Page 261 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Da’vi

I should have just ended the call when I told her I would, but I liked hearing her voice.

I hoped she’d sing more, because what I’d overheard had sounded pretty, and I was sad that I’d interrupted her.

I’d hooked up the old com device I could reach her through to my own, which I synced with my translator implants.

That way, I could hear her, but nobody else.

I liked that thought—like she was my private little secret.

Because I’d spent the entire night finishing putting the engine back together, the work remaining in the actual engine room was minimal.

I was pretty sure the Strewn crew could get that done today, even without my help.

So, with Arianna’s com tucked tightly against my chest inside my shirt, I headed for the shield generator one deck up.

I had personally installed it after we’d taken one from an old Star Class Cruiser wreck, with a little help from Jakar.

It was the young Pretorian who was overseeing much of this upgrade, his yellow eyes watching the two Strewn mechanics closely.

“How is it? Almost finished?” I asked as I took in the open panels and the many different components that still littered the floor.

Jakar was not an engineer—he had little training—but he was handy, no pun intended.

“Yes, just another day, I think,” he said, tilting his head so that his black hair slid over his upper shoulders. He’d been growing it out since our escape. “Right, guys?” he asked cheerfully of the two men crouched behind one of the panels.

“Yeah, sounds about right. You still up for drinks later?” one of them answered, and I rolled my eyes.

Trust Jakar to make friends with these guys, he was always friendly, always outgoing.

It was a little tiresome to handle for me sometimes, but I envied him, too.

I was pretty sure Jakar would have been a far more reassuring presence to speak to for Arianna.

I’d scared her when I started talking to her today; I hadn’t meant to do that, I just wanted to know what she was singing.

Turning from the shield generator, I stalked away, tuning my attention to her voice singing softly in my ear.

She liked to sing, just like the unattached female on the Vagabond, Tori.

I liked Arianna’s singing, even if it was just the same little phrase over and over, as if she didn’t know the rest of the song.

I had no clue what she meant when she sang, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” but it sounded sweet.

The shield generator didn’t technically need to be working before we left, but Ziame had demanded that it be; it would make us all feel safer.

If it wasn’t done yet when the mechanics left tonight, I’d finish the job myself.

What really did matter was making sure that our hull was completely restored before we left.

I couldn’t fix that while we were flying at breakneck speed into a dead zone.

For the next few hours, I found myself strapped into a spacesuit, welding plating to the hull of the Vagabond alongside the Strewn outside crew.

I ignored the many inquisitive looks they gave me as I worked, aware that this was pretty unusual for them.

They were probably talking about me on their private comm channel, but I didn’t care.

This work needed to get done, and my hands would make the work go faster.

It surprised me when Eoin walked out, followed by Jakar—both strapped into their own spacesuits—after I’d already been working for an hour. I’d been straining myself hard, and Ziame’s tail blow had definitely cracked some ribs. I was feeling them, but I had no time for the Doc yet.

With two more sets of hands—make that three, with the Pretorian—the work was faster, and I was starting to believe we’d finish attaching the last of the hull plating before the end of the day.

The only two jobs I hadn’t checked yet were the pool and the hydroponics.

I was certain I could get the info I needed on that from Hina or Jakar.

Neither of those was necessary for the integrity of the ship, though, so I’d finish those myself while we were en route.

Eoin was making short work of his sections.

He wasn’t bolting them in place and then carefully welding each edge.

His unique ability let him simply glide his hand over each seam, rearranging the molecules into a single, seamless piece.

It was catching some attention from the hull technicians, but he was refusing to explain what he was doing.

I hoped it wasn’t attracting unwanted attention, but if there was one thing Strewn was known for, it was their ability to hold their tongue.

In my ear, I could hear that Arianna was going through the rooms I’d opened for her, searching for more food and things to entertain herself with.

She’d looked cold on the camera feeds before, but when I’d seen her last, she’d been wearing a gray jumpsuit, which was considerably warmer.

I missed seeing her bare arms, but I was glad she’d managed to take care of herself.

I skipped dinner so I could work on the shield generator, and ignored my painful ribs so I could check on the weapon systems. Those still needed a lot more work, too much to finish in time.

I’d have to work on them while we were flying, which I could now that we had the parts.

The guns had been mounted, but the integration was going to be a bitch.

I’d opted to have all the old weapons stripped and removed, they were outdated and badly damaged.

The new system was going to be great, but it wasn’t a priority.

My focus needed to be entirely on the engines.

Catching Ziame as he and Abigail were headed for their bunk, I told him that we were ready to leave.

I had already notified Strewn about it, and Abigail should have received a notification of the credits we owed them—considerably less than we’d originally contracted for, as I was cutting their man-hours nearly in half.

“Seriously? Are we safe to take off?” Abigail exclaimed.

“I’ll go pay the bill immediately so we’re cleared for departure.

” She shrugged off Ziame’s tail and jogged down the hallway toward the bridge; she’d use the console in the captain’s office to take care of it.

I was, as always, impressed that the female could run in boots with heels as tall as the palm of my hand.

“Chloe and Kitan were still watching a ‘movie’ in the mess hall. We could ask them to set our course on autopilot as soon as Abigail clears our bills,” Ziame offered.

A smirk curled his lips, a little bit of smoke escaped from one nostril, and his ears pointed attentively my way.

I had a feeling he thought he knew something that he found funny—at my expense—but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what.

I was mostly just relieved that my captain was willing to get the ship in motion for me—that my brothers had unanimously voted to rescue Arianna, even Thorin, though he’d looked reluctant to put his mate at risk.

This was ironic, because out of all the females, Camila was a trained soldier; she knew how to handle herself.

I knew better than most that female soldiers were also highly risk-averse; she had a better chance of survival out in the field than he did.

I had only just arrived in the engine room, ready for another night without sleep so I could work on the engines, when the intercom came to life, warning me to strap in for take-off.

I rushed to my seat, catching Babbit along the way and clutching the grumpy Riho to my chest as I strapped in.

“Ready,” I announced as soon as I was locked in, but it still took long minutes before the rest of the crew reported the same.

As I sat still, my body pressed into the harness, my ribs ached even more, but I shoved it aside.

That was a small price to pay; I could work through it.

I pretended I didn’t hear the reproachful little growl that Babbit gave me.

Until I’d made sure I’d shaved off sufficient time from our journey to make it to Arianna in time, I couldn’t rest.

I’d been on my knees, deep inside one of the panels, reworking wires when the noises I’d been softly hearing from Arianna changed.

I felt like a stalker, like a creep for listening in on her all day, but it had been comforting, a reminder that urged me to keep on working.

To help her. I hadn’t felt this driven, this fired up to work, in a long time.

Truthfully, I had missed the passion that had come with my military career, working through impossible odds to get a ship up and running, or keep it limping through a battle.

That had been exciting, even if it had ended when it should have, and I never wanted to go back.

Arianna had been quieter, making soft noises only occasionally for the last hour. It had sounded to me like she was settling in to go to sleep, and I had been debating whether to turn off the com connection. I really should, this was far across the line.

The sound I heard next froze me in my tracks.

Then I jerked back and hit my horns on the edge of the console.

Was that… Was that a moan? She made another soft little sound—more of a gasp than a moan—and I froze again.

My skin flushed with heat until the purple lines marking me were glowing with bioluminescence.

I pressed the heel of my palm against my groin, where my pants had suddenly gone uncomfortably tight.