“Hang on,” he murmured. “These small ships make a lot of noise on takeoff and landing, but things will be smooth once we get in the air.”
Jenna gave a jerky nod. Nonetheless, her pinched expression didn’t ease. “I’ll be all right,” she ground out.
The freighter shuddered then, lifting off the landing pad. Peering forward, Malik watched the lights of the spaceport recede as the ship gained height. His stomach then dropped as the ship turned and accelerated up out of the moon’s atmosphere.
Merciful Syr, it was a blessed relief when they’d finally made the jump into hyperspace.
Jenna sat there, heart pounding, belly roiling, and cold sweat bathing her skin. And when the freighter lurched forward, bile stung the back of her throat.
She swallowed it down, focusing instead on Cathal, Isla, and Bea—the reasons she was sitting in this cargo ship. The reasons she’d hired a questionable individual and his even more dubious sidekick to help rescue her family.
Vic concerned her—after all, he hadn’t told them he worked with a battle-droid—but at least he was confident he could get them through the blockade.
She hoped it wasn’t just bravado, although they’d find out soon enough.
A moment later, the vibrations beneath her feet changed to a deep purr, and the sickly waves of nausea receded.
Exhausted, she sank back against her seat. After a few moments, she cast Malik a sidelong glance.
He was observing her. His violet eyes drew her in, and his mouth lifted at the corners in a half-smile that made warmth ignite under Jenna’s breastbone.
Their stare drew out, and the heat spread across her chest. No words had passed between them since takeoff, yet there was no denying the intimacy of the look they now shared. It was a reminder of a different kind of intimacy—a carnal one.
“You can take off your harnesses,” Vic interrupted them. The cyborg had left his first mate at the controls while he entered the cabin once more.
Jenna dragged her gaze from Malik’s, grateful for the distraction. Unclipping herself, she rose to her feet and unsteadily moved past her bodyguard. Her knee brushed his thigh as she did so, and her pulse quickened in response.
Damn it, the man had a primal effect on her. She needed to get ahold of herself.
Turning to Vic, she shifted her attention back to their mission. “Where’s the smuggler’s hold we’ll be hiding in?”
“Right here.” He tapped the heel of his booted foot on the metal deck. “They’ll do a full scan of the ship … but as I told you, it’s lined, so they won’t find you.”
Jenna glanced down at the metal deck, her belly clenching. It was getting real now, and she felt underprepared for what lay ahead. Her diplomatic skills likely wouldn’t be of much use to her when they reached Mir-Brennan Tower. Instead, she needed to be able to defend herself at least.
Glancing back at Malik, she flashed him a tight smile. “In the meantime, we need to start preparing for our rescue.” Their gazes held. “And I should learn how to handle myself with a laser-pistol.”
19. DISTANT PLANETS
“WHICH HAND DO you favor?”
“My left … why?”
“You need to grip the pistol in your dominant hand.”
Malik’s expression was all business as he passed her the weapon, butt pointed downward. It was a small handgun, far less cumbersome than the ones he’d brought for him, Vic, and Obsidian.
“Whenever you’re practicing, make sure the energy output is set at zero. Fifty percent will stun … while anything over eighty percent is lethal,” Malik explained. “And always hold the pistol with the barrel facing down and away from you when you’re adjusting the output.”
Jenna nodded, mouth thinning. She would have thought some things didn’t need explaining. Nevertheless, she’d asked for this lesson. Once they landed on Idral, they’d be able to start planning the rescue mission in detail. Right now though, she needed to know how to shoot straight.
“Steady it with your free hand.” Malik moved behind her. “That’s good.” They stood at the cockpit end of the cabin. Vic had switched on a target screen at the opposite end, up against the wall. The screen was equipped with a laser sensor. Fortunately, as an ex-marine, Vic had one; he liked to keep his shooting sharp. “Now place your feet shoulder-width apart, and step forward with your right foot.”
Jenna obeyed. She then squinted at the target. Its various rings glowed yellow and blue on the screen. “So, I just point and shoot then?”
Vic gave a soft snort. The cyborg lounged on a nearby bunk, watching the lesson unfold. Jenna wished she didn’t have an audience, but since this was Vic’s ship, she could hardly banish him from her presence.
She just needed to focus, to forget everything except that target on the far wall.
