An unorthodox honeymoon

Dustin and Sammie’s honeymoon was not, he had to admit, a traditional one. For starters, rather than waking up alone with her a few days after the wedding, he woke to find his bride sprawled next to him, one of her hands still tangled in Rye’s hair while the Rabyth woman in turn had her arm wrapped around the pregnant Feliax who was curled up with her head on Dustin’s thigh. General debauchery aside, the fact that they were in the ambassadorial bedchamber only a day or two after being married had been the new bride’s idea; he’d have been quite happy to take some time and a shuttle and just exist together, but Sammie had been quite clear.

“I married you because I want to commit to you, knowing you’ve got a bunch of other ladies that are equally committed. There is no way I’m going without spending time with them for days on end just because of tradition,” she’d said quite vehemently when he’d raised the topic - and that had been that. Fortunately, staying on board Sola did make the next part of their honeymoon easier - the part that he’d be doing with her in a few hours once they reached the jump point.

Orders had come in from Earth during the wedding Dustin had learned when he and Sammie (followed by a rather sheepish looking Rye) had emerged from his quarters the day after the wedding night. The fleet had been deployed along the route he’d taken to hit the cluster, and was already involved in small skirmishes - which limited how much exploration the scout vessels could do. It also limited the amount of work the Joyeuse could reasonably be expected to handle given the fact she was still on a shakedown tour.

To that end, Eve had been ordered back to the ship she’d arrived on; the new warship was making a high-speed run back to Sol space for a quick check over, then it would be redirected to the second fleet that was quietly moving into position to harass the Durathisians should they make any hostile moves. It’d been thought that the foe that had assailed Sol already would be the first front to go hot, but the coup-planners appeared to be taking things far slower than anyone expected after their catastrophic defeat.

That left the business of scouting out new routes, and potentially making first contact with any species hidden within the area of the galaxy loosely plotted on maps as Fractal-controlled to just one ship. The Solar Ascent.

This in turn meant that they’d be flying uncharted routes, which meant manual weave-navigation… which was the real honeymoon as far as Sammie was concerned. Hours of real-time spent in a melded state with Dustin; they could have taken turns to navigate, but both of them were looking forward to an intimacy that went beyond the physical for the next few days of jumps at least.

Shifting softly, he somehow managed to disentangle himself from the pile of bodies without waking any of them, and went in search of breakfast. Bleu was sitting nursing a cup of coffee when he reached the ready room, the slime sliding a covered plate across to him with a smile. “I heard you getting up. Bacon and eggs, plus there’s juice in the jug.” She said softly, indicating the orange liquid sitting nearby. “You looked like you were having fun last night, though I do need to talk to you about Emely.”

Dustin froze, hand halfway to the jug. “What about her? Is everything…” he began, but the slime raised an hand to stop him.

“She is fine currently, but she is trying to do too much. Did you know she’s spending most of her free time in the nursery?” Bleu said, then seeing Dustin’s puzzled expression shook her head as she continued. “There is nothing wrong with any of us spending time with Meli and Trea’k - or, for that matter, with us helping give them a few minutes peace by watching your kids. There is a lot wrong with Emely going from bedroom to workstation to acting as childcare to bedroom again without a moment to herself in her current condition. I could order her medically to take time off to relax, but… we both know she’d take it better, and it’d probably make her happier if the order came from you.”

Dustin pondered that for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll talk to her before we start the weave jumps. Want to make sure I remember. On a related note, is there anything I should know about with regards Rye?”

The medic snorted. “About a Rabyth? Dusty, she’s showing positive results from all the tests I’ve run since giving her the proceptive. Knowing your two species, there’s a good chance she’s already pregnant - but I’m not scanning her to find out until she asks or it becomes a medical necessity. My advice would be to keep giving her at least one round of attention each night like you have been doing, and let it happen when it happens.”

Emely sat demurely some time later as Dustin explained his and Bleu’s reasoning. The Feliax woman looked to be taking it all in at least, and with better grace than when Meli’d been ordered to cut back. “So, I’m ordered to have some downtime, Sir?” she asked at last, fingers twisting around each other. At Dustin’s nod, the redhead gave a sigh. “Okay. I suppose I should speak to Bleu and find out what she’d consider downtime, right? I really hope it’s not going to just be sitting doing needlepoint like Jaisyl or something.”

Dustin chuckled. “I think it’s safe to say she wouldn’t demand that of you. I did talk to her briefly about it, and she was suggesting spending time with the others just hanging out and chatting - you and Naera haven’t really had a girls night in months, and with how excited Rye’s getting about joining the maternity club you might actually find you have competition in the ‘wants to be wrapped around my dick 24/7’ contest. But if not, you can always just relax in the gardens… hell, you can still visit with Meli and Trea’k - just not as a babysitter for them!”

His words seemed to mollify the redhead somewhat, and talk after that rapidly turned to their ongoing mission. “So, this first jump is entirely speculative,” Emely began, running a hand over her tablet and making the holo display spin. “You and Sammie can more or less pick any route that feels good; once we arrive in system - assuming Defia and Yril’k don’t pick up any immediate Fractal threats - we’ll use the long range scanners to sweep for life or leads on future directions to take.”

Frowning, Dustin leaned forward to look at the spinning model showing the cluster of stars they were starting their search in. “It’s a little bit of a needle in a haystack, isn’t it? We’ve one ship to search hundreds or thousands of stars, some of which may never have had the conditions for life, even if they haven’t been stripped clean by Fractals. What are our chances?”

The Feliax woman shrugged. “Better than you’d think, actually. There’s some research been done by the Velcans on detecting where life should be based on weave threads and a whole bunch of other random signals; it’s not perfect, but it should cut down our searching from ‘wildly impossible’ to just ‘dull and boring’. Plus, if we find any species and they’ve not been got by the Fractals they might be able to point us to others. Closed loops of systems have been found more often than you’d think where none of the species can find a weave route outside a cluster of stars, but there’s lots of trade going on inside them.”

As Dustin pondered that, the door to the ready room slid open. “Dusty? You coming? We’ve got a honeymoon flight to get started on.” Sammie’s grin was infectious, the pilot practically vibrating in the doorway. Spotting the comms officer she tried to get her eagerness under control. “Sorry, Emmz, didn’t mean to interrupt but…”

Tails twitched amusedly behind Emely as the Feliax turned to smile at her fellow haremette. “Don’t worry about it, Sammie. We were basically done anyway, and to be fair Dustin having his honeymoon is way more important than dull discussions about cross-system scanning. I’ll head up with you? Bleu won’t mind me watching while you two… get closer, I’m sure.”

Minutes later, the weave-jump arms locked into place either side of Dustin’s head, and he slipped into the surreal world of weave-navigation. Sammie’s incorporeal form drifted towards him, a wave of emotion so strong it practically tinted the surrounding void pink rippling off her as they bonded. He-they smiled. They-she turned and beckoned with a thought. As one, they rested their hands on the threads arrayed around them, seeking the destination that she-they-he thought the best. Command was requested, a decision asked as their spirits intertwined - and with a satisfied hum they began to move slowly and softly off down one of the golden strands.