June 3, 2440 8:15 AM
“Good morning, Matthew,” W’ren said, stepping out of the shuttle with a smile and taking Matt’s hand in his.
“I didn’t know you were coming down, W’ren. I thought they were just bringing me the shuttle.”
“I do have business with my sister, and to be honest I wanted to wish the two of you the best. I know we are not official in the human media yet, but word travels fast among the V’ren.”
“I may be High Lord of the V’ren, but you are Keeper of the Flame among us. I should have told you as soon as we found out. The implications are far-reaching.”
“Not your job—it was hers,” he said, smiling at his niece. “And she actually tried contacting me before she told you.”
“You didn’t tell anyone before me,” Matt said with a questioning look.
“I didn’t,” T’mari said with a shrug. “I contacted him, and L’Shel”—she nodded toward the woman—“said he was taking a shit and to call him back.”
“That is not how I phrased it,” L’Shel said with a laugh, shrugging off the family banter. “It is true, but I am way too diplomatic to say so.” She stepped around her mate to hug the new mother-to-be. “He also says he was coming down for a cheeseburger and fries, but I think he has been eating too much cheese. Is there any way to counteract the effects?”
“Prune juice,” Matt said confidently. Many of the V’ren were getting constipated from too much cheese. He supposed this could be the opposite problem, and that had just been the absolute worst advice.
“The other option is to quit eating so much damned cheese,” Angelina said with a long-suffering sigh, since her husband had the same problem for the same reason. “It is good to finally meet you in person, L’Shel,” she added, hugging the woman who had been such a good source of information and camaraderie over the last week.
“Along with the customary gifts we bring our High Lord, we brought you something too, Angelina,” W’ren said, blowing the traditional commander’s training whistle. Out marched two military cadets in V’ren dress uniforms, carrying the aforementioned gifts.
Despite the grave formality of the presentation, it was very hard for MJ not to smile at her mother and Uncle Matt as she and Kevin presented the gifts.
“You two look good,” Matt said formally, then looked back to W’ren. “How is their training going?”
“They are progressing quickly. So quickly, in fact, I have assigned them to your shuttle to get firsthand experience as the assistant comms and flight engineers.”
“I am pleased to hear that. I told you she would do well, Angelina.”
“You did, but as her mother this was not something I needed to be told,” she said with a grin for her daughter.
“My keen weather sense tells me it will rain soon, so let’s all go in the house,” Matt suggested.
“I thought it was your weather app that told you that,” T’mari laughed.
“Nope, keen weather sense. The app just confirms the current temperature,” he said, putting an arm around her waist while playing a little grab-ass—accidentally. Accidentally was his storyline, and he was sticking to it.
Matt took his customary seat at the desk, but not without sliding the new chair he bought for T’mari into place next to him. “We have a lot to discuss, but first I want to show how much I am able to anticipate things,” he said, pushing a button on the remote. The closet door slid open to reveal Mall. “Kevin, now is your chance to kiss her without your mom and dad seeing.”
“Jesus,” Angelina laughed, nearly bursting her jeans. “Talk about no sense of romance—you could let them sneak into the closet for a proper snog, or let the three of them play spin the bottle or something,” she said, waving at the three young people.
“I am no longer in the closet, Mom,” MJ laughed. “Though Mall is rather cute, and if Kevin doesn’t want to take her in for a snog…”
“Decisions, decisions…” Mall laughed, wondering what kissing the tall, attractive girl would be like. “Ah, there’s the rub,” she said, giving a sly smile to MJ. “Things done well, and with a care, exempt themselves from fear.”
“Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once,” Matt slyly responded, answering Shakespeare with Shakespeare.
“Though she be but little, she is fierce,” Mall answered in kind, hearing the seventy-inch MJ mutter something about “little” under her breath.
“A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear of him that hears it,” Matt said with a sweeping gesture to Kevin.
“I have not read that one yet,” Mall admitted, acknowledging defeat in this contest and looking forward to playing this game again.
“Why do I feel like I have just been roasted by the two smartest people in the room?” Kevin asked helplessly.
“Well played,” Matt said, chuckling as he caught the pride flickering across Mall’s face. He doubted anyone had ever praised her intellect so publicly—and Kevin doing so meant more than any praise from him ever could. “Next time we do Gilbert and Sullivan.”
“It’s okay, Kev—don’t ever get into a punning contest or rap battle with him unless you really want to feel bad,” MJ said, giving her flight school buddy a good thump on the back, putting her arm around his shoulder, and waving Mall over to join them.
“Go! Git! The three of you, go have a threesome or something,” Matt called, waving his coffee cup in the general direction of the door.
“Yeah, but it isn’t settled on who’s going into the closet with whom,” T’mari laughed.
“Maybe I will take both of them in with me,” Mall called over her shoulder.
“She’s gotten bold,” W’ren observed, not without approval.
“Good,” Matt replied flatly. “She should be.”
He let his eyes sweep the room—brief, but unmistakably aware.
“And if anyone disagrees, they’d best keep it to themselves—or better yet, pull their heads out of their asses. Underestimating people because they weren’t born to social respectability is how empires fall.
“While I’m away, I want you all to read up on the French Revolution.”
He didn’t wait to see how that landed.
“Now—let’s get down to business. This trip will last until the eleventh of July and hit twenty-plus cities.”
