Starlight and Candy

by K. T. Flores

  “No, don’t bother chasing after him. What’s he going to do, call the guardians?” Fili laughed, his gaze not leaving hers. He yanked the gun from the guardian to his left and pointed it at her. “You have impeccable timing, sweetheart.”

  She kept her raypistol trained on him. “I could say the same to you.”

  His finger moved to the trigger, and she pursed her lips.

  “You don’t want to do that,” she said.

  “I think I do.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Actually, you don’t.” She glanced around surreptitiously before leaning forward, speaking in a loud whisper, “I know a secret.”

  He raised a brow. “Care to share?”

  “You need me alive.”

  “You’re not that important to me.”

  She smirked. “I know another secret, too. You don’t know how to whisper.”

  He sneered, startling her when he shot into the air. In her momentary distraction, one of the guardians knocked the gun from her grip and kicked her knee. Her legs gave out easily, and she fell to a kneel.

  The guardians placed heavy hands on her shoulders.

  Fili tutted at her, cupping her cheek. “I’m starting to get the sense you don’t like me.”

  “You’re only just figuring that out?” She yanked her face from his hand.

  “Why are you so upset? Did I do something wrong?”

  “You should have never come to my shop that day,” she uttered dangerously. “You fucked up the moment you got me involved in your idiocy.”

  He waved her warning away. “What’s an underworlder to me? Your bodies are my steppingstones. Filthy, but useful.”

  “What do you want? Why did you kill Helden?”

  He snickered, using his gun to scratch his head. “Sweetheart, it really isn’t that deep. People never took Vice seriously. Now, they do. Even you should be able to understand that.”

  She grimaced, wanting to rip the smile from his face. “You’re helping turn Navar into a candy planet because your puny ego can’t handle being disrespected? After the shitty way you treat people?” She couldn’t hide the disgust dripping from her voice.

  He crouched beside her, close to her face, his breath strong with something she couldn’t exactly place. “Vice was a joke! Now, we mean something”—he puffed his chest—“and I have authority. I don’t suspect a grimy rat would know anything about that.”

  She gave a derisive snort. “You think Vice is respected suddenly because they’re playing the drug game? Who would respect that? Underworlders think Vice is a bad joke! We think you are a bad joke. Ask anyone in the street. We’ll laugh until our sides ache. And then we’ll laugh some more until we’re crying.”

  Fili narrowed his eyes, gripping her throat tightly. “Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you.”

  She recognized the funny, plastic smell on him now. He had been doing some type of candy, but she wasn’t sure which one.

  Her hands tightened along her thighs, resisting the urge to clamp around his wrist. Darkness began to crawl across her vision.

  She choked out, “Oh, my bad. Must’ve been laughing too loudly.”

  He let go, shoving her away. His two companions dropped their aim from her head and hauled her up, each grabbing one of her arms.

  Fili ran his nose along her cheek, and then pulled back. “You’ll see. Not even the Coalition can help you now.”

  He was a fool, and she couldn’t stand to be in his presence a moment longer. She growled, bursting forward and headbutting his nose.

  “You stupid bitch! You broke my nose!” Fili roared, holding his face and staggering back.

  “That’s not all I’m going to break!” she thundered back, kicking her legs out wildly. The two guardians holding her arms struggled against her shifting weight, their grips slipping.

  She stomped on one’s foot, then elbowed his face. He immediately tumbled down, but her other captor locked onto her newly released arm. She jerked her knee into the guardian’s wrist, pushing forward, so the hand fell away. The attacker stumbled into her, but a quick jab at the throat left her free.

  “Enact Code NC. Blow this place up,” Fili spat into his holocomm, pointing his gun at her. Blood steadily dripped down his crooked nose, coating his lips and chin as he grinned at her. “You’re going to regret that."

  “Mm, I don’t think so.”

  She moved to try and disarm him, but he shot slightly above her head in warning.

  “Next one’s going straight through your nuisance of a brain. Don’t. Move.”

  She blinked wide eyes, feigning innocence. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Guardian,” she said sweetly.

  He glanced down again at his holocomm, muttering into it. While he was distracted, she wiggled a foot out of her boot, glad she had opted for her slip-ons instead of lace-ups. It was the pair with heavy, chunky heels.

  “Fuck you,” she hissed, snatching her shoe and chucking it at Fili’s chin with everything she had. He tried to shoot again, but his aim had gotten sloppy, the shot landing on the ground a few paces from her. His head snapped back on impact, and he fell to the ground, unmoving for a few moments.

  She snagged her raypistol from one of the fallen guardians, grabbing the other weapons as an afterthought. She flicked on all the safeties, shoving them into her pockets.

  A voice replied over the holocomm, “Understood, sir. Enacting Code NC. You have forty-five seconds to clear the area.”

  She tried to control her breathing, frantically pulling up her holowatch. “Call Cyril, call Cyril! And set a thirty-second timer!”

  Fili began to stir.

  She shoved her shoe back on, running towards the large orchard bordering the warehouse.

  “Tauri, why are you calling—”

  His voice seemed to soothe some of the chaos in her lungs. They hadn’t been caught, then. He sounded far too calm.

  Twenty.

  “Get out! Get out now! The place’s going to explode!”

  “Tauri, what—”

  “No time!” she shouted. “Get as far as you can.”

  “But are you safe—”

  “Yes! You are the ones in danger, not me! Go!” she clicked off the call, weaving between the trees as shouts from other guardians echoed around her.

  Ten.

  She stumbled over roots, landing on her hands and knees.

  Five.

  She scuttled as best she could to the nearest tree, pressing her back into the bark. She scrunched down, hands interlocked over her head in protection.

  Zero.

  The explosion shook the ground, temporarily drowning out the sound of guardian ships flying away.

  She stayed like that for an eternity, ears ringing. It took a few minutes before she realized the sound was no longer in her head, but her holowatch.

  She answered with quaking fingers. “Sparkles?”

  He appeared before her, warm hands quickly pressing against her body to check for injuries. “Tauri? Tauri? Are you okay? Tauri!”

  She blinked at him stupidly for a few moments before remembering he could teleport.

  “Yes, hi,” she dragged out, disoriented. “I—I’m okay.”

  “What happened? I thought you were in the warehouse with us?”

  “Did you not get my text?" She shook her head. “Nevermind, take me home,” she said, latching onto his shoulders. “Please.”

  His eyes roved over her face, and she threw herself into his arms, lips meeting his clumsily. She scrunched the fabric of his collar so tightly, she worried the wrinkles would never come out.

  He was sturdy and insistent against her lips.

  “We’re alright,” he whispered, placing his forehead against hers.

  She nodded, glancing back at the warehouse.

  Nothing remained.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A few days later, Fili was still alive according to the hospital records Polaris had grabbed. A broken nose and some burns, but he would be fine.

&
nbsp; Tauri growled as the mini engine she worked on sparked and stung her nose. She had switched over to the small project after shutting her holopad in frustration. The words on the screen had started to swim. Rereading the same paragraphs had become too tedious.

  She needed something to do with her hands, but the engine project wasn’t helping.

  Tauri shifted uncomfortably on the floor, tapping a foot against the table to wake her leg up. She tightened a screw and tried again. The machinery turned on but sputtered out after a few seconds.

  “Turn off one more time,” she warned, pointing a stern finger.

  But it was a hollow threat.

  Cyril glanced at her and then back to the monitors. Aneel and Polaris were on the other side of the transmission screen, discussing other possible holding facilities but stopped as Tauri cursed at the sparks showering her.

  She looked up, scrubbing a hand across her face. “I’m sorry. My brain is fried right now.”

  Aneel leaned back in his chair, gaze softening. “It’s… a lot. I’ve been reading nonstop since I got to Polaris’, and I don’t know how no one has caught this before. I’ve contacted the Coalition, but there must be a vote before anything happens. In the meantime, let’s get some rest.”

  Polaris waved goodbye. “We’ll be in touch.”

  The transmission faded as Tauri muttered her goodbye. She continued fiddling with a few wires, and a loud pop made her jump back. A thin wisp of smoke exited from the valves. She shoved it away but winced as her engine clattered to the floor.

  Cyril raised a brow, mug hovering near his mouth.

  “It was an accident,” she huffed.

  He stooped to pick it up and then placed her creation back on the low table. She frowned at his offered hand for a moment lefore grumbling as she took it to stand up.

  He took a sip of his drink, then handed it to her. The heat was almost unbearable, but she reveled in it. The sharp and spicy aroma made her think of cold nights when she was tucked away in her garage, her hands covered in oil as her mind got lost in her work.

  She took a large gulp, trying not to make a face as she swallowed. She liked more floral drinks, but Cyril rarely offered things he had made for himself. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  She sank into the couch, wrapping her arms around her shins. She placed her head against her knees, staring at a spot at the floor intensely. Maybe it could answer all the concerns she had.

  Cyril sat beside her, pulling a blanket over them. Everything was quiet, save the soft music floating through the ship. Humming along, she couldn’t suppress her smile as his fingers slowly inched closer to her leg.

  She locked onto his wrist, pulling his hand to rest on her knee and beside her face. His fingers drew shapes along her thigh and cheek idly. He held business documents in his other hand, occasionally marking things with a red pen.

  “I thought nobody used paper anymore,” she teased.

  “Sometimes staring at a screen too long means you make mistakes. This is one of those deals where I can’t afford a mistake.”

  “Is this the one with that Rhynne person?”

  He looked over at her, surprised. “Wow, you do pay attention,” he joked. “It’s a small favor for Aneel. We’re trying to set up a trade route that will go directly through Goam. This is the final proposal we’re going to send.”

  “It’s not looking very red,” she noted.

  He smiled, flipping to the next page. “This may or may not be our twelfth draft. Usually, we do less. But… Kira did most of these.” He cleared his throat.

  “You really miss her.”

  “We would travel together a lot. This is the longest I’ve gone without talking to her in my life,” he grumbled. “She’s a brat, and she’s going to owe me big time once this is all figured out.”

  Affection, worry, and anger played across his face.

  A notification briefly lit her holowatch on the table, and she sighed at the name.

  “You know, my mom and dad keep asking me what I’ve been up to. They’re suspicious as to why I’ve been sending them more money than usual. And more consistently, too.”

  “How are they doing?” Cyril asked, and she saw him watching her from the corner of her eye. Curiosity flooded his tone.

  Unlike her, he talked to his parents at least once a week. He claimed they were business calls, but she’d never heard them talk about taminite beyond “shipments are good” or “shipments need to be better.” She would say hi and exchange a few words, but she never wanted to intrude.

  She shrugged, furrowing her brow. “I try not to think about them too often. And I figured they were safer this way.”

  Her mother and father’s laughter echoed in her head. Phantoms of them danced in the living room to the crackling radio in her head.

  “Where are they?”

  “Mm, they’re a system over on a moon. It was the first place I was going to visit when I left Navar,” she told him. “I helped some guy fix his cargo freighter ship really late one night, and then he told me I was free to take both open spots for the group of people he was scheduled to smuggle out the next morning.”

  She could still smell the cooking spices on her mother, feel the fuzziness of her shawl. Smoke and iron clung to her father. His chapped lips pressed into her cheek. She hugged them both, afraid to let go. But to keep them on Navar was more terrifying.

  I’ll be right behind you, she said into their shoulders.

  But that had been so long ago.

  I guess I’m really behind you.

  She snorted at the thought.

  “I couldn’t… couldn’t separate them or leave them both behind.” She pressed her cheek into her knee, turning towards him. “I would’ve never forgiven myself if I had.”

  “So, you stayed here.”

  “So, I stayed here,” she echoed. “Stuck and miserable. When this is all done, the first thing we’re going to do is see them.”

  He raised a brow. “We?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?” She couldn’t help the sharpness of her tone.

  He smiled warmly, shaking his head. “So long as we go to see my parents, too.”

  Butterflies erupted in her chest, and she wanted to scurry away into her room. She knew her parents would love him the moment he stepped off the ship. They were welcoming, their hugs given out as freely as their opinions.

  But his parents? She wanted them to like her. To approve of her. To approve of them together. But how could they? She was an underworlder, and he was a royal mogul.

  He laughed, poking her cheek and snapping her from her thoughts. “Make no mistake, my parents would adore you.”

  She remained glued to her seat, considering his words.

  “I could suffer a trip across the galaxy, I suppose,” she teased.

  “Yes, poor you. Stuck in a ship with me.”

  She studied his face, rubbing her thumb across the pulse of his wrist.

  “Maybe it wasn’t all bad,” she mused with a small grin. “I met you, after all.”

  Cyril tucked some of her hair behind her ear, tracing its shape. She shivered, eyes darting to his lips.

  “We’re seeing this through to the end. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His eyes narrowed, tightness formed around his mouth.

  “I will do everything I can to make sure you’re safe, too,” she vowed. She placed her hand against his neck, her thumb stroking his jaw. “Fili is still alive. And no one reported the explosion. Do you really believe the Coalition can do anything?”

  “Aneel has already contacted the oligarchs. They’ve started their investigation on Vice.” He furrowed his brow, licking his lips. “I used to not believe in anything. I…” He winced as he considered his next words. “I used to think you were an impossible dreamer. Silly for believing things would change. Silly for believing in other people and silly for believing in hope.”

  She laughed, ruffling his hair. “You don’t have to look so doom-and-gloom abou
t it, Sparkles. I think the same thing sometimes.”

  His expression remained grave. “But now I find myself believing and hoping and wanting, too.” He took a deep, steadying breath. He met her eyes with such intensity, she felt her chest tighten.

  “Cyril…”

  He pressed his lips together and inhaled again. Straightened his shoulders and squared his jaw. She was reminded of the first time he walked into her shop, domineering and majestic.

  “I love you, Tauri.”

  It was said like a command. Simple, direct. Fearless. But there was a vulnerability around his eyes: the slight wrinkle in his brow, the puffs of air between parted lips. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

  “Cyril, I—” But the words clung to the back of her throat, frightened and unsure. She gazed at him, straightening and desperate to convey what she couldn’t say.

  He stole a kiss, pressing his forehead into hers. He filled her head. His fresh scent sank through her skin, found the place in her heart meant for him.

  “I…” she tried again, pressing a hand against his face. But still, the admission of the ardent turmoil in her chest was too frightening, too real. A part of her had always envisioned being alone. Welcomed it, even. But something about Cyril had changed that. It was nice to share herself with someone who understood things she left unsaid.

  He let her fight her own battles and respected her all the more for it.

  He wasn’t everything she had wanted. With his intense eyes and chaotic smiles, he was more.

  He ghosted his lips over hers when the pause was too long.

  “It’s alright,” he said soothingly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

  If she couldn’t tell him, she could at least show him.

  He helped her be brave. Braver than she had ever been. So brave that she pushed him down with reckless abandon.

  Her lips moved against his with urgency and need, his hands trailing down her back, awakening an insatiable hunger inside her. She needed to be closer, needed to feel him warm the places within that she could never reach.

  I love you, too, she tried to tell him with her desperate fingers and peppered kisses. She nipped at his lip, panting as her mind began to fog.