Chapter 9 Static in the Void #2
“When the crystal unlocks, it generates a specific energy signature.” His jaw is tight.
“The bio-lock isn’t just security—it’s camouflage.
Once opened, the encryption field collapses and the crystal’s natural resonance becomes detectable.
I did not realize... I unlocked it to show you the data. And in doing so, I created a trail.”
“Fantastic.” I swing back to the controls. “Zip, how long until they’re in weapons range?”
“FOUR MINUTES. ALTHOUGH WEAPONS MAY NOT BE THEIR PRIMARY OBJECTIVE—THE PROBE IS HAILING US. STANDARD MERIDIAN CONSORTIUM DIPLOMATIC FREQUENCY.”
“Oh, they want to chat. How civilized.” I don’t bother hiding the sarcasm.
“REQUESTING IMMEDIATE SURRENDER OF LORD RYNN VALORIAN AND THE AETHEL CRYSTAL. THEY PROMISE SAFE PASSAGE FOR YOU AND YOUR VESSEL IF YOU COMPLY WITHIN TWO MINUTES.”
“They promise.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Right. And after I hand over my passenger, they’ll totally let me fly away with evidence of their illegal pursuit.”
“INDEED,” Zip agrees. “HISTORICAL DATA SUGGESTS A 96% PROBABILITY OF ‘UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENTS’ BEFALLING WITNESSES.”
Rynn is beside me now, one hand braced on my chair. Close enough that I can feel his heat, smell his scent mixing with mine. Close enough that the bond hums between us, a live wire of connection.
“You should comply,” he says quietly.
I twist to stare at him. “Excuse me?”
“They want me and the crystal. You could—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off, and there’s steel in my voice. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. We’ve been through this. I’m not giving you up.”
“Polly—they will destroy you to get to me.”
“Let them try.” I bring engines online, and Pink Slip shudders to life beneath us. “Zip, charge weapons and prep for emergency jump. We’re leaving.”
“INADVISABLE,” Zip says, but he’s already complying. “THE PROBE IS ARMED WITH EMP MISSILES. IF THEY HIT US BEFORE WE CAN JUMP—”
“Then I’ll have to make sure they don’t hit us.” I flash Rynn a grin that’s probably more teeth than reassurance. “Strap in, Lord Chaos. This is going to get interesting.”
He doesn’t move toward the passenger seat. Instead, he slides into the co-pilot’s chair and starts bringing up tactical displays. “If you insist on keeping me alive, I insist on being useful.”
“You know how to run a weapons array?”
“I did not spend thirty years as cargo without learning a few skills.” His smile is sharp. “I may surprise you yet, kethara.”
The Valorian endearment—my heart or my blood or something equally possessive—does something warm and dangerous to my chest. I shove the feeling down and focus on flying.
“Then target their sensor array. I’m going to get us close enough that you can’t miss, and when I break—”
“I fire.” He’s already locked on. “Ready.”
The probe is closing fast. 1,500 kilometers. 1,000. I wait until I can see the individual sensor clusters, then goose the engines hard.
Pink Slip screams forward.
The probe tries to compensate, but it’s designed for stealth, not speed. I come in at an angle that gives Rynn a clear shot and then flip us hard to port. G-forces slam me into my harness. My vision grays at the edges.
“Now!”
Rynn fires.
The energy beam catches the probe’s forward array and shears it clean off in a spray of molten metal and sparking circuits. The probe spins, trying to stabilize, but I’m already past it. Already plotting the jump to hyperspace.
“JUMP COORDINATES LOCKED,” Zip announces. “MERIDIAN FLEET DETECTED AT 50,000 KILOMETERS AND CLOSING. THREE HEAVY CRUISERS. TIME TO INTERCEPT: SIX MINUTES.”
“Fantastic.” My hands are steady on the controls despite the adrenaline singing through my veins. “Everybody loves a deadline. Jumping in three... two...”
We slam into the blue-white tunnel of hyperspace.
The sudden silence of the cockpit is deafening. We’re safe. For now. But the reality of what just happened hangs between us like smoke.
I slump back in the pilot’s seat, exhaling a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“We cannot go to Helios,” Rynn says into the quiet. His voice is flat, devoid of the warmth from this morning.
I turn to look at him. He’s staring at the tactical display, his jaw locked tight enough to grind teeth. I can feel him through the bond—a dark, roiling storm of guilt and cold calculation. He’s pulling away. Putting the armor back on.
“They’ll be waiting,” I agree. “If they tracked the crystal here, they know Helios is the only station with a relay strong enough to handle the data.”
“Then we are out of options.” He unbuckles his harness with sharp, jerky movements. “You need to drop me, Polly.”
“Excuse me?”
“Find a neutral system. Drop me in an escape pod with the crystal. I will lead them away from you.”
“Are you insane?” I snap, unbuckling my own harness to face him. “We just bonded. You just claimed me. And your first instinct is to play the noble martyr and die in space?”
“My first instinct is to keep you alive!” He spins on me, eyes flashing gold. The bond flares hot with his terror—not for himself, but for me. “The crystal is a beacon. As long as it is on this ship, you are a target. I will not let my legacy become your grave.”
“It’s our legacy now, Rynn! That’s how bonds work!”
“It is a death sentence!”
He’s vibrating again, that low, dangerous thrum. But this time, I don’t back down. I reach out and grab his face, forcing him to look at me. I push calm and stubbornness down the bond, fighting his panic with my own resolve.
“Listen to me,” I say, voice steady. “We aren’t splitting up. And we aren’t dying. But you’re right—we can’t outrun them forever. We need a place to stand and fight. Somewhere with shields strong enough to mask that beacon and guns big enough to kill a fleet.”
“Does such a place exist in the Fringe?” he asks, his voice rough. “From what I have seen, your ‘Fringe’ is held together by rust and optimism.”
“One place.” I take a breath. “Zater Reach.”
Rynn stiffens under my hands. “The Warlord’s territory?”
The name Henrok D’Vorr is known even in the Core Worlds. The First Blade. The Butcher of the Nebula. Rumors say he carves his enemies into pieces and decorates his halls with their crystalline bones.
“Polly,” Rynn says, his voice low and dangerous. “You want to bring a corporate war fleet to the doorstep of a Zaterran Warlord? He will vaporize us the moment we drop out of hyperspace just to save himself the headache.”
“No, he won’t. Because he’s family.”
Rynn stares at me. “Family? He is a monster.”
“He’s Suki’s husband,” I counter. “My best friend. The other OOPS courier I told you about? She crashed there three years ago and... well, she kept him.”
“She kept a Warlord?”
“She married him. And now she runs his diplomatic corps.” I grab his hands, my grip fierce.
“Listen to me, Rynn. You think you’re dangerous?
You think Meridian is scary? Henrok D’Vorr has a defensive grid that eats cruisers for breakfast. He has a Quantum Relay that can punch a signal through an ion storm. And he has Suki.”
“And you think they will help us?” He asks, struggling to reconcile the rumors of a bloodthirsty tyrant with the woman I am describing. “We are bringing death to their home.”
“Henrok gets bored with peace,” I say, a wild light entering my eyes. “Trust me. If we bring him a fight, he won’t be mad. He’ll be delighted.”
He looks at me—fierce, certain, and utterly trusting of these people he has never met. I can feel him wavering through the bond.
“They have a Quantum Relay?” he asks.
“Military grade. It can send your data in seconds.”
“And guns?”
“Big ones.”
He looks at the tactical display. The Meridian fleet is six minutes behind us. We have no other options. He has to trust me.
“Do it,” he says. “Call the Warlord’s wife.”
I nod, throat tight. “Zip, plot a course for Zater Reach. Multi-jump route, max evasion. And open a channel.”
“TO WHOM, CAPTAIN?”
“The First Blade’s wife. Let’s hope she’s in a good mood.”
The connection takes a moment—Zater Reach is a long way out, and the signal has to bounce through several relay stations. When Suki’s face finally appears on the viewscreen, she’s covered in grease and holding some kind of massive wrench.
“Polly?” Her eyes widen. “Holy shit, is that really you? It’s been forever! I was starting to think you’d—” She stops. Squints. “Why do you look like you just got chased through a warzone?”
“Long story. Short version: I need a quantum relay and a lot of guns.”
Suki’s expression shifts instantly. The friendly warmth doesn’t disappear, but something harder slides underneath it.
“How bad?”
“Three Meridian cruisers bad. Maybe more by the time we get there.”
“Fuck.” She wipes her hands on her coveralls, already moving. “Okay. Get here. Henrok’s going to love this—nothing makes him happier than an excuse to blow shit up. When can we expect you?”
“Fourteen hours if everything goes—” I stop. Because Suki’s eyes have gone very wide, and she’s staring at something just off-screen. At me. Or more specifically, at my neck.
“Polly.” Her voice is carefully neutral. “Is that a bite mark?”
I feel my face heat. Beside me, Rynn has gone very still.
“That’s a Valorian bonding mark,” Suki continues, and now she’s grinning. “Oh my god. You bonded. You actually—” She leans closer to the screen, squinting. “Wait, is he there with you? Let me see him. HENROK!” She’s yelling now, off-screen. “COME HERE! POLLY FINALLY DID THE THING!”
“I’m going to kill you,” I mutter, but I’m smiling despite myself.
Rynn leans into frame, and I watch Suki’s eyes go wide again.
“Holy shit, he’s hot. No wonder you—”
“Suki,” I interrupt before she can finish that sentence. “Focus. Meridian. Guns. Quantum relay. We need sanctuary.”
Her grin doesn’t fade, but her eyes sharpen. “You’ve got it. Get here. We’ll hold the door.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s what family does.” She glances off-screen, where I can hear a deep voice rumbling questions. “Henrok says to tell you he’s activating full defensive protocols and clearing firing lanes. Also, he wants to know if your bond-mate requires any ceremonial accommodations.”
Rynn’s hand finds mine. Squeezes. “Tell the First Blade I require only a relay and the opportunity to defend what is mine.”
Suki’s expression softens. “I’ll tell him. Safe travels, Polly. Both of you.”
The connection cuts, and I’m left staring at the blank viewscreen.
“Fourteen hours,” I say quietly. “We jump in thirty seconds.”
Rynn leans close enough that his forehead touches mine. Close enough that I can feel the bond thrumming between us, warm and constant and absolutely terrifying.
“This is a terrible idea,” he murmurs. “But it’s ours.”
I kiss him once, hard and quick, tasting the promise of it. Then I pull back and grip the controls.
“Zip, get us out of here.”
“WITH PLEASURE, CAPTAIN CHAOS. JUMPING IN THREE... TWO... ONE.”
The stars stretch, reality warps, and Pink Slip leaps into hyperspace. Behind us, the Meridian fleet arrives thirty seconds too late. Ahead of us: sanctuary, or war, or maybe both.
But we’re together. Bonded. Claimed.
And somehow, against every scrap of common sense I’ve ever possessed, that feels like enough.