Starflight (Starflight, #1)(73)
“Report to the bridge anyway,” the captain said. “We need to narrow down your destination so I’m not flying all over hell’s half acre once we reach that nameless planet of yours.”
For the first time that night, Doran’s grin faltered. It seemed that the closer they traveled to the fringe, the less he wanted to talk about his father’s errand. Solara couldn’t blame him. His whole future depended on finding a substance he’d never seen on a planet he’d never visited…and maybe thwarting a government conspiracy to boot. She was secondhand nervous just thinking about it.
“I still don’t know what I’m looking for,” he admitted. “But since there’s no real settlement there, a quick scan for electronics should pinpoint—”
The galley lights flickered and died, followed by an abrupt silence that told Solara the auxiliary engines had shut down. Before she could blink, her plate clattered and she bounced one time in her seat. It felt as if the Banshee had hit a speed bump. The disturbance lasted only a second, but no lights returned other than the emergency strips glowing along the floor.
The captain scooped Acorn out of his pocket and handed her to Cassia. “Cage her,” he said. “But first wrap her in one of my shirts so she has my scent.”
Cassia recoiled, stretching out both arms like she was holding a live grenade. “Gross, she licked me. Now I’m covered in her germs.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” the captain scolded.
“She doesn’t speak English.”
“But she can sense your feelings,” he hissed. “Whether you like it or not, that creature is bonded to us. We’re the only—”
“Family she’s got,” Cassia finished on a sigh. “I know, I know.”
After she strode away, the captain gathered his crutch and asked Solara to inspect the engine room while he returned to the bridge to check the equipment readings. Doran volunteered to go with her, and together they followed the dim arrows down the stairs. His fingers kept curling around her waist, and she shot him a questioning look in the darkness.
“In case we hit more turbulence,” he explained.
“You think you’ll catch me?”
“Maybe. Or at least break your fall.”
She removed his hand, holding on a few beats longer than necessary because her mind and body weren’t on speaking terms. The truth was she craved his touch—so much that she sought it in her sleep. And that scared her. Because one day soon, she would be alone on Vega while he warmed someone else’s bed.
“I don’t want you to break my fall,” she said, and continued ahead of him.
Just as she reached the auxiliary engine room door, the captain’s voice crackled over the com system in a broken command. “Don’t…inspection…geomagnetic storm…electrical systems…have to…planet-side until it passes.”
The message was clear enough. They returned upstairs to strap in for a bumpy landing, then reconvened in the galley after touchdown.
“Where are we?” Kane asked, wiping spilled beans off the table.
Cassia took the rag from him and resumed cleaning the mess, her prayer necklace bobbing with each movement. “Is it breathable outside? Or will we need the suits?”
“No suits,” Captain Rossi said. “We’re on New Haven.”
Solara felt her brows jump. “But that means we’re—”
“In the outer realm,” he finished. “And no, the Enforcers can’t touch us here. But don’t get too excited. There’s a reason they don’t patrol these colonies.”
Solara didn’t argue, but that reason depended on who you asked. Politicians claimed the fringe was a drain on public resources, that the outer settlements didn’t generate enough revenue to merit the protection of the police force. Others implied that the colonists had devolved into animals, and it wasn’t safe to patrol there. But according to stories she’d heard, the real reason the Enforcers stayed away was because the fringe settlers refused to be controlled.
She liked that last reason the best, so that was what she chose to believe.
“I picked up a distress call from the northern settlement,” Captain Rossi said. “Figured I’d check it out.” He nodded at Solara. “Why don’t you tag along and get a feel for this new life of yours.”
Something in his tone put her on edge, but she nodded. She wanted to see how a fringe town operated.
“I’m coming, too,” Doran said. He settled a hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shrugged off.
“Suit yourself,” the captain told him. “But the shuttle’s a two-seater, so you’ll have to volunteer your lap.” The captain hobbled toward his chamber and called over one shoulder, “If you’ve got any weapons on board, bring ’em—the bigger, the better.”
Doran cut his eyes at her. “That doesn’t bode well.”
She agreed but didn’t say so. Instead, she retrieved her handheld stunner and told herself the captain was overreacting.
An hour later, she found out he wasn’t.
“My god,” Doran breathed, peering out the shuttle window at the decimated landscape below. His arms tightened around her waist, either as a protective gesture or from the shock; she couldn’t tell which. “What happened here?”