She leaned against the doorframe, blocking Dutch’s entrance. “You’re still not welcome here. I’m sorry.”
“You are alittlewelcome,” Moss intoned overhead. “Provided you’ve come with extensive apologies.”
“Apologies, yes, and also parts to repair the engine!” Dutch hefted the box with a grunt.
Torian peered past him, but other than them, the dock was empty. The draic, Zen, must have stayed on his own ship.
Dutch continued: “Well, hopefully these parts work. Vaesa’s maintenance hangar is in another biome that appears to have suffered catastrophic loss of life support. I suspect theDestiny—ah, sorry,Destitute—or is itTraitor? Well, never mind. I suspect the auto-navigation likely detected unbreathable atmosphere at thepropermaintenance hangar, and redirected you here instead. That’s how you found this space station, correct?”
It was nearly impossible to follow his thought process, especially after pulling an all-nighter. Torian crossed her arms and took a moment to parse through the question, at least. “Yeah. Pulled us out of a wormhole and dropped us here.”
“Of course it did. Erm, may I?”
He wanted to come aboard. Torian wrestled with it. She was exhausted, and making no progress… but every moment she wasted was another moment Celise was suffering. And fucking up astarship engine repairwas a catastrophically bad idea. She could be dead in space with one bad “fix.”
It was smarter to let Dutch, the nylarian who built this ship, repair it.
She still didn’t move.
Dutch sighed, shifting the weight of the box to his opposite arm. His limbs were thin and longer than a human’s, just different enough to be vaguely unsettling. “My dear, if I was going to muscle you out of your ship, I’d have brought my dashingly strong partner.”
“A draic has enough strength to pick up a humanandtear off their limbs,” Moss supplied.
“Thank you, Moss,” Torian called.
Dutch offered a comforting smile. “You can have this ship, Ms. Razner. Or should I say,CaptainRazner? You were right; your life is a blink for me. But for Moss, I suspect it’s much, much longer—which is why I’m here. I need to speak with it.”
“Did you ask Moss if it wants to talk?” Torian replied.
Silence.
Behind Torian, a light illuminated up the staircase, leading toward the engine hatch. Moss sounded grudging. “I am willing to hear your extensive apologies. It will not change my preference of the current starship owner, but… persistent apologies over the course of Torian’s life might repair the years where I was abandoned, alone, inside a dark human hangar, decaying while you cavorted with a draic.”
Dutch’s smile faltered, sliding into something closer to guilt. He laughed nervously. “Ah, yes. I deserve that.”
“Correct.”
Torian sighed, stepping aside. It was probably good she hadn’t finished brewing her cup of ravla—she was feeling disconnected now, like she was floating, listening to this conversation secondhand. “Okay, well… if you and Dutch need to talk, maybe I will get some sleep. But Moss, make sure he’s not going to break the engine more.”
“Whyeverwould I do that?” Dutch sounded aghast.
Torian massaged her brow. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you.”
“Same for you. Isn’t that exciting?” Dutch slid past her into the ship. He moved with confidence up the staircase, following Moss’s lights. She climbed after him, watching from the living area as he passed the kitchenette and descended down the hatch. It was a struggle with the crate of supplies in his arms, but he somehow managed it.
Torian drew a slow breath and pivoted toward the sleeping room. “Moss,” she murmured. “Promise me something?”
Moss knew enough to lower its volume so they could have some semblance of privacy. “Of course. You always fulfill your promises. What is mine?”
“Don’t let him take the ship back. Don’t… um. Don’t leave me alone here.”
Moss was quiet for a moment. “You are theDestitute’s pilot, and you are my friend. Heleftme. I will not choose him over you.”
Torian smiled, stepping into the sleeping pod and dropping to the bed. That, somehow, was oddly comforting. She lay against the pillow, swallowing a yawn as her eyes drifted closed. The door slid shut automatically, casting the cozy room in comforting darkness. “Thanks, Moss.”
“Enjoy your sleep cycle, Torian. I will ensure we reach Rhymarra in a timely manner.”
Well, it was something.
