“What ship was it?” He stepped forward, seeing his reflection in her visor, the scruff he’d left on his face giving him a buffer against the world. “The specs?”
Her head turned to him, but she didn’t answer.
“If it’s the fucker from Earth, then I need to know.”
She twitched, then held up her PALM.
An image of a ship,his ship, formed above her hand. Weapons fire targeted it, the pink shield rippling against the black of space. Sawyer knew his upgrades could withstand even the largest weapons from a Guardian—for a time.
How the fuck had the Calypson gotten it space-worthy? It had only been a couple of days, and Sawyer’s last diagnostic had predicted weeks of repairs.
“Thatfuckingthief.” He tore his eyes away from the feed. “I need a battle-suit,” he said. “And a weapon.”
A burst of orange erupted from his ship. They both braced, but it didn’t even make the Guardian shudder.
It should have.Sawyer knew his weapons, and they were fierce.
Maybe the Calypson hadn’t fixed everything. Even with that thought, an itch of unease traveled up his spine.
The door to the lift opened on deck ten, and Biggs stepped out without acknowledging his requests. She marched aft, to battle stations and tactical.
“Probably a pulse cannon, too,” Sawyer called, following behind. He’d need a bigger gun to take that fucker down. Not even his cruiser’s weapons had kept him dead.
Biggs didn’t acknowledge the demand, swiped her PALM on a security panel of a restricted area, and strode inside. It closed before he could get to it, and swiping his own PALM did nothing.
“Fuck.” He really needed some sort of protective suit if he was to get off this ship alive.
And that was what he needed to do. If that fucker landed, Sawyer wanted to be as far away as possible. His job was done. He had nothing invested in this ship except his mandatory forty-eight. They could all burn for all he cared.
Not quite true. Not everyone.
He ignored that little voice as the lights continued to pulse down the corridor. More defenders rushed to where Biggs had disappeared. He thought about following despite his lack of clearance.
But then he took a step backward, and another.
He’d lost the babysitter. He was on his own. Just what he’d asked for.
I need to get off this ship.
He’d always thought of himself as a smart man. Leaving right now might feel cowardly deep in his bones, but retreating, getting as far away from theCorvusas possible, was the smart thing to do.
Chapter thirty-three
Far past Mars, the Guardian formed as a speck on black, just another star, until Iax drew close and the speck grew into a sleek warship.
He had learned many things about Sawyer Knox’s vessel while traveling. About its enhancements, its defenses, its camouflage capabilities, and its weapons.
After hours upon hours of repairs on Earth, Iax had left the atmosphere. Well-timed too, because more ships had been about to arrive at both the research station and Wynn’s outpost as the storm ebbed in strength. He had engaged those camouflage capabilities to slip past them without incident.
And while on his journey, he had taken the time to converse with the ship fully, to integrate himself until a thought opened a door, or adjusted his trajectory. And he sent his essence into the belly of the cruiser, to the four unique weapons, shells, hidden within. He infused all of them witha portion of his Calypson self. They waited, as expectant and eager as he, for the hulking mass of the warship to come into range.
Even more interesting, he had learned more about the man who owned this vessel. His secrets, the data he digested, the rules he liked to break.
That such a man had touched Wynn Lambdin, and had forced her out of her home, created a haze over Iax’s vision he could not clear. He was fixated on her, and relentless in his need to find her.
Voices echoed over the comm system, instructions, orders to identify himself. To stop, stand down, and prepare to be boarded. Along with the orders came the drone of thousands of new voices in his head. Relief shimmered over his shoulders.
Ever since he was a child, he had heard others. But since being so far away from Sector Ten, he had known only silence and quiet, except for the animalistic thoughts of the beasts, and the brief contact with Knox.
