Ar'Tok - Alana Khan Page 0,11

have the courage to even glance under the captain’s desk. I remember laying there for long hours listening to Ar’Tok’s calming voice, thinking I was going to die. I don’t want to revisit that.

Savannah was right; the oxygenator is toast. I don’t bother to grab the part number; Savannah told me she had it already.

One step into the hydroponics lab and I feel gut-punched. All those beautiful plants are dead. Oxygen-less for twenty-four hours. Poor things. My imagination generously provides me with a mental soundtrack of high-pitched squeals of hundreds of plants dying in agony.

“Can you help me pick some of the produce?” I ask Ar’Tok, who’s at my side. “I think it’s still edible.”

I grab two cloth bags I use for just this purpose, toss him one, and we harvest everything that’s even remotely ripe. Maddie might be able to salvage something out of all this.

I don’t take the direct route out of the Misfit, I go the long way around, entering every room, touching things fondly, slipping into mom and dad’s bedroom, and looking at their belongings. I never had the heart to get rid of any of it.

Ar’Tok instinctively knows I’m about to enter my bedroom before I even touch the palm plate. For some reason, it looks smaller. It seems less mine, as if I don’t belong here anymore.

“Give me a minute,” I say, noticing he’s waiting in the hallway for me. Here’s a male who understands the concept of personal space. It makes me like him more.

I grab two pillowcases and stuff them with everything I think I’ll need. I jammed things in tight, thinking I’d need a lot of space, but neither case is full. None of it seems important right now.

As we walk back through the airlock, I have the oddest feeling I’ll never return.

Chapter Three

Star

It’s not quite bedtime, but I’m tired. No, tired doesn’t adequately describe the fatigue permeating every cell of my body. I guess almost dying, passing out, and having your world turned upside down will do that to a girl.

“You look ready for bed,” Ar’Tok says. “I’ll grab dinner and bring it to your room. Then let you get some rest.”

He’s been at my side all day. Running interference with all the new people I’ve met, terminating conversations that ran too long, urging me to leave the Misfit before I was so tired he needed to carry me. And he did it all in his quiet, respectful way.

Maybe I dozed off while he was gone, because he’s back before I know it. After he plumps my pillows, he waits for me to sit up against the back wall, hands me my plate, and walks to the door.

“You’re not joining me?” I ask.

“I figured you’d want some time alone.”

I should want some time alone. Dad died four years ago, and I haven’t seen a living soul in all those years. I’ve been with Ar’Tok all day and should be ready for the quiet I’m so used to. But I’m not.

“If you need some space, I understand, but I’d like to have dinner with you, Ar’Tok.”

He cocks his head as if he’s digesting my words, parsing through them to assess for honesty.

“Really,” I reassure him. Patting the bed, I say, “Maybe no talking. Let’s watch one of the funny vids you told me about.”

He eases his huge frame onto the far side of the bed, tells the screen what to play, and digs into his food. Watching him eat is more fascinating than the vid, which is a compilation of funny feline antics from planets across the galaxy.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as he very precisely cuts his food into the perfect size and eats thoughtfully, his full attention on every bite as if he’s savoring every single chew. The thought pops into my brain that this male hasn’t always had the opportunity to eat when he was hungry. It makes me ache to learn more about him.

After the last feline jumps into the last box, Ar’Tok scoots off the bed. “You look ready to fall asleep, Star. Knock on my door if you need anything. I’m the first door to your right.”

He pauses for the briefest moment, as if he wants to say something else, then grabs my plate and leaves. I miss him immediately; his quiet presence comforted me.

I’m alone on the Fool’s Errand for the first time. I know the Misfit like the back of my hand. I’m intimately familiar with every creak and