, De’Lhila
had
met females who’d been abused in heterosexual relationships only to then decide that it was safer to be with a female.  She wasn’t one of them.  It wasn’t that she didn’t like males.  Hell, some of her best friends were male…take TK for instance.  I mean… he wasn’t her type, but if she absolutely had to screw a male, he’d probably be it.  For her, it was purely about attraction.  Physically, there just wasn’t anything about a female that she didn’t dig.  From the smell, to the taste, she found the natural female form to be almost intoxicating.  A feast for all the senses.  Males were just sometimes too….male.  Even gay guys just had too much testosterone, in her opinion, and a ‘manufactured pussy’ didn’t do it for her either, so she passed on the 'trannies' too.

“I’m hungry.” Her grumbling stomach co-signed.

“Your turn to cook.”

They both groaned in very real horror.  One of the perks of only having naturally produced food on board was that it tasted way better than the synth-ed stuff; the draw back was, you had to cook.  Everyone rotated chef duty, and tonight was Lhila’s night.  Of all things she hated most, cooking topped the list.  It wasn’t that it was girly or messy or even time consuming, the fact was that Lhila just sucked at it.  Growing up in a military home, food had been functional and that was about it.  It was synthesized to be nutritional and easy to eat, and for that reason she’d never had a reason to learn to cook the old fashion way.  Unfortunately, wave cooked natural food tasted horrible; it always turned out over dried, over fried, or just burnt, so the only option was to pot and pan it.

“Please….nooooo” she groaned dramatically

“Yup…better get started.  Chow times only…” he looked at his wrist unit “...6 hours away, and we both know that’s pushing it for you.”  Playfully he shoved her until she rolled out of the bed.

“Fine” she huffed “I’ll go.  But I don’t want any moans or groans later.  You two did it to yourselves.  I told you both it was a dangerous idea to add me to the rotation.”

“Oh stop your whining…man up.”

“If only you we half the man I am…” she retorted, walking out.

Avi watched the video feed from the ship security system.  The four screens showed different sections of the ship, the Quarantine Units, the Med Lab, the Dining & Living Quarters, and the Docking Bay.  She’d spent the last 30 minutes watching Dr. Von pace circles around the small quarantine unit she’d been assigned to.  The audio feed silenced, she was unable to hear, but she could tell by the rapid lip movement, she was talking…to herself.  Hearing the vacuum lock, she looked back to see who entered the security unit.

“Sup TK.”  She greeted, and refocused on the screen.  The doctor had stopped pacing, and was now sitting on the small bed.

“Where’s Lhila?” she asked, not looking up

“Cooking”

She groaned.  “Again?  Already?”

“You’re the one who wanted to add her to the rotation.  I told you it was a bad idea.”  Propping his hip on the edge of the desk, he studied the monitors.

“Yeah yeah...What do you think of this?” she asked, tapping the monitor that showed the quarantine unit.

“What about her?”

“She just spent the last 30 minutes talking.”

“To who?” he asked in surprise.

“Exactly.”

“You think she’s loco?  I mean…could have PTSD.”  Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned forward to get a better view of the screen.

“Maybe.”  She answered unconvinced

“What does Lhila say?”

“Tight ass…didn’t want to go through the protocol.”

She grunted.  They watched her as she began to unpack the small recovery bag that was standard issue in each of the units.  Each bag contained basic gear, generic sweats, shoes…basic hygiene stuff to get the recovered through the time they had to remain in quarantine. 

Refocusing his attention, TK noted Avi’s tense profile.  “So, what now?”

“We wait to see what else she does,” she answered, still focused on the screen.

“No…I mean…what’s next?”

Avi closed her eyes in frustration.  “I don’t know yet, TK.”  She still didn’t have a clue as to where her sister was.  She felt impotent frustration every time she thought about it.  “I’ve listened to that feed over and over and over.  Something happened…I just don’t know what.”

“Ok, well look…she abandoned ship, what, maybe…what, five clicks from here?”

She nodded affirmatively

“Her pod would have had limited propulsion; they’re not build to take you far, just far enough to clear any explosions, as evidenced by our good doctor there,” he nodded indicating the screen.  “So let’s give her about…half a click in either direction before she started to drift.  We know her tracker activated…what…ahh… 21 days ago now.  You don’t drift very fast out here.  Even after 21 days, what’s the likelihood that she’d be more than 20 clicks in either direction? …If we get within two clicks of her, we’ll be able to track her signal.  We’ll find her, AB.”

“No worries?” she asked, needing reassurance.

“No worries.”  Gruffly, he pulled her into a quick embrace.  It was something that few had the balls—or the permission—to do.  Avi was not good with the touching thing, not unless it was Leo, but TK always seemed to know when she needed it, and he forced a hug from her without permission.

Sighing, she redirected her attention to the security monitors.

“What do you think about New Guy?” she changed the subject.

“He throws wood every time he gets within hearing distance of ‘Lhila.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I don’t.”

“Not anymore.”

“I swear…you get one…” he grumbled

“Just one though?” she quipped, playfully

“It was four YEARS ago…AND I didn’t know it was her.  She had on a mask for God’s sake.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” She chuckled, hands up in mock surrender.

“Fuck you.”

“Hey!  Show some respect,”  she admonished with a feigned frown.

“Fuck you…CAPTAIN.”

Turning from the view screens, she punched him good-naturedly in the chest, shoving him towards the door.  “I’m hungry; go help ‘Lhila.”

“How about
you
go help ‘Lhila, and
I’ll
go see if New Guy is done running the labs.”

“That…or
you
go help ‘Lhila and
I’ll
go to the lab.”

“Rock-Paper-Scissors?” he shook his fisted hand in her direction.

“Ummm…no.  I’mma have to pull rank here. Captain-Captain-Captain.”

He grimaced in disgust.

“Yeah…it bees that way sometimes.”  She smiled smugly

“Fine” he agreed reluctantly “Well…what do you want to do about Dr. Von?”

“If the tests are clear, she can debrief us at dinner, if not first thing in the A.M.”

Turning, she stared at the slight figure on screen.  She appeared to be getting ready to shower, which gave her just enough time to check with the lab, before heading to the commons.  If the tests cleared, she’d see the good doctor at dinner.

Asa stepped into the bathroom.  It was small, with just enough space for a toilet, sink and mirror, and a tub/shower combination; talk about no frills.  It didn’t take long for steam to blanket it in a soft welcoming cloud of warmth.  Stripping, she stepped under the scalding spray and felt her muscles immediately begin to relax.  It’d been almost a week since she’d been able to bathe.  The EP had been equipped with a small head, but it was only big enough to accommodate a toilet and a sink. 

Leaning forward, she let the water run through her shortly cropped hair, using her fingers to scrub shampoo in.  She rinsed and repeated before drenching it in a thick layer of honey-scented conditioner.  She let it sit, quickly scrubbing her body, before rinsing and getting out.  Toweling dry, she donned the sweats that she’d found in the recovery kit.  She wasn’t a tiny woman, roughly a size 14, but the sweats could accommodate either a male or female, and they hung comfortably from her frame.  Folding her soiled clothing, she donned the soft cotton booties before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Tests are all clear, doc.”

Startled, she looked towards the opened door.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.  Heard the shower running, so I figured I’d wait before coming in.”  He smiled reassuringly

Asa assessed the young male to be roughly 18-19 years old, young…too young to be crewing already.  She knew that the age of independence was 16 now, but 18 still didn’t seem old enough.  

Aramis Turner was about 5 feet, 11 inches tall and approximately 220 pounds.  His skin, a medium brown with reddish undertones, showed a slight flush when he mentioned her being in the shower, and his unassuming brown eyes and hair left made him seem less than intimidating.

“Umm…the tests?” she encouraged

“Yeah.  They all came back clear, no abnormalities.”  Sauntering into the room, he leaned causally against the dresser. “Captain wants you in the dinning commons ASAP.”

“Dinning Commons?”

“Yeah…for dinner.  Everyone takes meals in the Mess…no exceptions.”

“Yes, of course…um…” he was beginning to make her uncomfortable with his open perusal. “If you give me directions, I can-“

“I’m to wait and escort you,” he interrupted, “Captain’s orders.  I’ll wait in the hall.”