Techi on File

[Thyris]

Nalgask Café: transmitter terminal; Scrijx Citi, Zerca

In his mind, Thyris knew that this was going to be one of his worse decisions. In fact, the only reason he was finally typing up the form was because he needed to get away from his esteemed Uncle. Truly, concern for blood relation needn’t stretch to every day health habits.

He scowled, scrawling his name across the terminal’s signature screen before hitting the send button. If he was to become a master in mechanics, he might as well do it in style on a well off Family’s ship. Not only would the security block the overbearing man, but also he’d heard rumors of the ship.

The Aiedail was considered a Merchant class, but one look at the blueprints during a meeting he was sitting through with Uncle Jierda had shown the hybrid differently. Exterior aside, the thing was a tenteclad consort battle cruiser! Thyris could still remember the additions that made it like a miniature batteleon. It totally bypassed the insinuation of going to war that the hulky models gave off as a vibe. If only his Uncle didn’t have to make his duties as Quaestor come first.

Still, that was a major part of why he’d been watching the ship for a vacancy. Now if only they’d get back to him soon. The preference, of course, being ‘poof’ right now. Pursing his lips, Thyris backed out of the terminal and into the café proper. There was an imported tea that he could smell from here that he’d bet his taser tasted better than any of the batshit mainland Zerca brewed.

[Arzhel]

Arzhel stretched from where he was sitting, sorting through the dozens of application forms that seems to be arriving everyday. ’Hhhm.. never thought we were that popular..’ He groaned and cracked his neck, sighing as the ache somewhat ease from it. “This is just unbelievable. I’m only hiring ONE mechanic.”

A snicker followed his comment and the image of a boy around 10-12 years of age appeared in the screen of his computer. The boy has dazzling sapphire eyes and messy locks of russet hair. “That’s what you get for being a royalty.” An impish grin settled on the child’s face as he gazed upon the ship’s Captain.

Arzhel grimaced and tapped the computer screen. “You don’t have to remind me, Aie. Zion’s already threatening me for it.” The captain grumbled at the boy. Aie, who was actually the ship’s AI system just chuckled and exited from the screen’s view.

The Captain on the other hand just rubbed his aching head and contacted another merchant ship to confirm the next applicants’ credentials.

An hour pass before the sound of the doors sliding open and closing as the person entered interrupted him. Arzhel knew there was only one person who even has the right to enter his office without announcing themselves. He looked up as a tall man walked up to his desk. He smiled at the person while the other just glared and scowled. The newcomer pushed back his hair in irritation, an astouding blod color, while the other threw a palm-size, flat-looking computer on his desk.

“I hate you.” Was the curt greeting the person gave before sitting himself on the chair that was on the other side of his desk.

“You are the one who’s going to work with them, Zion.” Arzhel smirked at the man, before going back to his own work. He didn’t need to look at the PADD (Personal Access Display Device) that was thrown to know that all of the applicants that he had approved there had been rejected. Besides, since he himself was suffering from this then so must Zion.

[Zion]

Zion scowled from his position across the desk. “Have you even looked at some of those with a thought? Military Academy hopefuls, rich boy snots, shipyard junkies who think they know what they’re doing but don’t on such a classy ship. Zerca, Azzie, the only way you’ll find someone that I –” A soft ping cut the blond off, and so he transferred his glare to the computer.

“Another applicant. Glorious indeed.” He muttered to himself, leaning back in the chair as the Zercan opened the new form. Compressing his lips, Zion dug out a wrap, lighting it with a quick flick and proceeded to stare at the ceiling as it burned with time.

“Honestly,” he said around the paper, “I really should just let you deal with the mess. ‘Work with them’ indeed. Should just choose a pretty one to take my frustrations out on. At least then they’d know how to hold a wrench.”

[Arzhel]

Arzhel just smirked behind his computer while reading the file of the new applicant. “I didn’t know that the work I gave you was depriving you, Zion. You know…” A slow impish though quite diabolical grin made its way on Arzhel’s lips. “…Kiori has been—“

“No.” was the immediate response. Arzhel snickered and he could feel Zion’s glare boring through the computer and resting on him. “I’d rather go celibate thank you very much.”

Arzhel just continued snickering, though he stopped as he continued reading the applicant’s form. “Well, this surely is interesting…” He swung the screen to face Zion and let the man read it. “How about him?”

He waited for the other humanoid to finish reading before looking at him in question. “You’re coming with me.”

Arzhel blinked in surprise before managing to reply, “But—“

“Yes.” Zion’s glare made him shut his mouth.

Arzhel sighed in resignation before shutting off the screen. “Very well.”

[Zion]

Standing with a stretch, Zion turned to the hologram of Aie. “Where did this… Thyris send it from, and where is he currently stationed at?” Not waiting for the AI to start, he transferred a copy of the application to the handheld. By the time it finished loading, a map popped up on the both screens, with Aie blowing a raspberry before disappearing.

“Let’s go. You’re wired friend has a vague outlook if he moves, so we’d better get going. After all, if he gets back to wherever it is he’s living at we won’t find him.” He told Arzhel, already tugging on his jacket.

Minutes later he was walking towards the café noted, and glanced at the Captain. “This kid’s credentials are something, and it’s not so much what’s on there as not. The only true assessment of a good mechanic is if they pass both up close proof, and if they know how to say nothing within everything. You might be Captain of your little tin can, but prepare yourself to be shocked anyway.”

Pausing before the entrance, Zion snubbed the wrap out on the concrete before opening the door. He noted the pause, irregular stillness and odder quietness in the Zercan, wondering just what the younger male was sensing. Sweeping his eyes across the room, they landed on a lithe young man sitting in the corner by the exit. He would be lying, however, if he didn’t admit to the shock that ran through him at seeing the all too familiar features.

[Arzhel]

Arzhel grumbled as he followed his Head Mechanic out of the ship and into the bustling Capital.

After arriving at a café he nodded his head at the lecture before entering the establishment. He stilled at once when the instincts of his feline counterpart growled at him. Anticipation slowly built up and he swept his gaze around the place before resting on a person sitting in the far corner.

[Thyris]

Thyris sipped at his tea, eyes closed in pleasure. He was really glad that his initial thoughts on the tea were correct, and proof lay in the fact that he was on his second serving. Sighing, he looked up only to be caught in a dark gaze, intoxicating wine colored eyes that stepped closer with each second.

Before he could regain his bearings, Thyris found himself sweeping his eyes over the figure before him, from the delicious body that really wasn’t hidden at all by the airy clothing, to the delicate but strong features such as the fingers, shoulders, and face. The face itself was something out of a misguided fairy tale, angular planes and silken tanned skin, beautiful in its imperfection.

Thyris was enraptured by the man standing in front of him, with those eyes that made him make an effort not to tremble; he could feel his fingers twitch as his eyes set upon a capturing essence. The other’s hair, a fetish that Thyris ruefully admitted on good days, was a meal of itself. He couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized at the full locks that stood out with seemingly more shades than Thyris thought existed.

It was very much hair that made one want; to plait, to watch, to feel it’s smooth texture. Most of all, to Thyris, he wanted to just bury his fingers in it. It didn’t matter how; wet, dry, slick with sweat or other bodily fluids… It was very much an orgasmic thought and so, with exactly that in mind, he shifted back a bit, intending to exert more control on himself.

It was ruined, of course, by the narrowing of those delicious eyes, before, after another step closer, a hand with long, tapered fingers reached out and rested through his own hair, the palm resting on Thyris’ cheekbone, dangerously close to the point of no return, but with an almost knowing precision not even touching his scales. Then, with a tug, he found those eyes close – too close, way to close but so hypnotic – and the next thing he knew he was being kissed.

[Zion]

In no ways was Zion N’ieal a stupid man. Most people would agree that he was the epitome of the exact opposite. The point, however, was that he was a full grown male, an odd one but everybody had their quirks, and for the life of him he couldn’t control the wave of shock and lust that ran through him at the sight of their newest soon to be clientele.

Intellect demanded that he know who the beautiful young man was, and he did. But as their eyes locked it didn’t matter that he knew Thyris’ parents, or that the boy himself was being groomed to become the next Quaester or some other ungodly high position if the devious man had his way. In his mind, he’d sometimes imagined that meeting the other would be accompanied by an infuriatingly witty comment that said much but admit nothing. Not so.

Keeping firm in the knowledge that this wasn’t a mating bond – though he was positive that the fates would have loved such irony – he finally gave into the soft smirk that had been dying to surface, and after seconds of watching those desire filled eyes, pressed his lips against the hybrid’s. A soft flutter said it all, and so he pressed his advantage, claiming the other’s mouth as his own, going so far as to keep one knee on the cushion.

A second later he felt a hand grasping his shoulder, and another gently running through his hair, almost mimicking what Zion was doing with his own hand. Drawing his hand back, Zion lightly ran the pads of his fingers along Thyris’ jaw line, delighted in the whimper and the way the smaller body pressed against his. Briefly, he once again tangled their tongues before pulling back, keeping his eyes on the other’s bright grey ones.

The slighter one, Thyris, let out a low disappointed moan before finally focusing on Zion’s own eyes. The blond delighted in the light flush that still adorned the hybrid’s face, and shifted so that Thyris was seated more firmly across his thighs. “Thyris Katsuni, I take it then, hmm?”

It was also right about then, of course, that Zion finally connected some of the other noises around. Whispers of people who probably thought they’d just gone through the first phase of bonding, and the very curious snarls coming from his one and only Captain. Oddly softening the smirk into a small smile, he spread his legs so Thyris fell more onto him. “I am Zion N’ieal, head of Engineering on The Aiedail. I do believe you made a request?”

[Arzhel]

I could feel my eyes widen in realization when I felt a kind of pull towards the person in the corner. I raised my eyebrow at this, practically feeling the vibrations of my beast purring in delight. Smirking, I looked the man over. My mate… heh… So, I finally found my mate. After years of searching lo and behold, irony of ironies the applicant is my mate. The Divines must be laughing at me for this.

I studied the young man; he was absolutely beautiful, all right. My mate’s hair was an array of color, the black, red and green blending into something of it’s own. His face was aristocratic, slim with high cheekbones, topped off with eyes a swirl of grey and green, clashing but at the same time combining together to form one of the most intriguing eyes I had ever seen.

I couldn’t help but notice that though his clothes might try to hide it, it was obvious the young man was slim. Though not feminine in body structure, my mate was lithe and lean. A swimmers build one might guess. The young man wasn’t just beautiful… he was drop dead gorgeous.

I continued to smirk quite proud to say that he has a mate so beautiful. Hhhhmm.. he’s so hired. I was about to approach the young man when someone else had beaten me to it.


I was not amused…


I was so not amused at what I was just witnessing.


I growled. Even as the haze cloud surrounded me, I could feel my canines bursting forth, a snarl escaping my lips. I just know that my eyes are glowing, the once sky blue color turning into a frigid icy blue. I am distantly aware of the other patrons tensing at this before I stalked forward and wrenched the other from Zion’s lap.

I’ve put my mate behind me and glared at Zion. “Better acquainted, Zion?” I raised a pierced eyebrow in derision. “Or is this your usual way of greeting the applicants, hhhm?”

[Thyris]

Thyris gasped as he was forcefully wrenched from his ‘seat’ by the arm, and had barely enough time to glimpse an infuriated, if handsome, face, chilling in it’s cold calmness before all he could see was a wave of dark hair. That is, also, before the man’s words reached his brain.

Usual way of greeting applicants? Furrowing his brow, Thyris listened with half an ear to the clamor going around. But then… yes, he vaguely remembered the blond… Zion, murmuring something.

Looking down, Thyris stared at the arm that was twisted backwards to keep resting on his wrist. There were little flutters of the man’s fingers, teasing his pulse point. A glance up through his glasses confirmed that yes, the two were deep in an argument. So why was that hand inching down his arm? Two point personalities?

Thyris got startled out of his thoughts by a hoarse shout coming from the man in front of him. In fact, the only thing he could do afterwards was react instinctively, dropping to the ground, shocked out of his wits.

“-MINE! MY MATE!”

[Zion]

The moment of bliss didn’t last, ending in one harsh moment where his little hybrid was wrenched off Zion’s lap. Upon spying the Captain as the cause, and the subsequent words issued from the Zercan’s mouth, Zion felt a wash of cold, angry turmoil come upon him.

“I wasn’t aware that it was your decision as to how to handle applicants? After all, not an hour past, were you not alluding to the very fact that I should pick someone approved with a pretty face because work is depriving me?” Zion felt a small sense of satisfaction at the tensing of Arzhel’s muscles at each emphasis.

“And I’m quite sure that Thyris would have passed my test,” he continued, making the name sound as though it were perfect honeyed tea. “But, yes, I did indulge myself, applicant or not. How sweet he tasted, and how ruffled and delectable he became.” Pausing, Zion allowed a smirk to appear as the Zercan literally shook in his rage, though a small frown appeared as maroon eyes caught sight of tiny bruises appearing on his desires forearm.

Expression darkening in a matching rage, Zion made sure to look his sights only on Arzhel, who looked as though he were about to open up his side. “Then you took him, Arzhel, and what should I think? You have never disproved of how my tastes ran before, sometimes enjoying them for your own little sick amusement.” Keeping control on his tightening voice, Zion’s eyes locked with the others.

“So no, I was not finished making my acquaintance, because you deterred such an action. And at this moment, I could care less what your reasons were, whether it be it a belated, unnecessary conservation, a lingering envy, hate, or jealousy;” Zion allowed a lingering strand of bitterness and tone of cruel mocking to cover the last word, then with abruptness, changed the topic.

A dark emotion coating his voice, Zion spoke. “I. Don’t. Care. What I do care about is that you’ve done these things, and as I speak are harming my quarry. Or have you not noticed that you’re about to break his wrist, maybe pierce a vein with those nails of yours? So! What reason do you have for such idiotic, malignant actions!?”

The last words echoes throughout the almost empty café, words that hadn’t even been shouted. No, they’d been lined with more emotion and deep, hoarse fervor that it was worse than a shout; so loud in its absolute sincerity that it was like the dull roar of a deity speaking through a vassal.

After the last echo faded, Zion pursed his lips and looked away. “I judge you this day, Arzhel Serein, as you have me. And in my mordant ardour, I hope that you rest many sleepless nights in relation to my verdict.”

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Zion looked at Thyris and his breath caught. He was in shock; it made sense, but to actually see the unresponsive glint in his eyes… Already reaching for his medical contactor, the words were out his lips before they registered. “I hope that we’ll one day absolve this, but I hope you realize just how much emotional hurt has bled into physical.”