Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The terror Aiden usually felt from the impending ejection into deep space was wrestled into submission by the more pressing need to flee from certain death. He jammed the helmet on his head and made a cursory examination of his suit. Evelyn was leaning against the wall, watching him.
“You alright, dollface?”
Evelyn nodded, giving him a weak smile. “Amplifying takes a lot out of me when I go so hard so fast. I’m fine, though. Just a little tired.”
“Okay,” he said, stepping toward her to double-check her suit was securely sealed. “We’re going to be in deep space for maybe ten seconds and then we’ll be on my jump ship. I’m going to give us a little push, just hold on to my hand.”
“Oh, yes, hold her hand. Very smooth, Aiden. Like you don’t have a carabiner available to clip your suits together,” Cairn said, his laughter echoing in Aiden’s ear piece.
Aiden turned the volume down again. Normally he welcomed Cairn’s commentary while he was in the liminal space between vessels, but he had more pleasant distractions closer at hand. “I’ll ready the ship.”
Evelyn’s head bobbed up and down. The bulbous helmet exaggerated her natural movements, and she reminded Aiden of the bobblehead hula dancer Cairn had strapped to the helm of the Rising Dawn.
“I love this part,” she said, grabbing Aiden’s hand. Even through the fabric of their space suits, Aiden was convinced he could feel the warmth of her skin. He gripped her hand back firmly, giving it a little squeeze.
“It takes all kinds,” he muttered, then hit the button for the airlock.
The chamber depressurized, and they were sucked out into the cold expanse of space.
Aiden gave a gentle push against the medivessel with his telekinesis and was surprised when they rocketed off toward the jump ship.
He thought he heard an exuberant “Wheee!” from Evelyn.
He hurriedly put a little pressure on the jump ship so they didn’t crash into the hull. Evelyn’s magnifying powers packed a hell of a punch. He was going to have to recalibrate his usual tricks if he ever got to experience her power again.
The homing identification chip in the suit Aiden was wearing triggered the door of the airlock to open.
Once they were inside, the door slid closed behind them, the ship’s computer warning them not to take their helmets off before the de-pressurization process was complete.
UV lights flared to life, exposing their suits to bacteria-killing wavelengths.
After a few minutes, the lights dimmed, and the electronic voice told them it was safe to remove their helmets.
“Wait, so you really don’t like being in space?” Evelyn asked. Her helmet dangled from one hand, the other fluffing her golden hair out.
“Super weird phobia for a pirate, am I right?” Cairn’s voice boomed over the speakers, and Aiden sighed in resignation.
It was bad enough having Cairn’s voice in his ear, teasing him while he was trying to concentrate on getting them off the medivessel alive and well.
Now he’d have to deal with it where everyone could hear.
Aiden knew Cairn would have no compunction with embarrassing him should the opportunity arise.
Like making little niggling phobia comments.
“Back to base, kid?” Cairn asked.
Aiden ripped the helmet off his head and removed his glasses. He shoved a hand through his hair and took a deep breath of the ship’s recycled air. It may not be terra firma, but Aiden was more confident in the jump ship’s airlock than the protection the flimsy suit offered.
“It’s not a phobia. I just don’t especially like knowing I’m a pinprick away from asphyxiation.
Who knows how sturdy any of this material really is anyway?
” He gestured to the passage that led to the main chamber.
“Let’s head to the bridge,” Aiden said. “You can meet my obnoxious pilot.” He held the door open for Evelyn and lamented the fact that the spacesuit obstructed the view of her luscious, pajama clad ass.
It’s probably unprofessional to ogle the woman you just rescued. Tacky at the very least.
They traipsed down the short hallway in silence and emerged into the oblong room Cairn piloted the jump ship from. The room was decorated in various shades of gray, dark carpet and lighter upholstery on the captain’s chairs. It was ringed with seats, safety harnesses all clicked into position.
Cairn sat behind the helm. He swiveled in his chair as they emerged out of the passageway.
Aiden was sure he had only just closed the view screen that had shown the glasses’ transmission.
His hands were tucked behind his head, his thumbs idly working through his short red hair.
He was failing spectacularly at the show of innocence he was going for.
It was the sparkle in his blue eyes that really killed it.
“Let’s get back to the Rising Dawn. Evelyn, Cairn.” Aiden waved a hand between the two of them in introduction. “Cairn, Evelyn. Cairn is my pilot and has a pathological obsession with pineapple candy. Evelyn is a woman who’s been imprisoned in a medivessel for a hundred years. Let’s go.”
“Well, you sure are the most interesting score we’ve had in years,” Cairn said.
He swiveled in his chair, punching buttons and pushing levers and making a very impressive show out of getting the jump ship started back on the short journey to the Rising Dawn.
Aiden knew he could have just pressed the “Return to Base” button on the control panel.
Stupid ginger show off.
“Happy to be of service. So, space pirates? What’s that like?” Evelyn asked. She wandered over to the candy bowl and popped her hand in.
Cairn grinned. “It’s a living.”
“We’re not pirates. We’re acquisitions and relocation specialists.” Try as he might, he couldn’t get the rest of the crew to commit to the more legitimate sounding job title.
They both laughed at him. Aiden sighed. He strapped himself into a passenger seat and zoned out as the two of them chatted idly about the merits of pineapple candy — both were pro — and auto pilot software — neither were sold.
For the first time since he’d tripped over his own momentum and wound up with his lips locked on Evelyn’s, Aiden found himself relaxing, and he took the opportunity to study her.
The spacesuit covered her lush frame, lumpy and bulging out in odd spots thanks to the robe hastily jammed inside.
Her hazel eyes were alight with excitement, and she crinkled her nose in an absurdly adorable manner when she found something Cairn suggested distasteful.
She had a tendency to bite the right half of her lower lip when she was considering something, a habit Aiden found distracting as hell.
He was impressed with her quick thinking, too.
They wouldn’t have escaped the ship without her lightning-fast plan to deal with the droids.
Smart. Beautiful. Funny. She was the most appealing woman Aiden had encountered in years, which was going to be a problem considering she was technically cargo.
Trouble.
Aiden was a list man. There was something magical about the way that a juggernaut of a problem could become manageable when taken out of the anxiety spiral in his mind and put down on paper.
He wished he had a whiteboard on the jump ship, but a mental list was going to have to do while they headed back.
He drew wrappers to his side from the pile in front of Cairn and absently wheeled them in the air as he tried to figure out just what Vinnie wanted with a human woman.
Was Evelyn to be a hostage for ransom? A political pawn? If so, why take this route?
And what the hell was Aiden and his crew going to do about the position they were in now?
They had been counting on a big score to get them out of their various troubles.
He knew that handing Evelyn over to be used as a ransomed hostage was out of the question for him, and for the entire crew of the Dawn.
If this was an actual kidnapping and not a rescue mission, their payday just went up in smoke.
Aiden didn’t traffic humans. Would he cheerfully smuggle a litter of kittens to Taurus Nine?
Absolutely. They got to go be pampered in the houses of socialites whose parents couldn’t be bothered to fill out paperwork and wait for quarantine periods to be over, and the crew got paid.
Blasters to revolutionaries on planets not inducted into the Galactic Planetary Collective?
Not a problem, and good luck with your uprising.
But they all drew the line at human beings, and Vinnie knew that. As annoyed as he was at her for throwing him into this position completely unprepared, Aiden also knew that Vinnie respected his lines.
He wouldn’t sell someone for money. He wasn’t that desperate to get off the Dawn.
Vinnie wouldn’t waste her credits on a mission he would refuse to fulfill.
That left political motivations.
Aiden didn’t know a whole lot about Vinnie other than she paid her bills on time and always came through with her end of a bargain.
They didn’t even know what planet she was from.
Vinnie had popped up in the criminal underworld seemingly out of nowhere about fifteen years ago.
No one had a bad thing to say about her.
She kept her mouth shut and didn’t welch.
She delivered. Until now, it had been good enough for Aiden.
He zoned back in on the conversation happening around him.
Plenty of time to deal with this crisis on board.
The Rising Dawn came into view, a gleaming jewel hovering straight ahead of the jump ship.
The name was painted on the side of the sleek silver ship in bright red script.
“Premium Galactic Frivolity Vessel For Hire. You Buy, We Fly!” was printed in smaller lettering underneath the name of the ship, along with contact information for booking purposes.
“Is that. . . is that a party vessel?” Evelyn asked. She squinted. “You’re spiriting me away in a party vessel?”
“Brilliant cover, right?” Cairn said, nudging her with his shoulder.
“You can pretty much go anywhere when you’re shuttling rich idiots around for money,” Aiden said. “No one asks too many questions, especially if you act like denying the client is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”
Evelyn tilted her head, considering. Her bottom lip disappeared beneath her teeth for a moment.
“You both lead much more interesting lives than I do.”