Chapter 6 Dax
Dax
It took effort to tear my gaze from the stars outside the ship. In the space corps, my squad all talked a big game about making our own choices, but now, faced with nearly as many options as there were stars, I worried if I was making the right one.
My most immediate need was information. I shifted forward in my seat and grabbed the tool bag from where it rested on the command console. It barely missed the open noodle container as it slid toward me. I frowned.
New rule. No food on the bridge, no matter how delicious it smelled. There was too much delicate—and expensive!—equipment up here to risk an accident. I placed the bag on my lap while I closed up the noodles and tucked them on the floor under the console.
That problem taken care of for the moment, I rifled through the woman’s tool bag.
The front pocket held an ident card, a few credit chips, and a fuzzy mint.
I grimaced and dropped that back into the bag.
Fingers on the edge of the ident card, I studied it, turning it this way and that to catch the holographic features.
The picture matched the woman in front of me, although she didn’t look nearly as disheveled in the photo. “What the hell are you doing on my ship, Lacy Dupree?”
She didn’t answer, but her head tilted toward me. Had she recognized her name?
The credits and card rejoined the mint in the front pocket. Opening the main compartment, I pulled out tools. Like the bag itself, the tools were clearly used, but well taken care of.
Lacy Dupree’s mechanic rating was on her ident card, so I assumed they belonged to her. But why was a mechanic and her tools on my ship at all? I hadn’t requested any repairs for the Fortuna.
Sealing the tool bag up, I placed it on the floor next to the noodles, then swiveled to face the captain’s chair.
Her coveralls bore the grease stains and dirt that I would expect from someone who worked on engines and other repairs. Now that I was looking closely, I noted rips and tears that weren’t what I would expect from a competent mechanic.
In fact, it looked like she’d gotten into a fight.
A glance around the bridge confirmed that there were no signs of a struggle here. Whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t been on the Fortuna.
Hoping I wasn’t making a mistake, I reached over and shook her left shoulder.
She whimpered and curled away from me.
Dammit. As frustrated as I was, I didn’t want to hurt her. “Hey, wake up!”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What? Where am I?” She put her forearms on the arms of the seat and leveraged to a more upright position. Her lips pinched and she bit back another whimper.
Her eyes—a deep green a man could get lost in—were hazy with exhaustion.
Focus, Dax. This wasn’t the time to be noticing shit like that.
“You’re on the Fortuna,” I replied. “And I’d really like to know why.”
I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest, seeking a balance between intimidating the crap out of her and letting her walk all over me.
“I needed a place to hide.”
Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them. “And you chose my ship?”
She nodded, her gaze holding mine.
“Why? And how?” The ship had been locked down tight. Hadn’t it?
“Some guys broke into my apartment. They chased me and I ran.” Her voice wavered.
A protective instinct that was wildly unexpected—and completely inappropriate given the situation—flared up. I tamped it down violently. This conversation was about my ship, not her private life.
“What did they want?” Dammit. That was not what I’d intended to ask.
“I don’t know.” Lacy wrapped her arms around her middle. “They said something about a map, but I have no idea what they were talking about. One minute I’m about to eat dinner . . .” She glanced around, her brow furrowing.
I pointed to the container of noodles on the floor.
She nodded. “I was about to eat dinner and the next thing I knew, two thugs knocked on my door. They pushed their way in, using my neighbor as a shield. So I ran, looking for a place to hide.” She shivered.
An attack shed new light on her ripped clothing, but her story was missing some pieces. That didn’t stop me from asking, “How did you get away?” My voice was low and growly.
“I threw knives at them, then jumped out the window.”
She said the words so matter-of-factly, I waited a few beats for the punchline.
When she remained silent, my jaw dropped. Holy shit, she was serious.
“You what? Are you hurt?”
What was I saying? Of course she was hurt—she’d jumped out of a fucking window. She was virtually passed out when I entered the bridge—completely unaware of her surroundings—and had flinched when I touched her shoulder.
She was either brave or stupid. Maybe both. And now she was my problem. “All right, Lacy, let’s go.”
“How do you know my name?” Something like fear flared in her eyes before she shoved it down and raised her chin.
People often feared me, rightfully so. The space corps had spent serious money and time breaking me down and building me back up, creating a dangerous soldier. But seeing fear in her eyes when she looked at me? Unacceptable.
I gestured toward her bag. “It’s on your ident card. ‘Lacy Dupree. Mechanic.’”
Some of the tension in her shoulders eased, but not enough. I wished Mercer, the team’s medic, was here. His bedside manner was miles better than mine. But he was off dealing with family stuff. He was one of the later rendezvous scheduled after we picked up the cargo.
At least, that had been the plan.
Sparing another glance at the stars that weren’t supposed to be surrounding my ship, I knew that I had to ensure she was healthy before I could get answers from her.
I stood. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Lacy tensed and stared up at me. “Go where?”
“Med bay.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t need it.”
“It wasn’t a request. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Damn, never thought I’d see the day when Mercer’s words came out of my mouth. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave her my best basic-training glower. She didn’t even flinch.
She glared right back. “I’m fine,” she insisted.
Maybe I would have believed her if she hadn’t winced when she sat straighter. Or if she hadn’t told me that she’d jumped out of a window. But right now? Nope, I wasn’t buying it.
“Fine, we’ll do it the hard way.” Mercer had dragged my ass to med bay on more than one occasion when I’d insisted that I was fine. So that’s what we were going to do.
I bent over the chair, slipped my hands under her thighs, and picked her up.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked and grabbed my shoulders.
“I told you, taking you to med bay.” She’d been favoring her left side, so I carried her so her right side rested against my chest. Her weight was somehow comforting. Her braid draped over my arm and was as soft as it had looked.
Dammit, Dax. Not the time for noticing things like that.
“What about my bag?”
“The one with all the tools?” I shook my head. “It’s staying here.”
“But I need it.”
“You don’t need it for a checkup. Unless you’re a cyborg and we need to unscrew you?”
She scowled at me like a fierce kitten. A feral one, with her mussed hair and dirty clothes and sharp claws. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. The image made me want to keep her.
“I told you, I’m fine.” She pushed against my chest and winced.
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
“Then this will be a quick trip.”
Her lips thinned and stubbornness radiated from her, but she didn’t argue further.