Held by Luna Voss
30
Melyta
Korva stays on the planet to watch over the mine while the rest of us fly out on the Epeshi ship. For whatever reason, I notice that I’m having some trouble controlling my beacon on the flight back. I put some makeup over it and carry on, not wanting to distract from our mission, especially with Arthur around. We drop him back off at that unpronounceable space station and set a course back to Gerbbbexai IX.
“That seemed to go well,” Jenyta remarks from the pilot’s seat as we pull into hyperspace. “He definitely seemed interested.”
“Hmm,” says Barion, scratching his chin. “I hope you’re right. I was hoping we would be able to make a deal right there. Now we’re back to waiting.”
“He’s just messing us around, trying to get the upper hand,” I say, massaging the tight muscles of his shoulders. “There’s no way he turns us down. You saw his face when we landed at the mine.”
“I know, I know,” my husband sighs. “I’m just tired of waiting. I like action.”
“Soon,” I assure him, wrapping my arms around him from behind and slipping my hands under his shirt to play with the hair on his chest. “Soon, we’re going to be able to live the life we want.”
When we get back to Gerbbbexai IX, though, I can tell something is weird with me health-wise. I keep getting nauseous in the mornings, and my nipples are weirdly sensitive. Usually when I start to feel off, it’s because I have a heat coming up, but that isn’t right. The timing doesn’t work out. I spend the whole drive back to our apartment looking up my symptoms on my communicator, a nervous, sinking feeling in my stomach. This will seems like what I’ve been hoping for. But the timing is all fucked up.
Making an excuse that I desperately need to use the bathroom, I have Barion stop so I can run into a drugstore. I return to the car with my purchase haphazardly stuffed into my pocket.
Jenyta goes right to bed when we get home, exhausted from flying. I scurry into the bathroom and sit down on the toilet seat, my heart pounding, not even fully sure what result I would prefer.
With a shaking hand, I withdraw the little white stick from between my legs and wait.
* * *
Barion
My communicator buzzes. I’m crashed out on my bed, warm, comfortable, and tired from the journey. With a sigh, I put it to my ear.
“Barion.”
It’s Dagor’s voice. “I need to talk to you. Now.”
I wipe my eyes in exhaustion. “How about tomorrow? I just got back from… the Tarsheb system. Trying to hit some enemy ships, you know. I’m really tired.”
Quiet. For a long moment. And then:
“I’ll see you at the restaurant. Fifteen minutes.”
The line goes dead.
Melyta emerges from the bathroom half-dressed, looking slightly pale. “Who was that?”
I grimace. “Dagor. He wants to see us at the restaurant in fifteen minutes.”
She blinks, looking like she really doesn’t have it in her. Then she sighs.
“Okay. I’ll be ready in ten.”
She plods over to the closet and starts picking out a set of clothes. I fall back onto the mattress, exhausted, but also with a funny feeling in my stomach. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way, even being surrounded by Gallo soldiers in the cantina when we met Arthur.
Danger.That’s what this feeling is.
“Stop,” I say to Melyta, holding up my hand. “Go wake up Jenyta.”
She cocks her head in confusion. “What?”
“Just do it. Tell her to throw something on and be ready to leave. No time to explain.”
My mate stares at me, then nods and leaves our bedroom quickly to wake up her friend.
I stand up, glad that I never bothered to take off my boots.
Then I get my gun from the bedside table.
* * *
Melyta
All I’m wearing is baggy lounge pants and a camisole, but I know from the look on Barion’s face that he was serious. I shake Jenyta awake and tell her what he told me.
“Really?” she groans, blinking groggily. “We just got here.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Up. No time to get dressed.”
She crawls out of bed in her pajamas and follows me into the hallway, her eyes still adjusting to the light.
“One suitcase each,” says Barion, stepping out of our bedroom holding his as well as mine. “We wouldn’t even be taking them if we weren’t already packed. To the car. Now.”
“What’s going on?” Jenyta asks him in alarm, reaching into her room for her bag.
“Later,” he hisses, rushing us to the doorway. “Whispers, now. We leave as quietly as we can.”
He leads us out of the apartment and to the car, closing each door with painful slowness so as not to make a sound.
And then a plasma bolt shatters the rear windshield and Jenyta screams.
“Drive!” I yell as Barion guns the accelerator. “It came from our left!”
More plasma fire, and this time it’s from the other side. Barion drives us straight through a chain-link fence and onto the road, our tires squealing as we take the turn.
“I miss… having a fucking hover vehicle,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Fuck this.”
“Who’s shooting at us?” Jenyta yells from the seat behind us, ducking as low as she can.
“Dagor,” Barion grunts. “His men, at least.”
Her eyes go wide. “What? Fucking why? I thought he was on our side!”
“He must have found out that we met with Arthur Gallo,” he answers, glancing behind us as a pair of vehicles gain speed rapidly. “I don’t know how, but he knows.”
As though on cue, Barion’s communicator rings. I glance at the screen and see that it’s Dagor who’s calling.
“Go fuck yourself,” I greet him, engaging the speakerphone.
“Barion,” Dagor hisses, and even distorted and tinny, the pure rage seeps through his voice. “Do you remember what I told you I would do if you ever betrayed me?”
“I believe the lady told you to go fuck yourself,” Barion snarls, and he grabs the communicator from my hand and smashes it against the dashboard, splintering it into pieces.
“I guess you guys aren’t on speaking terms anymore,” quips Jenyta, seeming to master her panic.
“Mel, take the wheel!” Barion barks suddenly, and he reaches out the window and opens fire behind us with a plasma pistol I don’t even remember him stuffing into his belt. A thunderous explosion rings out, and I struggle to keep the car steady as one of the vehicles pursuing us is engulfed in a ball of flames.
“Lucky shot,” my husband grunts, taking the steering wheel again. “I don’t think the other one will go down so easy.”
“Where are you taking us?” Jenyta squeals as we swerve onto the highway and start to accelerate rapidly, weaving in and out of other cars.
“Back to the hangar. We’re taking the Epeshi ship and leaving this planet for good.”
Despite Barion’s attempt to evade the other vehicle, it stays close behind us all the way to our destination. And as we screech to a stop, other cars start to pull up as well, most of them the matte black cruisers I’ve come to associate with the Vostra.
“Go! Out of the car! To the ship!”
Barion has his door open before our tires have even stopped screeching, physically pulling Jenyta and I out of the car and ignoring our suitcases. We sprint toward the ship as headlights stream at us from all directions, the telltale cracks of plasma fire starting to ring out.
Flaming bolts crackle against the pirate vessel’s door as Barion slams it shut behind us and Jenyta sprints into the pilot’s seat.
“Come on,” she mutters, tapping buttons in a frenzy. “Come on… Come on!” The ship sputters to life and she slams her fist on the dashboard in triumph. “Yes! There you go, you big fucking hunk of metal!”
Without a hint of ceremony we lift off, Jenyta piloting us straight up into the atmosphere faster than I’ve ever gone before. The ship shudders and creaks, bursts of plasma slapping into our sides as the Agusto soldiers try to shoot us down.
“Did you learn this in pilot school?” I yell, squeezing the arm rests of my seat.
“Fuck no,” she grunts, her knuckles white on the controls. “This is sheer panic.”
We scream into open space, flames lapping the viewscreens all around us, and then somehow, miraculously, all is quiet.
“We’re not going to be able to go back to Gerbbbexai IX, are we?” Jenyta asks softly, looking somewhat wistfully at the planet behind us in her rear viewscreen.
Barion and I both shake our heads.
“No,” my mate breathes, running his hands over his torso and seeming amazed that he doesn’t have any injuries. “We’re going home.”
I cock my head. “What do you mean?”
He lets out a deep, shaking breath, his face ragged, determined. “It’s do or die now. Jenyta, set a course for Tarsheb 8.
