He did as she asked. There was no bolt, so he removed his jacket and tied the sleeves in a sloppy knot around the door handles. It wouldn’t hold the crew if they decided to follow, but it might slow them down a bit.
They jogged to the hangar, where Solara ordered the guard to remain inside the control room and open the hatch after they’d boarded their shuttle. She pointed to a box mounted on the hangar ceiling and warned, “If anything goes wrong, I’ll start taking shots at your air pump. Are we clear?”
Four-Eyes set his jaw and nodded.
“And since we obeyed your laws, there’s no reason to follow.”
“No one will come after you,” the guard said, then glared at her and clarified, “Today.”
That was good enough for Doran. He ran to the shuttle and climbed through the passenger door. “You’ll have to fly,” he told Solara. He could barely see well enough to fasten his safety harness. “Try not to break my other arm.”
She took the pilot’s seat and flipped on the ignition. “I told you. I can fly just fine.”
“And land?”
“Shh,” she dismissed him while lifting off. “One crisis at a time.”
Solara held her breath as she eased the shuttle toward the Banshee’s docking station. She cast a longing glance at the switch to dispatch the magnetic tow cables, wishing she could use them to pull her into position. But Doran had insisted that she land on her own. You’ll do fine, he’d said. If you can hold a room full of pirates at gunpoint, then you can land a two-person craft.
She gripped the wheel and asked, “How’s this?”
Doran peered out the side window. “Good. Now tap your starboard thruster to bring us around a bit.”
She did as he’d suggested. The shuttle rotated into perfect alignment and drifted near the ship. A few slow seconds later, the shuttle nested into place with a slight jolt that shook Solara and Doran in their seats. An automatic smile formed on Solara’s lips. She’d performed her first landing without breaking any bones.
“I did it!”
“Told you,” Doran gloated while unbuckling his harness. He opened the side hatch and pointed at the propellant cell. “Let’s celebrate inside. I’d like to put a few solar systems behind us before morning.”
“Good plan,” she agreed. They’d kicked a hornet’s nest tonight, and the Brethren didn’t strike her as the forgiving sort. Still, her chin lifted as she followed Doran inside the ship. She felt more like an action hero than a mechanic. She wished Sister Agnes could see her now.
The bounce in Doran’s step told her he was riding the same high, but she had no idea exactly how high until he spun around and scooped her into a hug that lifted both her boots off the floor. She stiffened while his laughter rang in her ears, a sound of pure exhilaration she’d never heard from him before, not even during football season at the academy. His reaction forced a giggle out of her, and she told herself the tingly sensation unfurling inside her belly was nothing more than adrenaline.
“We were amazing back there,” he said, and set her down. He kept both hands on her hips and pulled back to look at her through one swollen eye. “Can you believe it?”
At the sight of him in the overhead lighting, her smile died and her tingles morphed into sympathy pains. The darkness inside the shuttle had concealed the extent of his injuries, but now she could see that his eyes were nothing more than slits, and the bottom half of his face was covered in a macabre beard of dried blood. She could only imagine how badly he would hurt once the rush wore off.
Guilt swam over her. This was her fault.
“Do I look that bad?” he asked.
She winced as a cut reopened in his lower lip, but then she reminded herself that Doran’s happiness was the only silver lining in this cloud. He’d done something remarkable tonight, shown more bravery than she’d ever thought possible, and she refused to rob him of that. “I hate to break it to you,” she said. “But you’re not the prettiest girl in the room anymore.”
He chuckled. “Give me time.”
“Go ahead and laugh.” She studied the crooked angle of his nose, which was undoubtedly broken. “Because you’re going to feel this in the morning.”
“Hell, I feel it now,” he said, bringing a hand to his ribs. “But who cares? I actually knocked him out. First person to challenge Demarkus in five years, and I won.”
Her heart twisted at the memory of Doran lying on the floor, blood pouring from his mouth while she watched helplessly from outside the ring. She hadn’t known it was a trick. She’d thought he was dead, and fear had gutted her like a fish. The flashback made her vision go blurry, so she dropped her gaze to his boots. Even those were smeared with red. “Sorry for doubting you.”
“Well, don’t sound so excited,” he muttered. “All I did was bring down a giant with my bare hands.”
“A giant who could have killed you.” She glanced up to find him frowning at her. “All because I put on that stupid necklace.”