what they use for jaunts into town, I’m not sure I’m ready to face what they keep on the base.
Gal catches my eye over the top of Wen’s head. His eyebrows lift, his eyes bugging out as if to say, Seriously?
I agree. “Wen, are you saying they’ll let us hitch a ride on one of the shuttles when it goes back to the base?”
In the shadow of her hood, I catch the flash of teeth. I know exactly what it means.
“You’re kidding.”
“Give me a better plan, flyboy. The soldiers in town can’t transport anyone without ID. Base policy.”
“Hold on, are you saying you’ve tried to join up with the resistance already?”
Wen shrugs.
“And I’m guessing this was after the whole…” I motion vaguely at the left side of her face.
“Who better to shelter me from Dago Korsa than an army, right? Except, turns out this army needs a goddamn ID card just like any other potentially useful thing in this empire. But with you two in hand, if we can get onto the base…”
“Tell me we’re doing something else,” Gal groans.
Wen’s face lights up when I shake my head. “Sorry, Gal,” I say, eyes fixed on a shuttle that looks like it will handle like a god-given dream. I let my hunger devour my nervousness. Let myself dip into the mentality that makes Wen a living nightmare. “We’re jacking a ship.”
* * *
—
Five minutes later, Gal and I are in a full-blown argument on the edge of the shipyard. “It’s reckless,” he says. “Irresponsible. We’re better than this, Ettian.”
I cast a nervous glance at the sole pilot on the lot. He sits on the folded-out steps of his shuttle, a joint dangling from his fingers, and his eyes are fixed intently on us. “Keep it down,” I warn. “We’re drawing attention.”
“I could punch you in the face right now—how’s that for drawing attention?” he spits through his teeth.
“You like my face too much to do that.”
Gal lets out a bark of laughter, still pacing back and forth. “You asshole. I thought you were on my side.”
“First of all, I can’t be on your side for everything. Just because we’re best friends doesn’t mean we’re the same person. I think this is our best option. You disagree.”
“And you should listen to me,” Gal snarls, turning on me with so much fervor that I take a step back. He collapses the distance between us, going up on his toes to get right in my face.
“Why should I listen to you?” I give him my smuggest smile.
“Because I’m the—”
“Careful,” I warn. Gal’s eyes flick to the smoking pilot, who’s watching with even more intensity now.
“Because I’m the brains of this outfit, how about that?”
“The brains, really?”
“Someone has to be!” he shouts.
The shriek of boltfire from across the lot cuts off my retort, punctuated by a soft thud. We both glance over to where the shuttle pilot slumps in the dirt with Wen standing over him, my stolen blaster smoking in her hands. “All clear,” she says, waving us over and holstering her gun.
“How’d we do?” I ask as we jog up.
Wen grapples with the pilot’s unconscious body, dragging him up the steps by the shoulders of his fatigues. “Gal, you overact. Try to tone it down next time—you push it past the realm of the believable. Ettian, your dialogue is so generic—you’re just throwing out questions that egg him on. Not super engaging.”
I grab the pilot’s legs and help her hoist him up into the cockpit. “But we gave you the time you needed?”
“That and more. I wanted to see how far you guys would take it.”
“Can we focus?” Gal hisses, clambering up after us as he glances back across the lot. “All clear, but the noise is going to draw attention. We gotta move.”
I turn to find Wen perched in the pilot’s seat, throwing switches. The unconscious pilot’s joint