Starflight (Starflight, #1)(14)

“Can I change the circumstances of my death?” Kane asked.

“Of course not.”

“Then the date,” Kane quickly decided. “What’s the point of knowing the cause if I can’t change anything? That’s a weak question.”

Solara agreed with him, but she wasn’t about to say so and risk Cassia’s wrath. When it came to venom, the scorpions in Texas had nothing on this girl.

“Some people might want to know,” Cassia argued. “So they’re not always worrying about it.”

“Who wastes their time worrying about how they’re going to croak?” Kane shoveled a heaping spoonful of beans into his mouth and spoke with one cheek full. “Weak.”

Cassia landed an elbow in his side. “Let’s hear you do better.”

“Fine,” he told her, but Renny cut him off with a lifted hand.

“It’s my turn,” Renny said. “And I’ve got a good one.” After a dramatic pause, he smiled at everyone and asked, “Would you rather find the love of your life, or ten million credits?”

At once, everyone echoed, “Credits,” not needing time to think about it.

Renny’s shoulders slumped. “Really?”

“Really,” Doran said. “Credits are actually useful.”

Renny looked at Solara with soft eyes, as if he considered her an ally and she’d disappointed him by not feeling the same way—strange because he didn’t really know her. “Even you?” he asked.

She was about to tell him Especially me when she noticed movement from inside the captain’s left breast pocket. She didn’t expect to see a tiny brown head poke out and blink at her with bulging black eyes.

Solara extended an index finger. “Is that a chipmunk…in your pocket?” It sounded like the opening line to a bad joke.

“This is Acorn,” Renny said, using a fingertip to stroke the animal’s fur. At the contact, the creature ducked its head. “She mostly sticks with the captain.”

“That’s because he’s her mommy,” Kane said with a chuckle, then shut down his laughter when the captain glowered at him.

“Acorn’s a sugar glider,” the captain said. “Renny pinched her from a trader when she was a baby, then slipped her in my pocket without telling me. She’s a marsupial, so…”

“She thought your pocket was her mama’s pouch?” Solara pressed a hand over her heart. The poor little thing was motherless, just like her. “That’s so sad.”

Captain Rossi nodded, not looking pleased. “She bonded to me before I even knew she was in there. Made a mess of my coat.”

“She makes a mess of everything,” Cassia muttered under her breath.

“That’s what the cage is for,” Solara said. “The one in the lounge.”

“Not that she uses it,” added Cassia. “And guess who gets to clean up all her little surprises.”

The captain cut a sideways glance at Cassia and reached a thumb inside his pocket to soothe his pet, as if the words had hurt her feelings. “You know she can’t be caged in there all alone. Acorn’s a colony animal.”

“Very social,” Renny added with a nod. “We looked it up. She can actually die if she doesn’t get enough affection.”

“So until we find her a friend or two,” the captain said, “she has free run of the ship.” He lowered his voice to a rumble and asked, “Anyone have a problem with that?”

Both ship hands faced their bowls and filled their mouths with food. Everyone ate in silence for a while, until Acorn peeked her furry head out again and Renny handed her a bean. She took it between her paws and sniffed it with a tiny pink nose, then began nibbling while making a contented chirping noise.

The captain’s mouth turned down. “I wish you’d stop giving her junk food.”

“It’s not junk,” Renny said in a tone that implied they’d had this argument before. “Beans are healthy.”

“Not as healthy as insects and—”

An alarm interrupted them, and the captain cocked his head toward the sound in perfect synch with the marsupial in his pocket. “Vessel approaching,” he muttered while reaching for his crutch. He pushed to standing with a groan and limped toward the stairs leading to the pilothouse.

“It’s probably nothing,” Renny told them.

But not a minute later, the captain’s voice crackled over the intercom with a single command. “Strap in.”

As the crew scattered, Doran jerked his gaze around the galley. “Strap into what?”

“Follow me,” Solara said while swinging both legs over the bench.

She ran back to their room and pointed at the front wall, where two harnesses were bolted on either side of the door. Kane had shown her what to do in case of turbulence. They were supposed to sit on the floor and strap their backs to the wall.

A sudden force of inertia tossed them both to the floor. Their bodies collided, but Solara barely felt a thing. She rolled off Doran and crawled to the nearest harness. He did the same, and they buckled in.

Solara tightened her straps and drew both knees to her chest.

“I can’t die yet,” Doran whispered. “I barely remember living.”