Red Sky at Night (Home in the stars, #0.5)

by Jolie Mason

  Of course not. He pondered that. Of course not. He’d put money down on this being her Mam’s fault. That old harridan found fault with anyone in her sphere.

  He didn't actually think about what happened next, just pushed her back against the wall behind them. The one with a door leading down to the main stairs that was always locked. He crowded her body with his, let her feel his desire for her where their bodies met. His big hand wrapped itself into her fiery hair and he pulled her mouth to him in a hot press of soft lips and exploring tongues.

  Somewhere in that kiss, he let the fantasy take over, and his hand bunched in that skirt, pulling it up and over his questing left hand. He groaned when his fingers met soft, warm flesh, felt that forbidden line of fabric that were her undergarments. He thought his heart might explode at the thought of actually living his every fantasy of Brinn Lako. But, he knew he couldn't, not tonight. One day, one day very soon, he would. He wanted this woman. Maybe, he wanted her more than he wanted to fly.

  She would, however, leave this roof with no doubt of his intentions. He tightened his fist in her hair and dragged her mouth from his.

  She whispered, "Stars.” Making him smile against her cheek, he held the word to himself like the prayer she meant it to be. Knowing he'd affected her was more than enough. For now.

  He leaned to her ear and said, "I haven't said anything because you weren't ready, but I want you, Brinn. And, I'll have you. Mark my words, Brinn Lako. You're gonna marry me one day."

  She started to protest, and he lifted a forefinger to rest against her lips. She closed her mouth. "For once in your life, don't argue with me."

  "Why?" She asked it with a tremor in her voice.

  He shrugged. "Well, it wasn't from encouragement, I can tell you that. It was just you, from the first moment I saw you on the schoolyard. It’s always been you."

  "That makes no sense."

  She disentangled from him and slid away, and, for his own sanity, he let her. Still, his eyes tracked her nervous movements.

  "Love, men aren't nearly as complex as you seem to believe. It's pretty much, see something, like it, pursue it. We are not complicated."

  She threw him a wry glance.

  "Hey, I'm not saying that's good. I'm just saying that's what we do. What a woman has to watch is which kind of guy she stops running for. Some men aren't looking for the long haul."

  "And, you are?"

  "Absolutely. Trouble for you is that I'm that type. If you don't want to marry me, you better start running right now, because I won't give up till you make me."

  "I," she began shakily. "I can't get married. I have too many responsibilities. My work, and mother."

  He scoffed at that. "A woman like you can do anything."

  "Like me?"

  "Yeah," he told her. "Smart."

  She shook her head side to side as she looked at him. "I don't know what to believe of you, Arden Badu. This time last year you were sneaking kisses from Sal Winters."

  Arden fixed his gaze on Brinn's shorter frame. "I wasn’t looking for Sal. I was out in that garden waiting to get you alone. Believe that I mean it, and I won't give up."

  She wiped her hands in the skirt of her dress like she might be trying to control them. He smiled broadly again in the dark. She made him so damn happy just being there sometimes.

  "I should go, Arden."

  "I'll be right here."

  She shook her head in confusion, and walked toward the door she'd come from earlier. He watched her go, wanting to call her back, and knowing that would be the worst thing he could do.

  CHAPTER THREE

  *

  The employment line was long, stretching out beyond the marketplace. Arden was thankful he wouldn't have to stand in that line. He had his job lined up, if things went all right this morning. Arden walked to the other side of the street to get more easily around the gathering crowd looking for work.

  You couldn't even say times were tough on Taarken when you looked at the faces down on their luck, out of work and out of hope. This was normal for Taarken.

  Arden jogged across the dusty street, around a trash transport and recycler, and straight up to the Carnes Syndicates' Mining Office.

  Inside, a young woman sat at the desk glancing back and forth between a datapad and a spreadsheet hard copy. You didn't see those every day, he thought as he noticed. The woman looked up to see him in the doorway.

  "May I help you?"

  "I'm here to speak with Dante Olen." She smiled.

  "You must be the new hotshot pilot he's waiting for."

  "Oh," he wavered. "I don't know about that."

  "I'll show you straight back."

  With that, she led him back down a hallway and past a far more utilitarian section of the offices than the lobby had been. No soft seating and flowery watercolors.

  She tapped a comm panel to the right of the door, and it slid aside to reveal his good friend, trapped behind a desk piled high with work and multiple datapads. The larger man rose with a broad smile that was his usual jovial expression. His dark skin was a rich contrast to his white business shirt.

  "Oh, Dante. I'm sad to see you this down on your luck," Arden joked. The two men shook hands. "This is just so sad to see. You're getting soft around the middle."

  Arden playfully punched his friend in the middle where he’d put on some weight, and his friend returned the horseplay. "Thanks, Millie," Dante said to his assistant as he hooked an elbow over Arden's neck pinning him. When the door slid closed, Dante let him go as Arden laughed.

  "Impressive scores at the academy, Arden."

  "Only if it gets me the job."

  Dante gestured to one of the chairs before his desk, and took the other one, instead of walking around to sit in his own.

  "Oh, you have the job. That's not the worry; The worry is whether you'll want the job I'm offering." The man tapped his knee twice.

  "I have a problem, losses, theft. I need someone I can trust on this particular crew."

  "What kinds of losses?"

  " Cargo, little more every trip. And, whoever is responsible is padding the books to hide it."

  Arden whistled. "Well, that is a short list."

  "Yes, it is. I know who's dirty on the crew. That's not what I need.

  I want to know who is receiving our goods. This could get dangerous, Arden."

  "Because you basically want me to play dirty, and then give you the names?"

  "Yes."

  "Anything for a friend. I assume that the salary is in line with the danger?"

  The other man laughed. "Of course, it is. What do you take me for?"

  The two men stood. "Where do I report?"

  "The Bolavon docks in three days. She'll unload and start taking on new inventory and crew the day after. You're the copilot and new armory officer."

  Raising his left eyebrow, he said, "Handy. I assume they'll be eager to be my friend."

  "That's what I'm hoping for. He who has the armory has the ship, you know that old saying."

  They talked about the local hauler races a bit longer, until Arden left the office to get some of his gear out of storage and get ready for his new assignment. He’d need that side iron, it appeared.

  It wasn't exactly what he'd expected, but it was a good job. It was also a favor for a good friend. He and Dante went way back.

  *

  Brinn met Arden by accident enough on the roof that it was getting to be difficult to pretend it wasn't a prearranged date each time. She'd tell herself she needed air, and usually she did need to escape the close confines of the tiny apartment and her mother and grandmother's constant bickering. Like magic, within minutes of her taking a seat in her favorite spot, a long day bed designed for naps, Arden would appear.

  Tonight, she was especially upset. Brinn had processed payroll all day, and one new hire in particular had her nerves on high alert.

  She looked at him as he sat down beside her. "What did I do?" He asked without preamble
lacing his fingers over his folded legs.

  "The Bolavon is a terrible ship!"

  "It's a job, Brinn." She could see she'd baffled him. Brinn slapped the flat palm of her hand on the chair cushion beside her.

  "It's not just a job, Arden. That crew...."

  He sat straighter. "What about the crew?"

  She lowered her voice, even though there was no one else to hear. "It's just a ship with troublemakers, Arden. I do the inventory, remember? I process the ship manifests after every trip. There's something wrong."

  "Have you gone to Dante with your suspicions?"

  "The chief of operations? No! Gods, no. I inform my supervisor and leave it. But, there's some...."

  "Some what?"

  She leaned closer. "There's a correlation. The ship is always in a particular system when the inventory is short. I don't know how no one's noticed, but only one person can change the route of a ship besides the captain, and that’s my boss. He takes the orders, and can redirect the ship or add pick ups and deliveries. The orders that cause the diversions always get canceled."

  She felt his hand brush over the back of her head. "Where?"

  "Chancellor."

  He chuckled close to her ear. "Have I mentioned that you are bloody brilliant?"

  "What? Why?" She turned in her seat, annoyed that he was laughing, presumably at her. "I'm good at my job."

  "You are so much more than good at your job," he said, leaning in to brush a kiss on her lips. "You are a revelation. The smuggling is why I'm going on the Bolavon, and you just handed me my first lead.

  Don’t report anything else. Just let me handle it."

  "You're trying to catch smugglers?" Her hand smoothed back his shaggy, light hair. The moonlight made it look lighter. "Now, I'll never sleep."

  He pulled her closer and laughed. "Yes, you will. I'll see to it." She didn't think too much more as he kissed her, tongues and teeth twining as they fell back on the daybed lost in each other.

  She believed him now. Stars help her.

  Brinn lay there as he unbuttoned her simple dress and stared up at the twinkling stars. His mouth trailed behind his fingers, making her breath hitch with each new feeling. So the world contracted to that moment with Arden, even as the stars expanded above them. She watched the sky, thinking he’d be up there soon and what would she do if he just kept flying away from Taarken, away from her, until Arden ran his clever hand beneath her skirt. Then, she closed her eyes and cried out at the feel of his fingers inside her. By the time, he finished she'd called his name so many times, she couldn't believe no one had come looking to see what was wrong, and he was right. She would sleep, but her dreams would be haunted by light hair, clever fingers and stars.

  *

  The Bolavon was a short nosed cargo hauler designed to transport utility goods; cable wiring, refined Millan gas, parts and equipment. It sat squat and ugly on the clamp at the space dock. Arden made his way up the ramp with a small, go bag over his shoulder and a devil may care attitude.

  He made his way into the bowels of the cargo hold as the droids and dock workers finished preparing the hold and cargo for launch. If he was right, this run was going to be a big score, maybe a last score. They'd stolen so much that the crew had to expect Carnes to notice.

  Fortunately, he wasn't the only new crew member to be joining the Bolavon. The mess crew was brand new, and they were also his back up. A four man crew posing as mess unit kitchen staff. It hadn't taken much to get them in. It also helped to camouflage his sudden appearance, as did the false file they'd sent ahead of him. That file indicated he was on probation with the company for theft, and that only because of his well connected, sister in law, who was manufactured for the trip. He smiled to think of the cover story.

  There were about a dozen crew members near the hatch leading into the crew sections. He ambled that way, shifting his bag to his shoulder by the strap. "Captain Ros?"

  One of the men pointed his thumb over his shoulder indicating that the Captain was inside the ship. Working his way through the small crowd, he headed inside to seek out their leader.

  His job on this ship was going to be simple. The drop off would go off without a single hitch. He would find out who they were delivering to and where, and security would be waiting to arrest the entire crew, even those assigned to watch the smugglers. That way no one would know who turned them in.

  Simple. Everything would be simple, he thought.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  *

  Why wasn't it ever simple? He had the thought as he ducked behind a packing crate, and the bright blaze of pulse fire hit the bulkhead behind him. The buyer had decided he wanted the whole shipment which had been bound to happen one day when you’re dealing with bloody pirates.

  So, now, Arden found himself hunched, grasping a pulse iron and dodging fire in a confined cargo hold with ten other men. Thankfully, the kitchen crew, who were really law officers for central, had made the difference, and the hijackers were mostly on the run, but the whole game was up now. They would have to take the ship. He sighed as, yet another, pulse hit the wall just above his head leaving black burns behind. He turned his head to get a better look, then fired off a shot when one of the crew of the ship poked his head out.

  He commed one of the lawmen. "Do we have a plan here, Ajax?"

  "Just keep shooting."

  Great plan, he thought. Arden rolled over to a taller crate, so he could change his angle. He peeked around and got a position on two of them without being shot at for a change. That was encouraging.

  He popped out of cover long enough to fire two shots into the closest one, hearing his hoarse cry as he fell to the decking. Several more shots were fired, and more than a few men finally surrendered or died in the cargo hold.

  As the Bolavon limped back in, Arden had a realization. He wasn't cut out for an exciting life in space. Right now, he wanted his rooftop, and he wanted to bury himself in Brinn. He thought for the first time, he might understand his Da and the way he never moved on when their Mam died. He just soldiered sadly on waiting to join her.

  *

  She’d heard about the raid on the Bolovan before it even made port, and, word was, it was limping. She set the two large shopping bags on the counter and started to unload the groceries.

  “Brinn, you’re home.” It was the tremulous voice of her Gran behind her.

  “I’ll have your supper, Gran.”

  “You’re a good girl, Brinn. Too good.” Brinn turned to look at her hunched grandmother swathed in her leathery skin from years of harsh living and a demure black shawl. The woman was famed for her habit of using her very advanced age to speak her mind.

  “What’s that mean, Gran?” She asked the question indulgently. Brinn loved her Gran, loved especially that no one made her be quiet at any point of her lifetime.

  “Been hearing you have a young man.” Brinn started to protest, but her dominating grandmother shushed her. “You know I don’t get involved in these things. But, in your case, I’ll make an exception.” She waved an arthritic finger at her granddaughter who rushed to help her into her chair.

  “That Badu boy has chased you for a long time now. Men only chase like that for two reasons. Now, listen, because I’m the voice of experience here.

  The first is they like the challenge of a girl who said no. If that’s the reason, you kick him in the balls. He’s not good enough for you. The other is that he’s really in love for life. Now, that one you grab hold of and start having babies.”

  “Gran!”

  The old woman cackled. “So, which is he, granddaughter?”

  “I would guess the second.”

  Brinn said the words softly, in submissive, missish undertones, and she knew it. Her Gran did, too.

  She pounded her old, twisted wood cane on the hard floor. “Girl, I love your mama, but, in this, she has been wrong. Her life with your father marked her up a bit. She’s used the whip and flog with you in place of mothering. That ai
n’t right.

  That ain’t the question here, though. The question is; Are you gonna keep taking it? You gotta a man who’s a good man. You gonna let fear stop you, or are you my granddaughter?”

  Brinn kneeled at her Gran’s feet. “Gran, what if I’m wrong? What if he isn’t the second kind of man?”

  “Simple enough. You shoot him and start over. That’s how we did it in my day.”

  Brinn chuckled, hesitantly at first. “I love you, Gran.”

  Her Gran’s wizened, old fingers shot out and firmly grabbed her chin. “You don’t let nobody tell you you aren’t entitled to your piece of the stars, Girl! You understand me? This is a hard world, a tough one. You gotta be tough to have anything in it. Good men and opportunity don’t grow on trees. You grab it up when it comes. I mean it.”

  Brinn clutched her Gran’s thin wrist with tears in her eyes. “I will, Gran.”

  “You see you do, Miss. Now, you said something bout supper. What’s it to be then?”

  Laughing, Brinn blessed whatever good fortune had allowed her to have a strong woman like Gran for so long in her life, and she preceded to read off the menu for the evening. At which point, her Gran called her a good girl and told her to hop to it. She wanted to eat before she was dead.

  *

  He walked back into the apartment the same way he had walked out, quietly, but there was shouting coming from his sister's room.

  "It won't matter, Caden. I don't care what you do. It won't matter."

  "Ari, if I go, he'll be satisfied. I can get him to back off for a while. Besides, I have to get some kind of training, right?"

  "Four systems away!"

  "Whoa," Arden said. "What's going on in here?"

  Caden looked at him in surprise, not having seen him enter and growled. "Alec Carnes is going on."

  The disapproval in the boy's voice went a long way to alleviating some of Arden's initial dislike. He still didn't trust him entirely, but the fact that he disliked his father's ways helped a lot.

  Ari looked like she'd been through hell though. She stood to the side with her arms wrapped around her middle, looking like the world was ending.