Chapter 14 New Beginnings
New Beginnings
Ober
Three days after Christmas, I wake up to the smell of real coffee brewing in the Shadowhawk’s galley and the sound of Noomi humming something that might be a Terran holiday song.
My enhanced healing has me back to full strength, though the medical team insisted on keeping us docked to Mother’s ship for “observation.”
What they’re really observing is whether Noomi and I can manage to leave the medical bay for more than an hour without finding creative new uses for the examination table.
We cannot.
The answer is definitively, enthusiastically cannot.
But this morning feels different. There’s tension in the air that has nothing to do with the delicious ache in my muscles from our latest “follow-up appointment.” Noomi’s humming has an edge to it, and she’s making coffee instead of the tea she prefers, which means she’s nervous about something.
I find her in the galley, hair still mussed from sleep, wearing one of my shirts that hits her mid-thigh and nothing else. The sight of her in my clothes, marked with my scent, sends a surge of possessive satisfaction through my Felaxian hindbrain that will never get old.
“Morning, mate,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind and nuzzling the spot on her neck where my bite mark is finally fading to silver. She shivers against me, and I catch the spike in her scent that means she’s remembering exactly how she got that mark.
“Careful,” she warns, but she’s leaning back against my chest. “We have actual news to discuss today, and if you start that, we’ll never get through it.”
“What kind of news?” I ask, though I keep my mouth exactly where it is. Her pulse point is right there, and the temptation to add a fresh mark is overwhelming.
“The kind that requires coffee and serious conversation,” she says, turning in my arms to face me. Her expression is carefully neutral, which immediately puts me on high alert. “Kex has been fielding communications all morning.”
Before I can ask what kind of communications, Kex himself appears in the galley doorway, looking like he’s been awake for hours. Probably has been—the man runs on three hours of sleep and sheer stubborn determination.
“Captain,” he says, nodding to me before his gaze slides to Noomi with the kind of respectful acknowledgment that tells me the crew has fully accepted her as mine. “You’ll want to hear this.”
We settle around the small galley table, Noomi pouring coffee while Kex pulls up his data pad.
The domestic normalcy of it hits me unexpectedly—sharing morning coffee with my mate while my first officer briefs us on ship business.
It feels like something I could get used to. Something I want to get used to.
“First, the good news,” Kex begins. “Vex and Krax have been apprehended. STI caught up with them at a fuel depot two systems over. Apparently they were trying to fence the Christmas delivery cargo they’d already stolen.”
Relief floods through me. With Vex and Krax in custody, the immediate threat to Noomi is gone. She can breathe easier, work without looking over her shoulder, build the life she wants without the shadow of revenge hanging over both of us.
“They’re both looking at serious time,” Kex continues. “Conspiracy, kidnapping, theft of protected cargo, assault on STI personnel. Luzrak estimates minimum fifteen years, possibly life if they can prove the pattern of previous attacks.”
“And the bad news?” Noomi asks, because she’s learned to read Kex’s expressions almost as well as I have.
“No bad news, exactly,” Kex says carefully. “But there are... developments.”
He slides his data pad across the table, and I see a series of communications from various sources. The first is from Luzrak, marked official STI business. The second is from an address I don’t recognize but that makes Noomi’s eyes widen with surprise.
“That’s from OOPs,” she says, reaching for the pad. “My employers.”
She reads quickly, her expression shifting from neutral to surprised to something that might be hope. When she looks up, her eyes are bright with possibility.
“They want me back,” she says simply. “Hazard pay for the kidnapping incident, and—” She pauses, glancing at me with an expression I can’t quite read. “They want to offer me a promotion. Lead courier for high-priority deliveries across the outer rim.”
It’s everything she’s worked for. Recognition, advancement, the chance to build something meaningful in the legitimate world she chose over the criminal one we used to share. I should be happy for her. I am happy for her.
I’m also terrified.
“What about the other communication?” I ask, nodding toward Luzrak’s message.
Kex clears his throat. “STI wants to offer you an official commendation for your actions during the Christmas delivery crisis. Luzrak says there’s talk of a formal pardon for past... activities... in recognition of your heroic service.”
The words hang in the air between us. A pardon. Official recognition. The chance to step fully into the legitimate world alongside Noomi, if that’s what she wants.
“There’s more,” Kex continues, and now he’s definitely avoiding my eyes.
“STI wants to offer you a deal for the Shadowhawk. They’re willing to overlook her.
.. colorful history... in recognition of her service during the Christmas crisis.
You could register her as a legitimate salvage and freight vessel, keep her flying under your own name. ”
My coffee goes cold in my hands. It’s a generous offer—more than generous. The chance to keep my ship and go legitimate at the same time. But as I look across the table at Noomi, I realize the Shadowhawk represents a life I’m ready to leave behind.
“I appreciate the offer,” I tell Kex, “but I accept on one condition. You take ownership of her.”
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear the ship’s life support systems humming.
“I’m sorry, what now?” Kex says faintly.
“You heard me. I’ll take the deal with STI, but only if you become the official owner and captain of the Shadowhawk.”
Kex’s weathered face goes through several interesting color changes. “Captain, I... I’m a tactical officer. I know ships, I know weapons, I know how to keep a crew alive in a firefight. But I don’t know the first thing about running a legitimate business!”
“You know more than you think,” I tell him. “And salvage and freight work is basically what we’ve been doing anyway, just without having to dodge patrol ships.”
“But the paperwork!” Kex protests, looking genuinely horrified. “The regulations! The... the customer service!”
Noomi snorts with laughter. “The great Kex Gorgen, who once talked us out of an STI inspection by convincing them we were a research vessel studying migratory space whales, is afraid of customer service?”
“That’s different,” Kex says with wounded dignity. “That was creative lying. Customer service is...” He shudders. “Being nice to people on purpose.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder. “Besides, half our crew already thinks you’re in charge anyway.”
“Because you keep disappearing into medical bays with your mate!” Kex explodes, then immediately looks embarrassed at his outburst.
“And now you understand why you’d be a better captain than me,” I point out. “You actually care about things like duty rosters and maintenance schedules.”
Kex stares at me for a long moment, then slowly shakes his head. “You’re serious. You’re actually giving me the Shadowhawk.”
“I’m giving you the chance to be your own captain instead of babysitting mine,” I correct. “The question is, do you want her?”
The transformation in Kex’s expression is something to see. Wonder, terror, and determination war across his weathered features before settling into something that looks suspiciously like excitement.
“I... yes,” he says quietly. “Yes, I want her. I’ve wanted my own command for years, I just never thought...” He trails off, then straightens with sudden resolve. “I’ll need to talk to the crew. See who wants to stay for legitimate work and who wants to find another pirate ship.”
“Most of them will stay,” Noomi predicts. “Jenna’s been complaining about constantly looking over her shoulder for patrol ships, and Torven mentioned wanting to settle down with his partner.”
“And the ones who don’t stay will understand,” I add. “It’s a big change.”
Kex nods, still looking slightly stunned. “I should... I should start researching freight regulations. And salvage laws. And...” He pauses, horror dawning on his face again. “Insurance policies.”
“One step at a time,” I tell him, trying not to laugh at his expression.
It’s a good offer. More than good—it’s perfect. Kex has been my first officer for eight years, knows the ship better than anyone except me. The crew respects him, and he has the tactical mind to keep them all alive in whatever adventures they choose next.
But it also means giving up the life I’ve built, the identity I’ve worn like armor for so long I’m not sure who I am without it.
“The thing is,” Noomi says quietly, and I realize she’s been watching me process all of this with those sharp eyes that see everything, “OOPs is based out of Junction One. It’s legitimate work, but it’s still dangerous.
Still involves traveling to places most people won’t go, dealing with situations that require someone with. .. particular skills.”
She’s offering me a lifeline. A way to stay in her world without completely abandoning mine.
“They’re always looking for security consultants,” she continues. “People with experience in hostile situations, knowledge of criminal networks, the kind of tactical thinking that keeps cargo and crew safe in dangerous territory.”
“You’re offering me a job?” I ask, and I can’t keep the smile out of my voice.
“I’m offering you a choice,” she says, reaching across the table to take my hand. “The same choice I should have gave you three years ago when I walked away to figure out who I wanted to be.”