“I’ll get us into position for the tug,” Torian said, gently guiding theDestitutetoward the external device on Amelia’s ship.
More waiting.
Five minutes.
Seven.
“Um,” Auto-Nav said. “Incoming signatures! They’re back.”
Fuck.Fuck. Torian set her jaw. “We aren’t leaving. Not until Amelia attaches the tug. They can’t affect our ship, so we’ll just have to weather them.”
“Running scenarios.” Moss was silent for a moment, then said, “If it changes your decision, there is a fifty-four percent chance they can damage our hull—in that case, our instrument resistance will not matter. How is your breathing in space, Captain?”
“We’re notleaving,” Torian snapped.
“That is a self-sacrificing tendency, one Amelia herself told me not to allow. It is also a dramatic shift for someone who is not in aromantic relationship with Amelia Perrosk.” It wasn’t a question, and there was a distinctly sarcastic undertone.
Torian glared at the ceiling. “Regardless of whatever is happening between us, she’s still a friend. I don’t abandon my friends.”
Moss was silent for a moment. “Agreed.”
A breath later, something slammed into the hull. The entire ship jolted, and Auto-Nav said cheerfully, “Tug attached. Magnet holding strong.”
Torian peered at theCharlatan’s flight deck, which was difficult to see from this angle. What she could confirm, though, was that Amelia hadn’t come back.
Torian had a bad feeling about this.
“Get us back to Vaesa,” she ordered, even as more of those fish creatures reappeared. They poked around asteroids, hissing silently, swarming the ship again. One of the creatures plastered itself to the window, snarling at her.
Torian flipped it off, which was vaguely satisfying. “Auto-Nav! Now!”
“Okay!” Auto-Nav lurched the ship forward, and there was a jerk as the tow line went taut. It became apparent immediately that steering a second ship through an asteroid belt would take a true feat of piloting—especially when a huge asteroid narrowly missed theCharlatan.
“Watch it,” Torian yelped.
“Don’t distract me,” Auto-Nav shot back.
Control of the ship was still in Torian’s hands, but when she released the yoke, it moved independently. Auto-Navigation was just that—automatic—but it was a bit unnerving to realize that this computer program could steer anytime it wanted.
Unnerving… and a bit comforting, now. There was no way Torian could keep Amelia’s dead starship from smashing into these asteroids or other floating debris, but Auto-Nav didn’t seem to have any issue calculating collision courses and avoiding them.
Torian turned her attention instead to thosethingsplastered along her hull.
For a bit, she really thought they’d rip her starship apart—but as they flew steadily toward Vaesa, it became apparent that wasn’t how these things operated.
Apparent, and almost comical. The serpentine creatures seemed both annoyed and confused that they couldn’t stop her ship. After several minutes, the ones on the window stopped snarling, their faces twisting in obvious looks of perplexity.
Once that registered, they disconnected from her starship one by one, vanishing into the darkness.
“My external moss is again undisturbed. I believe they are leaving our ship,” Moss said. “Good riddance.”
For Torian, it felt more like they were gearing up for a final attack. “TheCharlatanis still attached, isn’t it?”
“Confirmed. We are traveling counter to their weight,” Auto-Nav said brightly.
Vaesa was in view now. So close. It felt too easy. Torian held her breath, tapping her fingers on her thigh. Could they make it inside, or would these creatures be back?
Torian wasn’t going to sit around and find out. “Their speech seems to be what’s impacting our systems. Whenever they opened their mouths, our instruments went wonky.”
