Chapter 25 Community
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I don’t see Marlowe again until the Midas touches down at Red Horizon. With everything that’s going on, it puts me in a foul mood. The crew avoid me, too. In the meantime, I’d received a message from Liz— one word: Homebound.
It felt incredibly anticlimactic.
Relief was short-lived when I realised I might have the means to get Marlowe and Vee away, but it doesn’t matter much if the woman won’t talk to me.
Eduard and Mae don’t bother to interact with us except to emphasise that the Securitas IV is right behind us with reinforcements.
Whilst the ship joins the docking queue, everyone gathers their belongings and prepares to disembark.
My crew are nervous, and the energy that surrounds them is one of uncertainty and apprehension.
Red Horizon is much smaller than Novus Junction, so we have plenty of time to get our affairs in order as the Midas crawls through all the security checks and is assigned a bay. It’s at this point that Vee comes barrelling into me in the cargo bay, nearly knocking me off my feet.
“Navrena,” I say. Gentle. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I tilt his chin up and see that I wasn’t imagining the dampness against my shirt. His eyes are wet, his nose pink.
“I don’t want to go,” he sniffles.
“You’re not rid of us yet. We’ve still got to dock, and the station is big; it takes a while to cross.” I force a smile, but it’s not a very good one.
He shoves his forehead back into my stomach and clutches onto me for dear life.
My heart does a painful somersault, and now he’s not the only one holding on tightly.
When I look up, I catch Marlowe’s tearful gaze from the other side of the bay.
Vee’s suitcase is at her feet, and a bright backpack hangs off one shoulder.
I can tell from her appearance that neither one of us slept last night.
Tactfully, the crew have made themselves scarce.
I watch Marlowe approach, my pulse jackhammering in my veins.
I had hoped we could talk before this, so I could tell her my plan and circumvent tears—avoid the expectation of a goodbye.
There was always a chance she would decline my offer, but there was also always a chance that she would accept.
Marlowe looks broken, and I know she won’t.
One hand extended, I reach for her. She looks at it and folds her arms against her chest so tightly it looks like she’s trying to hold herself up.
“I can’t,” she says quietly.
“I have a plan,” I blurt out. My voice is low, but I know she heard because she flinches. “There’s a ship—”
“Stop.”
I falter, letting my gaze roam over her, wishing I could decipher her expression. “Marlowe, I know it might sound farfetched, but I can get us on a ship and off this planet within the hour. You don’t have to see Gryphon.”
“Please stop. We can’t leave with you. I appreciate it, but we have to go.”
At first, I think I’ve misheard her, but the longer I stare at her, at the tears glittering on her cheeks, at her chaotic curls, at her inability to look at me, the more it sinks in. It doesn’t matter that I would throw away everything for her; she doesn’t want it—doesn’t want me.
It hurts more than I ever could have imagined. My throat constricts. A fist takes my heart in its palm and squeezes mercilessly. I want to yell. I want to break. But with Vee wrapped so fiercely around me, I somehow manage to withstand.
“Okay,” I rasp. “Okay.”
“He won’t report me. We’ll be fine.”
Marlowe forces back something that sounds like a sob, steeling her spine and throwing her shoulders back. When she reaches for Vee, he falls into her arms instead. I feel bereft at the loss.
“I—” The words catch in my mouth. “I wish we’d had more time.”
After this, the odds we’ll ever see each other again are so low that there would be no point in trying to calculate them. No point in hoping we’ll one day bump into each other. I spend most of my time on a ship, with only brief layovers in-between. I don’t know how to do anything else.
The time we spent entangled has turned me inside out. It’s ridiculous; it’s undeniable.
“I do, too. Our lives are better for knowing you, Tanisira. Thank you for everything you did.”
Vee peers at me with those liquid green eyes. “You won’t forget us, right?”
That nearly takes me to my knees. I dredge a smile up from somewhere. “Forget you? Never.”
His watery grin is worth every coal I dragged those words across.
“We already said goodbye to the crew, but.” Marlowe wipes at her cheeks. “Please thank them again for us. We’re so indebted to you all.”
I don’t understand why they won’t wait until we at least touch Martian soil. I want to grasp for any additional minutes with them I can get, but Marlowe seems determined to go.
I wish we’d spoken last night. I wish we’d woken up in each other’s arms. I wish, I wish, I wish.
Then Eduard and Mae are flanking Marlowe, dressed to leave the ship.
“Let’s go,” Eduard says.
I glare at them, but Marlowe doesn’t look surprised. She’s resigned. Hooking the suitcase with one hand, she starts forward. I step into her path before I can question it, turning to Eduard.
“What’s the hurry?”
He looks at me dispassionately. It’s Mae who answers, her smirk fixed. “We’re escorting them to the compound, and Mr Gryphon is on a tight schedule.”
I seethe. “Escorting? Or herding?”
Marlowe exhales slowly. “Tanisira, don’t. It’s fine.”
“It is not,” I practically yell, desperately losing my grip on restraint. “Gryphon doesn’t own you.”
She grimaces, and it physically hurts. None of it matters; Marlowe skirts me, pausing only a moment to show me the plea in her eyes.
And all I can do is step aside and let it go.
Let her go.
As soon as Marlowe and Vee disembark the ship, the team head for the pub, but I can’t stand the idea of having to function around other people.
With no communication from Gryphon, there’s nothing for the crew to do but enjoy what might be their last night on the job.
I could go with them for a night of drinking, but I promised myself I’d never follow in my Bava’s footsteps.
Sometimes I would love nothing more than to drown my sorrows—with memories of his worst days buried in my head, I can never let myself.
I search out my new ship instead. With the name, I can crosscheck the many screens around Red Horizon, detailing which vessels occupy the bays. I find the Homebound on the other side of the station. Liz wasn’t joking when she said she’d find me a piece of junk.
The ship has seen its fair share of years and is worn, battered, and unassuming.
But it’s also sleek and small, which means fast—as long as it doesn’t need too much work.
It’s a faded cedar colour with accents of rusted copper.
Despite myself, I smile a little. It’s not how I pictured my first ship, nor how I imagined I’d acquire it, but it’s mine.
I thought I’d never get to this point. I’m also relieved that Liz—who is almost a stranger—didn’t run off with my life savings, diminished as they were by the meds I got from Ryker.
It’s a bittersweet moment.
As I’m circling the ship, noting repairs I’ll need to make, the cargo bay opens. A figure stands at the top of the ramp, wearing a crisp shirt tucked into a black corset, complete with matching satin tie, walnut shoulder harness and dark trousers.
“Ms Tharzal?”
I lift a hand in acknowledgement. “Linashae, please.”
One of my burner identities from my time on the Raat-Sarpa. I’d always felt guilty about keeping them in case of an emergency, but I’m glad I did.
They incline their head, blonde hair falling into their eyes. “I’m Nero; I brokered the sale of the Homebound. I have to say, it’s the fastest turnaround I’ve ever been expected to make.” Their lips curl into a well-practised grin. “Shall I show you around?”
“Nah.” I fake a smile, slipping into the personality I’d crafted for Linashae. “I’m on a tight schedule. Just tell me what I need to know and send the rest to me.”
They raise their eyebrows but don’t complain.
Within the hour, Nero departs, and I’m left to explore my new ship.
It smells like rust and mould, and it’s going to need a thorough clean, but it’s a step in the right direction.
I look at the outdated interior of the bay, and I feel something settle in me.
I don’t get much time to ponder it, though, because suddenly a loud noise reverberates through the air.
Banging. Someone’s banging on my fucking ship.
I open up, preparing myself for an argument.
It might be crappy, but the Homebound is mine now, and I won’t have anyone putting more dents in her.
But the words die on my lips when I see Devyaan, Khrys, and Beau standing on the other side.
They look furious.
“You are such a bitch,” Khrys snipes.
Beau laughs, deep and from the belly. “She’s had a few drinks, but she’s also not wrong.”
The galley is nowhere near as modern as they’re used to, but it’s big enough for all of us; the crew plus Maximus and Julian, who’d been waiting out of sight to board.
I hadn’t realised just how much busier Red Horizon is in comparison to normal.
With the station this active, the brothers can’t afford to be spotted by anyone.
We naturally gravitated towards the galley. It has a homey interior, and food prep will be hit and miss at first, but everything works.
I let my head thunk down on the surface of the dining table; an old, scratched but sturdy thing. The crew had convinced Julian to follow me from the Midas. Now here I sit before a veritable firing squad.
“I knew you were up to something. Didn’t I say, Beau? Didn’t I say the captain was up to something? A whole ship!”
Devyaan hands the redhead a steaming mug of coffee made from the dregs of an ancient can in the cupboard. She glares at him but downs half of it in one go. Her wince says all we need to know about how old the beans are.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Devyaan asks.