Midnight’s Shadow (Book 2 of the Star Runner Saga)
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It’s been months since the traumatic and life-altering events on Sulis. Wallace hasn’t been the same and Taran has spent her nights in an empty bed. When a stranger offers her the opportunity to pilot the extraordinary Spyridon—Taran refuses. There’s too much emotional turmoil in her life right now and the less complications, the better.
But Wallace has other ideas and seizes the opportunity without her knowledge. He deliberately sacrifices the one thing Taran loves unconditionally—Eidolon.
Now Taran finds herself captain of a starship that legend paints as haunted. Nothing is as it seems on a ship that appears to have a mind of its own. Forced to accept the consequences before her, Taran will have to put her faith in a man she doesn’t trust as she tries to win back the love of the man she does.
Playlist:
I Stand Alone ~ Godsmack
Yours to Hold ~ Skillet
Running Away ~ Hoobastank
The Ghost Of You ~ My Chemical Romance
Cold (But I’m Still Here) ~ Evans Blue
Undisclosed Desires ~ Muse
Together Again ~ Evanescence
My, My, My ~ Rob Thomas
Warrior ~ Disturbed
Heaven Out of Hell ~ Elisa
Chapter One
If Wallace didn’t kill us, I’d kill him myself.
Bright laser lights streaked across the screen and the ship rocked from the impact. I swore and tapped the helm controls in front of me before I grabbed the side of it as another blast shook the deck-plates beneath my feet. At this rate, we were going to either die in a hail of gunfire or shake to death.
Personally, I didn’t like either option as I’d done the whole at-death’s-doorstep bit already. Twice. Death didn’t suit me.
“Dammit, Wallace,” I said through gritted teeth. At this rate, someone would need to go check for any breaches in the hull. “Do something.”
The volume and ferocity of his swears matched, then surpassed mine as he fought with the main helm wheel. “I need more power.”
“I haven’t got any to give you.” Even as I said it, I started to bypass less critical systems and tried to find another tactic to use because I refused to crack into life support. The bridge lights flickered twice and we both made automatic adjustments to counter the power surge. “You’ve got three wicked pixies and four regular missiles, not to mention one fighter hot on your tail.”
“We’re going to go vertical on these sons o’ bitches,” he barked out. “See if we can’t loop around and take out the lone fighter first. Then we’ll deal with the rest.”
The choice of flight pattern was wrong and I gritted my teeth to keep from correcting him. The group of three was easier to deal with. If you were a good shot, you could get more than one fighter at a time and conserve any dwindling weapon supply. In a fight, that was always a good thing. To shoot wildly at a lone fighter was a waste of time, energy and resources–all things we already had in short supply.
Despite my reservations, I made the changes he requested and waited for further instructions. I wasn’t here to fly, only to teach and offer assistance, nothing more. Whatever I was supposed to do–it was damn hard to keep doing it.
As expected, the fighters adjusted accordingly for Wallace’s maneuver and we now had even bigger problems. “Enemy is making course corrections and firing weapons. Three fighters are incoming, port side, screaming like a virgin having her first orgasm.”
“Hang on.” Wallace jerked the controls to the right and I wrapped my hand around the left side of my control panel to keep myself in the seat as the ship tilted. The fighters made the same corrections and continued to arrow for us with deadly accuracy.
Wallace’s focus held firm on the helm in front of him. I seized the opportunity and quickly tapped a sequence into the computer with my thumb as discretely as I could. An alarm blared in response and I overrode it with a quick key combination to shut it down. Shit, I’d hoped to make the correction without setting off the alarm.
My cheeks heated as Wallace cut his eyes to me and his lips bowed down into a deep frown. “I don’t need your help. Change it back.”
I reversed the combination even before he finished his demand because I realized my mistake. He wanted to do this on his own, but I could only stand to watch him struggle for so long. Wallace was out to prove himself and my covert piloting flew in the face of that.
My fingers hovered over the panel in front of me and I studied the reports that quickly scrolled past. “I can divert forty percent of the gravity control system for you but that’s all I can manage. Anymore and I’ll start cutting into the life support. I don’t know about you, but I’m particularly fond of breathing.”
“What about the recirculation systems? Can you bypass it and re-route the life support that way?”
At his request, I studied the systems in front of me and felt the motion of the ship change as he made a course correction. We continued to barrel forward with the small IGP fighters still tailing us. “Some, but I don’t know how much it will help.”
“Do it,” he ordered firmly.
I nodded and started to make the changes, hopeful they’d make a difference. Midway through, the computer in front of me shut down completely and I slammed my hand down on it in frustration. The screen flickered once then went completely dead.
Harness straps clanked loudly against the back of the seat as I threw them off and pushed away from the dead console in order to sprint around Wallace to the starboard controls. I plopped down into the seat, ignored the restraints at the side as I keyed up the sequence he ordered. Within thirty seconds, it was entered and my finger hovered over the control in wait.
“Initiate it.”
The ship shook violently as he pulled back on the helm control to shoot vertical. Panic caused me to scramble to get the harness locked around my waist as I cursed myself for not engaging it earlier. The controls in front of me displayed the gravity of our situation.
“They’re still hot on our tail. Engines holding steady for the moment. I imagine not for long though,” I added through clenched teeth. I had my suspicions about what would happen next.
Something hit us on the port side and I examined the panel in front of me to see what happened as the ship bucked from the force. Another Calibur class fighter that hadn’t shown up on my scans hit the aft engines–which were on the brink of failure. I scowled and immediately started to re-route the systems in order to compensate but it didn’t seem to help. While I had a very skilled touch, it was geared more toward flying than efficiently compensating for damage.
Everything stilled around us, which was a bad sign. While it meant the impact had finished shuddering through the hull, the cessation of sound also meant the engines were completely gone.
“At least the shaking stopped,” I said wryly as my body went limp in defeat and my head came to rest on the controls. I’d gotten to be a real pro at the whole ‘crash a spaceship’ deal. Honestly, it was not something to excel in. You’d think I’d learn to avoid it by now, but that didn’t seem likely given my history and the current situation.
Wallace let loose a string of violent words that caused me to flinch and as I lifted my head, my eyes cut to the narrow opening just above the large screen in front of us. His tirade ceased and he shouted my name a few times in order to gain my attention.
I glanced his way and saw the tight set of his mouth and the shake in his shoulders as he tried to muscle the controls into submission. “Taran, some help would be nice.”
My hands lifted in defeat. Even I would have performed horribly under these same conditions. I didn’t have Wallace’s enhanced strength, but he didn’t have my ace flying skills.
I didn’t bother to keep the annoyance from my voice. “Your aft engines are damaged and gone. All you have are the two starboard thrusters and they’ll only spin us around in circles. There is nothing I can do. It’s all on you now.”
He growled in frustration and keyed in sequences with one hand while he continued to struggle with steering. Every combination was met with a low beep to indicate failure and I was fairly certain his teeth ground together in annoyance. I could have told him it was futile, but he obviously needed to figure it out on his own.
“Can you override these controls?”
“Wallace, this isn’t Eidolon.” Never had I missed my former ship so much. I knew her controls better than I knew myself. Thisunderused, underpowered piece of shit was not high in my knowledge base and despite the fact it looked like Eidolon, the two couldn’t be further apart. “The safety controls are still engaged and there’s nothing either you or I can do to override them.” I folded my arms across my chest as the screen turned a garish red color–the sign of a thorough kill.
Wallace threw the helm control forward as he pushed himself away from it. In contrast, I pushed away from the station I’d been sitting at as gently as possible, stood and slid my hands into the pocket of my pants. If nothing else, it would keep me from finding someone to throttle.
Wallace folded his hands behind his neck and blew out a heavy breath as he stared up at the overhead. My eyes cut to the small opening over the screen again and gave a slight nod because we were as good as dead. There was no need to rub salt in the wound. The dull red glow of the screen was enough. The replica of the bridge we stood on slowly faded and we now stood in a vast, empty room as the simulation program ended.
Wallace dropped his head forward and sighed heavily in frustration. From the set of his shoulders, it was easy to see that he was disappointed in himself. It was a feeling I understood all too well as I felt the same about myself.
Maybe I pushed too hard or maybe even not enough. To find the balance between backing off and encouragement was harder than I thought. As I watched the troubled man I loved, I began to second-guess my own abilities as a pilot.
The last thing he needed to hear was how I doubted myself. What he needed was some form of support in his abilities despite his recent failure.
“Wallace, it’s okay.” I walked around behind him and started to fold my hand over his shoulder. “Even I would have–” I stopped as he stepped away from my touch and walked out of the room without a glance in my direction.
The doors slid closed and I swore softly into the emptiness. My gaze fell on the high window that was the only solid feature of the room. With no flight training simulation programmed to run, I looked through the glass to the lone occupant of the room.
“Reece!”
* * * *
The laser slicer in my hand flickered and gave off a high whine of protest. I tapped it a few times on the underbelly of the hull and the handheld device shut off entirely. I shook it with the hope it was just a crossed wire or two and the movement would encourage the wires to uncross. It defied logic, but common sense and I didn’t seem to be the best of friends.
At this point, I’d try anything.
The device flared to life again and as I reached above my head to cut through the waterlogged ventilation tubing, someone walked across the deck above my head. Rust and debris rained down on me and I dropped the slicer in order to shield my eyes. While I managed to avoid most of the unidentifiable flakes of junk, I couldn’t avoid the slicer and it caught my ankle as it fell. It burned through the thin fabric of my pants and even the heavier material of my boots before it met my flesh.
I cried out in shock and kicked away the laser, frowned when it sliced through a few vital pieces of equipment. The scent of burned wires caused me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. Yet more crap I was going to have to fix. So far, everything I touched lately had been a big, fat waste of time.
From coolant lines with pinholes too small for the human eye to see and immediately drained the fluid just dumped into it, to the propulsion oil that blew back in your face when you tried to fire the system up.
I wondered why I even bothered.
Wallace appeared then, tromped down the folding ladder we used for access to the inside of the ship while at the shipyard. He swung around as he reached the bottom and scooped up the offending slicer and tapped it off with the palm of his hand. The beam vanished as it, of course, was in perfect working order now and he set the small handheld device on one of the toolboxes beside him.
I scowled and dropped to the ground to strip off my boot and sock in order to inspect the damage. There was a slice a few inches deep and long across my ankle that ran down the side of my foot. Blood welled up and dripped on the dirt. I balled up my sock to try to staunch the flow. It burned, but the heat of the blade seemed to have cauterized most of the veins just under the surface of my skin.
Wallace’s hand closed around my foot and inspected the gash before I managed to slap my damaged sock on the wound. “You need to go see the medical officer and have that looked at.” His finger skimmed over the bottom of my foot and I jumped reflexively at his touch. From the surprised look on his face, it hadn’t been done intentionally.
“It’ll be fine.” I tugged, wanted to put something over the cut before some unidentifiable microscopic germ had a chance to infect it. That would be just my luck.
He didn’t release my foot as his amber eyes met mine. Before he managed to hide it, something odd passed across his expression. Even before his failure in the flight sim three days ago, Wallace was sometimes so distant he was unapproachable. Other times he seemed like a shadow of his former self, while at other times, he was normal.
He’d been that way since the crash on Sulis and I was exhausted from trying to keep up with his moods. There wasn’t a discernable pattern. I knew what the problem was but he wasn’t about to admit to it. He needed help to heal but he had to let me in first and that was something he didn’t seem inclined to do.
Feet shuffled behind Wallace and I started to reach for his hand in order to move my foot away. Despite the fact I wore my gloves, he flinched before I managed to make contact with his flesh and suddenly dropped my foot as if it had burned him.
Wallace stepped away as he shoved his hands into his pockets and I let out a heavy sigh in response. I should keep some kind of tally for all the times he pulled away from me, but I didn’t need the visual reminder. It hurt enough as it was. To see it listed would just make it even more gut-wrenching.
A man stood a short distance away and leaned his lanky form against the ladder Wallace descended earlier. His hair was shaggy and a golden blond color I equated with a hay field that had once been behind my father’s house on Earth. Piercing green eyes shifted back and forth between us, a faint smile played across his lips.
“Sorry to interrupt.” His voice was clear and colored with a bit of an accent I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t what I expected based on his somewhat dirty appearance. It sounded sophisticated and cultured. Yet, he was the very picture of utter filth.
Wallace waved a hand in the air to dismiss the man’s words. “What can I do for you?”
“Looking for a ride and I hear you’ve got the best pilot on the planet over here.”
“Galaxy,” I muttered and pressed the sock down against the cut on my foot.
“Pardon?”
Wallace held back a smile. “She said galaxy.”
“Doesn’t matter to me, mate. I just need someone to fly me somewhere. That looks like it hurts. Can I take a look?” He lowered himself down on one knee and pointed to my injury.
“Why? Do you have some sick fascination with someone else’s pain?”
The man looked at me, then Wallace. “She always this pleasant?”
Wallace shrugged. “Afraid so.”
“Good thing I’ve got an excellent bedside manner.” The stranger’s hands closed around my foot and I jumped at the warm heat against my skin. He poked and prodded lightly at the edges of the cut, but despite the flare of pain, his touch was gentle.
My fascination continued to grow as he pulled some sort of salve out of his bag and dabbed it lightly over the gap in my skin. The sting immediately eased and curbed to a dull ache that was nearly unnoticeable.
“You some sort of medic?”
His hair brushed his shoulders as he shook his head. “I just have a large amount of experience tending to wounds. Mostly my own.” He took the sock from me and tied it around my foot to protect the tended cut. “I have handled enough field injuries to make me qualified in emergency medical care. You could go see a real medic and have it patched up in a few seconds, but if you just keep that on it all day and wash it out tonight, it’ll heal on its own in a day or so.”
I shifted my foot back and forth to admire his work, nodded my head in appreciation. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Now about that ride…”
I wiped the dirt off my hands and gestured to the ship over our heads. “I’m not exactly flying right now.”
“Wait–you’re the pilot?” The stranger asked in surprise as he pointed at me. “What about him?”
“I’m just the pretty packaging, mate, and I’m evidently not as talented as her,” Wallace responded sarcastically. He moved over to the ladder, but stopped short of climbing it. “Taran, I came out to tell you the helm’s repaired. I’m going to start on the chillers back in the engine room.” He cast a curious look at the man before he disappeared into the ship.
Well, the stranger obviously hadn’t sparked any of Wallace’s warning bells if he left me alone with him. Not that I couldn’t handle myself if he tried something, but Wallace would have stuck around if something about the man didn’t sit well with him.
“So, you’re Whittier?” He pointed at me, his eyebrows winged up in surprise. It was easy to see that he thought I was trying to pull one over on him.
“Seems you were given all the information you needed to find me except one obvious piece.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d encountered someone who was surprised I could handle a starship. Since I was a somewhat small Earth woman with pale blonde hair and blue eyes, most men seemed instantly intimidated as soon as they heard what I did for a living. I’d learned a long time ago not to advertise it unless I was actively running cargo for someone else. Freelance jobs weren’t unheard of for star runners but happened less frequently for someone like me. And by that I mean female.
“Morley Slater. Mores for short, if you’re so inclined.”
I wasn’t, but he didn’t seem the type to care. He extended a hand out to me and I flicked my fingers in his direction instead of taking it. I wasn’t interested in touching him even though I had my gloves on. There was no point in perpetuating the habit of an offered hand when I did my best to avoid such a gesture. “Well, thanks for fixing my foot. I’m sure there are a few more pilots in the city that can help you out.”
Morley seemed amused I wouldn’t take his hand and ran his fingers under the strap of the bag slung across his body. “I appreciate that, but I need the best.”
“Sounds familiar,” I muttered, pushed myself up to stand and dusted the dirt off my knees.
“Sorry?” He immediately replied in confusion.
I dismissed my own words and stuffed my foot back into my ruined boot. It caused the pain to flare up again but I managed to keep the wince hidden only because stubborn pride kept me from flinching in front of a total stranger. I’d have to take a trip into the city myself in order to hunt up a new set of footwear because this pair were effectively ruined. Damn shame too, they were the most comfortable–and only–pair I owned.
“Ancient history. My apologies, Morley. I’m a pilot without a ship right now, which won’t get you very far. Probably just be able to guide you to the best bar on the planet and that’s about it. The Kissing Bug, by the way, in case you head back to the city and are looking for–”
“The best bar on the planet, right?” He examined the hull of the ship, even ran his hand along the metal in a gentle caress. It was odd to watch someone else touch her in such an intimate way–one that was usually reserved only for me. “What happened to her?”
Whoever he was, he appreciated his machinery. There had to be some sort of camaraderie in that. I glanced up at the pitted and rusted hull. “Water. Leagues of water. Leagues and leagues of water,” I added as I thought about just how much she’d been under.
He whistled appreciatively. “You go down with her?”
I nodded and immediately banished the reminder of the crash. Things were touchy enough right now without the reminder of that hellish ordeal. Eidolon’s damaged hull was a sight I wanted and loathed to see at the same time. That she had been raised from the sea at all was a miracle. If we ever managed to fix her, it would be a task of epic proportions. Since our job was to keep our heads down and out of IGP sights, taking all the time we needed to fix her wasn’t exactly a problem. “As I said, I’m grounded for a while.”
“What if I could get you a ship?”
I wiped off the blood that had transferred to my hand from the cut and stuffed the rag into one of the pockets on my thigh. “If you own one then why can’t you pilot it yourself?”
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he turned away. “I said I could get one not that I owned one.”
My days of illegal activity were over and done as far as I was concerned. I’d nearly killed three people, myself included, and succeeded in frying a robot the last time I agreed to something like that. I wasn’t about to jump in again so soon. “I’m not interested. Find some other pilot who’s willing to take the risk.”
“A pilot who’s lost her nerve isn’t a pilot anymore.”
As my temper reared its head, I stared at him for a long few moments. The desire to lash out and defend myself was overwhelming because it wasn’t a matter of jittery nerves. He had no right to make a snap judgment when he didn’t know me, especially when he needed a ride. However, it wasn’t his business what grounded me and if I fought back, it meant I cared more than I wished to admit. “I wish you well in your search.”
Scooping up the laser cutter Wallace had set aside, I reached up to continue the work on the hose I’d cut away earlier. It finally broke loose a few minutes later. When I bent over to retrieve it, I realized there was no one else around me.
Morley Slater had vanished.