by Jack Archer
"From what I understand,” Shea said with a nod, holding his head up, and Rystar stood just behind him, breathing deeply.
Galgudi cleared their throat and brought their clasped hands to rest in front of them. “I say again, due to your status and your relationship with Jorge Lewis, I will allow you to speak with Balee Wylo under strict supervision.”
“Thank you, Warden, we really appreciate it,” Shea said, bowing his head. “We won’t be long, I promise.”
The Warden huffed and flicked their head towards a hallway where the two guards beckoned Rystar and Shea to follow. The Qartzls were long and lanky, their ultra-black skin scaly in the low lights of the complex. Their legs bent backward at the knee, presumably for quick swimming, and the frill gills on the sides of their head shimmered as they breathed.
The guards ahead of them began to talk in their native language, and Rystar and Shea continued to follow them down each winding corridor and finally into an elevator.
“What did they mean, your relationship with Jorge?” Rystar asked when the doors had slid shut. “I thought you said you got fired, too.”
“I thought I was. Maybe the paperwork hasn’t gone through yet,” Shea hissed back. “I told you my old credentials might work. Just be glad they did.”
Rystar huffed and folded her arms, not liking how easy the situation was at all.
“So, what’s the strategy?” Shea asked her.
“Just going to ask her about the Hoop,” Rystar said, unfolding her arms and sighing, “see what she knows about it, where it is, et cetera, et cetera.”
The doors slid open, and they all exited the elevator into a room bathed in darkness save for a few cage lights hanging on the walls. Rystar blinked a few times to adjust before following the Qartzls out into the hallway and past several jail cells. Crying reached her ears from one of the cells, a soft smattering of tears on the floor, and Rystar shuddered.
They stopped in front of a cell near the end of the hall, and the guards flanked them, guns at the ready. One of them flicked the tip of their gun at the cage. “Here is Wylo. Few minutes.”
Rystar nodded and approached the cage, noticing a dark figure in the corner of it. “Balee Wylo?”
“Come from the TAQ to kick my ass again?” the hoarse voice from the corner came.
“No, my name is Rystar, from the Federal Department of Defence Services,” Rystar hurried on, placing her hands on the cage bars, “I’m here to ask you about the Hoop.”
Balee hissed at her, the dark form standing up and rushing to the front of the cage. Wild brown eyes met hers, and Rystar took a step back, her eyes roaming over a mess of bright pink hair, black at the roots, and a harried face that told her the Hoop was nothing but trouble. “Shut the fuck up, they don’t understand much of what we say, but you can make damn sure they know what the H-O-O-P is.”
“I’m sorry,” Rystar mumbled, taking another step closer to Balee and the cell. “We need to get there. Can you tell me where it is?”
“You’re Terran, like me,” Balee said, completely ignoring her. She backed off from the cage, her eyes losing a little of their fire. She was a short woman, her shirt and pants in tatters. How long had she been here? “Why do you need to know about it?”
“We need to get the son of the leader of Chantakor there,” Rystar replied, keeping her voice down and an eye on the guards behind her.
Balee’s eyes widened, and she gripped the bars of the cage. “The leader of Chantakor has no son.”
“He’s a Ya’ados,” Rystar explained, “his father is human, married to the ruler of Chantakor.” Balee’s eyes widened, and she gasped.
“A true Ya’ados? Wants to go to the Hoop?” Balee repeated, looking down at the ground in thought. “Who else is with you?”
“I’m traveling with my apprentice here—” Rystar nodded to Shea “—and a band of Sustri pirates who are taking us to there, provided we can find it. We’ve already looked in some databases but there’s no information on it.”
“There wouldn’t be,” Balee said with a shake of her head, moving to the back of her cell. She was dusting off the cobwebs in her head, it seemed, as she brought out a worn journal and flipped through the pages before stopping on one and holding it out to Rystar. “But here, this is where it is. You have to make it out there and save them.”
“Wait, save who?” Rystar shook her head, pulling out her tablet to type out what was on the journal before cursing herself and just taking a picture of the journal page. She turned around to the guards and gestured to the tablet and journal. “Chili recipe.”
“I was caught out on the Hoop by the Terran military a few weeks ago,” Balee explained in a low voice, “I don’t know who’s out there now. They might have gotten everyone. But you have to go check. Please.”
“Alright, I’ll go check,” Rystar soothed, putting her tablet away and nodding. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. Whatever it is.”
“Thank you.” Balee closed her eyes and faded back into the cell.
“Can we get you out of here?” Rystar ventured.
“Not unless you have specific permission from the head of TAQ,” Balee chuckled from her corner.
“Jeez,” Rystar muttered and turned to the guards when it was clear they had gotten as much information from Balee as they were going to get. “We’re done.”
The guards nodded and headed back towards the elevators, Rystar and Shea close in their wake.
“This is 25 jumps.”
Lupe was beside themselves, staring at the star map like it had offended them personally. Rystar was just as perplexed, one hand propped up on the dash as she looked at the convoluted pattern the jump path made. Lupe held up their hands and turned to face Kyran. “This will take weeks. We’ll need several food stops, and most of these jumps run through Atrex territory.”
“Well, good thing this ship has guns,” Kyran said in that specific drawl of his. Rystar looked on, not wanting any truck with the Atrex. They had too much beef with the Sustri, and they sure didn’t like Terrans at all. “Let’s go ahead and make the first three jumps. Where does that land us?”
Lupe shook their head and settled back down in front of the console to pull up the system three jumps away. “Somewhere in the HR7162 systems, doesn’t look like there’s anything but rocks there. We can stop at a spaceport and gas up.”
“How much longer?” Kyran asked and threw himself in a chair behind the console, kicking his feet out in front of him.
“Don’t be grumpy about it,” Lupe chastised, turning around in their chair to face Kyran.
Lupe smiled and clasped their hands in front of them. “Give it another day, and we’ll be good to go. I’m going to make dinner, any requests?”
“Not the same soup you’ve been making for the past three nights,” Kyran grumbled.
“What was that?” Lupe held a hand to their ear as they stood up from their chair and began to head towards the elevators. “All I heard was ‘I can’t cook, and I’m still complaining about the food.’”
Shea jumped from his seat as Rystar laughed at the scowl on Kyran’s face. “Hey, if you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you and help.”
Lupe held the elevator doors open to let Shea through and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yakli, I don’t know much about Terran cuisine.”
“I don’t know much about Sustri cuisine. Maybe you could teach me,” Shea said and smiled. Rystar’s own smile settled down. She was glad Shea was starting to get along with the crew after their conversation in the shower. The elevator doors closed, and she stared out of the space shield at the gigantic yellow sun, little solar spots launching out from its surface in great arcs.
“You and I should talk soon,” Kyran said from across the room, and Rystar flicked her eyes over to where he sat. He had leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fixing her with a heated gaze. She gulped but rolled her eyes and stood up.
With a fake salute, Rystar rose from her seat and cros
sed the room to brush past him. “Sure thing, Captain.”
Before she could move towards the elevators, he grabbed her wrist to hold her next to him. “You’re not in trouble, yípsupse.”
Rystar jutted her chin out and let his cold fingers continue to wrap around her wrist for a moment before pulling it away and brushing some hair from her eyes. “Wouldn’t care if I was.”
Chapter Nine
Shea Hendi: DSV Firehawk, Yarev Space Port
He had an entire cycle to kill and nothing to do. Working with Lupe in the kitchen had been a nice distraction, but he hated lying to Rystar about his status with the FDDS.
So he played chef with Lupe and learned so many things about them, everything from where they grew up to how the Sustris viewed gender and sexuality and even relationships.
“So, you’d say that being in multiple relationships is a thing with the Sustri?” Shea asked casually, flipping noodles in the pan before him.
“I’d say so, for sure,” Lupe responded, cutting up some foreign vegetables on the counter. “We live so damn long, it’s impossible to focus on one specific person for our whole lives. Some of us have three or four partners.”
“That’s actually kind of cool,” Shea admitted. “Have you ever had multiple partners?”
Lupe looked to him and raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at their lips, and Shea winced.
“That was a little personal, sorry,” Shea chuckled, but Lupe finished his cutting and moved over to drop the vegetables into the pan.
“I did, a few times,” Lupe said with a shrug and began to slice something else Shea couldn’t identify. “Decided I liked flying more.”
“Good choice, probably,” Shea said with a snort, and Lupe tilted their head in agreement. “Sometimes, it’s better to focus on yourself. Did you ever get lonely?”
“Plenty of times,” Lupe said. “That’s the main reason I joined this crew. It’s got all the dynamics of a relationship without actually being one. Kind of perfect.”
Shea nodded, wishing his relationship with Rystar was a little simpler. Not that he minded a challenge, but after his talk with her about a relationship with not one other person but six, he found himself a little on the uneasy side.
“How do you balance all that?” Shea asked. “How do you not get jealous?”
Lupe chuckled. “I don’t think the Sustris know what jealousy is. It’s never an emotion that evolved with us. Might be evolutionary, might be our nature, but we just never got to experience that particular emotion.”
“Lucky you,” Shea snorted. “I don’t see the point in it.”
“You’re saying you don’t get jealous ever?” Lupe said, turning to raise their eyebrows at Shea.
“I definitely do, but it’s distracting,” Shea explained.
“What’s it distracting you from, do you think?” Lupe asked, and suddenly Shea felt as if he should be sitting on a chaise lounge while Lupe looked on with a pad and pencil. He pondered on the question for a moment, scooting to the side while Lupe dumped more food in the pan.
“It’s as if I’m not able to love clearly,” Shea continued. “The jealousy is clouding my ability to love completely.”
Lupe nodded wisely and sat back against the counter, folding their arms while Shea continued to stir the pan around on the stove. “Sounds right. You’re afraid she won’t love you as much if she falls in love with Kyran, too.”
Shea nearly dropped the pan but kept his head steady as he looked at Lupe. “Is it that obvious?”
“It’s a small ship,” Lupe said with a shrug and scratched the back of their neck. “Also, Kyran has talked about nothing but the pair of you since you got on board.”
“You mean since you kidnapped us,” Shea pointed out, waving his spoon around in Lupe’s direction but smiling good-naturedly.
“Hey, we said we were sorry,” Lupe said.
The elevator doors opened, and Enzo and Kyran walked out, crossing the room to the dining table and sitting down. Kyran threw Shea a toothy grin and winked. “Lupe got you in here slaving over the hot stove?”
“It’s fun to cook,” Shea insisted, turning the fire from the stove off and pushing the pan to another burner. Lupe brought down a few bowls and began to fill them with the food, passing the first one to Shea.
“It’s more fun to eat,” Kyran huffed and pulled out his comms tablet, swiping through the endless scroll.
“Here,” Shea said, holding his bowl out to Kyran, who looked him up and down with a strange smile on his face. “I’ll get another bowl.”
“At least someone on this ship is a true gentleman,” Kyran said, taking the bowl and thanking him before Shea walked back to the stove for another bowl. He sat down next to Kyran and tucked in, keeping his eyes on the bowl.
But Kyran had other plans and leaned forward in his seat, planting both feet on the ground and resting his elbows on his knees. He laced his fingers together and put his hands in front of his mouth, studying Shea intently.
Shea continued to eat, picking up his bowl and swiveling the chair to face Kyran head-on. He crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back in his chair, taking another bite of his food and smiling.
Kyran took a deep breath and moved his hands from his mouth, letting them fall between his knees. “So where are you from, Hendi?”
“Montgomery, same as Rystar,” Shea answered. “How about you?”
“Inebus, fun little town,” Kyran shot back, his hips moving back and forth to make the chair swivel. “Got any family?”
“No,” Shea lied, not wanting to get into that subject just yet. “You?”
“Back on Braluria,” Kyran responded. “Don’t know what they’re up to these days.”
Shea raised an eyebrow and took another bite. “By choice?”
“Not necessarily,” Kyran said with a tilt of his head. “How long have you and Rystar been together?”
“Couple of days,” Shea said before he could catch himself.
“Thanks for playing,” Kyran said and winked at him before leaning back in his chair and picking up his own bowl. “I meant how long you had two been riding together as partners.”
“Just a couple of months,” Shea answered, shaking his head a little and turning in his chair to set the bowl on the table again. “She didn’t really want a partner.”
“Doesn’t sound like her,” Kyran said, and Shea looked over to catch Kyran rolling his eyes in sarcasm.
“Took her forever to warm up to me,” Shea continued, noticing how easy it was to open up to Kyran, just like Rystar had said. He demanded Shea’s attention.
“Did she have a bad partner in the past?” Kyran asked, picking at his food.
“She never got around to telling me,” Shea said with a shrug. “I figured she would open up to me when she was ready.”
“Good call,” Kyran chuckled.
They lapsed into silence for a moment, eating their respective dinners while Enzo continued to type away at his tablet and Lupe cleaned up the kitchen. When he was done, Shea pushed back from the table and grabbed his empty bowl to bring to the kitchen. Lupe grabbed it from him and smiled as Shea nodded his thanks.
“Leaving so soon?” Kyran asked, and Shea put his hands on the back of his chair.
“Got a phone call to make,” Shea said, drumming his fingers before pushing back and standing up straight. “But you should talk with Rystar.”
“About?” Kyran asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Whatever you want,” Shea said with a shrug and headed towards the elevator. He waved as the doors closed, and it took him to the bedroom wing.
No one was in the corridor, and he headed straight to his room, kicking himself for sending Rystar into the arms of someone else but happy he was able to overcome the hurdle. The first of many, it seemed. He shut the door to his room and crossed it to grab his comms tablet, noticing several missed messages from Jorge Lewis. With a sigh, he tapped on Jorge’s name to call him.
The line ran
g several times before Jorge picked up, and Shea sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes.
“Well?” Jorge snapped from the other end of the receiver. “Were you able to get the location of the Hoop?”
“I’m not doing this anymore, Jorge,” Shea said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his heart hammering against his ribcage. “I can’t give you the location, and I’m not doing this double agent thing. I quit.”
“You quit, Hendi, and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” Jorge warned, his voice venomous from across the galaxy.
“I didn’t think you’d come killing people,” Shea hissed into the phone.
“What did you think would happen?” Jorge spat back.
Shea couldn’t answer, only that he had massively underestimated how badly the Terran government wanted Na’gya gone.
Jorge sighed and spoke again. “Is this group of folks you’re with worth it? Is Rystar worth it?”
Kyran’s plead during their stay on Glasport 2 ran through his mind again, how vicious and caring these Sustri were. Rystar, giving up everything she had ever known to help Na’gya and the Ya’ados. His hand slid down his face and cupped his chin as he sat his elbow on his knee and steeled himself.
“Yes,” he said simply.
He pressed ‘end’ on the call and set his tablet down next to him, letting out a breath of relief and allowing his heart to calm down. Jorge had approached him when Rystar had made her final announcement and asked Shea to stay on board. In return, Shea would give them information about their whereabouts and what they were doing.
He knew Ju’sif’s blood was on his hands now, and he couldn’t live with that alone.
Shea stood up from his bed and crossed the room to leave, throwing open the door and trotting down the hall to Rystar’s room. He knocked a couple times and tapped his foot, playing with the hem of his shirt as he waited.
The door opened, and she stood there, tank top and jeans hugging her every curve. Shea had to shake his head to get a grip. “Rystar, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Sure, come in,” she said, eyebrows stitching together as she opened the door wider for him to enter.