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Seven

    Lassea took a deep breath and inhaled the bitter coffee vapor from the machine in the mess kitchen. Mach had provided them with some kabelleira beans, which she regarded as the best coffee in the known universe.  
    When the machine finished brewing the beverage, she filled two china cups with the dark liquid and sweetened it with a pinch of sugar and cream.  
    Although the purists would sooner burn themselves on a stake than sweeten kabelleira, Lassea much preferred the balance of sweetness and bitterness. Not to mention how the sugar metabolized with a chemical within the genetically modified bean to release a stronger dose of stimulant.  
    She needed everything she could get to stay awake—and avoid the nightmares.  
    She lifted the cups, noticing her hands still had the tremble that had manifested a few weeks ago. The coffee would help for a while, so it was okay—for now. She had made sure to hide her trembling from Mach. He would only grill her on what was wrong. Ever since she’d first met him, he had looked out for her—and her brother—although that was no longer possible.  
    As she turned her back and headed to the bridge, being careful not to spill the coffee, she choked back tears and composed herself. She would have time after the mission to deal with her family issues. Right now she wanted to focus on being the best pilot she could be.  
    Assuming Tulula would let her.  
    Although Lassea thought the world of Mach and didn’t doubt his ability to captain the crew, she wished he hadn’t insisted on Tulula staying behind. There was something decidedly creepy about her. Well, creepier than her multi-limbed vestan appearance. It was the way the alien just glared at Lassea in that silent brooding way of hers. Lassea shivered once before steeling herself and entering the bridge.  
    ‘The alien’ was sitting at Babcock’s engineering console to the front of the wide-open circular bridge. She hunched over it like an animal devouring its prey. Her four yellow ponytails were swept back over her neck. The bright color contrasted with her near-black skin.  
    “You brought coffee,” the vestan said without turning around. Even up close she seemed so small. When standing upright, Tulula was barely a meter and a half tall; her head would only come to Lassea’s shoulders, yet the vestan was no less intimidating than Adira, even when sitting.  
    “I thought we could both do with something while we scan this empty husk of a planet.” Lassea placed one of the small china cups onto a non-active part of the console and stepped away to take a seat at her own console. From the corner of her eye, Lassea saw Tulula pick up the cup, taste it, then grimace.  
    “You’ve put that disgusting sugar stuff in this,” Tulula said.  
    “Um, yeah, is that a problem?”
    Tulula swiveled in her chair and stared at Lassea and said, “My kind cannot tolerate it; it’s poisonous to us.”
    The vestan expressions were difficult to gauge, which was what made dealing with them from a human’s point of view so difficult. At the moment the vestan woman’s flat nostrils were flared and her large yellow eyes bored into Lassea. It didn’t take an interspecies anthropologist to know that she was upset.  
    “I was just trying to be kind,” Lassea said. “I’m sick of there being this tension between us.”
    “There wouldn’t be if you just left me to get on with my job,” Tulula added, turning back to her console.
    “Well, excuse me. Mach put us both on this job.” The blood was starting to rise in Lassea’s cheeks and neck as it did every time she got angered, which lately was far too often. She took a breath and avoided saying anything else to worsen their relationship.”
    “Mach didn’t need to; I’m more than capable,” Tulula said.  
    “No one’s doubting that, but we’re teammates, we ought to be able to work together without all this bickering. What is it about me that bothers you so much?”