by Debra Jess
Speaking of which, she had to put the next phase in her plan into action.
"Captain, I'd like your permission to disembark once we reach Vaynix."
Hart’s eyes narrowed at her. "Why would you need to disembark?"
If he didn't trust her, he wouldn't listen to her at the moment she would need him to. All her plans hinged on his trust, but if he didn't give it to her, she would have no choice but to betray him. To do that, she needed to acquire a few items that could only be found at Vaynix hub, just in case.
"Clothing, for one. I don't want to push Mayla too hard fitting the spare clothes you have in storage. It would be better if I could find appropriate clothes that actually fit without her help."
Hart glanced at Ezick, who still listened to Rusa, his posture loosening as the older woman talked.
"How do you intend to pay for these clothes?" he asked, his face still neutral.
"C'mon, Hart. Do you really think I didn't stash away some emergency funds for this little operation? I have a sufficient amount in three different banks. All of them are under a different ID, and each bank has a branch at all seven stations."
He said nothing for a few heartbeats. "Is there anything else you need?"
Oh, the places she imagined he'd take her. Not even flying through a storm of meteors would wipe the smirk off her face. Hart’s eyelids lowered, the desire for her burning through any other conversation. Yeah, he definitely gets the picture I’m painting.
Then the look was gone before the rest of the bridge crew caught them. "I'm serious. If I'm going to protect you, I need to know where you're going."
His implication stoked her indignation. "I don't need your protection. If I feel threatened in any way, I know how to escape and evade. There's no need to concern yourself with tracking my movements. I know you don't trust me, but Hart, I need time to myself. This may be my last chance to walk among other humans who aren't trying to kill me. I want to soak up their energy, their spirit, their purpose, just for a little while. I've spent the better part of the past twenty years plotting this mission. For a few hours, it would be nice to not have to think about it."
Hart cocked his head, his brow wrinkling in deep thought.
"Please. You know finding Majesty of the Stars is my lifelong dream. I'm not going to do anything to put that in jeopardy, not now when we're so close to succeeding."
He still sat, thinking, waiting to make his decision in his own time, not hers. Which was fine—they had a while before they reached the hub.
Just when she thought their staring contest would drag out for another hour, he broke eye contact, leaning back in his chair to activate his comm. Despite her short distance, she could hear the voice, if not the words.
Hart kept his eyes locked with hers. "Our guest is going to need her own ear jack. We'll use one of the refurbished ones we acquired from our last raid."
The voice spit out a few words she still couldn't quite catch, but then she didn't need to.
"Use the recordings of Queen's last encounter with the Silt to align voice activation and all emergency evacuation codes."
Another garbled question emitted from the comm.
"No. Ear jack only. No weapons."
The voice rose, questioning the decision.
"If there's trouble, she can comm the rest of the crew. We'll handle it."
The voice disconnected. She found it interesting that Hart hadn't reacted to the questioning of his order. A Manitac captain rarely tolerated such behavior. She couldn’t say she would have done the same, but more and more she was learning that handling pirates was different from handling Manitac's personnel. Hart trusted his crew in a way Kelra never had trusted hers. His crew was his family. Her former crew were…crew.
"You know I don't need a weapon to defend myself."
"I'm quite aware of that, but that isn’t the reason I’m not giving you a one. Not giving you a weapon gives you more motivation to keep yourself out of trouble."
She opened her eyes wide in horror. "Me? Get into trouble? Whatever would give you such a thought?"
Before she could finish her next sarcastic remark, Hart reached out, pulled her close for a hard smack of a kiss that left her lips tingling.
"You're with me. Anyone who runs with pirates revels in trouble. And yes, Kelra, I know just how dangerous you are."
The world narrowed until the rest of the bridge and its crew disappeared and only Hart existed. Danger, trouble, excitement…all the things excited her in ways not even sex could fulfill. She knew this because she felt the same, only coming alive after her promotion to captain the Silt. There she had a clear direction to follow, granted one set before her by the board of directors, but an exciting one at last: hunt down every pirate in the Calypso arm and make it safe for new colonies.
Hart, the man who looked at her now like he would devour her whole if given the opportunity. Was giving him the opportunity worth it? For how long? Once she accomplished her mission, killed the alien who killed her parents, would she still want to run with pirates? Could she, in fact, turn her back on her training as a Manitac office to join a lawless band thieves?
That pesky image of resurfaced of being on the bridge of the Queen of Hearts with Hart at her side, both of them as captains standing proud and tall on their ship. Her world righted itself again at the ridiculousness of it, but her body still flooded with an unexplained longing. Hart pulled away so he could guide the Queen of Hearts through the slipstream, but that didn’t stop her from grasping at the dream. Only her own self-discipline stopped her from yanking him back to finish what he’d started. A ship could never have two captains, but somewhere deep down she wanted the dream to come true.
For now, though, she watched Hart interact with his crew as her body tingled and her brain pushed the dual captain image far away. Whatever she felt for Hart and however she chose to deal with their relationship, it was all secondary to her mission. Taking a slow breath to calm her nerves, she imagined the Majesty of the Stars, thought about walking through her corridors again. Would it look like she remembered it? Did the corridors even exist anymore? She had to believe they did, if not for the promise she made to Hart, then for herself. After so many years, so many dreams, she realized she might break down at the sight of her childhood home in any other condition than intact. How else could she respond?
Regardless, the crying would have to wait. Even if the Majesty’s bulkheads had lost integrity and a breach released the atmosphere—along with anything not secured to the ship itself—into space, the alien would still be there. It had to be, because it was waiting for her. It had let her live for a reason, but whatever that reason was didn't matter. It had never mattered. She would kill it, then cry for what she lost, and then let Hart do his worst to her if it came to that.
Her body might sing for Hart, but her heart belonged with the Majesty of the Stars. It always would.
Chapter Nineteen
The Queen of Hearts slid into the slip designated by Traffic with only a whisper slink-chick of the tethers securing themselves into place. After a small bribe, the Traffic controller granted their request to attach under the lowest ring of Station Six, the largest of all of them. It was a gamble: their location hid the Queen of Hearts from visual scans, but it would also be the first place someone like Hyeph Silt would look for her.
If Hart had any worries, he didn't show it. As for herself, well, his gamble had fooled her when she was captain of the Silt. She tried not to think about her failure too much, but after they found the Majesty of the Stars, then she would have to start learning how to live on the run, especially if she stayed on board the Queen of Hearts.
Oooooh, listen to you. Thinking about survival after the mission. Good luck with that.
Shut up.
The habit of talking to herself, and answering, that she’d picked up on the prison planet was a hard one to break. She knew it made her look a bit crazy, but she didn’t care. It helped, and that was all that mattered.
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Half the Queen of Heart's crew gathered near the compression gate in the landing bay. They'd all gone through four levels of decon before Hart would let them leave the ship. They'd have to repeat the sequence when they returned.
"Everyone, activate your masks." Hart disappeared as his mask took hold, changing his features into an unrecognizable visage of someone who'd lost too many bar fights.
Kelra clicked on her new ear jack, feeling the thin mesh of plasma crawl across her face.
How Hart managed to acquire the technology was something she would ask him later. For now, she was grateful he had enough for half his crew and for her.
He'd promised her that her mask already had a default image programmed into it, because there was no time to construct an image of her own. Now, examining her reflection in the nearby drink dispenser, she saw a bland woman with sagging facial features, flat hair, and a fleshy nose. Combined with her too-skinny frame, no one would look at her twice. They might even assume she wasn't wearing a mask. The mandatory scan from the compression gate shouldn't recognize her either. Combine that with her spiffy new identification code, and she'd be able to walk about freely, even among Manitac officers.
Not that she'd try it.
Hart checked to make sure there were no integrity issues with their masks. "Okay, you know the rules. No jacking into the public broadcast system. No communications on our private channels unless it's absolutely necessary. Necessary is defined as assistance with your acquisitions or you've been tagged by security. Medical emergencies are transmitted directly to Cuff. If you're not back at this window after thirty-six hours, you will be left behind."
Judging by the bored looks on everyone's faces, this rundown of the rules was meant for her, not them. He didn’t have to worry about her. She had no intention of causing trouble. She tried to communicate that with a nod and a smile.
Twenty minutes later, station security transmitted permission for them to enter. Hart followed behind her, presumably not trusting her at his back during the outing. Part of her was flattered that he really considered her so good at what she did that he felt the need to protect himself, but it was also getting annoying. The other part of her craved his trust because her feelings for him grew stronger every hour, but the fact was, she also needed his trust so she could finish her mission the way she wanted to finish it: alone. At the end of the day, the Majesty of the Stars was her ship, and she would be the first and only person to walk her corridors until the alien was dead.
Fresh, scented air caressed her the second she exited the window. Bright, colorful lights danced around the various directories and ad holos floating before the storefronts lining the inner circumference of the ring. Voices crowded her—old, young, loud, wild, all of them calling out for someone or something.
Too much. After so much time alone on a mountain, it was too much for her to process. Not even the short time she'd lived on the Queen of Hearts could reorient her to having a crowd of humanity to push through.
A large, warm hand landed on her shoulder. "Relax. Take a deep breath. Keep moving forward." Hart's deep voice had the intended effect. Her body relaxed while her breathing slowed. The world lost the too-bright luster and settled back into the normal rhythm of a space station.
"Where will you be?" she managed to ask, trying to regain some of her dignity.
Careful to keep his face turned away from security so they couldn’t read his lips, he whispered, "One of Johza's contacts sells weapons and ammunition. I need to establish a direct link with them so we can continue to do business after Johza retires. What about you?"
"I'm going to transfer to Station Four."
"Four? That's the residential station. Why there?"
She understood his confusion and was happy she could give him an honest answer for this part of her visit. "Even hub employees have to shop, and they don't necessarily want to deal with the crush of customers they handle while on duty. There are plenty of stores on that station where I can get the clothes I need without risking the extra security on two, five, and six."
"You already have pass code to get you on a shuttle to the station?" he asked.
"Of course. My nonexistent aunt Nenia cannot wait for me to visit. I left a set of fake IDs at one of the banks, which has a branch one ring above us. I'll grab what I need and get off this station within the hour."
Hart nodded, thinking, clearly not quite ready to let her out of his sight. The longer he stared, her need to move grew stronger, but she forced herself to stay put and wait for him to dismiss her. Not since she was a raw recruit had she been forced to endure such scrutiny.
Whatever he'd been thinking passed. She expected a nod of dismissal, but found a door pass pressed into her hand. "This is for Station Five, fourth ring, section twelve. The room number is on the back. Use it instead of hotels on stations one or three."
Taking the pass, she gave it a cursory examination. The red-and-gold logo of ancient armor meant nothing to her, nor did the room number, but she had a guess.
"You keep a permanent room here?"
He nodded. "I keep three rooms reserved for my crew, but this one is mine alone."
His alone meant he had to use it for reasons other than a quick nap in between supply acquisitions. A spark of jealousy flared before embarrassment doused it. Who was she to judge him on any of his past companions, temporary or otherwise? She couldn't even remember this Hyeph Silt person, so sharing a bed Hart saved for himself shouldn't bother her one whit.
She'd just have to make their night together so memorable that he wouldn't dare think of bedding anyone else while on this station again.
"Exclusive use, huh? When should I be there?"
Hart's smallest, but sexiest, smile replaced his stern, straight-lined lips. He was probably thinking about how he was going to give her the ride of her life. Well, if she got all her other chores done early, she'd have to prepare to give as good as she got.
"Six hours from now. Be there." He turned on his heel and walked over to where Johza stood, waiting a polite distance away.
Six hours was cutting it close, but arguing would invite more questions and suspicions.
Winding up her internal clock, Kelra skirted the throng of people to the nearest compressor window and, after a brief wait in line, directed it to one ring above. Stepping off, she checked her location. The station hadn't changed much since she last visited, a lifetime ago. Over to her right, the bank branch she needed invited customers inside with a cheery advertisement flashing on a holo above its doors, the familiar jingle just as annoying now as it was back then.
Once inside, she bypassed the line of customers to manually access her secret account from a station embedded in the wall to her left. With the money transferred, she bribed a teller for access to a safe-deposit box without a biometrics scan. Her box had all the basics: a sidearm already loaded, a serrated-edged knife with extra slots for plasm extenders, an ear jack, and two sets of combat clothes.
She repeated the same action at a different bank two rings above and a third four rings above that.
Done. She had all the credits and supplies she needed. Not having the credit chip embedded in one of her fingers might raise a few eyebrows, but it wasn't wholly unusual either. What she really needed was the ear jack so she could plug into the public 'cast net without Hart finding out what she was up to.
There was still the matter of meeting Hart later. She had under five hours and two more stations to hop. Pausing at a cafe, she sat at one of the tables lining the exterior of the shops and placed an order for a snack, something sweet with a drink to boost her energy.
While she waited, she called up the catalog for a clothing store on Station Four. This way, if Hart checked her whereabouts, he'd know she hadn't been lying. What type of clothes should I get that wouldn't make Hart suspicious? She stopped at a bold image of a model in a bright-red teddy.
You know you have to buy it, right?
It's too expensive. I need the credi
ts for the mission.
Oh, c'mon. It's one small item, and you will still have plenty of credits left over. In fact, you should get the white one too.
But…I've never worn one.
Get used to it, if you want to keep Hart off-kilter.
Sold. She transmitted her size to the store and bought the red, the white, and a gold one to boot. By the Stars, her conscience knew her well. She'd never used clothes to attract her lovers. She never had to. So why did three slinky teddies, which would expose her in ways she'd never cared about before, suddenly make her feel more desirable? The Manitac captain in her had always chosen men who only looked below her shoulders after she made the first advance.
Hart hadn't waited for an advance. He started flirting the same moment she ordered him to heave-to the first time she chased him down. The thrill of the chase followed by their over-the-top bantering only made her want him more, despite his pirating. No one else had ever impacted her to the point where she'd spend even one credit on frivolous nightwear. Now, she wanted to spend the credits, no matter how it affected her mission.
What would my parents think?
And there it was, the question that had haunted her since she stepped into the escape pod all those years ago. What would her parents think if she failed to avenge them?
Ordering a few sets of casual clothing eased her anxiousness. At least Hart wouldn't think her spending spree was all about him.
Passing a bribe to the pilot of the shuttle to Station Seven, she found a seat to herself in the back where no one would want to sit unless they had to.
You're having doubts.
No, I'm not.
Are you falling headlong into this mission because you really think your dead parents are going to care?
For Guardians' sake, you sound like the therapists.
