For the love of the Heavens. “You’re trapping me on this ship, Moss. I promised I’d always return to theDestitute…but if you keep this door locked, I won’twantto come back. Run a scenario to verify that.”
Silence.
Then, the holopanel illuminated, offering her the option to open the cargo bay doors.
“Be careful, Torian,” Moss said grudgingly.
“I will,” Torian replied, and discreetly opened the cargo bay doors enough to slip outside.
The cargo bay doors were angled away from Amelia’s standoff, and Torian didn’t hear shooting, so she assumed it was still in the “let’s talk this out” phase. Hidden by her ship, Torian crept along the side of theDestitute, pulling out the knife. She didn’t use aknife often—really more of a last resort—but she had enough training with it that it felt comfortable in her hand.
Her heart pounded. This was really stupid. But hell if some smuggling asshole was going to break into her ship and realize what, exactly, lay inside. She couldn’t trust Moss to keep quiet when it counted. And any decent smuggler would realize what Moss was worth.
Fuck this guy.
The Luminas infiltrator had his back to her approach, attempting to carve into the hull. The noise dampener around him made a high-pitched screeching that was nearly inaudible until she got close. Shehatedsome of the technology the Luminas cartel used.
Instead of saying hello, giving up her surprise advantage for a peaceful option, Torian lunged.
Of course, she didn’t actually want to kill anyone—and the moment her blade got close to burying into the man’s back, she pulled up at the last second, slicing his arm instead. The blowtorch clattered to the ground, turning off instantly, but her battle was far from over.
“What thefuck,” the man snarled, spinning on her. He was a lot bigger standing up, and she backed up a few paces, giving herself space.
Stupid. Amelia told her toalwaysgo for a debilitating shot.
“You or them, Scrap.”
Well, too late now.
“Get the hell away from my ship,” Torian said, but her voice trembled.
The man plucked a gun from the small of his back, flicking off the safety. It wasn’t a laser weapon, which was a blessing—but Torian would bet money that it wasn’t loaded with jelly bullets. He cast a glance at his bleeding arm and snarled, “You’re dead, girl.”
“Unacceptable,” Moss said from the intercom, and a new screech echoed over the speakers. If Torian thought the sound-dampening device was annoying, this was downright painful. It rang at a frequency that nearly drew her to her knees, and itdefinitely incapacitated the man. Gasping through the pain, she raised her knife to try again—
And Amelia rounded the corner and fired a single shot into the man’s kneecap. Within a breath, she’d kicked the wound, driving the man to the ground, and tossed his gun to Torian. Torian fumbled, catching it in a move that impressed even her. Amelia pressed her gun to the man’s head, even as the earsplitting noise cut off abruptly.
In the ringing silence, Amelia snapped, “I told you towait in your ship.”
“I—he was—”
Amelia seemed to realize that Torian was flustered, but there was no way that conversation was over. Still, she pivoted, kicking the blowtorch out of the man’s reach, even as he sobbed in pain under her gun. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
“Fuckin’ course I am,” the man whimpered.
“Notyou.” Amelia glanced at Torian, her gaze softening. “Tor. You hurt?”
Torian shoved the knife back into her boot. “No. No, I’m fine.” She stepped past Amelia, her whole body trembling, to examine the damage to theDestitute’s hull. It was scuff marks at best—the nylarians clearly used an ultra-strong alloy for their starships, and the man hadn’t had time to do any damage.
“Captain,” Opula said, rounding the corner. She had a cut along her cheek, but otherwise appeared fine. Her eyes locked on Torian briefly, and then she moved on. “Situation under control. Do you know what that sound was?”
“It was my ship,” Torian said, before Moss could make itself known. “Security feature.”
Opula seemed unimpressed, casting a scathing look at theDestitute. “Hmm. Captain, what are your orders?”
“Secure the hangar. Call the authorities and tell them we were attacked.”
Opula quirked an eyebrow. “The authorities?”
