by Eva Delaney
“Livid Company is where you went after leaving our team,” I said softly, flicking a glance at Orion.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Orion rubbed a hand along the back of his neck.
“It’s fine.” I didn’t want him to know that it wasn’t. He’d keep looking at me with needy eyes and then he’d disappear at the end of this mission. He thought I wasn’t good enough before and that hadn’t changed.
I was going to enjoy abandoning him at Vinera.
Orion lingered in the doorway with his arms crossed. I glanced at him. He glanced away and so did I. He cleared his throat. “I…um…better grab the shower before everyone else is awake.” He gave me a forced smile with his eyes oddly sad.
I looked away and didn’t bother to tell him that Rux had probably claimed the sole bathroom already.
I watched Hamal as he tipped a frying pan to let scrambled eggs pile onto a plate. It was strange, sitting here while someone cooked in my kitchen.
He gently hummed a song I didn’t know. The kitchen was warm from the oven and his large body as he passed close by me in the small space. In my addled exhaustion, I thought that this must be what it was like to have a partner or someone to look after you. For one dreamy moment, I imagined that was why he was here: to look after me.
But I knew that was just a delusion that came from lack of sleep.
“There’s a fabricator, you know,” I said. “You pop in one of the ingredients packs, wait thirty seconds, and bam you have a full meal.”
Hamal chuckled, a soft sweet sound. “I’d rather put in the effort.”
“Why?” I said with more derision than I meant. “Why waste time on cooking? There’s a perfectly good fabricator and perfectly good dehydrated packs.”
“I like to look after people, when I can…” he paused with the spatula poised over the sizzling pan like his mind was elsewhere. Before I could ask if he was okay, he started humming again. “That’s why I became a doctor.”
Caring for people. I never knew what that looked like. I ran a hand down my tired face and gave a bitter little laugh.
“It may not be my place to intervene,” Hamal said. He watched me as though studying me for moles. “Orion…he missed you.”
I shrugged. “And?”
“He’s worn that ring every day since I’ve met him. He was searching for you.”
I felt heat rising up my neck and wasn’t sure if it was a blush or anger. I shook my head at him. “You’re playing the wingman. I don’t appreciate it.”
“I don’t play at anything, Calpurnia.” His voice rumbled like a ship’s engine. “Here, you’ll feel better if you eat.”
Hamal handed me a plate piled with scrambled eggs, toast, and a little cupcake. “Be well,” was written on it in smudged icing.
I blinked, stunned.
“Sorry it’s messy. It said farewell originally, but since we’re not losing you, I redid it. Poorly. It’s made with chocolate protein powder so it’s healthy.”
I stared at the smeared words, overwhelmed with an odd tender feeling. Even as a kid, I had to cook for myself. My parents were always working, and they left us behind when the Supremacy invaded. My sister would have cooked, but she had to work to earn money for food.
People had done kind things for me before—Orion, my sister, my last company—but it has been many years since anyone had done something so simple, yet so kind, as make me a cupcake.
“I felt bad about taking your ship,” Hamal added.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I almost wanted to cry, but that was the lack of sleep. “Thank you,” I said with a smile I couldn’t hide even if I wanted to.
Hamal grinned. “Seeing you smile is reward enough.”
Shit, I thought, a tightness gripping my chest. For a few minutes, I had let down my guard. I forgot that I needed to keep these men at a safe distance. If I didn’t, they’d crawl into my heart before walking away.
That wouldn’t matter, except that I had a hard time walking away from them. The wounds never healed.
“It wasn’t just guilt,” Hamal said, sheepishly as though admitting a secret. “Based on everything Orion has told me, you’re sweet as a cupcake.”
I gaped at him, stunned into silence.
Hamal smiled and it made his eyes crinkle. “And just as delightful.”
“Whaa…” I didn’t know what to say or what to think so I jammed the cupcake in my mouth to avoid having to talk.
Hamal smiled and returned to cooking as though I hadn’t made a fool of myself again. As though nothing had happened. Damn him. No man had made me this stricken and dumb before. But he was so warm that I couldn’t hate him for it.
“Hamal,” I said around a mouthful of cupcake. “What happened earlier with the call?”
His shoulders tensed, and his hands went still. “Nothing,” he said. His voice shook a little and he sniffed as though he were about to cry.
He was a terrible liar; something had hurt him. I hoped he would trust me enough one day to tell me.
Fifteen
I emerged from my cabin to shouting. It was already happening. After one day, the crew was breaking apart.
Antares and Orion stood nose to nose in the hallway. If I were lucky, they’d go in for a kiss and solve a couple of my problems in one long tongue wrestle.
Instead Antares roared, “If I ever find you going through my bag again—”
“You’ll what?” Orion said.
“You flyboys think you’re tough as dragon scales,” his voice is low and dangerous. “But you fire on your enemies from a distance, protected by thick hulls. You don’t know what a real fight looks like.”
I shuddered at his cold words. How did I forget, even for a moment, who he really was? A trained killer. Like the men and women in bars who chuckled about killing enemies.
“I’ll show you a real fight,” Orion said.
Antares might be dangerous, but I still couldn’t have battles among my crew. “You’ll do no such thing,” I commanded.
“You can’t blame him for wanting to suss out the scum,” Rux said. He was leaning against the wall and glaring at Antares.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” I said.
“We don’t know what he’s hiding.”
I distrusted Antares more than they did, but we needed him for now. As far as they knew, though, I had the full mission briefing and Antares was unnecessary. I had to make sure they kept thinking that.
“I’m on your side,” Antares said, dropping his dangerous tone for something almost melancholy. “Why else would I be risking my damn life for your fucking cause?”
“You hear how he talks about our cause, Rion,” Rux said.
Did Antares slip up? I eyed him, but he gave nothing away while glowering at Orion.
“I think he needs to learn some manners, Rux,” Orion said.
“Orion,” I said, “did you find anything?”
“I didn’t get a good look before he strolled in like he owed the cabin.”
Too bad. It would have been good to get info about the Supremacy before I had to shut this nonsense down.
“Whether we like it or not, we have to work together,” I said in my most commanding voice. It felt like I was lying to them. Because of course, I had no intention of working with them for long.
But infighting increased the chances of fatal mistakes and wasted my damn time. “Save your hatred for the real enemies. If anyone on my ship starts a fight, he’ll be sleeping on the outer hull. We got a couple of suits with magnetic boots.”
That got their attentions. They were all glaring at me, except for Antares who looked vaguely impressed.
“Now get the other men out of their beds. You have to learn to work as a team.”
Orion grumbled and stomped into his cabin while shouting at Hamal to wake up. Rux glowered at me with eyes like blue fire. I returned the glare before going to the cockpit to check on the Firebrand’s systems.
But my hands trembled on the controls
. It was already happening. The crew was turning on each other. If they couldn’t handle living together, they’d collapse when we faced real threats. I wouldn’t be able to protect them, just like my last company. If I were really unlucky, they’d get me killed too.
If only the general had listened to me.
“Thank you,” Antares whispered behind me. Fuck, he was good at sneaking up on me. You couldn’t trust a bounty hunter.
“I didn’t do it for you,” I said.
He was silent for a long time, and I wondered if he had left. I wouldn’t turn around to look. It would make him think I cared.
“Still…few people have ever fought on my side for any reason. Thank you,” he said.
I gave a harsh laugh. “Nobody is fighting on your side now. I did it for the mission and The Uprising.”
He sighed. “I know. But it was nice that someone trusted me for a while.”
Something in his tone made my heart go tender and without meaning to, I looked back. My gaze flashed over his lean muscled body—damn, he was handsome for scum—and landed on his sad eyes.
He had a scrap of pride from being trusted when he thought he didn’t deserve it. I felt the same way when I was named leader of this mission—before the reality of it came crashing down and ruined it all.
But that had been different. I hadn’t brought this on myself like he had.
I wanted to confront him over his lying, but Rux might be listening. Besides, I didn’t want to get dragged into arguments. I needed to keep my distance for five days, then I could leave them.
Sixteen
“We’ll start with general training: laps, push-ups, and jumping jacks,” I said to the men gathered in the empty cargo bay.
Rux rolled his eyes.
Orion laughed and flashed that charming smile. “There are other ways to see me sweaty, Commander.”
I forced my gaze not to trail over his bare chest. But that meant I had to stare into his glinting green eyes, and that was worse. “You can start running laps now and put on a shirt,” I said.
His eyebrow quirked up and I realized my mistake. I had revealed that he was getting to me. “Nobody is being paid to watch your nipples,” I added.
“That’s just a bonus,” he said, spreading his arms wide and turning in a slow circle.
I sighed loudly.
“Haven’t I suffered enough?” Antares said. I suspected he was being sarcastic, but it was hard to tell with him.
“Never,” Rux snapped.
“You’re right, Commander,” Orion said. “I better not make Antares jealous or he might frown us to death.”
Antares slowly looked Orion over and snorted. “Jealous of what? Mr. Pancake has better abs than that.”
I laughed to show Orion that I didn’t think he was attractive. Unfortunately, my voice sounded strained even to my ears.
“Don’t you have strong abs, Mr. Pancake,” Antares said in baby talk. The little dog gazed up at him and wagged his tail.
“Can we keep the dog and space the guy,” Orion muttered.
Can I space all of them and keep the dog? “Didn’t I give you an order, Orion?” I said to shut him up.
He snapped his heels together and saluted. “Yes, Commander. I’ll get extra hot and sweaty just for you.”
I hated when he called me that. It felt too formal coming from him, as though he were ignoring our long history. And I loved it because he was respecting my position.
He grabbed a white t-shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head before jogging around the cargo hold.
“Do we have to watch him?” Antares said. “That seems worse punishment than running.”
Rux laughed at him, a harsh angry sound.
“Do you ever sound not angry?” I said.
He had the nerve to ignore me. “If you don’t want punishment, you better sit this out. It’ll be humiliating when I finish a lap before you tie your shoes.” He stripped off his black t-shirt.
I tried to turn my gaze from him, but couldn’t. He might have been an asshole, but he was still infuriatingly perfect. I wanted to trace the tattoos, his abs and his cock until he came undone. Until he begged for release.
Then leave him. Make him go without or jerk himself off while thinking about how I used him.
Shit. We couldn’t reach Vinera soon enough. My brain was doing strange things.
Antares fixed Rux with a look as cold as deep space. He dragged his gaze over the other man until Rux shifted his weight and glanced away.
I grinned at Antares despite myself, and he grinned back conspiratorially. It must have looked bad to the others. They already mistrusted him and doubted me. I snapped my gaze to the group. “The rest of you get moving.”
“I’d rather walk,” Polaris said, his voice quiet.
“Pace yourself,” Hamal said and clapped Polaris on the shoulder. “I’ll stick with you through it.”
They ran, and Mr. Pancake stretched out on the floor with his stubby legs behind him. He watched us like a little furry commander.
I put them through drills until they were huffing for breath. That way they couldn’t argue and waste my time. But they still caused me trouble.
I kept catching Orion, Hamal, Polaris, and Antares eyeing me as I grew sweaty and as my clothes clung to me. Every time I saw their looks, something fluttered inside me. Something I wished I could shoot.
I worked them until Hamal’s and Polaris’s t-shirts were soaked and clinging to their chests. It highlighted every muscle I didn’t know Polaris had. And made it difficult to take my eyes from the doctor.
Orion and Rux were glistening with sweat. I couldn’t stop myself from looking them over. Antares was unfazed and not even damp in his long-sleeved black shirt. He was the most impressive. How did he stay so cool and calm? I had a perverse desire to break that cool exterior.
After lunch, we met in the cockpit for battle drills. Orion strutted in without a t-shirt again. He flashed me that rakish grin and raised an eyebrow. “I’m exempt from these drills, right? We both know I’m already an expert on everything.”
“Drop and give me a hundred push-ups,” I ordered. I didn’t tell him to put on a shirt. If he was going to insist on being half-naked, then I would enjoy it. I could watch him out of the corner of my eye to prove that I was in charge and that he had no effect on me. Plus, I’d get to watch his strong shoulders working.
But Orion always seemed to know when I was playing him. “What other games do you like, Commander?” he locked his eyes on mine as he slowly dropped to his knees.
It made my heart flutter. There was so many other things I could do with him.
He dropped to his hands and started doing push-ups. As I glimpsed his shoulders straining, I thought that was how he looked when he was on top of me.
I wanted to slap him. I wanted to shove him out the airlock. I wanted to throw him against the wall and drag my nails down his bare chest.
I shoved the thoughts away and blinked my mind clear to find Rux in the cockpit doorway, watching me with his lips parted. His gaze was intent like a predator watching prey. It sent a tremor down my spine, and I wasn’t sure if it was a tremor of pleasure or dread. Maybe both. I cleared my throat and he glanced away, the look gone.
I pushed the crew through battle drills. I joined them because that was the best way to build rapport, but it felt empty like a lie. I was only melding us into a team as a cover for dumping them later. A commander who didn’t run drills would be suspicious.
I expected the battle drills to be full of whining and mockery. But the men followed my orders precisely. They moved through the drills like trained pros. Orion, of all people, guided Polaris. They tolerated Antares. I liked him because he frowned more than he talked, which was fine by me. At least he was quiet.
After days of practice, we were running through drills as though we’d been working together for years. I was proud of us, and that was more confusing than anything. Why be proud for a team you didn’t want?
/>
I almost relaxed before remembering it was a trap. They’d lure me into a false sense of security. I’d get attached, and one day they wouldn’t be there anymore. Nobody stuck around for long even when I wanted them to.
I knew this wouldn’t last.
Seventeen
My safe, silent ship was no longer quiet. It used to be full of the gentle humming of engines. My voice, the rare time I used it, echoed.
On long journeys, space madness started to creep in, and I believed I was having a conversation with the Firebrand as it echoed back my words. We sang harmonies together that way. It was madness and it passed. Still, the ship felt like company. Like a friend I could trust not to leave me.
Now, I couldn’t hear the rumble of my Firebrand anymore.
Polaris had a console that broadcasted holographic games into the air. The men gathered in Polaris and Antares’s cabin to play it. They filled my ship with shouting.
It reminded me of my last company. It was easy back then to be in the middle of the crowd, laughing together. I thought that was a real family: A group that wrapped you in warmth like a fuzzy blanket.
That was long ago. Back when I was naïve enough to believe those kinds of families existed. The current camaraderie among my crew was temporary, like most things. I couldn’t do temporary anymore. I couldn’t handle another loss.
I turned away and headed for the cockpit, but Orion’s voice followed my steps. “Commander! We need a real pilot in this game.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Orion never admitted I was a better pilot in front of others. It must have been difficult for him to take a shot to his massive ego.
“Come join me.” He smiled warm and sincere, and it plucked at my heart even though I knew better. “We’re playing in teams of two and need a sixth.”
I wasn’t interested in picking sides and fighting against my own crew. That would surprise Orion. I was in the center of every competition when we were fighter pilots together.
I shrugged. “Play on one team. You need to learn to get along.”