Page 19 of Argurma Warrior (The Argurma Chronicles #1)

K aylar shifted the weight of the large box in his arms as he made his way from the elevator to Meg’s quarters. He processed that she was ill at ease, especially when he was not there. He hoped that his calculations were accurate and that these human holiday ornaments would give her some relief when he was not there in the latter half of the day.

He should be spending more of the daylight period out working on the ship, but he disliked the idea of distressing her all day with his absence and then, come nightfall, then dragging her down into the bowels of the laboratory that obviously terrified her. He acknowledged that it was a weakness—another sign of his decline as his malfunction progressed—but one he accepted. He refused to damage her any further than he had, or would be forced to, in the future.

It did not change the fact, however, that he had to spend a long part of the day repairing the ship and leaving her alone, safely locked within the laboratory. Although they needed to continue salvaging supplies, they had made good progress yesterday and there was still plenty of wire in their accumulating supplies for him to continue working on the repairs to the systems’ access tunnel. He calculated that it did no damage to his timeframe to place her mental welfare before any other demands upon them. Salvaging could wait for a day while he assisted her, however she may require. The ornaments he carried made her smile and brought her comfort and that was his prime priority at the moment.

It was utterly absurd and his handler would be ready to pop implants if he witnessed it. It was therefore beneficial that no one was privy to his actions at the moment.

Stopping in front of her door, he slammed the side of his fist into the door to announce his presence while maintaining a precise calculation of the force he exerted so as to not damage the door with his greeting. Smaller, softer species tended to frown on that from what he recalled. Unfortunately, his calculation was off. He winced at the small dent his fist left and, at the sound of her hurried approach, stepped back a pace, setting the box between him and the door to appear as inoffensive as possible.

“What the fuck?” The door opened upon that harried exclamation and Meg peered up at him, her breathing slightly labored indicating that she had run to the door and brow furrowed in an expression of confusion. “Kaylar? Is something wrong?”

She brushed a hand over the soft cap of sheered filaments covering her head as she blinked up at him, bleary-eyed, a flush of sleep lingering on her face. He had clearly woken her. Though it doubted it was the first time he had woken her given their schedule, it was the first time he had seen her buffed with the softer, warmer appearance slumber lent her. She wasn’t even wearing her body armor but rather wore a loose pair of sleeping pants and a thin, white sleeveless shirt that did little to conceal her breasts or the dark imprint of her nipples lifting the material. For a moment, he was startled at how enticing they appeared as if straining eagerly, begging to be touched. He struggled to recall if females were said to find pleasure from such touches. Since he had been determined since reaching full physical maturity to escape his mother’s meddling by following the path of an elite warrior, he knew little of things that pertained to mating since those of his path seldom mated.

His tore his gaze away and returned his focus to her face, disconcerted with his lack of knowledge in this area. Her eyebrow raised expectantly and he blinked back at her, his processors briefly failing him for the first time. What had she asked?

The reason for his presence.

He lifted the box in his arms and bit higher to draw Meg’s attention to it and she glanced down, her expression shifting quickly to one of surprise.

“You brought up the ornaments!”

Shifting on his feet, Kaylar blew out a long breath as his vibrissae puffed up around him in agitation. Why did she sound surprised? Should he not have? Was there a signal that he missed that indicated she wished to do it on her own? That seemed highly illogical since the box was heavy and unmanageable for a female of her comparable size.

“You did not desire them?” he returned flatly, his head cocking with his inquiry.

Her cheeks pinkened as she glanced away, focusing on some spot to the left of him. His mandibles clicked in irritation, wanting her attention back on him and, to his satisfaction, the sound had that result. Her cheeks darkened further but she held his gaze as she cleared her throat.

“Of course. I just didn’t expect you to haul them all the way up here. You don’t really make a point to come anywhere near my room,” she added, which made him rattle a puzzled sound from his chest. “You just call me to come down for anything you may need. A box of ornaments hardly seems like something worth your effort to bring up. I would have eventually gotten them.” He eyed her lips as they twisted in a grimace.

Once again, he was off balance and uncertain, a heaviness settling deep within him—something that tugged at him with a sensation he processed to possibly be disappointment. “Do you not desire my assistance?”

Her gaze snapped up from the box, her pupils expanding slightly as she met his eyes with another look of surprise.

“Did you… want to?”

His vibrissae twitched around his shoulders, the ends lifting and settling helplessly.

“I calculated that it would be a beneficial use of time to organize your quarters into a place conducive to your mental health while I am making repairs.” He shifted his weight. “There is still much to be done,” he added so that she would not miscalculate their progress, “but we have acquired a satisfactory amount of cord and wiring for repairs that I am still conducting. I have allotted this time to assist you before returning to the Degarath.”

Her mouth rounded slightly, her brows lifting. “I see.”

Noting that she did not immediately move out of his way and admit him, his mouth flattened in frustration. She was still looking at him expectantly and he huffed.

“And… I would like to see to your comfort,” he gritted out.

“My comfort,” she echoed. Her head tipped as she squinted speculatively up at him. “So it’s a matter of duty.”

His claws dug into the box, his vibrissae twisting around him. He did not understand the point of her line of questioning. Why did it matter?

“No,” he growled. “These ornamentations made you happy and I process that I like that. They are visually appealing on their own but do not compare to your smile upon seeing them. I wish to be a part of that.”

A smile broke out across her face making her cheeks round as she beamed at him. “I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me!”

He absolutely could not process that and stared at her blankly until she gripped his forearm and tugged him forward. It was? He did not possess gentle or poetic speech that many softer species valued. He calculated the humans were of similar disposition and so her claim seemed hardly likely. There was something…sad… about it, if she spoke truthfully.

“Well, come on in,” she chirped. “I know you’ve got a lot to do today, so we might as well get to it. This is going to be so much fun! I haven’t decorated with anyone for… well, a lot of years,” she chuckled.

He murmured a wordless agreement as he allowed himself to be dragged inside, that simple contact stirring a sense of warmth within him, once again. This time, however, it penetrated deeper within him than ever, making him crave that feeling in a way unlike he ever wanted anything before.

Meg looked rapidly from left to right, her finger tapping on her tightly pursed lips as she surveyed the room. “Just put the box on the bed, I think. The side table looks a little small and that will give us plenty of room to spread out without having to do it on the floor.”

Her cheeks colored again and she made a tiny choking sound before clearing her throat and hurrying ahead of him. Kaylar followed after her, puzzled by her odd behavior, but set the box on the bed where she directed. Straightening, he stepped back, and in doing so gave her sufficient room to slide in beside him and begin pulling things from the box. Everything looked so delicate that he hesitated to assist in this part, unwilling to damage any of the ornaments she so enjoyed with his large hands. Instead, he watched with interest as delicately spun glass balls of brightly painted hues and small figures hanging from hooks were drawn out among numerous garlands. Among them there was one glass ball he itched to touch. Deep blue, it contained within its depths numerous sparks like tiny pricks of light that reminded him of the starry vastness of space.

Curling his fingers into fists to resist the urge, he stepped back further. He was not made for gentle, delicate things. He calculated a high probability of breaking it if he dared. Unfortunately, the motion attracted Meg’s attention and she glanced back at him, her eyebrows rising upon noting the distance between them.

“Kind of difficult to help from back there,” she observed with amusement and she chuckled, this sound sliding through him like a warm current.

“I miscalculated,” he muttered as his gaze scanned the items laid out on the bed in front of them. “I will damage your ornaments. I am a warrior. I was not engineered to be compatible with such things.”

Her lips pursed but her expression appeared thoughtful rather than upset, relieving him greatly. “Are you telling me that you’ve never handled a fragile piece of weaponry or something you’ve been sent to get? Everything you touch is encased in metal?”

He gave her a disgruntled look. The suggestion was absurd and by the way her lips curved, he processed that she was aware of it.

“There have been data cubes and encrypted chips, but everything I am sent to retrieve, I am provided a secure case to put them in. The transference to the case requires minimal contact and even then, there is considerable concern that I may miscalculate my grip on the item and cause damage to them.”

Her smile returned and her eyes sparkled with a captivating warmth. “Okay, but see, this is not so serious. If you break an ornament, so what? It’s not the end of the world. This is all just for fun and honestly just doing this with you will make me happier than preserving a single one of these decorations.” A wistful look briefly crossed her face, overshadowing her look of happiness. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do something like this.” Her smile brightened. “Having someone to do with is the best part of it and is what makes it all so special.”

He hesitantly edged closer, his eyes going once more to the ornaments and decoration. He did not quite trust her calculations but admitted to experiencing a firing through his processors with the permission she granted him. Reaching forward, he plucked up the glittering ornament and held it up, pausing when she leaned forward to peer at it with interest.

“Oh! That’s pretty! It’s just like a night sky,” Meg observed enthusiastically, making the corners of his mouth turn up.

“It is,” he agreed. “It is not an exact facsimile as it ought to be black instead of deep blue but it is a satisfactory approximation that communicates it sufficiently.”

Her eyes lifted to his face. “You miss it, don’t you? Being out there, I mean.”

He blinked, caught once more off guard by the small female. “An Argurma is discouraged from showing attachments as it demonstrates one’s malfunctions. An elite warrior absolutely does not develop attachments.”

“Okay,” Meg drawled with a small laugh, her eyebrows raising once more. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you do.”

“I do,” he grunted in agreement, his claws lightly skimming over the ornament. “It is home. Degarath and the stars.”

She hummed softly to herself as she picked up a long sparkling red and gold garland, winding it up into her arms. “It must be a special sort of hell for you to be stuck on Earth, then.”

He chuffed. She was quite observant. “It is unpleasant. Especially the sand. Argurumal has much sand, and it never fails to get everywhere. Space is a fortunate reprieve far from any and all sand. Except, following repairs, I process that I will be finding sand in Degarath for many cycles,” he grimly added.

Apparently, Meg found that point amusing because she chuckled as she stepped away from the bed with her armload.

“With that hole and sitting on a beach, I have little doubt of that. Even without a huge hole just being anywhere near sand is an invitation for it to invade,” she acknowledged. “Now grab a few more ornaments and that long string of lights and follow me this way. I have a great idea of where we can start.”

Clicking his mandibles curiously, he set out to do as she asked. Although it was clear that Meg had emotional attachments to decorating that he did not possess, her own longing for it incited an eagerness and thrill within him. Removing the items she desired, he followed after her, curious as to what she had in mind, a hunger for the experience settling with him. And another hunger that delved deeper that he refused to examine too closely.

It was good to create these experiences while he had the opportunity. That was all.