With a sudden jolt, Leta jerked awake.

Her eyes flew open and she glanced around. Someone (but who?) had wrapped a ragged blanket around her shoulders, and she grasped it for a moment before relaxing and taking in her surroundings: she was curled on an exam bench in the quiet, dark infirmary.

Moments before, she’d been tangled in the throes of a nightmare. The sleeping vision had started innocently enough: first, she’d been home on Vescent, searching all over her loft for a med kit. Then the landscape changed in a flash. She wasn’t at home at all, but in the Dionysian, which was, for some reason, flooded up to her knees with swirling, murky water. The crew had been frantic, trying to empty it — Fiearius was waving his injured arm and yelling, and Cyrus was nowhere in sight — when things turned for the worst.  Fiearius had turned to her and stated with ghostly knowingness, just like he had in real life: “You can’t bring back the dead.” Continue reading →

Corra looked desperate for an answer.

Unfortunately for her, Leta could not begin to explain what had happened in Goddorra’s office. But she was saved the trouble from trying: suddenly, a flash of movement caught their attention, and their attention snapped forward to see a tall, unsteady red-haired figure staggering up the ramp toward them.

Fiearius. Immediately, Leta exhaled a breath of relief (he’d made it back, how had he made it back?) — but it was short-lived when she saw his wounded arm, drenched in blood. But even worse, was what he did next. Continue reading →

Two fiery-metallic bangs blasted through the small room, one gunshot after the other.  The first came from Fiearius’ gun: he finally silenced Goddora’s sputtering pleas once and for all.

The second shot came from Leta. She saw the gun out there in her hand, but could not believe what she’d done with it.

Before her eyes, the figure of Saviano went rigid. Then, his knees buckled, and with a thud, his body hit the floor. Blood spread over the carpet, more blood than Leta had ever seen, and the crimson liquid crawled toward her feet. Still clutching the weapon, she hazarded a step toward the sprawl of limbs on the floor. Of course he was dead, he had to be dead. But she had to see for herself. Continue reading →

She needed to stop this and she knew it.

With a frustrated growl, Corra reached for her CID and yanked the device out of its slot in the wall. The screen in front of her flickered black before gradually fading back to its default blue glow, inviting new users. As the light washed over her, Corra glanced down at the little stick in her hand. The temptation to reinsert it and load up her console one more time, just in case, was nearly overwhelming. Maybe this time, it said. Maybe if she just checked one more time. Continue reading →

Take her to him.

As soon as Goddora made the order, the office fell expectantly silent. Leta started to rise out of her chair, more than ready to finish this job. However, across the room, it could not have been more obvious that Saviano was displeased with Fiearius’ taking control of the deal. The man’s grip tightened on his glass and he regarded Fiearius with his jaw considerably firm. He did not, Leta realized, believe that she was actually a doctor.

“How convenient to bring a surgeon to a weapons-trade,” he commented, stiff, sarcastic and not yet moving to follow Goddora’s order. “And an alpha-planet surgeon at that. Land that tin-can of yours on alpha planets often, do you, Fiearius? I thought that was a no-no of yours?” His eyebrows shot up into his hairline, but he did reach back and open the door for them.
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The Dionsyian touched ground of the planet early the next day. Before Leta could talk herself out of it, she walked through the halls to meet Fiearius outside of his ship. He was leaning against the door mechanism, absently spinning a small pistol around his finger.

She could hardly believe what she was about to agree to. But what choice did she have anymore? She’d run out of options.

Leta could still remember, in perfect clarity, the very last time she’d seen her fiance. It had been a strange afternoon.
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Two pairs of feet pounded down the grated metal stairs as Leta stalked with Cyrus to — of all ridiculous places — the Dionysian’s armory. Leta didn’t even know the ship had an armory (why would she?), but, according to the captain, it was of utmost important that she go there, equip herself with a gun and learn to fire it immediately. Because apparently she was joining him off-ship. Why, exactly, she could not fathom. I want you to teach what’s-her-face over there how not to kill herself, Fiearius had said, because I’m taking her instead. Continue reading →

At first, Leta did not know where she was.

She cracked her eyes open and blinked the sleep from them. Overhead, the metallic, rusty-oranged ceiling swam into view. The Dionsyian. The criminal runaway ship. That’s where she was.

So yesterday hadn’t been a dream after all. Continue reading →

The Dionysian’s infirmary was far too quiet, Leta thought. Where was that organized chaos of her clinic? The metal med carts thrown around, the barking orders in the emergency room, the streams of people pushing through the hallway? This infirmary was silent and still as a deep cave. And she’d caused that silence as soon she’d made that confession. I should explain a few things. Now, she did not particularly want to follow through. But if there was a chance, the slightest chance, that this crazed crew knew something … Continue reading →

It took only a single glance at the captain’s shoulder to see how horribly the gunshot wound was infected. His flesh was dozen shades of putrid purple and needed attention nine days ago. And yet, the ship’s medical infirmary, Leta came to see, had hardly been used.

It was a rectangle room, far away on the low deck, the size of an average living room, ghostly quiet and lowly-lit. Perhaps the space had once been clean and bright, but that must have been decades ago. Now every cabinet and surface in this room was aged, yellowing and covered in dust. Not to mention outdated. After staring at the rusting countertops for a moment, Leta looked to the captain at her side for explanation.

He had no explanation. Continue reading →