Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Doren was in the pilot’s seat when Emma carried Ari into the cockpit, his eyes on the swirling lights of hyperspace visible through the viewport. He glanced up as she entered, his expression thoughtful.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just running the final checks before we drop out.” He nodded towards the co-pilot’s seat. “Sit. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
She settled into the seat, Ari secure in her arms. “You seem... tense.”
“Do I?” His tail flicked. “I’m just... thinking.”
“About?”
“This location. Something about it doesn’t feel right.
” He pulled up a display, showing a star system she didn’t recognize.
“Veth-12 is an industrial world, like I said. Mining, refineries, that sort of thing. A busy place, with lots of traffic. But the coordinates Faith identified don’t point to the planet itself. ”
He zoomed in, highlighting a point in the outer reaches of the system. “They point here, to an asteroid in the debris field at the system’s edge.”
She studied the display, trying to make sense of the symbols and numbers. “Is that unusual?”
“It could mean anything. Maybe the Key was moved there for protection. Maybe there’s something hidden that we don’t know about.” His jaw tightened. “Or maybe it’s a trap.”
“You think the Grorn found this location?”
“I think we can’t rule it out.” He turned to face her, his blue eyes serious. “I want you to stay on the ship when we arrive. Keep Ari safe. If anything goes wrong, the Vagabond is programmed with emergency coordinates—a bolt-hole I’ve used before. She’ll take you somewhere safe.”
“And leave you behind?” Emma’s voice came out sharper than she intended. “No.”
“Emma—”
“I said no.” She met his gaze steadily. “We’re in this together. You don’t get to protect me by running off into danger alone.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. It’s exactly what you’re doing.” She shifted Ari to one arm, reaching out to touch his face with her free hand. “I understand the instinct. I do. But you can’t ask me to leave you here, not knowing if you’re alive or dead, not knowing if I’ll ever see you again.”
His expression softened, but the stubborn set of his jaw remained. “If something happens to me, Ari still needs to be protected. She’s the priority.”
“You’re a priority too. To me.” Her throat tightened. “I can’t... I won’t...”
She couldn’t finish the sentence. The words tangled together, weighted down by all the fear and hope and love she didn’t know how to express.
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.
“Okay,” he said softly. “We’ll figure something else out.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
The tension in her chest eased slightly. She knew it wasn’t really a resolution—they’d argue about this again, probably many times—but for now, it was enough.
“Twenty minutes?” she asked.
“Give or take.” He pulled back, his hand lingering on her cheek. “Enough time for one more lesson, if you want.”
“Always.”
He smiled, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. “Alright. Show me what you learned yesterday.”
She reached for the nearest data pad, pulling up her practice exercises. She’d been working on reading basic information like signs and directions, the kind of phrases that would help her navigate without having to ask for help.
“Food market,” she read aloud, sounding out each symbol. “Tailor. Sanitary facility. I can’t remember this symbol.”
“Information,” he supplied.
“Right. Information.” She traced the symbol with her finger, committing it to memory. “Why is written Galactic Standard so different? The translation bug handles speech just fine, but reading is like learning a completely new language.”
“Because it is a completely new language. Written Standard was developed separately from any spoken tongue—it’s a visual system designed to transcend the differences between species.
Some races communicate through clicks and whistles, others through subsonic vibrations, others through electromagnetic pulses.
Written speech can’t be standardized across such diversity.
But symbols...” He tapped the data pad. “Symbols can be understood by anyone with eyes. Or equivalent sensory organs.”
She absorbed this, fascinated despite herself. “So everyone in the galaxy learns to read the same way?”
“More or less, although every race has its own written language as well. But in Standard, the symbols have consistent meanings regardless of how you pronounce them. A Kajdari and a Hothian might say the same word completely differently, but they’d write it identically.”
“That’s actually brilliant.”
“The Precursors developed the original system. The modern version evolved from their texts.” His expression turned wry. “Another gift from our mysterious benefactors. Along with hyperspace technology, artificial gravity, and most of the medical advances we take for granted.”
“And the Vault.”
“And the Vault.” He glanced at the navigation display. “Which brings us back to our current destination. Ten minutes.”
She set aside the data pad, her attention shifting to the viewport. The swirling lights of hyperspace were beginning to change, the patterns becoming more chaotic as they approached the exit point.
“What do we do if there’s nothing there?” she asked. “If the Key is gone, or if there never was one?”
“Then we try the next point on the map. And the next. And the next.” His voice was carefully neutral, but she could hear the undercurrent of determination and something else. Desperation, maybe. The obsession that Athtar had warned about.
“And if they’re all empty?”
He didn’t answer. His silence said enough.
She reached out, taking his hand. “We’ll find something. I know we will.”
“Your optimism is one of my favorite things about you.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“Absolutely not.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve spent too many years expecting the worst. It’s... nice to have someone who expects the best.”
“I don’t always expect the best. I just refuse to give up before I have to.”
“Same thing, in my experience.”
The navigation computer chimed to indicate five minutes to exit, and he released her hand, his attention shifting to the controls. His posture changed, becoming more alert, more focused. The captain taking command.
She watched him work, marveling at the transformation. In the cabin he was playful, tender, vulnerable. Here, in his element, he was something else entirely. Competent and decisive and absolutely certain of every action.
He was born for this, she thought. The adventure, the risk, the thrill of the unknown. This is who he is.
And she was beginning to think that maybe it was who she was becoming too.
“Dropping out of hyperspace in thirty seconds,” he announced. “Hold on to something.”
She braced herself, one arm around Ari, the other gripping the armrest. The lights outside the viewport shifted, swirled, and then—
Reality snapped back into place.
Stars. Millions of them, scattered across the blackness like diamonds on velvet. A distant sun burned orange-red in the far corner of the viewport. And directly ahead...
“That’s the asteroid,” he said.
It was smaller than Emma had expected. A lumpy grey rock tumbling slowly through space, its surface pocked with craters and gouges.
Nothing about it suggested importance or value.
It looked exactly like what it was—a chunk of debris left over from the formation of the solar system, forgotten and insignificant.
“I’m not picking up any signals,” he continued, his eyes on the sensor displays. “No ships in range. No energy signatures from the asteroid itself.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Could be either. Could mean we’re alone. Could mean whatever was here is gone.” His fingers moved across the controls, adjusting their approach. “I’m taking us in closer. See what we can see.”
The Vagabond glided forward, engines humming softly. The asteroid grew larger in the viewport, its surface becoming more detailed. She could see the marks of old mining operations now—bore holes and excavation scars, the remnants of industrial activity long abandoned.
“There.” He pointed to a shadow on the asteroid’s surface. “That looks like a docking bay. Or what’s left of one.”
She squinted at the display. He was right—there was a rectangular opening carved into the rock, just large enough for a small ship to enter. Debris was clustered around the entrance, chunks of metal and rock that suggested the bay had seen better days.
“How old do you think this place is?”
“Hard to say. Mining operations in the outer systems come and go. Could be decades old, could be centuries.” He adjusted their approach vector. “I’m going to dock and take a look around.”
“We’re going to dock and take a look around.”
He shot her a look. “Emma—”
“We already discussed this.” She met his gaze steadily. “Together. Remember?”
His jaw worked, frustration evident in every line of his body. But finally, he nodded.
“Fine. But you stay close, and if I tell you to run, you run. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“I mean it. No arguments, no hesitation. If something goes wrong—”
“I’ll run. I promise.” She squeezed his arm. “Now stop worrying and dock this ship.”
He muttered something under his breath that the translation bug mercifully didn’t catch, then turned his attention back to the controls.
The Vagabond slipped into the abandoned docking bay like a key sliding into a lock. Darkness swallowed them, broken only by the ship’s external lights illuminating dust motes floating in the air.
“Atmosphere?” she asked.
“Surprisingly, yes. Thin, but breathable.” He frowned. “That’s... unexpected.”
“Unexpected good or unexpected bad?”
“Unexpected suspicious.” He powered down the engines, the ship settling onto what remained of the docking platform with a gentle thud. “Mining stations don’t usually maintain their atmosphere after they’re abandoned. Power for life support is expensive. Someone’s been keeping this place running.”
Her stomach tightened. “The Grorn?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He rose from the pilot’s seat, his hand moving automatically to the weapon at his hip. “Only one way to find out.”
He crossed to a panel on the wall, keying in a sequence. A compartment slid open, revealing an array of equipment and he took out a light, plus a small device she didn’t recognize, before turning to her.
“I need you to stay on board with Ari until I find out why there’s an atmosphere.” He held up the device. “This is an emergency beacon. I can contact you if anything happens.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said, but until I know what’s going on, I can’t take her out there and we can’t leave her here alone. You’ll be safe on the ship. The security protocols are active. No one gets in without my authorization.”
She wanted to argue, but the thought of taking Ari into an unknown, potentially dangerous environment was far worse than leaving her in the safety of the ship.
And every maternal instinct in her body rebelled against the idea or leaving her alone, even for a moment.
What if something happened? What if they didn’t come back?
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Let me settle her first.”
She carried Ari back to the nursery, laying her gently in the crib.
The baby stirred but didn’t wake, her silver skin shimmering faintly in the dim light.
Then she rejoined Doren at the airlock, where he was running final checks on his equipment.
He looked up as she approached, his expression softening.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He nodded, then keyed open the airlock.
Cold air rushed in, carrying the smell of dust and metal and something else—something faintly organic that she couldn’t identify. The docking bay beyond was dark, illuminated only by the Vagabond’s exterior lights. Shadows pooled in the corners, black and impenetrable.
“Seal the door behind me,” he ordered, then stepped onto the ramp. She waited until he reached the bottom, then forced herself to close the door and seal it.