Rogue Pursuit: A Space Opera Adventure (Shades of Starlight Book 1), page 24
“I’m detecting readings from the Graveyard,” Tai said. “Another ship came through that wormhole. They’re exchanging fire with the scavengers.”
“Next time you bring me on a trip like this, pick a ship that has weapons.”
“That’s hard to do when you don’t have a badge.”
“Then go faster. Whether it’s your mom or one of the other agents, we have to find the wormhole first.”
“I’m not a miracle worker. This ship is falling apart.”
But he did a few things that increased the speed, and the ominous thumping noise below.
“Message for you.” Tai sounded surprised.
“Go ahead.”
“It’s not secret or anything?”
“Not now that I lost my secure line.”
“At least you didn’t lose a ship.”
“Fair point,” she said. “Play it.”
“Hey, Cap.” Mak’s voice filled the bridge. “Sorry to hear about your misfortune. I realize you’re busy, but we have some items that need approval re: the issue we discussed last time. Need confirmation you want to proceed on the previous course of action before implementing. I’ve also attached the new schedules for your review. If I don’t hear from you with changes, I’ll go ahead. Which means I’ll just go ahead now since I know you won’t read them. Stay out of trouble. Mak out.”
Perrin frowned at the console long after Mak’s voice shut off. Previous course. Bland way of saying, Leave my crew in jail for now and say nothing. I’ll deal with it later. She didn’t want to proceed on that course. But she didn’t have another option.
And Mak knew her too well—no way was she reading five million ship itineraries when they both knew Mak did a better job with them than Perrin ever would. The benefits of patience, attention to detail, and caring.
“Right before you put that spacesuit helmet on,” Tai said, “you had a very specific look on your face.” He pointed at her. “It’s back.”
She should’ve scowled, made a sarcastic reply. But his words found their mark deep inside her.
“Care to describe this look for me?” she said.
“Somewhere between panic, being trapped, and wanting to throw yourself out an airlock without a suit to avoid something.”
That was pretty much it exactly. She’d never made the connection, but there it was.
The business she’d fought so hard for over the last two and a half years, the one she was so determined to make a success. The one that felt like a rope slowly but surely tightening around her neck.
The way she felt just before snapping that helmet in place. The fear of being constrained. The difficulty breathing.
The longing for the colors of a beautiful wormhole or the sunset on a new planet.
The business made her feel trapped.
And Tai had been the one to name it.
A massive sigh escaped her.
“That sounds bad,” he said.
She opened a line to reply to Mak. “No changes. Great job as always. And I guess… go ahead with our previous plan. Thanks, Mak.” Perrin was sure her friend would hear dejection in her voice but couldn’t find the energy to fake anything else.
She didn’t want to deal with schedules and personnel and regulations. She just wanted to fly. The rest was wearing her out.
Tai remained silent for a while, and she thought he might let the subject go, until…
“Have you considered…?” he began. “That is…?”
“Spit it out, SARC.”
“It just seems like perhaps running a business isn’t your true passion.” Hesitancy lent his voice an unfamiliar tone. “Maybe you should consider another career option.”
“It belongs to my family. My mom started it. My dad left me in charge. And lots of people rely on me.” Not just employees, but the people who needed her supplies. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Your dad would want you to be happy. There’s always a choice, Cap.”
“Like yours?”
He blinked. “Your scan picked up a trail.”
“Nice subject change, Captain Evasive.” She turned to the console. “You’re right. It’s definitely a wormhole. Right in the middle of the asteroid belt. And a ship went through it less than two days ago. Can you get us there?”
He cracked his knuckles. “Can I get us there, she asks? I’m hurt that you doubt me after all this time.”
He steered them around asteroids, many larger than their ship, until they reached the wormhole coordinates.
“My turn,” Perrin said. “Here goes nothing.”
They sailed toward a gap in the asteroids, and a wormhole opened up. As soon as she caught sight of the colors, her heart stuttered.
“Uh-oh,” she said.
25
When the expert was nervous, Tai knew something was horribly wrong. A cavern formed in the pit of his stomach.
He stared at the colors. Blinked hard.
“I’m not the pro you are, but… it’s bad when they have this many shades, right?” His voice shook, and for once he didn’t care.
The background was pale yellow, but he clearly spotted prominent swirls of bright green, purple, orange, and blue.
“It would be bad in a decent ship,” Perrin said. “I think in this one, bad is a severe understatement.”
“Someone came through, though. Who else would it have been except Kel? We have to check.”
“Yep. Hope you brought space sickness medicine. This is gonna get bumpy.”
Her fingers flew across the console, diverting power from system to system, shifting shields to keep pace with the ever-changing colors.
The ship rattled worse than a Class 8 planet in a meteor storm.
He waited for her to give him instructions, but her intense gaze remained focused on the console. The determined set to her chin gave the impression she wanted to fight this wormhole one-on-one.
The view screen flashed white. For less than a second, but still.
His already quick breathing grew shallower. “Did you see that?”
Sweat beaded on her temples, but her expression remained composed. “Calm down. Stop distracting me. And divert power to the stabilizers.”
The swirls of color seemed to constrict, like a snake hugging their ship. Then they went back to normal. Then flashed white again.
Tai diverted the power she wanted and sat, helpless. Perrin kept working, her attention riveted on the readouts, hands in constant motion, bottom lip clenched between her teeth.
And he was stuck doing nothing except wondering if this was what the Opal had looked like before his dad never came home.
At least if Tai died or got stranded, he wouldn’t have to decide how to handle Perrin’s smuggling.
The ship groaned like a giant fist squeezed it. The shaking resumed.
They jolted to a dead stop.
Perrin grunted.
“What happened?”
“The core blew.” She blew out a breath through pursed lips. “Do you know how to change one?”
“Is it like a light bulb?”
That made her look up and roll her eyes. “Close enough.” She shoved a hand into her pocket and tossed him a spare. “Here. Actually, take them all.” Two more prism cores sailed his way.
He pocketed them, navigated through the wrecked halls to the engine room, and opened the core drive. Rather than clear like the new ones he carried, the current prism’s center was marred by a dark cloud. He popped it out. The drive spat sparks at him, forcing him to swat embers on his sleeve. Shades, he didn’t know these caught on fire. He shoved the new core into place.
The ship immediately shot forward, sending him tumbling to the deck. He found a compartment to stash the spares in, in case they needed another.
Had his dad experienced this, before the Opal folded? His ship had been inside the wormhole when it started to collapse. They’d had just enough time to escape and send a message. Unfortunately, to get out in time they’d had to travel to the wrong side.
What would’ve happened if they hadn’t made it out? What would happen now? The alternate dimension theory sounded better than the ship breaking up, or them getting stranded inside as the systems failed one by one.
If Tai didn’t make it home, his mom would never know what had happened to him. Would never understand why he’d left or know he’d been trying to help. This whole mission sounded like a stupid idea now. Tai should’ve trusted his mom’s skills, trusted that she believed his innocence and would’ve cleared his name without him going off on his own.
If he died now, she’d be alone, because of his idiotic pride.
If he wanted to prevent that, time to face his fear.
When he returned to the bridge, one glance at the colors made him sweat. Now he knew how Perrin felt wearing the spacesuit.
“Can I turn the screen off?”
“Sure,” she said without raising her gaze.
The situation must’ve been bad if she didn’t mind missing the colors.
The colors swirled furiously, forming a knot of near-black in their path.
He hit a button, and the screen went blank.
Something cracked at the rear of the ship.
He tried to not imagine the many important pieces it might’ve been. He’d already lost one ship to scavs. He hoped he wasn’t about to lose another. The lack of debris in the wormhole was a good sign Kel made it through.
A loud hiss sounded behind him, and a cloud of smoke billowed from a panel at the rear of the bridge.
He gripped the arms of his seat. He should say something to Perrin. If they were going to die, he should apologize for dragging her into this. For needling her about the smuggling.
He should tell her she was beautiful and even though he should care she was a criminal who planned to betray him, he still found her amazing and strong and captivating.
Thankfully, before he acted on those ridiculous notions, the ship stabilized.
He flicked the screen on in time to see the colors vanish and the wormhole close behind them.
He was alive. And they were out of the sun-forsaken wormhole. A weight eased from his chest.
Perrin leaped to her feet, cheered, and pumped her arm. “Take that!”
Her enthusiasm was contagious. He jumped up, too, and hugged her, swinging her around the bridge. Her laugh filled the room with music.
When he set her down, their faces were close. Too close. His hands remained on her waist, fingers brushing an inch of skin where her shirt hitched up.
They both froze.
Her gray eyes locked on his. Full lips parted. Her hair was limp from the helmet, and sweat glistened on her face from her battle with the wormhole, and she was beautiful.
He lowered his head an inch. Two. She didn’t move toward him, but didn’t move away.
Her breath warmed his skin. She rose on her toes, narrowing the distance between them.
Moving slowly so he wouldn’t spook her, he raised a hand toward her face.
A siren rang on the console.
They stumbled apart.
He dove for his seat and pulled up the readings, heart racing.
A planet loomed right in front of them.
He commanded a full stop on the engines, tried to reverse the ship. Metal squealed, the thrusters whined.
“No wonder the wormhole’s unstable,” Perrin said, recovering the power of speech faster than he had. “It’s way too close to a planet. The gravity and the light refraction from the atmosphere probably interfere with it.”
“The planet’s also interfering with our engines.” He diverted every available scrap of power, plunging the bridge into darkness and lightening the artificial gravity.
But the planet still tugged them downward.
Rocks pinged against the hull. Great. The planet had a ring, and of course their approach hit right at the equator.
Tai scanned the planet. Tried to, anyway. He had to divert a tiny bit of power to give the scanners enough juice to search the whole surface. “I’m reading some type of facility, along with two ships and multiple life signs.”
“Do you think this is it? Kel’s destination?”
“I hope so.”
“Will the ship handle atmo entry?”
He checked the systems. “We’re about to find out, whether we want to or not.”
More ring rocks pelted them with a chorus of metallic dings.
Gravity now commanded the vessel, not him. The best he could do was push them toward the life sign readings, a few degrees north of the equator.
The ship trembled and shook as the ring buffeted them. After a few final pings, they sank beneath the ring, approaching the planet.
When they entered the upper atmosphere, a cloud bank engulfed them. Tai continued pushing the thrusters, which meant giving up on the stabilizers. This trip was as bumpy as the wormhole.
They sank far too quickly through puffy clouds.
“I hope one of those ships is Kel’s,” he said. “And that even if he has betrayed us, he still likes me enough to give me a ride. Because once we land, this ship won’t be taking off again.”
The last few wisps evaporated, giving them a view of the planet’s surface.
“Take a look at your new home,” Perrin said with a grim smile.
Tai couldn’t decide if this region was a mountain range with lots of lakes, or a giant lake with lots of really tall islands.
Either way, he had a fifty-fifty chance of landing on solid ground.
The ship wobbled as wind whipped them.
“Good thing we haven’t eaten,” Perrin said. “Otherwise I might lose my lunch.”
Tai gave the engine one final push toward the life readings, but a few hundred feet above ground, the systems gave out.
The ship plunged downward.
He tried everything to regain thruster control, to steer, to do anything. Nothing worked.
“Better buckle up.” He scrambled for his shoulder harness. “We’re going down, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
26
The ship’s downward acceleration pressed Perrin’s spine against the hard seat back. Her heart lodged in her throat. On the view screen, land loomed closer and closer.
Tai’s hands flew over the console, but his efforts did nothing to slow their fall.
She grasped the straps near her shoulders and prayed.
One of the ship’s wings brushed a cliff, tilting the craft sideways.
Water spread below them. The ship wobbled toward it.
This was going to suck.
The ship skimmed the surface of the water, bounced. Her insides bounced with it. Spray splashed across the screen, blocking her view of the mountains in their path. The force threw her against the straps, rattled her head. She clenched the armrests and tried to keep her feet on the floor.
Another bounce, this one with less air. When her head whipped back and forward again, her teeth plunged into her lip. The wet taste of blood filled her mouth.
One more bounce, and then a screech from below. Rocks tearing a hole in the bottom of the ship.
The vessel slowed to a chorus of more shredding metal and jerked to a stop. The straps bit into her shoulders and chest. Sparks exploded from the consoles. Smoke erupted from the ceiling. Every light blinked out.
Water poured down the view screen. The ship had stopped at an angle, and the horizon cut a diagonal line across the screen.
A gurgling sound sent her scrambling to free herself.
Tai did the same. “I think the airlock is underwater.”
“How do we get out?”
“Might be a hatch. Let’s go.”
They raced off the bridge, grasping the wall for support thanks to the steep angle of the deck. The hall was dark without light from the view screen to compensate for the lack of power. She had no supplies to retrieve. The cores were the only valuable items on board, but the engine room was likely flooded, or well on its way.
The ship trembled and shifted, sent her stumbling into Tai. Water gurgled. Tai wrapped an arm around her shoulders until she righted herself and scanned the hall.
“There.” He pointed to a door in the ceiling, a round metal hatch.
The water was now ankle-deep and rising.
Tai climbed the ladder mounted to the wall and tried to turn the round handle. His face reddened with effort, and his jaw clenched, but it wouldn’t move.
“Faster,” she said, even though she knew her words wouldn’t help.
He grunted as he tried again. Metal squealed.
The water reached her calves, soaking her boots.
A shaft of sunlight flooded the hall from above. Tai waved her forward, and she scrambled up the ladder. They emerged onto the ship’s roof. The vessel rested at an angle, its side forming a steep slide straight toward the water as if it teetered on the edge of a shelf. It groaned and creaked, half submerged, one end near shore. But the water worked on claiming the ship for its own.
Perrin followed Tai as he scrambled across the roof of the ship. The vessel shifted, settled, made her stagger. She grasped a dish for balance. The piece snapped off. She righted herself and tossed it into the water.
They leaped from the edge, splashed into chilly water, and swam for the rocky shore. Panting, they stumbled onto dry ground and sat as the ship continued to creak. Within minutes, only the top showed as the vessel sank into the lake. Or the ocean. She still hadn’t decided.
The sound of their breathing filled the air.
“You okay?” Tai asked.
While her heart rate calmed, she took inventory. Her lip had stopped bleeding, but a nice bump had formed on the inside, so her teeth grazed it whenever she swallowed. The straps had made her shoulders and chest sore, meaning she’d have bruises to go with the ones around her waist from the spacesuit adventure and the ones around her wrists from the scavengers’ bonds. Everything else seemed unhurt, though tense and sore.
“I think so. You?”
“Good enough,” he said.
Blood seeped from a cut on his chin. She reached toward it, but pulled her hand away at the last minute.
She stood and scanned their surroundings. Deep blue water spread in front of them, with mountains scattered throughout it. Behind her, a large peak pointed toward the sky, its slopes green and rocky. The longer they remained still, the more birdsong filled the air, as the birds recovered from a massive metal creature crashing from the heavens. In the sky, the ring and one large moon glimmered pale silver in the early morning light.
