Chapter 23 #2
“Wait until you get inside.” Torian wasn’t uncertain at all. She was so excited to show her sister around. She beckoned Celise down the steps to the cargo bay. “We’ll be back, Moss!”
“I will join you inside.”
That made Torian pause. “Inside?”
“With this proximity to Vaesa, I have reconnected to the colony Dutch borrowed, and the one I created during your confrontation with the draic. Both have access to cameras and speakers throughout the station.” Moss paused.
“No, I am not leaving. I have enough processing power to split my attention.” Another pause.
“It is unrealistic to expect my entire focus, Auto-Nav.”
Celise quirked an eyebrow.
Torian waved it off, mouthing, Later. Then she said, out loud: “See you there, then. Bye, Auto-Nav! We’ll be back in a bit.” She pressed the holographic panel to open the cargo bay door, leading Celise into the warm air of Vaesa.
The dock was still distractingly ornate, framed with wooden carvings and handmade rugs.
It smelled as earthen as the first time they’d visited—but now, after touching down on Rhymarra, Torian could really appreciate how good the air quality felt here.
While Celise ran her fingers along a worn wooden bench, gaping at the architecture, Torian hunted for any indication that Zen and Dutch had arrived.
Nothing. Curious.
“Looks like we’re alone for now.” Torian tilted her head. “They must have docked somewhere else.”
Celise wasn’t listening. She’d skipped to a short tree with shimmering round leaves beside the dock’s entrance. Skeptically, she put her hand on its smooth, white bark—and then pivoted back to Torian. “This place has trees. Actual trees.”
Torian rolled her eyes. “I told you it had trees.”
“I didn’t believe you.”
“That sounds like a you-problem.” Torian smirked and stepped past her, through the dock’s wide doorway into the central dome’s outer ring. Above them, the kerrac tree shimmered in artificial wind. The pine forest surrounding it was barely visible over the buildings. Celise stared at all of it.
“It’s magical, huh?” Torian breathed. She couldn’t believe she actually got to share this with her sister. Without Dutch’s help, without Moss, Torian would have had a much different week. But this …
This was hope. True hope.
Celise noticed her gaze and quickly rearranged her features. “Don’t get ideas, Torian. Just because I’m impressed doesn’t mean I’m moving here. There’s no—”
“Halt!”
A deep voice echoed overhead, and a new draic—not Zenthielutos—slammed to the ground a breath later. This one was also male, and had dark purple scales. His horns were more curved than Zen’s, and he bared his fangs. “Who are you? State your business.”
Celise yelped, fumbling in her pockets. She found a holopad pen in her pocket and brandished it like a sword, even as she staggered backward. “G-get back!”
Torian and the draic both stared at it.
“Wow. Very threatening, Lise.” Torian gently lowered the pen with two fingers.
She couldn’t blame her sister for that response, especially since she’d done almost the same thing—but now it felt doubly stupid.
Torian faced the draic, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you with Zenthielutos’s crew? I’m Torian Razner.
The one who purchased Sequelta vel Dutch-Ath’s ship? ”
The draic instantly relaxed, his wings folding slightly. “Hmm. Zen told me you’d be coming at some point.” He crossed his arms, one claw tapping against his scales. “Well, you’re late, but I suppose it’s good you finally got here. I’m Voranthir, Zen’s medic.”
A doctor. Already, Celise perked up, assessing the draic with professional curiosity now.
The draic didn’t seem to have the same opinion. He noticed Celise looking and narrowed his slitted eyes.
Torian cleared her throat and offered a hand, mostly out of habit. The draic regarded her, then took her hand as if humoring her human customs. His grip was comically loose—which, she supposed, was better than how tight it could have been.
“Are you going to put that … weapon … away?” Voranthir gestured at the holopad pen.
Celise’s cheeks colored, but she stood her ground. “Why? Does it intimidate you?”
Voranthir seemed utterly unamused. “It looks like something we use to clean our teeth.” Now he bared his fangs again, showing more pointed teeth than necessary.
Celise looked torn between snarking back, and outright running away. The result was a tense posture and an even tighter grip on her holopad pen.
Torian forced a laugh, lightening the tension. “This is Celise, my sister.”
“Doctor Razner, to him.” Celise scowled.
Voranthir chuckled. “Doctor? A human medical professional? How quaint.”
That shattered any fear Celise held. She squared her shoulders, stepping into the draic’s space. “Excuse you. I went through all the same medical training that—”
“Okay, okay,” Torian hastily inserted. “Voranthir, is there a reason you’re patrolling the space station?
” Torian aimed for as neutral a tone as possible, holding up a hand to placate her fuming sister.
Celise shot him the dirtiest look, but turned away, as if this draic suddenly wasn’t worth her time.
Voranthir appeared amused now. He tucked his wings against his muscular back, crossing his bulky arms again. “We received a transmission that an unidentified human starship would be arriving. Zen wanted to be sure raiders or smugglers weren’t coming to ransack the station.”
Torian had completely forgotten that Dutch and Zen had no warning when it came to Amelia’s crew landing here. She’d mentioned Amelia in passing during their brainstorming phase, but hadn’t expected to find the smuggler captain so soon after making these plans.
Of course, a random human starship announcing their arrival would raise suspicion for someone like Zen.
“Incredible that they have you on bystander duty,” Celise drawled, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “And here I thought you were their valued medic.”
That finally broke Voranthir’s cool. He growled, a literal, guttural sound. “Patrolling a nylarian heritage site is an honor—”
“Mmm. I can imagine. You’re doing such a great job protecting Vaesa from us.” Celise twirled the pen in her fingers pointedly.
Oh Heavens, this was a disaster. Torian cleared her throat, yet again playing peacemaker.
“That new ship is … well, they are smugglers, but they’re friendly.
My old crew.” Without wormhole travel, it was natural that Amelia’s trip would take a bit longer, even if they’d come here straight from Colony 4.
The fact that they’d already received a transmission from Amelia must mean they were fairly close by.
Maybe only a day or so away, depending on transmission range.
In her heart of hearts, Torian was more excited to show Amelia the space station than Celise, which was absurd and somehow still true.
It must have been plastered on her face, because Celise shot her a knowing look. “Amelia’s coming too? What a surprise.” Celise didn’t sound surprised.
Torian flushed. “What? She has extensive supply chains. We’ll need that.”
“Sure. Completely innocent intentions. Business only.”
“It is,” Torian insisted.
Voranthir had returned to the matter at hand. Ignoring Celise entirely, he asked, “The starship is called the Charlatan. Is that familiar to you?”
Torian rubbed the back of her neck. “Amelia’s ship changes names every few days. No one else knows this place existed, so unless it’s a highly random happenstance, it has to be her.” Lyric certainly didn’t have a starship, after all.
“Hmm.” Voranthir didn’t seem convinced, but he also clearly didn’t want to spend more time with Torian …
and Celise. He gestured down the path. “Zen and Dutch are waiting in the residential ring. I’ll keep watch for your …
friends.” By his tone, it sounded like the word tasted physically terrible to him.
His eyes skirted to Celise. “Nice to meet you … Doctor.”
“Likewise, Medic,” she replied curtly.
Voranthir shook his head and spread massive wings, leaping into the air with ease. Once he was out of earshot, Celise reluctantly tucked the holopad pen back into her pocket.
“What was that?” Torian demanded.
“Just because he’s a draic doesn’t mean he can’t also be an asshole,” Celise said primly, and walked in the direction he’d gestured.
With little response to that, Torian groaned and followed.