14. Davrik
CHAPTER 14
DAVRIK
T he soldering iron trembles in my hand as I make another connection. Sweat trickles down my neck, and I brush it away with my shoulder. The ship's console lies gutted before me, wires and circuit boards scattered across the deck.
"Come on, you stubborn piece of..." I touch the iron to another connection point. The smell of burning metal fills my nose.
My mind drifts to Alice, out there collecting her samples. The mate bond pulses stronger each day, urging me to stay close, to protect her. To tell her everything. The thought of her finding out what really goes on in my work makes my stomach turn.
A spark jumps from the connection, and I jerk back. "Shit!"
The burn barely registers. I've had worse. Much worse. But none of those injuries felt as painful as lying to her.
That damn bond is going to undo me.
I make the final connection and hold my breath as I power up the system. The console flickers once, twice...
"Systems online. Running diagnostics." Navi's familiar voice fills the cockpit. "Hello, Davrik. You look terrible."
"Thanks." I wipe my hands on my pants. "Good to have you back."
"Accessing damage reports. Hull integrity at twenty-seven percent. Primary engines offline. Secondary?—"
"I know all that. What I need is your opinion on something else."
"The human female you've been copulating with?"
I nearly drop the soldering iron. "How did you?—"
"My sensors may have been offline, but my memory banks were intact. I recorded your activities in the cargo hold. And in the station gymnasium. And on the couch?—"
"That's enough." Heat creeps up my neck. "What do you think about her?"
"She appears to be an adequate mate, despite being human. Though her presence compromises our mission parameters."
I lean back in the pilot's seat, running a hand through my hair. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Very well. Based on my calculations, there is an eighty-seven percent chance she will discover the cargo's contents before the transport arrives."
The mate bond throbs in response, and I close my eyes. "Those aren't good odds."
"No, Davrik. They're not."
"She's too..." I trail off, unable to find the right word. Pure? Innocent? Nothing fits without sounding condescending. "She has a real career. One that matters."
"Unlike yours?" Navi's tone lacks its usual bite.
"Exactly." I trace the edge of the console with my finger. "She's studying plants that could save lives. Meanwhile, I'm hauling contraband for men who'd kill her just for knowing about it."
The mate bond constricts painfully in my chest. Alice's work matters. She matters. And I'm putting her at risk just by being here.
"The cargo must be delivered," Navi says, her voice unusually gentle. "But perhaps after that..."
"After that what? I become a legitimate courier? Please." My laugh comes out hollow. "Men like me don't get clean slates."
"Your psychological patterns indicate increased stress levels. Would you like me to play some calming music?"
"What I'd like is for you to be your usual smartass self. This understanding routine is freaking me out."
"Even my programming recognizes when levity is inappropriate." A pause. "Are you concerned about my functionality?"
"Actually, yeah. You feeling okay in there?"
"I am operating within normal parameters. I simply recognize that this situation requires a different approach. The mate bond is not something to be treated lightly."
I press my palms against my eyes. "Since when are you an expert on mate bonds?"
"I have accessed several databases on Kaleidian biology and culture. Would you like me to share my findings?"
"No." The last thing I need is a lecture from my AI about destiny and biological imperatives. "Just... help me figure out how to keep her safe until the transport arrives."
"That would be easier if you told her the truth."
The bond pulses again, and I ignore it. "Not happening."
Navi's interface dims slightly - her version of closing her eyes in concentration. The familiar hum of her processing core fills the silence. My fingers drum against the console, leaving smudges on the metal.
"Running probability matrices." Her voice carries that analytical tone I usually only hear during complex flight calculations. "Factoring in known variables about your profession, personality profile, and the human's characteristics."
"Just spit it out."
"There is a .12% chance of a positive outcome if you maintain your current profession."
My hand stills on the console. "Define positive outcome."
"Scenarios where Alice remains alive, unharmed, and in a relationship with you."
The mate bond constricts painfully in my chest. "And if I went legitimate?"
"Success probability increases to 76.8%." She pauses. "Though I suspect you won't like the particulars."
"Try me."
"You'd need to register as an official courier. Pass an examination and registration fee. Submit to regular cargo inspections. File flight plans. Pay taxes and docking fees. Have your ship inspected annually for safety protocols."
A laugh bursts from my throat. "Right. Smile at customers while hauling their overpriced trinkets across regulated space lanes. Making what, a quarter of what I do now?"
"Approximately one-fifth, actually. But you'd have health insurance."
"Fantastic." I slump in my seat. "What happens in the other scenarios? The ones where I keep doing what I'm good at?"
"In 43% of projections, Alice leaves you upon discovering the truth. In 31%, she becomes collateral damage in one of your jobs. The remaining scenarios..." Navi's voice softens. "You don't want those details."
The mate bond pulses, and I press a hand to my chest. Each heartbeat feels like it's pumping ice through my veins.
"Those are just calculations," I mutter. "Probabilities. Not certainties."
"True. But when have my calculations ever been wrong?"
"Take a break, Navi." I push away from the console, my joints creaking from hours hunched over circuits.
"Very well. Try not to do anything stupid while I'm offline."
"There's the girl I know."
The setting sun paints the sky in shades of purple and orange as I step outside. A warm breeze carries the scent of alien flowers - the ones Alice showed me last week. The mate bond tightens at the thought of her name.
Movement catches my eye. Alice appears over the ridge, her sample case swinging at her side. Her hair's come loose from its tie, strands dancing in the wind. She spots me and waves, her smile bright enough to rival the setting sun.
My chest aches. The bond screams at me to go to her, hold her, keep her safe. But Navi's right - the only way to truly protect her is to let her go.
She quickens her pace. "Hey! Make any progress with that Navi system? I've been dying to meet her!"
"Yeah." I keep my arms crossed, maintaining distance even as every cell in my body yearns to close it. Her choice of words rips into my heart, laying bear the fears growing there.
She reaches for me, but I step back. Confusion flickers across her face, followed by hurt. The bond constricts painfully.
"I made some progress with those specimens from the northern valley." Her voice wavers slightly. "Would you like to join me for dinner? I could tell you about it."
"No." The word comes out harder than intended. I force myself to soften it. "Thanks, but I need to run more diagnostics."
"Oh." She clutches her sample case tighter. "Okay. Well, if you change your mind..."
I turn away before I can see more disappointment in her eyes. "Goodnight, Alice."
My feet carry me back to the ship on autopilot. Each step feels like walking through quicksand, the bond fighting me every inch of the way.
Better this than seeing her dead. Better a clean break than a bloody end.
I repeat this to myself as I climb back into the cockpit, but it doesn't make the pain any easier to bear.