Chapter 14 #2
She blinked slowly at the console. The green trajectory line stretched out toward her home sector, a bright, safe path away from the Summer League. Away from the R’Tevs and their assassins. Away from Raaze.
Then, between one heartbeat and the next, she saw it.
Her whole damn life, she’d stayed. Every time her father looked down his nose and called her weak, and every time Kian had done something to undermine her, she’d taken the hits.
She’d just dug down and tried harder. Hell, she’d taken the Parac’Norr job, a suicide run no one else in the company would touch, just to prove that she could.
She was the one who didn’t quit. The little sister who took every punch and kept showing up for the next round, even if she got knocked down again. That was her entire identity.
Until today.
The first time something genuinely broke her, the first time someone got close enough to actually hurt her…
She’d run.
Raaze had looked her in the eye and admitted she was just a convenient mark. Instead of fighting it, instead of getting up in his face and calling him an asshole and a bastard, she’d thrown him out the airlock and run.
Her throat tightened, a sharp, physical squeeze that made her swallow hard.
That wasn’t who she was. That had never been who she was.
“You are deviating from optimal oxygen intake,” Fred commented in a low voice. “Your respiration rate is disordered.”
She didn’t answer.
“Cait?”
She didn’t answer, just kept looking at the distance ticking down to home base.
“Your silence is becoming concerning. Should I run a diagnostic on the life support systems?”
“The contract was mine,” she said finally. Her voice sounded strange. Distant.
“Yes?”
“The route was mine. The repairs were mine. The work was mine from the first signature to the last bolt I tightened on that landing strut.”
“Also yes.” Fred’s tone didn’t change. “I’m not sure what point you’re making, but I’m confident you’ll get there eventually.”
“I’m flying away from a job I built with my own hands.”
There was a pause. A pause that was a lot longer than Fred’s usual processing delays.
“Well, technically the delivery contract is complete. The cargo was logged at Parac’Norr. Payment will process upon—”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know what you mean. I’m choosing to pretend I don’t because the alternative involves discussing… feelings.”
She almost smiled.
“The plan was mine,” she said. “The whole thing. The infiltration, the data extraction, the blackmail approach. I built it.”
“You did. Did you expect a thank you from that asshole playboy alien or something? I brought you up smarter than that?”
She shook her head. “Not what I meant. I meant that I’m running away from my plan because I let an asshole playboy alien hurt my feelings.”
“Not the way I would have put it. Walking away from him was the smartest move you’ve made in days. In my humble opinion, of course.”
She did snort at that. “Fred, you are many things, but no one could accuse you of being humble.”
Leaning forward in the chair, she pulled up the nav console, and the display flickered to life under her fingers.
“Plot a new course.”
“Of course, where are we going?”
“Back to Nethlaar.” The word came out steadier than she expected. “Back to the Summer League stadium.”
The silence stretched for three seconds… four.
“May I ask why? Or did you take a blow to the head at some point that I was unaware of?”
“That fucking plan was mine. The work was mine.” She entered the coordinates manually when Fred didn’t, her fingers moving across the console with the ease of long practice. “And I’ll be fucking damned if I’m going to let an asshole playboy alien take credit for my work.”
“And what about him? Why would you do this? Is he worth all this?”
Her hands paused over the console, just for a moment.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “That’s a question for when I get there.”
Fred sighed. “New ETA adjusted. Fuel margins will be tighter. You good with that?”
“Tighter works.”
The ship settled into the new vector, and the stars realigned on the viewscreen.
“Set automated alerts for the approach,” she ordered, her voice steadier now. “And pull up the stadium schematics again. I want to review the private box layouts.”
“Already queued.” He paused, as though he were choosing his words with mechanical care. “For what it’s worth, you didn’t run. You regrouped. There’s a difference.”
Her lips quirked. Almost a smile. The first one since she’d shoved Raaze out the airlock. “Save the pep talks for when I need them, old man.”
“Of course,” his tone shifted to that dry humor she loved. “Though if we’re heading back into that hornet’s nest, you might want to consider actually sleeping before we get there. Your vitals look like you’ve been mainlining engine coolant.”
She snorted as she opened the schematics. Raaze might still be an asshole. The R’Tevs might still try to kill them both. And her father would definitely call this ‘insufficient’.
But she didn’t care. Not anymore. This was her choice now, and god help anyone who tried to take that choice from her.