Chaos Station 01 - Chaos Station

by Kelly Jensen

  The way Fixer looked at Zander Anatolius...Fuck, it explained a lot. More than a lot. Just about everything. He’d suspected there had been someone before the war. Had wondered if it might be the mysterious Marnie—until she turned out to be a woman, so definitely not Fix’s type. He knew Fixer corresponded with a couple of other guys. Marnie’s husband, Ryan, and an old friend from Basic, Theo. But he’d never made arrangements to meet up with either...and he’d never mentioned Zed.

  Now Elias knew why.

  Squeezing Fixer’s knee, he said, “‘’Course is all plotted. We’re going to head toward Sol. Away from aliens and Agrius.”

  “I haven’t been to Earth since I graduated from the Academy.” Fixer’s mouth tried for a smile. “Qek must be excited.”

  “Oh, she is.”

  The nascent smile failed. “Why haven’t we left yet?”

  “Seeing as Brennan picked up the docking tab, I figured...” Elias blew out a short breath. “I thought we’d wait a bit, see if Zed showed up.”

  “Oh.” Fixer pretended interest in his collection of wallets.

  “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.”

  One shoulder lifted in a shrug.

  “Fix...”

  “I...he...” Fixer breathed out slowly, obviously collecting himself. “Why would you wait? I figured you’d be happy to see the back of him.”

  “Not so much.”

  “And why is that? Did he take his bag of creds?” Apparently realizing he’d delivered a low blow, Fixer winced. “Sorry, man.”

  “Hey, a couple days ago, I would have called you on it.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I could take the easy way out, say he saved my life, so I feel like I owe him, but...” Elias scrubbed his palm across his head. “He needs us, Fix. We’re his crew now and I don’t take that responsibility lightly.”

  Fixer sat a moment, thoughts swirling behind his hazel eyes, then he asked, “Do you think he knows that?”

  “If he doesn’t, he’s a damn fool.”

  “He can be stubborn.”

  “He learn that from you?”

  “I’m not stubborn, I’m just determined.”

  “Oh, is that what you call it?”

  The hint of a genuine smile pulled at Fixer’s mouth. “Yeah, I do.”

  Elias bumped his shoulder and returned the smile.

  Yeah, Felix Ingesson was just about the most determined man in the galaxy, which was why Zander Anatolius needed to get his ass back on board the Chaos and save the idiot from himself.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Fixer to Cargo One. I require your assistance.”

  Felix tapped his bare wrist, scowled and called out to the wall unit. “Be there in a few.”

  Checking the tools he had scattered across the floor of engineering, Felix decided to leave them where they were. He’d nearly finished replacing the auxiliary power coupling and didn’t want to search for the right sized socket wrench again. His set had probably been manufactured a hundred years before, and didn’t come with a fancy case that sorted by size. He preferred them to the newer sonic all-in-one, though. They never needed adjusting.

  Head full of tools from his wish list—a new beam soldering iron would be awesome—Felix hauled his way up the access stair to the main level of the Chaos. The smell of chocolate chip cookies wafted out of the mess. Felix changed course. Nessa had probably made them for him and though a small part of him wanted to ask the crew to stop being nice to him—he hadn’t died, Emma had—only a fool stood in the way of chocolate chip cookies. Besides, they weren’t comforting him over the death of a friend. They were trying to make up for a different loss.

  It had been two days and there had been no sign, no word from Zed. Brennan had stopped by to deliver Emma’s ashes. Felix had accepted the small, smooth container with all due respect, but the dull hurt inside had been more for Zed than Emma. Selfish, awful and true. He missed Emma, but in a way he didn’t quite understand. He’d left the Academy so far behind. His youth, his friends. It was as though she belonged to another life. The loss of Zed was sharper and more immediate.

  Brennan hadn’t heard from Zed, either, which pissed Felix off even more. He managed not to lash out at Brennan; his restraint was noted.

  In the galley, Nessa leaned forward on the short counter, elbows framing a wallet display. She seemed absorbed by whatever she was reading, so Felix took advantage of the ass pointed toward him to deliver a quick pinch. Squeaking, Nessa jerked up and turned narrowed eyes in his direction.

  “I’m making cookies!”

  “I just said thanks.”

  “That’s...” She waved him toward the cargo bay. “Qek needs your help.”

  “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

  “You’re smiling.” Nessa quickly pressed her lips together as if the observation might elicit something other than a smile.

  “You’re making cookies.”

  Leaving her to her reading—a romance novel, judging by her level of distraction—Felix slouched through the opposite door and down the corridor to Cargo One. His smile dropped away as he saw why Qek had called for assistance. Piled haphazardly across the wide floor space were dozens of crates, all shapes and sizes. Winding through the stacks, Felix studied the marks and logos on the outside of each, wishing again he had his bracelet. He pulled a temp wallet out of his back pocket and flipped it open. Waving it over the nearest manifest mark, he waited for a list of the contents to roll across the display.

  “Fruit? What do we need with a crate of fruit?” He dropped the wallet into his left hand and poked the display with his right, scrolling through the itemized list. Oranges, apples, bananas, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries—who knew there were so many kinds of berries?—strawberries. Oh, man, he loved strawberries and it had been years since he’d last had one. Fresh fruit was damned expensive.

  “What the hell is a star fruit?”

  “I believe it is a fruit shaped like an elongated star,” Qek said.

  “Well, it’s going to be mush once we get to j-space.”

  “Apparently the crate is specially designed for interstellar transport.”

  Brows raised, Felix studied the inert box. “Huh. Well, we’re going to have to haul its special ass out of here.” Strawberries or no strawberries. “What’s the rest of this crap?”

  The whine of a transport drone caught his attention. Felix looked up to see an automated forklift rumbling up the ramp with another pallet stacked high. He dropped his wallet onto the top of the fruit box and ran toward the entrance, waving his hands. “Stop!”

  The drone kept climbing the ramp until it sensed an obstacle—Felix—and stopped with a querulous burp.

  “Please move aside.”

  “Roll your ass back down the ramp.”

  “Please repeat your request.”

  “God, why are you machines so polite?”

  “I’m sorry. I do not understand your query.”

  “Don’t move.”

  “Acknowledged. For questions regarding this delivery, may I suggest you contact Bamcor Enterprises.”

  Felix tapped his wrist, growled in frustration and turned back up the ramp. “We should just accept all this stuff and run.”

  “The last time we absconded with a delivery not meant for us, we ran afoul of the Agrius cartel.”

  “Thanks for the timely reminder.” Felix narrowed his eyes at the nearest stack of crates, which also bore the Bamcor logo. “Okay, we need to figure this out. Bamcor only make high-end components.” The sort they couldn’t afford, even if Elias had gone nuts and spent the creds Zed had left behind. He drifted close to the stack and waved his wrist uselessly over the manifest mark. “Goddamn it.”

  Qek approached, handheld across her blue palm. “That crate contains leads for the auxiliary power coupling, two sets.”

  “Our auxiliary power coupling...the one I just finished upgrading with refurbished leads I found in the gray market?”


  “Yes.”

  Lord, it was tempting, even though it had taken him three hours to unhook the old leads and thread the new ones into the lattice. Chewing on his lower lip, Felix strode back to the fruit crate to pick up the wallet he’d abandoned. “Do we have a docket for the lot?”

  “We have four so far.”

  “Who are they made out to?”

  “You and the captain.”

  His wallet beeped as Qek forwarded the dockets. Felix opened the documents and studied the holographic representations. “This can’t be right. We can’t afford all this, and Elias would have consulted us before making any orders, anyway. He doesn’t know a nut from a bolt.” Felix paused as the impossible continued to scroll through the air in front of his face. “A Humboldt capacitor?” A half smile quirked his lips. “Don’t we have one of those on our dream manifest?” The list of parts they wished they had, everything they needed to completely upgrade the Chaos.

  “Indeed, we do. In fact, much of this order corresponds directly with our list.”

  Hair rose across the back of Felix’s neck. “There’s no fruit on our list, Qek.” But a certain someone knew how much he liked strawberries.

  “Neither are four pairs of utility pants, thirty by thirty-two.”

  Felix looked down at the tattered rags he was wearing. He’d taped the tear closed, but had admitted, even to himself, that he really needed to replace them. “That’s...my size. Where are they?”

  “Here,” said a voice that was most definitely not Qek’s.

  Heart racing, Felix looked up to find Elias and Zed climbing around the stalled drone. Zed had a loose package tucked under his arm, and Elias had a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

  “You,” Felix said.

  Zed stopped in front of him. He wore a smile too, one nearly as cocky as it should be. Questions tightened the line of his jaw, though, and darkened his steel-blue eyes. “Me.”

  Felix made a fist with his right hand, the movement not unnoticed by Zed.

  “Planning to hit me?”

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t,” Felix said as the possibilities began to add up and emotion clouded his judgment. Once thing was very clear: all the crap clogging the cargo hold had been bought and paid for by Zander Anatolius. The unclear stuff kept Felix’s fingers curling tightly against his palm, short nails digging into flesh. “Why are you here?”

  He fought the urge to close his eyes as Zed opened his mouth to say—

  “You really needed new pants.”

  Zed held out the package and Felix batted it away. The plastic-wrapped bundle skidded across the floor.

  “Fuck you, Zander. Why are you here?”

  Elias stepped to Qek’s side and leaned in close. “This is what we have to look forward to.”

  Felix turned to glare at his captain. “What does that mean? What’s going on?”

  Nessa chose that moment to slip out of a nest of crates. She had a big silly smile on her face.

  “Aww, Ness, you made the cookies for him, didn’t you?” Felix jerked his head back and forth as he studied each happy face. “You all knew he was going to be here today and none of you told me.” He stabbed a finger through the air in Qek’s direction. “You!”

  Qek’s features wrinkled until her eyes nearly disappeared.

  Felix rounded on Zed again, and the big man caught him in a hug. He struggled against the hold, using his readied fist, driving it into Zed’s side. A whoosh of air tickled his ear. Then: “That all you got?”

  “Don’t fucking tempt me, Zed. Let me go.”

  “Nope.”

  “You can’t come in here like General Overlord and give me strawberries and pants and expect me to just be okay with you fucking off.”

  “I know.”

  “Or Bamcor parts.”

  “I know.”

  Felix twisted and turned. “And I just spent all morning replacing the auxiliary power couplings.”

  Zed held him tighter. “I know.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “Okay.”

  Felix stopped struggling. “Why are you being so agreeable and annoying?”

  “Because when you hear what I have to say, you’re either going to knock me down that ramp, or maybe hug me back. I’m saving my energy for that.”

  “I don’t want an apology.”

  “I—”

  Felix hissed. “Don’t.”

  Zed let him go and stepped back. “I contacted Elias yesterday with a proposal.”

  Oh, great. He’d contacted Elias with...”What sort of proposal?”

  “He’s the captain, right? I applied for a job.”

  Elias spoke up. “And I told him I couldn’t accept until I’d spoken to my partner.”

  “Then what’s all this?” Felix gestured the stacked crates.

  “A bonus.” A shadow moved across Zed’s face. “We got the job done,” he added quietly.

  Emma.

  “We didn’t save her.”

  “Maybe we did,” Zed murmured.

  Felix closed his eyes at that, and let his chin dip toward his chest. They could argue the question of Emma’s future for a day or two and not arrive at an answer that worked. Not completely.

  “So what do you think?” Zed asked. “Can I have a job?”

  “You can’t buy your way onto a crew. Not this crew.”

  Zed flinched, but only slightly. “Flick...”

  “Sorry, that was low.”

  “Hey, I brought my tools with me. This is what I can offer this crew.”

  “You’re more than a stack of credits.”

  Zed stared at his boots. Felix poked him in the gut.

  “Zander, tell me you know that. Tell me you know I’d have you on board this ship with an empty wallet.”

  Zed glanced up from his boots, chin tilted, a sideways smile slanted across his mouth. “That mean I get the job?”

  Sighing, Felix looked over at the rest of his crew and noted three big smiles—it had to hurt, smiling that wide for that long—and three pairs of happy eyes. Well, two pairs; Qek’s had disappeared completely. God, I hope she’s never that happy while navigating a debris field.

  “I hate you all,” he said, kicking at the deck.

  “Nah, you love us,” Nessa returned, her smile taking on a smug aspect.

  Felix grumbled and turned back to Zed. “C’mere.” He pulled his best friend into a hug and when Zed’s arms wrapped around his back, he didn’t resist the urge to lean in, bury himself in the hug he’d fantasized about for nine long years. He wanted this. He wanted it more than every part in the cargo hold. More than strawberries, new pants and a working hand. He wanted a chance just to be with Zed, whatever that entailed.

  He wanted Zed.

  Roughly, into Zed’s broad shoulder, he murmured, “Welcome aboard.”

  * * *

  The container with Emma’s ashes wasn’t very big, only about as wide as Zed’s hand splayed out. It was bizarre to think that this small box held all that was left of her. It wasn’t big enough. The thought that Emma—gorgeous, larger-than-life Emma—had been reduced to something so small was...difficult.

  It could have happened at any time during the past decade. Being an AEF soldier wasn’t a job conducive to a long life span, particularly in the middle of a war. Once, after a rough training session, they’d lain in the dark, too wrung out to sleep, and they’d discussed this. What they wanted to happen after they died. Maybe it had been fatigue, maybe it had just been that their defenses had been worn so thin, but Emma had revealed a sentimental side Zed hadn’t known she possessed. Emma wanted her ashes scattered around the Academy on Earth, the first place she’d felt like she belonged. It was a task that would’ve been a tall order to complete in wartime.

  Now, it was as simple as pointing the Chaos in that direction.

  Gathered in a rough semicircle around the cargo bay shelf holding the container, the crew of the Chaos appeared just as uncomfortable as Zed felt. Not because they
didn’t want to pay their respects, but because...they had to pay their respects. Emma had died in the act of saving Elias, their captain, and how did you properly come up with words to convey how much that meant?

  Letting out a shaky breath, Zed surveyed Flick’s fidgets, Nessa’s reddened eyes, Elias’s stoic face and Qek’s lack of wrinkles, and decided he might as well start the informal memorial.

  “Emma was a constant in my life,” he said, his voice low but still easily heard over the soft, steady whine of the engines carrying them through j-space. “From the moment I met her in our first year at the Academy, she was like a sister. She would’ve smacked me if I got all sappy like that in front of her, but she knew that’s what I thought. It was all right, as long as I didn’t actually say it.”

  Flick huffed out a breath of agreement, his head bobbing. The knot in Zed’s chest eased a little with the knowledge that Flick was right there with him in the memories.

  “She had a prickly shell. I’m not sure where she picked it up—her childhood, I assume, but she didn’t talk about her life before the Academy much. Flick, Marnie, Ryan and I were her family, and later, the AEF as a whole. She was the ultimate team player, understanding that analogy about the chain being only as strong as its weakest link.

  “I confessed to her about Flick and me, how we’d gotten together on graduation night. I think her words were, ‘Fucking finally!’” A sad chuckle slipped past his lips and he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose. “She was there, when he—” Zed cleared his throat and studiously did not look at the man he’d thought lost for so long. “She was there for me. She never outright said she was watching out for me or trying to keep me on track, but she was always there, always checking in. During the Project, we kept each other grounded. And when we rescued those civilians, she had my back with the brass.”