Chapter 39
The orange-red glowlit up the screens of the Harlan Johnson. The beauty of the explosive fire against the frozen landscape took Varik’s breath. A moment later the boom reverberated through his chair on the deck. He craned his neck to peer down the darkened hallway. Jarn should be bursting in any second. Should already be here. Varik’s chest tightened. “Karnek, where’s Jarn.”
“Unknown, Captain.”
Fuck. The smoke and kicked up ice settled, and The Treasure appeared on-screen.
No.
It should be a rubbled mess. Where was the gaping hole? Where were the fire suppression units coming to douse the fuel rods in foam before they blew too? Where was Jarn?
Movement drew Varik’s attention from his perfectly intact ship. Kolben personnel. “Karnek, launch.”
“Uh, Captain?”
Varik darted to Jarn’s seat. The navigation had already been programmed in. “Tell everyone to brace for launch.”
Karnek made the announcement. Varik clicked the harness in place, the one that should have wrapped his lover in safety. But if his lover had failed, it was likely he was dead. Jarn would want him to escape. Varik keyed in the launch sequence and braced. The Harlan Johnson shot into the air.
As soon as they cleared the atmosphere, he checked their fuel readings. No way they could make it to Cassan. Arbotriz would be a stretch. Would the Kolben authorities come after them? Varik hadn’t seen a bunch of ships on the pad ready to launch. There had been a few small response ships in the storage units he’d sniffed around. Nothing that would allow them to chase the Johnson. But their comms could cross distances. Varik racked his brain for a solution.
“Captain?” Karnek’s inquiry gave Varik the kick he needed.
“Find an off books fuel depot. Darknet.”
“Aye?”
“Now. Closest one.” There was no point in not accepting the reality of his position. Even if he wasn’t being held responsible for the bomb yet, he would be. And he had a stolen ship, and was flying without an authorized flight plan or authorization to leave the planet. All of which were punishable offenses. He was officially a criminal. Accepting that fact opened doors, closed some too, but since Cyra still had his ship and The Treasure was still operational, Varik still had work to do.
And she had another debt to pay. Jarn. An aching hole opened in Varik’s chest. He’d lost Jarn. And it was all Cyra’s fault. There was no way the bomb should have failed. How had it exploded and killed his lover? Varik might never figure that out, but he knew to his bones it was Cyra’s fault. She might as well have slashed a knife along Jarn’s throat. Varik would get revenge for him. No matter how long it took. And instead of settling for destroying The Treasure as he’d been willing to do, the loss of Jarn meant war. Not only would he take back The Treasure, he would destroy Cyra and everyone else who dared to help her take what was his.
“I found something, Captain.” Karnek pointed at his screen.
Varik rose from Jarn’s chair.
“A Darknet posting for a three eff.”
“A what?”
“A fuel, fix, and fuck station.”
Varik peered at the posting on Karnek’s screen. He quickly calculated the fuel they had and the distance to the anti-authority space station. “Perfect. Send the coordinates to the nav station.”
He plugged in the data to the navigation and authorized the route twice. The computer didn’t recognize the location in space as a valid destination. But Varik was no longer playing by the rules. Technically, he never had. He had no illusion that the crew would keep their stop on the dirty station a secret. With this move, he would never be able to pass as legitimate again, and he didn’t fucking care.