Starmind Chapter 60 (Patreon)

It was well past noon when Fever told me that its Crew wanted to talk to mine. I informed them, and Temeri decided that we should all meet in the cargo hold. I didn’t quite understand why, when we had a perfectly fine rec room, but she explained that they should all be more comfortable if they had an escape route open behind them. That didn’t really help me, since there was nothing for them to escape from and returning to Fever wouldn’t make any difference, not really, but I did as usual and trusted Temeri.

When Khani, Nahij, Mel, and finally Liri came through the docking tunnel, my Crew were all seated at a table I’d extruded from the floor of the cargo hold. There was a long, empty bench on the side facing the docking port, and five occupied chairs on the opposite side, with Temeri seated in the middle. “Welcome,” the captain said. “Please sit. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

Fever’s Crew looked tense and uncertain. But they didn’t look scared or angry—except for Liri, who looked like she wanted to fight someone—so that was good! When they cautiously sat down on the bench across from my Crew they didn’t leave any space, their legs and arms pressed close with those of their neighbors. Nahij took the left edge, with Khani beside her; Liri tried to take the right one, leaving a space between herself and Khani for Mel to sit in, but Mel very firmly sat down right at the edge of the bench then scooted over so that he pushed Liri along until she was trapped between him and the pilot. I guessed they didn’t want her jumping off the bench and trying to do something unfortunate.

Liri grumbled softly at the treatment, but didn’t resist. Judging by how one of the things she muttered was, “Probably for the best,” she knew herself as well as her family did.

“Can Fever hear us?” Khani asked, looking between my Crew like he was unsure whom to ask.

“I can!” Fever replied through one of my speakers. It had taken a few seconds of fiddling, but we’d set up a channel so he could hear everything that happened in the cargo hold and speak through the speakers there. It would be easy to expand the coverage to every part of me, but I wanted to ask my Crew before doing that.

“We trust you won’t be offended if I do what I can to verify the intent behind anything you say,” Nahij said. “It’s not that we expect you to deceive us, but…”

“But we did keep something of monumental importance from you,” Temeri replied, nodding solemnly. “Of course.”

Nahij nodded back, then closed her eyes and rested her head on Khani’s shoulder. Kahni put his hand around her waist and pulled her close, and she relaxed.

“I suppose our first question should be—” Khani started, but Liri cut him off.

“Did you know that Star would jettison our reactor?” the artificer growled. “Did you plan that?”

Temeri didn’t even blink. “No, and no,” she replied, a picture of calm. “It honestly didn’t occur to me. Though I think we all knew that Star would do anything to keep us safe. All of us.”

“Honest,” Nahij muttered dreamily. “And embarrassed.”

Temeri flushed slightly, right at the tips of her ears. “I suppose I am. I know full well what it means for you to be without a reactor. I’m… uncomfortable to have been part of putting you in that position. But,” she added, with great emphasis, “I also trust that Star wouldn’t have deprived you of it if she saw any other way of saving your ship. And I should add that we’ve already discussed how to get you a replacement, and that we have a possible solution in mind.”

“Honest,” Nahij muttered again, a sleepy smile on her lips.

“Right,” Khani said, a little off-balance from the whole exchange. “What I meant to ask was what your intentions now are. I guess you just partially answered that, but mostly the question remains. We’re free…?” His voice lilted, turning the statement into a question, and Temeri nodded firmly. “But we’re also bound to you, very literally. We wouldn’t even have life support if Fever decoupled from Star. So… now what? Where do we go from here?”

“We’re not going anywhere!” I replied. “We need to watch the station!”

“Thank you, Star,” Temeri said, while Varlanda suppressed a smile. “That’s literally true, but I don’t think that was what Pilot Khani meant.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Not at all. Star’s right in that we still have a mission to carry out, one that’s similar to your own. Until something changes, that’s what we’ll do. But to answer your actual question, now we figure out how to live and work together. We have a common goal. We have separate living spaces, but I hope that we’ll all be comfortable enough with each other to move freely between our two ships. You’re certainly all welcome aboard Star, to use what facilities we have or if you want some small variety in your meals. And I hope that we can all help each other with our respective missions, or with any other issues that crop up within our respective areas of expertise.”

“Still honest,” Nahij murmured, smiling at nothing.

“So a surprise partnership, of sorts?” Khani asked.

Temeri nodded. “That’s a good way of looking at it.”

“A partnership where one side is completely dependent on the other,” Liri grumbled. “Not like we could go anywhere even if we wanted to.”

As unhappy as Liri was, she didn’t complain when Mel wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close, rocking her gently side to side. “Which we most likely wouldn’t,” he said softly. “Besides, you heard Fever. You saw the logs. They were right. That reactor was going to blow sooner or later, and there was nothing you or anyone else could have done about it.”

Liri just grumbled some more, then leaned her head so that it rested on Mel’s shoulder.

“Um…” Varlanda said awkwardly, “In the interest of getting to know each other, can I ask a question?”

“Of course, Tell,” Temeri replied. “Go ahead.”

“Well, we’ve spent some time together now. Not a whole lot, but some. Am I reading this right, that you two, Artificer Liri and Enchanter Mel, you’re together?”

Mel laughed. “If you’re asking if me and this little warhead are very much in love—” he turned his head and planted a kiss in the top of Liri’s head, “then yes.”

“And you two?” She gestured to Khani and Nahij’s clasped hands, which rested on the table between them.

“Oh, yes,” Khani said, smiling like he knew exactly where this was going, and it amused him no end.

“Well,” Varlanda said, and she looked like she already regretted opening her mouth but refused to abandon her line of questioning now. “I mean, Diviner Alder and me, we’ve got our own cabins for privacy and all. But I’ve seen Fever’s schematics, and while it’s a hell of a ship, it’s built for performance, isn’t it? It’s very… cozy. So how does it work? How do you get any time alone? I mean, hell, there’s only the one bed!”

Temeri waited until Varlanda finished. Her lips had pressed together in a line that had grown thinner and thinner as Varlanda talked, and a flush crept up her neck, but she didn’t look angry at all, just very uncomfortable. By the end she’d closed her eyes, like she was just waiting for it to be over. Now she sighed softly and said, “Enchantress Tell. That’s hardly appropriate.”

“Sorry, Captain, I just…” Varlanda started, but Khani had started laughing at the same time, and she trailed off.

“It’s quite alright,” the pilot said as his laughter turned to something more manageable. “To answer the question that I think you are asking, if any of us want privacy, we ask for it. But that doesn’t happen often. If any two of us want to have sex—”

“Or three,” Mel said, poking Khani in the arm.

“Or three,” Khani agreed with a chuckle, “they just do. Like you said, Fever is cozy. We don’t have the luxury of being shy or prudish, or no one would ever get to have any fun!”

My Crew all fell silent as they digested that. Nahij laughed softly, but didn’t comment on what anyone was feeling. Then Varlanda quirked her head slightly and asked “Three?” before her eyes opened wide in understanding and she exclaimed, “Oh! And there’s only the one bed! You’re all one big—”

“Two,” Liri said.

“Two?” Varlanda replied, back to being confused as she looked between the rest of her Crewmates.

That was where I stepped in. “Nahij and Mel and Kahni, and Nahij and Mel and Liri, they’re all in relationships. But not Liri and Khani. They’re just very good friends,” I explained. “Easy!”

“Right!” Khani said, breaking out into another short fit of laughter. “Thank you, Star. I hope that does not bother any of you? I understand networks are not so common in the inner system.”

“Nor are relationships with more than two members,” Temeri said, looking a little stunned at this new information. For once she seemed unsure what to say. “We, ah… I don’t see… it doesn’t matter how you all like to… that’s your business. Just… I mean, we’re all adults here, but…”

“We won’t be scandalizing anyone,” Mel promised. The corners of his mouth were twitching something fierce. “That said… you’re all very welcome aboard Fever, but you should let us know a few minutes ahead of time. We’re all very comfortable around each other.”

After another long, rather silly silence, Bekeri said, “I think we should move on to another topic.”

“Right! Yes. Good call, Artificer,” Temeri said gratefully. “We should start looking at what resources we can pool, what tasks we can help each other with, things like that. Any suggestions?”

“We need a new reactor,” Liri muttered, then immediately continued, “but since there’s no quick and easy way to get one… we have some systems and even sections of hull that we just patched as best we could. If we could get everything back to full function and integrity, that would be a good start.”

“I can put a list together and send it to Star!” Fever said over my speakers. “Tasks that need doing and parts we need to do them.”

“Thank you, Fever. Please do that.” Liri said with a rare smile. It was a tiny thing, barely there, but I caught it. And it only took a moment before I received a detailed list of tasks, large and small. It included the materials each task would need, as well as a summary of what Fever currently lacked, which I compared to our own stores.

“Okay, we can do some of this,” I told everyone. “But some of these components… I’m not sure that the Teletic Fabricator can make them. The parts for them, maybe. But the Autolathe should be able to. At least I think so.”

“Then we should focus on that!” Bekeri said eagerly. “We’re close to completion already, thanks to the Captain’s exemplary assistance.”

“Hold,” Liri said, holding up the hand not currently trapped between her and Mel. “What’s a Teletic Fabricator, and what is an Autolathe?”

“Ah! Well, you see—”

As Bekeri went off on an explanation of the two fabrication machines, Varlanda got up from her seat and rounded the table to stand beside Mel.

“We should—” she began, then sat down with a quick “Thanks!” as I raised a seat for her from the floor. “Sorry. We should take a look at Fever.”

“Why?” Mel asked, leaning away from Liri to hear better. She’d started pelting Bekeri with questions, and he was answering with his normal enthusiasm for anything artificing-related. “Do you think there’s anything wrong?” the enchanter continued.

“I have no reason to,” Varlanda replied. “This is more a question of scientific curiosity. I’ve found certain changes in Star’s Matrix compared to her original schematics—”

The meeting split entirely into parallel conversations at that point, with Nahij coming to fully and starting a discussion with Harvin about something called paired divining, and Khani, as the only one of Fever’s Crew not currently talking, having to field all kinds of questions from both Simeon and Temeri about stores, schedules, habits, general health, and other things. It was great! The embarrassment and awkwardness my Crew had shown when they learned of Fever Dream’s two overlapping three-way relationships disappeared entirely once everyone started talking shop—or ship, in their case. Before long they started heading off to continue their conversations elsewhere, with Khani, Temeri, Simeon, Varlanda, and Mel all heading across to Fever, Bekeri taking Liri to see the Fabricator and the nearly finished Autolathe, and Harvin almost dragging Nahij to the room that served as his study or office, where he had all his ritual diagrams.

They all got so into it that I didn’t bother telling anyone when my Light-Weight Structure Development finished, getting it to level 3; I just started on Light-Weigh Hull, figuring I’d want at least one level sooner or later.

Once 1800 hours had come and gone, though, I had to step in. “It’s time for dinner!” I announced to everyone across both ships. “Simeon, you told me once that thinking is hard work. To work, you need to eat! Everyone, please get to the rec room onboard me as soon as possible. I’ve made sure there’s enough seats and that Fever can join us. Thank you!”

I knew better than to expect anyone to drop what they were doing and rush over. All of my Crew were there because they were some of the best in their fields, and you didn’t become that good without being dedicated. The same, it seemed, was true of Fever’s Crew. They found it no easier to set aside their discussions—or tools, in Liri and Bekeri’s case—than my Crew did. But over the next fifteen minutes or so everyone trickled in, grabbing their flavor-paste and drink of choice from the dispenser and taking a seat at the now longer and slightly curved table. Even then they barely stopped talking to eat, though the conversation mostly turned from detailed professional things to anecdotes that were a little more accessible to everyone present.

“I really should have thought ahead and made something nice,” Simeon said apologetically as the meal wound down. “We still have a fair bit of fresh or preserved food. Tomorrow?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Tell,” Temeri said approvingly. “And once the hydroponic greens mature and we get the Culture Vat built—”

“You have hydroponics?” Liri blurted, interrupting her. Then she frowned—at herself, I assumed—and said, “Sorry. But really, you have hydroponics?”

“Oh, yeah!” Simeon said happily. “Just the one chamber right now, but we’re planning for a second. Right now we’ve got beans, eggplant, and snowberries growing. It’ll be a little while before they’re mature, but once they are…”

“I started out as a hypo-tech,” Liri said, her eyes more intense than I’d ever seen her when she wasn’t upset. “Before I even got my class. Hell, doing hypo maintenance as a kid is how I got my class in the first place, learning on the job! I wanna see your op!”

“Well, we’re about done, aren’t we?” Simeon looked around the table, as eager to show Liri as she was to see. “It’s not much of an operation yet, but like the captain said—”

Liri was halfway out of her seat, but slumped back down. “No, sorry, I should at least try to be polite,” she said. “I interrupted Carlon—sorry, Captain Carlon. You were saying something about a vat?”

“It can wait,” Temeri said, and I could swear she was trying not to smile. “Though I expect Simeon will tell you. Go ahead, get a look! I’m not offended. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time. Oh, and one more thing!” she added as Liri practically bounced out of her seat.

“Yeah? What?”

“We try to avoid ranks during meal times. You can call me ‘Temeri’ when we’re off duty.”

“Right. That’s not confusing at all,” she said, then immediately frowned at herself. “Sorry. What I mean, Temeri, is that I’ll try to remember that.”

“Our apologies, Temeri,” Nahiij said after Simeon and Liri had left for the agri-bay. “Liri really is terribly sweet once she gets to know you, but she’s never been good with new faces. This whole situation has been hard on her. Thank you for your patience.”

“I’m not offended,” Temeri said. I wasn’t sure if that was true, since she could be prickly about decorum, but she said it like it was. “I’m no stranger to having to smooth out some rough patches at the start of any rela— mutual endeavour.”

Nahij smiled kindly. “You can say the word, you know, Temeri? None of us will get the wrong idea. We are well aware that we must seem unconventional to you.”

“Right,” Temeri said, a blush creeping up her neck. “Of course. At the start of any… relationship, then. I’m sorry, I just…”

“That’s perfectly alright. I know that you’re not offended in any way. And I can also tell you that none of your crew are judging you for getting flustered. Nor are you alone in feeling that way. This must all be quite a lot to take in, coming from a more… rigid society.”

“I think we’ll all be able to accept four people living happily in two overlapping relationships,” Varlanda said. “Right, Temeri?”

“Right. Yes, of course,” Temeri replied. The blush had reached her ears by then. “I’m just— I honestly hadn’t considered…”

“We should probably change the subject,” Khani said softly.

Temeri replied quickly. Gratefully even. “We were talking about surveillance schedules! Let’s get back to that!”

That night, after Temeri got into bed, she tossed and turned and couldn’t sleep. Finally she opened her eyes, shuffling up against the wall until she was sitting with her legs crossed in front of her. “Star?” she said softly.

“Yes, Temeri? Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.” She was silent for a long while before whispering, “The Fever Dream crew, they all seem very… comfortable with themselves, don’t they? And with each other.”

“They do!”

“Yeah,” she said again, and after another long silence she asked, “Can you send a message for me?”

“Of course! Go right ahead.”

“Thanks.” She took a soft breath, then began. “Hey, Lucy. I miss you—”