Chapter 4
Priya, Moon Base Arturri, Recon Bay
The Wraith looked like someone had taught a knife to fly. I fell in love immediately.
She sat in the center of the reconnaissance bay, sixty feet of matte-black hull, swept-back wings, and engines built for speed rather than a fair fight. Light seemed to vanish against her surface. No shine. No visible seams. No markings except the black on black Velerion crest near the cockpit.
“She’s gorgeous.”
“Yes,” Vesh said behind me.
His voice sounded odd. I glanced over my shoulder and caught him looking at my ass in the fitted black Starfighter uniform Jamie had delivered that morning. He lifted his gaze to mine without apology.
Oh. He had not been talking about the ship. Heat rushed into my face. And other places.
“Were you staring at me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re supposed to deny it.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't want to talk about our Starfighter marks. You obviously don't want a bondmate. So don't tease me or act interested when you didn't take me up on the offer last night."
Vesh’s gaze dropped to my ass again. Lingered.
My nipples tightened beneath my uniform. I turned back to the Wraith before he noticed. Too late. Based on the low sound in his throat.
This pair-bond situation was going to become a problem.
Especially since I'd blatantly invited him to share my bed last night and he'd declined the invitation.
Now? He was going to have to plead. Grovel.
Crawl to me on his hands and knees and beg forgiveness for making me feel like a complete idiot.
Bondmate, my ass. General Aryk said Vesh needed two people to fly the Wraith.
I just happened to be pilot number two. Which sucked.
I had the dream life all set in my head.
When Vesh showed up, part of believed that dream life was going to come true.
Instead I got a grumpy alien who barely smiled, didn't seem to know me at all—at least not the way I knew him—and, apparently, didn't find me attractive enough to have casual sex with.
The losses were piling up.
I walked along the Wraith’s port side and trailed my fingers over the hull.
The surface was cool and smoother than metal, but it had a slight give beneath my hand.
Maybe I could at least get a win out on a mission.
Vesh said the game was based on real missions.
Real flight controls. One thing I'd become very good at was flying this particular ship. “What is she made of?”
“A layered adaptive alloy. The outer surface absorbs scans and redistributes energy from weapons fire.”
“Like stealth coating?”
“If that comparison helps you.”
“It does.”
“Then yes.”
I stopped beneath the cockpit. “You said she was built for two scouts.”
“Pilot and copilot. The pilot controls navigation, engines, and primary weapons. The copilot manages sensors, communications, countermeasures, and threat analysis.”
“Which one are you?”
“Today? Copilot.”
“You’re letting me fly?”
“No.”
I frowned. Vesh walked past me toward the access ramp. “I am ordering you to fly. There is a difference.”
“Aren’t you charming this morning?”
“I allowed you to sleep six hours.”
“You allowed me?”
He paused at the ramp.
“Incorrect word choice,” he admitted.
“Smart alien.”
“Get in the ship, Priya.”
I grinned and followed him. The cockpit was smaller than the gaming simulation had suggested. Much smaller. Two seats sat side by side with a narrow console between them. Displays curved overhead and along both sides, filling nearly every available surface.
Velerion symbols appeared across the main screen. The implant adjusted them as I watched, the alien marks blurring and reforming into English.
“That is never going to stop being weird,” I said.
“You will adjust.”
“How long did it take the others?”
“Starfighter Miller adjusted within a few hours. Becker and Wilson as well.”
“That’s disappointingly normal.”
“Nothing about those three females is normal.”
“You say that like they wore you down and forced you to like them.”
“They did.”
I lowered myself into the pilot’s seat. Vesh sat beside me.
Our thighs touched. The mark at my neck warmed.
Neither of us moved away. There was nowhere to go.
The cockpit had clearly been designed for two people who were either extremely comfortable with each other or had no concern about personal space.
Vesh’s shoulder pressed against mine as he reached for the upper controls.
His scent filled the enclosed area. Clean skin, something mineral, and the faint bite of whatever he used to maintain his armor.
I wanted to turn my head and press my nose to his neck.
That would have been inappropriate. Also obvious.
“Are you listening?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“What did I just say?”
“Something about the sensor array.”
“I was explaining the emergency life-support system.”
“Same general area.”
“Not remotely.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t sit so close.”
“There is nowhere else to sit.”
“Exactly my problem.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth. For a second, neither of us spoke. The cockpit felt even smaller. Then Vesh turned back to the controls. “Focus.”
Right. Flying. Alien spaceship. Possible death. Much safer subjects than his lips.
He walked me through the systems one at a time.
Most matched the game almost exactly. But the real controls responded faster.
The propulsion indicators displayed power levels that made absolutely no sense in Earth measurements, but I didn't need to read numbers.
I was used to active graphs and visual displays.
I knew this ship inside and out. This one was just bigger.
The weapons system required both our authorization marks before it would arm.
“Put your hand here,” Vesh instructed.
I placed my palm on the console. Black lines spread beneath my skin, matching the swirl on my neck. Light moved from my hand into the Wraith. The ship powered up. I felt it.
Not through the seat or the controls. Inside my body. A faint vibration moved along my nerves, as if the Wraith had taken one look at me and decided I belonged to her.
“Whoa.”
“The nanoparticles recognize both members of the pair,” Vesh said. “No one else can access the ship’s complete systems.”
“So she belongs to us.”
“Yes.”
Us.
I liked that word far too much. The bay doors opened. A force field shimmered across the exit, holding in the atmosphere while revealing open space beyond. My hands settled around the controls. They fit.
“Request departure clearance,” Vesh said.
I glanced at him. “You’re making me talk to alien air traffic control?”
“You are familiar with the process.”
“Finally, something I understand.”
I opened the channel. “Arturri Recon Control, Wraith requesting departure clearance.” The controller answered immediately. “Wraith, cleared for launch corridor seven. Maintain approach speed until outer marker. Welcome to Velerion, Elite Starfighter Anand.”
“Thank you, Control. Wraith departing corridor seven.”
I looked at Vesh. “See? I’m completely qualified.”
“You have not moved the ship. You do not know where to go.”
“Details.”
I eased the Wraith off the deck. The controls were more sensitive than anything I had ever touched. A slight movement lifted us ten feet. Another turned the ship toward the bay exit.
“Reduce thrust,” Vesh said.
“I know.”
“You are accelerating.”
“I know.”
“The wall is approaching.”
“Vesh.”
“Reducing thrust would be advisable.”
“If you grab the controls, I will break your fingers.”
“You could try.”
I brought the Wraith through the force field perfectly centered in the launch corridor. The moon fell away beneath us. Open space filled the viewport. Real space. Not a computer rendering. Not a simulation.
Thousands of stars burned against the black. Velerion hung to our right, blue and green and so enormous I had trouble understanding the scale of it. For several seconds, I forgot Vesh existed.
“Priya?”
“Give me a minute.”
He did. That might have been the kindest thing he had done since I woke up.
I had spent fifteen years watching aircraft as dots on a screen. I knew where they were, how fast they moved, and how much empty space belonged between them. But I had always been behind glass. Safe on the ground.
Now I had an alien scout ship beneath my hands and an entire planet below me.
“This is incredible.”
“Yes.”
Vesh understood. I could hear it in his voice. I turned toward him. “How long have you flown her?”
“Six years.”
The first personal fact he had volunteered. I held on to it. “And you still love it?”
“Every flight.”
“Good. I was worried this might get boring.”
“If a reconnaissance mission becomes boring, you are most likely about to die.”
I burst into laughter. I couldn't help it. He was funny. “You really do know how to ruin a moment.”
“Another useful skill.”
He entered coordinates for a nearby training field. A map appeared on my display, showing a dense ring of wreckage and small asteroids. I recognized it.
“That’s the final corridor from the game.”
“The simulation was built from this field.”
“I died here fifty-six times.”
“I know.”
“Right. You watched.”
“Repeatedly.”
My cheeks warmed again. I couldn't believe he had listened to every conversation I'd had with my friends. “For the record, we are never discussing the ass-biting conversation.”
“You brought it up.”
“And now I’m ending it.”
“Fly the corridor.”
The field grew larger in the viewport. Wreckage rotated between tumbling rocks. The game had reproduced it well, but a screen could not capture the size. Some of the broken ship sections were larger than apartment buildings.
“Are the mines active?”
“No weapons. No explosives. The danger is entirely physical.”
“Reassuring.”
“If you strike the wreckage at speed, we will still die.”
“There it is. I knew reassurance couldn’t last.”
I guided the Wraith toward the wide central lane.
The safe route. Then I noticed a smaller opening forming along the left edge.
Two slabs of wreckage rotated in opposite directions.
The space between them was too narrow now.
It would not be in four seconds. I knew that without checking the instruments.
“Priya,” Vesh said.
“I see it.”
“The central route is clear.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you turning left?”
“Because this one is faster.”
“It is also not open.”
“Not yet.”
I accelerated. Vesh did not grab the controls. He did not order me back to the safe lane.
He trusted me.
That realization hit almost as hard as the adrenaline. The first slab rotated up. The second dropped. A gap opened between them. I rolled the Wraith through. Black metal filled the canopy, close enough that I saw impact scars in the wreckage. Then we were clear.
I cut right, dove beneath a tumbling section of engine, and found the next opening before the sensors marked it.
The Wraith responded instantly. Every movement I made became motion.
No delay. No argument. God, I loved this ship.
When we cleared the field, my heart was hammering and my hands were steady.
Vesh had gone silent. I looked at him. The controlled expression was gone. His green eyes were wide, his jaw tight. He stared at me as if I had done something impossible.
“What?”
“You felt the openings.”
“I saw them.”
“No. You moved before they appeared on the sensors. You knew where they would be.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“It cannot be taught.”
“The game taught me.”
“The game gave you practice. It did not give you instinct.”
His gaze moved over my face. Admiration. Hunger. Something more dangerous that he immediately tried to hide. I knew what he wanted because I wanted it, too. The cockpit was small. His mouth was less than a foot from mine. If I leaned across the console, I could kiss him.
My body thought that was an excellent idea.
“Maybe that’s why the program made us bondmates,” I said.
Vesh’s expression closed. There it was. The retreat.
“That is enough training for today. Take us home, Scout.”
I wanted to ask what scared him more: the pair bond or the possibility that he might fall in love with me. Instead, I turned the Wraith toward Arturri.
“You said scouts usually fly alone,” I said after several minutes.
“Most do.”
“But the Wraith needs two.”
“She is more effective with a pair.”
“And you’ve flown her alone for six years.”
“Yes.”
I remembered General Aryk’s carefully chosen words. Since his last partner died.
“What happened to the person who sat here before me?”
Vesh stopped moving. Not even a blink.
“You don’t have to answer now,” I said. “But if we’re going into enemy territory together, I need to know what happened.”
He looked out at the stars. For a long moment, I thought he would refuse. “His name was Tavik.” His voice had changed. Rougher. Quiet.
“Was he your friend?”
“He was my brother.”
That was not what I was expecting. Arturri’s landing lights appeared ahead.
“Command is preparing a reconnaissance mission,” Vesh said. “The briefing is tomorrow. They want us to enter Xandraxian space and locate Queen Raya’s new supply lines.”
“How dangerous?”
“Very.”
“Are you going to tell them I’m not ready?”
“I have not decided.”
“I flew the corridor.”
“One corridor.”
“Perfectly.”
“Recklessly.”
“You liked it.”
His mouth twitched. “I did not dislike it.”
From Vesh, that was practically a standing ovation. I requested landing clearance and guided the Wraith toward the recon bay. As the moon rose to fill the viewport, I glanced at the empty space between our seats.
“Tell me about Tavik tonight,” I said.
Vesh’s hands curled into fists. Then he nodded.