by J. M. Page
Mara’s insides erupted with fizzing acidic anxiety, her chest tightening with uncertainty. But like Delta said — there was no time to argue.
“I’ll do my best,” she said.
Delta nodded. “I know you will.” She hesitated before she left the room, stopping long enough to give Mara a quick one-armed hug. “See you soon!” she called, running back towards the flight deck.
Mara heaved a big sigh, looking around the room with trepidation. “Yeah, I hope so,” she muttered.
Steam poured from a nearby pipe, so she took care to patch that up first. It was sloppy and not her best work, but there was lots of pressure on her to move on. Once that leak was patched, most of the steam dissipated and she could see a little more clearly.
On the far side of the room, there was a panel that sent icy dread skidding down her spine: Shields 20%.
Keep the shields up, Delta had told her, so that was her first priority.
Mara was lucky that she was a fast learner, teaching herself the ins and outs of the shields on the fly. The basic premise was the same as those she was used to, but they were much more complicated, and spread out over so many sectors.
She focused on bringing back the shields in life support first, followed by weapons. Those seemed most important at the time. She glanced up at the scary panel again: Shields 25%.
Hey, she was doing something right at least. Bolstered by the number raising, Mara whipped herself into a frenzy, darting around the room, patching, repairing, and keeping a watchful eye on the shield panel.
It seemed that the battle waged for hours, but it couldn’t have been more than a handful of minutes. She had the shields all the way back to 47% when the ship lurched, rattled, and the lights dimmed.
With only the emergency auxiliary lights to illuminate her work, Mara kept on, wiping sweat from her brow, trying not to think about how badly they might be damaged.
The lights flickered back to life, bring the shield status up with it: 15%. Fourteen. Thirteen.
Oh, nova, Mara cursed inwardly. She frantically tried to find the problem as the shields dipped into single digits. Five percent. Three.
The Affliction jolted again and everything went completely dark, the whole ship eerily quiet.
Was this how it all ended? Blown out of space by ruthless pirates?
She worried about the other people on board. People she’d started to care about like Delta and Eddi… Even the Captain. Being locked away in this tiny room without communication from the flight deck didn’t help her crippling fear. She could do nothing but soldier on, hoping for the best.
“Please, please, please,” she muttered over and over again, working until her fingers were raw and bloody. She refused to give up. She wouldn’t do it when everyone on the ship hated her, and she certainly wouldn’t do it now that they were counting on her.
After what felt like an eternity in the dark, auxiliary lights flashed on, then the mains after another few minutes. Mara was quick with the shields now, getting them up to 30% in no time.
Static crackled behind her and Mara whirled, surprised to see the dreaded panel now showing something else: Delta.
“Hey, go ahead and divert power from the weapons to shield self-repair and head back to the flight deck. Captain wants to see you.”
Mara frowned, looking around at the chaos surrounding her. She’d managed to do quite a few fast patch jobs, but they needed some serious cleaning up if the pressure was gone.
“What about the pirates?” she asked.
Delta barely contained her satisfied grin. “They’ve surrendered. It’s over.”
The panel switched back to normal and Mara diverted power as instructed, happy to see the shield numbers steadily climbing as she turned to leave.
What did the Captain want to see her for, though? That was the question nagging at the recesses of her brain now. She knew better than to ask Delta and expect an answer. It was easier to just go and find out herself.
She made her way, unhurried, to the flight deck. She was still suspicious of what the Captain would say to her, and for the moment, she was feeling pretty proud. Not quite ready to let someone ruin that for her yet. Especially not that specific someone.
No, for just a moment, Mara wanted to feel pride in her work. To feel like she’d been useful and valuable for the first time since she’d joined this crew. She could deal with not fitting in, but it was much harder to deal with being inadequate — something she’d never been before.
As she entered the flight deck, Torak’s unmistakable voice rang out.
“Take every last item. Leave nothing behind except their useless ship,” he said. “Serves them right.”
“The aid ship got away okay?” Mara asked, not seeing it around.
Torak turned, his expression softening the moment he saw her. He nodded. “They are well on their way to safety.”
“Thanks to you,” she said, feeling oddly appreciative. She knew he didn’t have to help them. He could have ignored the distress call and continued on with life without ever sparing them another thought.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t, and something about that tugged at something deep inside Mara and made her look at him a little differently now.
“Thanks to all of us,” he corrected, looking at her with some combination of warmth and appreciation that made her squirm — both from the unsettling feeling of him looking at anyone like that, and from the way it made her stomach do somersaults. His eyes drifted down to her hands, her fingers bleeding from all the hard work in the shield room. Something crossed through his gaze. His brow furrowed and he reached for a box under his seat, pulling out a first aid kit as he took her hands in his.
As Torak bandaged her raw blistered hands, Mara tried to distract herself from his touch by thinking about everything that had just happened.
“So what happens to the pirates? Do you call the authorities?”
Torak gave her a look that suggested she might be a little slow and shook his head. “No, we take their bounty and leave them to drift in space. Maybe someone comes by and shows them pity. Maybe they don’t.” He shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Mara felt a petulant frown tug at her mouth and the angry words bubbled up before she could stop them. “That’s pretty harsh coming from another criminal outfit.”
The Captain scowled, his face darkening, his brow pushed down, shadowing his arresting eyes. “What this crew does may be on the wrong side of legal, but no one gets hurt. There’s a line that should never be crossed and these pirates don’t acknowledge that it even exists.”
Mara nibbled her bottom lip to hold in her retort. Conscripting an old man into labor hardly seemed harmless. Demanding he pay despite his failing health, forcing her to leave her home and family to pay off a debt. None of that seemed like ‘no one getting hurt’ to Mara, but she didn’t say it out loud. Not when she looked at the burning sulfur in his gaze.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked, flipping the subject before she did more harm. He finished wrapping her hands and she had to admit they felt better already, though when he released her she felt oddly sad about it.
The anger on his face faded a little and he nodded, lips still pulled tight in a grim line. “Yes. You did good today in the shield room. We would’ve been dust without your quick thinking.”
A surge of pride made Mara’s pulse race, her breath catching in her throat. Was he actually complimenting her? Actually admitting she did something right? It was almost too much to handle.
“Glad I could be of use,” she managed to say, sounding cool and unaffected despite the swirling torrent of emotions raging through her.
“Thank you for your services,” he said, emphasizing the last word.
It was enough to make her face burn crimson, remembering her first night on board in his quarters. Was he just being a jerk, reminding her of his crassness? Or was he making her realize she was the jerk for jumping to conclusions?
This was
one puzzle she didn’t care to work out. Either way he was trying to press her buttons and she didn’t like it. Instead of giving him what he wanted, Mara offered a curt nod and a matching thanks, dismissing herself from the flight deck before she said or did something terribly stupid.
Torak may be many things. Maybe even the jerk she first assumed. But at the very least, he did a good thing today. He helped that aid ship and maybe saved an entire planet’s population in doing so. She had to give him credit for that at the very least, even if she didn’t particularly want to give him credit for anything.
Chapter Eight
Torak
He watched her leave the flight deck with a tugging nagging desperation pulling at his gut. He wanted to follow her. To apologize for the stupid way he thanked her. For a moment, they’d almost had a normal conversation. Then he had to go and ruin it.
What was it about her that made him so unsure of himself? That made him want to be… different?
This wasn’t the first time they’d interfered with pirates, but it was certainly the closest they’d come to losing. Torak would be lying if he said the decision was made with no regard to Mara’s opinions of him. He’d be lying, because that was nearly all he thought about.
The way she’d reacted when she first heard the distress signal. The look of resignation as she decided they were going to do nothing. Then the surprise admiration when he answered the call.
He’d be fantasizing about that look for many nights to come. In fact, he was already trying to brainstorm more ways to make it appear. Trying to think of the crazy foolhardy things he could do to make her look at him like that one more time.
What was wrong with him? These weren’t the thoughts of a mercenary captain feared throughout the Queen’s Empire. They weren’t the longings of a Son of Basniel who operated on intimidation and brute force.
They were new, disconcerting, and — damn him for thinking it — a little exciting.
The threat was gone, the aid ship safe, and yet, Torak didn’t feel he could relax. It was still a long way to their next refuel and most of the crew were busy breathing a collective sigh of relief.
But not the Captain.
“What’s on your mind?” Sande asked, once the flight deck was mostly cleared out.
Torak scrubbed his hand over the rough stubble on his jaw, not wanting to admit it out loud.
With the keen observation skills that made the Captain think he was psychic, Sande nodded. “Ah, the new crew member,” he said without question.
“Am I that transparent?” Torak asked, now wondering if the whole ship knew of his preoccupation.
Sande’s silver eyes sparkled with mirth. “No, sir. I happen to know you very well.”
Torak sighed, a mixture of relief and despair. “And I’m sure you think I should let this go?” Sande had said as much before, but Torak felt as if something had shifted lately. Things weren’t the same as they were when he invited her to their table.
Or maybe it was only him that wasn’t quite the same.
“I don’t think my opinions on the matter will have any bearing on your decision,” Sande answered, always diplomatic to a fault.
Torak grunted his frustration. “And your opinion would be?”
Sande’s eyebrows lifted in the barest inclination of amusement. “If she’s proving to be this much of a distraction, it seems ignoring her will do more harm than pursuing her.”
Torak slumped into the Captain’s chair and was immediately assaulted with her feminine scent still lingering there. He remembered bending over her, his heart beating triple-time as he fastened her safety harness. The warm look she gave him as her breath hitched in her throat.
Was it all in his imagination? Surely not.
“It will be no easy task,” he said finally, looking to Sande for further input. “I’ll need your help organizing it.”
“Of course, Captain,” the First Mate said with a polite nod.
“I can help too,” said another voice from across the flight deck. Torak narrowed his gaze at the Chief Engineer, surprised to find her still there.
“If you want, I mean,” Delta said. “I didn’t know you liked her. It’s pretty cute,” she said with a knowing smile that made Torak want to lash out.
He reined it in, reminding himself that feelings weren’t weakness just by virtue of existing. They were only a weakness if he allowed them to be.
“And what do you suggest?” he asked.
Delta shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”
“I—” Torak faltered, suddenly self-conscious about his plans to woo Mara. He cleared his throat, sticking to his guns. “I thought she might enjoy a tour of the ship. I could show her the weapons store and the secret passages through the ducts—”
“Are you going to give her a list of repairs and ask her to polish your trophies, too?” Delta interjected, her snark cutting Torak to the quick.
“Excuse me?” he answered, hot offense burning through his cool exterior.
Delta held up her hands in supplication, taking a few steps toward the men. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I got the impression you wanted to make her like you. Maybe with a date?”
When Torak didn’t correct her, she barreled on.
“Might I suggest making it not seem like work?”
“I’m listening,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It wasn’t as though he’d ever done anything like this. Perhaps he could use a few pointers.
“Right. So, girls like to feel special. She’s not going to want to get all dirty and sweaty — she does that every day already, working for you. You want to make this feel different, right?”
Torak nodded.
“So, very often, a date is a meal, followed by some sort of bonding event. We’re a little limited on what we can do stuck in the ship, but we can at least give her a nice dinner and — if you can behave yourself — decent conversation. I can’t really help you there, but leave the rest to me.”
She seemed so eager to help. Eager enough that it made Torak suspicious.
“Why are you doing all this?” he asked, trying to remember the details of how long she’d been with the crew, how she joined, if she would have any reason to sabotage him.
Delta lifted her narrow shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know. I like you, Captain. I think you’re a fair Captain, a man worth being loyal to, who’s had a bad hand dealt to him. And I like Mara. She’s a little green, but she’s hard-working and quick to learn. If you two end up having some connection, well, I guess I’ll just have the satisfaction of being a part of that.”
Torak sent a glance over his shoulder to Sande for input. “I’m also happy to assist in the arrangements, Captain,” he said.
At least if Sande was involved, that greatly reduced the risk of Delta sabotaging him. Torak nodded. “Okay, but I want to have a hand in it. I’ll select the venue.”
Delta clapped her hands together. “Perfect! But there is one little tiny other thing you need to do…”
“Oh?” Torak asked, wondering now if he’d bit off more than he could handle.
Delta nodded. “You might want to actually invite her… and, you know, be sure she’ll agree to it?”
Torak’s heart dropped, sinking until it felt like a black hole in the pit of his stomach, snuffing out every bit of light in him. Right. How could he have forgotten that part? What would he do if she said no?
Sande clapped him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his melancholic introspection. “We’ll set out on the preparations, you work on getting her to agree to it.”
“Oh, and one more thing?” Delta added, before she walked out the door. “Be sincere.”
And with that, the First Mate and Chief Engineer left the flight deck together, conspiring under their breath as they did.
Torak took a final look around the flight deck to confirm he was really on his own this time, before he let out a huge sigh and dropped his head back.
How hard coul
d it be to ask a girl to dinner? He’d had people doing his bidding for over a decade now. But that was just it, wasn’t it? He knew all about how to order someone to do something. He knew much less about how to ask. He didn’t think ordering Mara to accompany him would win him any favors.
No, he’d have to be careful in how he went about it. Smooth. Suave. Charming.
He wasn’t sure he was capable of any of those things. Charismatic was not a word he’d use to describe himself.
Nonetheless, if he wanted any chance at winning her, he’d have to make the first move. So, with a deep steadying breath to center his mind, Torak reached out to the communications panel and selected Mara’s quarters.