Chapter 74

Chapter Seventy-Four

Selen paced in the cargo hold, hands on hips, head bowed, attention far away. It was the look Connor had feared: locked in and ready for a fight.

He stopped several meters away, hiding in the shadows created by the flickering light they’d never had a chance to fix and breathed deep, giving himself permission to feel good about what he’d done.

The air was cool and fresh, the atmospheric recycler working at near-peak effectiveness despite the loud hum coming from the overhead vents.

The landing gear was functional—barely.

Without Drew, they were lucky the ship could even fly.

Connor cleared his throat and stepped into the bright light. “What’s this about?”

That snapped Selen out of her pacing. She wheeled around. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I know.”

What he would give to have Toshiko there with him. He could remember the tea with its subtle sweetness and herbal depths.

That had been a source of tranquility and strength.

Maybe he could draw on those memories.

Selen looked past him, perhaps making sure they were alone. “I’ve called everyone down here.”

“For a meeting?”

“Yes.” Even giving up that little bit of information seemed to tax her.

“About?”

“We’ll discuss it in the meeting.”

“So, you called me down here to tell me we were going to have a meeting? Shouldn’t I be part of the decision-making process?”

“Not for this.”

“Then why bother calling me down here?”

The sound of booted steps from the ramp brought him around, and a second later, he caught voices: Vicente and Aubriella.

Then there were more voices, more steps.

Selen turned away and returned to her pacing.

Their conversation was done, and it had consisted of the simple notification. Well, and the unspoken element of notifying him he wasn’t part of the decision-making process anymore.

Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been consulted. Had she talked to him about the Dr. Litvinenko mission?

Vicente’s laugh boomed. “Hey, Boss! We getting ready to launch?”

Connor tried to smile. He drifted away from Selen to find a place at the back of the gathering team, taking time to pat some on the shoulder and to check on others.

When he asked Martienne how she was, the pilot pulled him close by the forearm. “If we were off this planet, my health would not be in question.”

“Soon, I hope.”

But her stare had an intensity that said she wasn’t interested in false reassurance.

Then Selen clapped her hands. “Listen up!”

Martienne only looked away with some effort but didn’t release her hold on him.

Near the front of the gathering, Vicente let out a deep whoop. “We heading home, Captain?”

Selen didn’t look at the big man. “This won’t take long. You should have heard by now that the Lucky Sevens is operational.”

The team clapped and turned toward Connor and Yemi, who stood not a meter away.

That went on until Selen whistled. “All right. So, here’s the deal. We came here with a mission, and we need to complete it.”

All the chatter and euphoria died. People stiffened or sagged.

And Martienne’s grip tightened on Connor. Her eyes questioned, then realization settled in: He hadn’t known.

She let out a resigned chuckle.

At the front of the gathered team, a soft, youthful female voice broke the silence. “We…can’t.” It was Aubriella. She searched around the hold. “We lost…everything.”

Connor remembered the day he’d told her that as long as she stayed with Rudy, she would make it out of anything alive.

How could she ever trust her commander anymore?

Tom Moon glanced at Vicente, then raised a hand.

Selen crossed her arms. “You have a question, Tom?”

“Aubriella’s right. We need to abort and go home.”

“We have a job. We signed a contract.”

Kalpana had been leaning against a crate, keeping her distance from everyone else and occasionally glancing at Connor. Now she shifted to her feet. “This is a sh*t job.”

Selen rocked back on her heels for a second. “Mercenaries who don’t fulfill their contracts don’t last long.”

Heavy steps came from the ramp, and not long after, Mosiah came into view. He brushed past, pausing long enough that Connor caught the whiff of alcohol. It wasn’t just on the breath but leaking from the old man’s skin.

Mosiah stopped when he stood beside Aubriella. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Should I take offense that I wasn’t invited?”

Selen tapped a booted toe on the deck. “You’re not part of my team.”

“I heard everyone coming down here. Was it wrong for me to listen in?”

“That’s fine. We’re wrapping up.”

“If I might, Captain?” Mosiah held up a hand that looked old and weak, discolored by liver spots and crisscrossed by veins.

Selen glared, then waved for him to proceed.

He licked his lips. “I no longer have the confidence I did about this mission.” The old man looked around the open compartment. “Your competence can’t be questioned, but something about this place has changed.”

Vicente snorted. “It’s a death trap.”

“It has, indeed, became an alien place. Where years ago, we explained away all the strange events we encountered as mere coincidence, I now question that assessment.” Mosiah sagged slightly. “Perhaps our trip here all those years ago unleashed these things.”

Selen held up her hands for silence. “You paid us to get you down there.”

“Perhaps instead you should lower me from the ship into the ruins.”

“Those flying scorpions will kill you before you reach the ground.”

Gregor’s face quivered. “No! Let him try! This idea he has is good.”

“We signed a contract.” Selen moved into Mosiah’s space, but she stopped shy of poking him with a finger like she did to Connor. “We’ll take you to the ruins, then we’ll get you into that well or whatever, and you’ll return what you stole.”

The old man shrank in on himself, defeated. “You’re right, of course.”

He shuffled back through the team, past Connor, then up the ramp and out of sight.

It took the last fight out of the team.

Selen put her hands back on her hips. “That’s it. Clean your gear. Get some rest. We head out in the morning.”

Without so much as a murmur, the mercenaries exited, a broken, slumping group.

Connor waited until Martienne followed the others and only he and Selen remained, then shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Even one day to plan could save lives.”

“We go in the morning.”

“Don’t you care what happens to your team?” He was careful to emphasize that it was now her team, not theirs.

But Selen didn’t react to that. Instead, she looked around the cargo hold, frowning. “I care about my team. You know that.”

“Then why?”

“Because if we stay here too long, none of us will leave.”