And then she’d woken up in Amelia’s medical bay, aching and bruised.
Torian forced herself out of that memory. She’d spent six months reminding herself that it had been stupid to choose Amelia, six months hauling crates in Amelia’s cargo bay while her captain essentially ignored her. She refocused on what mattered.
It wasn’t Amelia.
It couldn’t be.
Torian climbed the stairs to the flight deck, being careful not to spill her ravla again. She asked Moss, “So, if the engine is fixed and you have control, does that mean we’re ready to visit Rhymarra?”
“The auto-nav has already plotted a course.”
Torian took a seat at the flight deck’s controls, peering through the window at Vaesa’s dock. Everything was yet again cast in early-evening light, so she’d slept most of the day. She admired the glimmering kerrac tree, but also searched for signs of Dutch or Zen. “Are we going there alone?”
“Dutch and his draic partner certainly are not invited.”
Torian laughed at the derision in Moss’s voice, feeling a bit relieved. “He was nice.” She hesitated. “They both were. But I understand why you’re angry.”
“I am not angry. He apologized. I did not accept it.” Moss sounded stiff now.
“Any reason why?” Torian put the mug on the counter over the controls, careful not to touch any of Moss’s moss. She reviewed the instructions Moss had originally shared back in the impound lot on Colony 13, still attempting to commit them to memory as she continued her preflight check.
Moss replied to her question. “He did not deserve it.”
“He wasn’t sorry?”
“He… showed signs of remorse, yes.”
Torian hesitated, glancing at the ceiling. “Thenyou’restill not ready. That’s okay, Moss. A century is a long time to sit alone. A single interaction, or even two, won’t fix that.”
“I am not a bipedal fauna, consumed by irrational emotion. I ran scenarios and confirmed probable responses down to ninety-nine point seven percent accuracy.” Moss seemed irate now. “He abandoned me once. There is a strong likelihood he would do it again. I simply prioritized the being who has not, to this point, exhibited unfavorable actions.”
“Fancy words. Have you noticed those come out when you’re trying to sound logical?” Torian smirked, taking a sip of ravla. It was sweet, which countered the bitter notes nicely.
“I am logical.”
“You’re half organic, Moss. Even plants have feelings.” Torian didn’t use to know if that was true, at least not until Moss confirmed it when she boarded. TheDestitute’s potted plants complained about too much light, or too little wind, or poor nutrients in their soil.
That meant they had at least some capacity for emotion.
Moss went silent, as if to prove her point.
Mildly amused, Torian proceeded through the rest of the preflight checks. The engine powered on seamlessly, and she took hold of the yoke, slowly guiding theDestitutefrom the dock. They slid out of the energy barrier and sped up, and Vaesa’s magnificence vanished behind them. The ship thrummed comfortingly, responding to every light press of the yoke.
As with Colony 13, Torian paused a fair distance from Vaesa, turning the ship for one last look. The space station really was magnificent, and a part of her regretted leaving so soon. If Zen and Dutch meant no harm, she’d have liked to explore more.
Through the dome, from this distance, she could see a second starship docked on the opposite end. That must be Zenthielutos’s ship. Draics apparently favored dark metal and sleek curves for their ships, and Torian was shocked at its size. She’d assumed Zen had arrived on a ship like theDestitute, fitting one, maybe two people, butthatlooked bigger than Amelia’s.
Then Dutch wasn’t kidding. If he wanted to take theDestituteby force, he could have just called Zen’s crew for help.Torian didn’t stand a chance against one draic, much less a few dozen.
Torian kept that thought to herself. Dutch hadn’t stopped her, and Torian didn’t plan to be back. TheDestitutewas hers now, and she’d fight to keep it.
Time to leave. This detour had taken long enough. Torian turned the starship back to the nebula at large, tracing the path they’d used to sail inside in the first place. Whatever dangers lurked in the nebula, that flight path had clearly avoided them. Torian didn’t intend to experiment with alternate routes.
As the auto-nav took over flight, Torian leaned back, retrieving her mug. “Moss? I’m sorry I pried. You’re well within your rights to ignore Dutch—but I hope you won’t ignore me, too.”
“I was not ignoring you.”
“You weren’t talking to me, either.”
