by Carysa Locke
Chapter 3
By the time Annie limped into the shop, her entire leg throbbed with pain. She went in through the back. She didn’t want to meet any clients looking like this, and she didn’t want to run into Salla or Jens until she’d stashed her crystal. She opened the door as quietly as she could, but the old metal screeched.
Luckily, the shop was always noisy. Ship repair was loud work. She waited just inside, the heat in the hallway suffocating. She was already hot from the morning’s labor and walk, but this old building drew in the summer temperatures and held them tight. In the shop itself, they had an ancient air regulator that cooled or heated, depending on the weather, and kept the air mostly clean. But here? The back hallways and storage were always muggy and practically unlivable this time of year.
Annie pulled the scarf from around her neck and mopped her face with it as she limped inside the old lift and directed it to take her down. Thank the Mother the thing still worked. If she had to navigate stairs she thought her leg might give out. The rusty box rattled ominously as it took her down to the lower levels, where she, Salla, and Jens all had rooms, a shared kitchen, and living area.
Idly, she wondered who her new client was, and whether she’d be working here, or out of the spaceport. Some ships were too big to fit in the shop’s workspace, and they already had a sloop and a couple of landslips in, which made adding something bigger problematic.
Finally, the lift came to jarring halt. She shoved open the door, which liked to stick.
“Salla? Jens?” She didn’t think either of Marlon’s other mechanics were down here, but she called out just to be sure. Nothing answered her but the low hum of the air recyclers.
Good.
The last few steps to her room seemed to take forever. When she finally shut the door and collapsed onto her bunk, relief coursed through her. She closed her eyes, but the throbbing in her leg only let her rest for a few seconds before she was shouldering off her pack and reaching under the bunk for the med kit box she stored there.
Working on ships often meant small injuries. She kept her kit well stocked. She contemplated the bloody, dirty bandage she’d tied on just a short time ago, and sighed.
First thing was first. She stood up, and pushed her bunk away from the wall. It took a fair amount of muscle to move the metal frame. It made a muffled sound against the wooden floor.
From there, she knelt down, being careful of her injured leg, and pried up one of the wooden panels. Inside was a bag with her personal stash of hard coin, a handful of choice pieces from the scrapyards, and the only personal items that meant anything dear to her: a bracelet she’d found inside a piece of old ship hull once, and a datapad with everything she’d ever been able to uncover about Talent and the pirates who supposedly wielded it out on the fringes.
Annie only knew bits and pieces about her gift, things she’d been trained to do as a child owned by Laripim, and stuff she’d figured out on her own. Someday, maybe she’d make enough to get off this rock and make her way to the fringes of Commonwealth space. On the other hand, did she trust pirates, even if they were Talented like her? Still, she kept compiling data, just in case she ever decided to hunt for them.
Reaching down into the space beneath her floor, she picked out a couple of her more prized pieces. She’d add them to the two she’d scavenged today and hopefully Marlon would be satisfied with that. Plus, removing them created just enough room for the crystal.
She pulled it out of her pack, and sat for a minute, stroking it with her fingers. It was still beautiful, even out of the sun. She felt like she was looking into the depths of the ocean when she stared into its blue-green matrix. She forced herself to let go of it, placing it inside the hole, and then replacing the floorboards.
Grimacing, she stood up and shoved the bed back into place. Maybe it wasn’t the most secure hiding place, but it would have to do. She didn’t have anywhere else.
It was a relief having the crystal hidden.
She cleaned her leg with a lot of gritting teeth and hissing breaths. It was not a pleasant process. Then she properly dressed it, smearing it with healing salve filled with nanobots that would prevent infection and aid in healing, working the wounds closed. The numbing effect of the nanites went to work by the time she was done wrapping the bandage tight, and she finally felt functional again. Experimentally, she stood and strode around the room.
Not bad.
Even walking, she only felt a distant remnant of the pain she’d been in. Technically, her leg was bad enough she should have gone to the local clinic. The stupid snake had bit pretty deep. But they’d just charge her credits she didn’t have to do basically the same thing. It might scar less with them, but she could live with a few scars.
With her leg taken care of, her hands stung more. She looked at them critically, but the cuts weren’t bad. She cleaned them, smeared more salve on, and slapped them with light, single use bandages. She couldn’t wrap them and limit her mobility if she was going to be working on a ship.
Quickly, Annie cleaned herself up and changed into a fresh set of coveralls. She grabbed the scrap for Marlon as she left, locking her door, not that it would stop anyone determined to get in. She dropped the scrap in the bin marked with her name, and headed into the kitchen.
She didn’t normally need the painkillers Jens took for headaches, but her temples throbbed like someone was beating the inside of her skull with an iron mallet. She grabbed a capsulet and jabbed it into her arm. The headache retreated slightly, but not nearly as much as she’d hoped.
Scrap, the way Jens talked about this stuff, it was supposed to work almost instantly and was like a gift from the Mother herself.
Annie eyed the empty capsulet. Had she gotten the wrong dosage? Well, she couldn’t take more now. She threw it away and headed back up to the shop.
Hopefully the client wouldn’t be too pissed at having to wait. If Marlon was giving her the job and not Jens or Salla, that meant it was difficult in some way. The other two were good mechanics, but Annie had a knack for finding problems that were hard to identify, or working on oddball ships. Sometimes space jockeys cobbled together parts that weren’t meant to go together, and that could lead to some interesting repair issues down the road.
She didn’t see either Salla or Jens as she walked through the cavernous area of the shop, but she could hear them working. It sounded like they were both over by the sloop that had come in earlier in the week. She could barely hear Salla’s music going beneath the usual clanks and engines and the giant fans running.
Annie bypassed that and headed straight to the front office, such as it was. Little more than a room with a bench and a counter with a holo display, at least it allowed them to talk to prospective clients without the cacophony of the shop in the background. Marlon had paid for at least halfway decent soundproofing.
She pushed open the door and glanced automatically at the job board, displayed on the back wall and updated every morning by Salla. Her heart kicked in her chest as soon as she saw the latest line.
A CT43! That was an Ivaldi corvette. She never got to work on Ivaldi ships. They produced arguably the best ships in the galaxy, usually for military contracts, but also for wealthier private buyers. But Laripim was a direct competitor, and Ivaldi ships almost never came here.
It looked like they were stuck. Salla had noted a possible problem with the propulsion engine.
“You must be Andromeda Jones.” The pleasant male voice reminded her she still needed to greet the client. Oops. Marlon would’ve done that first.
“It’s Annie,” she said, turning to correct her mistake.
She stopped dead. Her gaze froze on the silvery blond hair that hung to the man’s shoulders. It couldn’t be. She felt her professional smile slip as shock moved through her. She took in his blue eyes, the familiar angular features and high cheekbones. Her heart started a staccato beat in her chest, and she was sure she felt the blood draining from her head.
“I
’m sorry.” He smiled at her in a friendly way. “Annie. I’ll remember.” When she didn’t respond, he tilted his head. “Is something wrong?”
“N—no.” No no no no no. That’s impossible. It couldn’t possibly be Arcus, a man she’d dreamt about and never met in real life. He didn’t exist. This was just someone who looked like him. One of life’s strange coincidences.
He held out a hand. “I’m Arcus Ward. Niobe — the CT43 — is my ship.”
She lurched back from his hand and nearly tripped over her own feet. Her numbed leg didn’t respond quite as easily as it normally would. She caught herself against the counter and barely kept from falling.
“Are you—sure you’re all right?” He sounded concerned. And why wouldn’t he be?
“Y—your name is Arcus?”
“Arcadius, actually, but no one calls me that.” He laughed, and the familiar sound sent another jolt through her. “Arcus will do, rather like Annie.” He gave her a crooked smile, one she’d seen a thousand times before, and she thought she might actually pass out.
This wasn’t possible, right? It just wasn’t. How could she have—unless it was some new effect of her Talent? Something she hadn’t realized?
Could people dream things that were true?
She couldn’t get her breath. She really was going to pass out.
“I, um, I need to grab my tool trolley. I’ll meet you out front. In a few minutes.” She got the stilted words out, somehow.
“Are you sure—”
“Out front.” She repeated the words as she grasped hold of the door and practically fell backwards through it in her haste to leave the room.
Thankfully, he didn’t follow her, but it took her several gulps of air to calm her racing heart as she leaned against the wall and tried to regain some measure of calm.
“Annie, is that you?” Salla came around the sloop, wiping her hands on a rag. Her gray curls were in disarray and she was wearing the goggles she used to enhance her vision. Salla had Keremin’s Syndrome, an eye condition that prevented her from using nanite enhancements.
“Oh good.” The older woman started across the shop to her, pushing the goggles up onto her head and blinking in the dusty light as her eyes adjusted. “There’s a new client waiting for you, Marlon said you’d take the job.”
“I know,” Annie forced out. She stepped away from the wall on wobbly legs, hoping she looked more normal than she felt. “I’ve already seen him.”
“Right, then. We fixed you up a tool trolley to take to the spaceport.” Salla gestured, and Annie’s heart fell.
She’d really been hoping to drag her feet loading the trolley herself, so she could somehow deal with what was happening before she saw Arcus again.
Salla peered at her. “You all right? You sick?”
“I’m fine. Just—fine.” Annie rushed to the trolley before Salla could ask any more questions.
Why was everything today such a disaster? First the scrapyards, now this. How much could one person take?
“You sure? The client say somethin’ nasty to you?” Salla’s eyes narrowed.
“No. He was fine. I have to go.” Annie grabbed the trolley control pad.
A huge box with various compartments, the trolley was basically a portable tool kit that weighed at least a few hundred pounds. It ran on hover tech and would link up to the control pad, following her like a faithful dog as she moved through the streets.
Annie felt Salla watch her go, but she kept her head down and didn’t look at the other woman. Salla was the closest thing she had to a friend, but that didn’t mean Annie trusted her. Slavery wasn’t legal in the Commonwealth, but it still happened, and there were rewards for turning Talented in.
Annie would never go back. She would die first.
She barely looked at Arcus on the walk to the spaceport. Her head was still reeling with everything that had happened this morning. The world felt like it was moving at lightning speed, and she was scrambling trying to catch up.
The day was already promising to be scorching hot, the sun beating down without mercy. At least the spaceport had decent climate control.
Really Annie? Why was she thinking about something so inane when she had a crystal worth at least a million credits stashed under her bed, and a man she’d thought a figment of her imagination walking beside her? You’ve got bigger problems than the heat.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Arcus asked. His long legs kept pace with her easily. She couldn’t help but glance at him. He was a few years older than her, his frame long and lean with wiry muscle. He wore lightly armored clothing and a blue vest that matched his eyes. Don’t notice his eyes, Annie!
“I like to keep to business,” she responded. Her mouth was dry and the words came out even more cold and remote than she intended.
“Of course, sorry.”
He didn’t speak again, and she was grateful when they reached the spaceport. He led the way to the docking bay Niobe was in, and the tool trolley dutifully followed them. Annie stopped and stared when she got her first real look at the ship. For a moment, everything else fell away.
The ship was beautiful. Clean lines, harkening back to the golden age of space travel. A triangular head that widened out to a shape that looked like wings. The hull gleamed a silvery-blue color. She could see alternating lines of darker blue, forming a pattern across the entire ship. It puzzled her for a moment, and then she realized Niobe must be equipped with cloaking panels. Those were supposed to be illegal to all but military vessels.
Arcus didn’t look military.
She’d seen CT34’s in holopics, of course, but it wasn’t the same. In person, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on. She walked the length of it, her gaze feasting on every detail.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” There was unmistakable pride in Arcus’s voice.
Annie nodded. She couldn’t find her voice.
“Beauty doesn’t get us off this rock,” said another voice, deep and taciturn.
Annie startled and turned in the direction of the speaker. It took all of her will not to stagger back, hand to her heart. Payne. Short black hair, dark eyes, thick lashes, a face so beautiful he didn’t seem real.
She didn’t know why she was so shocked. After Arcus, she should have been expecting it. Outwardly, she hoped her face showed nothing. Inside, she was a wreck. Anxiety flushed her body with heat, she was having trouble remembering to breath, and there was a weird pain in her chest. Could someone die of shock? She felt like maybe she was falling ill, that she’d just experienced one too many shocks in a short period of time, and any second now her body would just give up.
“This the mechanic?” Payne’s voice — that had to be his name, right? — was skeptical and derisive enough to have her spine snapping straight.
“You’ll have to excuse Payne, Annie,” Arcus said. “He can be rude, I’m afraid, but I promise it’s not catching. Just a personal defect he was born with.”
A laugh bubbled up Annie’s throat, escaping before she could stop it. Horrified, she clamped a hand to her mouth. She hadn’t been laughing at Arcus’s joke, but at the absurdity of her life.
Payne scowled, looking even less friendly than he had before. “Just fix the damn ship.” He looked her up and down. “If you can.”
Annie knew she wasn’t anyone’s idea of a ship engineer. She was short, small boned, with delicate features and pale skin that burned a lot more easily than it tanned. She slathered herself with UV lotion every morning before leaving the shop, just to keep from turning a painful shade of red in the sun. Her long blond hair was bleached almost white from all the time she spent in the scrapyards. She kept it braided and pinned to her head so it was out of the way. In her coveralls, she looked more like a kid in a costume than a real junker or mechanic.
But she was both.
She narrowed her eyes at Payne. “Maybe you should start by telling me what’s wrong with it, then.”
Arcus l
aughed. “Well, you can certainly find your voice when you have something to say, Annie.”
“The fuel intake is broken,” Payne said. “Without fuel, we have no propulsion. Without propulsion, we can’t get back to orbit, which means we can’t jump away from this charming hellhole.” He spoke as though explaining to someone particularly stupid.
Annie gestured to the ship. “The fuel intake on the CT34’s is a valve inside nanograph tubing. Which starts encased in a compartment underneath the drive core chamber, and feeds into the middle of the propulsion engine. They build them from nanograph so they won’t ever need repair. At least under normal use.” She let the implication of her words hang in the air.
It was true. Ivaldi had been the shipyard to innovate nanograph. It won them the contract with the Commonwealth Navy. It made them the premiere shipyard in the galaxy. Others came out with it decades later, after the initial patent wore out. Laripim was hoping to accomplish something similar with their new power crystals.
Payne’s eyes never wavered from her. “Well, this one broke.”
She made a derisive noise in her throat. “I’ll have to remove the whole compartment just to get to it.”
“Then do it,” Payne said. His tone made it clear he thought she was complaining just to whine.
Annie rolled her eyes. “It’s not a standard repair. It’s going to take time, and a lot of work. They didn’t design those things for easy access. I’ll have to take apart half the propulsion system to reach it. It’s going to cost you more.”
“Of course it will,” Payne sneered. “It’s always about the credits, isn’t it?”
If she’d had a wrench in her hand, Annie might have brained him with it.
“I don’t know what your problem is this morning, but get over it,” she snapped. “You’re not usually such a dimwit.”
A chuckle behind her had her spinning around. And of course, there was Dante stepping out of the shadows next to the loading ramp. Impeccably dressed in a tailored jacket that accentuated his wide shoulders and tapered waist. His dark hair was longer than the last time she’d seen it, just brushing his jawline.