She was unarmed and untrained in combat, and even though Kai kept assuring her that she wasn’t in this alone, she still felt very lost. She’d never done much in the way of face-to-face negotiations when she worked with Wethmore and felt woefully unprepared.
A message appeared in her inbox as soon as the Rapture reached Ishka’s orbit and passed a guidance beacon, unsigned and from a disposable transmit address, but she knew who it was from. Dock dirtside, berth 4F, disable engines and cargo bay locks. Leave ship without weapons, proceed to Spacer Café at spaceport and wait. Failure to heed orders will result in consequences.
Kai read the message over her shoulder, his tablet in hand as he made contact with his superiors. “The Fleet will be there,” he said, his voice firm. “You won’t do this alone.”
“Where will you be?”
“Hiding out,” he said. His voice was grim. “Armed.”
She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but he interrupted her. “I’ve been in touch with the Fleet. There are already officers ready to act as soon as you follow these orders from Wethmore. They came in on civilian shuttles according to the last comm I picked up.”
She nodded and waited for instructions from transit control. A bored-sounding voice crackled through the cockpit speakers. “Power down any weapons and engage heavy-air engines. If you don’t have them, you’re as fucked as Ishka’s atmosphere. Sorry.”
Oh, dear. The Rapture had heavy-air engines, but that wasn’t Brya’s concern. She was more worried about the fact that transit control apparently didn’t have the equipment or, more likely, couldn’t be bothered, to scan for any incoming ships with weapons running hot. Her little freighter was devoid of weapons at the moment. They were too expensive and impractical for the types of shipping contracts she usually accepted.
“You might want to sit down and strap in somewhere,” she told Kai. “How often are you onboard a ship docking dirtside?”
“Not much.” But he sat down in the copilot’s seat, strapping himself in and bracing for the onslaught of gravity.
“Sucks to be you.” But not as much as her. Despite her flippant words, her whole body felt like it was tied up in knots at the prospect of seeing Wethmore again, even though Kai kept assuring her she would be fine. “As soon as we land, you hide, no matter how much you might want to puke, all right?”
“Got it. I will try my best not to throw up on your deck.”
“I appreciate that.” The controls lit up as the Rapture’s computers warned her about their impending date with Ishka’s atmosphere and recommended activating her heavy-air engines. “Of course,” Brya said under her breath. “How stupid do you think I am?”
Well, besides getting caught up pirates and smuggling, but at least she was trying to get out of that life.
The ship vibrated and shuddered as the heavy-air engines stuttered on, and Brya immediately felt the hard pull of the planet’s gravity as they began their descent. Even though she’d done this before many times, Brya’s stomach still clenched in protest.
The Rapture handled heavy air with all the finesse of a meteor falling from the sky, but that wouldn’t be an issue for Brya. She heard a surprised yelp from Kai as the Rapture began what felt like a freewheeling hurtle dirtside, but Brya compensated for that, activating manual controls and steering the ship to the docks the computer told her were directly below them. She sneaked a glance at Kai, who gripped the seat armrests and was visibly sweating.
“What the fuck?” He slowly released his death grip on the seat and swiped a hand over his sweaty brow. “Is that normal?”
“On a freighter, yeah. Was this your first time breaking atmosphere on a forty-year-old freighter, Kai?”
“I—yes. It was.”
Her mirth faded as she remembered what was ahead of them. “You need to hide now,” she said, damning the tremor of fear in her voice. She shut off the Rapture’s engines and entered the codes to unlock the cargo bay. She unsnapped her safety straps and stood up on shaky legs, then took a deep breath. “I’m going to the Spacer Café.” She hoped she could find it in time.
She felt like crying. This exchange meant her life with Wethmore was truly and finally over.
And it meant her ship was nothing more than a flying scrap heap.
And she would have to leave Kai behind, again.
Kai stood up from his seat, all trace of his discomfort at the landing gone. He put a proprietary hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving the cockpit. His lavender eyes met hers, and she shivered at the intensity there. Despite the danger she was about to place herself in, desire unfurled in her, a reminder of all the flirting and teasing they shared on this journey, of their single night together.
“You’re going to get through this,” he said. “You made it this far on your own, and you’ll keep doing it.”
You. You made it this far, and you’ll keep doing this. There wasn’t a we in there, and Brya completely understood why, even though she didn’t like it.
A soldier and destitute spacer would never work out. They both knew that.
Still, she stood up to kiss his cheek, but he caught her face in his hands and planted a heady kiss on her lips that forced all reason from her mind. Her arms slid around his neck and she responded eagerly, leaning into him, needing and wanting more.
It was all of Kai she wanted, for the rest of her life. For a few brief seconds, she let herself imagine that it could happen.
The feeling quickly evaporated when the computer pinged another incoming message, undoubtedly from Wethmore. “Go hide,” she said. How many times had she told him that during their journey?
Kai squeezed her hands and dropped a final kiss to her lips. “I’ll be in the maintenance tunnel over the cargo bay.”
“Please be careful. Your leg…”
“My leg is fine. I’ll be able to get into that maintenance tunnel and stay there without any problems. You’ll be fine, too. The Fleet is already in position.”
“How will I know who they are?”
“You don’t, but that’s okay.” He traced the outline of her lips with his fingers as if memorizing her features. “Let’s do this.”
She nodded and reluctantly broke away from him, and then opened the message. Unsigned again, from the same disposable transmit address. Spacer Café, fifteen minutes. Do not be late.
It was time to go.
****
Ishka’s spaceport was sparsely staffed, the building itself dirty and falling apart. The Rapture was the only ship she saw docked in this part of the spaceport, but she knew there must be a ship under Wethmore’s command nearby to transfer the fuel to. Nervousness churned in her gut as she strode through the docking area to the spaceport’s excuse for a commercial sector, but she stood tall, hoping she projected an aura of confidence that she certainly didn’t feel.
The Alliance Fleet is here, she reminded herself. I’m not in this alone.
It turned out that the Spacer Café was only a brief walk away from the docks, a pleasant surprise since Brya couldn’t find any staff to ask for directions anyway. The café was grimy, a light film of filth covering every available surface, and fully automated. Brya didn’t have any money to buy a cup of coffee from one of the replicators anyway, not that she’d want to. The gods only knew the last time the machines’ components were cleaned.
There were a few patrons milling around the café, as shoddily attired and disheveled as one might expect a backwater planet spaceport’s patrons to be. None of them paid any mind to Brya, who slid into an empty chair in the middle of the café. She drummed her fingers on the tabletop, waiting.
Were Wethmore’s men already descending on her ship, taking out the illegal fuel and possibly helping themselves to her personal effects? She didn’t doubt they wouldn’t do that.
Please let Kai be okay.
That was what was most important. As painful a loss as the inevitable scrapping of the Rapture would be, losing Kai would be worse. She was dangerously close to
falling in love with the man—she thought she might already be—and the ship was ultimately replaceable. She didn’t think she could handle losing Kai again.
But you’re going to lose him anyway, she told herself. He needed to stay alive, keep making Alliance space a better place.
She waited, looking down at her hands. She forced herself to stop tapping the table, avoiding drawing attention to herself, and clenched her fingers together until her knuckles turned white. Where was Wethmore? Had he already been taken down by the Fleet?
Deep breath. In, out.
Kai had promised she would be okay. She had to remember that.
A shadow was cast over the table and she looked up to see Wethmore grinning down at her, a demon haloed by the harsh lights blazing from the ceiling. She tried to form a greeting but her tongue felt furry and wouldn’t cooperate. A squeak escaped her instead.
Wethmore plunked down in the seat opposite her. There was a distinct bulge at his side that told Brya that he wasn’t bound to the no-weapons clause part of their deal. “Good to see you got my messages,” he said. “I appreciate that you’re on time.”
She nodded and cleared her throat until she could speak again. “I trust the shipment was in order?”
“It was.”
“Am I free to return to my ship in that case?”
“When I get the signal that everything’s been moved, you can go back.” He flashed a sinister smile at her, teeth unnaturally white against his lips. The man had always been vain, she recalled. “Until I get that, we stay here.”
Where is the Fleet? Her mind raced and she felt her palms start sweating. Shouldn’t they have acted by now?
She was fairly certain he wouldn’t do anything stupid like blow up the Rapture and Ishka’s spaceport out of spite. Wethmore had never been one to embrace destruction for destruction’s sake. She tried and failed to make her heart stop beating so rapidly, almost certain that Wethmore could hear it and figure out what was happening.
Or should happen. Where the hell was the Fleet?
But there was one more thing she needed to ask him. “My boat,” she said. “Why did you install a Q-Bot on her?”
Wethmore looked at her blankly. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The bot that’s eating its way through the Rapture’s systems right now and can’t be uninstalled. I have to scrap her when I get back to Alliance space.”
“Again, no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
His handheld beeped, a chirp that echoed in the nearly empty café. Brya jumped in her seat and Wethmore chuckled. His smile disappeared when he looked down at the handheld’s message, then glared at her. “Bitch.”
His voice was a low growl, and the memory of the night he cut off her fingers rudely intruded, until she remembered something—someone—more precious onboard the Rapture.
They’d found Kai. Brya thought she might throw up. “I…”
He stood up and reached inside his jacket, removing the pistol she knew he’d been carrying. He aimed it at her head, disregarding the other patrons in the café. She doubted they would care, anyway. “You had a Fleet asswipe onboard your scow?” His voice was a low growl, the same tone she’d heard so many times before when she was part of his crew. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners, not wanting his face to be the last thing she saw before he finally killed her.
All the gods in all the heavens, please spare Kai. He deserves that much.
The sharp whine of a laser weapon cut through the air, the beam close enough to singe her ear.
I’ve been shot!
But that thought evaporated when she heard the heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. She dared to open her eyes, numbness pouring through her at the sight of Wethmore’s prone form twitching on the floor’s dirty tiles. An unfamiliar man wearing a stained brown shipsuit rushed over to her, the indicator lights on his weapon still glowing green. She immediately shot to her feet, sure she was about to be arrested herself.
Instead, a middle-aged woman appeared beside him, as shabbily attired as he was, a medkit in her hand.
“Is he dead?” Brya asked.
“Nah, just stunned,” said the man, holstering his weapon. His own handheld trilled from somewhere on his person, and he removed it from a pocket. “Captain Dennir, I’m Lieutenant Anders, this is Janzen.” He nodded at the medic. “Wethmore’s lackeys found Lieutenant Toric hanging out in a duct over the cargo bay. He managed to get a message to us at the same time they told Wethmore he was there.”
“They found Kai?” Brya didn’t bother trying to hide the panic in her voice. “Is he okay?”
“Other than being pulled out of the duct and getting a kick to the ribs, yeah. He’s conscious.” He wrapped a pair of glowing sonicuffs around Wethmore’s wrists. A mewl of pain escaped him but the woman—the medic, Brya guessed—slapped a pain patch on him. The pirate immediately stilled, his body slack.
“Oh, no!”
“Kai’s ribs? They’ll heal just fine.”
How could they be so relaxed about broken ribs? He was still recovering from three laser strikes to the leg, for the gods’ sake! She started to leave the café for the spaceport docks, but the medic placed a hand on her arm, halting her. “Give it a few minutes,” she said. “There’s a larger crew of officers over there arresting everyone and someone will probably get shot before it’s all over.”
“But Kai…”
“The lieutenant is a trained officer who can take care of himself,” she said firmly. “If he had been grievously injured I would have been called to the dock and this guy here”—she shot Wethmore a look of contempt—“would have been left cuffed to the table while Anders watched him.” She nodded at the officer who shot Wethmore. “We’ve been in contact with Ishka’s authorities and the spaceport employees are cooperating with our investigation. Lieutenant Toric’s fine.”
Then there was one more question Brya had to ask. “Am I under arrest?”
“I’m a medic, I don’t deal with arrests. Anders?” She turned to the other officer.
“There’s nothing in my orders that indicates you’re to be detained. Once the petrik has been removed from your ship and you file a flight plan with Ishka’s transit control, you’re free to go.”
Brya sagged against the table, relief pouring through her despite the uncertainties ahead. She was free to go back to Alliance space. Her life was her own again, possibly for the first time ever.
But it would be a life without the Rapture or Kai.
****
Kai expected Brya to be more relieved than she was when she finally reappeared at the dock. Instead, she looked tired and sad, but she summoned a half-smile when she saw him. “Are you okay?” she asked by way of greeting.
“The bone regenerator’s doing its thing. I’m fine.”
“How did they find you?”
It was his own fault for assuming that Wethmore and his thugs weren’t using equipment more sophisticated than they were. “They scanned for humanoid life forms aboard the ship,” he said. “It pointed out my hiding spot. I sent a transmit to the ground team to let them know I was discovered, then let myself drop out of the maintenance tunnel so they wouldn’t start shooting holes in your cargo bay.” His reassurances did little to smooth those creases of worry between her eyes, so he wrapped his arms around her. “One of the guys got a kick in. It wasn’t even a hard one. Brya, I’m fine, really.”
She didn’t relax in his arms, and he felt something shift between them, an almost tangible feeling. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said.
“I had your ship refueled for the trip back to Alliance space,” he said. “I can’t do anything about the Q-Bot.”
She cut him off. “Did Wethmore have anything to do with that? He said he didn’t, but I don’t believe him.”
“And none of his guys are talking. I’ll find out for you, I promise.”
She nodded and pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes. “Is
that it? Can I leave now? Does the Alliance need anything more from me?”
“They’ll be in touch.” Why was she being so distant? “Brya, when we get back…”
“We go back to our lives,” she said firmly.
Kai felt himself blanch.
“Kai, I care about you, I really do. But I don’t think there’s a future for us in Alliance space. We’re too different.”
A wave of dizziness flowed over him, and he closed his eyes, fighting to keep his balance. Not this, not after he’d spent so much time trying to find her. “Brya, I don’t care about any of that,” he said. “Neither does the Fleet. Not really.”
“Kai, I need my independence,” she said weakly. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears and there was regret in her voice, like she didn’t want this.
“We both know you would have that,” he said. “Please don’t lie to me, Brya. I think I deserve more than that.”
Her eyes filled with tears but she brushed them away impatiently. “It’ll be harder to do this after we’ve run a relationship into the ground,” she said. “It’s just best to end it here.”
Mindful that they weren’t alone in the berth, he kept his voice low. “You can’t believe that,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you for years.”
“Kai…”
“I’ve been in love with you a long time.”
“Kai!” This time the sound of her voice attracted some attention. Lieutenant Anders and another grunt Kai didn’t recognize looked their way. Brya glared daggers at them until they turned back to their datapads. “You can’t mean that.”
“Can and do. I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.”
“Kai, just please do this for me.”
“I take it I have to find my own way back to Alliance space, then?”
“At least Fleet ships can travel through hyperspace. You’ll be home in a day or two.” She stalked toward the Rapture, where her cargo bay ramp was still extended. “I can’t deal with this, Kai.”
She couldn’t now, but maybe if he gave her some time she might be willing to try to make things work. “Okay,” he called after her. “Let me get my stuff.”
Rapture Page 11