“Make sure you do. And bring some birds.”
She waved and disappeared behind the metal door, then gave him a minute to scale the ramp into his ship before she fired up the thrusters. Once he was safely inside the open cargo hold, her shuttle lifted off and spun to face southwest before speeding away. He watched the craft grow smaller in the distance until it faded from view. Afterward, he waited there for a full five minutes, expecting her to return.
She didn’t.
While moving through the ship’s narrow hallways, he told himself this wasn’t really good-bye. Assuming he cleared the charges against him, his work for Spaulding Fuel would send him to the far reaches of the galaxy, occasionally to the fringe, where new elements were discovered every day. It was completely within the realm of possibility that he could find her on Vega.
But then he imagined what that visit might look like.
She would probably have a new circle of friends by then, a place within the budding community of outcasts and runaways. What would he have in common with any of them? And what if she had a guy in her life? Doran felt a sharp tug in his chest when he pictured her with someone else.
Whatever, he thought. I’ll worry about that later.
He reached the cockpit and searched the hidden compartment beneath the floor until he found a sack of fuel chips. After tossing a handful of chips in his pocket, he returned the rest to the cubbyhole and booted up the ship’s navigational equipment. His father hadn’t told him anything about his destination other than You’ll know what to do when you get there, so Doran entered the coordinates and sat in the pilot’s seat to read the results.
The map displayed a nameless moon-sized planet located at least a day’s journey beyond the farthest fringe settlement. Classified only by its chart number, the tiny planet orbited too far from its sun to support human life, which meant it would never qualify for terraformation. Doran had seen worlds like these, nothing more than useless boulders in orbit. Why would his father send him to a place like that? For a new element, perhaps?
There was only one way to find out.
He’d just plotted a basic navigational course when, from outside, a ship’s engine rumbled with enough force to vibrate his control panel. He shifted his focus out the front window, and what he saw made his stomach hit the floor.
The Enforcers had found him.
An armed Solar League vessel twice the size of his ship hovered above the dunes, its thrusters blowing clouds of ebony sand in every direction. For a fraction of a second, it occurred to Doran that someone had betrayed him, but then his mind shut to all coherent thought outside of escape. His hands flew into action, powering on the ship’s engines and auxiliary systems. The thrusters on either side of his craft rumbled to life, ready for takeoff, and he grasped the wheel with trembling fingers.
As if anticipating his move, the Enforcers fired two perfectly aimed blasts that turned his thrusters to useless shards of metal.
The impact shook Doran out of his seat, and before he could gasp, he was on the floor with a chorus of fire alarms blaring from above. Tendrils of smoke crept and curled inside the cockpit, poisoning the air and forcing him to belly-crawl to the rear exit.
Fed by canned oxygen, the fire shot like lightning through the walls and shorted the electrical system. By the time Doran reached the rear hatch, not even the emergency lights were operational. Blindly, he felt for the hatch’s manual lever and hauled the door open. Blazing sunlight spilled inside, along with a gust of hot air and a face full of sand.
He stumbled outside, shielding his eyes from the desert’s assault while he spun in a circle to search for a safe haven. Logically, he knew there was no place to hide, but it took several moments for his eyes to get the message. He tried telling himself this was for the best, that eventually someone would’ve caught up with him—better the Enforcers than the Daeva or Demarkus Hahn. At least now he’d make it back to Earth in one piece, maybe even receive a fair trial.
By the time the Enforcers touched down, Doran almost believed his own lies.
But then he noticed another craft bearing toward him, so high in the sky that he had to squint to make it out. The colossus sailed nearer, blocking the sun while remaining just outside the planet’s gravitational pull. Even from so far away, Doran recognized the battered ship, bigger than a lowland giant and twice as ugly—much like the pirate at its helm. Its belly opened and belched out half a dozen shuttles, which flew like arrows in his direction.
Doran sat back on the dune, not bothering to run. The kohl sand scorched his backside, and he dismissed that, too. Because no matter what he did, his ass was cooked.