Notorious
"How did you find out?" Aria asked, staring straight ahead. Into the brig.
Barrow, beside her, only said, darkly, "They had trouble keeping their thoughts ... " He squinted. " ... to themselves." A breath. "So, going on what I picked up telepathically, I ran some scans, and ... " Again, he trailed. Until he finished, at a whisper, " ... they're not furs. They're human. Or they WERE. They aren't anymore, but ... "
Aria stepped forward, closer to the force-field. Whispering to the periwinkle-furred bat, "Their ship is big enough to carry more of them, but ... we only found the three. Ezri's accessing their comm records." A pause. "I need to talk with them."
"I'm not lowering the force-field," Barrow whispered back to her. "I'm staying in the room ... I can use my mind," he said, "to see if they're telling the truth or not. Aria ... "
She looked to him. And nodded gently. "Alright," she whispered, and looking back to the 'prisoners,' she asked, "Who are you?"
No answer. The three 'human-furs' just looked at her, with a sort of resigned disdain. There was a tan-colored, regular rabbit, a reddish-brown squirrel, and a rich-brown otter. A varied bunch. All looking exactly as members of those species should and would look. Except, deep inside, on the genetic level, the remnants of their humanity, enough to show up on a deep medical scan, betrayed what they really were.
"I served aboard a ship called Solstice," Aria continued, seeing she was getting little to no cooperation. "We found a human ship. We found that the crew was running experiments. They were trying to create human/furry hybrids ... only, the experiments went wrong, and the humans got transformed COMPLETELY into furs ... which, apparently, is what has happened to you." She looked them over, her icy-blue eyes darting calmly. She was not going to get frazzled by them. "You allowed yourselves to become whole-furs ... on purpose. So you could infiltrate us," she guessed. A head-tilt, and she raised her brow. "Am I close?"
Still, no answers.
But Barrow said, aloud, "Yes ... you're right."
"I guess I should've become a bat," the squirrel-human finally said. "Mind-readers, huh? Must come in handy. Must be a good party-trick."
"I don't use my abilities callously," was Barrow's response, burning beneath his blue-shaded, periwinkle fur.
The squirrel squinted and smiled, approaching the force-field. "I would," was the simple response. "Lot of things you could do ... with mind-powers. Surely, you can ... "
" ... think of your situation," Aria interrupted, wresting back control of the conversation. "Humans are ... " She trailed a bit, her eyes darting. And then focusing again. " ... humans are notoriously held in disdain by most furs," she finished. "And, judging by your attitudes, you haven't been among us," she said, "doing anything positive."
"Probably not," the otter-human muttered. "But you've already judged us, haven't you? This is a witch-hunt, isn't it? Will you believe anything we say?"
"You have said," Aria whispered, "precious little. If you wish to talk, then do it." Her ears waggled. Her bobtail flicked behind her.
"You're different," the rabbit-human said, standing, approaching the force-field, as well, nudging the squirrel-human aside. "You're a different kind of rabbit. Arctic hare?"
"Snow rabbit," she replied. "I would think that would be obvious. You are trying to change the subject."
"You're very ... alluring," the rabbit-human continued, almost touching the force-field. But not quite. "When I was a human, I ... I never imagined how SENSUAL ... one could physically feel. Until I became a rabbit." An inward breath. "Your sex drives are incredible ... " His eyes got hazy.
"Why are you here?" Aria demanded, her whiskers giving a twitch.
The rabbit-human put his paw against the force-field. A sizzling, humming sound, and he yelped in pain, withdrawing it. And, shaking his paw, frowning, he said, "You wouldn't have caught us if our engines hadn't broken down ... damn squirrel here," he said, glancing at his compatriot, "could only get us an old ship."
"It was all I could find. They were shutting down the stations, closing the borders. I couldn't be choosy."
The rabbit-human looked back at Aria. And said, tilting his head, "You've no doubt heard about the Furry Federation."
Aria squinted, her whiskers giving a singular twitch. "We used to be allies with them. But they abandoned us in our time of need." A pause. "Their government has destabilized. They're on the brink of civil war."
The rabbit nodded, winking, asking, "Wanna know why?"
Aria stayed quiet. Her bobtail flicked. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.
"Go on," the rabbit-human teased, his own bobtail flicking, and his ears moving. "Go on ... ask ... ask me," he whispered, "why. Or else I won't tell you."
Aria sighed, exchanging a glance with Barrow. And then looking back to the rabbit-human. He looked exactly like a natural-born rabbit. Those ears, those whiskers. His nose was pink, not black. He hadn't an emotional freeze, of course. He was suddenly very cocky. And he had no reason to be. So, what was he trying to do? Could he be trusted? Again, Aria exchanged a glance with Barrow, who gave no sign of reading anything telepathically amiss. And then she looked back to the prisoner, asking, in a quiet, calm tone, "Why?"
"Well, my lovely ... thing," the rabbit-human breathed. "Yes, we were humans. We were transformed ... voluntarily. To become infiltrators."
"Our changes," the otter-human said, "are permanent ... we were never going to return to our species. We were simply meant to gain all the information we could, and then send it back home ... "
"Why did you do it?" Barrow asked, crossing his winged arms. "If it was a mission of no return?"
"We had our reasons," the rabbit-human said, not letting the other two answer. Only saying, "We infiltrated the Federation, specifically ... the Home-world. But, squirrelly here ... " A pointing of his paw. " ... got sick. A bad, bad flu. Had to get hospitalized, and they ran scans, and ... they found us. There were more of us." A pause.
"Where are the rest of you?" Aria demanded. "Still in Federation space?"
"The predators," the otter-human said, casually, emotionally out of it, "didn't let the rest of us escape ... " He let the implication of that hang in the air.
Aria nodded quietly, understanding. Understanding all too well. "Why did the humans want information on the Federation? Do they wish to invade it? Take it over?"
"They just ... wanted," the rabbit-human said, "the information. We did our jobs. We didn't ask further questions. We were told the minimum ... so that, if caught, we couldn't reveal any deeper secrets."
"That is ... a logical way for infiltrators to operate," Aria conceded, and she sighed a bit, taking a step away from the force-field, turning her back on them. "I used to be an operative," she said aloud. "I worked for snow rabbit security. I went behind enemy lines ... " She stopped right there. The rest was too painful to bring up. And then she turned around, facing them again, saying, "From all appearances, it would seem you were sent to ... destabilize the Federation. It's certainly what you ended up doing, in any case."
"That was not our intention. We were not supposed to get caught," the squirrel-human said. His bushy tail flagged about. It wasn't as luxurious as a squirrel's tail should be. It hadn't been properly groomed and kept recently.
"Your superiors must've known that, eventually, one of you would slip up. That one of you would be found out. And that, soon after, the others would be uncovered, too ... "
"Perhaps," was all the squirrel-human said.
"So, I don't get it," Barrow said, injecting himself back into the conversation, his angular, swept-back ears intently listening, and his bat-muzzle scrunched up, his fangs showing. "The Federation fell apart because of you? If they killed the rest of you, and you three escaped, then ... if no one's left, what's the problem? The Federation's pretty big ... lots of words. Pretty big space ... so, why are they so ... "
"They can no longer be certain," Aria said, logically, answering the question herself, "who is a fur and who is not." Her bobtail flicked like a holy-white flame behind her. Flick.
"Yes, but the ODDS," Barrow said, his own tail, shorter, stubbier, and rudder-like, moving back and forth, "of a fur being a genetically-modified human are ... extremely slim. Very ... "
" ... slim. Obviously. But most furry species do not run on logic. Not like my species does," Aria whispered. She met the eyes of the rabbit-human. "The Federation tried to keep your uncovering a secret. But they failed?"
"Yes. It became public knowledge, and the public ... began to panic. Blood-tests were issued. Scans. But some furs wouldn't submit to them ... said it was an invasion of privacy. Anyone who didn't agree to a test was under suspicion, and even the ones that passed ... furs doubted the veracity of the tests." The rabbit-human paused. Sighed. "Furs began to look at each other and wonder ... if there was a human in their midst. Were some of their friends humans? Had family members been replaced by humans? There were only twenty of us. In the WHOLE of the Furry Federation, only twenty of us, and we were all on Home-world, but ... the damage we did." A sly, burgeoning smile. "I never anticipated that. But, yes, the chaos we caused, Miss Snow ... "
Aria squinted. "I am a Mrs. ... and my name is Aria."
"Mrs. ... who's the lucky male?"
"I will not be baited," she whispered, "or distracted ... by you. Continue talking."
"Or what?"
"Or you will get no food and water until you do ... and you will stay in this cell until you starve or dehydrate."
"You're too moral to do that," the rabbit-human insisted, squinting. "You wouldn't do that ... "
Aria, calm, collected, her freeze in place, glared intently at the prisoner. "Try me," she whispered.
The rabbit-human swallowed. Unable to match gazes with the Captain. And he stepped away from the force-field, taking a deep breath, and then nodded reluctantly, knowing he had no room to negotiate. He and his two compatriots weren't strong enough to last through a snow rabbit interrogation. "We ... well, the predators killed most of us. Three of us escaped. Us three. We were the only ones that reached the escape-point. We launched, and ... we made it out of Federation space. Somehow. We've been heading away from it for the past month. And then our engines broke down in your path, and ... well, you caught us." He spread his tan-brown paws. "End of story."
"And the Federation?" Aria said. "They are not warring," she said, postulating out loud, "over you ... you were simply used as a trigger. An excuse."
"Yes," said the otter-human, scratching his arm. "Dammit ... " A huff. "I ... I think I have fleas."
"We apply a gel medication to our napes ... every month," Aria said. "Have you had yours?"
A shake of the head.
"Then it is safe to say that you have fleas. Your friends," she said, "probably have them, as well ... " She looked to Barrow.
The bat just nodded. Only saying, "They're behind the force-field, so ... they can't spread them to the rest of us. I'll dose them later."
Aria nodded. Looking to the otter-human. "You were saying?"
The otter-human, grimacing, scratching intently, sighed and said, "The predators have resented the prey," he said, stopping the scratching (with frustration), "for years ... centuries. The prey, in recent years, have risen to equal power."
"We know," Aria said. "Believe me," she said, "we know."
"Yes, but ... the predators were just waiting for a chance. When WE were revealed, they used us as their 'smoking gun,' as it were. They claimed that prey leadership was soft. That prey values were ... softening the Federation, exposing them to invasion. They played on general fear. Insisted that, if the predators had still been in fuller power, this never would've happened. They accused prey Council members of being human." A pause. "They began to take control ... they began to exert greater influence."
"The prey resisted," Aria whispered, nodding, anticipating where this was going.
"They were angry. But the predators were angrier. They always are," the otter-human said. "At least, from I've observed ... anyway, the two sides ... all trust broke down. So, no, us 'human-furs' aren't the reason behind the Federation's ... implosion, or whatever ... it was their own fault. We posed no REAL threat. Civil unrest has been simmering through the Federation for a long, long time. It was like a powder keg. Waiting to blow. Eventually, they began losing control of their ships ... then the three ships stationed out here, they refused to go back, and ... the public lost all respect for the government. The government lost control, and things began to rapidly fall apart. With all its last power, the Council sealed the borders, seized control of all ships ... in preparation for whatever conflict was to come." A pause. "You know what happened. You kept your crew," the otter-human said, nodding at Aria, "and that made the news, I can tell you, and ... well, it's a lot more detailed than I could hope to ... to say," he whispered. "It's a long story. There's more to it."
"There always is," Aria whispered, nodding her head a bit.
The otter-human admitted, "We have no idea what's going on back there, now ... all communications are cut off. They could be slaughtering each other, for all we know. But good riddance. The Federation had it coming ... they were ... a deeply flawed organization," the otter-human said.
"We are all flawed," Aria said.
"Granted," said the otter-human, looking up. His ears cocked, and his rudder-tail rested against the floor. "But when you refuse to admit that, as the Federation did ... it becomes a fatal flaw."
Aria said nothing. She couldn't argue that.
"The bottom line," the rabbit-human said, "is that ... we're innocent." He spread his arms and paws. "The Federation is their own undoing. Whatever their ultimate fate is ... maybe it'll spread to you. War. Whatever. Who knows. But it's NOT our fault. We were just doing our jobs, and ... "
" ... your jobs," Aria interrupted, "are corrupt. Spreading fear and infiltrating ... "
" ... other societies? Other species?" the squirrel-human said. "I read about the snow rabbits and Arctic foxes. I've never met any of you, but ... you know, your species was always in the news. Always some kind of conflict. You know about war," he said. "You know what must be done."
"War is one thing," Aria said. "And, believe me, I do not relish it ... but, the last time I checked, humans were not at war with furs. You have no REASON to be here."
"We're not at war with you, no," the rabbit-human said, shaking his head. "But we WANT what you have ... your sex drives," he whispered, with clear admiration in his voice. "You know what your average human would GIVE to have sex like ... like you furs do? They would pay a lot. The money, the resources involved in being able to harness the furry genome and ... mesh it with our own. You have no idea. Your advantages in senses, too: acute hearing, wonderful sense of smell ... you're like the jackpot of sensual existence. We want those things."
"You cannot justify what you do ... with the answer of 'we want it.' You want to steal what God allotted to other species, our species, and to harvest those things, and to graft it with your own? I believe that is twisted. Surely, human existence is not so bland and pointless ... that you have to spend your whole lives wishing you were something else? You are as God intended you to be. And that should be pleasure enough."
The rabbit-human opened his muzzle to interrupt, but she didn't let him.
"You are after physical pleasure? After sensory enhancement? At OUR expense," Aria said, in steely tone. "With no consideration to how it will affect us. You are selfish," she declared. "You would harvest us and toss us aside ... for your own benefit. There is no end to what is wrong with those aims."
"To most humans," the otter-human said, "furs are nothing more than ... walking, talking animals. They don't care about your sentience. They're in denial about it. They hear about you, hear rumors ... you're just animals to them. Exotic, distant animals. To experiment on. To harvest ... for your abilities, hormones, fur. Whatever. They don't care," the otter-human insisted. "You won't convince them to stop. They'll keep trying to harvest you ... "
"Do you?" Aria asked, whispering, stepping very close to the force-field. "Do you have respect for us, as sentient beings?"
"Having lived as a fur ... having been around them, then, yes, I ... well, I have a different perspective," the otter-human admitted. "No, I ... look, I'm on YOUR side. But I have loyalties," he insisted.
"Loyalties." A pause. "So, your 'new perspective' did not stop you from doing your 'work?' You kept spying. You kept gleaning information. If you had truly come to respect us, you would not have betrayed us in such a fashion."
"And who are you loyal too, Captain? You've got us in a brig," the rabbit-human said, piping back up.
"All our encounters with your species have been vague, mysterious ... shadowy affairs," Aria whispered, squinting. "We know very little about you. Other than that you are a danger. A threat. But we," she said, "are not threat to you ... "
" ... is that so?" the squirrel-human asked. "The Federation was planning to launch an ARMADA ... to come find Earth and annihilate us. To make the first strike. A preemptive strike. Thankfully, they were stopped ... "
" ... by good furs. By FURS."
"Yes, but FURS were planning the strike in the first place ... you can't be self-righteous in this mess, Captain," the rabbit-human said. "Both sides fear each other. Both sides have misinformation." A pause. A sigh. "So, there are some good furs. Just as there are some good humans. So, what? Does it matter? We can argue semantics all day," the rabbit-human continued, "but, suffice it to say, our sides ... our species ... are too different. Both in what we are and what we have. It's like the rift between predators and prey. Humans and furs?"
"Used to," Aria whispered, "I would have agreed with that sentiment. But I have seen, in my lifetime ... my species and the Arctic foxes," she said, "healing old wounds. We went from blood-enemies to allies ... "
" ... and you could very easily," the rabbit-human whispered, "go back to being blood-enemies. Just give it a few generations. Things can change."
"Indeed," Aria whispered, "they can." A pause. "I'm not going to try and ... convince you of the moral, spiritual situations here. You should know them in your heart. And myself?" She took a breath through her nose, and then let it out as a sigh. And she looked down, and then back up, and said, "If I turn you over to the Federation, they will kill you. And, besides, they are a month away. And, right now, I can safely say I want nothing to do with the Federation," Aria said, icy-blue eyes narrowing. "They have not been in my favor ... for quite some time. Even before your capture, they could've helped us in the wasp war. They could've. They didn't. They let us fight the battle for them. At OUR cost ... " She trailed. "So, no, we won't be going back there."
Sighs of relief from the three human-furs. Movement of tails.
"If we give you to the snow rabbit High Command," she stated, "they will interrogate you. Over the past century, we've perfected our interrogation techniques ... we used them on the Arctic foxes. And we learned new techniques form them," she whispered, "when they interrogated us ... it's ... my species can be very civil and very polite, but when a snow rabbit feels threatened or in danger," she said, taking a breath, and she trailed. And then picked back up with, "My species, when threatened, will do anything to protect itself. And I believe they will feel very threatened by your presence ... the revelation of you being here," Aria said. And she sighed. Shaking her head. "They will not kill you," she assured, "but they will inflict great pain upon you ... in order to get every ounce of information your minds hold." A pause. "I can't subject you to that."
"Captain," Barrow objected. "They're dangerous ... look, if they've been infiltrating the Federation, what makes you think they haven't been or can't do the same," he argued, "with the High Command? We can't let them go ... "
Aria's head turned. "I won't turn them over."
"Captain, you ... " Barrow suddenly trailed. Aria's thoughts very loud, now, and very directed. She was meaning for the bat to pick them up. "What," he whispered, shaking head. "But ... "
"We will discuss it," Aria whispered, "in a moment. Right now, I need you to agree with me ... that news of the humans STAYS on this ship." A pause. And she looked back to them. "Alabaster will repair your engines, and we will let you go," she assured.
"Aria," Barrow whispered, still confused. Especially by what he'd read in her head.
"There are only three of them. On an old ship. They will pose no harm way out here ... perhaps they can even start new lives. Find love. Find ... something." She looked through the force-field. "Would that suit you?" she asked them, her ears waggling.
"Yes," said the otter-human, emphatically.
The squirrel-human nodded, chittering.
And the rabbit-human nodded, too, saying, "Yes, that's ... that's fine." He was quiet for a moment. "That's very generous of you."
"An act of Christian mercy," she said, "given to you ... should you use it to seek redemption or not, that is your business. But keep in mind: if you decide to take advantage of my offer, and if you get caught again ... there will be no helping you then." Her tone got quiet, got dark. "Understood?" she whispered.
Silent nods from all three.
And a heavy sigh from her, and she said, "I'll have food and drink sent to you soon ... and the doctor here will give you your flea gel. But you must excuse me ... " She turned and left, stepping out of the room, through the swishing doors, and into the corridor. "Doctor," she said.
Barrow, who'd been lingering, padded after her, and into the corridor, where he immediately went, "Why didn't you tell me Ross used to be human?!" His voice was at a whisper, but a very loud one.
"Quiet," Aria insisted, furrowing her brow. She looked around to make sure no one else was coming down the corridor.
"Why ... " The bat lowered his voice to a quieter whisper. "Aria, why didn't you tell me?"
"Why didn't you figure it out?" was her counter. "We had both assumed that ... you would, eventually, find out on your own. We didn't wish to tell you," she admitted, looking downward, her eyes darting, "because we feared your reaction. When we first came aboard, you didn't know us. You wouldn't have reacted well, but ... since then, we've befriended you ... "
A sigh from the bat. He licked at his fangs, frowning a bit. "Well ... I mean, I guess that makes sense, but ... wow, I mean ... gosh ... " He shook his head.
"You mustn't tell the others," Aria whispered, very quietly. Licking her dry lips. "Please ... "
"Well ... Bic's gonna find out. When we ... " A flush. "When we breed, we're joined. She'll find out, no matter what."
A sigh, and an understanding nod. "Then will you ask her ... not to tell anyone, either?"
"Really, Aria, is it that big a deal ... "
Aria was answering him before he could finish talking. Saying, "You've SEEN what the presence of 'human-turned-furs' has done to the Furry Federation. Panic, suspicion ... leading to a breakdown of trust ... the predators using those things to justify reckless actions. It's ... "
" ... but Ross ISN'T a spy. He's ... a victim, if anything."
"It will make no difference. Most furs will not pause to make a distinction. If the others find out there's been a former human aboard the ship ... " She trailed. Picking back up with, "I do not want my species, or the High Command," she said, "to fall apart as the Federation has done. I do not want ... "
" ... Aria ... "
" ... them to know. Barrow," she pleaded. "Please ... " Her eyes were delicate. "Please," she whispered. A sigh, her eyes darting, her ears waggling. "He's put it behind him. He's buried it. I ... it's going to be trouble enough having these human-furs aboard. It'll bring back memories for him, but ... if anyone finds out about HIM, then ... he won't be able to shake the stigma that comes with it. We have a son. A family. We're ... in love," she whispered, drawing in a breath. "He's put his past behind him. Just as I," she insisted, "have put my past behind me ... we both have unwieldy histories. But, during the past year or so, we've ... since we came together," she whispered, "we've healed." Her bobtail flicked quietly.
Barrow met her eyes, biting his lip.
"I do not want old wounds to be reopened. It is no one's business but our own ... it is a private matter."
Barrow nodded gently, voice still quiet. "I understand." And a friendly, honest smile. "I'll keep it a secret, okay? So will Bic. I just ... in the future, you can trust me, okay, if you need to come to someone? I'm a doctor. I delivered your baby, Aria." He put his paw on her shoulder. "Doctor/patient confidentiality and all that. It's part of my oath. So ... if Ross needs help to deal with any of it, I ... tell him to come to me. I can use my telepathy to help him. Seriously."
"Thank you." An eye-smile.
"You're welcome ... " A bigger smile from him. But the smile faded as he looked back to the door of the brig-room. And he withdrew his paw from her arm. "So, we're letting them go, then?"
"Yes."
The bat looked back to the snow rabbit, pressing, "How much of that has to do ... with your husband having formerly been a human?"
Aria tilted her head. "Are you saying my judgment is affected? Impaired?"
"I'm saying it's influenced. Are you going to deny that?"
"No ... I am not," she said, her whiskers giving a twitch or two. "Captain Advance ... showed mercy to Ross. He did not turn him over to the authorities. And, because of that, I have a husband and a son. I have love. And a much stronger faith." A pause. "I am going to let those humans go ... they are furs in every sense of the word, now. Their change is permanent. They will simply have to be avoid deep medical scans. But if they can live and ... heal and love, and ... I owe them that much. It was given to Ross. And I will give it to them. It is the right thing to do."
"That's very ... Christian," the bat said, smiling, tilting his head, "of you."
An eye-smile. And a head-tilt of her own.
"But you know, right, that ... if someone else catches them, they won't be so lenient. Not all snow rabbits are like you, you know. Not all snow rabbits are like the ones on this ship. They'll have to find a world around here to settle on ... and do it without breaking down and getting caught again ... "
"I am well aware of that. Hence my warning to them ... NOT to get caught. To stay in the background. Blend in. They'll have to let go of their human loyalties, but ... I will give them a chance, at least. I have had enough, in these past years, of wars and intrigues. I will not start a 'human panic' or a cold war ... by making their presence known." She sighed, and then padded away, stopping, turning. "Thank you, Barrow."
"It's not a problem," Barrow assured, spreading his winged arms in a bat gesture of openness.
She eye-smiled at that. And waggled her ears. "Give them their flea gel ... and ensure they have food and drink. I plan on getting them off the ship by tomorrow morning. The sooner," she said, "the better." Arctic hadn't yet reached the snow rabbit home-world, so they were stationary in the main traffic lane that ran, now, between the snow rabbit home-world and the Arctic foxes' new world. The longer they just sat here, the bigger the chance that a passing ship would stop to 'offer assistance,' and the greater the likelihood of someone finding out about all this.
"Will do," Barrow said, and he went back into the brig-room.
Aria let out a breath, and tapped her comm-badge. "Ross," she called.
A chirrup. And the meadow mouse's light, squeaky voice responding with, "Yeah? Aria?"
"Yes. I was wondering ... if you are okay?"
"Yeah," was the gentle reply. "Yeah, I just rocked Sterling to sleep. I was ... gonna cook us supper. It's 'food processor' night in the mess hall, so I don't have to cook the meal tonight. So, I can cook just for us," was his bright declaration. "Like, a romantic, uh ... evening, and ... stuff." She could sense his ears turning rosy-pink.
She smiled, reaching the nearest lift. The doors swished open, and she stepped inside, not activating the controls yet. Simply saying, over the comm., "You heard about our ... visitors?" she said.
"Yeah, they ... they're human ... " A pang of something in his voice.
"Yes. I'm going to repair their ship and let them go ... but we can talk about it tonight. It will be okay," she assured. A breath. "What are you making for supper?" she asked.
"Uh ... well, pasta, for the main part," he said.
"That sounds good." Another pause. "Ross?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
She could almost hear his smile, if that were possible. "I love you, too ... "
"I'm coming back to our quarters," she said. "I'm done with my duties for the day. See you in a minute?"
A squeak. "Alright," he said. "I'll be waiting ... "
Aria eye-smiled, activating the lift. Knowing that she had someone waiting for her. And that was a heart-lifting kind of feeling. A feeling she never hoped to lose. For, oh, but love did feed the soul!