The hatch closed, and she settled into the pilot’s seat, still struggling to breathe.
“Communication check.” Lundric’s deep, calm voice spoken directly in her ear made her jump. She adjusted the helmet and touched her comms unit. “Loud and clear, Captain.”
“You’re clear to take off whenever you’re ready.”
She forced herself to take deep, steadying breaths as she flicked on the control board and started the engine.
Goodbye, Lundric. I love you.
~.~
He was surprised at how nervous Cambry seemed. His little rebel was always so self-possessed, so brave. It made his heart squeeze to see her unnerved. His instinct to fight her monsters, to shield her from anything frightening her made it hard to shove her in the ship and send her off alone. But he’d seen her exhilaration every time she flew. His rebel was born to fly, to fight. His need to protect couldn’t hold her back.
He sat in the loading dock to watch her flight from the viewing screen.
“Battleship 3 taking off.” She used the proper communication protocol they’d taught the trainees. The battleship lifted into a hover then ascended gently.
“Beautiful takeoff, Cambry. Now fly in a circle around the planet.”
“Copy that, Captain.” Her voice sounded choked.
Alarm bells started sounding in his head. Something was off with his female. He should have read it sooner.
“Thank you...for everything.” Her voice cracked, and the communication went dead.
“Cambry, what the stars—?” No.
Battleship 3 shot out of the atmosphere and into hyperdrive, vanishing from his sight. Oh veck no. He ran for hatch, not bothering to finish putting his helmet on before he barreled out into the toxic atmosphere of Shooku. What the veck? No, no, no.
Cambry left me.
As he ran for a battleship, fear zinged through him, ricocheting off his ribs and chest, plowing through his gut, tearing his insides to shreds. She couldn’t have run off. And yet he knew with absolute certainty she had.
That thank you had really been goodbye. She’d been choked up. He’d given her an opportunity to run, and she’d taken it. She’d probably been planning this from the start. She’d been using him to her advantage while she bided her time, waiting to escape.
A horrible metallic taste coated his tongue. It tasted of betrayal. Abandonment. Like his mother, Cambry hadn’t found him worth staying for. But he had no time to wallow in his own emotional issues. He fired up a battleship and launched it into space. Because the battleships were part of the same fleet, Battleship 3’s coordinates showed up on his screen. He programmed her location as his flight path and punched the hyperdrive, following her out of the atmosphere of Shooku, toward Ocretia.
Why in the stars was she running back there? It wasn’t safe for his female. If any being scanned her barcode and identified her, she’d immediately be put to death.
And that was only half the crisis. His stomach churned. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t allow Cambry to leave. In addition to putting her life at risk, her presence in Ocretion territory would also put the Zandians’ entire mission in grave danger. If any being discovered her, it would be known their death pod had not crashed into a smuggler’s ship, as they’d circulated. Prince Zander would have to run or fight Ocretia, which would divert all his resources from the real fight of winning back Zandia.
No, Cambry couldn’t go free, and since he was the fool she’d played, it was his responsibility to bring her back. What an idiot he’d been—believing she cared about him. She’d been just another treacherous human in a difficult position, and she’d used him to get out of it.
He had to bring her back. Prince Zander would be furious. The thought of anyone imprisoning or harming her made his knuckles turn white on the controls. No, there was no way in the galaxy he’d allow any being to touch her. He would take responsibility for her, whether she liked it or not.
He emerged from the hyperthrust right behind Cambry. She swerved and dipped, the ship only wobbling marginally before she righted it.
Good girl.
Even now, he couldn’t stop feeling proud for how vecking brilliant his human was. And she was still his human, even after what she’d done. He chased her, needing to get close enough to use the magnetic ray on her ship. She dropped down and halted, sending him flying past her. He cut to the right to make a tight circle. She hadn’t fired on him. She’d had a perfect shot and had failed to take it. Although his treacherous heart squeezed, certain it meant she cared for him, he chased those thoughts back. She’d used him and left. He meant nothing to her.
And her hesitation to fire was her downfall, because now he had her. He flew low over the top of her ship and dropped down, sending the magnetic beam of energy to capture her ship. It slowed the velocity of both ships, his engine whining with the effort of dragging double its weight through space. Even so, he used hyperdrive because the risk of being seen in Ocretion territory greatly outweighed the danger of blowing out his engine. It worked; the short burst of extreme speed flung them back to just outside Shooku’s atmosphere. Shooku, the uninhabitable planet where Rok and Prince Zander had forced the Death Pod down, lay just outside Ocretion territory, where few travelers would ever stray.
He steadied the controls as they broke through, and managed to land her ship without crushing it beneath his own or dropping it from too high an altitude.
He should request backup. The moment he released the magnetic ray to land his own craft, she could simply take off again. But he didn’t want any other being involved. Thankfully, she didn’t run, and he didn’t even want to begin puzzling over why. He dropped his battleship to the ground and pulled on his helmet before charging out to catch his wayward rebel.
~.~