Well, that went well.
16
Lacy
Too agitatedto go back to my room, I stomped around the ship.I couldn’t believe he’d just refused to help.A woman was missing.It wasn’t like he didn’t know where all his crew was.What was one little detour?
My steps carried me past med bay, past my room, and down the steps leading to the engine room.I was pissed enough that sabotaging the engine would serve him right—but I couldn’t do that.Wouldn’t do that.Fortunahadn’t done anything to me.She just had an ass for a captain.
Still, I was curious to see the engine room.It was one of my favorite places to be.Sure, you couldn’t see out into space, but it was the heart of the ship.The engine room got you from point A to point B and deserved all the love and respect for doing that.
While my annoyance at Dax didn’t fade as I neared the engine room, my pulse slowed and my tension eased as the sounds and smells of the ship’s heart worked their magic.The throaty purr—and occasional clank—of the engines.Oil and exhaust and that frisson of electricity that shouldn’t have a smell, but did if you were around long enough.
It smelled like home.
I’d missed this.Some nights on the station I would walk through the docks just to try and catch a whiff.
Reaching the upper deck of the engine room, I unlatched the door and stepped over the raised entry and onto the metal grating that ran between the engines at top-of-the-engine height.A second walkway ran parallel to this one, one floor down.Closing the door behind me, I tucked my hands in my pockets and closed my eyes.
At first I let the hum just wash over me.The longer I stood there, the more I could pick out the sounds the different engines made.Nothing sounded wrong.Dax hadn’t bought a lemon.Good for him, I guess.
Still, while I was here, I should take a look.
Dammit!I didn’t have my tools.Honestly, I wasn’t even sure where they were.Had Dax left them on the bridge?I hadn’t looked for them, that was how distracted I’d been by my sister’s message.
Had any tools been left on the ship?Had Dax even considered that he would need tools?Did he have a mechanic lined up already?
My eyes popped open.“That’s it!”
Dax was over his head and didn’t even know it.I had all sorts of useful skills that I could bargain for his help.
Feeling lighter than I had before—Mako’sengine room had always brought me clarity too—I practically skipped down to the lower level.
There was a small alcove behind Engine 1, which was where I liked to keep a set of tools.I followed the tiny walkway behind the engine and voila!
Tools were scattered haphazardly over the small workbench built into the wall and there was no tool chest to store them in.My lip curled.That wasn’t great.Improperly stored tools were a hazard in an engine room.A sudden change in gravity would turn any of them into a projectile.
I sighed and shook my head.There should be a little cubby beneath Engine 2 where I could store these until I could properly batten them down.
Gathering up the tools, I slipped them into pockets and tucked them into my belt.I grabbed the rags that had been left on the bench too.Those would come in handy as I inspected the engines.
The Cyclone class ships had four engines.While there were redundancies built into the system, and a ship could limp home on one engine, vessels likeMakoandFortunaperformed best when all four were in peak condition.I wanted to verify thatFortuna’s engines were up to the task.
Losing myself in the routine of engine maintenance, I didn’t have a great sense of how much time had passed.But based on the amount of work I’d done—tidying the workspaces and inspecting each engine—it had been several hours.
I’d poked around every nook and cranny of each engine, making small tweaks and bringing each part back to as close to pristine condition as I could.I was under Engine 4, taking one last look, when the light clang of boots and the vibrating metal grates warned me that I wasn’t alone.
Stilling my movements, I waited to see what he would do.
“You breaking my ship?”Dax sounded friendly enough, so I assumed it was a joke, rather than an accusation.
“The opposite, actually.”I tested the last few bolts, then wiped them with a cloth.Rolling the tools into a bundle in the grease rag, I slid out from underneath the engine.
He stepped back to give me room to maneuver.
From my vantage point on the ground, I had a view of his well-worn black military-issue boots.My gaze traveled up his long legs, clad in cargo pants, also black.A gray waffled henley hugged his chest and arms.A firm jaw, roughened with dark shadow, which was definitely not regulation.
Full lips, strong nose, and chocolate eyes that held a hint of amusement when I finally reached them.
