Page 19 of Hijack! (Cosmic Connections Cruise #1)

“Possibly more. By my calculations, once we isolate it, we’d still have enough power for life support and a long-distance emergency transmission, once we reset the array.”

“Propulsion?”

“Minimal.”

So they might take back control, but there wouldn’t be much left to control. But they were too far off course—farther every moment—and running too dark to expect help to find them; the truth was, space was mostly too big and too empty to wait for rescue.

“Do it. What do you need?”

“Griiek and I can handle the construction. I think Styr would be of help with the tuning since it understands electromagnetic frequencies. The unit will be too large to transport through the corridors, so the distortion will need to manifest within the cross matrix of the containment field.”

Though he didn’t look over at her, Ellix felt the weight of Felicity’s attention on him. He was glad his Kufzasin fur hid any capillary betrayal in his own skin. “We’ll figure out a lure. How long for assembly?”

Suvan looked away. “As long as it takes.”

Ellix pointed at him. “Sooner than that. Griiek and Styr will join you in the engine module. Please make sure the portal is unlocked for them.”

“Yes, Captain.” The chief engineer’s tone sounded resigned.

Ellix wondered if he should be more worried that the grouchy engineer felt desperate enough to allow interlopers. “Delphine, what do you have on our trajectory?”

“Absolutely nothing,” the pilot said morosely. “The apparent path aligns with no labeled ports of call or other known destinations. Until here.”

On the main view screen, a single line arced across the depiction of empty interstellar gas. And at the end of it…

“Is that a black hole?” Felicity whispered, as if it might hear her.

“The next worst thing,” Delphine said. “A null-space cloud.”

An ill-defined patch of concentrated dark matter complexified by quantum-level disorder, creating a flaw in the gravitational scaffolding of a cosmic structure. So, not guaranteed destruction like a black hole; merely a likely one.

“At least there should be warning buoys placed around it,” Griiek said. “Maybe we could bounce a basic rescue signal, even if our external comms are still inoperative.”

The pilot grimaced. “Unfortunately, if we continue on this course at this speed, even before we reach the null cloud, we’ll be crossing into the Zarnox Zone. That sector is not maintained by any intergalactic authorities.”

The zone was notorious for harboring criminals, fugitives, zealots, and various malcontents precisely because the cosmological dangers made it a region not worth civilizing. And the distortion was forcing this ship of would-be lovers right to the heart of the worst of it.

When he’d promised himself this would be his only sunset cruise, he hadn’t meant it with such finality.

“We need to isolate the distortion from our systems and regain control of the ship before we enter the zone.” Ellix looked at each of them in turn. “You have your tasks.”

The crew scattered. Leaving him alone on the bridge.

Except for Felicity.

He did not need to be noticing they were alone together. Something, something, saving the ship…

Standing near the forward screen, which was not very helpfully showcasing the distant star-streaked visage of their headlong rush into the dangerous unknown, she looked small against the darkness.

His claws pricked his own skin, like a punishment that he wasn’t holding her, keeping her safe against that empty enormity.

She was absorbed in her datpad—or so she seemed. As the silence settled, her head bent lower, as if she were hoping to be absorbed into the little device.

“Felicity.”

She didn’t look up. “Yes, Captain?”

“Come here.” He hadn’t meant for the words to sound like a growl—or a command.

But they did.

Her head snapped up hard enough to endanger the structural integrity of her shiny hair twist, and her eyes shone even harder—with anger.

He blinked once in surprise. He had not suspected his little Earther could even be angry.

His little Earther…

Even as he mused on that realization, she was stalking toward him. She tossed her datpad on his chair. The better to make her hands into fists. Aye, very angry.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she said through gritted teeth.

He looked down at her. “I’m your captain?”

“That wasn’t a captain’s order.”

Since she was right, he couldn’t exactly accuse her of insubordination. Although she did look mutinous.

His own paws flexed, wanting to reach for her. But he didn’t move. Because she was also right to be angry at him. “I’ve hurt your feelings,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Her lips drew together—sadly not into a kissing shape but like she’d swallowed one of the synthequers gone bitter. “Whatever you’re sorry about, if you feel bad about me, that’s a terrible way to finally feel your feelings.”

He rumbled deep in his throat. “I have always had feelings.”

For you.

He didn’t say it because it sounded like a lie. They’d only been in proximity a handful of times before the launch, and one night of chaos didn’t count as a date.

Did it?

Not that it mattered, considering the aforementioned chaos.

But from the moment he’d caught her scent, he’d wanted her.

Nay, he was lying to himself this time. Not just wanting her, wanting to give himself to her.

All this time, all these lightyears he’d traveled, only to encounter her on this silly, disastrous cruise.

“When I told Griiek I’d suffered a passing weakness, you thought I meant you.” To his dismay, his whiskers quivered. “But I meant only myself.”

She straightened. “Because of course fraternizing with a closed worlder is so wrong.”

“Because I wanted to leave the devotion mark on you. But I didn’t.”

Her blue eyes narrowed, only a shadowed gray between the fringe of her pale lashes. “Why?”

“You are a fragile Earther, aye, and under my command, though you object. But also, this night was supposed to be…just fun.”

A flicker in her eyes. “Fun?”

“That is what you told us. Three sunsets to enjoy, a game to play, drinks and dessert and fun. The devotion is not that.”

“And you think—what?—I’m not strong enough for it?”

“I already told you: I fear I’m not.”

“Ellix—”

“Felicity.” His voice broke, and he feared that breach would reveal the vulnerabilities left behind all those lightyears ago. “Come here.”

For an infinity, she looked at him, and he felt as if those blue eyes were lasers carving away at the last of his shields. Slowly, she crossed the few steps remaining between them, her chin angling up to hold his gaze.

Only when the toes of her magnetized boots bumped his did he let out a shaky breath. “Do you believe I will save this ship? Will you help me?”

“Aye, Captain.”

That she didn’t hesitate shattered the last of his restraint. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer. The soft warmth of her eased something that had been cold in him for too long. But he didn’t have anything to give back to her.

He lowered his head to brush his lips across hers, reveling in the feel of her mouth, softer and warmer yet. With a sigh, she parted to him. Aye, this he could give her, a moment of pleasure.

He kissed her as she’d shown him, with just enough bite that she tilted in to him, her hips nudging his thighs. He had to curl over her to hold the contact of the kiss. And she helped by wrapping both her arms around his shoulders, anchoring her fingers in his fur.

She hummed against his mouth, a little song of longing that shivered through him, sparking along every nerve.

He wanted to never let her go…

But eventually, breathing happened, and he straightened. As they stared at each other from almost no distance, he brushed the silky hair back from her forehead. “It’s fallen again,” he murmured, catching the wayward ribbon. He held it out to her.

“Keep it,” she said in a husky voice. “I give up.”

He closed his fist on the gift. “Nay, you don’t. And that inspires me.”

“So did kissing save the ship?”

“Not yet. But it will.”

Her lips, a shiny red from his rough caress, twitched to one side. “That’s how you want to manifest the energy distortion in the containment unit. You think it will appear and follow us if we…inspire it enough.”

Her quick understanding made him wonder why Earthers hadn’t already escaped their unsuspecting detention on their small planet. “This is not a command from your captain,” he said. “We don’t know enough about the anomaly to truly assess the risk.”

“For so long I was afraid to take risks,” she murmured. “But in the end, I didn’t let that stop me from joining the IDA. I’m not going to freak out now. Let’s go catch an anomaly.”