Page 108 of Star-Crossed Captive
Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to wait for the last transport. It wasn’t possible to take a step and not bump into someone. Nia hugged her palette to her chest, trying to stay out of the way as she searched for the correct ship. The mass of bodies moved at a crawl’s pace.
“What’s the hold up?” A voice asked from behind her, speaking Common. She turned slightly to see a portly man wearing a dark green suit, his pale skin reddening in agitation.
“There are medical crews readying to go toOrion,” said a woman wearing a feathered, yellow hat, the matching striped dress hard to look at for too long. “I think it’s just a matter of waiting for them to be organized, then the line will move again.”
Nia continued on, reading the hull numbers on the ships, searching for hers, then paused when a group of doctors clad in their white jackets walked toward her. She scanned their faces, wondering if she knew any from the time she’d spent onOrion. When her eyes rested on someone familiar, her heart leaped. But confusion quickly set in.
How did she know that man? He wasn’t from her med bay, but she definitely recognized him from somewhere. The group passed by, and his gaze landed on her, eyes widening almost imperceptibly in recognition before his placid expression returned.
Nia stopped, her heart beginning to race with perplexing dread. How did she know him? He’d recognized her too, but acted like he hadn’t. Her mind ran through every medical officer she’d met but drew a blank. She didn’t know him from her life before, did she? FromElara Fiveor theDiligence? Or even Medical Academy?
Then, it clicked. The day in the engine core, when Commander Foley had threatened her. She’d seen a man doing maintenance in the engine core when she’d looked over the side.Thatman. In the wake of the events, she hadn’t thought of him again.
But he’d been wearing a maintenance uniform. And he’d been alone.
Mace had told it was an inside job, that they’d blown the engine cores at the same time. When those mind moles were inside her head, he’d asked her why Foley had found her there that day.
Swallowing, Nia turned, looking over her shoulder at the group of doctors. The man had stopped too, the rest of the medical crew continuing past him. He stared at her with a cold, detached expression on his face. It reminded her of the way Justice had stared at her.
Her heart pounded a warning in her head, drowning out all the other noise in the hangar. When he took a step in her direction, Nia spun around, her breath catching in her throat.
He was a traitor.An agent.She’d been the only one to see him in the engine core. Her feet moved quickly, winding in and out of the people as fast as possible. He’d kill to keep her information quiet. She could scream, shout for help, but Mace’s warnings hung heavy in her mind.
Nia darted to the side, through a line waiting for a transport. People grumbled as she pushed her way through, trying to flee from the man who’d been responsible for the deaths of so many.
And he’s returning toOrionas a medical officer.
She needed to tell Mace. He was the only one who would know what she was talking about, the only safe person on this ship. Was he still on board?
Her palette tight in her fingers, she lifted it to contact him, but stepped the wrong way. A woman moving her arm smacked it out her hand. Nia’s chest lurched as it flew into the air.
The woman said something in Tellusian, her tone apologetic. Waving her comment aside, Nia turned, searching for where it had fallen. Her eyes landed on the man pursuing her. He was way too close, only a few meters away. Her palette lay at his feet. He bent to snatch it, his eyes never leaving her.
Spinning around, Nia left all pretense of being polite behind, and charged through the crowd, her only intent to get away from this man who looked like he could hurt her without feeling an ounce of remorse. Bodies jostled; people unknowingly stepped in her way. She squeezed between them, bumping and pushing. Someone shouted something behind her, but she didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, her momentum focused on escape.
Her heart pounded as she neared an exit. The crowd thinned, and her stomach lurched. It wouldn’t be a good idea to leave the safety of numbers, but she couldn’t stop now. Her feet wouldn’t let her. The door slid open as she neared, and she stumbled into a deserted corridor.
With no clue as to where it led, she took off at a run, the gray bulkheads whizzing by her. Nausea rising, she chanced a glance over her shoulder when she neared a corner. The man paused outside the door to the hangar, hands empty of her palette. Nia tripped, then righted herself, turning to sprint.
Why was there no one around? This was a Destroyer, shouldn’t it be full of people? Maybe it was because all the civilians had left already, taking earlier transports like rational, sane people, while she and the rest of the last-minute-idiots scrambled.
There had to be another way to contact Mace. If nothing else, she’d return to his quarters and wait for him—as long as she could lose the man following her.
Not looking behind her, she turned another corner, then another, getting more and more disoriented.
When a stitch stabbed her side, she stopped and bent over, gasping for breath. Had she lost him? The corridor behind her was empty, a lift nearby. If she went to another deck, it would be harder to follow. Hopefully, she could find other people. Someone might tell her how to get in touch with Mace without her palette.
The hairs on her neck stood on end. Nia straightened. The man stepped into sight ahead of her at the other end of the corridor. Panic squeezed her throat. She stumbled, and turned to run, passing the lift and trying to retrace her random route. Could she find her way back to the hangar and onto her transport? Maybe find her palette wherever he left it? Getting off this ship seemed the best way to escape the traitor following her, but she needed her palette to make her connections.
She’d taken two turns by the time she realized she’d gone a different route and was thoroughly lost. A narrow corridor caught her eye.
With one last glance over her shoulder, she escaped through it, the metal corner scraping into shoulder as she made the quick turn. A hum pulled her forward. She tripped into a vast space. A more compact version ofOrion’senergy core towered in front of her, the helix narrower, the rotation faster.
Scrambling, Nia followed the railing around, looking for a place to hide. She needed the man to stop pursuing her, then she could find her way back to the hangar and her palette.
The agent stepped in front of her. Nia screamed, stumbling back. Spinning around, she searched frantically for the nearest escape, a corridor like the one she’d come through. A hand gripped her nape with such strength, her body jerked in the opposite direction. She reached, trying to break free, but his fingers dug into the sides of her throat so tightly it felt like he seared holes into her skin. Her limbs thrashed as he shook her, brain rattling in her head. She couldn’t breathe. The railing of the engine core slammed into her stomach. Stars dotted her vision.
She might have heard someone shout from far away, but she wasn’t sure. A sense of weightlessness consumed her as her body was forced over the railing. Then she was falling, falling, falling…Thwack. Her side hit something hard, her breath leaving her body. Her hand reached, trying to stop her descent.Thwack. She hit something else, a flash of light blinding her. Another solid object slammed into her ribs.
