Chapter 90

Chapter Ninety

When people woke to discover the cargo hold filled with crates of ammunition, explosives, and new weapons, the mood aboard the Lucky Sevens changed dramatically—sullen faces replaced with smiles and jubilant shouts.

To Connor, standing halfway down the cargo bay ramp, it was like Gifting Day.

As a kid, he’d loved waking to the hugs of his parents on that morning. He would rush out to their small kitchen to find a package wrapped in bright paper sitting atop the aged, wooden table. Steam would be rising from a mug of hot cocoa.

That first sip—sweet and minty—would warm him, enough to break the morning chill.

Then he would turn his attention to the gift, which was usually something small and insignificant, often a cheap gadget, a knockoff of a game device like Kalpana’s Zo-Robot Hunter that could be purchased at one of the open market stalls in town.

Always, though, Connor would be thrilled by the love coming from his parents.

That was what it was like watching the team open the crates and inspect the weapons. Most of them had no idea how dangerous the work had been.

First, pried the airlock hatches wide enough to get the crates out.

Then, they’d hacked through the silvery strands that stretched throughout the hold.

After that, they’d dragged the crates out.

And finally, Martienne had maneuvered the Lucky Sevens so low that it bent the tops of the spike-trees and sent hundreds more of the winged parasites into the air.

All the while, Kalpana kept the giant bugs away with the occasional kill shot.

The joy on the faces, the laughter and joking—that made it all worthwhile.

Except that now, Selen stood beside him, chin thrust forward, muscles working along the length of her jaw, arms crossed under her breasts. Instead of happiness at the team’s celebrations, she was giving off heat.

Her fingers dug into the skin of her arms, whitening the flesh. “You drugged me.”

Connor sucked in a breath, the air thick and sour. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Now you think drugging your commander is acceptable?”

“We needed something big and bold to change things.”

“Because I’ve made to mistakes.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She turned a frosty glare on him. “That’s right. You said I’ve pushed them too hard.”

He wasn’t going to look away. Too many times, he’d held her flushed face in his hands after intense lovemaking to forget what they’d once had. There had to be something of that old Selen in her somewhere.

But all he could see was fury now. “I took a chance, Selen.”

“You drugged me.”

“That was part of the gamble. I found this ship on the sensor sweeps.”

“You mean Martienne did. You don’t have access to those sweeps, remember?”

Because of the corrupted profile Selen wouldn’t fix. “I asked her to let me examine the sweeps.”

“She should have said no.”

“I would have ordered her to let me see them.” Connor swallowed. If Selen needed more reason to fire him, now she had it. “Mosiah told me it might be out there.”

Selen’s eyes dropped. “I’m the captain of this team. Selen’s Devils, not Connor’s Devils.”

“I know.”

“You undermined my authority.”

“For the team. If this ship had something in it that could give us an edge against those monsters, we had to have it. Now we do.”

“Some ammunition and explosives? That made it worth mutiny?”

“It’s not mutiny. This is your team. Anyway, there’s more.”

She straightened. “What?”

“There’s a small armored vehicle in the hold. Yemi could fix it up, I’m pretty sure.”

Selen breathed heavily. Her eyes were moist. “And that justifies what you did to me?”

“I wanted to save lives—all of our lives.”

A shiver ran through her. “What else did you take from there?”

Connor had already stripped off his armor and had taken everything from the backpack, putting everything but the broken pocket computer and pistol in his pockets. He pulled out the pocket computer and necklace he’d taken from the body in the galley. “This. And a pistol. It’s the exact same model as mine.”

Her eyes widened. Of course they would. She’d given him the pistol as a gift when she’d made him second-in-command. That pistol held significance to her.

Then he remembered the patch. “Oh. And…” He dug around in his back pocket. “This.”

She examined the square of leather, flipping it over in her hand, then rubbing a thumb over the devil face. “What…?”

“It was a patch on a jacket. They must have been mercenaries. Devils?”

Her fingers wrapped around the symbol. “This was it?”

“Well, the data cores were gone. I’m pretty sure that means someone got out alive. There was a snake-like thing…inside the dead pilot, but she was killed by the crash. The corpses I found had broken necks and bones.”

“Bring me the pistol.”

“Sure.” Connor turned. Then he froze. “Am I fired?”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“I can bring you all my weapons.”

“I said I’m thinking about it.” She pushed the leather patch into her shorts pocket. “For now, I want everything you took from the ship.”

“Sure. Can I ask why?”

“Because they’re reminders of what you did.”

“But the weapons and ammunition—we can keep that, right?”

Her shoulders came up, as if she might be on the verge of shouting at him. “I told you—I’m still thinking about it.”

He hurried up the ramp, then up the forward ladder chute. This was wrong. It felt petty. Everything he’d done had been to increase the odds of success. He’d shown initiative, and even though he’d gassed his captain, it had been because she was losing the team and was at risk.

The pistol rested on the blanket covering his bunk. Beside it rested the pocket computer with the cracked screen.

If she settled for taking these from him, that was fine.

She seemed to be considering more, maybe tossing the rest of the salvage away.

He shoved the pistol into one pocket and the broken computer into the other.

Then he pulled the computer out again.

Why would it have been in the secure room? Maybe the person who’d taken the data cores had dropped it. Maybe Elise could repair it, and they’d get the answers he was looking for after all: Who were these mercenaries, and why had they come here?

Connor hid the computer in his closet, then hurried back to the cargo bay ramp.

He handed the gun to Selen. “I’m really sorry. I guess I just don’t trust Mosiah.”

Selen knuckled a tear from her eye and nodded. “I told you.”

“You did. I still don’t know what’s going on.”

She hugged Connor—brief but intense—the butt of the gun pressing into his back. “He’s manipulating you. I warned you.”

When she looked up, a sad smile spread her lips wide. Her kiss was too quick to pull away from. Her tears left a salty taste on his lips.

Connor stroked her hair. “I made a mistake, but it was a good one.”

Then she pulled back and drew a deep, long breath. “You got lucky.”

A moment later, she sauntered up the ramp, the sway of her hips evoking memories he didn’t need at that moment.

He shook his head and thought of Toshiko.

With his mind so clouded, he would have to rely on her strength for guidance.

Without that, he was lost.