A Star Pilot's Heart

by Eva Delaney

  “I’ll land,” he said. “You go ahead. I’ll follow.”

  I clenched my teeth. Orion was doing it again. He was lying to me “for my own good” rather than trusting me to handle problems on my own. He was planning to sacrifice himself for my sake. Again. “This is not the time to argue. I’m your ranking officer so do as I say.”

  He shook his head. “They could open fire—”

  “Damn you! This is my ship and this is my last moment with her. You won’t take that from me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I will.” His voice turned cold. “This could be my last moment, or yours, and you won’t make me stand by and watch you be captured or killed. I’m going to take the Firebrand—”

  “Fuck you, Orion.”

  “I’m saving you.”

  “You have to trust me to handle things myself. You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

  “I trust you. Why do you think I wanted you free of prison? Because you can handle things better than anyone. Why do think I told you what happened—”

  “Three years after it was too late for me to do anything. Not again. I’m doing my part, so do yours and get your ass the fuck off my ship.”

  “Still thinking about my ass?” he said and grinned.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I said. Because now that he mentioned it, I was.

  The Firebrand’s door hissed open, and finally the men were gone. My ship would provide enough cover for them to enter Vinera before the Supremacy noticed. I eyed Castor’s ships. One hovered above us and one circled nearby. The rest darted around the docking bay like an obstacle course, or a ring of asteroids. Perfect.

  “Orion, trust me. Please. I know what I’m doing.” I managed to keep my voice steady but inside, I pleaded for him to trust me, to let me fight for him.

  He met my stare and shook his head.

  My heart dropped like a fighter crashing through rotten ice. He didn’t believe I could handle this and survive. He didn’t trust me to face danger and return to him in one piece. I might not, but he should think I could. He should have faith in me. That was why he lied three years ago, and that was why he wouldn’t listen to me now.

  He thought he could handle this and that I couldn’t.

  “Are you coming?” Polaris called, his voice echoing through the ship. Mr. Pancake barked once.

  I started. “You should be gone! Save your damn selves.”

  “Need help?” Antares said, mischievously. “You’ll both come faster with an extra pair of hands.”

  “We’re not abandoning you,” Hamal added.

  “Fuck,” I slammed a palm on the dashboard. They were risking their lives for me and Orion. That was stupid, unnecessary, and against orders. We’d be splitting up anyway, so why wait for us?

  Because they cared. I always expected people to disappear because so many had. And now, when I needed them to disappear for their sakes and for the sake of The Uprising, they refused.

  It pulsed rage through my chest and something else. Something that made my heart go squishy and sore like a seeping wound.

  I unbuckled the safety webbing and stood. “Go,” I ordered Orion, “or I don’t.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered, but he stood. I gripped his wrist and dragged him after me so that he couldn’t go back for the Firebrand’s controls. In moments, we were down the ladder and out of my ship.

  “Good parking job,” Orion said.

  “I know,” I said and grinned. The Firebrand’s ramp stood a mere meter from the personnel door. Rux and Antares waited inside the open door while Polaris and Hamal lingered outside.

  “Go, go, go,” I ordered, waving at them to hurry through the door before the Supremacy caught on to what we were doing.

  The men rushed through the door and I dragged Orion after me. Once through, I shoved him as hard as I could. He stumbled forward, and I dove backwards into the docking bay. I slammed my hand onto the close button. With my other hand, I drew my blaster and fired at the panel. It smoked.

  Through the little round window in the door, Orion screamed something. But the thick door blocked the sound. He pounded on the control panel, but with the circuit fried, the door wouldn’t open.

  I shrugged and grinned as cockily as I could manage with anxiety flaring through me.

  Calpurnia, he mouthed over and over. Come back.

  I almost did. But with the door controls damaged, it was too late.

  Orion didn’t trust me to survive disaster, but I still trusted myself. On top of that, I couldn’t watch him sacrifice everything for my sake again. It was my turn to save him. I wasn’t going to fail him this time. I wasn’t going to fail any of my crew this time. They would escape safely.

  Cali, he screamed silently. His jade eyes were wide with fear.

  Behind him, Antares watched me, half impressed and half worried. He smiled when I met his gaze. Go get them, Firebrand, he mouthed.

  Hamal, ever the calm practical one, tried to pull Orion away from the door. Polaris yanked a small tool set from his pocket and rushed for the door’s broken controls. Rux nodded at me before doing the sensible thing and disappearing into the crowds.

  I turned my back, leaving them to the hiding spaces of Vinera Space Port. And turned to face Castor and his fleet alone.

  Thirty-Two

  Castor’s red and black ship loomed in the docking bay exit. The door cranked shut behind him.

  I couldn’t escape in the Firebrand and lead his ships away like I had planned. I was trapped.

  But I could still provide a distraction. Castor wanted me more than he wanted any of the men. He might give up the search for them once he caught sight of me.

  I locked the Firebrand’s door from the outside before leaving her behind to guard the men’s retreat. I might never see her or the men again, but I didn’t look back. If I did, it’d slow my steps when I needed to be quick. I dashed from under the Firebrand to the nearest merchant craft. If I was lucky, the circling Supremacy ships would believe we were trying to stowaway.

  The air rumbled as the Supremacy ships closed in. I watched their shadows on the concrete to time my movement and rushed for the next parked ship. As I dove under its cover, plasma blasts singed the air behind me.

  My throat closed in panic. They were trying to kill me. That couldn’t be right. They needed info on Agent Winters. Unless…

  Unless Castor already knew where to find her. Unless this was revenge for humiliating him.

  I cursed and watched the circling ships for an opening. If I stayed on the move, they’d have to waste time chasing me, and the men would have fewer Supremacy scum on their asses. Whether we saved Agent Winters or not, they needed to escape here alive.

  Orion needed to escape alive.

  Then I spotted it. A parked Supremacy mega-fighter with its ramp standing open, and one woman guarding its door. I didn’t see any more of its crew. They might be inside Vinera or herding merchants onto ships.

  I flicked my blaster to stun and fired. The guard crumpled to the floor, unconscious before she even saw me coming. I raced up the ramp and paused, listening for signs of crewmembers. I heard and saw no one, so I slammed my hand on the control panel to lock the door.

  Moving as silently as I could, I headed for the bow. The dual gun chambers were empty with their swivel chairs and triggers waiting for me. I hesitated.

  I could fly away instead. The docking bay might open for one of Castor’s own. I could be away before anyone noticed that the ship was stolen. Once in Supremacy territory, I could travel anywhere in a ship from Castor’s fleet. No one would stop me. I could find Agent Winters and stop the Supremacy on my own, like I had meant to.

  No Rux making snide comments and showing off his perfect body. No Orion distracting me with his flirting and charm. No Polaris maintaining the ship better than I could alone and stammering at my teasing. No Hamal cooking warm meals and offering warmer words. No Antares making sarcastic remarks and writing words on my palm with his long fingers. No Mr. Pan
cake smiling at everything.

  No Orion’s steady, warm touch. No steady, warm love that was with me all these years though I didn’t know it.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. I had already left them. This should have been easy. Steal the ship and save The Uprising.

  But what was the point of a free galaxy if I failed to protect the people I cared about? What was the point of fighting for justice and freedom if there was no one to share it with?

  It was more than that, though. I couldn’t leave because I couldn’t fail Orion. I owed him his life. A fresh start.

  I slipped into the gunner’s chair and fired up the high-power plasma rifle. The radar targeting system lit up, showing the docking bay in crisp 3D. I gripped the controls, took a deep breath, and aimed for the nearest black ship.

  The gun moved smoother and cleaner than the ones on the Firebrand. I’d rarely used a blaster that shot so accurately. Most of The Uprising’s equipment was battered and repaired hundreds of times over. This gun was almost a joy to shoot.

  I hummed absently as I slid the chair to the side to track another black ship. They moved in wild chaos, abandoning their patrols as they scrambled to find the shooter.

  I took a deep breath and fell into the anxiety, letting it fire up my brain, quicken my reflexes, and sharpen my sight. I tracked the ships, firing in a continuous plasma stream. The Supremacy’s weapons melted under my attack. Their engines sputtered, and the ships landed before they crashed. I didn’t miss a single shot. I honed in on every ship, every gun, every enemy—

  Except for one.

  I was so focused on the danger in front of me that I didn’t hear the ship’s door hiss open. I didn’t hear his boot steps on the deck or the click as he flicked off his blaster’s safety.

  I didn’t hear him coming.

  The barrel of the gun pressed against the back of my neck. I froze, jolting my hands off the weapons controls as though they had burned me. I rose my hands.

  He didn’t say anything. He dragged the barrel along my throat until it was under my chin. It dug into the soft skin of my neck, forcing me to tilt my head up until I was staring at him.

  Castor grinned like a cat with a mouse. “Welcome to hell, Captain,” he said.

  “It’s Commander,” I said.

  Thirty-Three

  The cell was little more than a cupboard. It was pitch black. The ceiling was too low for me to sit up, and the length was too short for me to stretch my legs. By my best guess, I had been here for two days. If Castor was trying to break me or wear me down, he picked the wrong method.

  The cell was like the cramped cockpit of a single-person fighter. The darkness wasn’t any different from the deep of space. I had ample experience with both. I knew how to tense and relax my muscles to avoid cramping, and to ignore the pain when that no longer worked. I knew how to occupy my mind when there was nothing to do, and to sleep at any time.

  I settled in, closed my eyes, and imagined the flickering lights of hyperspace. I breathed deep and pretended I was on a mission to someplace better, someplace far away.

  It was ironic that Castor locked me in a tiny crawl space when I leapt from one to attack him. I was sure he had done it on purpose. A sick sense of humor on that one. He was trying to turn something that allowed me to get the drop on him to something tortuous.

  In that, he had failed too. I tried to call up the memory of my sister, Celene, but she wouldn’t come to me in this tiny cell.

  When I couldn’t convince myself that I was in a fighter’s cockpit anymore, I turned my thoughts to my men. I remembered Hamal pulling me against him during tag. I remembered drifting with Polaris in zero-G. I remembered Antares’s hard shaft pressed between my legs.

  That killed a lot of time right there and made captivity much more enjoyable.

  But then I remembered Orion’s fingers inside me and his mouth on my clit. Every memory of Orion turned to him silently screaming my name on the other side of the docking bay door.

  That I left him without a word gnawed at me like parasites eating through my heart. That he wouldn’t let me repay the debt I owed him bubbled inside me, hot as boiling oil.

  Had prison been like this for him? I had never seen an Uprising prison. Were the cells small or did they provide room to move around? Orion was always restless. He could only remain still for long trips in a fighter’s cockpit if he burned off energy before and after. He would run laps around our bases and do push-ups under the shade of his fighter before every trip. It kept him sane.

  How did he manage to live in a cell for eighteen months?

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t budge.

  My poor boy. He let them clip his wings and steal the skies to save me. If only he had told me, I could have fought for him. He hadn’t given me the chance—and I hadn’t looked for him. So, I had to fight for him now, and hope that he trusted me to escape on my own. I hoped he saved himself this time.

  The more Orion invaded my thoughts, the harder it was to pretend I was in a fighter traveling in hyperspace. If I were, he’d be near in his own ship, along with the rest of our squad. But I knew he wasn’t.

  It had been so easy to believe that he had given up on me. It came like breath, like my own heartbeat. For the entire three years we were together, I had believed he would leave.

  But Orion had never done anything to suggest that was true. He never flirted with anyone else. He made sweet promises on sweet nights under gleaming stars, and he kept them. He never left my side. When he was offered a position as commander of his own squad, he stayed as second-in-command of mine.

  Despite his loyalty, a sick, rotting part of me believed he wouldn’t stay forever. I had been waiting for him to leave. So, when he did, I didn’t question it. Orion was right when he said I could have fought for him. Instead, I had given up on him.

  I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I hoped he’d take the chance I’ve given him to escape the Supremacy.

  Once I broke out, I would have to run to the far side of the galaxy to avoid Orion. I couldn’t face him while knowing that I gave up on him and broke his heart. I couldn’t face that sad, hungry look in his eyes. I couldn’t face my own failure and the sick part inside me.

  I couldn’t face his need for love and acceptance because I didn’t know how to give it to him. After years of happiness together, I had failed to see the good in him. My heart, a battered, rotting wound, didn’t deserve him.

  Maybe he’d finally realize that. If not, I’d stay away for his own good. Before I failed him again.

  The cell door slid open, shattering my thoughts. I blinked up into the sudden light. As my eyes cleared, Castor leaned over me, grinning wolfishly. “Are you prepared for what’s next, Captain?”

  I mirrored his grin despite the anxiety clawing up my throat. “It’s Commander, now. Do your worst, boy. I dare you.” His worst was the mind reader, which would melt my brain. But I wasn’t going to show fear to this arrogant tyrant.

  “A game, how…churlish,” he said. “Well, I choose truth over dare.”

  “A coward would,” I said.

  “You are hardly in a position to negotiate the terms of our game, Captain,” he said and offered me his hand.

  I batted it aside. “I’m comfortable right here.”

  The spoiled ass tsked. “I’m quite skilled at seeing through lies, as your crew learned a few days ago. Your current lie would be obvious to a dead man.”

  “What a sad life if you believe everyone is lying to you,” I said. “Is listening to you talk the best torture you can come up with? It is painful. But I’m still disappointed.”

  “Many are,” he said, and his mouth quirked into a strange, half smile. He stepped back. “Lift her out of there,” he ordered his guards.

  Before their grimy hands could touch me, I rolled out, and nearly fell on legs that were asleep. Castor’s hands grabbed my shoulders, holding me up. I wanted nothing more than to shove him away, but my legs weren’t stea
dy enough to manage it.

  “Shall we continue our game?” he said and winked.

  Thirty-Four

  Castor’s thumb traced the woman’s pink lip. She wiggled closer on his lap. “What do you want me to do this time?” he said, soft and teasing.

  “Urgh,” I said. I leaned back and swung a boot onto the table hard enough to make their drinks jump. The chains around my wrists clanged as I moved, a cold, uncomfortable reminder of my situation.

  His yellow eyes glinted maliciously at me as the woman sucked on his neck. Judging by her clothes, she was a Vineran mechanic that he had picked up for this show. She seemed happy enough to oblige the crown prince.

  What I didn’t understand was why Castor bothered. Did he think this would make me jealous? Did he hope I’d throw myself at him? What exactly was the point?

  “You should have shot me,” I said. “It’d be less painful than watching your sad attempts at seduction.”

  “If you want torture, Captain Bellatrix, that can be arranged.”

  “Commander Bellatrix. And torture can’t be worse than this,” I said. The woman shot me a quick warning glance. I ignored it.

  Castor nodded to a guard. My heart leaped into my throat as the man loomed over me. He grabbed my ankle and yanked my foot from the table. My chains rattled as I sat up.

  “Rude,” Castor chided me.

  “Gross,” I chided him. Provoking him made my throat want to close off and stop all words. But what did I have to lose at this point? He had already captured me. It had been two days, so the men were long gone. The Firebrand would be melted down for parts. Being snarky was all I had left. Pissing off the prince was the only fun left before he sent me to the mind melter.

  Castor tsked. “Do they not teach civility in the barbarian territories?”

  “They teach decency and respect.”

  Castor rolled his eyes. “Wait for me in my quarters,” he growled in the woman’s ear. He lifted her off his lap and slapped her ass to send her on her way. She flushed and giggled.