One day and a portal jump later, we’re close to Meloran. It’s too easy, and I warn myself not to slip into complacency, but I feel the smallest flame of hope ignite.
To say we fell into the company of the most interesting pilot in the Verse wouldn’t be much of an exaggeration. We’ve spent some of the time swapping harmless stories that won’t out my true identity, but mainly we’ve listened to the life Leef has lived as a Rim-Runner, smuggling things to and from the Outlier Rim.
He’s young and yet, from the sounds of it, he’s seen more of the Verse than some in their eightieth cycle. He’s got contacts in every sector, runs businesses I don’t understand, and apparently has a problem with girls falling madly in love with him wherever he goes. Though I wonder if that last one is overstated.
He is charming with his soft accent, sharp but handsome features, naturally tanned skin, and bright smile that conveys devilish flirtations with every word. But he hides something behind those dark, almond eyes. He masks an elegance that doesn’t fit our Verse, something that makes him seem much older than his eighteen cycles. He passes it off with comments about studying philosophy and seeking good conversation in every port, but you can only get so much from reading books and talking.
At first, I could tell Renner was worried about what Leef might want from us beyond our creds, but now he’s lightened up. Maybe because we’re closer to our destination than we’ve been since we left Hexalia, or maybe he’s truly starting to like the guy, but either way, I’m glad the ice has somewhat thawed.
I don’t like the way Leef flirts with me, but I chalk it up to his personality and perhaps a little show. I’ve been around performers long enough to know an act when I see it. While I believe Leef is very intelligent and observant, he doesn’t want anyone to know how deep that intelligence runs.
Alone now on the bridge, which constitutes the front half of the Andromeda, it’s my turn to take watch. This mostly means alerting Leef if an alarm goes off or if I see something. Dot is here too, but it’s in a charging cycle, which leaves me completely alone at the helm.
I’m about to ask the computer to turn on music—it tends to help me stay awake—when I see something. It’s not in the field of stars in front of us but behind us on the radar screen. A small blip that I think I’ve made up until I see it again, just a little closer.
Taking in a slow breath, I ask, “Computer, analyze ship off the starboard quarter.”
<<ANALYZING>>
I don’t even realize it, but I’m frozen waiting for the answer, fingers clenched on the console’s edge.
<<STAR-CLASS CARGO SHIP WITH WEAPONS CAPABILITIES>>
That doesn’t sound good. Then again, maybe I’m making something out of nothing. “Computer, analyze trajectory.”
<<INTERCEPT COURSE IN TWENTY-THREE MINUTES>>
My stomach knots, and I push to my feet. There isn’t far to go since Leef’s ship is a start-class traveler and only has a tiny living space. The pilot’s section gives way to a narrow hallway with four half-berths, two on each side. They’re little more than bunk space with slide down coverings to keep out sound. Renner is on the top bunk to my right and Leef, the top on my left.
I debate for a second before knocking on both duraplast doors. The sound thuds in the narrow space. The next instant, both doors disappear upward. Leef is wearing his odd pants and loose shirt, open a few buttons, and Renner is—
I blush and look away. He only has on the shorts he wears under his onesuit. Defined muscles make his abs stand out, and his biceps clench as he slides from the berth to the floor, pulling his onesuit out behind him.
“What’s wrong, Le’è?”
I can’t think straight when he calls me that. And it’s not like he’s the first guy I’ve seen without a shirt on.
“Talie?”
“There’s a—a ship.” I sneak a glance at him.
His face is a mask of concern.
Keep it together, Talie. “The computer says it’s on an intercept course. I wasn’t sure what to do. It says it’s a star-class cargo ship with weapons capabilities, but I have no idea what that means.”
Leef hops down, the boots he’s just slipped on thudding to the floor. “Come m’lady, let’s go take a look. Give Lord Cartha here a chance to get dressed, so some of us can focus.” His wink is wicked.
I do sneak one last—very quick—look at Renner as he steps into his onesuit, then follow Leef to the helm. I hope he doesn’t comment on the heat in my cheeks.
Renner has tried hard to keep his distance from me, but my earlier resolution bubbles to the surface. If we’d had even a minute alone to talk—to process what’s happened—maybe I could have admitted to him my weakening resolve. But our focus has been on the mission, where it has to be.
I long for the moments we had on the Midway. Rehearsal, muffins in the galley, performances. Life with Renner was becoming normal despite our very unnormal circumstances. I want to go back to that, and yet I’m certain leaving as I did means I’ll never be able to go back. Things will never be the same.
“You’ve a good eye,” Leef says. “Three more minutes, and the computer’s proximity sensor would have alerted us to the ship’s presence.”
“So you do have protocols on. Why am I out here then?”
He sends me a sideways glance. “Humans catch things computers don’t.”
<<I BEG TO DIFFER, SIR>>
I start and let out a squeak of surprise. I still can’t get used to the computer—Mabel—talking back to Leef without a direct command. It’s the strangest thing. Then again, after meeting Dot on the spaceport, I shouldn’t be surprised. Leef is incredibly good with computers. He’s got a knack for it, like he speaks their language, but I’m fairly certain most of what he’s done is beyond illegal by Xerus standards. Especially with regard to Mabel and her near-sentient ways.
“Ah, that’s a beaut.” Leef’s leaning over the console reading specs of the ship.
“What’s going on?” Renner’s wearing his onesuit now, though his hair is still a complete mess.
“Wake up Dot for me?” Leef directs a thumb over his shoulder.
“Why?”
“Do it,” Leef says in a singsong voice. It’s his way of being “cute” when giving orders, but it just annoys Renner.
His eyes shoot to the ceiling before he moves to the bot.
“Great Verse.” The bot’s head snaps up. “I’m not fully charged.”
“Sorry, Dot.” Leef keeps his focus on the controls. “I need assistance.”
“Whyever didn’t you say so, Master Leef?”
“Just did.” There’s that singsong again.
I smile but work to hide it. Renner and Leef are like polar ends of the same planet. Similar and yet so different. Where Renner is focused and logical with a touch of humor, Leef is whimsical and aloof. Leef thrives on theatrics and mystery where Renner wants the facts, and he wants them yesterday. And yet they’re both effective and intelligent. They just go about things in different ways, and I wish they’d see that more than they see their differences.
My sigh draws Renner’s attention, but I wave him off. I’m tired. I was waiting for the next shift to catch up on sleep, but I’m afraid I won’t get it anytime soon.
“Dot, assess their strategy, and give me some options, love.”
“Yes, Master Leef.” The little bot connects with a port built into the helm’s console, and the lights on its chest begin flashing.
“Now will you give me an update?” Renner asks.
“Just a minute—sir.” Leef mocks. His brow furrows in concentration, and his hands fly over the dash. “This is decidedly not ideal.”
“What?” Renner asks.
I keep my lips pressed tight, even though I want to echo Renner’s question.
Leef looks out the sio-glass in front of us as if he can see a way around the problem. “It looks like the ship is classified wrong—and I’d bet that’s on purpose.”
“Correct, sir.” Dot’s head swivels. “The ship is actually a Galaxy-class destroyer.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, though I don’t know much about ship classes.
“It means the ship is big, it goes fast, and it has things that go boom. Oh, and it’s allied with the galaxy. But it’s the weapons I’m most worried about. As I said, not ideal.”
“What about—?”
“Shhh.” Leef holds up one finger to silence Renner, and while he falls silent, I can tell he’s not happy about it.
“Dot, do you—?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve finished my assessment.”
“And?” Leef hovers over the console, ready to take in the information.
“I suggest heading 789.05.2 at mark 6.”
“Ah, yes.” Leef nods. “Folks, I’d advise you find a seat—and quick. This will require some fancy flying.”
<<WHICH MEANS YOU WILL NEED MY ASSISTANCE, CAPTAIN>>
“Always, Mabel.”
<<HEADING SELECTED. MULTIPLE OBJECTS IN TRAJECTORY PATH. EVASIVE MANEUVERS PROGRAM 8.12.4 ENACTED. PLEASE REMAIN SEATED WITH ALL ARMS, LEGS, AND NON-HUMAN APPENDAGES INSIDE THE SHIP AT ALL TIMES>>
“That’s my girl.” Leef’s smile spreads like a sun over the horizon. “Magnify.”
I snap my buckle in and look back to the screen just in time to gasp.
We’re headed into an asteroid field.