Page 4 of Hijack! (Cosmic Connections Cruise #1)

He had not meant to touch the little Earther, at all.

And yet somehow… Striding down the corridor in the opposite direction from Felicity, Ellix let out a hard breath, as if he could blow the lingering essence of her out of his body, like venting lethal fire from a burning ship. But even the cold vacuum of space couldn’t empty his swirling thoughts.

And yea, feelings .

Too entranced by the scent and sensation of her, he’d forgotten to check the button at her breast. What would it have revealed to him?

He started to scrub his paws over his face, then froze. Curse the infinite stars, her scent…

Narrowing his eye, he stared at his fingers. Almost imperceptible against his fur were flecks of paler gold.

Hers. When he’d touched her hair, his claw had slid out, not under his control, and severed just the ends of one lock. Now the little strands were entangled in his fur.

That had been wrong of him. A dereliction of his duty, and a disrespect to her bodily autonomy. He would have to admit to the affront and make amends.

Still not entirely under his control, his fingers curled into a fist, holding tight to the strands so fine he could not feel them. But he knew they were there.

If he’d been wearing a feelings button— No he wouldn’t have been because it would’ve exploded, leaving a few more scars on his hide.

Letting her walk away from him had been almost impossible. Every impulse in him demanded that he seize her, not just a few strands of hair, to claim all of her for his devotion. But that was impossible.

This was just a cruise around three moons for a few more credits in his account and a few lightyears worth of rehab to his reputation. As soon as the ship returned to port, he would—

His whiskers prickled, and he tensed, half crouching as he pivoted a slow circle.

He widened his eye and flared his nostrils, testing. He even checked the datpad on his wrist. But despite the warning of his senses, he was alone in the corridor.

Distantly, the chime and clang of the external hatch echoed. Ah, the subtle change in air pressure must’ve triggered him. He straightened, shaking down his raised fur.

The passengers were arriving. Felicity would be smiling at them, her button shining brightly, her hair once again tidy.

Except for the strands tangled in his fur.

“Captain?” Suvan’s grating tones crackled through the datpad, jolting Ellix.

He scowled, though there was no one to witness his momentary distraction. “Here.”

“Lub just puked up another diode. Is launch still a go?”

“Unless we can give Evens a reason to scrub beyond ‘my pet larf says this ship tastes wrong,’ yea, the launch is a go.” He strode off toward the command module, which was where a captain should be for launch. He was definitely not mooning over a little Earther.

“Lub is not a larf,” the engineer said. “He’s a goblhob. And the ship does taste wrong.”

Unlike Felicity . She would be deliciously sweet.

Growling under his breath, Ellix raked his outstretched claws—when had that happened?—through his mane, smoothing the itchy bristle. “We launch when the passengers clear the lock.”

“You are the captain.”

That was definitely mockery from engineering.

But it was just a three-sunset tour. Nothing would go wrong.

Through his datpad, he tracked the onboarding passengers, listening to the exclamations of delight as they entered the hatch lobby, refurbished to what Ellix presumed were Evens’ Earther aesthetics.

While he completed his pre-launch checks, he glanced at the corridor monitors as the IDA cruise winners were ushered through the ship.

About half were Earther females, the rest an eclectic array of galactic citizens.

They were all attired, adorned, and artificed festively, even a bit provocatively, according to various interstellar fashions.

Some of them had their own datpads out, aiming at the various points of interest that Felicity indicated.

Evens had said there would be influence-peddlers, selected for their audience connections, among the prize-winning passengers.

But in general, the new arrivals all seemed excited and engaged with authentic pleasure.

As if they were genuinely thrilled about the idea of seeking a match during a jaunt around a trio of sequentially numbered moons, remarkable only for some geological quirks and their proximity to inhabited sectors with disposable credits.

Settling into the too-tight command chair, Ellix was taken aback by his own cynicism. If he’d been wearing a feelings button, it would’ve been…a defunct gray. Useless and busted. But would he really begrudge others their happiness?

As he leaned over to cast his datpad view to the main forward screen, the unwatched message cube in his pocket poked him hard.

“While the Cosmic Connections Cruise line is brand new, the Love Boat I actually has a long but mysterious history,” Felicity was informing the passengers as she guided them toward the Starlit Salon.

She lowered her voice in a way that felt strangely intimate despite the flattened quality of the monitors. “Some say…it’s haunted.”

Ellix frowned. A quick analysis between his translator and his wrist unit confirmed he understood the word. No one had told him the ship had an infestation of imaginary entities.

“I told you,” Suvan said through the engineering console; he was obviously watching the passenger parade even though he refused to show up for crew gatherings. “Lub knew something was wrong.”

“Griiek’s maintenance log noted signs of a previous larf problem,” Delphine said from her post at the helm. “Maybe Director Rowe doesn’t understand the difference. She is from a closed world.”

“Inexperienced, maybe, but not incompetent.” Ellix considered. “Likely it’s a story to amuse the passengers.”

Delphine nodded knowingly. “Ambiance.”

On the salon monitors, Felicity smoothly herded the guests past Styr’s indulgent delicacies to Ikaryo’s beverages while telling them about some “dating game” she’d devised for their amusement.

The huge oval viewports framed the local sun, filtered of course.

As they swung around the various moons, the screens would adjust for maximum ambiance.

The passengers would have the chance to show themselves “in the very best, most beautiful lights in the universe,” according to the Cosmic Connections Cruise brochure.

That seemed hyperbolic to Ellix, not to mention shortsighted. Which was saying something considering he only had the one eye. But for those seeking an enduring, effective union, wouldn’t it be more revealing to see each other in the worst light?

“Ship is secured and ready for launch,” Delphine reported.

“Secure and ready,” Suvan echoed from the engineer chamber. “Except for the wrong taste.”

Ellix grimaced. “Acknowledged.” With deliberate control, he retracted his claws and toggled the seat controls. “And…launched.”

More delighted exclamations came through the monitors from the Starlit Salon as the ship rotated slowly toward the first moon.

Though he had no reason to wonder, Ellix tightened the angle of the salon monitors on his wrist datpad.

With a flick, he focused in on Felicity.

She was facing the viewport, her Earther blue eyes huge and shining.

Abruptly, he stood, grunting as the chair pinched him. He transferred control to his datpad. “I’ll be back.”

Delphine glanced at him curiously but gestured her acknowledgment.

Ellix stalked down the empty corridor toward the Starlit Salon.

+ + +

The evening was off to a wonderful start.

Styr’s food was fabulous especially considering the Elnd chef couldn’t actually taste any of it, and Ikaryo’s tasty drinks were flowing—or frothing or frozen, depending.

Conversations were also flowing, and all feelings buttons were glowing bright.

Felicity was delighted. There would be excellent reviews of this inaugural cruise.

So when the cheerful noise level in the salon abruptly faltered, she cut off her datpad reply to Griiek who had sent her a question about the hallway lighting and the dating game tokens she’d hidden around the ship. She turned to find Captain Never-Smiles not smiling at the gathered guests.

Gritting her teeth, she hustled over to him. “Smile,” she hissed through still gritted teeth.

From his towering, glowering advantage, he looked down at her. “Kufzasin don’t have smiling.”

“Well, it goes like this.” She bared her teeth wider.

He tilted his head. “Even for an Earther, it looks as if you may bite.”

Oh, if only he knew.

With supremely casual nonchalance, she crossed one arm over her chest to tap her chin with exaggerated contemplation—while also covering up her feelings button. Because she didn’t actually want him to know anything. “So if you aren’t here to enjoy the party—”

“You asked me to say a few words.”

She curled her lips inward for a moment. “Are you going to say happy, friendly words or…”

“If you demand.”

Her heart skittered. She wasn’t part of the command crew to suggest, much less demand, when it came to ship’s orders, but Mr. Evens had made clear that the success of the venture was very much reliant on her expertise and efforts.

And if maybe she’d had a minor panic attack or two prior to her arrival on the Love Boat I tonight, nobody needed to know that—especially not its mighty captain.

She lifted her chin—she had to lift it really high—to stare at him. “Fine. I demand.”

Pivoting away, he snagged one of the double-bulbed flutes of Big Sky Sparkle?. Ikaryo had explained that the heavy gas beneath the upper liquid provided a transitory mild intoxication along with its beautiful shimmer.

“Not drunk,” the bartender had assured her. “I confirmed across all the passengers’ biology, chemistry, and other metabolic processes.”

There was a lot to know about extraterrestrial matchmaking.