Delivery (Star Line Express Romance Book 3)

by Alessia Bowman

  “Then we’re going to get the hell out of there,” I say.

  “Didn’t Niya say she made arrangements with her pal Ozker?”

  “We’re making this as unofficial as possible,” I say. “No control room, no Ozker, no landing strip. Unnecessary.”

  “Just what else are you willing to do for this female you’re not at all interested in and don’t want to mate with?” Nik says as he opens the bottle and pours us both our fifth drink.

  “I’m doing what was requested,” I say. “Nothing more. Except without the interference of the one person who could fuck it up.”

  “You mean Niya,” Nik says.

  I nod and pick up my glass.

  “How many has he had?” Chlo, who’s just snuck into the mess, says. “That isn’t his fifth, is it?”

  “I’m not counting,” I say as I quickly down my fifth shot of the best brandy in the Seven Galaxies.

  “I’m afraid it is,” Nik says, winking at me. “But he needs it. Because even the reckless Joston Lynar needs an extra dose of recklessness tonight.”

  “Hell,” Chlo says. “I wish Lasson were back—he never would’ve let Joston drink this much. But I guess Lasson’s still in negotiations. He told me they could go on until tomorrow.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say. My hands are itching for the transport raft controls. I try to picture the layout of Niya’s adorable house but all I can think about is her bedchamber . . . and what we did there.

  “Aren’t we going to pass by the Triangulum shipments locker on our way to the raft?” Nik says to Chlo as we head out.

  “I thought you were my friend,” I say to Nik.

  “I am,” Nik says.

  “What are you two talking about?” Chlo says.

  “His future wife,” Nik says.

  “Oh,” Chlo says. “I’m so glad that Niya finally found someone, although I’m a bit surprised it’s you.” She elbows me. “She could have done so much better.”

  “I thought you were my friend,” I say to Chlo.

  “I am,” she says. “But we’re running late. I’ve got everything fixed with Ozker, but we have to be there exactly when we’re scheduled.”

  Chlo breaks out into a run and Nik and I do likewise, following her to the flight deck.

  No time to stop at the locker where the shipments to the Triangulum are kept.

  No time to think about how everyone but me is so sure that Niya and I are some kind of a couple. Or worse.

  Chapter 16

  Niya

  Right before the intermission, right during my favorite scene in the first part of Parst, the scene where the bomb that Joston’s set to explode fails and he’s forced to go back to the site and detonate it by hand and you’re almost rooting for him except you’re also wishing that he’ll fuck up and get killed—right before the most exciting part of that scene, Aymee jabs me in the ribs and motions for me to follow her. Then she grabs my hand and starts pulling me out of my chair.

  I look at Aeryen, who’s so intent on the vid that he doesn’t even notice I’ve gotten up, but I catch Draybirge’s eye—he’s sitting right next to Aeryen—and he nods. He’ll look after him.

  I can hardly see, but Aymee’s Chorynean, so I let her lead the way, guiding me through the pitch-dark room and out into the corridor.

  “I thought we were meeting them at the intermission,” I say once we get out of the theater.

  “It’s Lasson,” Aymee says. “He hasn’t been able to get through to anyone until now. He just commed me, said the palace is being attacked, he’s trapped inside, and could I send Joston down to get him out of there.”

  “This has been brewing for a long time,” I say. “Even back when Chlo was still on Engra. Did you comm Joston yet?”

  “I can’t!” Aymee says. “His comm’s off.”

  “Hell!” I say.

  Aymee is charged up. And even though I’d thought she could barely get up from her chair, she’s now half running down the corridor toward the flight deck, one of the few places on the Marinax whose location I know.

  I try to raise Joston on my comm, but his comm is still off. So is Nik’s. And Chlo’s.

  I can tell that Aymee’s doing the same thing, since every once in a while she says, “Damn you!” then starts running faster.

  We get to the flight deck, thinking we’ll see everyone there, since it’s almost time to meet them, but not only are none of them here and not only do none of them have their comms turned on, but Aymee has a look on her face that tells me that something is dreadfully wrong.

  “What is it?” I say.

  “Transport raft three,” she says.

  That was the raft Joston used. The raft Joston, Aeryen, and I used. Except I look at the docking space where Aymee’s looking and I see what she’s seeing—or not seeing.

  The raft’s gone.

  “Damn you, Nik Arca,” Aymee says. “What the fucking hell are you doing?”

  “They left without us,” I say. “I cannot believe they left without us!”

  “Okay,” Aymee says. “Can you get through to any of them?”

  “No,” I say. “I’ve been trying since we left the theater.”

  “The three of them,” Aymee says. “When we find them I’m going to lock them in the hotbox and throw away the key.”

  “What is the hotbox?” I say as I eye the flight suits hanging on the wall next to me.

  “A temperature-controlled storage locker,” Aymee says. “It’s about two billion degrees in there.”

  “You say that like you’ve been in there.”

  “I have,” Aymee says. “I’ll tell you later. But right now we have to figure out what we’re going to do. How we’re going to contact my husband and our former friends and alert them to what’s happening on Engra. On what’s happening to Lasson.”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to contact your former friends, but I do know what we’re going to do.”

  “Tell me,” Aymee says.

  “You’re going to stay here and I’m going to put on a flight suit and a helmet, get in one of these transports, and land on the roof of the palace. After that, I’ll figure it out.”

  “Great plan,” Aymee says. “Except for one detail. I’m coming with you.”

  I start to argue but by then Aymee’s already stepping into a huge flight suit—one that’d probably fit the giant Draybirge and that Aymee needs in order to cover her very pregnant belly—so I follow her lead, grabbing a flight suit and getting into it myself.

  “Nik Arca is the most infuriating male in the universe,” Aymee says as she sets the flight deck’s controls so we can take off without assistance. Since everyone, except a skeleton crew at the helm, is in the theater, it’ll be a while before anyone notices that not just one, but two transports are missing.

  “I’d have to think that honor goes to Joston Lynar,” I say.

  “Deny all you want, Niya, but, assuming we all get out of this alive, my money’s on the two of you.”

  I glare at Aymee as she wedges herself into the copilot’s seat.

  “Wait,” I say. “Aren’t you going to pilot this thing?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Aymee says. “You’re going to.”

  “But—”

  “You mean?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean,” I say. “I’m a flight controller. Not a pilot. I was counting on you. You’re the ship’s chief engineer. You must know how to fly this thing.”

  “I do,” Aymee says.

  “Then sit in the pilot’s seat, where you belong,” I say.

  “I do know how to fly it . . . theoretically,” Aymee says.

  “But not actually?”

  “Well,” she says.

  I get into the pilot’s seat and close the raft’s lid. What the hell. I’ve arranged for the takeoff and landing of about 157 million of these transports, give or take. I’ve been in loads of them during flight and heard innumerable pilots describe every procedure. And I�
��ve helped Ozker study for his pilot exams.

  “I shouldn’t let you come with me,” I say to Aymee, who’s smiling a great huge smile, obviously thrilled by what we’re about to do. “But I’m going to need your help to fly this thing.”

  “I probably shouldn’t let you fly this thing,” Aymee says. “But I wouldn’t know how to find the palace without you. And we have no way of knowing if Lasson’s been able to contact anyone else.”

  “Let’s go,” I say. “Ready?”

  Aymee does something on the dash, the array lights up, I visualize the materials from Ozker’s textbooks and engage the controls, and we sail out of the Marinax like two experts.

  Two pissed-off, scared shit experts.

  Chapter 17

  Joston

  In order to stay as concealed as possible, we’ve had our comms off the whole flight. Since we’re on schedule and Ozker knows when to account for our entry so no one else will care, there’s no need to turn the comms back on.

  Even if something might be eating at me, because something is eating at me.

  We talk in whispers. The raft itself is nearly noiseless and no one’s looking for us, so we’re as though invisible. But we keep our voices down. Don’t want to accidentally call attention to our presence here.

  “Chlo,” I say. “When was Lasson due back? Originally?”

  “This afternoon,” she says. “But he did say it could be longer. Why?”

  “Something’s bothering me,” I say. “I can’t quite place what exactly it is, but why would some simple negotiations take this long?”

  “How do you know they’re simple?” Nik says. I’m letting him fly the raft for a while while I sit back and let whatever’s eating me work its way forward from the back of my skull.

  Nik’s enjoying piloting almost as much as Aeryen would. Well, as much as anyone would. There’s nothing like flying. It’s incomparable. It’s my lifeblood.

  “They’re supposed to be pretty straightforward,” Chlo says. “He’s offering to upgrade the entire Engra comm system for an obscenely low cost. His proposal is more like a gift than a business deal. I don’t understand exactly, but he told me that the market on Engra is ripe for expansion and that he wanted to start off by basically giving them something. That profits would follow. Inevitably. At least that’s what he said.”

  “He told me that he’s negotiating to get your medical license reinstated,” I say, shocking both Chlo and Nik.

  “He isn’t,” Chlo said. “He would have said something to me.”

  “He wouldn’t have said something to you,” I say. “Because he didn’t want you to know about it. It was supposed to be a surprise. And, you know, if it didn’t work out . . .”

  “I wouldn’t’ve gotten my hopes up,” Chlo says. “Even though I have no hopes in that direction. It’s been so long since I’ve been a doctor that . . .”

  “That you’ve given up?” Nik says. “That doesn’t sound like you at all, Chlo.”

  “I just don’t expect it to happen,” Chlo says.

  “Lasson expects it to happen,” I say.

  “That’s why he was talking to me about your getting reinstated,” Nik says to Chlo. “I thought he was just speculating about what would happen if it happened.”

  “I should have realized when he told me how much the new comm system was going to cost Engra,” Chlo says. “But I didn’t connect the two. Even though he asked me a couple of times if I was sorry I wasn’t able to land on my home world.”

  “What the fucking hell is that?” I say as I spot an area of the capital city that’s lit up like it’s the kind of holiday where you turn on all the lights and everyone parties until they collapse of boredom or extreme inebriation.

  “That’s the palace,” Chlo says. “They do that sometimes. Must be a special occasion.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Nik says as he puts down the visor on his helmet. Helps with night vision. It makes even my acute night vision better, so I do the same with my visor.

  “There’re a helluva lot of military-looking formations down there,” I say, taking over the controls from Nik. “Is that the Engra idea of a celebration? Bring out the troops to give everyone a look at just how powerful the monarchy is?”

  “They do do that sometimes,” Chlo says. “But—never at night.”

  “Joston,” Nik says, pointing. “Did you see that?”

  “Fucking right I saw that,” I say.

  “What?” says Chlo.

  I can feel her bristling nerve ends from here, even though I know for a fact that she’s got solid, unbreakable nerves. Hardly anyone else I know would’ve been so cool, hanging out of that aircar in the midst of a forest fire, with her lover’s life on the line.

  “What?” Chlo says again.

  “Cannon flare,” Nik says.

  “There’s another one,” I say, lowering my voice.

  “That can’t be a celebration,” Chlo says. We’re all careful now, whispering again.

  “There’s a damned war going on down there,” Nik says while I swoop the raft outside the perimeter so we won’t be seen.

  Chlo grabs hold of my upper arm.

  “Lasson,” she says. “He’s supposed to be in the palace. He’s not just negotiating there, he’s staying there.”

  “I’m a hundred steps ahead of you,” I say, happy I had that fifth drink. Because I’m about to forever solidify my reputation as the universe’s most reckless pilot.

  “Chlo, what’s the palace roof like?” Nik says, catching on to my fast-evolving plan.

  “It’s mostly flat,” Chlo says.

  “Good enough,” I say.

  “But they have guards up there. All the time,” Chlo says. “Ever since the supposed attacks. The ones I was exiled because of.”

  “I didn’t know you were part of a rebellion,” I say, distracting myself from the likelihood of all of our imminent deaths. Because even if I can land this big thing on the roof of the palace, we hardly have enough firepower on the raft to defeat a group of armed guards. “Is that how you developed your steely courage?”

  “I’m not part of a rebellion!” Chlo says in an angry whisper. “I never was. I took care of some of the attackers. That’s why I was exiled.”

  “Good thing they didn’t find out about the Chengdry baby you delivered,” I say, thinking about Aeryen and understanding why Chlo and Niya are such good friends. Why Niya was so anxious to talk with Chlo. Why she trusted Chlo to take care of Aeryen. “Or they would’ve executed you—if the Engra justice system is anything like it is on Choryn.”

  I start lowering the raft, careful to stay away from the most illuminated areas of the palace while Nik douses all our own lights, interior and exterior.

  “It’s worse,” Chlo says.

  “Then we’d better hope we don’t get caught,” I say, and I shut my mind off from everything except this landing.

  Niya

  “Aymee,” I say as we break through into Engra’s atmosphere. “I don’t think I can land this thing on the palace roof.”

  “You mean because of the giant army down there?” Aymee’s leaning forward, staring at something I can’t see.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Down there,” Aymee says. “Looks like a battle formation.”

  I can’t see it, but I don’t have the night vision that Aymee does. I flip down the visor but it doesn’t help. I still can’t see what she’s seeing.

  “No,” I say as the fear rises in my belly. “That’s not why, but it’s another mark against trying it. I just think this thing is too big.”

  “Let’s go to the airfield, then,” Aymee says. “Ozker’s there, right?”

  “Yes,” I say. “He’s standing by. I flashed him a while ago.”

  “We can make our way to the palace after we land. Let me try to get Lasson back on the comm.”

  “Good,” I say, heading the transport raft toward the airfield, which is practically my second home. I feel muc
h more comfortable trying out my first-ever landing in a familiar place, a place on the ground and not on top of a building.

  “Nothing,” Aymee says. “I don’t even know if his comm is on. I couldn’t leave a message.”

  “Tighten your restraints,” I say to Aymee. I’m more aware than ever that I’m responsible for not just her life but for her unborn baby’s. And for Lasson’s. And for my own life. And what would Aeryen do if neither Chlo nor I make it back to the Marinax?

  “Chlo,” I say, terrified for my friend. “Where’s transport raft three?” I haven’t seen it once during the flight. Or heard from it.

  “Nik,” Aymee says, putting her hand on her belly.

  “Joston,” I say. I swallow hard, hold my breath, then let it out.

  “Let’s not think about them yet,” Aymee says. “Just land this thing.”

  “Ozker,” I say into the comm, my voice a breath only.

  “Cleared for landing,” Ozker says. His voice is a hiss.

  “Is Joston here?”

  “Just you,” Ozker says.

  I exhale and so does Aymee.

  “Want to give me a couple of tips?” I say to Ozker as I make a wobbly approach.

  “Nah, you’re doing just fine,” he says as I set the transport raft down in what is possibly the least elegant touchdown in the history of the airfield.

  “Easy,” Ozker says. “Stay focused.”

  I remember this part from Ozker’s training manuals. That sometimes a pilot can lose focus after touchdown, thinking it’s over and there’s no more need to pay attention. So I concentrate extra hard.

  “Gotcha,” I say.

  After we’re settled, we sit in the landing dock for a bit, our helmets off as we catch our breath. Then the lid opens and I see Ozker’s smiling face staring down at us.

  “That was something else,” he says. “And here we all thought you and Joston were, uh, doing other things when he was really giving you flying lessons!”

  “What do you mean we all thought?”

  “The control room,” Ozker says, then looks at Aymee, who he helps out of her seat. “Are you planning to have your baby on Engra?”

  “That’s a month away,” she says.