Breakfast

Breakfast mess was quieter than usual; no surprise, considering the past 20 hours. Dylan had ordered everyone off split shifts for a few days of r&r and a check on ship systems. Regardless, Harper'd spent his sleep time in Engineering; now he was doggedly shoveling down some sparkly-coated multi-colored nugget chow the Maru stocked. Trance was fussing with preserved fruit and ship's biscuit.

Crew hit the sugar when they're stressed, Dylan thought -- except for the Rev, obviously. He usually showed up for breakfast and dessert after dinner, more to be sociable than anything else, but this morning he hadn't interrupted his meditation. Dylan looked at his black coffee and toast and tried to think of a protein that didn't make his stomach lurch.

Beka had a crepe and a couple of the little bland sausages. Looks reasonable, he thought. Plain, sane. She smiled up at him. "Honey?"

"What?"

"Pass the honey. Behind you. Second thought, just roll the caddy this way." With a dozen preserves and syrups and condiments from as many worlds. He thought the Than were bad.

"Looks like a bug's banquet." Tyr said, pulling up a chair, echoing his mind.

"Morning, Anasazi." Surprised he showed up, to tell the truth. Maybe the man's trying. He watched Tyr pile a plate with sliced meat, fruit, and toasted grain: maybe the man's hungry. Tyr addressed his food with a scowl.

"Survival," Trance said.

"Pardon me?" Tyr looked up.

"Life is sweet. We're here to enjoy it." She handed him a biscuit spread thick with red jam. "Have some."

He snorted. Took the messy treat, surprising Dylan even more. Bit into it, and a drop fell unnoticed on his chest.

"Dylan?" Trance was looking at him, now. "You want something?"

"Nothing, thanks, I'm fine." He ate his toast, drank his bitter coffee, and watched the scarlet jewel on Tyr's chest seep through the chainmail, imagined licking up the jam, sucking it from the links, sweet and hot and alive on his tongue.