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A sleek vessel waits at the end of the docking bay, clearly of Merati design with gold scrolling, yet with a touch of natural ironwood from the wetlands of Alamancia. Fiona doesn’t rush toward the ship, but she’s still quick on those tiny feet; we don’t break our stride to keep up with her. I observe the others as they take in the sight of their new ship—their new home, until we defeat Lamia—and I see the grimace clearly on Kye’s face.
I don’t know if the human cyborg will be joining us.
A woman is waiting beside the open door to the ship, long auburn hair blowing in the breeze off the wetlands. She wears a long black dress with slits up either leg, a golden chain and pauldrons draped across her shoulders. I’ve never personally met Queen Cressida of Triton, but I can make out her distinct features from here, her lagoon green eyes matching those of Nereus. She doesn’t smile; I don’t believe she’s the type to smile, not with what she’s had to do.
She saves the ugliest look for me. I get thedistinctfeeling that I’m not welcome here. Perhaps they all would be better off if I boarded the Spectre and provided help in my own way.
I have a specialized set of skills that do not require a team to work with.
And I’ve been alone for so very, very long.
“Princess Fiona,” Cressida says, tilting her chin.
Fiona doesn’t bow to her. They’re equals now, as far as the little human is concerned. Sometimes she terrifies me with her boldness. It’s going to get her killed.
But it’s also why I’m so drawn to her.
“Queen Cressida,” Fiona says. “I see you’ve brought us a ship.”
Like it was a given that the queen of Triton would provide a ship for the future queen of Homeworld.
“The Wrath of Triton,” Cressida says. “Your engineer is already here; let me show you aboard and she can give you the tour.”
We follow Cressida up the gangplank to find the Naiad’s engineer, Gliss, waiting onboard, and standing with our only other crew mates, Aramis and Sten. They’ve been gone to Triton this whole time, working with their government to bring more troops to our cause and to specially design this ship.
Gliss is rocking back and forth excitedly on her heels, the tentacles on her head twitching, and she practically lunges at Fiona to fling her arms around the princess’s neck. My hand goes instinctively to my dagger, and I don’t miss Taln and Ryker’s eyes on me.
Eventheystill don’t trust me.
“This ship isamazing!” Gliss squeals as she pulls away, her dark eyes wide. “You won’t be disappointed.”
I watch as Nereus slides his arm around Fiona’s waist, pulling her close and kissing the crown of her head. She leans into his embrace, and then he whispers, “It’s okay if you are; it won’t ever be the Naiad.”
And I realize something that shakes me.
These people had a whole life together. A life that Iactively tried to end. They’ve had to say goodbye to their ship, to their former relationships, and to everything that came along with life on the Naiad.
And I don’t know if I’ll ever be a part of that.
CHAPTER THREE
KYE
The new ship is pretty, sure.
But it isn’t the Naiad.
Which means it isn’t my fucking ship.
I settle into the pilot’s seat, missing the old leather of the Naiad’s captain’s chair. It was worn down in all the right places, cracked and weathered. This ship feels like it doesn’t belong to me–just like mybodyfeels like it doesn’t belong, after a serious tune-up from Merati cybermedics on Alamancia. I’m faster than I was before, lighter, my prosthetics less of a burden…but it doesn’t feel like me.
I’m not myself.
This isn’t my ship.
And I’ve lost the woman I loved, even though she’s right here on this ship.
Things have gotten better between Fiona and I in the weeks since the attack on Alamancia—at least, alittle—but they haven’t mended. And Nereus seems to spend more and more time in my bed while Fiona sits on with whatever alien she’s decided to fuck for the night, be it Ryker, Taln, or the fucking lizardman. I’m starting to think she likes the thrill of it all, especially when I’m still not certain if she’s going to end up with a claw to the throat.
