“This is my mission,” he says.
The Pink actually stands up to him. “It is my worlds that are under attack, Darrow. Considering we’re entering a warzone, might not it be best to have as many tools in our belt as our belt can fit? If you can’t find a use for her, I guarantee you Athena can.”
“The Obsidians will probably be dead before we even get there,” Darrow says.
“And if they’re not?” Aurae asks.
I feel a surge of guilt for snapping at the Pink, and sudden affection as soon as she backs me up. Not to mention, Darrow is listening to her. “I know the Volk served under you. But they also deserted you.” That seems to wound Darrow. “Whether you like it or not, she’s on our path.”
Darrow scratches his beard. “She’s not trained.”
“There are more ways to fight than with violence,” Aurae says.
“She’s right,” Cassius agrees, obviously sweet on Aurae. “I could use a janitor.”
Aurae glares at him. “What can you do, Lyria?”
“I know how to hand a ship, as crew. Rangers taught me to EVO jump and shoot.” Darrow’s eyebrows float upward. “I can fly a bit too. And I might be small, but I can do things you can’t. Went nine days under your nose. Could one of you do that? Naw. You wouldn’t fit in the electrical ducts. You’re too bloody big. If it weren’t for the ham and that crazy bastard I’d have managed the whole trip. Not that it matters. You can’t turn back. You’ll lose eighteen days.”
I catch my breath and smile up at Darrow, hopeful.
“I say we flush her out the airlock, Darrow? Straight up murder her,” Cassius says, but then gives me a wink. I blush and smile back at him when I realize he’s japing. He’s on my side, probably just because of Aurae. He’s also the most attractive man I’ve ever had wink at me in my whole life. Matteo was beautiful, but Cassius. Oh, that’s a man. Seeing Aurae missed his sarcasm, he hurries to clarify. “But if coldblooded murder isn’t on the menu, Lyria is right. We are stuck with her. Personally, I think the more the merrier. I could use an extra hand with the ship.”
Darrow’s gone quiet, thinking, but not in a pleasant way. “What makes you so certain Volga isn’t happy where she is?” he asks me.
“You don’t know her. I do. Fá’s a monster. He killed Ephraim. That Gray was like a father to her.” That seems to connect with Darrow.
Cassius petitions on my behalf. “Come on, Reap. Kid’s House Mars through and through. Look, it’s clear she wants to punch you. She’s even got her arms crossed.”
Finally, Darrow relents. “You follow my orders, Lyria. The last thing I want to do is cross the Obsidians. My mission is not to rescue Volga.”
“No, it’s to contact Athena,” I say. His face tightens. “Sorry. I overheard from the ducts.”
I really gotta stop talking so much.
“You are an asset I choose when and how to deploy. Yes? If our goals coincide, fine. If they don’t, you suck it up. Returning to Mars with strength is our only priority.”
“Right. I got a condition then too,” I say. “If I get a shot at Volga, you let me go. Long as it doesn’t slag up your mission. Like I said, I ain’t yours to protect. Deal?”
Darrow sighs, spits in his hand, and extends it. I do the same and my hand disappears into his as we shake. It’s the first time I’ve touched him. An electric thrill goes through me. If my sister was alive, if my brothers were, they’d die knowing I spitshook the hand of the Reaper himself, and nearly broke my hand doing it too. I don’t think he even meant to squeeze so hard.
“I’m back to bunk,” Darrow says with a yawn. “Cassius, Aurae, you two seem to be her champions, so she’s your charge. Find her a bunk and get her to work in the morning.”
Cassius snaps a mock salute and drawls: “Yes, Imperator. Happy to, Imperator. Good call, Imperator.” Darrow leans in close to him, sniffs, and raises an eyebrow. Cassius shrugs, sheepish.
“Right. So can you actually hand a ship or was that just talk?” Cassius asks me once Darrow has left.
“I can hand.”
“Lovely.” He sniffs me this time and glances at Aurae.
“I’ll deal with the stench if you find some clean clothes,” the Pink says. “Come along, you smell like an oryx.”
“Like a what?”
* * *
—
I take my time in the shower. After nine days in my own stink, the hot water is the Vale itself. When I come out the flush, Aurae is waiting for me. I cover my tits and nethers, and jump back into the flush. “It’s only flesh,” she calls and tosses a towel in to me.
“Easy to say when yours looks like that,” I call back.
She laughs. Beautifully, of course.
When I’m dry, she leads me to the crew cabin next to her own. It is small, but a grand step up from my cubby. It has a bunk, a desk, lockers, and a holovid player. As well as loads of candy and Blue space charts. I eye the mattress like it’s made of ham. After sleeping on metal, it might as well be. Wrapped in the towel, I stand awkward under Aurae’s gaze. Not sure what to do. I’ve never felt more clumsy and ugly than in the Pink’s presence. She might as well be made of air. Maybe it was that insecurity that made me snap when she came to my defense. “Thank you,” I say to her. “For speaking up for me. Who is this Athena then?”
“She is a teacher, and a leader. She freed me when I was younger than you are now.”
“So what is she? Like the Ares of the Rim?”
“Ares was a warrior. Athena is…a builder. At least to me. You’ll have to decide for yourself when you meet her. Cassius will be coming with clothes. Do you need anything else? Perhaps a lullaby? It’s been a frightful evening.”
“I’m not nine. Oh. It was a joke.”
“Not everyone is aiming at you, Lyria. Glad you’re aboard,” she says and sweeps away.
I wait in my towel on the bed until a knock comes at the door. Cassius enters and tosses me a bundle of clothes. “My old pilot left her gear behind. Since you’re in her quarters, figured, well. Might be a little long in the limbs, but it’s the best fit we have.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Where’d she go?”
“Who?”
“Your old pilot.”
He grimaces. “With my other crew member.” He hesitates. “With Lysander au Lune.”
I stare at him. “A Lune.” He nods across the hall to Darrow’s door. “A Lune slept there?”
“You’d find out sooner or later—”
“Mad,” I say. “A Lune there. Me here?” I laugh, stunned. “Why’d he go?” I ask.
“He chose to be a Lune.”
“Oh,” I say a little darker. “And she chose to be a Blue?”
He seems surprised by my question, pleasantly. “Yes. Tailor them however you like. There’s sewing supplies in the machine shop, though be wary in there. It’s a sty these days. I made you a plate too. Some of that ham. But no eating in your room. Eat at the table like a civilized human. Can’t stand crumbs on my ship. Must have standards.”