T’arq
T’arq growled and punched the side of the shuttle, groaning when his hand throbbed. He cradled it against his chest and sighed. He was terrified that she would be hurt, but he was also so proud of her and what she had overcome. It wasn’t a matter of whether she could do it—he knew she could—it was that he didn’t want anything to happen to her.
Especially not after last night.
Last night had been a miscalculation. How could he possibly have thought he could go to see her and just talk? He scoffed. As soon as he’d seen her with that blanket wrapped around her, he had wanted to carry her off somewhere and keep her safe.
What was wrong with him?
“What? Did you think punching a ship would feel pleasant?” Zac’s amused voice broke into his turbid thoughts.
T’arq glared at his friend and commander. “Does she have to come?”
Zac leaned against the side of the cargo hold doorway, arms crossed. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“So keep her safe.”
T’arq barked a humorless laugh. “Tried that already, ended up spacing her.” Sending Krystal into space on her own was the hardest thing he had ever done. He never wanted to feel like that again. He had been so certain he would die, but he’d been prepared to so long as she survived.
He had been ready to sacrifice himself for her.
And when they had both survived? What had he done? He’d lied to her. It didn’t matter that he had no choice; it wasn’t as if he could tell her he was part of a covert squad that completed missions that nobody wanted to ever be made public. He had still lied.
She didn’t trust him and that hurt. And, in the early hours of the morning as he watched her sleep, it was that realization that had sent him running from her room like a coward.
“We have work to do and she’s coming on the mission, whether you like it or not. Let’s go.” Zac’s tone broached no argument, and T’arq knew better than to try, so he stalked up the ramp and into the spacious cargo hold.
Thankfully, this shuttle was much bigger than the stealth ship. The cargo hold was small, and currently empty, as their mission was a short one and they weren’t transporting anything. There were rings and straps to tie bulky items down, which were currently stowed behind cargo nets, the elastic mesh stretching the length of the hold and from floor to ceiling.
The cargo hold was separated from the rest of the ship by a wall, split only by a narrow corridor that ran the length of the ship to show a glimpse of the cockpit. There was a tiny multi-purpose space between the cargo hold and the cockpit, which was currently configured with bench seating on one side where Domik was lounging, his hands behind his head and eyes closed. On the other side, CJ was stowing her pack in a locker with her name on it.
T’arq nodded in greeting as he passed into the cockpit. The ramp into the cargo hold was one of two entrances. The second was a door into the cockpit that could be accessed by a short flight of retractable steps. There were two seats at the very front of the ship, one for the pilot the other for the co-pilot. Krystal was already seated in the co-pilot’s chair and turned around in her seat to watch him approach. There was more seating around the outside of the space—pull-down seats that were not comfortable during long trips—where Zac and Laila were adjusting their harnesses.
It was a small battleship; the hull reinforced to prevent the penetrative rounds the Xakul liked to use in addition to their own plasma weapons. Which was what they needed, as they were about to go into battle.
“Everyone here?” T’arq asked as he slid into the pilot’s chair next to Krystal.
As Zac answered T’arq in the affirmative, Krystal turned to watch him strap himself into the seat.
“Are you going to be OK?” he asked. “The last time…” This was a bad idea. She really shouldn’t be here.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and smoothing her hands over her flight suit. She picked up the tablet in front of her and began tapping the screen.
“You don’t need to do this, Krystal.”
Her brown eyes were serious as they lifted to meet his. “Neither do you.”
“This is my job. It’s what I do.”
“And this,” she gestured with the tablet at the shuttle, “is what I do.”
He sighed and looked away, hands moving automatically to finish the pre-flight checks. This model of shuttle was what he had flown when he had first earned his commission. He had spent years ferrying troops in and out of battles with the Xakul, so often that he could find his way around the controls in the dark. Which he had actually had to do more than once.
If she would not stay behind, then he needed to do everything in his power to keep her safe… or at least as safe as possible, considering the circumstances.
“Krystal—”
