Chapter 18
ALETTA
By the time she and Gark had rushed to the cargo bay, Vox had guided The Lady into place, and Arik had the docking tunnel ready to connect. The big Taurean was manually guiding the tunnel to connect with the other ship’s airlock.
It looked like one of those old skill tester machines with the claw attachment, but four claws were moving at once, and the other ship was also moving. But Arik moved it into place with an ease that showed years of experience.
“Docking tunnel connected, boss,” Arik said, his deep voice booming in the small space of the airlock. “Just cycling the airlocks now.”
Aletta breathed a sigh of relief.
“Aletta?”
Her fingernails bit into her palms as she turned to face Gark. His lilac eyes were intense as he stooped to look at her. His lips were pressed into a thin line.
Somewhere in the last few minutes, he’d covered himself in weapons. His black shirt was rolled to the elbows, a vest strapped over the top with all manner of gear attached to it. All in that matte black metal that didn’t reflect light, so he’d be invisible in low light.
She’d already dressed in combat trousers and her sneakers—there were no spare boots in her size—the cuffs rolled up so she wouldn’t trip, and the waist cinched in with a belt.
Now he held out a vest for her, which she slipped on with a frown.
It was still too big, but it was much better than anything else she’d been able to scrounge up on this ship.
There were knives strapped to the vest, ones with hilts small enough for her hand.
She frowned as she traced a finger over the sheath of one, the intricate design on the leather far more beautiful than the sheaths any of the others wore.
She tightened the vest’s straps, fingers tracing over the hand-sewn seams.
He’d altered this vest for her.
She paused, staring at the neat row of stitches, running her thumb over them.
Something inside her cracked open.
How long had this taken him?
When had he decided she’d need such a thing?
She’d assumed he’d try to stop her from coming onto the transport, but he’d had to have started work on this as soon as they’d known they’d be chasing down the other ship.
He had planned for her to come along, even as he had cautioned her about the danger.
She knew he wanted her to stay on The Lady, where it was safer. She stared sightlessly at the stitches.
He knew her. He knew that she would find a way to go, so instead of preventing her, he’d found a way to keep her as safe as he could.
Oh, Gark.
The stitches blurred under her fingers.
Gark cleared his throat, and she blinked rapidly, making a show of tightening the straps as she’d seen the others do and adjusting the fit.
“We don’t have time for translation chips, so I need you to convince them to come with us.”
She nodded. There would be no time to waste. She didn’t want to think of the math of how many people they’d need to move per minute. “That’s assuming they speak English.”
Gark frowned, running a hand over his face. His eyes were a little bloodshot, the red startling against the lilac of his iris. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his usually well-groomed hair was standing up in spikes like he’d been running his hands through it.
“Do whatever you can.”
She nodded. “I’m not going to let the fuckers win.”
Gark barked out a laugh. His lips tilted up briefly. “I need to know you are safe.”
There was a universe of emotion in his eyes. Words unsaid, apologies left unspoken, declarations that might never be—
“Boss, we’re good to go.”
Gark pulled away with obvious reluctance, following Arik through the now-open airlock and down the short tunnel that connected the two ships.
Aletta followed closely, her breath creating clouds of steam in the cold air.
She bounced slightly in the reduced gravity and almost smacked into Gark’s back, only saving herself with a hand to the middle of his back.
He reached a hand back to hold her still, the protective gesture bringing a small smile to Aletta’s lips.
Get a grip, girl!
She squared her shoulders. The entry to the transport was nothing more than a reinforced doorway.
Arik attached a device with flashing lights to the door and then pressed a button.
Aletta winced at the metal-on-metal noise of a bolt being drawn back, then the door swung open, revealing the interior of the transport.
She blinked, trying to focus on the darkness inside, and strained around Gark.
“Keep back,” Gark warned, hand outstretched to prevent her from rushing forward.
They had agreed that he and Arik would go first to make sure it was safe to enter the ship, and then Jarden, Klath, and Aletta would follow.
Lara was waiting on The Lady, ready to help calm the survivors and make them feel more comfortable.
And Vox was waiting with his foot on the proverbial gas, ready to escape the moment they were back on The Lady.
She shifted with impatience, shaking her hands in frustration. Dylan was on this ship. The weeks of anxiously wondering if she was alive or dead were finally coming to a close.
Aletta wrapped her arms around herself, shifting from foot to foot. She knew another minute or two wouldn’t make much difference, but now that she was this close, it was unbearable.
But she knew Gark only wanted to keep her safe, so she waited as patiently as she could as she watched him.
He turned his head, profile standing out against the darkness of the transport.
His brows were drawn down in concentration, nostrils flaring as he gestured to Arik.
The two warriors stood on either side of the door, like she’d seen actors do in action movies, with their weapons held ready, and peered around the corner.
“There really is nobody here. I don’t like this.” His voice was low as he shared a look with Arik.
“Neither do I. But what can we do?” Arik shrugged. He readied his weapon, and the two warriors stepped through the airlock and into the transport.
Aletta trotted after them, almost running to keep up with their long steps.
“Keep behind me,” Gark ordered, and she didn’t disobey.
Jarden and Klath headed to the bridge, while she and Gark searched the ship for the humans. For Dylan.
The corridors were dark and dingy, like they hadn’t been cleaned in decades. Something dripped down the curved wall, Aletta stepping to one side to avoid the acrid-smelling neon liquid where it pooled on the floor.
The transport wasn’t a large ship. Vox had explained it was for intra-system transport and short-range supply runs, not for use in deep space, so it was barely more than basic crew quarters and a cargo hold.
The whole transport usually had a crew of three, and the cargo hold could be reconfigured to transport livestock.
The closer they got to the cargo hold, the worse the conditions were, as if nobody had cared what happened down here. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of garbage and decades-old gunge.
They rounded a corner, Gark stopping in front of a door that looked like any other. He pointed to the faded sign next to it. Aletta couldn’t read the script, so Gark did for her.
“Cargo hold one,” he said.
Then pushed a button next to the door. Aletta winced, covering her ears with her hands as a loud squeal like a microphone near an amplifier filled the air.
“Fuck!”
She was so relieved when the noise stopped that she didn’t pay attention to the audio playing until she saw Gark’s expression of fury.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
He shook his head and slapped his palm against the wall, chest heaving. It was then that she heard the audio coming from the speakers on either side of the door.
A male voice laughed. “Gark. A’Kar told us all about you. Ever the honorable warrior, no matter the cost.”
Aletta frowned. What was this?
The voice continued. “But we know the truth, don’t we?”
Gark slammed his hand against the wall again, sweat glistening on his brow despite the chill in the air.
“Nice of you to come save the few I’ve left. Plenty more where they came from. Guess you’ll never know exactly how many there are, will you?” The voice dropped. “You think you’ve won? Think again. No amount of self-sacrifice will ever make you the equal of a true Taurean warrior.”
Aletta moved to Gark, whose head was drooping between his shoulders.
“Gark. Talk to me.”
He shook his head.
“No half-breed will ever be the equal of me. Enjoy your death.”
Aletta’s eyes were as wide as saucers as another voice, this one the robotic female voice of the ship’s AI, sounded.
“Twelve minutes to impact.”
What?