Page 10 of Black Star
Epilogue
Black Star had never felt so empty. Damon had just put the last crewmember aboard the ship that would take them back to Vok’nair. He had no doubt a bounty would be issued for him as soon as his crew arrived. The king would not be forgiving in this betrayal.
But that was OK. If he had stood up for his friend all those years ago, none of this would be happening. Anything the king saw fit to do to him, he probably deserved.
Only a handful of the Black Star ’s crew remained -- those who were loyal to him and not the Empire -- but he needed a pilot. When he’d requested assistance from the Sword Breaker , they had sent a man only slightly older than Nadira named Ranier. In only a couple of hours, he was handling the helm as if he belonged there. His easygoing manner put the rest of the command crew at ease, and they soon settled into their regular routine. Confident everything was under control, Damon headed back to his quarters to lie down. It had been an exhausting day.
When the door swished open and the lights didn’t automatically come on, Damon went into full battle mode. Something wasn’t right. He stepped carefully around the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, the only illumination coming from starshine through the window. That was when he noticed the oddly shaped lump on his bed.
“Lights,” he barked. The computer complied, and the lump shrieked and sat straight up. In the middle of his bed sat an incredibly thin woman dressed in nothing more than tattered rags. Her long white hair tumbled around her face in a frizzy tangle. Dirt and grease smudged her skin. And she stank.
She must have snuck aboard at the last outpost they’d visited to pick up supplies. Wherever she had come from, she was here now. Probably after a better life for herself.
Well, time would tell if she had made a wise decision. For now, he’d clean her up and feed her. Then they could figure out what came next. Damon had the feeling life was about to get interesting.
He’d just acquired a stowaway.