Star Zaraki:
August 27, 2025
07:30 EST
The Autumn
The Straits of Florida: 23˚52’31” N-81˚17’45” W
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The next morning, Cayro was still sound asleep when I entered his room. His last message lingered in my thoughts, filling me with a cautious hope that exploring these feelings might not be a mistake. I wanted to wake him up so we could spend more time working on my skycar together—he seemed to enjoy that, and I certainly enjoyed his company. But the Captain had other plans, requesting to see him first thing, which meant my plans would have to wait.
I used my access code to open his door and quietly padded over to his bed. He was sprawled out on his back, looking peaceful, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.
Placing a knee on the edge of his bed, I leaned over him until our faces were just inches apart. "Cayro? Caaaay-roooo?" I whispered, letting my hand graze his cheek in an attempt to gently wake him. The instant our skin touched, that familiar dark presence in my mind began to stir, urging me to touch him more. Unlike the smooth planes of his back and hips, his jawline had a light dusting of whiskers that tickled my fingertips. It was intriguing, and I found myself liking the roughness of it.
"Hey, Star, you know it’s only seven-thirty in the morning, right?" Desiree’s voice called out from the hallway. She must have noticed the open door as she passed by. "He had a pretty long day yesterday between helping you with the skycar, your little argument, and his talk with the Captain. He’s probably still wiped out."
"I know, but the Captain wants to see him right away," I replied softly, not wanting to wake him too abruptly.
"Oh, okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later. I’m still reconfiguring my skycar controls that John messed up," she muttered as she continued down the hall. Desiree, the head mechanic aboard the Autumn, was a short, stout woman with long dark brown hair she always kept in a braid, and soft brown eyes that belied the fierce determination beneath. She was a stickler for detail and had zero tolerance for anyone who messed up the skycars—or the Autumn itself, for that matter. I was a bit surprised she hadn’t given Cayro a piece of her mind about the skycar. I’d seen her fling wrenches at people who really screwed up, and she was the one who taught me how to throw them with precision.
This wasn’t the first time John had messed up a skycar. I could only imagine the Captain’s reaction when he heard about it, not to mention the fit Desiree would throw. Last time, she’d dented a wall in the hangar when she hurled a large wrench at John. Standing at six feet tall, John was a well-built, muscular man with light brown hair, kind blue eyes, and a knack for getting himself into trouble, especially when it came to anything involving computers. The skycar incident was just the latest example—he’d turned a simple diagnostic request from the Captain into a colossal mess.
Returning my focus to Cayro, I continued to stroke his cheek, coaxing him out of sleep. Leaning even closer, until our faces were just a breath apart, I softly called his name again. His face held my attention, and my eyes traced the angular lines of his features. Remembering what he’d said yesterday about me being the first woman he’d seen nearly naked made my heart race. The thought that I’d shared something with him that no one else had made me feel a strange mix of pride and vulnerability. My gaze drifted to his lips, recalling how they felt against my fingertip. A new thought crossed my mind, unbidden—what would it be like to kiss him? He would be my first.
At that moment, his eyes fluttered open, catching me off guard. My thoughts came to a screeching halt as I suddenly found myself losing balance. In a reflex, Cayro bolted upright, nearly butting heads with me, but instead, he slammed his head on the bunk above. I winced as I saw his eyes water from the pain, his expression caught between annoyance and surprise.
"What were you trying to do? Kiss me?" he growled, his voice strained from the sharp pain.
"No… The Captain wants to see you," I lied quickly, sliding off his bed and putting some distance between us.
"Umm, Star, next time, could you maybe try a different approach to wake me up?" he asked, his tone softening as if trying to make up for the earlier growl.
"Okay," I mumbled, more to myself than to him, before swiftly walking out of his room. As I left, I heard him sigh, a sound that lingered in the hallway behind me.
Walking down the corridor, I couldn’t help but replay the moment in my mind. Why was he so upset about the way I woke him up? Maybe it was the shock of being woken up so abruptly, or perhaps he was just embarrassed. I realized I didn’t really know how to act around him or even how to talk to him. He was my age, but everything about him felt different from the rest of the crew. I was so used to everyone being older, more mature, and having their ways of doing things. I knew how to be an adult, but being around Cayro made me acutely aware that I didn’t know how to just be a teenager. Cayro might technically be an adult at eighteen, but he still had that raw, untamed energy of someone my age, making him feel like a puzzle I couldn’t quite solve.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll try a different approach, I thought, forming a plan in my head. A one-and-a-half-inch wrench might do the trick. Cold metal against the skin is an excellent way to wake someone up with a jolt. Maybe then he wouldn’t complain about my methods. I made a mental note to stash the wrench in the freezer later. Satisfied with my plan, I stepped onto the bridge, where I found the Captain reviewing an email for a new job request while lounging in my chair.
"Captain?" I asked, stepping forward.
"Star, how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Andrew," he griped, turning to look at me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What are you plotting?" he asked, already seeing through me.
"Cayro got mad at me for waking him up because he hit his head on the upper bunk," I explained, giving him a sly grin.
"Oh boy… Do I even want to know what you have in mind for him?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly wary.
"Not unless you want to be woken up in the same manner," I replied with a grin, enjoying the playful banter.
"I’d rather not… Go help Desiree fix her skycar. John really messed up the flight system."
As I turned to leave, Nick, our ship’s tech guru, walked up to speak with the Captain. His gaze immediately locked onto me, his hazel eyes narrowing in that way that told me he was already reading my mood. Nick was one of the few people who could read me like a book, and he didn’t miss much. His thin face, framed by wire-rimmed glasses, had a pale complexion that contrasted sharply with his perfectly styled medium-length white-blond hair. He always looked like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine, with his fancy sweaters, slacks, and loafers, making him stand out among the more casually dressed crew. Despite his appearance, Nick was far from fragile—he’d been with the crew for nearly a decade, after a job that had nearly landed him in prison. He never talked much about it, but it was clear the experience had shaped him. Over the years, he’d taken on multiple roles, including putting together the crew’s official magazine and working as our public affairs officer during events and dignitary transports. Despite his polished exterior, Nick had a mischievous streak, and if I ever needed a partner in crime to get payback against a crew member, he was the first person I’d go to.
"What’s wrong, Star?" he asked, his crisp British accent cutting through my thoughts.
Everyone on the bridge looked up as we stood there, the atmosphere tense with curiosity.
"Don’t worry about it," the Captain said sharply, his tone making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for any nonsense as Cayro walked onto the bridge.
"Ooooh… What did you do to our Star?" Nick chuckled, flashing Cayro a devious grin that made me want to strangle him.
I shot Nick a withering glare before turning my eyes on Cayro. My mood was rapidly souring, and all I wanted was to escape to the hangar before these idiots ruined my day entirely.
"Damnit, Nick, I said don’t worry about it!" The Captain growled, his voice laced with warning. Even Nick flinched at that.
Letting out a low growl of frustration that I knew everyone could hear, I turned on my heel and stalked off the bridge.
"Nice, Nick, you just pissed her off," I heard Desiree grumble as she walked past me, heading toward the bridge. "Let me guess. I just missed her growl, didn’t I?" she remarked, her voice full of exasperation.
"Yep, she’s on her way to the hangar bay now," I heard the Captain reply with a hint of resignation.
"Damn boy, you’re bad with the ladies, aren’t you?" Nick quipped, clearly ignoring the tension from Desiree and the Captain. I leaned against the bulkhead just outside their line of sight, arms crossed, listening in on their conversation. I watched as Desiree turned toward Nick and landed a solid punch to his side, causing him to double over with a groan.
"Cayro, go after her!" she growled, not giving him a chance to protest.
"But I need him," the Captain objected, though it was clear his heart wasn’t in it.
"It can wait," Desiree snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument. She stormed off the bridge in my direction, catching my eye as she passed and giving me a quick wink. A silent acknowledgment that she had my back.
"Fine," the Captain conceded with a sigh. "Go on, Cayro."
I waited in the corridor for him, watching as he approached, rubbing the back of his head. A look of exasperation was etched across his face, and I couldn’t help but notice the red mark across the top of his forehead where he had hit the upper bunk. Maybe the bed’s revenge was enough for his attitude this morning. I would have to think about it.
"Hey… Star, I’m sorry," he said, his voice sincere.
I dropped my gaze from his forehead and met his eyes. They were the dull blue again, not the vibrant emerald I was starting to adore. Hmm… maybe I would shelve the wrench idea, but I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook just yet.
"I didn’t mean to upset you," I said meekly, allowing a few tears to form in my eyes, playing my part perfectly.
His eyes widened in shock, clearly caught off guard. "I’m really sorry, Star!" he exclaimed, his tone desperate. And just like that, he fell for it—hook, line, and sinker. He let out a sigh and looked down, reaching out to me. Gently, he brushed the tears from my cheeks with his thumb, smiling softly. His touch, that simple, tender gesture, made me break character. Something in my heart stirred as his thumb brushed my skin, and I found myself questioning what it was about him that made me feel so vulnerable yet so connected.
"Um, would you give me a tour of the Autumn?" he asked softly, his voice almost tentative.
Without thinking, I took his wrist in my hand and guided it back to my cheek, leaning into his palm. The warmth of his calloused hand against my face was unexpectedly comforting. Cayro had managed to derail my plans for revenge with nothing more than a simple smile and touch. It was something I hadn’t anticipated, and it left me feeling more confused than ever.
"Sure," I replied, looking up into his eyes. They had shifted back to that striking emerald green, causing my heart to skip a beat. The dark presence in my head purred in delight, letting out a low growl that echoed in my thoughts, "Yes!"
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For the next hour, I showed Cayro around the Autumn, making sure to avoid the bridge and everyone else on the ship. The last thing I wanted was to deal with the crew’s prying questions or explain why I had been upset earlier. They couldn’t help but stick their noses into what was going on between me and Cayro, and that only made me more determined to keep our interactions private. Despite everything, Cayro did his best to cheer me up, sensing that something still bothered me. And honestly, it wasn’t just what happened on the bridge; it was the way the crew seemed intent on inserting themselves into whatever was developing between us. Couldn’t they just let us figure it out on our own?
I finally led him to the galley, which was located across from the crew lounge. It was the last stop on the ship that he hadn’t seen yet, and I could feel the gnawing of hunger beginning to make itself known. The galley was massive. The hangar was the largest part of the ship, but the galley easily claimed the second spot. Several tables were arranged next to the kitchen area, leaving the rest of the room wide open. During the tour, at some point, I had laced my fingers with his as we walked side by side. It felt natural, like finding a missing piece of a puzzle I hadn’t realized I was working on. I wasn’t sure why I did it, but it felt… right. As we reached the kitchen, I let go of his hand, though a part of me missed the connection instantly. He stood by the kitchen island, watching me open a set of cabinets.
"In the morning, we have to fend for ourselves unless the Captain decides he wants a group breakfast," I explained, pulling out my favorite cereal along with two bowls.
"Does anyone actually cook during the day?" he asked, his tone curious as he observed the space.
"Yeah. Usually, it’s John and Nathan who handle lunch and dinner. The Captain and Ms. Tiffany help out sometimes too," I replied, pouring cereal and milk into the bowls.
"Ms. Tiffany is the XO, right?" he asked, his eyes bright with interest.
"Yes, but she’s also the ship’s main medical physician. She’s the one who’s been treating you every time you’ve needed medical attention," I answered, handing him his bowl.
"Really?" he said, surprised.
"Yeah, she’s also best friends with Desiree—the woman who punched Nick earlier," I pointed out with a smirk.
He let out a short laugh. "Oh yeah, that was something. Does she do that to everyone on the crew?"
"No, mostly just Nick. They’re a couple, so she gets away with it," I laughed, enjoying the way his expression softened. "You’re lucky she hasn’t yelled at you about my skycar. She’s the head mechanic on the ship, and nobody messes with the skycars."
He grimaced at that, realizing just how close he’d come to a different kind of trouble. "So, I should count myself lucky then?" he asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the hint of concern.
"Well, if you consider nearly getting murdered by me lucky, then yeah," I said, a smirk tugging at my lips. "But if I had hit you, I’d be the one treating you, not Ms. Tiffany."
"Oh, you have medical training?" he asked, his eyebrow arching in curiosity.
"Yep, several of us do," I replied, flashing a teasing grin as I handed him a spoon.
He took his bowl and headed over to a table, where he sat down. After putting away the milk and cereal, I joined him. We ate in comfortable silence, though I could tell he was taking in every detail of the galley. His eyes soon landed on the large, heavy-looking door at the far end of the room, with chairs stacked haphazardly in front of it. From his vantage point, I knew he could see the keypad and handprint scanner mounted beside the door.
"Hey, Star, what’s behind that door?" he asked, nodding toward it.
I followed his gaze to the door, but my stomach tightened. The Captain’s words echoed in my mind, as clear as the day he’d said them: “Star, I want you to stay away from this door. There are things in here that are from the past that do not need to be revealed. If you ever go into this room, I’ll punish you, and you will be put in the brig.”
I set my spoon down, the clink against the bowl louder than it should have been. "I don’t know," I replied quietly, my voice tinged with the weight of old warnings. "The Captain had that area sealed off and told me never to go in there. If I did, he’d put me in the brig."
I was sent to the brig for an entire day once because I planted a massive firework in the Captain’s office when I was twelve. The explosion caused serious damage to his office, but that wasn’t what upset him or the crew the most. No, it was the fact that I could have caused a ship-wide fire—a disaster that could have ended with the ship exploding if the flames had reached the hydrogen systems. From that point on, I was banned from getting my hands on fireworks, and I swore I’d never return to the brig. That was also the day the Captain discovered that my ship system-wide code couldn’t be revoked or my access privileges changed. I was too deeply integrated into the ship’s systems, almost like the Autumn and I were one.
Cayro’s movement snapped me out of my reverie. He stood up and began to walk toward the door, his curiosity leading him closer to the sealed-off room. Panic flared in my chest, and I darted after him, grabbing his upper arm to stop him in his tracks.
"No, Cayro," I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument.
"I’m not going to open it; I just want to look," he explained, his tone softer, almost as if he was trying to reassure me.
But I didn’t let go. I held onto his arm, pressing myself against him, determined to keep him from getting too close to that door. As I held him close, I felt that dark presence in my mind uncurl, stretching like a beast awakened from slumber. Yet this time, Cayro’s presence grounded me, keeping the darkness at bay. The toned muscle of his arm under my grip was firm and reassuring, and I couldn’t help but think how amazing he felt. Strangely, it was as if the presence in my head agreed with me, sharing my thoughts, my feelings. It was odd—no, more than that. It was almost as if it were alive, with its own desires, its own emotions, and all of it linked to him.
Shifting my focus back to the door, I held him back from moving any closer. His eyes studied the piece of sheet metal that had been tack-welded over the room’s sign, the label long hidden from view. The Captain had ordered Nathan to weld that metal in place when I was very young, and I couldn’t remember what the sign had said before it was covered. The mystery of it lingered, but I tugged on Cayro’s arm, pulling him away from the door before curiosity could get the better of him.
"Hey Star, can we go back to the hangar? I want to look around a little bit more," he asked, his voice calm as we returned to the table where our bowls still sat. I gave him a quick nod, feeling relieved at his request. I picked up our unfinished food and took it to the kitchen, dumping the leftover contents down the drain before rinsing the bowls and placing them in the sink to be washed later.
Taking his hand in mine, I led him back to the hangar. It didn’t take us long to reach it. The hangar was the heart of the ship—its largest space, capable of holding twelve skycars. With the limited crew on board, though, we didn’t need to fill the hangar with equipment that would never see use. Instead, John often turned the space into a makeshift arena for basketball, soccer, or football games, encouraging the crew to bond outside of their duties.
As we walked into the hangar, I couldn’t help but notice how the skycars were parked. Some were close to the main entrance, each accompanied by its own toolbox, ready for action. Others were parked further back, reserved as spares or scavenged for parts. The vastness of the hangar was comforting, like a sanctuary where we could escape from the weight of the ship’s secrets, even if just for a while.
"Hey Star, I see yours and the Captain’s skycars, but who flies the other ones?" Cayro asked, his curiosity piqued as he surveyed the vehicles.
"Desiree flies that one over there," I said, pointing to a skycar painted flat black with dark mirror-tinted windows. It looked like it had seen better days, with cables hanging out of the door. No wonder she was so pissed earlier. That must be the one John had messed up. I spotted her halfway inside it, trying to undo whatever damage he’d done.
"And Tiffany flies that one," I added, gesturing to the skycar parked next to the Captain’s. Both skycars were nearly identical, with the same blood-red and forest-green trim as the Autumn, only distinguished by their tail numbers. My own skycar was parked on the opposite side of the Captain’s, a midnight blue with metallic specks and silver trim, standing out among the rest, which were a more standard light gray, like military jets. Some had crew names on them, while others were blank—spare vehicles, mostly. All except one. It was painted a stark white with a black tail fin, emblazoned with the emblem of a cat’s head in the center.
"Hey Star, who flies that one over there?" Cayro asked, pointing to the white skycar.
"No one. It’s broken," I explained. "We’ve tried to fix it, but something’s off with the operating system. The whole thing’s coded with a protective algorithm that no one can crack. We were going to strip it for parts, but my father suggested we leave it alone. He thinks it might be connected to the missing software the ship needs," I added, shrugging my shoulders.
"Oh, that’s kind of odd," he remarked, a hint of intrigue in his voice.
"I suppose. My father knows more about this ship than he lets on. As I’ve said before, I grew up on this ship. So, what you find strange is just another normal day for me," I replied, offering a small smile.
Cayro nodded, just as the Captain’s voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting us. He ordered the entire crew to report to the bridge immediately for a meeting. Desiree slid out from under her skycar, giving the intercom a glare before walking past us, muttering something about beating John over the head with her multimeter. I couldn’t help but smirk at that. Grabbing Cayro’s hand, I pulled him toward the bridge, a warm feeling settling in my chest as our fingers intertwined.
When we reached the bridge, I found the Captain lounging in my chair, a sight that made my blood simmer just a little. The rest of the crew was scattered around the upper part of the bridge, chatting quietly among themselves. As soon as we stepped onto the bridge, their conversations ceased, and every eye turned toward us. The Captain spun around in the chair, his eyes lighting up with a grin that was too wide to be innocent. That’s when it hit me—I was still holding Cayro’s hand. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment, and I gripped his hand tighter when he tried to pull away, as if letting go would somehow expose me even more.
"Captain?" Nathan’s deep voice broke the silence, laced with that wicked curiosity he was known for.
"Yes, what is it?" the Captain replied, his tone betraying his amusement.
"Am I seeing what I think I am?" Nathan asked, his voice dripping with mischief.
"Yes, Nathan, I think we’re all seeing it," the Captain confirmed, his grin widening into a full-blown Cheshire cat smile.
I swallowed hard, the weight of everyone’s gaze pressing down on us. There was no turning back now—Cayro and I were caught in the spotlight, and the crew wasn’t going to let us off easy.
The Captain finally stood, addressing the crew with his usual authority. "We’re headed to San Antonio to pick up Doctor H. M. Zaraki. You all know him. We’re going to need his help to install the C Drive. As you’re aware, he was one of the original engineers of this ship, so I expect you to show him the respect he deserves while he’s on board. Is that understood?" he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"Roger!" Everyone said in unison, their voices blending into a chorus of readiness.
The Captain turned to face Cayro and me. "Star, I want you and Cayro to act as our escort and keep watch over us in the air once we arrive. Since we’ll be in Texas, I don’t anticipate any problems, but I’d rather have you up there just in case. I want you to train Cayro on how to fly a skycar. He is officially your new co-pilot," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for debate.
I felt my face drop, and my stomach twisted in knots. I had never had a co-pilot, nor had I ever wanted one. Flying was my sanctuary, my escape. Having someone else in the cockpit felt like an intrusion, even if that someone was Cayro.
"Understood, Sir," I grumbled, barely able to mask my irritation, before turning to leave.
"Oh, and Star… You’re starting to thaw out," the Captain added with a chuckle, his words laced with amusement.
A ripple of laughter spread through the crew, and I felt my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. I caught Cayro’s surprised look out of the corner of my eye. Without saying a word, I tugged at his hand, dragging him out of the bridge and back toward the hangar.
"What was that all about?" he asked shyly, trying to keep up with my brisk pace.
"I don’t want to talk about it," I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. My mind was still reeling from the Captain’s orders. We’d have to use a different skycar since mine was still undergoing repairs, adding to my frustration.
Once we were back in the hangar, I let go of Cayro’s hand, feeling the dark presence in my head growl in displeasure at the loss of contact. As the fog of irritation began to clear, I guided him through the preflight inspection on one of the other skycars. We moved in near silence, our earlier camaraderie now tinged with tension. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I ran through the flight gauges. He got into the co-pilot seat and fastened his seat restraints, his eyes scanning the controls with a mix of curiosity and determination. Despite my reluctance, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride as he quickly familiarized himself with the advanced system.
"We had to install a different radio system that could be encrypted," I explained when I noticed his surprise at the separate setup. "The original system was fine for standard flight communication, but because it’s intertwined with the Autumn’s software, we couldn’t enable the encryption system. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s another piece missing due to the C Drive."
"Jeez… If I had known the Autumn was such a mess when it came to its software, I wouldn’t have cared so much about seeing it," he said nonchalantly, clearly unaware of how his words stung.
I shot him a glare, my pride wounded. "Thanks for calling my home a piece of junk," I muttered, my voice laced with indignation.
"That’s not what I meant," he quickly replied, backpedaling.
"I get it. My home has some issues, but before you try to explain yourself, stop while you’re ahead. You’ll just end up ruining the nice day we’re having," I growled, turning back to my controls. I needed to focus—this was a mission, after all, and I couldn’t afford distractions.
As I tapped into the interface, downloading my skycar settings from the Autumn’s database, I felt my usual focus and determination take over. This mode had always helped me keep everything in line during a mission. Even though I wasn’t thrilled about sharing the cockpit, I knew what the Captain wanted. I reconfigured the controls to accommodate a co-pilot, something I had never done before, and it took a few extra minutes to adjust.
I went over the controls with Cayro, and he quickly absorbed the information, impressing me with his ability to adapt. He found the joystick that controlled the two machine guns under the skycar, his eyes lighting up at the design. Despite my earlier irritation, I couldn’t help but smile a little, seeing his excitement.
"I’m ready to go when you are," he announced, his voice steady with anticipation.
I hit the ignition switch, and the hydrogen engines roared to life, filling the hangar with a deep, resonant growl that vibrated through every surface. I glanced at Cayro, a small smile tugging at my lips as I verified the systems. This was where I thrived, and even with the added complication of a co-pilot, I was ready.
"Call the bridge and inform them that we’re ready for takeoff," I ordered, my voice flat and focused. This was the side of me that handled missions with precision, the side that didn’t let emotions cloud judgment. I listened as Cayro called the bridge, asking for permission to take off while I taxied the skycar to the elevator that would take us to the sky deck for launch.