by F. T. Lukens
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “I understand. I’d hate to be in your shoes, choosing between releasing a few prisoners or being blown to bits.” She stepped forward. “I’ll sweeten the deal. Let them go. I won’t tell my little friend here to blast us all back to our fundamental elements, and we promise to stick around until your boss gets here. How does that sound?”
“Stand down,” the leader said, raising a hand. “Holster weapons. Release the technopath and the dreamer.”
None too gently, a pair of soldiers jerked Ren to his feet and cut his bonds. Ren released Liam before the soldiers could touch him; the electronic cuffs fell at his feet. Ren rubbed his wrists and unsteadily walked through the crowd of Corpsmen, who eyed him like the danger he was, until he and Liam were quickly enfolded by Asher, Rowan, and Darby and tucked behind them.
“And the girl?” the corporal asked.
Rowan wrinkled her nose. “She’s of no concern to us.” She raised her finger. “But I’d make sure to keep her bound and sedated.”
She turned away and looped her arm through Liam’s while Asher took Ren’s hand. Darby walked backward, hefting the explosive device in her palm until they turned a corner and were out of sight. Then Darby tossed it into a trash receptacle.
“Fake,” she said with a shrug. “All pretty blinking lights and no substance, if you get my drift.”
Ren half-smiled, nodding slowly. Even with Asher’s hand snugly in his, even with Liam at his side, even with Rowan smirking, and with Millicent behind them, captured, and Ren’s freedom bargained for, he didn’t think it was over. It didn’t feel as though he was finished.
“Why the promise to stick around?” Liam asked. “I’d thought we’d teleport out of here as soon as possible.”
Rowan’s expression became more frigid than Ren would have thought possible. “Because I want to look VanMeerten in the eye when I confront her about going back on our bargain.”
Ren shivered.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked.
Ren raised his hand in front of his eyes. “I’m a little disconnected.” And maybe that was what was wrong. He was still in the drift. His power was bleeding out of him with each step he took, emanating from the soles of his feet into the deck plating and into the walls and circuits and systems, stretching out and up and down, repairing his mistakes, rerouting power, fixing, and searching, and—
Asher nudged Ren’s shoulder and tightened his grip on Ren’s hand. “Hey,” he said softly, “come back to me.”
The softness of the touch and the physical response—the blush rising in his cheeks, the stutter of his heart, the warmth in his belly—brought him back to his corporeal form. Yes, yes, this was real. Asher was real, and Ren slotted into his body, his tethers to the drift snapped, and he centered into himself, alive and whole and human.
He smiled. “I’m right here.”
_
Back on the ship, there were hugs all around, then medical exams by Penelope. Ollie suffered bruises and a strained back from fighting a squad of troops. Darby had a sprained ankle from when she dove into a trash chute to evade capture. Rowan had a painful graze on her leg, and Lucas showed off a black eye from resisting when Millicent’s force broke into the ship. Otherwise, everyone was fine.
Liam pitched onto the couch in the common room and fell asleep. His snores were an ambient sound when the rest of them gathered around the worn table. Ren traced a scratch with the tip of his finger while he absently ran diagnostics on the ship.
“We’ll send Jakob and Sorcha a message and let them know that Vos plans on returning to Erden to reclaim his fife,” Asher said, sipping a cup of water, one hand firmly clasped in Ren’s. “Maybe we can ask Liam to do it in a dream.”
Darby snacked on an apple. “Who are they?”
“Friends of ours.” Ren smiled softly. “They’ll be able to stop him, I’m sure.”
“Good. He sounds like a cog.”
Ren’s lips twitched into a smile. “He is.”
“And VanMeerten? What are we going to do about her?” Lucas asked. He had his goggles on his head; the skin around his eye was puffed and darkening. “Frankly, I want our credits. We survived all this, and I want to spend some time on a resort drift.”
Liam rolled over. “There are resort drifts?” he asked sleepily. “I wanna go.” Then he snored.
“I’m with him,” Darby jerked her finger over her shoulder.
“Does that mean you’re staying with us?” Rowan asked. “Now that we’re free to drop you off at any drift you’d like.”
Darby tilted her head. “Is that an invitation, Captain?”
“Take it as you will.”
Darby drummed her fingers on the table. “I’ll stay. For now. I don’t know what to say. I like this crew, even the marks and the bunnies.”
“Well, add my vote for resort drift,” Ollie said with a nod. “That’s four.”
Rowan smiled. “As badly as I need a spa day, we still have one last meeting, and I am looking forward to rubbing our success in her smug face.”
“VanMeerten?”
Rowan scoffed. “No, my mother’s.”
“Oh,” Darby said around a bite of apple. “You people still confuse me, but I’m good. There are plenty of places I still need to explore on this drift.”
Penelope raised her finger. “No stealing, please.”
Darby sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. No stealing. This time.”
The chatter continued well into the late hours of drift’s time, but as soon as there was a pause, Ren and Asher stole away.
They stumbled into their room, weary with exhaustion. Ren’s hands shook from the adrenaline drop as his body finally was catching up with the day’s events. Asher pushed Ren against the wall and clenched his fingers into Ren’s hips. His breaths hot on Ren’s neck. Ren trembled.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked, voice pitched low.
“I can’t stop shaking.” Ren laughed. “I’m good though. We won. I won and I’m here. What about you?”
Asher huffed, his cheek rasped against Ren’s, and his voice was breathy in Ren’s ear. “All I could think was that we’d be separated again. That you’d break apart in some effort to stop her. Or you’d be taken away or worse and I’d not be able to stop it. I don’t know what we’d have done if Rowan’s ruse hadn’t… if that soldier hadn’t…”
Ren frowned. He patted the back of Asher’s head. “It worked. It worked, and we’re on the ship, and Millicent is captured, and we’re okay.”
“For now. VanMeerten tried to go back on our bargain already. What if she tries again? What if Rowan can’t stop her?” Asher shook in Ren’s arms; his grip on Ren bordered on painful. “The Corps only takes. They take and take with no regard to anyone and—” Asher choked on air.
Asher’s visceral panic pierced Ren to his core, and he clutched Asher closer. He wrapped his arms tight around his shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay, Ash. It’s okay. We’re together and we’re safe. And our family is safe. Breathe with me.”
Several long minutes later, Asher’s ragged breathing evened out, and he sagged into Ren’s embrace.
Ren allowed his head to thunk against the wall.
“I think,” Asher said, his voice breaking the silence, “that some time on a resort drift is a good idea.”
The knot in Ren’s chest slowly eased. “Understatement.” He sighed. “Ash?”
“I’m fine.” Asher sniffled. “Residual adrenaline and, well, unresolved resentment toward the Corps, but I’m good for now.”
Ren raised an eyebrow, but acquiesced. “Later.” He ran his fingers through Asher’s hair. “We’ll talk later and we’ll address it together.”
Asher nodded. “Together.”
“Until then, how about a shower and a nap?”
Asher gave Ren a weary smile, but one that w
as genuine and bright. “Sounds perfect.”
_
True to Rowan’s prediction, General VanMeerten and Councilor Morgan arrived two days later looking harried and uncomfortable. Called into VanMeerten’s office, the entire crew faced her as she stood behind her desk. Asher’s and Rowan’s mother stood at her side.
She eyed them as if eyeing bugs under glass. Her lip was curled into a sneer; her gray was hair pulled back. She seemed to have aged since the last time Ren saw her; wrinkles were deeper around her eyes and mouth, and her scar was etched down the side of her face. Councilor Morgan was her opposite: impeccably put together, blond-gray hair in an elaborate twist, wearing flowing dove-gray robes.
Rowan stood across from her, decked out in drifter gear with a weapon strapped to her side and at her shoulder and her hair in one long glorious braid.
“You reneged.” Rowan crossed her arms. “At least, you tried to. It didn’t go so well for you.”
VanMeerten’s gaze cut sharply to Ren. He waved, a wiggle of his fingers, and the taut line of her mouth turned down.
“Reports were that my soldiers neutralized the threat, not you, and therefore the deal was off.”
“Your reports were wrong. We,” Rowan said, gesturing to the crew, “neutralized her. Your soldiers swooped in once Millicent was passed out on the deck from our efforts.”
“Sadly, there is no video evidence supporting your claims. All of it was disrupted in some way.” She narrowed her eyes at Ren. “I had to go by my trusted soldiers’ reports.”
“They lied,” Asher said.
“Were they lying when they said the drift went into shutdown and the entire populace almost died. That you yourselves almost died.”
“I fixed it,” Ren said. “And as you can see, the drift is still intact and running without a single hitch.”
“See? We’ve performed more than one service here.” Rowan smirked. “Give us what you owe us.”
Councilor Morgan sighed; her shoulders drooped. “Rowan, Asher, we can work something out, I’m sure. We’ll compromise. Credits are doable, beyond that—”
“No.” Rowan’s glare turned icy. “We want an honorable discharge for Asher and we want Ren and Liam’s files expunged with a promise that the Corps will leave them alone. Those are nonnegotiable.”
“And credits,” Darby coughed into her fist. “Don’t forget the credits.”
“You’ll get credits!” VanMeerten’s chest heaved.
Rowan stalked forward and braced her hands on the edge of the large desk, bending until her face was mere inches from VanMeerten’s.
“Now you listen to me, you hag,” she said, tone full of venom. “I know what you did to my brother. I know the things you put him through as one of your soldiers, leaving him behind, and then sentencing him to a dirt existence when he didn’t fit your mold. And then, you killed our friend, murdered him because you didn’t want to deal with the fact that there are people the Corps cannot control. You couldn’t stop Millicent, despite your assertions, and you couldn’t stop Vos, a measly planetary baron. You’re weak. We know it. And it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows it, unless you give us what we want, which isn’t much in comparison to what you’ve done.”
“Are you blackmailing me, Morgan?” She looked at the councilor. “Are you going to allow your daughter to do this?”
The councilor shrugged. “I have no control over Rowan or Asher. I never did.”
“Ren can tell the cluster, you know. One transmission to every drift and every planet. I don’t need to remind you that we’re trusted in several different locales. One word from us and you’ll have trouble all over.”
That was a lie, but there weren’t enough credits in the world for Ren to point it out. Rowan was fury incarnate, barely contained, and a sight to behold as her glare flayed the recipients to the bone.
“Credits,” VanMeerten ground out. “Honorable discharge. The brothers freed. Records deleted. And we’ll stay off the planets unless called.” She pulled away from Rowan and raised a finger. “But don’t test me, understand? You better fly clean and clear from this point forward.”
Rowan smiled. “You won’t need to worry about us, General. But, just in case,” she pointed to Ren.
On cue, Ren’s eyes glowed blue then darkened to purple. “I’ll be watching.”
“We’ll be watching,” Rowan amended, gesturing to the group of them. “As will the friends we’ve made planet-side and on the other drifts. And don’t think for a second we’ll allow the Corps any leeway whatsoever.”
Asher crossed his arms. “None.”
VanMeerten sneered. “I’ll keep that in mind, Captain.”
“See that you do, General.”
VanMeerten leveled her gaze at Ren. “I hope this was worth it. I hope you got what you wanted.”
Ren smiled. He had Asher at his side and Rowan and the crew at his back and his brother returned to him. Warmth and joy suffused him and nudged aside the fear and panic which had resided in his middle since the outset of his adventure.
“I did.”
She nodded. “Have a good life, star host. I hope to never see you again.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Rowan snapped her fingers and turned on her heel, ending the meeting. The rest of them followed. Ren cast one last look over his shoulder, then turned away, squared his shoulders, and put the Corps firmly behind him.
Asher followed suit. “It’s done,” he said, voice pitched low as they crossed the threshold out of the Corps offices. He blew out a breath, and his body relaxed. “It’s done,” he said again.
“It is,” Ren agreed, taking Asher’s hand, lacing their fingers. “And now we have credits, a pardon, and an honorable discharge to celebrate.”
Asher smiled brightly; the worry that had creased his brow eased away. “That we do.”
Ren laughed and, as they passed a viewing alcove, he paused in front of it, allowing the others to walk ahead, leaving him and Asher alone. Ren looked out at the darkness of space and the bright pinpricks of light stretching across the cluster. He pulled Asher close and kissed him, fervent and happy and free. Asher laughed into his mouth, and they kissed again and clung to each other. Filled with joy and relief, they celebrated in the darkened alcove with the stars their only witnesses.
Epilogue
In the last six months, Ren had perfected the intricate dance of moving about on the drift during the rush times. He no longer bumped into anyone or allowed them to bump into him—Darby had laughed loud and long the first time Ren’s credit chip had been stolen, but then spent a day teaching him how to be on the lookout for “people like her.” He knew his way without getting lost or needing to bleed into the systems and find a map to his and Asher’s home. He’d settled in here, in his environment and in his skin, and only had the occasional hiccup.
Ren slid between a couple arguing and ducked into the lit storefront for the best mechanic and tech support on the entire floor, maybe even the entire drift—him. Asher looked up from a vid screen where he argued with Rowan.
“Is that Ren?” Rowan’s voice came over the screen. “Ask him. He’ll settle it.”
“I’m not asking Ren.” Asher pouted. He tapped the toe of his boot and put his hands on his hips. “I’m right.”
“You’re not!” Lucas’s voice sing-songed from off-screen. “Ask him. He’s a duster after all.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow.
Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. Ren furrowed his brow, stepped behind the counter, and nudged into the frame. His arm was flush against Asher’s.
“What do you need to ask?”
Rowan tapped her mouth with her fingertips. “The tomato—fruit or vegetable? We picked a few up when we dropped off the cargo on Erden—Sorcha says hi by the way—and Penelope is on this kick about all of us consuming bette
r nutrients, especially since she and Lucas have settled on this baby idea and…” Rowan trailed off. “You look unimpressed.”
Ren laughed. “Are you serious? This is what you’re arguing about?” He walked away, waving over his shoulder. “Tell Ollie I’ll have those power sources ready for him next time you’re docked.”
“They’re a vegetable,” Rowan said in a fierce aside.
“Fruit,” Asher said, arms crossed. “And you’re a cog. I have to go.”
“Fine. We’ll be docking at your drift in a few days to pick up our next load. We’ll discuss this more then.”
“Fine.” Asher switched off the screen.
Their place was merely a counter where Asher coordinated shipments for the Star Stream and Ren took orders for repairs. Their back room had a place for Ren to tinker and a set of steps to an upper level which housed their shared apartment. Asher kept his Phoenix Corps uniform in the closet, behind everything, and Ren kept a few trinkets—a shell from the beach by the lake and Liam’s comic book—on the table by the bed. It wasn’t much—a place to eat and sleep and the old couch from the ship with the spring that dug into Ren’s back just so, but it was home.
“Hey,” Asher said, following Ren into the back, “how’d it go?”
Ren sat in his chair, picked up a relay that had seen better days, and passed it back and forth between his hands. “Better. I like her, I think. Much more than the last one who didn’t even believe people like me existed. She gave me some calming exercises that I hadn’t tried before, and we talked.”
“About?”
Ren shrugged. “Panic attacks. Nightmares. Millicent.”
After the confrontation on the drift, Millicent disappeared. Liam tried to reach her once in a dream, with Ren present, but he couldn’t find her. They didn’t know what that meant, but guilt plagued Ren over the outcome of her defeat and capture. It was the way Darby had said, if the Corps wanted someone gone, they were gone.
He cleared his throat. “She’d like to meet my support system next time.”
“Yeah?”
Ren nodded. “Yeah.” And if Asher liked her, maybe he’d start seeing someone too, but one step at a time.