Page 27 of Rogue Starfighter

“You will adjust.”

“How long did it take the others?”

“Starfighter Miller adjusted within a few hours. Becker and Wilson as well.”

“That’s disappointingly normal.”

“Nothing about those three females is normal.”

“You say that like they wore you down and forced you to like them.”

“They did.”

I lowered myself into the pilot’s seat. Vesh sat beside me. Our thighs touched. The mark at my neck warmed. Neither of us moved away. There was nowhere to go. The cockpit had clearly been designed for two people who were either extremely comfortable with each other or had no concern about personal space.

Vesh’s shoulder pressed against mine as he reached for the upper controls. His scent filled the enclosed area. Clean skin, something mineral, and the faint bite of whatever he used to maintain his armor. I wanted to turn my head and press my nose to his neck. That would have been inappropriate. Also obvious.

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“What did I just say?”

“Something about the sensor array.”

“I was explaining the emergency life-support system.”

“Same general area.”

“Not remotely.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t sit so close.”

“There is nowhere else to sit.”

“Exactly my problem.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth. For a second, neither of us spoke. The cockpit felt even smaller. Then Vesh turned back to the controls. “Focus.”

Right. Flying. Alien spaceship. Possible death. Much safer subjects than his lips.

He walked me through the systems one at a time. Most matched the game almost exactly. But the real controls responded faster. The propulsion indicators displayed power levels that made absolutely no sense in Earth measurements, but I didn't need to read numbers. I was used to active graphs and visual displays. I knew this ship inside and out. This one was just bigger. The weapons system required both our authorization marks before it would arm.

“Put your hand here,” Vesh instructed.

I placed my palm on the console. Black lines spread beneath my skin, matching the swirl on my neck. Light moved from my hand into the Wraith. The ship powered up. I felt it.

Not through the seat or the controls. Inside my body. A faint vibration moved along my nerves, as if the Wraith had taken one look at me and decided I belonged to her.

“Whoa.”

“The nanoparticles recognize both members of the pair,” Vesh said. “No one else can access the ship’s complete systems.”

“So she belongs to us.”

“Yes.”

Us.