Archive of Our Own

“You’re allowed to fuck me while I’m in stasis.”

Sometimes. Dek is compelled to wonder what choices he has made that could have directly led him to these absurdist situations.

He does not. Bemoan them. So to speak. He does not regret anything he’s done, and would do them twice over, if only to ensure that he wake up in the exact way he did this morning. Thia pressed to his side, her cheek flush over his shoulder. Bud curled up at his hip. Drooling.

It felt warm. Secure.

Everything he ever cared about, safely tucked around him, upon the nest he made of his brother’s old bed. He did not want for anything more. Dek rarely allows himself to want for anything much at all, save for these things he already has. Which he knows none can take from him, and will not choose to leave him, regardless.

Which is why it gives him pause –

When Dek is reminded that his happiness is hardly conventional.

“…what?”

They are in the kitchen galley. He, and Thia, and Bud. Dek is in the middle of peeling starch vegetables – things cultivated from Thia’s company greenhouse. She had wanted to see if “normal people food” could be grown in the soil of GENNA, with mixed results. Some greens were too subjectable to the planet’s propensity to violence; they ended up poisonous or mutated upon harvest.

Others. Like the one’s she referred to as “the humble potato” were relatively normal. Save for their size and outer coloring. Dek was treated to what Thia oft referred to as “a balanced diet” – especially now that the ship was mobile.

Dek hunted weeks to stalk up for the upcoming astro-travel for he and Bud. Bud, especially, held a healthy appetite that only grew as she did. A thing that set his mind at ease where it had him and Thia wracking their minds for what to do when she eventually grew as large as her mother.

But Thia insisted they both required more than “the other white meat” and so, Dek found himself playing the part of farmer. And field hand. And sat around peeling potatoes with every other meal he and Bud had under Thia’s watch.

All of which, had become fairly normal, to him.

Before Thia had propositioned him –

“You know. For when I go into long-term defrag. You can fuck me while I’m in stasis.”

Bud made a face. She always made a face, because like Dek, she was still not used to how openly brazen Thia could be. At times.

Because what did she mean –

“I am not doing that,” Dek said, brow furrowed. Potato flexing in his hands as if it had been scandalized, “Why would I do that?”

She had the nerve to roll her eyes, “Oh, come on! I know organics have needs –”

“I am not a base pauking animal, Thia,” he said, offended on the potato’s behalf.

“I know that!” Thia said, voice hanging with sincerity that did not connect with the insanity which she had just proposed. She vented a breath. Inching towards him as she sat across the galley table, “Look…I keep trying to tell you, I’m going to be in stasis for days. Maybe even more than a week while I try to officially severe all the Weyland-Yutani activation codes inside my core-unit.”

Yes. He knew.

Thia had explained that some synths could be tracked, even outside of the space ports outside of her company’s control. That by design, it allowed for them to further colonize uncharted space – under the pretext that they were looking for their products, who had wound up lost in one way or another.

They would send salvage teams. Wherever she went. And if Dek killed those teams, they would send marines. None of which scared him in the least, but caused Thia distress. Claiming she did not want for them to be constantly on the run.

She wanted security.

She wanted to build a home with him and Bud.

As such, Thia was on the verge of entering her “stasis” – a prolonged sleep where she would retreat into her mind and systematically delete the treacherous coding within her.

That is why they would be launching Kwei’s repaired ship out onto Genna’s outer rim. So that Thia could ensure that her base-level connection did not activate with her proximity – that she could be entirely space-bound without fear that any of her company’s sensors could pick up her signal at any distance.

Usually – her stasis did not last as long. A day or so. Thia simulated sleep for Dek’s benefit, or fell into a brief approximation of it after he caused her to cum. But she insisted this would take more than one day. Several prolonged hours.

That technically. She would be comatose.

So why the pauk would he attempt to mate with her?

“The pauk would I try to mate with your corpse –”

“Excuse you!” Thia smacks at his bicep, “I won’t be a corpse – I’m going to be in stasis –”

“What difference –”

“Won’t you miss me?”

“YES!”

At that. They both pause.

Thia blinks. Timid yet her lips grow into a smile that Dek has not seen since he went to rescue her, and found her having already freed herself. It causes a thrum of warmth to spread across his chest.

“…very much, Thia,” Dek says. At length, looking down at the spud in his hand, “I will miss you.”

Immediately. Thia leans over to kiss along his upper mandible.

Her teeth flash in the galley light, “Then you’re allowed to fuck me!”

For the love of –

Dek hands Bud the peeled potato. She gobbles it up, uninterested in whatever it was they were arguing about, now. He wishes to have that ability to let go of things – Thia says he can mate with her while she sleeps. Very well. Perfectly reasonable.

He cups Thia’s face in his hands, “Where is the correlation?”

She giggles. Of all things.

Thia trails her palms over his chest. Causing Dek to suppress a shiver, but one he welcomes, all the same, “I just don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I will be with Bud,” he rumbles, “Ensuring that she acclimates to space travel, and we will check on you daily – trust I will have other things on my mind, to keep me occupied. Your health – first and foremost.”

Her lips curl. A genuine twist as she presses her cheek into his palm, “Sure…but if you did feel like it –”

“Thia –”

“ – I want you to know that I’m okay with it,” she continued, despite his protest, “Really, Dek. If not for you, then for me – say yes?”

Dek sighs.

“Alright.”

Thia squeals – her tone purposely measured so as to not harm Dek’s ears but to get her point across regardless. It is one of countless things she does for him. adjusts herself, here and there. Dek has never asked it of her, yet she is always informing him of any change she successfully implements “for the benefit of our relationship!” and her prolonged stasis is among this.

She wraps her arms around his neck and begins pressing kisses along Dek’s face, nuzzling the side of his face as she speaks to Bud, “Don’t we have the best alpha ever, Bud? You gotta promise to take care of him while I’m asleep!”

For her part, Bud nods with a sneeze.

Dek snarls at them both.

The day that they launch is somber.

Even Genna appears to lament Thia’s loss, as it begins to rain the minute Dek initiates their back thrusters. Bud is whimpering as she looks through the cockpit window, only accustomed to the ship thrumming stationary.

This venture is as much for her as it is Thia.

They will be space-borne for far longer when they travel back to Prime. It is important that Bud grow confident, in what little time she has to fit in the ship at all.

“Ready, captain?” Thia teases, as Dek sits at the helm.

She is always teasing him. A thing where, in any other situation, would be an open invitation for him to pounce on her.

Not today, however.

Today, simply chuffs and has the vessel rise.

They’ve done a few cursory trips all along Genna. Traveled to various ends through the sky, where they have learned to evade the raptors where possible or engage them before they can swarm. Breaking the stratosphere is another thing altogether, and Dek is tasked with making sure that they are steadily parked along the outer rim. Smack in between Genna and it’s asteroid belt.

Close enough for Thia to sever herself from the beacons below, once and for all.

“Brace for the breaking point, Bud!” Thia calls out.

The ships rocks in orbit, Dek trying to stabilize them as best he can as he hears Bud let out a wail and Thia bend over the back of the pilot’s chair. The turbulence enough to remind Dek of what he had endured when crash landing into Genna, in what now felt like a lifetime ago.

But he is not alone right now. And he is in control.

Dek does not allow himself to get overwhelmed.

The breakage through the clouds and the upper atmosphere finally gives away after several tense seconds. All at once, what was fiery and harsh gave way to a one-note calm. Allowing Dek to set the ship to drift over the planet below.

They’d been successful. The ship was now space-borne and there seemed to be no errors or cracks they hadn’t repaired. Just from this first initial launch, Dek knew that his brother’s ship was ready for the return ride to Yautja Prime.

“Whoa…” Thia spoke, voice a hushed awe as Dek looked up to find her leaned over the top of his seat, “I…forgot how beautiful it looked from up here.”

Her pale blue eyes shone brightly with the afterimage of Genna. Dek looking back at the planet in order to confirm that, yes, from afar, it looked relatively serene. Harmless, even. And he could appreciate how it was presented before them, for the first time, as his first initial crash-landing hardly counted.

Yes. It looked…beautiful.

“…it has been a long while since you have seen it from orbit?” Dek asked, peering up at Thia’s illuminated face.

“More than two years, now,” she sighed, wistful as she laid her chin over her hands, which rested atop the back seat of the pilot’s chair.

“You have enjoyed the view, planet side,” he sought to remind her, always recalling something she has said, over the course of their knowing each other.

Thia smiled, “Yeah. But seeing it all at once – it paints a nice picture, doesn’t it?”

Dek stared at her dreamlike expression. The softness of her cheeks as she looked upon Genna like a friend, rather than a Death Planet.

“…It does,” he admits.

Thia breaks into a grin.

As Dek unclasps himself from the pilot seat, he can hear Thia turning, rushing further into the ship in search of their little Kalisk, “Bud? Are you hiding? We’re safe now!”

Dek find her curled up in a storage closet, lip trembling miserably.

“Aw, baby…” Thia cooed, kneeling low to pet along Bud’s back.

Dek allowed her to soothe the child, breathing deeply, “You must get used to it, Bud. We have a long trip ahead of us.”

The child turned in the impromptu nest she made from his discarded clothing and some pelts he had hung up for warmth, should they need it. Bud nuzzled at Thia, who embraced her with open arms, returning the gesture without a second thought.

It had Dek’s chest tightening, at the sight.

When he remembered, that Thia was not long to stay and do so with Bud. Given her plan to go into stasis.

“Bud,” he said, a bit warningly.

“Five more minutes,” was Thia’s muffled reply, face buried in Bud’s neck.

Dek huffed.

He knelt before them. Reaching out to pet along Bud’s spine. The girl shivered at his touch, burrowing herself further into Thia – who despite it all, exhibited a warmth that was pleasant. He had to admit. Having been on the receiving end of it, himself, from time to time.

Sighing, he placed his other hand over Thia’s shoulder, “The sooner we get through with your stasis, the sooner you both may…cuddle.”

Thia’s one eye blinked up at him, slightly miserable.

But she too let out a breath. Venting, she called it. Where to Dek she was simply breathing. Yet such distinctions were important to Thia, so he allowed for it to be important to him. A compromise of sorts.

Dek knew very well that Thia was synthetic. Non-Ooman. He did not mind it, nor considered her lacking in any way, yet for her, it was necessary to remind him of the difference. To her –

It proved that Dek saw her, and not a facsimile of humanity that she had been programmed to exhibit.

Thia loosely pulled herself away from Bud, “You’re right…” she said, cradling the child in her arms, “This is important, Bud. And you promised to be brave and take care of Dek, while I slept.”

Bud looked up at her with a pout. Glancing between her two caretakers with glassy eyes, before eventually realize they would not budge on the subject.

She untangled herself from Thia’s embrace, and went over to stand along Dek, instead.

Thia’s smile was much more somber now, as she looked upon them both with a flickery gaze that made Dek suspect she was taking a legitimate picture of them both.

“Thia –”

“I’m fine,” she said, standing up without a second thought. Dek watched her for a moment, watched as she feigned unimportance and did her usual bid of dusting herself off. He wondered if she would ever stop pretending to be unaffected by the things that so clearly hurt her feelings, but then, he supposed she would not be Thia if she did not put on some sort of show.

In every way that mattered, Thia was very much alive. It was only when she chose to stifle her true emotions when she ever reminded him of Oomen at all.

“Come on! I gotta set myself up,” she said, bouncing a bit on her heels.

Dek rose to stand and nodded towards her to show him where she’d be staying, for the duration of her stasis protocol.

“See – from this distance, I can still feel my internal code sending a signal to the planet-side base. If we were to leave anywhere, now, they’d tag me as a rogue element or missing cargo, which would then send out a feint yet consistent signal to any approximate Weyland-Yutani orbital server within lightyears.”

“And if we travel beyond Ooman-explored space?” he questioned, just for the sake of argument.

Thia shook her head, “No dice. Like I said, it would give them an excuse to send out salvage teams, and worse, if we managed to shake off the scrappers. And there’s no telling that eventually, human-explored space will continue to expand, regardless.”

“They do enjoy claiming that every bit of land and stardust is theirs,” Dek muttered in distaste.

Thia let out a laugh. Walking towards her usual workstation where she produces a series of cables that she sets out to connect into her ears. Dek cringes at the sight – knowing that they do cause her some amount of discomfort, regardless of how necessary she deems them.

Despite the advancements of her people, the synths, Thia often claims that it is better to connect manually on an analogue server, rather than to risk disconnection through the airwaves.

Dek would rather she stayed where she was. Physically. Rather than have her mind elsewhere, where he could not protect her.

Thia sat crossed legged in her laboratory floor. Patting the space beside her.

Dek felt a weight on his chest at the sight. Leaving Bud scamper forward and hurriedly drag furs and padding and all manner of randomized objects along Thia’s body.

She giggled at the child’s reaction, “Aw – she’s making me a nest!”

Of Thia’s favorite things, it looked like. Several bits of Dek’s clothing being wadded together in order to function as a pillow for her head.

“Bud,” he admonished. Feeling the back of his neck heat up.

Bud merely hissed, defensively. Before burrowing into Thia’s lap.

“It’s okay, girl,” was her soft, warm response, petting along the child’s forehead, “I’m going to be very comfortable now, I promise.”

Dek felt that pang within his insides, again. Looking away momentarily to the look about the room. Thia had carved out a laboratory for herself, while doing the repairs. Several of the machinery present was salvaged from her encampment that she claimed she needed to maintain her upkeep and ensure she could also run her usual tests wherever she went. To say nothing of performing checks on him and Bud.

Thia always thought of everything.

Which is why she was going to sleep.

“…Dek?”

Her voice pulled his gaze back towards where she sat.

Thia looked up at him softly. Lips curls up as her eyes help a sheen that she often claims are not tears. Merely synthetic lubrication.

Dek knows better.

He’s licked along her face enough time to know that her ducts eventually overflow, and that her tears taste bizarrely (yet endearingly) like sugarcane. A “biodegradable saline” per her explanations.

Will she cry now? He wondered. Half-remembering that the only times in which she’s successfully done so was with his hand curled up inside her.

Dek drags himself to sit before her.

Thia smiles at his proximity. Smiles at the way his mandibles are curled into a frown and how he is trying not to look at her, despite desperately wanting to. Thia enjoys this…vulnerability, he supposed. She enjoyed reaching out to cup his face, which she does so now, acrylic nails scratching soothingly along his jaw.

“I’ll still be in here,” she said, tapping along her temple with her other hand, “I still…want to feel you, I want to hear you talk to me. Will…that be okay?”

He feels his throat constrict, before answering, “Sei-i.”

“Good,” she said, moving a bid to lay down on her side, “…sleep next to me?”

Bud is already curled up in front of her stomach, purring at her in soothing little tones. Dek is left to decide whether to press Thia’s back into his chest, which is usual for them, or –

To lay down before her.

Shielding his makeshift little clan with his body, as best as he was able.

Dek chooses to stare into Thia’s eyes, before she goes to sleep.

“Thank you,” she said, voice low enough that Dek had trouble hearing her, over Bud’s gentle snores. Thia reached out to caress his face again, “I…love –” she catches herself, shaking her head as if she’d made some sort of error, “…that you trust me. To do this. That you’ll still be here, when I wake up.”

“Of course,” Dek said, brow bone knit as if it were an absurdist question.

Thia nodded, “Of course.”

Her face contorts, a bit. She closes her eyes and pushes her head up, to meet him.

Dek understands what she wants for, and gives it to her freely.

Laying their foreheads together as she drifts off to her internal stasis.

When Dek wakes, he knows that Thia is offline, as she puts it.

The way she is laying is different than normal. There is heaviness to it. A rigidity that he is not used to. Neither is Bud used to it, as she lifts up her head and mournfully begins to shake at Thia’s torso. To no avail. She does not rouse.

Thia is within her mind, now. In the Weyland-Yutani network, attempting to break free off them all.

Dek growls a bit as he sits up.

But…he supposed that this was what it was going to look like, regardless.

“…Come, Bud,” Dek says, reaching out give Bud’s shoulder a comforting shake, “Thia has her mission. We must see to ours.”

The child hoots sadly. But sparing a final glance to her synthetic caretaker, she moves to cuddle next to her Yautja one. Dek allows this of her. Wrapping his arm around her middle.

He feels lonely, too.

Acclimating Bud to spare-faring is its own challenge.

He has to remind her that there is more to do, when on a ship, than eat their fill and sleep. Dek does not want for Bud to grow lethargic, or restless, so he endeavors to teach her proper sparing techniques, as she is still small enough to need them, when out on kv’var.

Bud will not grow into her mother’s size for a while. But she is still remarkably adept and gives Dek a challenge as she goes about demonstrating that her strength alone will not win her the fight.

Grapples are her strong suit. But as Dek runs smaller than most, he is able to wiggle around her mighty arms or break her balance in key moments. Bud learns not to rely on only her arms to squeeze the air out of him, and to be situationally aware of his footing, and where he cleverly seeks to find her weak points, when she is distracted enough to leave herself open to counter-grapples of his own.

Her large body falls often on the mat. And it leaves Dek a bit sore – but it is exercise and it keeps them both preoccupied, in between foodstuffs and checking on Thia.

Checking on her is as literally as they can manage.

Dek does not know what the endless scripts that dance along her monitors mean. He cannot decipher if they are positive or negative, or if they mean anything much at all. For her part, Bud chitters endlessly over Thia’s comatose body. Throwing sheets over her frame or re-arranging her cushions in what she suspects will give her more comfort.  

Dek does not have it in him to point out what Thia would likely do: that she technically does not circulate blood, or at least, does not get the same type of cramps an organic body would, in the same situation.

He does not much care for that.

He allows Bud to move her and give her what comfort she likes. Sometimes, she takes a nap next to Thia, curled next to her as her head lays on her abdomen, and peers up at him as if to invite him to join them, as he usually would. But he declines. Not because he does not want to - but because he does not feel like it would provide anything useful to Thia's situation. It would feel selfish of him, though he does not think it is selfish of Bud. She needs the connection, to feel close to her, and being a Kalisk, she can only truly do so through physical displays, rather than verbal ones. Not that she does not try, regardless.

“Careful with her wiring,” is all Dek repeatedly reminds. Not wanting for Thia to have to restart the process over again.

Bud nods at him. Endless chatter over Thia’s head as she pets at her acrylic hair. She is telling her about their day. What they ate. Who won today’s match. What asteroid almost hit them, if Dek had not been paying attention to the ship’s proximity logs.

It is, for the most part, Kalisk babble. But Thia has always had a knack for understanding it, in any case. Dek will not forbid it between them now.

At one point, Bud begins to whine unhappily.

Putting forward her reddened paw, as she uses it to poke at Thia’s body.

Dek lets out a sigh.

Quickly, he grabs a bottle of antiseptic. Bud had burned herself earlier, in the kitchen galley, and at the time he had attributed it to her being overeager and impatient to eat.

Now, though, he realizes that Bud had purposely done it. In hopes that her injury would be enough to rouse Thia from her slumber, the dignified medic between them that she was.

Bud watched him kneel across from her, gesturing for her to give the paw over, for him to cure. Frowning, the child does so, looking down at Thia’s unmoving face below them.

“…I miss her, too, Bud,” is all that Dek can bring himself to say.

The kalisk curls into herself, not even flinching when he sprays over her swelling hand.

“We must not distract her, young one.”

Bud nods. A silent as Thia laid between them.

On the third day, something happens to Bud.

Dek awakens to find that she is not curled up next to him, as she usually is. Their warmth had been an adequate comfort in these droning days, and it had given him some reprieve since Thia has been asleep.

He hasn’t laid next to her since the first night.

He…does not wish to disturb her.

As such, he and Bud had been curled up in their usual nest. Only today, Dek realized that Bud was nowhere to be found. He searched for her, ardently, wondering where the Kalisk was hiding, only to find her shivering next to the back storage station. Nearest the thrusters.

“Bud?”

He called out to the girl, through the darkness.

Bud remained unresponsive.

“Bud!”

Dek’s heart pounded wildly in his chest. Rushing to kneel before the Kalisk child as she burrowed herself into the tight space between the thrusters and the wall, “Bud – Bud, what is wrong!”

The child barely opened her eyes, huffing through her noise at his voice.

“Bud!” Dek looked about the room – fearing a gas leak or something to have intoxicated her into sleep.

Having found nothing, he rushed back into Thia’s laboratory. Searching for anything that might tell him what was wrong. He knew that she had various scanners that suited different purposes, so in lieu of knowing which to use, he fathered several in his arm.

Dek glanced at Thia’s sleeping form.

Forcing himself to leave her behind, and not risk waking her.

“Bud –” Dek called out, scanners in his hands ready to look over her. There was not leakage in the room, thought it ran rather cold in the back. The thrusters did not seem to burn her, but she refused to budge from their proximity.

Her vitals read at a low level. Her pulse, though not weak, was muted as she continued to lay before him. As if she, like Thia, were comatose.

Hibernation?

Dek thought upon the possibility. Thia never mentioned that the Kalisk might go through a period like this. And why now? Thia would have detected something – would have taken measures to prepare him, for it, or advise him on what to do.

Dek was entirely blindsided.

And it left him feeling –

Hopeless. And on edge.

For the rest of the day, Dek drifted between Bud and Thia.

He constantly checked over Bud’s vitals, fearing a drop might happen without him being there to – what? Stop it? See her through it?

He refused to think upon what he would do, if Bud got worse.

Dek would debate waking Thia – arguing the merits of interfering with her stasis. If he waited too long, and Bud got worse, would she blame him for it? Would she be rightfully upset? Moreover, if he woke her now, and she was unable to do anything for Bud anyway – Thia would simply…stay awake. And they would have to go through the process over again.

Useless.

Is how he felt.

Utterly useless. If he could not do something as simple as watch over her as she slept and take care of Bud than what kind of wolf was he?

He could not even protect his pack as they slept.

At one point. Dek found himself frozen between Thia’s lab and where Bud lay sleeping.

Unable to do anything.

He sat upon the floor and did nothing at all.

As the week rolled on, Dek found himself tearing apart at the seams.

It had only been a few days.

A few, measly days and already Dek could not sit still. He checked on Bud, making a note of her stabilized condition. Then, he would check on Thia, staring uselessly at her monitors and willing for them to give him some sort of sign that she was soon to awaken.

He scratched at his skin, otherwise.

Dek was not a stranger to solitude.

All this life. He had trained by himself. Hunted by himself. Ate by himself. It was a rare occasion that Kwei would come to visit him at all. Spend any amount of leisure time with him that was not sanctioned under Njohrr’s watchful eyes. His strict guidelines.

Pauk’s sake, Dek was not about to go stir crazy on a ship with the two people he cared for asleep in different rooms.

As such. He threw himself into training.

He attempted to quiet his mind. To meditate through the ordeal as best he could. Dek was not a needy male desperate for attention – that is not what this was. He was worried about Bud. About Thia. But it would do nothing to pace about the ship between them as he pulled at his tresses and waited.

Waited and waited.

Dek growled at himself. Through the haze of his thoughts, he tried to maintain focus. Objective. He felt his claws dig into his knees as he sat through his bout of meditation. He will run some drills in the kehrite, upon finishing.

“Did you and your brother spar here often?”

Thia had asked him once. When they were still cleaning out the hull. The fighting ring was in disarray. Many of Kwei’s weapons returned, but some broken in the wreckage.

“Often enough,” Dek had answered. Lifting what he could, despite knowing they had so much more to focus on, before he could even think about setting the kehrite to rights.

Thia bounced on her heels as she approached him with vigor. Perfect teeth biting along her lower lip. Dek watched her grow nearer, doing nothing as she punched at his shoulder, playfully.

“Maybe you and I can go a few rounds?”

Dek rumbled in his chest.

It was as close to a Yautjan proposition as she’d ever given him.

Dek’s mandibles twitched at the memory. Forcing himself to overcome it. What good would it do to remember such things, now? He did not need such distraction. He needed focus. Needed calm.

He worked himself up into activating the draining drones.

They were base-level contraptions. AI mean to track his movements and anticipate when to shoot at him, or produce razorblades as they swarmed him. When Kwei was alive – he often joked that Dek was terrible at outwitting them. That he’d spend more time healing him than training him, if he set him before simple machines.

Dek trilled at the memory now. Cutting through half a dozen with ease.

Had he gotten better, he wondered, or had Kwei simply been overprotective?

“He worried about you.”

Thia had said. Sitting cross legged before him as they sat along a fire.

Dek did not want to hear it, at the time, “…he thought I was weak –”

“No,” she reached over to cart her fingers over his hand, “Dek…it’s – so much more complicated than that. I’m sure he knew that you were capable of so much, but…he also couldn’t stand to watch you get hurt.”

“How else would I have learned?” Dek interjected, fighting the notion in his mind.

Thia’s mouth pursed in the way it so often did, when she presented before her a problem she had to think upon, to answer, “With…him? Around him?”

Dek chuffed, “Now he is gone.”

The fire before them had blazed violent as he threw his meat into the embers. Frustration building in his maw at the thought. If Kwei had been so worried – what good had it done, in the end? He was dead. Dead – and he would never see Dek victorious, in any case.

“Hey.”

Thia’s gentle hands cupped under his jaw.

Moving his head, Dek was forced to look into her eyes, “He’s not entirely gone, Dek.”

His chest constricted as she laid her other palm over his heart.

“He’s right here.”

Dek grunted in pain as a drone blasted into his side.

Stumbling, he feel on one knee – but not before identifying the weakness, and sending a discus flying to rip through the remaining drones before they could gather around him.

They blew up in smoke and fire before him. Bits and pieces falling to the floor.

Dek hissed. Palm pressed at his side as he looked over the depths of the cut. Blood coated the underside of his hand, and it would bruise, to be sure, but it was not so deep as to become unmanageable. Perhaps a day or two to fully heal.

A day or two.

Dek felt a pressure in his chest that increased with every heavy breath he took,

“PAUK!”

The healing salve was within Thia’s laboratory.

Dek was mobile long enough to find it. Shaking the vial in his hands before sliding down slathering it over his exposed wound. His body still thrummed with the heightened tension of his training exercise, and he had disposed of his topmost clothing.

If Thia were awake –

Dek shook his head.

She wasn’t. Awake. He could see her laying still where Bud had left her. On her back. Surrounded by pelts and cushioning meant to give her comfort and warmth. Dek hadn’t dared to move her from where Bud had left her last. And seeing her now, he couldn’t help a pang of guilt that run through him at the sight of her.

She truly looked as if she were nothing more than asleep.

There was a fable like it, in his clan. A Yautja huntress who had fallen in kv’var. She had led her party to victory, and bested the rival Matriarch who sought to deny her her rightful throne. But the hateful female had poisoned the huntress and her people - succumbing them into deep slumber. Her comrades had retrieved her body from the battle – but they could not bring themselves to enact the usual burial rights. And as such, they had left her body prone in an open casket. Displayed to all those who might travel to see her.

Well.

Her lover had heard news of her demise. And struck with grief, had rushed to see her, draping himself over her form as he bargained with Cetanu for her life.

Dek cannot remember how the fable went on. The lover, he thinks, had to fight a mighty beast to prove his devotion - a scaled and winged creature that breathed fire and ash. Something about it provided the antidote or some such thing, but he did know that the huntress miraculously survived. Somehow – her eyes had opened and upon seeing her mate, they embraced and consummated their bond.

It was a story meant for children. Enacted during fertility ceremonies in theaters and village squares. Dek did not know why he sought to think of it now, but it did not give him any respite.

Thia was a capable warrior. But she was no huntress. She cared for living things too much, valued the lives of every creature big or small.

And Dek –

Biting through the pain on his side, he moved from where his back was pressed against Thia’s cabinets. Crawling over to where she lay.

She did not have to breathe.

Thia told him as such many times. She circulated air through vents and pumps in her body. To facilitate cooling and heating. But in the technical sense, she could make due without looking as if she had lungs in her chest at all. Especially while in stasis.

Especially as she slept, now.

“…you look the same as ever,” Dek spoke, realizing how hoarse his words came out, and how little speaking he’d actually done, in the weeks she’d been asleep.

Thia said nothing in return.

Eyes flinching, Dek dared to shimmy closer. Feeling the low emissions of her body. The faint humming of her internal machinations.

Thia was warm, because she was always active. Her body made little noises that Dek could only hear when he pressed his ears over her chest. Even now, she looked as soft as she usually did, and he could not help but lay his head over her shoulder.

Dek flexed his mandibles over the shell of her ear. Mouthing the words before he could properly vocalize them.

“…I miss you.”

When the second week rolled around, Dek began to worry.

He did not know how to wake Thia. Neither did he know how to wake Bud.

He flew the ship over the edge of the planet, just to have something to do. But otherwise, kept drifting from back thrusters to Thia’s room.

Talking to himself.

“…saw a light formation over the topmost part of Genna today,” he trilled. At nothing. At no one.

Thia was as silent as ever.

Even so, it did not deter Dek from walking over to her, meal in his hand as he had taken to eating around her. The last time he had his food in the galley, he’d ended up throwing his plate about the room.

Sometimes. He would eat in front of Bud, hoping the food would rouse her, but she was as unresponsive as Thia was. And usually, Dek would let his food go cold.

“…you would have told me what it was,” he said, to Thia’s sleeping body. He knew he was right about it. Thia was often explaining things around him before he could even have time to pose a question or feel confused, “I took a recording of it, for when you wake.”

If she woke.

The idea pressed into Dek’s mind more often than he cared for. Over and over as the days went by and Thia showed no signs of much improvement. He kept checking Bud’s vitals, but they had settled into this state of stasis, as well.

Dek was utterly alone.

His nails dug into his alloy plate. Not a single morsel having been nibbled or chomped on. He didn’t feel like eating. He hadn’t made it for himself – there was too much starch, not enough meat.

“….wake up.”

He spoke.

A ghost in the wind of Thia’s laboratory machinery.

“Please,” he said, eyes closing shut, “Please – wake up.”

The third week, Dek began to lose his mind.

He debated moving the ship back into Genna. At least planet-side, he would be able to hunt. To distract himself properly. Maybe he would be able to find something to bring Bud back to consciousness. A plant or – some sort of root.

He spent a whole day wondering if he should launch himself back down.

But –

It wouldn’t be viable. Thia and Bud would be left alone. And if Thia woke up – when she woke up – she wouldn’t know where Dek had gone. And what if Bud got worse? He had to keep monitoring her. Had to keep logging her vitals in case Thia knew what to do.

When she woke up.

When she awoke. When she opened her eyes – Dek kept repeating to himself that Thia’s ailment was by design. That she was setting herself free of her programming.

She did not leave him behind.

She was not dead.

“Stop it,” Dek hissed at himself, hand striking the side of his head to silence the thoughts that sought to overwhelm him. He had no one but himself to talk to. He was becoming his own worst enemy.

Restless. He ran himself ragged in the kehrite. He ate little. Ignored cuts and bruises, for even their sting made him feel more alive than simply waiting for either of his girls to move.

How much longer could he wait for them to waken?

Dek did not know. Debated constantly on what to do. At one point. He locked himself inside a room and convinced himself that his neglect would make them wake up – that they would suddenly spring back to life and go looking for him. Concerned, as he had been for them, and desperate to see him again.

It had not worked. And Dek had spent the rest of the next day apologizing to them both.

“…the pauk am I supposed to do,” he argued with himself, alone. Curled up in the galley as he rocked himself through what he suspected was a panic attack, “ – the pauk am I supposed to do –”

He raged against the kitchen storage. He’d left several of the ship’s rooms in disarray – throwing and ripping apart whatever he could get his hands on.

Dek was alone in the ship and unable to talk to the two members of his clan that he cared for. He was running out of options. Out of soundness of mind. He laid in the wreckage of yet another horrid tantrum and thought briefly about going to sleep, himself.

He could…go into stasis.

Like Thia. Like Bud.

Dek eyed the shimmery mirror of a kitchen knife and thought –

A bottle of c’ntlip rolled out from a fallen shelf, among the wreck.

Dek eyed it, curiously. He did not remember Kwei being in the habit of drinking – verily, he knew that his brother detested the taste of most alcohol. Which Dek supposed made sense. Their father drenched himself in the stuff, so it made sense for Kwei to be adverse to following such an example.

He reached for the lone bottle, noting a piece of parchment stuck along the underside.

“I commissioned a gift for you, for when you succeed on your hunt.”

Dek had looked up at his brother in stupid joy, “What?”

“Do not get excited,” Kwei huffed, knocking him over the head, “You still have to survive.”

“I will!” he grumbled, swatting his brother’s hands away, “…what is it?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Then why mention it!”

“Incentive.”

“Pauk you!”

Kwei had laughed.

It was c’ntlip meant for Dek. Upon completing his Chiva.

Celebratory. A stupid ritual – of course. Of course Kwei had wanted to share this with him. His first taste of alcohol.

Kwei was always sentimental.

He was always hoping for the best. For Dek.

He could not keep it in, anymore.

Dek let out a wail. Frustration and tiredness overwhelming his senses. If Thia were here – she would walk him through his emotions. She would try to make him see the positive aspect of having found the gift. If Thia were here –

But she wasn’t.

And Dek was tired was pretending she would open her eyes simply because he asked.

He clawed at the bottles cork. Hastily opening it without ceremony or preamble. Dek had never drunk anything before – but even so, he drown as much as he could in his maw. Choking at the taste and the heat that swam down his throat. Burning every sinus he had.

Dek drank until his vision swam.

Dek drank until he was good and drunk.

Part of him knew why he had crawled back to Thia’s lab.

He missed her, his minded insisted, and he knew that was true. But he also knew that he was full of c’jit – and full of alcohol, besides.

Dek’s vision blurred as he felt his way to where she lay, same as ever. Where Bud had left her, waiting. He still hadn’t moved her, still hadn’t dared, but right now, he could not remember why he’d been so against the notion.

He crawled on hands and knees over to her little nest. Where she waited for him. Looking so much as if she had simply laid down for a nap that she did not need. Feigning sleep, for him. Always for his benefit.

Dek purred as he nuzzled against her face, hovering over the top of her body as he lifted himself, either hand place besides her shoulders.

“Thia…” he spoke, voice cracking due to underuse and the burning sensation the c’ntlip had left, “…Thia…wake up.”

He sighed. Mandibles playing along her jawline. Thia always had a softness to her face, smooth edges. Pore-less skin. Thia has often told him that synthetics did not sweat, but she was still designed to express external reaction.

Such as she did now. Little bumps across her collarbone at his touch.

Dek’s c’ntlip-addled mind chittered stupidly at the familiar sight, “…miss me too?”

Thia did not say a word.

It made no difference to him, at the moment. Too preoccupied with rubbing his tusks over her face, her lips, her disturbingly small nose that he, on occasion, would fixate on, because it was so unlike anything he’d seen before – Yautja or Ooman otherwise.

“…cute,” he whispered, licking at the tip of silicone cartilage, “…so cute, Thia…”

Dek felt a rumble go through his chest at the admittance.

Opening his maw, he snuck his tongue into her parted lips, using his lower fangs to simulate that her mouth was moving, to meet him.

Pretending that Thia was kissing him back.

Dek’s purring increased. Excitement brewing in his chest as he moved over her. Straddling her between his legs as his hands moved over the expanse of her chest. Thia had pert mammary glands – neither of which produced milk. They were meant to be…aesthetically pleasing. A word he fleeting remembered, when he had asked her what was the use of giving her a supple swelling of breast.

Thia’s kind also do not blush. But at that moment, he’d been convinced that heat had bloomed over her face.

“You are always so soft,” Dek cooed as he pet her. Hands cupping at each breast as they filled his palms with ease, “Thia…”

He bent down again, to lick at her lips. Playing with her breasts.

Heat pooled along his abdomen, dipping lower and lower, as he went about caressing her. In time, Dek was not satisfied with merely touching her. And he found himself shimmying his lower body further along her own. Eying the zipper that laid between her breast.

“ – make you feel good,” was what Dek frantically said, reaching for it now, “ – like I always do, Thia, I –”

The expanse of her milky white body revealed itself before his eyes. Making his maw water at the sight. Thia's body was also unlike anything Dek had seen before. Her erect nipples a sign that his actions had not gone unnoticed. Another thing she is designed for - gooseflesh, the hardening of her pinkish brown areolas.

Dek has had ample opportunity to look upon Thia's body - mostly when she is writhing beneath him and begging for his cock in any way that she would like it. But at the moment - as of now - he he takes his time. Runs his clawed hands over her neck, done her collar bone. He feels a yearning that he so often keeps at bay - deep in the back of his mind as he would watch her moan, watch her quake.

He looks upon her now, and feels the pull he fights again spill out of his maw as he cradles the back of her head, "You would not leave me - would you, Thia?"

It is a weakness, in him. It is a doubt and a persistent question that burns him, in his lowest moments. Even now, as Dek nuzzles into her face. Smells the acrylic of her hair, "You would not go - you will not disappear where I could not follow -"  and bites little kisses along her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.

Dek's needfulness is not a thing he is proud of - it irks him. Makes him believe what ridicule he has so often endured. That he is not a true Yautja. That he wants for companionship the way a child wants attention. Thia's acknowledgment has been the closest and most consistent prolonged contact that he has ever known and even that is not enough, it seems.

Even this is not enough - Dek murmurs and paws at her body and her face, wanting for her voice, her movement, her touch, her gaze. He feels the urge to stronger than he would ever dare to admit, if she were awake, when his priority would be on her pleasure, far before his own.

If he can provide for her - than she has not reason to want for someone else. Go looking for someone else. It is an irrational fear that plagues him, despite the fact that there is no one down in Genna would would pose such a risk as competition. There would be no one even back on Prime - when they had already spoken about how he would earn his cloak, wage his bloody retribution, and leave the life he thought he had wanted behind.

For her. For Bud. For their little clan, who has become all that Dek needs.

Even if one hundred eager prospects fell before him, Dek knows that Thia is all that he needs. All he could want for - his doubts often mock that he is the only one who truly feels that way. Between them.

He shushes them now -

Slipping Thia's bodysuit off her shoulders, pulling it down.

She opens up for him. A treasure - a map of her body he has memorized, in every way he can. As her suit snags, he finds enough focus through his c'ntlip-addled mind to find her zipper again. The lower he pulled, the more exposed she became, and Dek could not keep his loins in check as he began to bounce back on his heels.

Groaning. As he licked along the sheen of her body.

“Thia…” he panted. Feeling his erection pressing at his under cloth, “Miss you, Thia…”

His hands shakily reached into her jumpsuit. Feeling between her folds to find a slickness that he had doubted would be there, at first. It shocks him, a bit, and he wonders if this is yet another thing that Thia does, for him. Keep herself wet. 

Or maybe she is not as unresponsive as he previously believed.

Dek let out a laugh, “Miss me?”

Thia did not say a word.

Not that it bothered him. At the moment. Maw opening to suckle at her teat as one hand entered her cunt and the other twisted her other, lonelier nipple. To feel Thia again – to have her taste in his mouth – it was heaven.

It was more than enough.

Dek pulled back. Maw gaping wide as he dug under his clothing to reach for his already weeping cock, “Going to pauk you, precious synth – my precious synth.”

He groaned as he pressed against her entrance. Attempting to properly algin himself in a way that would not hurt or tear. Thia was as scorching as ever – her cavern wet and waiting for him as he pushed his head into the tightness of her.

“Thi-aaaaaaaaaahh….”

For a moment, Dek was still. Claws digging into her hips as he raised her up to meet him at an angle that would not cause him harm. He was hardly even inside of her, and yet –

And yet, Dek felt his mind go blank for the first time in weeks.

“Thia…” he moaned again, head thrown back and unable to properly look at her as his blurred vision went cross-eyed, “Thia, Thia, Thia –!”

He rocked into her with rapid, rough strokes.

Some part of his mind imagined her writhing underneath him. Calling out his name as he used her the way that she liked. The way that gave her pleasure – when he took his own through her body and she allowed herself to feel rather than think.

“Pauk, Thia,” he gasped as he lifted her lower body. Cunt squelching as he shoved his cock into her folds. What a sight, it looked to him, in his c’ntlip addled mind, to the point he wished he had Thia’s optical eyes – set to take a picture frame by frame of their love making.

She did that, often. Liked to show him recordings of their copulations. She would always start out very clinical, mentioning some medical-sounding jargon about the angle in which he pauked her and how it hit her in all the right places. It drove Dek to madness – until it drove him stick himself inside of her.

She had a filthy mind, his Thia.

His Thia.

“My Thia –” he gasped, thrusting into her with growing ease, she always opened up to him like a flower, “My Thia – my mate –”

Dek bit along her neck, wishing he could dig his fangs in. Pretending that Thia was admonishing his recklessness. Pouting about needing to stitch up her skin, and that the silicone repair kit she’d pilfered from her base was only for emergencies.

Well, this was an emergency.

“I need you,” he growled against her throat, “I need you, I need you, I want you so much –”

He felt his internal testes tighten painfully in his crotch –

Causing him to spill a load of his seed into her waiting cunt.

“Thiaaaaaaaaa…..!”

Dek’s vision whitened for a fraction of a second, though it felt like a life time. He knew that normally, he could go for hours without spilling a drop – so the fact that he was already over the edge only showed how pent up he’d become. Along with the alcohol affecting his stamina.

But for all that he was dissatisfied with having cum so soon, Dek did not let it deter him from continuing to thrust. Seed and slick overwhelming Thia’s cunt until it began to overflow and push him out.

“Did you cum?” Dek asked, pleasantly surprised over the notion, “Did you – did you really –?”

Impossible to find out.

Instead. Dek pulled out of her cunt, cum still flowing out the tip as he marked along her torso with his seed. He pumped himself with his hands until he was spilling over her in another hot burst. Until her mouth parted briefly as he marked over her lips.

He let out a breath at the sight.

Readily, Dek set out to clean her with his tongue, “Thia…” lapping along her breasts, and her neck, and her lips until he was pressed against her. Cock over her stomach as he rubbed over her anew.

“Touch me,” he spoke, sudden and true, as he reached for her hands to press her palm along his face, “Touch me, Thia, I have missed your touch –”

He had, in fact, missed the way Thia so often reached for him. Laid a gentle pressure over his face, his chest, his hands. Dek rose to his knees, moving Thia’s hands to paw along his body, until he found himself curling his hand over her own.

Thia’s hands were also so soft on his cock.

Dek was besides himself with the feel of it. Aiding him in the pretending that Thia was conscious and eager to touch him as he was to her. His hips rocked into the pocket he’d made between her palms, and again, he found himself dripping his pre all over her chest.

“You are so beautiful, Thia –”

Again, he felt himself peak. More mess coating over her skin and her face. He nearly feel where he sat, only managing to catch himself by landing on his palm, but even this position set a fire through his body.

He should really pauk her mouth.

Dek liked her mouth. Her talkative. Beautiful mouth which spoke to him. Called to him. Argued with him in that infuriating way she did, when Dek would make her mad.

He longed to hear her now. Too aware, suddenly, that she had not spoken a word. It sent a jolt of pain in his chest to remember where she lay – not in their nest, but in her lab, with wiring in her ears as he growled at the sight of them.

Dek moved back down to lift her up by her back, hands pressed under her shoulder blades. Thia’s head fell back, neck exposed and inviting, but only more proof that she wasn’t truly awake.

“Wake up,” he groaned, shaking her lightly, “Thia – wake up!”

She did not say a word.

Dek buried his face in the crook of her neck. Fresh agony coming to the forefront of his alcohol addled mind.

“…do not want you for this,” he spoke, a sense of derision for himself in his voice, “Do not want for this – I want to hear you.”

But still, she did not speak.

And Dek curled up next to her body, holding her close.

When he next awoke, he felt besides himself with disgust.

As if he had violated Thia’s autonomy, though his mind kept insisting that she had given him permission to do this, if he so wanted.

But he hadn’t wanted. Not really. He’d been to drunk to think straight. And sought only to have her company again. Dek would have never pauked her in such a way, sober, without caring for her needs and setting out as if she were a meal for him to devour. It did not feel right.

He would not do so again.

Dek cleaned Thia’s body with a gentle wet cloth. Fearful that he might have affected her stasis, somehow. Her monitors looked as pointless as ever, scripts going on and on until he grew sick of looking at them.

He’d gone to check on Bud. Noted her vitals, as always.

Then he’d set out to fix Thia up to rights, again.

Which, unfortunately, required for her to be naked. He’d made a mess of her clothing.

Dek cursed at himself at the sight of her. He’s been reckless. Selfish. Too drunk to think about the repercussion of what he’d done. Thia was not a thing to be used for pleasure when he sought it, especially as she slept – no. As she was in stasis, fighting to be free of her corporation’s hold, so that she might be with he and Bud without fear.

And what had he done? Lost his mind. Pauked her body, as if that was what he had missed throughout this ordeal.

“I am sorry,” he spoke, removing her body suit and setting it aside for washing. That would be productive of him, to wash her things. Instead of tearing up the rooms of the ship, “I was not thinking, Thia, I –”

She looked so vulnerable. Curled up on her side where Dek had laid her, as he slowly removed her garments. She looked cold, even, as Dek felt a surge to provide for her warmth, and looked for one of the pelts that Bud had laid across her form, in order to cover what his mind insisted was her sleeping body, laid before him.

He rubbed her shoulders over the fur, soothing and gentle as he purred, forlorn.

“…you look like a huntress of fable,” he said, remembering again the childish story that did not make any sense to him, as an adult, “She, too, slept in her coffin, looking as if she were alive.”

Dek smoothed down her hair. Using his claws to brush along her scalp. At some point, he set himself down, before her, as he had done the first night, before she’d gone into stasis, never to awaken.

“…I love you, Thia.”

He said.

Pressing his forehead over her own.

Laundry done. Dek trudged back to Thia’s lab –

Only to find her monitors beeping.

“Thia!”

He rushed to see to them. Claws tapping over her keyboard in an attempt to fix whatever had broken. To no avail – he found, slamming his fists into the hardware as nothing he did seemed to provoke any sort of reaction.

“Thia –!” Dek flew to her side, where she still laid curled up and naked, waiting for him to dress her, his knees falling before her back as he tried to rouse her by lifting her gently from the side, “Wake up! Thia you must wake –”

She made a noise, at that.

“Thia!” Dek gasped, looking to her face, for answers.

Her head fell back. Looking…animated – looking alive. But still she would not wake, and as Dek waited, his anxiety grew.

“Come back!” he shouted at her, “Thia – if you are in there –!”

Again she made a noise when he moved her, but nothing else, to show she had come back online. Dek was besides himself for what to do – should he keep shaking her? Yell at her more?

He laid back down, gently hovering his mandibles over her still plugged in ears, “Thia…if you can hear me – if you can feel me, let me know.”

Dek’s hands roamed over her hips.

Nothing.

“C’jit –” Dek laid on his side, chest pressed against Thia’s back, “Thia – I am here, I am trying to rouse you, and I do not know how.”

Still nothing. Only now, Dek did the first thing that came to mind.

He dipped his hand over her mound.

“…tell me how to wake you, please,” he begged.

Moving his fingers within her folds.

Again, he found them moist and lubricated – more so than he had found it the day prior, but he attributed it to his seed still lodged in her cunt. He hadn’t eaten her out, as he usually does, so it could account for her slickness.

In his hold, Thia whimpered. Body moving as her thighs clenching between his hand.

He let out a breath of relief, “Sei-i! Sei-i, Thia, that is it…”

Dek curled his wrists. Pumping into her cunt until he could fit a second finger in her, with ease. Thia’s mouth fell open at his ministrations, but still she would not wake, and it had him worrying at his mandibles.

He decided they would be put to better use caressing at her neck.

“Please, Thia…” he spoke, sliding his knee between her legs as he spread her open, gently, “Please – I have missed you – I need to hear you.”

He set his cock along her cunt. Pressing into her slowly.

Thia let out a moan.

“Pauk,” Dek bit, fangs grazing the side of her face, “I know you are in there, my Thia – I know you are listening, my mate –”

“h-hngg…”

Dek sucked in a breath.

Unsure of what more to do, Dek simply decided to plunge forward. In the literal sense, as he grabbed at her hips and set Thia’s body at an angle for which he could thrust into her.

“Oh…oh…!”

Her voice was the reprieve he had so longed to hear.

“Thia –” Dek spoke, draping his body over her trembling hands and knees, setting her to rest her face into his folded clothing – her favorite thing – as he lifted her rear up to meet his hips as he rocked into her, “Come back to me, love, come back –”

“Ah – de –”

He let out a cry as he pauked into her cunt, fangs grazing over her shoulder blades, “My love – my love, my Thia, my –”

“d – DEK!” Thia’s voice finally crackled in his ears.

Dek lifted his head up to see her bleary eyes blinking up, trying to find him, “Dek –?”

He moved up, cock buried deeply inside her hole as his mandibles found her jaw line. Causing her disoriented face to find his waiting mouth, “I am here, precious synth, I am here, my love –”

“Oh, god –”

Thia dipped her head back, meeting his tongue as Dek dug his claws into her silicone hips. Pushing roughly into her soaping cunt as she cried out in pleasure and pain.

“Fuck!” she gasped, moaning as her legs finally moved to meet his thrusts, “Fuck – Dek, I don’t – I can’t –”

“Let me,” he spoke, pace wanton and steady even as he lost himself at the feel of her clenching around him. He had missed that, about her. Had missed her body responding to him in the exact why she did now, “Let me, my mate, I missed you –”

“Fuccckk!”

Thia’s body went lax in his hold, allowing herself to be used as he pauked into her with desperation and relief. She was awake now. He could hear her now – moaning in pleasure, asking him for more –

“m-More!” Thia gasped, mouth agape and eyes clouded in the way that he adored, “More – More!”

Dek licked up her tears, “Whatever you want, my love –”

Moving her again, Dek turned her in his arms, until he could lift her onto his lap and have her bouncing on his cock. Thia looked down at him with an awed expression, breasts bouncing with every jump he had her make.

“Ohhh – Dek!”

“Missed you, Thia,” he confessed, maw open and eyes blown wide, “Missed you, my love –”

“You –” she gasped in his hold, “You love me –?”

Dek tilted her onto her back, her legs locking around his lower body.

“DEK!”

Thia’s body trembled around him. Shaking with the strength of her orgasm – her overload, as she so often called it. To feel it again set Dek teetering over the edge, and he found himself coming inside of her –

Locking into her cunt the way he so often felt she designed herself to do for him.

“Thia…” Dek moaned, face buried into her chest as he road out his own orgasm with shallow, motionless thrusts.

It took several moments for him to realize that he had caused Thia to overload.

Which usually meant that she blacked out entirely.

“C’jit –” Dek cursed, lifting his head, “Thia! Are you –”

“….m’here.”

Thia said.

Causing Dek to sigh in relief.

He moved his body upwards. Searching for Thia’s face, which blinked between blue and white as she stared up at him with awe.

“…can’t believe you said you love me,” she spoke, words a whisper against his face.

Dek could only huff, laying his mandibles over her cheek, “…I will tell you every day. Only never do this again.”

Finally, Thia laughed, hands moving of her own volition to cup under his haw, in order to make him look at her, “I love you too, Dek.”

He moved to kiss her – jaw working to kiss him back.

“I’m so glad she thought to keep herself warm,”

Is what Thia said, upon Dek leading her to where Bud lay. He had showed her all of Bud’s readings, over the weeks, and she had frowned and admonished herself, loudly.

It was music to Dek’s ears.

“She is not in hibernation?”

“Not exactly,” Thia said, petting along Bud’s quills, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before – but the coldness of space might’ve affected her core temperature. She isn’t used to it, and because my body can adapt to any climate, and you’re used to the pressurized, artificial one of your Yautja ship, we didn’t think to adjust the thermos slowly to acclimate Bud’s body to the conditions.”

Ddek cursed at his oversight. Of course cold was one of the primary weaknesses of the Kalisk in general, he was stupid not to note how external coldness might lead Bud into such a state.

“Is she hurt? In pain?” he asked, concern overriding his shame.

“No, this is entirely a defensive mechanism, by the look of it,” Thia continued, coaxing Bud back to the waking world as she used the holo pad in her hands to adjust the pressure and heat of the ship, “To prevent trauma or her body going into shock, she went into this form of –”

“Stasis,” Dek said.

Thia gave him an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry we left you alone.”

“I am the one who is sorry, Thia,” he confessed, laying a hand over her shoulder and over Bud’s head, “It should have occurred to me. And I believe I interrupted your defragmentation, as well.”

“You didn’t,” she shook her head, “It was – hey, Bud!”

The kalisk child slowly opened her eyes.

Dek felt a swell of relief pass his maw, “Bud!”

Her head lifted up, eyes wide as she glanced between Dek and Thia with a side smile over her muzzle. Sneezing in happiness.

“You had a long nap, sweet little thing,” Thia said, nuzzling her face over Bud’s nose, “We both did.”

Dek grinned at the sight.

Thia looked back at him, still pressed into Bud’s face, a smile on her lips as she watched him, “I think the only one of us who didn’t get much sleep this month was our poor alpha!”

“I am fine,” he said.

“Fine my boot,” she said, hands on her hips as Bud began to nod in agreement, “Let’s get you to bed, mister!”

“You did not tell me if your stasis was successful.”

Dek spoke, upon waking up the next morning, face on Thia’s lap and Bud’s framed firmly wrapped around his legs.

She looked down at him with a smile, “It was actually – though I would have never anticipated how…out of body it was for me figure it out.”

“How so?”

“Well – it’s like my mind is floating, whenever I connect to the wider network or to an internal system,” Thia started, looking pensive, “And at first…well, I think I could hear you and Bud talk over me every once in a while, or at least, I could hear Bud for a lot of the first initial code scumming. Then, her voice went away and I tried to focus on deleting my internal tagging from outside tampering.”

Likely when Bud had gone into forced hibernation. Or so Dek speculated, “Then?”

“Then…I guess I got scared,” Thia admitted, voice small, “It was…so hard, to stay focused. But – but every time I was afraid I’d get lost in it – I would hear you. I think.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Thia smiled, “You. You kept…saying that you missed me. And I think you tried telling me the story of sleeping beauty? Or snow white – whichever of the two –”

“I do not know either of those fables,” Dek said, slight pout to his maw as he suppressed his blush as well as he could manage, “You much be confused.”

“Sure,” she shrugged, knowing smile despite his protests, “In any case – at some point I just…really wanted to wake up. To see you both. I managed to severe my connection to the corporation but my central processor was taking forever to reboot – I might have actually been – sleeping? It was so bizarre!”

 Dek huffed, laying his face on her lap, anew, “…I had to pauk you awake.”

Thia giggled. Of all things.

“You sure did!” she said, a playful look on her face, “I thought you said you weren’t interested in fucking my comatose body?”

“I was not,” Dek growled, burying his face into her thighs, “I…simply missed you. Towards the end. More than I could…express.”

Thia said nothing, but moved her hands over his tresses. Gently. Dek allowed himself to feel the sensation of her palms over his sensitive locks send shivers down his spine. She was awake. She was speaking to him. And she was touching him, all the in the exact way he had missed, for weeks.

Before all this. Dek would not let himself admit to nuzzling against her thighs, as he was doing now, but he was beyond the point of self-censor. Inhaling the faint aroma of her skin - one he could only ever detected when he was this close to her, and she was devoid of other lingering smells clinging to her.

It was a curious fragrance - one that he still had trouble pinning down. A freshness unique to her body - the silicone of her skin, the organic fuel that pumped underneath it. Even the moisture pressing along her mound carries a scent, though she insists it is merely generic lubricant. She cannot know what he senses, not being Yautja, but for Dek, her musk is a comfort. There is not a part of her that does not linger in his maw.

Dek purrs in hic throat at the feel of her slipping her fingers along his scalp.

“I think you expressed it very – well, Dek,” she said, at length. 

Dek smirked, “With my cock?”

“With your words,” Thia amended, her own words coating with affection, “…I love you, Dek.”

He opened his eyes.

Dek’s gaze found hers. Found her blue-toned eyes glisten with her sugarcane tears.

“I love you, Thia.”