“This is true. It’s higher tech than I anticipated.” McCall waved toward the forcefield, though the gesture faltered when she noticed the near-derelict ships. “Parts of it.”
“We use everything we can. Uhm, do you want to talk inside?” There was a reason Dash had intended to head into her cargo hold. He glanced toward all the pilots and mechanics hard at work throughout the bay. Despite that hard work, they all seemed to have an eye toward this ship and this conversation.
“Sure.” McCall looked at his face—his jaw, to be precise. “This is the first time I’ve seen you with your face shaved.”
Dash touched his chin. There had been an inspection that morning, so he’d done his best to look sharp. “Do you like it?”
“Immensely. When we kissed before, it was like lip-wrestling with a hedgehog.”
“I didn’t realize that would bother you. I thought my tongue just had to be more appealing than tripe.”
“I’m a demanding woman.” McCall stepped aside and smiled as he entered the cargo bay.
Dash reached for the hatch controls, thinking to shut it so they could have privacy, but hesitated with his hand in the air.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“If I close it, it may fuel speculation.”
Her brow wrinkled.
“Co-commander Akerele thought you may have come for a quickie.”
The wrinkle to her brow did not smooth. “A quickie? Like sex?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess if you rubbed my scalp the whole time, I would consider it.”
That wasn’t the answer Dash had expected, and he almost fell over. He cleared his throat and rested his hand on the hull, struggling to reclaim a degree of suaveness. “The whole time? You don’t think there might be other uses for my hands that you would enjoy?”
“I don’t know. Would you need both hands for those other uses?” She glanced toward people outside looking in and closed the hatch.
“Er.” He tried to picture the logistics in his mind. “Possibly… not. I’m relatively agile for someone approaching forty.”
She snorted. “Such an old man.”
He realized he didn’t know her age, though he’d guessed her around forty based on how many years she’d been in the business. He tended to think of her as younger than he was, both because she looked it with her simple clothing, lack of makeup, and hair always back in a ponytail, and because she seemed less experienced at a lot of things. But then, she’d certainly had time to read far more books than he had.
“What did bring you here?” Dash asked, hope stirring in his chest.
She took a long slow breath before answering, and he almost expected her to say she didn’t know, that she had been ambling past the Kir Asteroid Belt and randomly decided to stop by. He hadn’t yet poked into her thoughts and resisted the urge to do so now, wanting to hear the answer from her lips.
“I heard the Alliance was recruiting.”
He swallowed. Hard. “It is.”
“Good. It was a long flight out here. It would be a shame to be turned away because they had fulfilled their recruitment quotas for the month.”
Dash couldn’t find words, so he stepped forward and hugged her. Maybe he should have asked before wrapping his arms around her, but his tongue wasn’t working right. Maybe the lump in his throat had something to do with it.
McCall smiled and hugged him back. The sense of contentment that emanated from her warmed his heart.
“You changed your mind?” he whispered after a time, his face pressed to her hair. It smelled a lot better than it had on that law-enforcement ship with the limited wash facilities, and thoughts of quickies—or maybe longies—stampeded into his mind. “Because of me?”
“Actually, it was a lot of things but especially something Rose said.”
Dash lowered his arms. “It… wasn’t because of me?”
“Well, you were one of the things. I’ve missed you. I think I may be falling in love with you.” She tilted her head, as if that was a puzzling notion.
“I’ve had similar feelings,” he whispered, tears pricking at his eyes. “You’re the only person…” He was going to say who fully accepted his secret talents, but he simply reiterated, “You’re the only person.”
“I’m glad.”
They hugged again, and he whispered, “What was the thing Rose said to you? And for the record, you’ll have to call her Advisor Akerele now.”
“A chain of command, eh? That’ll take some getting used to.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “As to what she said, she reminded me that if I didn’t help the Alliance now, voluntarily, there might not be anyone to help me should I ever need it. I’ve been thinking about how easily everything was taken away from me, how I could have ended up in that prison forever—or until the gruel killed me from the inside out. I like to think I’m independent and nobody can tell me what to do, but right now, we live in a universe where freedom is an illusion, something the government can take away with a snap of their fingers.” Her voice grew soft as she added, “I’m scared to join the fight, but I’m also scared not to.”
“I understand.” Dash pressed his lips against the side of her head and pulled her tightly to him, afraid she would disappear if he didn’t hold on. “I can’t promise you it’ll all work out, but I can promise I’ll always have your back.”
“I know you will. Thank you.”
They stood quietly, arms wrapped around each other, for several minutes before a clunk came from elsewhere in the ship, and McCall lifted her head.
“I hope nobody will mind that I brought my entourage with me.” Her lips quirked into a smile.
“Junkyard and Scipio?”
“Among others.” McCall turned toward the corridor at the other end of the cargo hold. “Everyone, we’re home.”
Scipio walked out wearing an impeccable dark-green suit with a yellow shirt and silver cuff links. A green hat went with the suit, and he walked with an ebony cane with a silver handle and tip that matched the cuff links. He appeared regal, stately, and none the worse for the wear after his adventures. His regal walk was somewhat disturbed when Junkyard bounded past, bumping his hip and cane as he charged toward McCall. Scipio issued an exasperated noise that sounded amazingly human.
As Junkyard rushed up to McCall and stuck his nose out to sniff Dash, several more androids walked into the cargo hold. A dozen to be precise. They weren’t tattooed, but they all wore different colored trousers and jackets. Some of them still had gouges in their fake skin from their run-in with the cyborgs, but they had all their limbs attached and appeared to be fully functional.
“You kept them?” Dash gaped, too stunned to react at first when Junkyard shoved a nose into his hand.
“I kept them,” McCall agreed. “I named them, you see, and once you name something, it’s hard to return it.”
“But it was so much money. What are you going to— You’re not really going to start a mercenary army, are you?”
“No, I’m joining the Alliance army. Didn’t we already discuss that? Look, I don’t have quickies with slow men.”
“I—what?”
Had she just suggested she would be open to more than kissing? Wait, only if he wasn’t slow. He straightened and attempted to look intelligent. And swift. Very swift.
“Also, Junkyard wants you to pet him.”
“Oh.” Noticing the cool nose prodding his hand, Dash patted the dog. His head was easy to reach. Dash had forgotten how large Junkyard was, probably because he’d spent the whole time in McCall’s cabin before. “He’s not trying to eat me. That’s encouraging. Especially since I didn’t know where to get steaks on short notice.”
“No, he generally doesn’t eat people. Only cyborgs rub him the wrong way. I’d be curious to find out why someday.” Her brows lifted. “Can you communicate telepathically with dogs?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never tried. There are some Starseers who specialize in an
imal husbandry, but my mother didn’t allow us to have pets when I was growing up, so I never got to find out if I had a knack with them. Uhm, your dog’s teeth are around my wrist. Should I be concerned?”
“It means he likes you. He almost never breaks the skin.”
“Almost never? Encouraging.”
“You can distract him by giving him food,” McCall said.
“Something tastier than my wrist?”
“Precisely.” She poked the dog in the ribs. “Give it a rest, Junk.”
Junkyard released Dash’s wrist, and he resisted the urge to check it for permanent indentions. Tough manly men who had survived being brutalized by robot predators and cyborgs in the same month weren’t supposed to complain about playful dogs.
Junkyard ran to the hatch, sniffed around the seam, then ran back and rolled onto his back with all four legs in the air. McCall crouched and rubbed his belly.
“He wants to go out and play,” she said. “Do you think your people would be amenable to a canine helper?”
“Are you sure you can’t communicate telepathically with dogs?”
“They’re simpler to understand than humans.” McCall stood up, and Junkyard ran to the hatch again, looking back and wagging his tail hopefully.
Even Dash could read those signs. “Why don’t we go see Advisor Akerele? Do I understand correctly that you’re offering the services of your androids as well as yourself?”
“Yes.”
Dash lowered his voice. “Can you afford to lose them?”
“For good or ill, I paid upfront. They’re fully mine.”
“You did even better at your business than I realized. Are you sure…” Dash swallowed, hesitant to ask a question that could possibly result in her regaining her sanity and leaving. “Are you sure you want to join the Alliance and leave all that behind? I suppose you could technically still work for your clients, but you’d have to screen people carefully and arrange to be paid in physical currency. The empire will freeze your bank account as soon as they realize you’ve turned your back on them.” Dash had experienced that himself. In his case, the amount of currency in his account wouldn’t have purchased a box of fancy donuts, so it hadn’t been a great loss, but with McCall…
“I know. I’ve made up my mind. I have come here prepared to do without any of my usual comforts.”
Maybe not entirely, since he could see crates of Tammy Jammy bars secured along a bulkhead.
Dash smiled. “No comforts whatsoever? I’m positive I offered you the warm bastion of my arms at some point.”
“Bastion?”
“Yes,” he said, “it’s a defensive structure on a fortress or stronghold. Were parts of castles not covered in any of your books?”
She poked him in the chest. “I know what the word means; I was questioning whether your arms qualify.”
“They most certainly do. Do you want me to take my shirt off so you can observe their rock-like hardness?”
“Not… in front of the androids.”
“Later?” Dash wriggled his eyebrows.
“Maybe.”
Junkyard flopped down in front of the still-closed hatch and sighed dramatically.
“Are we boring him?” Dash asked.
“He’s not impressed by your flirting.”
“I had no idea your dog was so critical.”
“We should probably go speak with your commanders before the androids do the same thing.”
“That might be entertaining to see, but all right.” Dash headed for the hatch, hoping Junkyard didn’t expect to find grass or trees in the asteroid base.
McCall walked beside him, bumping her shoulder against his and smiling at him. She didn’t say anything, but he could sense that she truly had missed him and enjoyed being with him again. He returned the smile and slid an arm around her waist.
“That’s nice,” she said.
“Bastion-like.”
“Were you this delusional before?”
“Yes. You didn’t notice it because you were preoccupied with getting your ship back.” Dash stopped at the hatch and reached toward the controls to open it.
But she turned toward him, touching her hand to his chest and smiling up at him again.
“Can I kiss you before we deal with the rest of the base?” he murmured.
“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”
He pulled her fully into the bastion of his arms and made sure he didn’t disappoint her.
THE END
Afterword
Thank you for picking up Fractured Stars. I hope you had fun with the adventure.
I intended this to be a single stand-alone novel, but I am a little intrigued by what McCall and Dash might do next. If you enjoyed the story and want to see a follow-up novel, you can help out by leaving a review for Fractured Stars or mentioning it to a friend who might like it. Sometimes, I just write what I’m inspired to write, but how well a book does and reactions from my readers mean a lot too.
If you would like to sign up for my newsletter, you can snag some bonus short stories. I’ve got “Bearadise Lodge,” a McCall-and-Junkyard vacation that doesn’t go quite according to plan, in there now, along with a whole bunch of extra goodies from my Fallen Empire series. (If you haven’t read that, you can download Star Nomad for free from any store.) I’m also working on a short novella that tells the story of how McCall first found Junkyard. I’ll be posting that on my blog (at http://www.lindsayburoker.com), but I’ll also send an ebook version out to subscribers this fall.
Here’s that newsletter signup: http://lindsayburoker.com/book-news/fallenempire/
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