by Elin Wyn
“Once you’ve been shown to your room, we ask, for your own safety and privacy, that you stay in the areas of the ship that we’ve discussed,” Aavat was saying to what I presumed to be the father.
His wife and their two children followed behind, the children looking around the ship in wide-eyed wonder while the woman kept her head down. The man made a show of paying attention to Aavat, but he looked around the bay, as well.
And the skin at the back of my neck prickled.
There was something odd.
If someone had been threatening Maris, I’d want to keep a hand on her at all times. She might be a tough, competent woman, but it would reassure me, and maybe her.
Dejar and Kalyn constantly touched against each other when they thought no one was looking. Aavat hated being more than an arm’s length away from Shenna, and that was on a good day.
But this man followed Aavat without even glancing behind him at his mate. The woman, much smaller framed than his form, kept her hands on the children’s shoulders as they goggled at everything.
Not focused on her mate.
Maybe it was different for mothers.
I could believe that, but there was still something about the man, how he stood, how he examined the ship with a gaze more strategic than curious.
As they left following Aavat I tried to put my finger on it, but couldn’t see it. What was wrong?
“Could you be any more obvious?” I looked down from the Skimmer to see Maris looking up at me, her hands on her hips. “Wanna turn that thing off and talk to me?”
I had forgotten that the Skimmer was still on. I turned it off, checked the diagnostic program on the tablet and, with a nod, climbed down. “What are you doing here?”
“I had come up to ask you a question when I saw you giving the family a death stare. What’s up?”
“Something about that guy makes me uncomfortable. I’m not sure what it is,” I said as I put my arm around her shoulder. “Now, what was that question?”
“Uh-uh. I want to hear from you. Why does he bother you?”
“I don’t know. I know there are a lot of species and males out there that are just as big, or bigger, than I am, there’s just something about him and the way he carries himself that bothers me.” I just hated the way that man moved. “He’s almost familiar, but I can’t place him.”
Maris was shaking under my arm. I looked at her in concern, then realized she was chuckling to herself. When she looked up at me, she nearly lost control and turned her head away from me.
“What?” I asked.
“Mm, nothing. Just,” she pulled away a bit and turned to look at me. “It’s just funny how protective you are. We take on one little family of passengers and you immediately think about how bad the father might be. You’re just precious.”
“Ha, ha. I just,” I stopped to think for a moment. “I guess I’m just uncomfortable having strangers on the ship. I don’t know anything about them.”
This elicited a loud bark of laughter. “Oh. My. God. You do realize what’s been happening on this ship, right? What happened here several months ago?”
I looked at her, wondering what she was talking about.
She looked at me and erupted into more laughter. “Really? We were the strangers here, remember?”
And even I had to admit, that had turned out well.
Better than well.
Rather fantastically.
I shook off my worries and let myself remember how Maris’s lips had felt under mine.
Maris
After the Rogue Star left Qasar Station, Orrin stuck me back on boring upkeep tasks, but I understood why. On jobs like that, the chances of me running into any of the family members were slim.
The less they saw me, or any of the human women, the less of a chance they would realize we were in disguise.
At least they weren’t going to be a pain, because the rest of my shift was.
Getting underneath compartment two to check for possible leaks in the lines meant pulling on the eye protection and respirator, which just made the glittery skin job scratchy.
Pretty, yes.
Practical when crawling around in overalls and a full-face respirator?
Pain in my glittery butt.
We were about six hours out from Neo when I finally finished my work. My skin felt was crawling under layers of skin dye and I ached to scrub it off. There was no way in hell I was going to sleep with dye, oil, and other random gunk layered over me. Besides, I grumbled, it was all smeared up anyway. It’d need to be reapplied.
I was just following orders, right?
The shift schedule meant the corridor of cabins was often deserted, as most of the crew was either on shift, on call, or sometimes just hanging out in the rec room, instead of sleeping.
Not me, not tonight.
Painfully aware of my itchy skin, I returned to my room and grabbed a towel.
Aryn wasn’t in the room. She must’ve still been working.
Or trying to spy on the family, because she was incurably nosy, and just as paranoid as Orrin.
Either scenario was entirely too believable.
I took my soap and towel to the showers. On the way there, I bit back a shout when a long furry thing the color of coal darted past my feet.
A few moments later, Shenna came running around the corner.
“Please tell me you had nothing to do with the rope of fur that just ran by,” I groaned.
“I do not have anything to do with the rope of fur that just ran by,” she parroted.
“Liar,” I smirked.
“Its name is Slink,” Shenna said defensively, eyes wide.
“I don’t even want to know. I don’t want to know what it is, where you got it, or how it got on board.” I raised my hands in surrender. “Just grab it before anyone sees it.”
“I’m trying,” Shenna cried, and took off running again.
This place was going to become a damn zoo if Shenna had her way.
When I got there, I peeked into the showers.
“Hello?” I asked. My voice echoed through the empty room. I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly undressed. I ran the water as hot as possible, scrubbing away as the silver film slide off my skin and pool at my feet. I’d have to make sure it all went down the drain in case any family members decided to use the showers. It didn’t seem likely during such a short trip, but I couldn’t count on them staying nicely in their rooms.
I scrubbed my skin as best I could with soap and water. In the end, it wasn’t perfect, but I was too afraid of being discovered to linger. I shut off the water, wrapped myself in a towel, and sprinted back to quarters.
I didn’t encounter a single living thing, not even Slink, the fur rope.
Shudder.
Aryn still wasn’t back when I entered our room. I thought about scrawling a note asking her to bring me food and sticking it to the outside of the door.
Now that my disguise was washed away, and I was warm and sleepy from the shower, I had no intention of reapplying the dye immediately.
Which meant I was in for the night.
I kicked at my overalls. The respirator was still attached to the belt, but I hadn’t brought anything else up from the workshop to tinker with.
Boring.
I glared at the pots of dye, but just couldn’t be bothered. I didn’t want to read, didn’t want to go to the rec room…
I wouldn’t mind talking to Orrin, I realized.
Next time I had a project that was long and involved, but left lots of free brain space, I needed to do some serious thinking.
For a change not about engines, not about the shockwave.
About him.
He was smart and funny. Kind, when he didn’t have his head up his ass about ‘his’ engine.
Respected my work.
And me.
And hell… I flushed, just remembering his lips on mine, the touch of his broad hands… the man could kiss.
But wha
t was I going to do about it?
As soon as I was flat on my back with my head on my pillow, I realized I was more tired than I thought.
I drifted off in minutes, all relationship worries cast aside.
I didn’t know how long had passed when I jolted awake.
Alarms blared so loud I had to press my hands over my ears.
But not the security alarm that had woken me twice before.
It was the emergency alarm. Something was terribly wrong.
“Orrin.”
My mind went to him first.
Emergency alarms indicated some kind of mechanical failure. No doubt he was charging headfirst into danger.
I had to find him and help him.
I scrambled for the door, half-aware that Aryn still wasn’t in her bed. That was strange.
I threw the door open but found I couldn’t see more than three feet in front of me. The entire corridor was filled with thick gray fumes. My nose twitched and my lungs burned as I breathed in some sort of toxic fumes.
“Shit!” Dizzy, I staggered back and slammed the door behind me as I scrambled for the respirator.
I strapped the mask to my face and opened the door once more. My breath was shaky even though I was protected from the toxins in the air.
What could be leaking? Where?
I ran to the workshop first. It was empty. Eyes burning, I slapped the controls to kick up the speed on the atmospheric recycler. The system was a resource hog, but now wasn’t the time to be stingy.
Flipping through the screens, I searched for the break in the lines.
Not in cargo, not in the main engines…
There!
But… It wasn’t registering as a leak, but something was filtering through vent 24-H.
Fine. It wouldn’t be the only strangeness with the ship’s systems lately.
I patted the control panel as I grabbed the necessary equipment to make a temporary patch. “We still love you, sweetie.”
No sense in letting the Rogue’s feelings get hurt.
When I pulled the problem vent panel, shock froze my hands for a moment before I kicked back into gear.
There was something foreign stuck behind the pipes and conduits.
Something that was leaking into my ship.
With a scream of frustration, I grabbed the cannister, slapped the patch over the nozzle, and spun around.
Who had been messing with our systems?
It’d take hours before the atmosphere was fully purged, even with the scrubbers on high. I’d need to do an entire crawl through the maintenance shafts, looking for any other surprises.
When had this been placed?
And by who?
I needed to talk to Orrin about this.
I eased the panel back into place, even more careful with our ship now that my temper was up and all I wanted to do was throw things.
Hoisting the offending canister onto my hip, I stomped through the corridors towards engineering, then stopped, my heart in my throat.
Where was everyone?
I’d been so focused on the alarm, on solving the problem, that I hadn’t noticed… but I hadn’t seen a single person.
I stood still as a stone, listening for any signs of life over the blaring emergency alarm.
“Orrin!” My cry was muffled by my respirator. “Shit, shit, shit!”
I took off for the bridge. There was always someone there, at least three crew members at all times.
But as the pounding of my feet echoed in my head, I knew there was a bigger problem, something else was going on.
They should have responded to the alarm before I got there, found the leaking gas.
Long before I did.
It didn’t make any sense. I’d ask them when I got there.
But the bridge was deserted.
Panels blinked, a screen waited for input.
And no one was there.
I ran to Dejar’s office, breath caught in my chest, steps in time with the blaring of the alarm.
Someone had to be here. Somewhere.
It was locked.
It was never locked.
Even when Dejar and Aavat were shouting and swearing at each other, they happily fought in full view of the crew.
Nearly panicking, fearing the worst, I opened the control panel next to the door and typed in a security override.
I fell into the room as the door slid open.
It was empty.
“Hello?” I cried out, even though I knew there was no one around to hear my voice.
Where the hell was everyone?
I ran out of the office to the control room at the other end of the corridor.
I had to get back to engineering.
I had to get to Orrin.
As I ran, I swore I heard the sound of footfalls behind me. I looked over my shoulder.
No one was there.
Just before I reached the door, I felt a deep stinging pain in my arm.
“What the fuck?” I hissed, flinging my body backward.
My arm wouldn’t follow my body.
One moment I was looking at my arm and a twirling mass of toxic fog, the next I was staring at Amber-Eyes as she materialized out of nowhere.
Her thin, needle-sharp claws dug into the skin of my forearm. She was smiling.
I kicked out, catching her in the leg. She wobbled off balance just enough for me to tear my arm from her maw. I felt my skin tear as I yanked away from her teeth. She hissed in outrage, but I was already moving, spinning with the heavy canister, slamming it into her.
With a grunt, she swatted it away.
Well, shit.
She grabbed me by my hair, yanking back so hard I lost my footing. She wrenched my head back and drove me to my knees, tearing off my respirator as I fell.
“Why have you done this?” I croaked. The gas filled my lungs. Amber-Eyes said nothing but crouched over me to drive her fist up into my jaw as hard as she could.
Blackness consumed me, and I couldn’t hear the alarm anymore.
Orrin
“I did what you wanted. Now it's your turn.”
What the hell?
I didn't recognize the voice. Even with my head fuzzy and aching, it was nobody I knew.
And, where was I?
My eyes were heavy, hard to open. Whatever I was lying on was solid and uncomfortable, and my arms were twisted under me in an unnatural position.
“You'll get what's coming to you, don't worry. Just a few things to tie up here first.”
That second voice, male and raspy, that voice I had heard before.
But where?
The last thing I remembered was heading down to the workshop, when haze filled the corridor, choking me.
Then nothing.
I fought to open my eyes. A crack of light this time.
“What, what the kout is going on? Who are you people?”
No question about that voice.
That was Aavat.
If Aavat was here and in the same condition I was in, this couldn't be good.
And Maris?
What had happened to her?
I moved to push myself up, fear for her the final spark I needed to get my body moving, but with a jolt at my shoulder, I realized my hands were fastened behind my back.
The pain spurred my eyes open, then I quickly shut them again. Partly because the bright, blinding light of the cargo bay sent a spike through my brain, partly because it was time to think.
Across the floor was scattered the entire crew of the Rogue Star, as well as the refugee women. It looked like everyone, except our new passengers.
Everyone looked as if they were still unconscious. The ones whose hands I'd been able to see looked bound, just like I was.
Aavat had managed to struggle into a sitting position, swearing all the while.
Not unusual.
What was unusual was the bruising from his jaw to his temple.
When Aavat got into fights, unless it wa
s with Dejar, he was usually the one doing the bruising.
None of this was good.
“What this is,” said the man's voice that I struggled to place, “is me getting paid for a job. I must say, you didn't make it very hard.”
Aavat groaned, a little deeper.
He was faking it, I realized. Buying time, getting information. “Your job? Our job was to transport you and your family. And that, that's not your wife.”
I risked a peek to see who Aavat was talking about, but apparently wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.
“Come on, big guy, no point hiding. I can see your eyes moving.”
Maybe it wasn't me. The whole crew was made up of pretty big Shein.
“You, the mechanic.”
Scro.
That's where I knew the voice from. The bar where Maris and I had heard the...
Oh, kopa. I opened my eyes and stared at the father of the little family we'd been hired to transport.
“You're a bounty hunter,” I croaked, throat still raw from whatever the hell they’d done to me, to all of us.
“Not as dumb as you look, then,” he shrugged. “I wondered, after placing you here, realizing you'd been running around with one of my little targets.”
His targets.
The bastard was talking about Maris.
My eyes fixed on Maris’s body, sprawled in a heap at his partner’s feet.
His partner, not the demure wife who'd shrunk away from our glances.
But the strange, silent woman we'd rescued back on Katzul. The one Maris called Amber-Eyes, when she wasn't calling her a bitch.
Right now, I’d just go with bitch.
“Where’s your wife? The children?” I growled.
He laughed. I really, really didn’t like this guy.
“Still asleep in that very nice cabin you provided us. Nothing to me, just some female desperate enough for the credits I paid her to even go to Neo.”
No help there, then. I focused on the woman. There had to be a crack, somewhere.
“Why are you helping him? We rescued you.”
She hissed. “You didn't rescue me, fool. You are all idiots.”
“A plant?” Aavat sighed. His head dropped. The late-night mission that he, Dejar, Kalyn, and Shenna had done that brought the refugees to us, it had all been a setup.
