me a rest? Stick me in academy quarters on my own, no roomie like everyone else. Suit malfunctions? Your brother’ll keep me out of the action, put all of you in danger. And you never get back what you lose, once they see it. So please, don’t make a big deal out of it. And if you could hold off your customary scarcasm, that’d be great too.”
Scarlett quirks one sculpted eyebrow. “Scarcasm?”
“Yeah, fits, right? I thought that one up last night.”
Great Maker, Finian, did you just let her know you were thinking about her last night … ?
“Nobody here is going to think less of you if you accept help, Fin,” she says.
“Easy for you to say,” I reply, waving at my exosuit. “There’s a reason I got picked last out of every Gearhead in the Draft.”
Ever so slowly, Scar pouts. “Finian?”
“… Yeah?”
“Do you ever wonder if the reason you were picked last might not be the suit?” She holds me pinned with her eyes. “I’m not saying people don’t notice it. I’m just saying that maybe … just maybe, you got picked last because you spend all your time convincing the galaxy you’re an insufferable asshole?”
I don’t know how to reply to that. Knocked all the way back on my heels.
“It’s okay, Fin,” she says quietly. “Your family seals your den, right?”
And I know, in that moment, that she’s figured me out. A Betraskan wants a group to be a part of—needs one on a deep, instinctive level. It’s not just cultural for us, it’s a part of our very DNA. Much as I pretend, we don’t like to be alone.
And though I’d rather tango with Casseldon Bianchi’s favorite ex-pet than say it out loud, all this time, a part of me’s been hunting for a connection. I can’t help it—I lean toward it like a flower following the sun. And looking around the bridge, I realize maybe, just maybe, I’ve found my clan in this squad.
So, I thump my hand into hers, and with a nearly invisible heft, she has me on my feet. For a moment, we’re only a few centimeters apart. Big blue eyes staring right into mine.
Maker’s bits, I really like her.
And then she throws me a wink, holds up a biosuit between us. The silvery material is like water in our hands, and Scarlett just happens to be down on one knee to straighten the foot of hers at the right time to shift mine and help me get a leg into it more easily, with nobody else the wiser.
But by the time we’re all suited up, I know I’m actually in trouble. It’s hard to move, harder to walk, and my suit’s flashing warning signals at me that I silence with the press of a couple of buttons.
Zila reports there’s nothing unfriendly in the skies overhead, and Cat and I head into the Longbow’s belly to check the state of Engineering. Surprisingly, it only looks about half as bad as I feel. Peering about, I can see the rail gun round has punched through our hull like wet paper. The hole is reparable, but our baby’s heart has been cut up pretty bad.
“How’s it looking in here?” Tyler asks, mooching up behind us.
“Messy,” Cat replies, pointing at our power core. “Reactor’s totally spanked.”
“I realize being Mr. Sunshine isn’t usually my job, but it’s not all terrible news,” I note. “The hull will get taken care of by the auto-repair systems. The core’s a discrete part, so we could switch it out easy enough. Assuming we can find some heavy radioactives to replace the fuel cells with.”
“Okay, but where are we going to find some of those?” Tyler asks.
“I was aiming for the settlement as we came in,” Cat says. “It should be about ten klicks by foot from here.”
Color me six shades of impressed that she managed to even get that close. But it seems like a solid plan.
“Then we want to find the colony spaceport,” I say. “I presume they had one, and odds are good that the folks here never evac’d, or more people would know that the interdiction was a lie. That means their ships should still be on the ground. In the right conditions, and with a little spit and polish, we might get a working reactor core out of this yet.”
“Sounds good,” Ty nods.
“Yeah, sure,” Cat scoffs. “I mean, for a definition of good that includes a ten-klick forced march over hostile territory with walking wounded toward a