“Occupants can extend that if they ration. And if they find a habitable planet, there’s no telling how long they could survive. Perhaps indefinitely if conditions are right.”
“That’s a lot of ifs.”
“Ifs keep us fighting in untenable situations.”
Her somber features softened. “Yes, I guess they do.” Drawing in a deep breath, she held it a moment, then released it. Though her face brightened with another smile, he knew her well enough now to glimpse the sorrow she tried to hide behind it. “So, how soon is dinner? Because I’m famished.”
Amusement rose despite his concern for her. “You just ate two bags of jarumi nuggets.”
“I know. But I really wanted four.”
He laughed. “As it happens, I came looking for you so that I might ask you if you would again care to join me for last meal. They have already begun serving.”
“I would love to. Lead the way.”
Once more, Eliana pleased Kusgan by requesting a warrior’s portion. Dagon guided her to a table by another holowindow so she might enjoy the scenery and scents of Segonia.
Murmured conversation flowed around them as they dove into their meals.
As soon as he finished, Dagon pushed his tray aside, rested his elbows on the table, and leaned forward so he could lose himself in Eliana.
He didn’t think a woman had ever intrigued or entertained him more. No woman had attracted him so intensely either. And Eliana did it without artifice or affectation. She didn’t tease him with coy glances or seemingly innocent touches that weren’t so innocent as some women had in the past. She just chatted and smiled and laughed in ways that made him feel lighter and kept a perpetual smile on his lips.
“So everyone on board is required to train, even the maintenance crews?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What about the kitchen staff? Do they train?”
“Yes.”
“And the guys in engineering?”
“Yes. The Ranasura is a battleship. When conflict arises, we are the first sent in to handle it.”
“Kinda like the marines back home. First to fight. Last to leave.”
He nodded. “An apt description. And as you learned on the Kandovar, enemies can strike without warning. The more advanced an enemy’s society is, the more likely they are to use subterfuge.”
“Or just plain fight dirty like the Gathendiens, attacking in the middle of a damn qhov’rum.”
Again he nodded. “In one of our earliest conflicts with the Gathendiens, some of their troops managed to board one of our battleships. Many of our soldiers were off-ship in fighter craft. The soldiers still on board were outnumbered and overwhelmed. All were slain. And the civilian crew members who remained lacked the skills necessary to emerge as victors when they attempted to fight back.”
Her face sobered.
“It was the first and last time an enemy succeeded in seizing one of our ships.”
“What happened? Did you get it back?”
He ground his teeth. “No. More Segonian battleships arrived to take it back. When the Gathendiens realized they were surrounded and would not be able to hold the ship they’d seized, they flew it into another of our ships. Both were destroyed, and many lives were lost.”
Her lips tightened. “I hate those bastards.”
“As do I. But we learned from our mistakes. We still employ civilians in non-combat-related positions. But every person on this ship is required to complete a designated number of hours of combat training every week.”
“That’s smart.” She sat up straighter. “I’ll begin my own training in two days.” When he arched his brows, she smiled. “There are still a few things I want to learn first.”
“You don’t have to train, Eliana. You’re—”
“Yes, I do. The more I learn,” she stated evenly, “the more likely I am to save lives the next time shit goes down.”
Dagon had no wish to see her dive into battle, at least not until she became more familiar with the kind of battle that took place out here in space. But vuan, he respected her. “All right.”
Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “By the way, what’s the Segonian equivalent for shit? Your language guides don’t include curse words.”
He laughed. “The most common equivalent you’ll hear throughout the Alliance is bura.”
“Good. Then don’t give me any bura about being a guest and not needing to train.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Brohko interrupted them to exchange a few words with Eliana. Then another soldier did the same. And another. And another. It seemed as though half the mess hall’s occupants stopped by their table to bid Eliana good night. And she knew almost every man’s name.
Srul, even Dagon had trouble remembering a few of them, more familiar with their faces than their names.
He left her a moment to turn their trays in.
Kusgan shook his head in amazement. “Are you sure she didn’t scoop some onto your plate when you weren’t looking?”
Dagon laughed. “I’m sure.”
Eliana kept up a steady stream of conversation while he walked her to her quarters.
Silently, Dagon admired the curve of her full breasts, the unconscious sway of her hips, the enticing bow of her upper lip that nearly drove him to dip his head and steal a kiss. But he didn’t know what actions were deemed acceptable on her planet. Yes, Eliana touched him frequently, nudging him with her elbow, resting a small hand on his arm while she laughed over something he’d said just to see her smile, leaning against him when they sat beside each other on the bridge. She had even hugged him. Several times now.
However, the fact that such casual touches were acceptable didn’t mean that more intimate contact was, too. Brushing his lips against hers, for example. Slipping his tongue inside to taste and tease hers. Sliding his hands around her waist and drawing her tight against his body so she could feel how hard she made him. Peeling her clothes off layer by layer—
“You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
Blinking, he glanced down and found her regarding him curiously. “Apologies. I don’t mean to be.”
She sent him a commiserating smile. “A lot on your mind?”
A lot of her on his mind. “Yes.”
“Me, too.”
They stopped before her cabin. Eliana pressed her hand to the pad on the wall, then watched the door slide up.
She grinned. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”
So adorable. “Are your accommodations to your liking?”
“Very much so. This room is definitely swankier than the one I had on the Kandovar.”
As she turned to face him, Dagon again marveled over her size. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. Everything about her screamed delicate and fragile. But when he’d watched her swing her katana with fascinating strength and expertise…
Well. The dichotomy of it captivated him. Titillated him. And, yes, aroused him. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms and do all manner of things her people might find offensive.
Still did.
She stared up at him.
Did he imagine it, or did the air suddenly feel charged?
A faint glow entered her gaze before she lowered it. To his surprise and pleasure, she leaned in to give him another treasured hug. “Good night, Dagon.”