It was not Cyrus’ first time visiting the Beacon’s engine room, but it was the first time he felt rather nervous about it. After lingering in the doorway and simply listening to the churning of the engine for a few awkward seconds, he summoned his nerve, dove a hand through his hair (he’d spent ten minutes trying to flatten it this morning, without success), and used his other hand to knock on the open metal door.

At once, a blonde-haired woman popped up behind the engine, a rusted pair of pliers in her hand. “Hey!” said Addy in surprise, smiling. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Well — “

Dropping the pliers on the floor with a careless clank, she wound around the engine to greet him, all smiles. “I thought I heard Corra say the Dionysian was headed our way.”

Cyrus laughed, feeling affectionately distracted by the streak of dirt on her forehead. “Well here we are. Here I am. Your way,” he muttered, and then quickly decided he was the most awkward person in the entire span. Continue reading →

Bright light was slowly filling the window — it was the glow of a planet the ship was orbiting — though it didn’t wake Leta just yet. Still curled on her side, forearm draped around a pillow that did not belong to her, she slept on, unaware that her long bare legs were tangled in someone else’s, and that her dark hair was a pool of messy curls overhead.

Soon, the light from the window became impossible to ignore, and the young woman knit her brows together impatiently before cracking one open to half-scowl at the streak of light prodding right into her eyes. Her own bedroom had no such window. But she wasn’t in her bedroom. Continue reading →

“Where the hell are we going now?” Leta hissed under her breath as Fiearius held her by the wrist and led them purposely through the sea of guests. Luckily, everyone seemed too tipsy to pay them mind as they slipped from the main hall and down a deserted corridor that Leta felt certain was off-limits. It was much quieter here, the music and laughter of the party fading behind them.

“Upstairs,” came Fiearius’ vague reply as he turned for a carpeted staircase. Annoyed as she was to be left entirely in the dark, Leta had to admit there was something nostalgic about this sneaking around.

Continue reading →

The main marketplace of Tarin was more vibrant and colorful than Leta even remembered – crowded with shoppers, food carts, vendors, bright window displays. The last time Leta had visited this place, this square had been empty save for three drunk friends, yelling and laughing, slumped over the fountain …

It was a happy memory, but nothing could stem the paranoia and concern flowing through Leta’s chest. She weaved through the sea of people, purpose in her step. Gripped in her hand was a crumbled piece of paper, a note, that Fiearius had left her. Fiearius, of all people.

She’d discovered the note on the desk in her room, right after the ship had landed this morning. The landing was odd in itself: the Dionysian had been bound for Archeti just yesterday. Leta had even made plans to meet Corra there since the Beacon also had business on the planet. Yet they had suddenly landed on Tarin with no explanation or warning, only a short cryptic note that read in its entirety:

North east side of the squar.
-F Continue reading →

With a tremendous bang, the double doors to the bank were thrown open as Finn and Corra kicked them in together. The dramatic entry wasn’t actually necessary, even for a good old-fashioned bank robbery, but Corra simply couldn’t help herself: it felt just like the movies.

“Everybody down!” she yelled, raising guns in each hand.

“Don’t move,” added Finn, “and no one gets hurt — ” Continue reading →

Cyrus didn’t particularly like begging. But he wasn’t above it.

Grimacing with desperation, he gripped the surface of the clerk’s counter, trying to catch the eye of the mechanic shop owner who had his back turned to him. “My ship’s not that big,” he was saying, keeping his voice casual but convincing — Fiearius was always so much better at this smooth-talking shit than he was. “It’s a small cargo vessel. I just need a place to store it for a few days.”

The gray-haired mechanic grunted, seized a tool box and hauled it away. “That’s what docks are for, kid.”

“No, that’s just it.” Cyrus quickly weaved around the counter to follow after him. “I need a place hidden, to store the ship for a week or so. It won’t cause trouble. I promise. It would just be better if, ah, a certain military base couldn’t see it. If you catch my drift.” Continue reading →

It was not a conversation Corra wanted to have, but it had to be done. She had to do it, no matter how badly it hurt. She had to. With heavy dread sitting on her shoulders, she knocked on the hatch to Cyrus’ room and slowly tilted it open.

Across the room, Cyrus was hunched over a screen, and she found herself staring at the back of his neck for a few seconds before saying, “Hey. You busy?”

He seemed rather involved in whatever it was he was doing and Cyrus was not the kind of man who enjoyed being interrupted. But to her surprise, Cyrus spun around in his chair and actually smiled at her, a sight that actually made her heart lift. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the overworked and overtired Dionysian’s temporary captain in a cheerful mood.

“Nah, just doing a bit of freelance,” he explained shortly, gesturing at the console before him which displayed the blueprint of a ship she did not recognize. For the moment, she forgot her troubles. Continue reading →

The infirmary lay still and quiet that afternoon, entirely empty save for the one person who had taken up near-permanent residence in the bed. Fiearius slouched back against the pillows, his eyes closed. He was somewhere between awake and dreaming, though he hadn’t felt rested in over a month …

Then, through the fog of his sleep, he heard distant voices near the doorway. Probably it was Leta, another visit from his ever-diligent doctor. In a hoarse voice, he muttered, “Please, for the love of the gods, not another walking lesson,” and gingerly opened his eyes.

But it wasn’t Leta at the foot of his bed. It was Cyrus, looking apologetic, and at his side — of all people — stood Dez. Continue reading →

Carthis was the coldest place Corra had ever visited. Slick ice covered the paths, tree branches sagged under the weight of snow, and icy wind nipped her hands, which she hastily stuffed in her pockets as she walked beside Finn away from the rehab center.

Worry sat in her chest, like a lead weight. Ren had gone quietly and agreeably when they checked him into the center last night. He hadn’t said a word until the very end, when he turned to Corra and thanked her softly. Then he added, “Will you tell her I’m sorry, please?”

And just like that, he was gone: the officer shook hands with Finn, then with Corra, and promised constant updates on Ren’s condition. They said they could visit as often as they liked. Now, hours later, Corra was quiet and restless on the walk back to the Beacon. She kept close to Finn, purposely letting him block the wind for her. Continue reading →

Leta had never moved so quickly.

The moment Ren made his confession — I contacted the Society, I told them where we are — she shot up to her feet, threw open the door and dodged into the hallway, leaving Ren sitting on her bed. “Stay here, don’t move,” she heard herself bark over her shoulder as she sprinted toward the cargo bay, heart pounding in her throat.

Her feet pounded down the metal ramp and out into the dirt road — she had to get to Cyrus. She had to get him and then they had to leave — they had to go anywhere, it didn’t matter where —

She’d only made it fifty yards from the Dionysian when suddenly, a sharp wind gusted past her ears, followed by a roar of noise. A shadow passed over the ground around her feet. And then she looked up: in the air, blasting overhead, were three sleek, jet-black fighter ships, low to the ground, readying to land mere miles away.

On each ship was the shining Society librera. Continue reading →