Chapter 14 New Beginnings #2
She’s loving me enough to let me choose my own path, even if it means we might end up in different places.
But we won’t. Because the path I want, the life I want, the future I want—it all includes her.
“Kex,” I say, turning to my first officer. “Draw up the transfer papers. The Shadowhawk is yours.”
His weathered face breaks into the first genuine smile I’ve seen from him in months. “Captain—”
“Former captain,” I correct. “I think I’m about to become a security consultant.”
Noomi’s smile is radiant, but there’s still something in her expression that suggests this conversation isn’t over.
“There’s one more thing,” she says, and now she’s definitely nervous. “The promotion comes with a base assignment. I’d have my own ship, my own crew, but I’d be working out of Nexus Station. It’s... it’s permanent. No more wandering from job to job, planet to planet. It’s settling down.”
And there it is. The real question beneath all the others. Not just whether I’m willing to give up piracy for her, but whether I’m willing to give up the rootless, restless life we’ve both lived for something that looks suspiciously like a future.
“Sounds terrifying,” I tell her honestly.
“Absolutely terrifying,” she agrees.
“When do we start?”
Her smile could power a space station. “You’re sure? Because once we do this, there’s no going back to the way things were. We’ll be partners in everything—work, life, all of it.”
“Noomi,” I say, standing up and pulling her into my arms, “I’ve been sure about you since the day I met you. The only thing I was ever unsure about was whether you’d let me stick around long enough to prove it.”
She rises on her toes to kiss me, soft and sweet and full of promise. When we break apart, Kex is diplomatically studying his data pad, though I can see the satisfaction in his expression.
“I should contact OOPs,” Noomi says. “Let them know I’m accepting the promotion and that I’ll be bringing a security consultant with me.”
“And let Mother know what we’ve decided,” I realize. “I’m sure she’s been worried about you since the kidnapping.”
Noomi snorts as she activates her personal comm unit, and after a moment, Mother’s familiar voice fills the galley with its characteristic blend of authority and dry humor.
“Jaxson. Please tell me you’re calling to accept the promotion and not to inform me that you’ve decided to become a full-time pirate.”
“Hello to you too, Mother,” Noomi laughs. “I’m accepting the promotion. But there’s a small complication.”
“Define small. And please tell me it doesn’t involve another rescue operation.”
“I’m bringing a security consultant with me. Someone with extensive experience in hostile territory navigation and criminal network assessment.”
There’s a pause. “Jaxson, please tell me you haven’t hired your pirate boyfriend as muscle.”
“I haven’t hired my pirate boyfriend as muscle,” Noomi says dutifully. Then she grins. “I’ve hired my reformed pirate mate as my security partner.”
The silence stretches long enough that I start to wonder if the connection has been lost.
“Mother?” Noomi asks. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” Mother says in that tone she uses when she’s processing impossible courier complications. “I’m just... calculating insurance premiums. Your mate. As in, permanent Felaxian bonding mate?”
“As in territorial alien who just gave up his ship to follow me into legitimate work,” Noomi confirms, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Complete with protective instincts that should make your risk assessments very interesting.”
“Well,” Mother says, and I can hear the grudging approval creeping into her voice. “At least this one’s proven he can handle himself in a crisis. And Captain Kraine, I assume you’re listening to this conversation?”
“Hello, Mother,” I say, leaning closer to the comm unit. “Thank you for taking care of her these past three years.”
“Thank you for keeping her alive,” Mother replies with characteristic bluntness. “Multiple times, according to Luzrak’s reports. Though I understand congratulations are in order.”
“On what?” Noomi asks suspiciously.
“On managing to have a relationship conversation that lasted longer than five minutes without someone disappearing into the night,” Mother says dryly. “Luzrak mentioned you two have a history of dramatic exits.”
Noomi’s cheeks turn pink. “We’ve worked through our communication issues.”
“Good. Because I don’t have time to send rescue teams every time you two have a lovers’ quarrel.”
Before either of us can respond, PIP’s cheerful voice cuts through the comm channel: “Mother! Mother! Are we having a status meeting? Because I have SO much to report about the Christmas delivery statistics and also Jaxson and Captain Kraine’s medical bay activities!”
The silence that follows this announcement is deafening.
“PIP,” Noomi says carefully, “what exactly do you mean by medical bay activities?”
“Well, according to the ship’s environmental systems, there’s been a 340% increase in oxygen consumption in Medical Bay 3, elevated temperature readings, and several instances of equipment being moved in patterns that don’t match standard medical procedures!
Also, someone keeps overriding the privacy locks, which is very interesting from a data analysis perspective! ”
I bury my face in my hands while Noomi makes a strangled sound that might be laughter or mortification.
“PIP,” Mother says in the tone of someone who’s dealt with this exact situation before, “we’ve discussed the importance of not analyzing personal data without permission.”
“But it’s such interesting data! Did you know that Felaxian biology shows measurable changes in—”
“PIP!” both Noomi and Mother say simultaneously.
“Right, right. Personal privacy. Very important. I’ll just... file this data under ‘Do Not Discuss’ along with all the information about that time Jinny accidentally broadcast her poetry readings to the entire—”
“PIP,” Mother interrupts with steel in her voice, “focus on the Christmas delivery report. Now.”
“Oh yes! Excellent suggestion! The final statistics are remarkable—99.7% successful delivery rate across seventeen star systems, with family reunion satisfaction ratings averaging 9.8 out of 10! The galaxy-wide response has been so positive that three additional sectors have requested inclusion in next year’s program! ”
“Good,” Mother says with satisfaction. “Actual results instead of gossip.”
“And Captain Kraine’s heroic actions have been cited in no fewer than forty-seven official reports! I’ve compiled a comprehensive database of commendations, news articles, and what appears to be several marriage proposals from admirers across the galaxy!”
“Marriage proposals?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh yes! Apparently, the ‘reformed pirate with a heart of gold’ narrative is very popular in certain demographic groups. I have a detailed analysis of the responses if you’d like to—”
“Pass,” I say quickly, while Noomi tries to muffle her laughter.
“PIP,” Mother says with characteristic bluntness, “send me that Christmas delivery report and quit broadcasting personal information. Some of us have actual work to do.”
“Excellent idea! Transmitting now! Also, should I begin preparations for next year’s Christmas operation? Because I have several optimization suggestions that involve—”
“Later, PIP,” Mother cuts her off. “Jaxson, I’ll expect you at Junction One within the week to begin your new position. And Kraine, try not to let all those marriage proposals go to your head.”
“Marriage proposals?” Noomi asks. “Mother, we never said anything about—”
“Kid, you’re bonded to a territorial alien who just gave up his ship and his entire way of life to follow you into legitimate work. If that’s not marriage material, I don’t know what is. Just try to keep the romantic drama to a minimum until after you deliver the mail.”
The comm unit goes quiet, leaving Noomi and me staring at each other across the galley table.
“Well,” I say finally, “I guess we’re engaged.”
“I guess we are,” she agrees, grinning. “Think we should make it official?”
“What, more official than Felaxian bonding and public declaration in front of your boss?”
“Good point,” she says, leaning across the table to kiss me. “Though I reserve the right to demand a proper proposal later.”
“I’ll make a note in my calendar,” I tell her solemnly. “Right after ‘Learn to fill out legitimate shipping manifests’ and ‘Figure out what security consultants actually do.’”
Kex stands, gathering his data pad with efficient movements. “I’ll leave you two to your... planning,” he says with the kind of diplomatic tone that suggests he knows exactly how we do our best planning. “The transfer papers will be ready by this afternoon.”
After he leaves, Noomi and I stand in the quiet galley, holding each other and processing the magnitude of what we’ve just decided. In the space of one conversation, we’ve dismantled the lives we’ve built separately and committed to building something entirely new together.
“Are you really okay with this?” she asks, and I can hear the vulnerability beneath the question. “Giving up the Shadowhawk, the crew, everything you’ve built?”
“I’m not giving it up,” I tell her, stroking her hair. “I’m passing it on to someone who’ll take care of it. And I’m not losing anything that matters—I’m gaining everything I want.”
“Even the settling down part?”
“Especially the settling down part,” I say, and realize I mean it. “Three years ago, the idea of being tied to one place, one person, one life would have sent me running. But that was before I learned that the right person doesn’t tie you down—they give you a reason to stay.”
She melts against me, and for a moment we just hold each other in the quiet galley while the future reshapes itself around us.
“Actually,” I say, remembering something that’s been burning a hole in my personal storage for the past three days, “since we’re talking about new beginnings, I have something for you.”