13. Off the Rails
Off the Rails
“You may undo your harness, Nicole.”
The trip had been nearly silent so far. He’d been busy monitoring the shuttle, and Nicole, in turn, had swung between looking positively delighted and completely terrified.
He wished she wasn’t terrified of him. She might have initiated the contact before they launched, but she had recoiled every time he reached for her before that.
“Am I free to move about the cabin?” She flashed a grin.
Another joke he had no reference for. It was her habit when she was unsure.
Krir didn’t mind—it made her feel better and gave him insight into her culture.
Humans and Qilffirans seemed to find similar things funny.
From all the stories he’d heard passed around the Geological Agency, the Giuk found nothing funny.
“Yes, that is an acceptable activity.”
She released her harness and stood. Her hands clenched at her sides as she regarded him, as if she was fighting the urge to touch him.
Krir quickly returned his attention to the controls.
His heart ached that she still didn’t see him under this skin.
Not fully. She still saw a Giuk. He didn’t blame her, but it still hurt.
Nicole paced the cockpit, which was a few steps across. On her fifth round, he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“The whole vessel has gravity. Why don’t you go burn off some energy by finding food? We’ll need to keep up our strength.”
There were other, more intimate ways he’d prefer to burn off energy, but that would wait until this mission was complete and he was comfortably in his own skin again.
Nicole’s lips twitched as though she had a barbed comment dying to escape, but she merely ducked through the hatch. It closed quietly behind her, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He still couldn’t believe he’d proposed they go after the humans themselves.
He wasn’t a warrior, neither was she. But the Qilffiran government strictly adhered to the rules.
If Krir waited for the proper authorities to act, the humans would have vanished or died.
Or both. They needed a solid plan, and he was a good planner.
Nicole seemed to be, too. Perhaps that, along with subterfuge and surprise, would be enough.
Moments later, Nicole returned, carrying two bowls filled with something steaming. Krir inhaled deeply and wished he hadn’t.
“Yeah, big mistake, my fine feathered friend. This…gruel doesn’t smell so great. And I hate to break it to you, it tastes worse.”
She passed him a bowl and spoon with a wry grin and sat in the other chair. She ate quickly, and Krir followed her lead, trying not to smell or taste anything.
“This is what you lived on?” He dragged his spoon through the sludge left on the bottom of the bowl.
“Yep.” She shoved the last spoonful into her mouth and swallowed.
He was amazed she hadn’t made faces while eating.
“I wish I could say you get used to it, but you don’t.
If there is anything else to eat on this shuttle, they hid it.
Calories are more important than taste, and with any luck, this is the last time I ever have to eat it. ”
Krir took the bowl from her, stacked it with his, and placed it on the floor next to a splotch of pink blood, a reminder of what he’d done here. What they’d had to do to survive. But with any luck, they could keep future casualties to a minimum. Or better yet, none. None would be perfect.
“How do you want to handle this?” he asked.
“It’s us against a ship full of Giuk. You must be good to survive against the commander, but no one is good enough to take on that many Giuk. And I’m mostly useless in a fight.”
He preened a little. He was good—besides his martial arts training, the Geological Agency instructed all off-world scientists in weaponry before their first assignments, just in case.
His teachers had likely planned on large predators, not sentients, but perhaps there was less difference between the two when it came down to it.
“We have surprise on our side, and my flawless disguise.”
She grimaced. He hoped someday she could meet a Giuk who wasn’t an enslaver. Good people existed everywhere, and they weren’t aware of the full story yet behind this ship.
“Hey, no, don’t look sad!” Nicole took his hand. “I’m sorry about the face, I—”
“I understand, Nicole. This is not the face you want to see. I don’t like it much either. I promise I’ll change back once this is over.” He pulled the genetic modifier out of his pocket and showed it to her.
She placed a finger over his lips. “The face wasn’t about you. Yeah, this isn’t my favorite look on you, but it’s you in there. I know that.”
Nicole leaned close, and he breathed her in. The hint of fear was still there, but so was something else, something that smelled an awful lot like desire. She could desire him, even in this form from a people who had abused her?
She kissed his cheek. “I’d know you anywhere, Krir.”
Words left his brain. Every last one. He couldn’t put together a single thought even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. All he wanted was her, the way he’d had her yesterday. The way he’d had her ever since the escape pod had landed.
He caught her lips with his in a gentle kiss, demanding nothing, giving everything.
She relaxed into him, but he broke it off before desire overtook common sense. She sighed and sat back.
“I’m sorry.” He needed to learn how to control his feelings for her before he scared her off.
“I’m not. You’re a good kisser no matter what skin you’re in. But we can’t afford the distraction.” Nicole touched her lips, which quirked up at the corners. He wanted to keep that look of awe on her face for the rest of her life.
She was right. No distractions. They had a dangerous job to do.
He idly scanned the control panel and tapped a few buttons. A heads-up display showed all systems were working as expected.
“What can you tell me about your experiences on the ship?”
She’d been reluctant to share more after their initial conversation, and he’d been more reluctant to press her, believing time, quiet, and safety would do more to allow her to heal.
“We worked in shifts. About half of us worked while the other half ate and slept. Then we’d switch. We were kept in two large rooms, one for each shift. Down the hall from each other—we’d pass at shift change.”
“Did the guards have any special equipment or weapons?”
She shook her head. That meant no. She confirmed it a moment later.
“No, just clubs. They’d beat us into submission, even though most of us were too exhausted to fight. They barely gave us enough gruel to be able to work, and we slept on the hard floor, no pillows, no blankets.”
“Were your…” Blessed ancestors, were they pens? Cells? “Were your quarters on the same level as your work areas?”
“Mostly, yes. A few sometimes got assigned elsewhere, but I never did.”
“How often?”
“Once every five shifts or so.”
That might make this harder. If everyone wasn’t on the same floor, they’d have to search for stragglers. And it seemed there wasn’t a pattern he could extrapolate from.
“So if I were to act as the commander and take you to the hold, we might easily free the humans off shift, but we’d also have to rescue the ones working.”
“They won’t be left to their own devices, either. Probably guarded extra closely after the failed uprising and my escape.” She frowned.
“It’s not your fault. You were merely trying to survive.”
“That’s between me and my therapist, thank you very much. Right now, we need a plan.”
Therapist? Was that a god, or a type of priest?
“If we free most of the humans and incapacitate enough of the Giuk, do you think they would help take over the ship so I can pilot us to Vrul 4 and meet the Agency extraction team?”
“At what point do we expect the plan to go off the rails?” She smiled wryly.
“What in the names of your ancestors is off the rails?”
“You know, when everything goes to shit and you have to throw away the plan and improvise.”
Oh, yes, a common occurrence in a fight. Off the rails. He liked it.
“Perhaps as soon as we step foot onto the Yindir. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to free some humans before this goes off the rails.”
She bit her lip, but her eyes shone with amusement.
“Okay, we have our plan. It might even be more than sixteen percent of one, so excellent start.” Nicole yawned and hugged her arms around herself.
“You need rest,” Krir said.
“So do you,” she snapped back.
“The autopilot can fly the shuttle for a while, alert us when we’re close. We are much less likely to make simple mistakes if we have rested.”
“I hate it when you make sense.”
“You do not.” Krir leaned over and tapped some controls on her chair’s arm. It flattened, and she stretched out on her side, using her hands under her head as a pillow.
“I do not. Sleep sounds like a perfect plan, far better than the shitshow we’re about to kick off.”
He tapped the same controls on his chair and lay facing her. “See, we are winning already. This plan is one hundred percent.”
“Fuckin’ A.”