Page 62 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Then she said that bit about how she wasn’t any good with people and was better with numbers, and I felt like I suddenly understood her.

Yeah! Give me numbers any day. Let me immerse myself in navigational calculations and three-dimensional puzzles.

I could think my way out of any logistical problem, but a conversation?

No, thank you. Abigail felt the same way—maybe not exactly the same—but awkward at talking?

She’d just admitted to that! So, I didn’t feel nearly as scared at that point.

We talked a little more about how and why I’d hidden when the Krektar boarded the Ever Golden, and then I felt relief when Abigail and Kitan both told me I’d done the smart thing.

Both agreed that anything else would have gotten me hurt or killed.

Maybe, if I’d been lucky, they would have thrown me in a cell with one of the gladiators.

Eventually, Abigail suggested I let the Doc do his thing to make sure I was healthy.

I didn’t feel opposed to that; I had never been a concern to the Ever Golden’s doctor, Miean, for which I’d been grateful.

Miean had been kicked out of medical school for malpractice, so I hadn’t trusted him.

But I knew that Aderians were highly skilled medical professionals; even the worst Aderian doctor couldn’t be as bad as Miean had been.

The doctor approached slowly, his mirror-like black eyes gentle as he held up his handheld scanner.

“I’m Doctor Surgeon Lukalyn Nerizana. Abigail and the others call me Luka,” he said in a rich, warm voice.

Aderians were often empathic to some degree, and I had a feeling this one was particularly sensitive.

“Hi,” I told him, and then sat still as he scanned me, his hands lingering near the base of my skull when he encountered my nav-ports. He made a humming noise and frowned, before gently asking permission to move my messy hair to the side, so he could inspect the site.

I felt a cold pit open up in my stomach.

The nav-ports were a concern of mine, but a necessity for survival too.

Old Basra had told me not to get them. Sure, no-portnavs were not as fast in FTL, not as fast at plotting a course, but they didn’t risk frying their brain.

Except, I’d known that Captain Busar would have sold me to a flesh market—or maybe made me the ship’s whore—if I hadn’t made myself exceptional.

To replace Old Basra, I had needed those ports.

My eyes sought out Kitan’s golden orbs for reassurance, and I marveled at how I now felt at ease with him.

When we first met in the cargo bay hold, he had seemed monstrous—huge and frightening.

Now, he was the most familiar presence in the room.

Maybe sharing that secret of his hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

It made me feel more in control somehow, as if I shared a connection with him that nobody else here did.

He and I were still holding hands too, and when I’d searched out his eyes, he stepped a little closer and gently squeezed.

“You have a port?” When I nodded, I saw how his eyes gleamed—I understood that.

I, too, felt excitement at the thought of flying the Ever Golden with him. Would we work well together?

The Ever Golden’s pilot, Gethryel, was the only pilot I’d flown with, but that was always a struggle.

Gethryel didn’t like to listen to anything I had to say and often fought me half the time, which sucked because, if things went wrong, I was always the one blamed.

Somehow, I didn’t think flying with a pilot like Kitan would be anything like that.

“It’s a port, all right,” the Doc, Luka, murmured, breaking the moment Kitan and I had been sharing.

“Where did you get it?” At the tone of his voice, I knew it was bad news about to be shared with me, but I already knew what he was going to say.

No doctor had given the diagnosis, but I knew what I’d gotten myself into when I had the nav-port surgically installed.

“Yengar Spaceport,” I murmured, aware that that would tell the Doc more than enough.

Indeed, he frowned and then sighed, “Well, no wonder. I’m sad to say it’s badly degraded.

It functions, but it’s not healthy. Another year at the most, and it’ll go critical—and that’s only if you use it sparingly. ”

I knew I was supposed to be scared when I heard that, but truthfully, I’d long ago made peace with the fact that survival now might be the end of me later.

I’d made that choice when I was fifteen, knowing that each day with the implant might improve the quality of my life.

I’d do anything to avoid becoming the ship’s whore, and as long as I’d hid my body and made myself incredibly useful as the nav.

.. I had done just that. I’d never thought more long-term than that.

To my surprise, Kitan responded much more vehemently, “Well, take the damn thing out then, Doc! I won’t have it melt her brain!

” His grip around my hand turned fierce, and he seemed to puff up, appearing bigger with the way his fur stood on end.

He’d even sort of slid closer, almost between me and the doctor, as if he needed to protect me from the Aderian.

I wasn’t sure what to make of his response.

Did he not want me to be a nav? Or was this purely out of concern for my well-being?

It seemed like the latter, and that was the strangest thing to experience—I hadn’t had anyone genuinely care about me in so long.

I mean, Old Basra cared in his own way, but he was gruff and a bit mean at times, never sentimental.

“If I could, that’s what I’d recommend, of course.

” The Doc leaned around Kitan to meet my eyes and speak directly to me, which I appreciated.

I was used to being invisible—both on purpose because I hid and because I was considered a slave.

These people treated me like a human being, and it was, for a moment, a struggle not to let my eyes fill up with tears.

“But I’m afraid that it’s a little beyond me.

Though I’m a surgeon, I’m not a neurosurgeon, and that’s what this requires.

We’ll need to find a good one to remove the old ports and install new ones within the year.

” As he explained, he focused solely on me, but in the end, he eyed both Kitan and Abigail sternly.

He spoke to them some more, but my mind had focused on the ‘install new ones’ part of the news he’d just delivered.

It strongly implied the damage the old ports had done—that my brain now required the ports to survive, to handle the feedback of working the FTL drive.

This was a huge obstacle. Not only did it easily double the price of the surgery, but it also required an even more specialized neurosurgeon.

And yet, like an addict, I felt relieved that I wouldn’t have to live without ever navigating again.

***

Kitan

I didn’t like it much, but it was for the best when Abby led Chloe from the med bay so she could be shown to her own quarters, wash up, and get some new clothing.

Tori was supposed to meet them there, and when Abigail had reassuringly told Chloe that the tiny, pregnant female was super shy, Chloe had immediately relaxed.

Aware that Luka was watching me, I shifted my body and settled my gaze on him.

“Chloe was hiding behind a stasis pod in the cargo bay. The lights were off, but it was humming. Want to go take a look at it?” At his slightly grim nod, I led the way back to the bay and through the maze of stacked crates to where I’d found my stowaway.

Once we both stood in front of the pod, looking at it, the Doc said in a gentle tone of voice, “Trying to shift back here, were you?” I didn’t deny it; after all, I’d managed enough to get rid of the scarring on my legs and arm.

He didn’t pursue the line of questioning either and instead ran his hands over the pod.

“I think we’d better move it to the med bay so I can properly study it.

It does still seem to be running—maybe I can get it to work again.

It’s possible that whoever is inside is still alive. ”

I couldn’t help with that, which galled; my broken arm and ribs excluded me from lifting the stasis pod, even with the help of a floater.

But I was capable of getting a ship-wide com out to request one or two of my brothers to help out the doc.

While I did that, I noticed that Luka had already started running his handheld over the machine.

He’d even popped a panel somewhere and was checking whatever was going on inside.

I figured he had completely forgotten I was there and was definitely contemplating sneaking away when the Doc proved he had sharp ears.

“The new girl seems very taken with you.” I paused my sneaky backward shuffle to eyeball the Doc’s back.

In his pristine white doctor’s coat, he looked out of place among the dusty stacks of crates, but he managed to convey authority with the straightness of his posture alone.

“So?” I asked, wincing when I automatically tried to shrug and paying for it with my sore ribs. I wanted to snap at him that it was none of his business, but as the doctor, it kind of was. He was protective of his new patient.

“She’s traumatized and possibly latching on to the first person being nice to her. Tread carefully, okay?” He turned to focus his black eyes on me and immediately my instinctive response—my first response—to deny this fell away. He was only trying to look out for Chloe; I had to respect that.

Dipping my chin, I gave a sharp nod. “I know this. Don’t worry.

But think again if you think I’m going to keep my distance.

If she needs me to be there, I will be there.

” She trusted me, and I was not going to betray that trust. Maybe it was selfish, but looking into those big blue eyes of hers, I finally felt like I had a purpose—that all my drifting and running had always been to bring me to her. I needed her.

Luka eyed me a while longer, and I had the impression he was doing something more—using some sense other than just his eyes. The empathic ability that Aderians were hinted to have, maybe. Or maybe it was just that his eerie eyes made it appear that way.

“Call for Da’vi, too, will you? I discharged him from med bay this morning, but he mentioned he’s an engineer.

Maybe he can help me figure out this pod.

” That was the last thing I expected the Doc to say, but I gratefully accepted the change in topic.

Da’vi, or Doom, as he’d been called as a gladiator, didn’t answer his com, though, so I immediately volunteered to go look for him.

As I exited the cargo bay, Jakar and Thorin had just left the lift and were approaching at a jog.

“What’s going on? Another stasis pod?” Jakar asked excitedly.

“I heard there was another human girl found?” I took in his eager expression and realized that Jakar, who’d always been a slave just like Fierce, had taken a keen interest in Abigail and Ziame’s relationship.

To him, that was the stuff of miracles, and he was hoping to find it for himself.

My lips curled up into a snarl without my conscious command, but once I made the overt sign of aggression, I didn’t back down. “I found her. Chloe has been through enough! You will not approach her.”

Jakar’s eyes went wide while Thorin grinned, arms crossing as he slouched against the nearest wall.

“Whoa, Kitan, what crawled up your ass?” Jakar demanded once he’d gotten over his initial surprise.

He crossed all four of his impressively muscled arms over his chest and frowned.

“I was just excited there was a new girl. No need to bite my head off.”

Indeed, there should be no need, but I knew what I wanted and what Chloe was to me.

I wasn’t about to back down. There was no need, though; Thorin proved to be the clever asshole he always was when he said in a smug drawl to Jakar, “He doesn’t want to share the female. He’s claimed her as his mate.”

Jakar’s eyes went wide again, and then he frowned.

“Hey, I didn’t know it was a first-come, first-served kinda situation.

” As if we were little kids demanding the first slice of pie—shit, no, it wasn’t like that at all.

I growled at him, jabbing my good arm up in the direction where the females were: the officers’ quarters on the top deck.

“Don’t be an ass; they’re females. Treat them with respect!” Even Thorin, who, out of all of us, was the most cynical, meanest bastard, made an angry sound. Expanding on my statement, I added, “No one’s going after Tori now, are they? Chloe’s different.”

When Jakar lost some of his aggression, he lowered his arms, still frowning but now more as if he was in deep thought. He gave a nod. “You have a point, brother. This free-thinking is hard sometimes…” He rubbed the back of his neck and deflated some more. “I thought Sunder claimed Tori?”

I eyed Thorin, wondering if the guy was ever going to say something useful, but when he just smirked, I sighed.

“I don’t think so. Tori just sees him as safe right now.

It’s not always instantly clear if you’ve found the right person for you, you know.

Just… sometimes.” How did you explain to a guy who had never seen a real, love-based relationship with his own eyes how these things worked?

It wasn’t like my parents had been the best example either, but at least they’d chosen each other and stuck it out. Jakar was probably a product of his owners selecting his parents to breed, expecting strong offspring. It was wrong, and it was all he knew.

He frowned some more, but then shrugged, his face clearing as it turned into a friendly, open smile. That was typical Jakar—easy to anger, easy to cool down. “So, what’s this about in the cargo bay, then?”

I pointed over my shoulder. “Another broken pod. Doc thinks someone might still be alive in there.” I didn’t comment on how not just Jakar hustled down the corridor to get to the cargo bay at that news—Thorin was definitely hurrying as well. I laughed; everyone was eager for a mate around here.