His Woodland Maiden

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “What a strange ship,” Harper whispered to him.

  Rick grinned, sliding his arm around her.

  Violette took the clipboard from him. “I’ll watch this.” She began tapping the digital buttons. Suddenly, music started playing over the ship’s comm system. The rhythm was strange and mellow. A woman began to sing, the alien words sounding both hopeful and sad.

  “Oh, there it is.” Jackson grabbed Raisa’s hand and spun her into his arms. They began swaying as he danced her around the commons.

  “My lady?” Lochlann bowed toward his wife. Alexis slipped her arms around his neck and held tight. He straightened, keeping her close as her feet dangled over the floor. Violette kept hold of the clipboard to watch the radar. Dev slipped a hand beneath her knees and lifted her against his chest. He swayed as she rested the clipboard over the bend of her stomach and thighs.

  “Harper, may I—” Lucien tried to ask.

  “Back off,” Rick ordered. He grabbed Harper’s hand. “This one’s mine.”

  Lucien shrugged. He closed his eyes and began swaying on his own, lifting his hands into the air as he dipped his head. Viktor went to find a bottle of Old Earth whiskey and poured himself a glass.

  Rick placed Harper’s hand on his shoulder and pulled her into a dance. He wrapped an arm around her, pressing a hand against the small of her back. He brushed a strand of hair from her face before cupping a cheek. They swayed to the rhythm.

  No one spoke over the song. A soft tink came as Viktor refilled his glass. He lifted it toward Rick in a salute before taking a long drink.

  There were very few moments that struck Rick as perfect, but this would be one of them. They were all together. They were alive. Harper was in his arms. Tomorrow might bring sorrow, but there was this moment.

  The song didn’t last as long as he wanted it to. When it finished, the spell it created lifted and, as if by unspoken agreement, they began to filter out of the commons. Harper stayed close.

  “Let’s finalize a plan,” Lochlann stated. “Everyone knows—”

  “We got to fly,” Violette shouted as she practically jumped out of her husband’s arms. She dropped the clipboard onto the floor. “Not a blur. Not a blur!”

  Rick let go of Harper as he ran after Violette. The hard clank of metal grates reverberated beneath them.

  Violette was sliding into the copilot seat when he came into the cockpit. She brought up the radar for him to see as he took the controls out of autopilot, canceling their current route. The blur had formed into an unmistakable shape.

  “Who’s crashing our party?” Rick asked. He grabbed the flight controls and braced his foot against the floor.

  “Medium craft. Not Federation,” Violette answered. “Trying to pull up better visuals.”

  Rick pressed a button for the ship-wide comms and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your handsome pilot speaking. Hold on to your asses. We’re going to do a little fancy flying this fine dark afternoon.”

  He left the comms open, not wanting to stop flying to mess with announcements.

  Rick glanced at Violette. She gave him a nod, strapping herself in. He waited a few seconds to let everyone brace themselves before he jerked the controls. The nose of the ship dove downward into deep space. The nebula left the corner of the viewing screen, replaced by the empty black.

  Gravity controls destabilized, and he lifted in his seat before they slammed him down once more.

  “Whoo,” he yelled, jerking the controls again as he turned the craft into a hard left.

  He leveled out, and they both watched the radar to see what the ship would do. The sound of Violette’s breath punctured the silence as they waited.

  “Maybe they’ll pass us,” she hoped.

  For several seconds it continued on course before sharply turning to follow. A tiny blur lit up the radar, zooming toward them.

  “Or fire on us,” Violette ground out as she furiously worked the controls. “Pull up!”

  Rick took her advice. They felt the partial impact as it struck. The ship groaned as the blast skittered across its belly.

  “Those bastards try to hurt my girl? Don’t you worry, we’ll take care of them.” Rick patted the ship’s console once before returning fully to the controls.

  “Analyzing blast,” Violette said, ignoring his strangeness. “Nothing is pulling up in our records.”

  “Alexis said the energy felt Ingeniarian.” Lochlann’s voice boomed over the comm a little too loudly.

  Fainter, they could hear Alexis’ voice mumbling, “…irrelevant to the…”

  “Rick,” Harper’s voice sounded on the comm, “if it’s Ingeniarian, fly toward the nebula. Bucky tries to avoid them. He claims the natural interference messes with his bio arms.”

  “Thank you, starbeam.” Rick shifted directions, aiming for the nebula. “Vi, I need you to divert power. We’re making a run.”

  “We don’t know what formed that,” Violette warned. “You said you thought it was manmade. How sure were you of that?”

  “We have two choices, nebula or blasters.” Rick had determined there was about a twenty-five percent chance the nebula was harmless. He chose not to repeat those odds out loud, seeing as how Prince Bucky and his bio-guards were zero percent harmless. “The way I see it, the best case if Bucky overtakes this ship is that we find ourselves stitched up and working in a factory for the rest of our lives.”

  Violette pulled up a viewing screen. “Diverting power now.”

  “It’s about to get dark,” Rick announced to the crew. “Strap down and hold on.”

  His heartbeat quickened, and he zeroed in on his task. This is what he lived for. He knew his ship, and he knew the skies. Knowing Harper was on board only made him more determined to keep everyone safe. Bucky might side stitch most of the crew and put them to work, but that was nothing compared to the torture he’d dole out for a woman who had betrayed him. Men like that were always the same—spoiled little rich boys who were never denied a thing in their lives.

  The lights from outside the corridor flickered and darkened.

  “Ready,” Violette said.

  “Almost, almost…” He pulled the controls, lining up his new flight path. “And… now!”

  Violette slapped her palm down on the control that would initiate a power surge and held it firm. The ship jerked before speeding up. The metal walls began to shake.

  “Come on, baby, come on,” Rick pleaded. “Give it to me, baby. Come on. Just a little faster.”

  The nebula began to fill the viewing screen as he aimed toward its center.

  “We’re starting to get interference.” Violette released the control before she started slapping her hand on the console.

  “Hey, easy on my girl,” Rick protested. “She likes a gentle touch. Don’t you, baby?”

  “I’m not sure if I should be jealous of a ship,” Harper’s voice piped in over the comms.

  Rick grinned. “There’s plenty of Rick to go around, ladies.”

  “What does she see in you?” Violette muttered even as she gave him a quick grin. She punched the console with her fist. “Dammit. Radar is out. We’re flying by sight.”

  The viewing screen flickered, disrupted by whatever was creating the nebula as they neared the space dust.

  “We’re flying by feel,” Rick corrected.

  “Rick,” Dev’s voice warned.

  “Don’t worry, big fella, I got this,” Rick answered. The viewing screen went completely dark. Rick pushed the comm button, shutting it off so the others couldn’t hear what was happening. “Let’s not tell them we’re flying blind.”

  Violette braced her hands and nodded. She alternated her attention between the dead radar and the viewing screen as if willing it to come back on.

  “Rick?” Lochlann’s voice sounded.

  Rick ignored the captain. He eased the ship to the left, trying to visualize where the nebula was. Suddenly the lights flickered off, and they were in pitch black. He fe
lt the hum of the engine as the ship continued through deep space. Metal rattled so hard his seat vibrated.

  “Rick?” Violette whispered.

  “Just a little more,” he answered, hoping he was right. He eased the controls to take them farther to the left.

  “We’re too close,” she insisted. “We’re burning too much fuel. We can’t keep this up.”

  The engine stuttered as if to second her concern. He eased left, feeling the ship’s responses to him. He pictured Harper’s face in the nebula, tracking where it should be in the darkness.

  “Violette?” This time the voice was Dev’s.

  “Sorry, buddy. Can’t find the comm controls,” Rick answered, knowing the man couldn’t hear him. The engine stuttered again, jerking harder.

  “What can I do?” Violette asked.

  “Just a little more. Come on, baby.” Rick shut his eyes in the darkness. The longer he could keep the ship on course, the better chance they’d lose their tail.

  Sweat beaded his brow and rolled down his temple. The engines sputtered.

  Please, baby, he silently begged.

  The engines cut out completely. Gentle reverberations of metal sounded behind them as they lost speed. Violette’s breathing became harsh in the darkness.

  “Blasted,” Violette whispered. “No, no, no.”

  “Don’t move.” Rick unbuckled his strap. He ran his hand over the console, feeling his way around the controls. As if on instinct, he began flipping switches and hitting buttons. If there was one thing he knew, it was this ship and how to fly it.

  He also knew that this time, he might have pushed it over the limit.

  The vibrations quieted. Without power, they were floating in the black. It was possible the nebula would suck them in and spit them out as part of a new planet.

  He counted to ten before hitting the ignition.

  Nothing.

  “Rick? What can I do?” Violette insisted.

  “Don’t you worry,” he assured her, hoping he sounded confident. He began flipping switches again. “I got this under control.”

  He thought of his crew, the only family he had. Everything he cared about was on this ship. Maybe he should have tried to outrun Bucky. At least then they wouldn’t be floating dead in the sky.

  He hit the controls again.

  Nothing.

  He tried a third time. His hands shook. They couldn’t go out like this. Not like this. Not because of his flying.

  Please, please, please…

  Nothing.

  Fourth.

  Nothing.

  Fifth.

  Nothing.

  The ship was dead.

  Rick took a deep breath, the sound choppy even to his own ears. Sweat stung his eyes, and he blinked hard. He needed to think of something.

  “Rick?” Violette begged, her panic mounting.

  He couldn’t bring himself to lie so he didn’t answer.

  Sixth.

  Nothing.

  Come on, baby, don’t do this to me.

  Seventh.

  Nothing.

  He tried a new approach, hitting the controls in a different sequence.

  Still nothing.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Rick straightened his shoulders as he stood in the darkness. Tears threatened his eyes. His hands shook. He was out of ideas.

  “Rick, what can I do?” Violette commanded, her voice stern as if to knock him out of his own head. “Let me help.”

  Harper. Violette. Alexis. Raisa. Lochlann. Dev. Jackson. Lucien. Viktor.

  The faces filled his mind, and he knew he was responsible for what was about to happen. Lack of food, or lack of oxygen, or the artificial nebula’s pull—it was anyone’s guess which would get them first.

  The pain and fear built inside him until it erupted in a frustrated growl. He kicked the ship hard, jamming his toes into the underside of the console. Violette gave a little scream of surprise.

  He opened his mouth to apologize for what he’d done, knowing it would not make the reality better.

  The lights finally flickered, and the console came on.

  Out of everything he’d tried, kicking worked. He stared at the viewing screen in disbelief as the image of the artificial nebula lit up the cockpit.

  “There she is. That’s my girl.” Rick attempted to sound at ease even though he was still shaking.

  “What did you do?” The magenta glow cast Violette’s face in a soft light.

  “I told you not to worry. I’m the best pilot there ever was,” he answered, forcing a grin. They both turned their attention to the radar and watched. The unit’s display fluttered but the blur following them was gone. They’d done it—at least for the time being. “Let’s steer out of here. With any luck, Bucky and his bandits will think we’re dead in the sky.”

  “Looking for a new course.” Violette still sounded a little shaken as she pulled up the star charts.

  “What’s happening?” Lochlann demanded over the comms. “Are we hit?”

  Rick pressed the button to answer him. “All good, Captain. Everything going according to my plan. Stay strapped in just a little longer. We might hit some turbulence.”

  He turned off the comm.

  “Some plan,” Violette muttered. “I saw the look on your face when the lights came on. You were as surprised as I was.”

  “My eyes were adjusting to the light.”

  “Sure. That must have been it.” Violette was unconvinced.

  Rick began to take his seat to fly them out of danger when he remembered what he’d told Harper. “Oh, wait.”

  He went to the panel and began typing.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “No other ships are ever going to get this close.” He grinned as he launched a geotag into space, far enough to keep it from being sucked in too soon, but close enough to keep anyone else from bothering to destroy it. “I hereby dub this the Harpy Nebula.”

  “You’re a space cadet,” Violette chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  13

  The food Raisa placed on the table in the ship’s small mess hall looked like nothing Harper had ever seen come out of a food simulator. The colors were vivid, and it lacked the usual manufactured smell that tinted most simulated foods. But that didn’t mean it appeared appetizing. “Try it and tell me what you think. I think I finally have the molecular structure right.”

  Viktor sat at the table next to her as Raisa tried to feed the two of them.

  If they could call this food.

  Harper lifted a brown, narrow piece of what could have been a sort of protein. It sat on the plate next to a pale-yellow mixture. It smelled good, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to put the piece of alien food into her mouth. “What is it?”

  “Bake on,” Viktor answered, taking a piece. “Like it’s baked on the bottom of a pan, and the burnt part is scraped up in strips.”

  Harper wrinkled her nose. That didn’t sound delicious at all.

  “Bacon,” Raisa corrected. “I discovered it on this tiny settlement that drew its roots back to something called Midwest, Old Earth.”

  Harper broke off a piece and slowly touched the tip of her tongue to it. A strange, salty flavor assaulted her mouth, and she gagged. She instantly dropped it. Shaking her head. “No.”

  Raisa frowned. “Really? Everyone else seems so taken with it. What do you normally eat?”

  “Have any nutrient paste?” Harper wiped her hand against her mouth, willing the taste away.

  Raisa wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I hope you’re joking. That was perhaps the worst thing to happen to the culinary arts. What kind of foods do you remember from childhood?”

  Since answering “tree root soup” seemed a little too depressing, she instead said, “Nutrient paste.”

  Raisa carefully schooled her expression. “Were your parents… scientific?”

  “No. They were poor.” Harper gave an uncomfortable smile, wishing fo
r anything to interrupt this conversation that she did not want to be having about her childhood. “I was taken in by a boarding facility, and they fed us paste.”

  What she wouldn’t give to have the lights cut out again, trapping them in darkness. Maybe Harper could crawl out the door before the other two knew she was gone. Rick tried to tell everyone that the blackout had been part of his plan, but she could see it in his eyes that he’d been shaken to his core. She hadn’t pressed him about it.

  “I can’t accept that is what you want to eat,” Raisa said as she went back to the food simulator. “I have plenty of other recipes I can try.”

  Viktor tugged on Harper’s arm to get her attention. He gave her a meaningful look before glancing at Raisa. Under his breath, he said, “Let her feed you.”

  “What?” Raisa called.

  “Tasty bacon,” Viktor said.

  “Thanks.” Raisa rapidly pushed buttons as she programmed food items into the unit.

  “She needs the distraction,” he whispered.

  Harper finally understood why Viktor had brought her here. She sometimes forgot that not everyone was used to facing life-or-death situations. Raisa was sweet, smart, and funny, but she lacked the harder edge of people who’d seen too much. It didn’t mean she wasn’t capable, just that she wasn’t jaded. “This might be a long shot, but do you have the code for the flat meat-bread that they make in the Ven-5 market? I was there once and bought some from a dock vendor.”

  Raisa smiled, nodding in excitement at the request. She clapped her hands a few times. “Yes! I can do that.”

  Viktor winked at Harper and nodded.

  “Oh, bacon.” Rick came toward the table, reaching for the plate.

  “You eat that, and I won’t kiss you later,” Harper warned.

  He instantly whipped his hand back without touching it.

  “No bacon. Bad bacon. Hate bacon.” Rick grabbed her hip and pulled her to him. He planted a kiss on her mouth and murmured against her lips, “Good Harper. Like Harper.”

  “More for me,” Viktor said. The words were followed by the sound of a sliding plate.

  “Here you go. Try this,” Raisa said.

  Harper moved to take her seat as the woman put a rolled piece of meat-bread on the table. Raisa watched her expectantly. Harper took a bite, making a point to smile and nod as she ate. The food tasted remarkably like the non-simulator variety.