Starlight and Candy

by K. T. Flores

  “Yes. Wouldn’t you?” The words shook with emotion.

  “No.” His gaze was unwavering.

  She recoiled from his answer as if it had struck her. His candor was shocking and stung deep within her chest.

  She stared, fumbling to find a response. “Then… What—But…” She inhaled deeply, fabric of her pajama’s scrunching in her fists. “Why did you save me?”

  He turned away, running a hand over his face. “I was hoping my sister’s racer would have information to help me find her. You were a frustrating complication. And then I realized we could help each other. I’d figured I was going to need a Navarian, and there you were. Convenient and just as confused as I was.”

  She set her jaw. “That’s it? I’m convenient?” She covered the sting in her chest with annoyance.

  His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter. “I was convenient for you, too.” She opened her mouth, but he continued, “Don’t deny it. It’s why you called me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “But… that’s not all you are anymore.” The words were soft and unexpectedly hit a chord.

  “What am I, then?”

  He met her gaze. “Important to me.”

  She came up short, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. That was the last thing she had expected to hear. And she didn’t know how to respond. These feelings swirling inside weren’t what she wanted to talk about. What she wanted to talk about was Kira.

  She changed the subject. “If we didn’t find Kira, would you still help me leave?”

  A part of her always felt unsure, but when had she started to sound it, too? Steady, she commanded herself. You’re in control. If she said it enough times, it had to be true.

  His laugh was clipped, grating against her nerves.

  “Is something funny? Because I’m not amused,” she snapped.

  “I’m glad you asked me that question today and not a few weeks ago,” he admitted, lounging back and shrugging. “Because I would’ve tossed a few more million units your way, given you a few holocomm numbers, and told you to figure it out yourself.”

  “And now?” Her throat tightened.

  His eyes met hers once more. “And now, even if we don’t find Kira, I will do everything in my power to make sure you are safe and get off this planet. Just like you want. Honestly, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you.”

  For you. For you. The words resounded in her mind. Sank into her veins and flowed throughout her body with heated prickles.

  She inhaled and exhaled twice.

  She wasn’t used to people looking out for her like this. She was the one that took care of them, not the other way around.

  “Tell me about your family,” she demanded. If he was surprised by the topic change, he didn’t show it.

  “Tell me about yours,” he countered.

  “You are such a snob.”

  “It’s my birthright.”

  “Cyril,” she said tersely.

  “Tauri,” he returned sweetly.

  She crossed her arms, aware of the angry flush crawling up her neck. “You’re so closed off! What are you afraid of?”

  He rose with a snort, pushing his head closer hers. “I could say the same thing about you. You and I”—he gestured between them—“are more alike than you think.”

  He was right, and she hated it.

  They were both so reserved, so careful around other people. She wanted to break down his walls, know what he was thinking. She wanted to be comfortable enough to be honest and vulnerable with him. She was tired of being alone, and she felt like he understood that.

  Instead, she tried to hide the uncertainty lurking in the dark corners of her mind.

  She raised her chin a notch and leaned forward, invading his space. “We’re nothing alike,” she snarled.

  His face crumpled for a moment, and he collapsed back onto the couch. She blinked, and his anguish was gone. “Only where it matters,” he whispered.

  She wondered if she’d imagined the tiredness on his face. He had looked lifetimes older and desolate, if only for a few seconds.

  She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She wanted to apologize, but the words were stuck in her throat.

  They sat in silence, staring at one another for what felt like hours.

  “I don’t hate—”

  “My family—”

  She offered a small smile, indicating he should go first.

  He flexed his jaw, searching for the right words. He ruffled hair along the back of his head. “I’m not overly fond of Empyrean calling my family the Oich Dynasty, but he’s right. My family branch, Ru, holds over ninety percent of taminite in the galaxy,” he hesitantly began.

  She tried not to balk. Most of what she had read hinted as much, but it was insane to hear him admit it. She didn’t want to know how much the Ru family was worth.

  “My mother became the owner of a backwater planet with an even less developed moon after my grandmother died. Imagine her surprise when the tiny moon had mines filled with metal and gems. She was even more surprised to find the metal grew back quickly as if it were a crop. And then she realized it was taminite.”

  Tauri felt pinned by his gaze.

  “No one outside the Ru family knows about this. The locals are the only ones that work in the mines, and they’ve been sworn to secrecy. If anyone were to find out about this, the moon would become a bloodbath.”

  She didn’t understand the gravity of what he was telling her because she didn’t live in his world, but she knew he was trusting her with one of his biggest secrets. She held the power to destroy his whole family. And a whole population.

  It was humbling, but why trust her? Maybe he wanted to be more open with her in the same way she wanted, and he felt this was the best place to begin.

  “Many people want me dead, and just as many want to know where my taminite supply comes from. Being close to me, to Oich-Rus, and to Oichs in general invites danger. No one knows where Kira and I are now. Most of the uncertainty comes into play whenever we’re system-hopping.”

  He looked far away, swept up in memories.

  “And what about that lost shipment Empyrean was talking about?” Tauri asked hesitantly.

  “One of our transports disappeared near Navar. Taminite isn’t good for weapons because of how easily it changes shape, so if someone stole the transporter, they’re probably reselling it. My sister initially came to see if anyone here had information. She went to Helden because she thought candy runners might have been involved.”

  They fell quiet once more, both digesting the importance of what he had shared.

  Tauri stood abruptly and grabbed two bottled waters from the fridge. She offered him one, painfully aware of all the points along her hand where his fingers brushed against.

  She bit her lip before speaking, not sure where to begin. She didn’t want to lie to him or tone her feelings down. “I’ve never hated overworlders. I mean, I used to when I was younger, but then I met Orn. He was an old mechanic in the underworld, and he taught me everything he could. He was family to me.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the prickling sensation. It was always difficult to think about Orn for too long. And this was the hardest part.

  “A guardian shot him. I don’t know all the details. Stars above, I wish I knew.” She grimaced, remembering the horrid coughs when she found him. His brown eyes beseeching and gentle. At his side, a stranger attempted to stop the bleeding while she frantically called emergency medical assistance.

  “An overworlder tried to help me save him, but an overworlder was also the one that killed him. She met his gaze unwaveringly. "I desperately wish things were different.”

  “It’s funny how strangers and chance meetings can change your life,” Cyril said softly.

  She didn’t think he was talking about Orn.

  She pulled the blanket from the table over herself, settling in against the couch. She wasn’t ready to go back to the unnatural stillness of her room.

  Cyri
l grabbed the other blanket and turned on the monitor overhead.

  A movie began to play as he tossed around, trying to get comfortable.

  She stole a glance his way, a wave of something filling her heart. She wanted to reach out and grab his hand, feel the warmth of another person, but she placed it beneath her head instead.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is funny.”

  Chapter Ten

  It had taken yet another week to track Modey down, despite the help of coordinates. He liked leaving his designated underworld shift routes. It wasn’t often underworlders like him became guardians, but the ones that did usually came back to help. Tauri had talked to Modey whenever he stopped by her sector, but he was usually in a hurry.

  She kicked at a pipe in frustration. The clanging echoed and filled her with silly satisfaction. Tauri and Cyril were by the portion of the scrapyard dedicated to decommissioned robots. Although, the robots were quickly becoming mounds of metal waste.

  “Was that helpful?” she asked Cyril, glancing at the spot Modey’s car had been. “Because I feel like we wasted a bunch of time trying to find him.”

  The Canis had left the junkyard a few minutes after talking to them. While it was nice to catch up with him, there wasn’t much he divulged that they didn’t already know.

  “Maybe. He told us that a purple female Dagrian has been spotted in this sector multiple times these last few days. At least now we know Kira wasn’t captured, and she’s alive.”

  “She’s not the only purple Dagrian out there,” Tauri said carefully.

  He agreed. “You're right, she’s not. But that Dagrian was spotted with an old hoverbike. So old, in fact, that Modey wasn’t sure how it ran properly. Sounds familiar.”

  She brought her hands to her heart, fondly saying, “Yes, that’s my baby!”

  “I don’t think you know any other purple Dagrians that might fit that description besides Kira.” He ran a hand through his hair, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

  “Okay, fair point. What then? We just wait around here and hope she shows up one day?” She frowned, eyeballing the pipe she’d kicked.

  She wound her foot back as far as she could without losing balance. Then, she kicked forward again. The pipe sailed across the walkway. She cringed in anticipation of the sound it would make when hitting the pavement, but it never met the ground. A steel arm snatched it from the sky. A robot stepped around the corner, pipe easily snapping in half under its grip. Her eyes narrowed at the red-and-white striped pattern across its chest.

  She hurried and shoved Cyril behind a scrap hill. He began to protest, but she shook her head, and pressed a finger to her lips.

  “There’s a tracker robot out there from Vice. We can’t go that way,” she whispered.

  “We can’t go the other way either,” he said tersely.

  She followed his gaze, tempted to pull out her hair when she saw two more robots coming up behind them.

  “Tauri Solne and Cyril Oich-Ru. By the authority of Darren Filiam, you are under arrest. If you resist, you will be killed,” one of the robots said.

  She unhooked her raypistol, aiming it at the one that had spoken. Cyril pressed his back against hers, mirroring her stance. The safety clicked off, and her finger hovered above the trigger.

  “Tell us why,” Cyril demanded, his body vibrating against her with every word.

  The machine repeated, “Tauri Solne and Cyril Oich-Ru. By the authority of Darren Filiam, you are under arrest. If you resist, you will be killed.”

  “Yeah, well, fuck Fili,” Tauri snorted.

  She fired immediately, but the robot dodged with uncanny ease. She cursed. She was a good shot, but the robot was faster and stealthier than average. Its black certification badge and stars told her it had at least a dozen upgrades.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cyril flitting in and out of time, moving in a blur. He teleported between two robots effortlessly. He easily shot one in its central control panel, but the second one pushed him before he could get out of reach. She lurched towards him to help, but her opponent grabbed her forearm and tossed her like she was a rag doll.

  She cried out as she hit a hard pile of metal junk.

  “Stupid robots,” she snarled, trying to shake the heaviness clouding her mind.

  “Tauri!” Cyril called out, but the robot had him pinned. And was his teleporting weakening?

  “I’m alright!” she called.

  She groped around for her raypistol, but the robot didn’t give her much time. She scuttled back into a junk pile and spotted a rusting kettle bell. And it was a heavy one. Sweet relief flooded her veins. All that lifting heavy machinery would come in handy, even if her ears were ringing from hitting her head.

  She let the robot think she was too injured to stand without limping, and when it got closer, she heaved the kettle bell with both arms and swung for its head.

  She winced as she felt its mechanical systems shatter beneath the force of the weight. She was used to building and fixing things, not destroying expensive, beautiful pieces of machinery.

  Cyril’s grunts refocused her. He had also lost his gun at some point, and he went back and forth exchanging blows with the robot.

  “Can you teleport?” she asked, breath ragged as she came up close.

  “If I could, I would,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Tauri hauled the kettle bell with both arms, and she thought she saw his jaw drop. In his moment of distraction, the robot had swept him and placed its foot on his neck.

  Tauri moved faster, fighting the urge to yell at her overworked muscles.

  One. More. Step.

  She brought the kettle bell up to her waist, roared, and then swung with everything she had. The robot’s midsection shattered, and sparks flew. Metal and wires rained down, and a few stray pieces scratched her skin. Again, she found herself cringing as it crippled before her.

  Could she salvage some of these parts? Rebuild the robot to help them?

  Cyril panted against the ground. His chin tipped back, taking in the sight of her. She stood above him, chest heaving like his, hair a wild cloud around her head. His eyes swept over her, heavy and dark. Shock was written across his face, but there was a hunger, too. Beckoning her closer.

  He looked like he would bite.

  And a part of her wanted to be bit.

  Don’t think about that, she warned herself, stumbling a few steps back.

  He jumped to his feet. “Put that thing down before you hurt someone else. How did you even—nevermind. Check your head. You hit it pretty hard.”

  Tauri dropped the kettle bell with a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized she was gripping it so tight. Her fingers ached. He hopped to the side, the weight narrowly missing his foot.

  “Be careful,” he warned.

  She wobbled, not paying attention to him. Now that he mentioned it, her head throbbed. Her hair felt wet as she ran a hand through it.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “I see that,” she said wryly.

  He quickly picked her up in one smooth motion. She tried to protest, but he ignored her squirming. The grimace on his face grew as he tried to teleport, but nothing happened.

  “Shit,” he huffed, beginning to walk towards the hovercar they’d driven. “I haven’t been drained like this in a while. I’m out of practice.”

  “Put me down,” she said, struggling to push away from his chest. “I can walk!”

  “The car is around the corner,” he said, unbothered by her insistent squirming.

  “I thought you could teleport more. And further,” she grumbled.

  He bristled at her tone. “I can. But if I can’t… focus properly, it becomes more difficult.”

  Don’t blame it on me, she wanted to say. But his furrowed brow, tightened lips, and twitching eye encouraged her to refrain.

  “I’m not usually so distracted,” he said, more to himself than her.

  She und
erstood what he was trying to convey. “I can take care of myself,” she said softly. “I’ve been doing it for a while now.”

  “It doesn’t mean you always have to,” he said gruffly, jerking his chin toward her head. “We’re in this together now.”

  Together? she wondered, and he gave her a funny look.

  “Together,” he confirmed with more force than she expected.

  Had she said that aloud? She hadn’t meant to.

  “I—” Before she could finish, red movement caught her eye. She fumbled with her raypistol, aiming it to another robot that had appeared beyond his shoulder. Before she could pull the trigger, the tracker robot fell over, control panel melted. “Oh, stars above,” Tauri breathed, tugging on Cyril’s shoulder urgently.

  He turned and nearly dropped her.

  “Kira,” he whispered, jaw going slack.

  Kira offered a small smile and an awkward wave, raygun dropping to a holster along her thigh. “Hi, Cyril. Hi, Tauri.”

  “Hi,” Tauri responded, bewildered.

  Since when had Kira known her name?

  Kira gave her a sheepish look and shrugged. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you two.”

  “Kira Ysuldi Oich-Ru, I am so mad at you right now,” he said lowly.

  She looked different from the last time Tauri had seen her. Her ponytail swayed in the wind, and her eyes were unapologetically bright. Her black turtleneck, olive green pants, and slip-on tennis shoes made her look more like an underworlder.

  Her feet remained planted on the ground, shoulders back and chin lifted.

  “Yeah, yeah. What else is new?” she retorted, hand going to her hip. “You’re always mad at me.” She rolled her eyes and then winked at Tauri. “I’m in big trouble. He used my full name.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

  “With good reason! You’re so lucky I didn’t tell Mother about this little mess you’ve dug yourself into,” he hissed, stomping towards her.

  Kira looked nothing like the panicked woman that had stumbled into Tauri’s shop. The Dagrian before her was proud, unyielding.

  Like her brother, Tauri thought with a small smile. But it faded quickly as she tried to get back on her own two feet.