9
by Wil

9

by Wil

Day 2

Rain. Droplets of H2O slamming like bombs from the sky. Kale looked up from under cover of the door of the skiv and scowled. Behind him the flashing lightening illuminated burnt coils, smoked plasmet and the rest of the skiv's engine; making the excavated guts of the mini-ship look like a medical u-scan.

Kale scowled harder. The storm ignored him, churning the once dusty and barren landscape into slick sucking mud.

The comm-station squawked into life, coughing out words like the automated crowd control speakers during a civ-riot. But like the storm ignoring him, Kale paid it no attention. It was a beacon. From another ship. He'd been hearing the same message everytime the wind shifted. Somewhere out there someone else was stuck on this backwards ball of dirt. The problem was, without properly working equipment to verify the identifying signal, he didn't know if it was friend or foe.

Kale palmed the gun strapped to his thigh and raised his binocs to stare at the sky again. The read out scrolled down the left side of his scope; temperature, wind speed, distances to nothing; as the infrared continued to show him the pissing rain, flood waterfalls and the jagged buttes of rock on an otherwise barren horizon.

Cursing, he turned back inside and went back to reconstructing his hover drive. The ship shimmered a moment as the energy shield hummed on and Kale gave himself a momentary scolding for not just closing the door. It passed quickly; he'd burn almost as much energy keeping lights on in the dark cabin and this way he got some fresh air and maybe a jump on anyone trying to sneak up on him.

~*~

Day 3

It was still raining when Kale woke up. Fog rolled along the ground and not for the first time Kale wondered what the time was according to this planet. Not like it had natives; natives and neat, warm, dry homes and a docking port and a mechanic and a maintenance bay. He pinched himself out of day dreaming and shuffled to the door to pee.

"Stupid splicing idiot rain."

Though the rain wasn't really hampering him, not yet. He'd replaced the mag-coils before going to bed and now there was a full nagivations systems check to run and wiring to go over. Tomorrow, however, he'd want to check external damage and he didn't want water leaking into any of those mechanisms more than they already were.

~*~

Day 4

It'd taken him an hour, mind completely focused on tracing down faulty wiring, before Kale realized he was humming along to something. That something currently being a rather raunchy bar song coming over the comm.

The computer generated distress beacon was gone. The voice crooning through the bursts of static was flesh and blood and quite possibly male, though strangely husky.

Staring at the infuriating piles of wire around his hands that still eluded him after almost twelve hours, it didn't take much for him to make a decision. Kale scooted closer to the comm console and redirected his attention to getting communications at a hundred percent. Four days of nothing but rain patter was beginning to get to him.

Two hours later, he toggled the receiver on and happily growled out. "Whoever you are, you can't hold a tune for shit."

There was a startled pause in the singing, which had moved from neutral bar songs to just plain naughty limericks.

"Hello?"

Kale laughed. "Hello to you too, Mr. Singer."

"It's Avery actually. Johnathon Avery P-1C, 224537-88 MC GC."

Kale arched a brow. Pilot 1st Class, Messenger Corps. What was a Messenger doing out here? He was out here or had been until a routine scouting mission had become a three on one firefight, with him the obvious loser.

"Special Lt. Jayc Kale. Galactic Conference. And didn't your basics trainer drill you on not giving out unnecessary information."

"Well actually, Lt. Kale, I caught and decoded your signal the moment you first spoke."

Kale smiled suddenly, impressed. So, it'd been a trap to see exactly who else was out here. "Nice." Kale caught his head in mid-shake at the other man's ingenuity. "Wait a minute, I picked up your distress signal the day I crashed. It took you three days to come up with a plan?"

"Three days?" Avery's voice sounded alarmed and Kale felt a pang of concern for the young soldier; because Avery was young. He had to be. Messenger Corps always snapped up the young ones. Kale frowned. They wore them out faster too.

His mind flipped back to his mission specs trying to figure out why a Messenger would be out here in disputed territory. Messengers delivered documents too sensitive for space band relay systems; documents like peace treaties. He'd been sent out to scout locations for a permanent base of operations for a border squad. You didn't put twenty-four armed fighters and a fully staffed base on a peaceful border. Not this border, that was ass backwards diplomacy of a whole new level.

Almost unconsciously Kale's voice softened. "Yeah. Four days total now. I spent my first day a little out of it too. Checked out my ribs, tried to figure out just where exactly I'd landed, see if I had enough supplies while I made repairs. Slept a bit. Since then all I've been doing is mechanic grunt work. It's hard duty knitting a skiv back together, but I know I haven't lost that much time, Pilot."

Avery cursed, but it was too low for Kale to make out. "The beacon must have been on automatically. I thought it'd been only a couple of hours since I'd crashed. A day at most."

Kale nodded slowly. So Avery had passed out. It was probable. He'd passed out himself, knocked unconscious inspite of his bracing straps and outer shielding. But being knocked out for more than a day, no matter how rough the atmospheric re-entry, meant something was seriously wrong.

Inspiration and understanding struck like a punch. "Avery? You're a Wraith, aren't you."

Space-wraith wasn't the most polite term to describe someone bred and raised for space travel. But it was the name that had stuck. And it was true after all. No matter what the genetically enhanced sub-grouping of humans had been born for, they'd all turned out long limbed, pale and pretty. Hauntingly beautiful, the news-vids said. Male and female apparitions of the impossible made flesh.

Kale had never quite believed the hype. But he scowled. Theoretically it did explain why Avery was a Messenger.

"You got a thing against Wraiths, Lt?"

"Kale. Call me Kale." He shook his head, leaning against the console. "And my politics don't really matter right now. You're hurt and worse you're planet sick." He thumped his head against the plasmet panel behind his head, thinking hard. He needed to know what this boy's mission was; what information he was carrying. Had the three fighters that had shot him down been part of an ambush for Avery? Or did they come after him before they'd attacked the Wraith's ship? Had Avery been running away, but he hadn't been trusted? Most importantly, why hadn't they landed to finish the job?

"Avery, what do your sensors say about the storm?"

There was a series of clicks over the comm then an exasperated sigh. "Can't tell. The meters are haywire. I used short-wave to contact you and the sensors are set on infrared and you're glowing like a dawn-bug. But the storm's nothing but static."

Kale sighed. Well that explained it, then. Planetoid storm with electromagnetic interference. If anyone was coming to finish the job on them both, they couldn't land. Yet.

"First things first, Avery. We need to figure out whose ship is in the best condition. Then we need to fix it and get the hell out of here. Suddenly I'm not liking the odds on survival."

~*~

Day 4 - Three hours later

Messenger craft were small, the smallest ships in a fleet, but fast. They were usually sleek looking machines with two slender gunnery mounts near the front with a tiny occasionally lush cabin, and one enormous engine kissing tail to mouth with two equally enormous thrusters.

Kale heaved himself over the muddy incline separating him from the sodden crater where Avery had managed to land his ship and stared at the grit covered former beauty. She was listing, blackened fore and aft with laser damage. Kale felt his estimation of Avery go up another notch. He had no idea how the pilot had survived to even attempt a controlled crash. Whatever had happened, Avery had definitely not been considered a friend.

The hatch on the Messenger ship released itself with a hissing sigh, jarring Kale back into the present and he squished his way through the still lashing rain towards the opening. He snapped closed the restraining strap on his holster, tucked the bionics in their pouch at the back of his jacket and heaved himself up. He was soon sliding down the tilted floor to land head first near the cockpit. Something shifted to his left and he looked over to see a bunk; with Avery in it.

"You're prettier than I would have thought."

Avery arched a brow, but couldn't quite hide a smile. "Well, that's original."

"Oh trust me, it is, cause you look like shit."

Avery didn't try to deny it. His silver gilt hair was smoke dirty, the long braid matted with blood. A scrape along his cheek was healing in bright pink contrasting a purple bruise on his lower jaw and another at his temple. His eyes were feverish and far too bright.

And yet... the slightly tapered ears with their lack of folds and the cupped edges needed for sub-harmonic hearing, the liquid eyes for multispectrum sight, quick reflexes, extended endurance and stamina, higher muscle density, uncanny balance. Kale found himself going over the well known list of attributes automatically; staring. He wondered how much of Avery's flush was his body's reaction to the chill damp due to a natural higher body temperature and how much was possible illness.

"You've never been this close to one of us, have you."

Kale shook his head, clearing his thoughts and wiggled to pull himself into a more upright position. "You've checked yourself out, Pilot?"

Avery arched his brow again, an almost languid movement, but he didn't comment on Kale's deflection. "Bumps and bruises, I thought. Maybe a few scrapes. But losing three days isn't too good. Guess my head isn't as hard as my mother always said."

Kale looked up sharply.

"Creche mother. We do have those and fathers and what we call brothers and sisters."

Kale rubbed the back of his neck, stretching slightly. "You mentioned your left thruster?"

Avery nodded. "I heard a distinct whine when I was landing, like something was loose in the casing. I think it's been seriously damaged."

"I'll go out and check. If it is, then I need you to catalogue anything of value in here that could assist a GC-KI5 back into the air."

"You're worried."

Kale didn't hide it as he starting climbing back towards the exit. "No shit."

"Here, catch."

Kale turned in time to half fumble, almost fall and then catch both himself and the small portable comm.

Avery was giving him a look. Kale couldn't read it. Avery shrugged. "So we can talk when you're outside. You'll probably want some of the thruster pieces in the log, if it's needed."

Kale's jaw clenched, a muscle jumping. "Some of us mere mortals without split second reflexes, need both hands to climb up rigging. You'd do well to remember that or next time we could lose something important and I don't need anymore problems getting our asses out of this mess."

Avery bit his lip and looked down, when he raised his head a moment later Kale's feet were disappearing into the still pouring rain.

~*~

"Splice!"

Kale stared down at the crack in Avery's rear thruster and mentally cursed every senior officer he knew by name. If Avery really had orders to be here, one of them was the single minded idiot who'd sent such a young and probably inexperienced pilot out along a contested border. He slicked his dark hair back, ignoring the water streaming down his face as he tried to remember how much of this ship's systems were transferable and transportable to his own. His earlier irritation at the Wraith's testing actions was completely forgotten.

He raised the comm to his mouth. "You were right. It's damaged. And the welding gear in my kit can't fix a problem this big." Kale punched a panel in frustration, glaring up at the metal wound as if his gaze could seal it. "Shit, I wanted the faster ship."

Avery knew his ship and he knew what he'd heard. Inside the cabin he'd had already started his list in case repairs weren't possible. But it was still a blow to realize Kale evidently thought a fire-fight was likely to happen the moment they breached vacuum. It was a bigger blow to realize he thought the odds favoured them avoiding it.

He pressed his comm channel open. "I'd say come back in and dry off, but I'll guess we need a list of what parts and mechanisms look whole. I've got water and food to last us both three more days - not like we need water." He stared up at the hatch at the damp rolling in and shivered. "So tell me, how badly damaged is your ship?"

Outside, Kale cast his eyes away from the ruined thruster and crawled underneath the looming structure to stare at the Messenger's engine, mentally dissecting it. "I've got wiring problems. And before I came here, I checked my exterior, a couple of hull breaches my torch can handle and I already refitted the hover drive. What I'll need the most is fuel."

~*~

The fuel cells were big. Kale almost snorted at his own understatement. They'd lashed one cell each to their backs, the tall casings extending past their heads and down to just above their knees. Kale could feel the straps digging into his shoulders and found himself looking at Avery, constantly trying to judge how the other man was doing.

Avery had begun shivering the moment they crawled out of the shell of his ship with bags and bundles in tow. So far Kale figured it wasn't the weight that was bothering the Wraith. He found himself wondering what the vacuum the geneticists had been thinking. Spaceships landed after all.

As it was, he found the rain annoying, sure. But the last time he'd checked it was around 289 degrees. Kale paused, trying to convert the measurement on the habitat scale to see if that mattered. It didn't. It was near 16 degrees Celsius. Not that cold at all. Avery's teeth, however, were already chattering. Staring at the water running down the pale skin, tangling in the light hair, dripping slowly, in contrast to the piercing rain - Kale could feel himself getting annoyed as he considered what it meant to be planet sick. He growled softly to himself and nudged the other man forward. "Over the ridge, to the left of the highest peak."

Planet sick. It'd all been so theoretical before - Wraiths and their unease outside of climate controlled environments. But it was more than that. It was almost the opposite of the Taurs, on one level. Taurs were individuals who could find themselves almost anywhere, on any planet and adapt. They could weather high gravity, extremes in cold, a fair variance in heat, fluctuating humidity. They'd been the perfectly engineered colonists and miners. Wraiths, on the other hand, managed total ease in zero-g's, harnessing and welding materials. They didn't need special light sessions, because they didn't get depressed from lack of sunlight. Most importantly, they didn't get space dementia from staring at nothing but stars and empty black for years; that special class of claustrophobia from being stuck on ships or stations that led to feeling the weight of ice-hot death and vacuum pressing in from all sides. Dementia had made men kill themselves by opening airlocks in a desperate need to get out.

Kale had read somewhere that a psychologist had called them completely internal. That was supposed to be key, their internal focus. Humans and the humans who'd become Taurs, thrived on interaction; community, external focus. He'd been startled to hear about creche mothers and fathers; brothers and sisters. It meant that Wraiths had a sense of family and yet they were expected to go without contact for years. He remembered reading in flight school that the planning committee had mentioned maybe two to an area, but that was more to get the job done in half the time. Each would be in their own exploratory scout ship.

Up ahead Avery stumbled. He kicked a crumbling pile of mud in irritated disgust and kept walking. He didn't look back for help. He didn't look back at all. For all Kale knew, he might as well not have been just two feet behind. So maybe that part about their introversion was true. But little things were starting to bother him now. He'd been calling it hype for years, but he'd never really considered that there could be some serious propaganda mixed in. Avery had almost taken it for granted that he'd never been that close to a Wraith before. And yet, Wraiths made up ten percent of all military personnel. Why hadn't he ever noticed he'd never worked with one?

~*~

By the time the light glowing through the clouds was fading, they were stumbling away from the ridge and onto the plain where Kale's ship was belly deep in the earth. Kale couldn't do more than yawn, getting a mouthful of water for his troubles. He was brain tired. Bone tired. He'd stopped thinking about anything other than one foot in front of the other an hour ago. Which was good, because he didn't want to think about how much the walk had taken out of his companion, when he was feeling muscle burn and a strong need to be horizontal and unconscious.

The skiv's hatch snapped open when his tired fingers keyed in the right code and Kale let himself rest against the rough metal a moment before trying to fumble with water soaked and tightened knots. The first aid kit and extra set of cables he'd brought couldn't get any wetter. He dropped them just inside the cabin entrance and tried to worm free of the fuel cell on his back.

A second pair of hands appeared out of nowhere to help him. They held a knife. Kale gasped in relief as the metal cylinder slid down into the ground. He flexed slowly, rolling his shoulders and turned to help Avery. A quick look at the tension and possibly pain filled face, still flushed with fever had him flicking the sharp metal over the rope just as quickly.

Avery crumpled against the side of the ship with a long shuddering breath and Kale found himself forcing the other man up into the cabin. He picked his way through exposed wiring to his bunk, yanking a blanket off and tossing it to the other man.

Still when Avery calmly started to strip, Kale was anything but prepared. Avery's tremors should have warned him. After all it only made sense if someone was sopping wet and cold that they get out of their wet clothes and wrap up in the warm blanket you'd just handed them. And yet this wasn't anywhere near locker room casual among pilots. Human pilots. His own kind.

He turned away, glanced outside at the mud and wet and shut the door. The cells could wait a while. They were fairly well protected, a little water wouldn't hurt. But with the door closed there was no where to go and he could hear the heavy thud as Avery's clothes hit the floor.

Kale forced himself to walk to the back of the cramped space and pretend to be busy. There was no reason to make this awkward. He wasn't an untrained civ or some weak minded idiot who'd get Wraith-struck and ruin his career by becoming obsessed over a few glances of a naked alter-human.

Reassured, Kale grabbed a bottle of water and placed it on the outcropping of the shield generator to warm. It wasn't going to taste like anything, but Avery might appreciate it all the same. That was the priority now; warm water, food and there had to be something in Avery's own medical kit to help him with the fever and then tomorrow there'd be more grunt work.

Avery coughed slightly a few minutes later and Kale turned around to see a mop of blonde hair dripping over a vaguely humanoid blanket shape. Avery was huddled in a corner far away from all possible vents. The emergency lights had flicked on and the air system was humming. Kale sighed and immediately adjusted the thermostat. He grabbed another blanket and tossed it as he passed over the warmed water and two foil wrapped ration bars.

"Dry off in the one you have on, then wrap up in that. It's thermal. Oh and you might want to drink the water before it gets cold."

Avery smiled gratefully. "Have I thanked you yet for not landing halfway across this planet?"

Kale grunted. Now he was somewhere that hinted at extended dryness his body was starting to feel the cold too. He fumbled with his own flight jacket. Underneath his shirt was dry. He swallowed his relief that they both wouldn't have to be naked. "Ditto."

~*~

Day 5

"It's almost beautiful." Avery looked up from under the tarp they were using as they welded, to nod to the scene around him.

Kale looked up grumpily, but then nodded. He had to admit that where he'd landed had more visual appeal compared to where the Messenger ship had gone down. That had been mud, muck and bog. She was probably still slowly sinking. Here, water sped down the sides of buttes onto shards of shale; flashing iridescent in the odd snap of lightening.

"I'm still not here to enjoy the view."

Avery chuckled and Kale felt himself irrationally upset again. It'd been like this for an hour now. The two of them cramped under the maintenance tarp, trying to keep the bulk of the rain off the welding torch. Wet. Uncomfortable. His clothes were sticking to his body; shirt plastered to his chest, water trickling down along his skin to dampen his legs despite his protective and waterproof pants. Avery was shivering, but he never mentioned it. He'd left his outer jumpsuit to dry in the cabin, convinced he'd need some change of clothes by the time they got back inside the KI5. His second layer was nothing more than a now transparent white t-shirt and body shorts. And everytime the man moved, Kale felt himself drawn to look at him.

It wasn't just the shivering or goosepimpling. It was the economy of movement; the lines of his body. Neat and precise. Wet plastered cotton left Avery nearly naked. With all the work they were doing, that meant naked and muddy. It shouldn't have been appealing. Kale growled. They had no idea when the rain would stop, or if it could continue but the electromagnetic force would abate, enabling their enemies to swoop down and eliminate them. They had to get the skiv flight ready again; hopefully even get a gun mount working. These were dire straits. This was about survival. Survival did not include noticing, as his fellow pilot's forearm trembled from strain, that it was completely hairless with a hint of opaline sheen. Survival did not include noticing the tense and flex of Avery's thighs as they braced themselves against each other.

The torch sputtered and Kale leaned in closer, trying to protect the flame even more. This is what humans got in a universe with very few obvious signs of other intelligent life. They started focusing on their freaks. Kale darted a quick, guilty glance up at Avery as the cruel thought dashed across his mind and then went back to his task.

~*~

"Wraith whoring no good piece of shit." Kale slammed his hand against the fuel cell above him that was refusing to fit into the only space he could find for it. He ignored the fact that it wasn't even supposed to be fitting as much as it was. It was hanging, that meant drag, that meant the possibility of it being ripped away when they exited the atmosphere.

On the other side of the bulkhead, through his comm, there was a quiet 'ahem'.

Kale balanced a screwdriver in his mouth and grunted, trying to shift some of the interconnecting cables just a little more. A few feet away from him, working with the second fuel cell, Avery tried again. With words this time.

"Wraith whoring?"

"People say it, ok. Don't pick now to get offended. Not like it matters anyway cause the stupid piece of spliced-shit can't hear me anyway." Kale banged the cell container again, venting his frustration. They'd spent all day on wiring and fixing the hull and the gunnery port. He probably needed rest. But he didn't think they had the time. The storm had stopped. No thunder, no lightening. The rain now was nothing but a simple downpour, sheer and hard and hinting at a sudden end. Even the static bursts over their comm lines were getting less and less. Any moment now they would likely hear the roars of Taur tri-squad hover-drives as they landed and their pilots marched out to subdue and capture.

Kale felt like screaming. He was close to helpless in this situation. He couldn't fight the weather anymore than he could single handedly fight six fully armed Taur warriors. His spine throbbed. He felt constricted and tight and a small part of his mind was slowly admitting that he was both scared and panicking. He'd never considered his death before. But it was framed in his mind now. He'd had days to think about it.

He was supposed to die in vacuum, one hand on the trigger, the other maneuvering his ship in some impossible arial display future cadets would be puzzling over for twice the length of his final age.

Not here. Not like this. Not helpless.

A sharp, tear pricked scream of frustration tried crawling up his throat. Kale bit down and it morphed into a growl. It made his chest hurt. Riding the wave of frustration he attacked the fuel cell again, hitting, kicking and cursing. "Motherless piece of gene-flesh, splice-stupid..." He trailed off, startled into swallowing his words as he was pulled unceremoniously out from under the thruster. Obstinate and confused he tried to sit up, banged his head before he was fully clear and spun off into another round of cursing.

The sled slicked through the muddying grass and Avery stepped over it, effectively straddling him.

Kale wiped water from his eyes and narrowed them. "...What?"

"S-stress trauma." The almost continuous shivering was back in full force now that Avery was in direct rain fall.

Kale noted the stutter as a new development. Avery dying from something other than a laser shot to the heart was quickly added onto the list of things he didn't want happening. Career complications aside, it'd just be bad somehow. Especially since the other man was being pretty good company. He also wasn't losing his temper and he had more right to. Kale arched a brow. "And?"

"No and's lieutenant. You know the symptoms as well as I do. 60 mins rest inside - at least - or either the Taurs or the engines are going to win."

Kale rolled his eyes. "You're not Psych, Pilot. Keep your theories to yourself." His gaze flicked over the other man again, noting the rain drops rolling down Avery's thighs, amidst goosepimples. "You need the rest, you take it. I certainly don't know anything but newsfiles on planetsickness."

Avery dropped from his easy stance into a pinning straddle on Kale's legs. "I'm not letting you kill us both."

Kale stared in wide eyed disbelief. "You're going to fight me into resting?"

Avery's hand was suddenly cool and firm under Kale's shirt, right between his nipples. "Something like that."

It wasn't the most overt advance he'd ever seen. It could even fall somewhere outside sensual contact. But all the respect Kale felt he'd been building for the other man crashed like a pack of paper cards as sensation sparked in his groin. "Get Off Me. Now." His eyes narrowed.

Avery tilted his head. "Regulation emergency kits come with twelve stim-tablets. There're only four left. You mentioned your ribs when we first talked and I've noticed you favour your left shoulder. You need rest. You can't fly strung out like this and you certainly can't fight the Taurs if they land, if your hands are shaking too much to aim."

Emotion and adrenaline kept pumping, fluxing from lust to rage and back again, ramming Kale from groin to throat to a throbbing at the top of his head. He jabbed his hand into his thigh holster and pulled out his pistol, gasping for breath as rage and exhaustion won, spilling out in a scream. He aimed and fired before the consequences of his actions could quite filter into his conscious mind. The sound of his own roaring echoing in his ears.

Avery cried out in pain as the clean beam cut open his flesh. He'd been turning away as Kale shot and now staggered up, shuffling away, one hand holding his wounded upper arm. His eyes went black, nictating membranes slipping into place because of the shock.

Kale wasn't even hearing him. He stood slowly, shaking, gun still pointed at least generally in Avery's direction. The sight of Avery moving away from him didn't help anything. Incensed and still overstimulated Kale slammed the other man up against the exterior bulkhead, arm across Avery's chest and pressing on the open wound, gun to the other man's temple. "Don't ever do that again!"

Avery looked at the blood seeping through his fingers. "Not likely. Pain isn't my thing. I'd heard that humans prefer violence. I didn't really believe it though. Not till now."

Humans preferred violence?! He hadn't seen violence yet. Kale leaned in hard again, jabbing at the other man with the bone of his arm. The hand holding the gun was steadier than it'd been for the first shot.

Kale practically growled. "Piss on that. Since when is feeling up a fellow officer a treatment plan? Or is that some special Wraith thing? Is that where the rumors come from? You lab made bitches can't keep your hands off anyone?" He was in Avery's face now, breath hot, eyes burning. "Come on, spit it out. You've made me curious. That's better than being stressed, isn't it."

Avery's voice was soft. "Either..." he hissed again as pressure was put on his arm and pushed back. It was hard enough to remind Kale of the other's man superior strength, sick or not. "...let me go or find out for yourself if my suggestions for tension relief are better than a gutter brawl."

Kale got red faced at the audacity of it all. The assumption! So what if he'd taken a couple of glances. Avery was an attractive man. Another time, another place, another species...

The thought made him pull back a bit. Would he be this angry if this situation had happened with another human pilot? Would he have immediately suspected it was sexual? Would he have wanted it to be And if he did, would he have found the whole thing flattering instead of infuriating? Would it even have happened at all or would he have listened to a fellow human and taken a few minutes shut-eye? Kale shook his head trying to think through the haze of adrenaline and pride.

Against his skin the heat memory of Avery's fevered flesh didn't seem to fade. Chest to chest, thigh between thighs. And Avery's calm; even when provoked and shot, the stronger man hadn't hurt him. The situation was intriguing enough to be distracting. Kale stared into Avery's eyes, lost a moment.

Avery shivered and started to move slowly back towards the ship's cabin, blood mixing with water to run luridly down the long sleeved white t-shirt. He paused to look back. "Can I clean up, or will you shoot again?"

Kale snapped back into himself so fast there was a bit of mental whiplash. He hovered behind a moment unsure whether to help or just leave the other man alone. But when Avery stepped into the cabin, Kale couldn't follow. He holstered his weapon and leaned against the ship's bulkhead, face up to the sky, trying to calm himself down.

~*~

The stim-tabs hit the mud with a soft splat. Kale watched the rain beat them slowly into white mush and lifted his head to capture Avery's gaze and hold it.

He'd finally made himself walk into the cabin when his teeth started chattering. He'd been wrong and now he needed to fix it. Throwing away the meds was the only thing he could think of doing to appologize for what he'd done. There weren't words to describe how much he regretted shooting a fellow pilot. Regulations and court martials aside, no one but another pilot knew what it was like to be alone in space with nothing but an anodized shell of steel and layers of carefully woven plasmet between you and instant death.

No matter what else Avery was, he was a pilot.

So, Kale watched the pills dissolve into nothing and started stripping off his wet clothes, readying himself for a good rest. In a couple hours they'd try wrestling with the fuel cells again.

It was quiet in the cabin. Avery was curled on the folded out bedmat, wrapped in his thermal blanket and Kale watched the Wraith watch him.

"Did you get it cleaned up?"

Avery let the blanket fall enough to show the careful bandage, spotted with blood.

Words stumbled out of nowhere. "I had no right to say what I did. You were right, I've never even met a Wraith before you. Saying what I said was as bad as when civ's talk about pilot wander lust and loose morals. It was ignorant splice-shit."

Avery was silent.

Kale closed his eyes a moment and tried for humor. "I was ignorant. But don't space me for it and head for Taur territory, ok?"

Avery turned onto his non-injured side and curled his arm under his head to rest. Kale watched for a moment, feeling the silence like a vise before crawling meekly onto the pallet beside Avery and hoping for sleep.

~*~

Day 6

"I've thought about running away."

The rain was letting up. In a few hours they were going to attempt to leave. Avery lay on his back, one arm tucked under his head, facing the ceiling. Kale hadn't even known Avery was awake.

"Thing is, I'd have to do it alone. I wouldn't have any other chance except when I'm on duty. It's not worth it."

"Why not?" Kale didn't move, but he opened his eyes, body tensing slightly, interested in the answer and grateful to the end of the silence.

Avery's laugh was bitter. "Anywhere I go alone, I'd still just be an outsider. The Taurs would be more compassionate, sure. But where could they put me? In a ship or a station orbiting one of their planets? Space communities are small. It'd just make everyone more uncomfortable to have me around being different."

Kale sat up, leaning on his elbow now. "But you'd be different just like them."

"No, not like them. Most Taurs are born now; born free. No labs, no interference. I'd have more in common with their grandparents. And they have a community now, probably a culture. I'd just be a relic of the past. It's easier to be a slave here, than a useless reminder there."

Kale arched a brow. "Aren't you being melodramatic?"

"Am I? The Galactic Conference owns me. If not for them, I wouldn't exist. So I exist, but I eat, breathe and sleep. I need training. I need purpose. That all costs money. I was supposed to earn my life back, by being everything they ever wanted in a deep space explorer; except there the Taurs are, holding all the best colonies and preventing exploration in the one area humans want most. The one area with known mineral deposits the government needs and no other signs of life. Not to mention the Taurs' continued presence reminds them that their creations can think for themselves, might want different things with their lives." There was a bitter tint to Avery's voice, a tightening.

But Avery shifted and Kale could feel him forcing himself to relax muscle by muscle. When Avery spoke again there were more shades of sorrow than anger. " It's been over twenty years now since the Taur Rebellion. I doubt anyone thought things would go on this long, but they have. So without space to explore, I and mine are stuck trying to be useful as Messengers and Engineers and the occasional officer bed toy."

Kale froze. He kept his gaze carefully on the ceiling. "More tension relief?"

Avery didn't answer his question. "The rain's letting up. Do you want me to finish the adjustments while you do pre-flight? I think we can test the engines in an hour."

Kale's voice was still soft, if determined and puzzled. "You're not a slave, Avery. You're a pilot, a soldier. I don't understand how you could think otherwise."

Avery made a sound, half bitter chuckle, half sigh of disgust. "I was sterilized at the start of my fifteenth year. Wraiths aren't allowed to procreate. We earn no salary, own no property and can't choose careers outside of military service; though even then, nothing medical." He sat up, lean and pale; the muscles of his back, buttocks and thighs tensing, his braid loose and in thick coiled curls past his shoulders. He pulled on his shorts and the thin material suddenly seemed impenetrable. "When you retire to some colony just past Sol's system and you've got your spouse and kids and a pretty little house earned from your pension - comm me about our equal freedoms."

~*~

They were tearing through the atmosphere. The dim light of stars getting clearer and clearer. It was the stupidest plan possible. But there wasn't any choice.

The engines worked. The wiring was as good as it was going to get. The rain had stopped falling. They'd already been buckling into their seats when the voice came over the comm demanding their surrender.

Avery kept his eyes on radar and listened intently over the comm for any sign the Taurian fighters knew what they were going to try and do. Kale kept his eyes on his monitors and punched in the command to burn more fuel. The ship gave a little lurch and practically hopped free of the planetoid's gravity well. They were free and running clear and then the skiv shook, sparks flying.

"Pilot!"

"I didn't see him! And the others didn't give me a clue they were going to fire."

"So it was an attack?"

"She's not coming apart at the seams, Lt."

"Stop giving me lip, pilot. If you can't tell me when they're right on me, we have a blind spot. So be useful and get behind that gun!"

Avery unbuckled his standing harness and started moving. "At this speed how long before we're securely in Galactic territory?"

Kale sighed, spinning the ship to avoid one of their three problems. "Not soon enough."

The ship jerked and Kale noticed Avery sliding himself into the tiny secondary pilot seat as he took control of their only gun.

A quick glance at the read-out showed the plain representation of the three Taur ships. "One of them's leaking something. Computer can't tell me what. Try and ignite it." The screen in front of Kale did a dizzying turn and he felt the looping in his guts, no matter that ship's gravity kept him firmly in his seat. He kept his eyes on the read-out. There were times to fly on instruments and this was one of them; if he didn't want four days of wet, rationed food and a possible chill to screw with his equilibrium.

Avery fired and alarms shrieked everywhere as vacuum receded behind them for the quick heat and push of an explosion and shrapnel. Kale slammed the sirens on mute and concentrated on not diving headfirst into an overtaking Taur ship. Debris hit their aft sections with a sound like rain. A sound Kale found he'd be very happy not to hear again for at least two Sol years.

He curved out of the way, fighting a sudden gluing of the controls. "Tri-fuck! They're jamming my systems!" His arms strained trying to hold them onto some sort of course, while mentally filing the strategy away for his superiors. A simple scrolling meter ticked off the moments to a GC border beacon. "Come on... come on... we're not important you bull-heads. You've done your jobs, now let us go."

"They won't." Avery's voice was a low strained whisper. Kale risked turning to glance back at him and arched a brow.

"They won't because they don't want my information getting back to anyone."

There was a long silence, filled with harsh breathing as Kale increased their speed, hoping for a miracle. Wraith, long distances, sensitive documents... no control over their lives.... "You're a spy!?!" Kale was shocked enough to turn around and stare at Avery again.

The other man looked both alarmed and pained. But at least Kale understood now why they'd never discussed Avery's mission. Out of the corner of his eye a flash of red caught his attention and Kale cursed his inattentiveness as he tried to dart the ship away. Somehow, despite everything, they were caught with one in front and one behind. The wing of the one in front of him suddenly exploded and Kale felt the controls loosen a bit as he swerved out of the way. That had to have been Avery.

Good. Very good. That had been way too close.

A sudden incessant beeping caught his attention. The pulse moving into a single flat tone. Kale stared at it puzzled for three tenths of a second before a sleeker, deadlier fighter roared over them, close enough to make the hull vibrate.

It took him a full second to realize the fighter was one of theirs. The bullying tone was the beacon. They'd made it, flying straight into maneuvering patrols.

"JK-KI5, this if PR-LR7, squadron leader. You're leaking oxygen. Do you have a patch?"

Kale blinked, adrenaline flooding down to the soles of his feet.

"PR-LR7, we've been planet stranded for days. We're out of patches. Is there a carrier in the area?"

"We've got a carrier, prepared to be towed once we send your bug problem on its way."

Kale looked over at Avery somehow out of his seat and controlling communications. He took a breath, and then another and then looked at the skiv's status read-out where it showed the damage from the lucky shot from in front.

"You saved my life, Pilot."

"I think we were saving each other's lives, Lt." But there was a bit of twinkle in Avery's eyes, and he looked so human standing there, leaning on the console, hair mussed and trailing, skin flushed.

Kale grinned. On impulse he reached over and squeezed Avery's hip. They'd just made it home, sort of and he didn't want to go back to one of those tense awkward silences, like the second one they'd had finalizing the fuel cell flow. He just didn't know what to say to make sure it didn't happen. "You're a damn good pilot, Avery."

The twinkle became a smile.

Kale drank it in like air. It was a good loop, them smiling at each other, alive, safe. He started chuckling in relief and sagged forward to lean against Avery, still laughing, giddy. Both of his hands came up to wrap around Avery's waist and it was only the tiny moan, coming from the other man, curling up his spine, making him want to continue that made him realize he'd started something. That he was nuzzling Avery through the cloth of his flightsuit, nosing against the Wraith's groin.

His fingers tugged apart the zipped seals, opening the suit and there was Avery's skin. Kale didn't risk looking up yet, because this close he could finally see that he hadn't been imagining the sheen. There it was, pearlscent, delicate. Radiation protection? Heavy metals? Scales? His finger-tips dared to trace along the smooth, hot, silky skin; like chalk and satin. His lips followed his fingers, barely brushing, reveling in the tactile experience. And from there it was so natural to lick, taste.

Avery smelled of earth, ozone and the residual microscopic grit of minerals from the mud that hadn't quite been washed away.

Unconsciously Kale looked up and the sight made him fumble at his seat bracings and slam the comm system to one way only; incoming messages. Because Avery was wiggling out of the suit's top. Because Avery had loosened his hair. Avery looked down at him, measuring his breaths and Kale found himself smiling wickedly as he tugged the clothes out of the way and pushed himself up out of his chair, nudging Avery against a console free panel of wall.

His hands were greedy, palming up Avery's chest, pressing him still, owning his hips as his tongue nuzzled thigh joint and his chin and cheek brushed and teased the other man's cock. It was in his mouth before he could quite think, smooth and soft and demanding and Kale let it stretch him. He let his tongue play against the skin, twirl the head and slit. He watched, as he pulled back and Avery whined, how much shiner Avery's dick was, slick and wet. Like some obscene statuary from a history-vid.

He lapped at it, hungrily. Giving into days of desire, hours upon hours of tension. His body overrode his mind, slipping his hands around to cup and squeeze Avery's ass, one running down to caress the back of a thigh. Avery arched his neck, keening softly and rolled his hips against Kale's mouth. And the remaining blood in the Kale's body fled towards his own cock. He dropped a hand to tease himself through his slacks.

Pulling back, the heel of his hand rolling against his cock, he looked at Avery, stroking the other man and reveling in the sight of marble skin and cornsilk silver hair against the dark grey metallic wall. Kale lifted one finger and moved to touch panels and coax a console. Maybe he was getting high on the thinning oxygen. But when the gravity switched off and Kale looked back, the sight was worth it. The touch of the environment he'd been created for had indeed made Avery wanton. His fingers were digging into the edges of the square panels in the wall to keep him in place. His hair was floating, waving and undulating in the zero-g's. And his legs were spread, hips tilted up.

Wraith.

Even with the events of the planet clinging to him in faded spots of purple and blue along his cheek and the fading grazes of healing skin. Even with the blood spotted bandage on his upper right arm.

Kale pushed off, needing to wrap his hands in Avery's hair. He shuddered at the softness. Avery was one walking tactile overload. Skin smoother than dreams, hair softer than anything he could think of. He knotted his fists in it and tugged the other man down and groaned when Avery's quick fingers began loosening the fastenings of his uniform and freeing his cock. The touch of the hair on his hot skin made him thrust. And Avery was right there, mouth and hair; heat and satin warm.

Regret slammed into him that he hadn't taken advantage of any of this when they were planet bound. The minutes they had were ticking by. In emphasis the skiv shuddered slightly as grappling hooks notched into the hull to drag them to the carrier ship.

He tugged, wanting to go back to what he'd been doing. But Avery slithered all the way up, and wrapped his legs around Kale, pulling him close, positioning him. Kale's eyes went wide, jaw clenching in need. He hadn't planned... his hips snapped once, twice, finding the cleft of Avery's ass. But there just wasn't time for something like that. Not in zero grav, leaking air and probably more than halfway to their destination.

He let his hands release the hair and move down Avery's back to clasp his ass, knead it, move over the well formed thighs, up the defined chest, up his neck, to pop a finger in his mouth and watch the lewd picture as Avery sucked and nuzzled his thumb; Dark blond eyelashes, pale hair, pink lips parted, wanting it, taking it.

A gentle tug finally freed the legs around him and Kale pushed and pulled them into place, devouring Avery's hard shaft before the other man could murmur a complaint. He sucked urgently, counting on Avery to keep them steady by using the roof's bracing straps. Part of him wondered if any of the lovers Avery'd hinted at had ever wanted to pleasure him and if that was why it was turning him on so much to be on his knees for a Wraith. This Wraith. Avery.

He curled his fingers around the shaft, concentrating his tongue and lips on the head and his other hand teasing, fingers grazing the other man's inner thighs and sometimes his sac.

The panting moans from Avery at the technique were almost musical and Kale found himself humping air in desperate arousal, speeding his movements to Avery's breathing. He stilled only when Avery stilled with a desperate cry, his cock pulsing, semen speeding down into Kale's mouth, down his throat.

Kale let go then, and backed up as much as he could, to touch his own cock. The quirk of being fully naked except for the shaft poking through his clothes adding to his arousal. Avery looked like he could go again and again and the sight of the Wraith looking hungrily at what Kale held in his hand set him off, squirting into the cabin. Only to watch wide eyed as Avery swooped in to lap it out of the air.

Their eyes met.

The sharp crackle of the comm broke in. "JK-KI5, we're nearing GC-Carrier 7. The Duluth out of Beta Station S4. Be advised we'll start docking procedures in 5."

Kale turned, tucking himself in, to reply to the message, and kept himself turned away while he heard Avery dress behind him. When the comm was silent again and another minute had passed, he spoke.

"Finished?"

"Finished."

Kale turned and leaned against the console with a bit of a smile. "Looks as if we have good timing." He sniffed the air. But there was nothing they could do about that, that the air leak wasn't already helping with.

Avery was braiding his hair and he shrugged, with a hint of a smile. "Maybe. I still think you picked the strangest time for tension relief."

They held the look again, but there was a different kind of warmth there one that blossomed into humorous naughty looks and half stifled snickers. Kale shook his head, refusing to comment and Avery turned towards his seat, but halfway there he stumbled.

Kale pushed off in shock. A Wraith stumble?! In zero-g's?

But seconds later Avery turned dimming eyes towards him and crumpled towards the floor like a doll with cut strings.

Guilt hit Kale like a Taur's blow to the chest. Avery was sick and he'd forgotten. He was beside Avery in an instant, hands searching for any signs of a burn or puncture; just in case it was something else. There were no marks. Just Avery's heated body getting warmer. The only sign that Avery wasn't suddenly dead was a blatant reminder that Kale had over taxed him. A dead body couldn't have a rapidly growing fever. And even if Avery didn't seem to be breathing, even if Kale had no idea of how to judge his pulse; a dead body couldn't be burning up. Nothing the lab techs had done to create Wraiths could change nature that much.

He held onto to that hope as he moved Avery into his seat, strapped him in and returned gravity; doing all the necessary prep for them to dock.

And when the skiv bumped neatly into one of the carrier's landing bays and the oxygen level and air pressures inside and outside the ship slowly equalized and the hatch to the skiv finally opened; he asked for a doctor.

~*~

Day 9

Stepping out into the main concourse, Kale felt an involuntary flood of home. If he wasn't a pilot, maybe he'd have still been hungering until he got a proper planet-side reprieve. One without rain. But the smooth off-white plasmet of a space station, a perfect 303 degrees Kelvin, the low hum of the air circulation systems, the nubby sure-grip under his feet; it was home. Kale turned taking it all in, from the flurry of color that had him cataloging who was off duty by their uniforms, to the hint of mech-oil, coffee and whiskey from a nearby establishment; a pilot hang-out. Kale didn't move. He just took it all in, where he was, the fact that his ribs were healed and his shoulder muscles repaired. His mind was still too full of the past nine days.

Behind him the doors swooshed open then closed. Kale turned and stopped, completely surprised at seeing Avery for the first time in 26 hours. The subconscious edge in his mind, vanished. They'd fixed Avery up good. The cut on his face was healed, the bruises gone and there was no trembling; Though none of those was as important as Avery standing, breathing, walking, awake.

Kale smiled. But it soon faltered.

The Wraith looked different. And it wasn't just that Avery wasn't smiling back. He was dressed in a Messenger's rich green flight suit, emphasizing his wide shoulders, narrow waist and lean lines. His hair was pulled back and braided. And he was staring out into the crowd as if Kale wasn't even there.

Kale stared. Avery looked every inch the cold, impersonal, beautiful creature he'd begun, in the last few days, to associate with media-vids and personnel files. He was like a blank slate. All personality gone.

Relief ebbed away to leave Kale struck dumb with confusion. But before he could process any of it, he was struck again, physically, swarmed by a sea of dark blue, dark grey clad bodies rushing from the bar. His squadron was welcoming him home.

Hands grabbed him, someone lifted him up off the ground. Everyone was talking at once. Someone turned him around and Kale twisted to try and look at Avery again, not even realizing what he was doing; his confusion growing.

The moment he'd requested medical assistance, Avery had been taken away. He'd been taken over too; hustled for a medical look over and then escorted for an exhausting debrief and an incredibly strange meeting with a psych officer before being given a bunk. He'd slept almost the whole way back to Beta Station as his body crashed from stim overuse. And when he woke up, there was no one to ask about Pilot Johnathon Avery. The carrier wasn't part of his service branch and alone in his room he couldn't access any records.

"Kale? Kale!"

Someone slapped his shoulder hard. "What'd he do, lose his sense in vacuum?" Someone slapped Kale behind the head. He turned to glare at them and caught his second in command, Simon, winking all round. Simon pointed in Avery's direction. "Nahh, he's just Wraith-struck. He's been with that one for days now. It'll pass eventually. Almost always does. But to that end... " Simon shook him, making them look eye to eye. " Lt. Thompson's in for leave and at the bar, Jayc. That'll set you right again."

Someone laughed, and from the crowd a voice piped up. "Or maybe he'll want one of the Lemontt Sisters now. That Wraith's as pretty as a girl."

Simon chimed into the happy chatter. "Everyone should want the Lemontt Sisters. Oooh... yeah."

They started moving Kale away, towards the bar. After a week of his own thoughts and Avery's quiet precence, Kale felt strangely lost in the sea of humanity. Especially as his mind was still trying to work out why Avery seemed so distant. Why hadn't the other man at least nodded at him. Smiled. Grunted. Something! Being incommunicado for a couple hours couldn't be enough to break the ties of a shared life and death experience between pilots. No matter what the vids said about the differences between humanity and their created brethren.

Kale fought himself free of all the welcome home pats and well wishers, pushing past friends to peer at the ramp in front of the serviceman's disembarkation office.

Avery was still not looking at him. Not pointedly not looking. Just normally glancing in other directions. As if he had no idea who Kale even was.

From amidst the flow of civilian and military colors, administration black stepped out of the slow rush; palm screen in hand. Kale watched as Avery lifted the screen, let it scan his eye and nodded his head. The whole procedure could only mean new orders.

Even he'd gotten a two day leave. Shouldn't a previously planetsick Wraith get more time than it took for a fighter carrier to dock with a station? Especially a Wraith spy? A weary operative couldn't be good for any operation. But the administrative assistant disappeared into the rush, and Avery was left still just standing there. Kale moved to take a step forward, but Simon was at his arm, pulling him back.

Kale tried to shrug it off. "What?!"

"He's a Wraith, Jayc. Let it go before psych requests a full review."

Kale turned to meet his friend's eyes. "What?"

Simon's eyes were shadowed, but level, his whole face intensely mature. A complete departure from the happy-go-lucky, fun guy Kale had cheefully let watch his back for the last three years. "We all learn to let it go, Jayc. We have to." Simon's eyes flickered to the upper promenade.

There was more in Simon's voice than what he was saying. But Kale didn't want to waste time listening. He jerked forward harder, freeing himself. But a quick scan of the concourse proved that Avery was already out of sight. And walking down the stairs towards him, dressed in Psych royal-blue, were two men with neat well meaning smiles.

Kale let Simon turn him around against his will and lead him into the bar. The psych evaluation on the carrier ship surged into his mind in brief snippets, combining with Simon's unspoken warning and the realization that he might very well have to become as seemingly carefree if he ever wanted to retire to that system outside of Sol with the paid for cottage and the family of his own. Kale forced himself not to think about the phrase 'equal freedoms'.