Page 13 of Master (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #3)

Clara

The boat rose and dipped; the waves rising around us like demons, ready to pounce and drag us to a watery grave.

Clinging to the side, I glanced at Curtis.

He’d harnessed himself to a large chair mounted at the rear of the boat; the end of his fishing rod sank into what looked like a silver cup suspended mid-chest. The muscles in his forearms bunched and flexed as he fought whatever deep-sea denizen was on the other end of the line.

Curtis laughed while I clung to the railing, trying not to vomit.

“Clara!”

Despite my churning stomach, the sound of my name imparted an immediate sense of safety.

I opened my eyes expecting to see blue skies and rippling waves.

... praying for it. Instead, the dull gray interior of the spaceship pulled me from dream to reality with such harshness the threat of tears stung my eyes.

"Clara!" It wasn't Curtis' voice I heard in my dream, but Tarook. Even with that realization, the warmth of security laid like a warm blanket over me.

"I'm awake." I sat up in the bunk, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Tarook perched in the pilot's chair, long fingers flying over the control panel. Past him, through the thick glass, space seemed to undulate as the ship jerked and chugged.

I didn’t know squat about spaceships, but I knew enough to guess something wasn’t right.

“What’s happening?”

“You need to get up here and strapped in. Our starboard thrusters are failing. I knew we’d lost some shield panels on that side, but the engine diagnostics didn’t discern a debilitating problem.” Tarook’s voice belied on a hint of aggravation.

I jumped from the bunk, the pitch, and roll of the ship, making me stagger like a drunk after last call.

"Are we going to crash?" I asked, making it to the co-pilot's chair and shimmying into the harness. Tarook cast me a glance, a grin curling one side of his mouth, despite the tenseness of his posture.

“Yes, and no."

"What does that mean?" I snapped as the nose of the ship took a downward roll, causing my stomach to churn.

“See that planet?” Tarook jerked his chin to the left.

My eyes followed the direction he indicated, centering on what looked like a marble suspended in starry blackness. It looked like Earth, all green and blue, covered by misty clouds.

“That’s Tau Centi.”

“Oh, Thank God!” I breathed in relief.

Tarook's mouth curled into a smile but it didn't soften the hard glint turning his golden eyes dark ochre. "We don’t have enough thrusters to get us to the settlement, but we should be able to land without too much damage.”

My stomach fluttered—this time with fear. “Define ‘too much damage’."

Despite what seemed like a monumental effort to maneuver the skiff, Tarook shifted in his chair to face me,his gaze soft and mesmerizing. The palm of his hand felt warm and comforting as he cupped my cheek. "It will be alright, darlin'. Sit down, strap in, and put your head down."

Darlin’.

His calling me darlin’ seemed to be turning into a habit.

I didn't hate it.

I just wished I had more time to enjoy it before the skiff began mimicking a spinning roller coaster.

If crashing and dying were in my immediate future, please let me go with a little dignity and not barf on him.

Oddly, having my head buried between my knees kept the nausea at bay. It also forestalled what would have been screams of terror, uttered instead as faint gasps and whines.

Through it all, Tarook talked to me. Explaining each step of entering the planet's atmosphere with soothing words and promises of survival. His voice was deep, the timbre soothing, and through it all, he called me darlin’ .

I really didn’t hate it.

I actually kind of liked it.

The way he said it, drawing the syllables over his tongue, gave a cowboy tinge to his whole, alien Jamie Fraser vibe.

"Hold on, darlin'!"

I knew the second we entered the planet's atmosphere.

The feeling of being in a cocktail shaker dissipated, and the craft leveled out, traveling smoothly on the air currents.

Raising my head, I glimpsed pure blue sky punctuated by white and pale pink fluff and felt the warmth of relief course through my veins.

Then I noticed the trees.

Tarook was an excellent pilot. He centered the nose of the skiff toward a break in the canopy.

Tree limbs slapped and scraped against the hull making the ship groan, but somehow, he kept the nose up and the wings level.

When green gave way to the dark brown of thick tree trunks, I shut my eyes, tasting blood when I bit my tongue against screaming.

The skiff did enough screaming for the both of us.

High-pitched, jagged squeals of metal tearing as nature resisted the intrusion.

We came to a stop with a jolt, the shoulder straps of my harness holding tight enough to impart bruises.

At some point, I’d put my head between my knees again.

Feeling drunk and sluggish when I tried to raise my head, I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting motion sickness from a brain that seemed to swim about in my skull.

“Clara!”

The sound of feet hitting the floor echoed, and a warm, sure touch traveled over my body, pausing near my joints to palpate the muscles and tissues.

"Are you okay, darlin'? Are you hurt?"

Gingerly, I lifted one eyelid, then, finding my surroundings stilled, opened the other.

"I'm fine... I think. Just a little jostled."

Tarook clicked the harness open, and I slid forward, encountering his broad chest. He seemed to have survived the crash better than me. Only a few strands of chestnut hair escaped the bun at the back of his head. One thickly muscled arm wrapped around my waist as he brought both of us upright.

"We need to get off the ship." Tarook gazed through the front glass remained amazingly solid. We'd come to a stop in a small clearing, overshadowed by trees and overgrown with brambles. "I set her down as easily as possible, but the fuel is highly flammable."

“Say no more.” Nothing like the specter of being flambeed to get a girl up and moving.

Tarook pulled an oversized duffle from an overhead compartment and began filling it with water, food, and supplies. I followed his lead and grabbed a smaller tote, cramming it with as many supplies as possible.

The door groaned when Tarook pushed it open, tossing his bag out before jumping. I stepped to the edge, faltering, when I realized the doorway stood at least a dozen feet off the ground without the ramp.

“Um.”

“Toss your bag and jump.” Tarook opened his arms wide.

He caught my bag one-handed and dropped it before stepping closer, arms held wide again.

"I won't let you fall. I promise."

Oddly, I wasn't worried about falling. What worried me most was the idea of slamming into his muscular frame without embarrassing myself with a squeal of glee.

I stepped off the edge and went airborne for a breath before landing solidly in Tarook's grip.

He caught me the way the hero always catches the heroine.

.. one arm around my waist, while another rested under my legs, holding me tightly against his chest. I sucked in a deep breath, the cool air stark in my lungs, smelling of loamy earth and pine forests of home.

Tarook's spicy scent seemed headier, like a drug to my senses, and my mind flooded with recollections of how good it felt being in his arms, how full and intense it felt when he was deep inside me.

Good Lord!

One Jamie Fraser moment and I’ve turned into a horny toad.

Stunned by the flip of my thoughts, I cleared my throat nervously and squirmed until Tarook set me on my feet.

"They say any landing you can walk away from is a good landing," I muttered under his curious stare. Seriously, could I be any more awkward?

“Who are they ?” Tarook picked up the bags, easily slinging both over a broad shoulder.

“Humans,” I waved his question away, focusing on my surroundings.

The ship sat in a small clearing about half a football field in size, surrounded by thick, dark forest on all sides.

The dual suns filtering through the leaves warmly touched my skin, but did little to brighten the shady woodlands.

Although there wasn't anything noticeable but greenery and bark, I could help the tingle of awareness prickling over my skin as though some unseen creature eyed me hungrily.

The by-product of my few years as the foster child of a couple who adored dispersed camping.

“Do you know where we are?”

Tarook turned in a semi-circle, gazing skyward.

"About 30 milia—miles—from the main settlement.

" He turned again, holding his wrist comm at eye level.

"That way." He pointed to the left of where the twin suns sat low in the sky.

"Looks like the sun's just come up. If we hoof it, we should be able to make it to the human settlement without camping overnight.”

“Can’t we call someone?” I nodded to the device he wore at his wrist that reminded me of an oversized IWatch.

Tarook shifted his wrist so I could see the cracked face of the device. “Only the mapping system seems to work still.” He frowned. “I’m afraid we’re on foot.”

"Thank God for new knees!" I muttered. "Let's go."

Tarook sat off, shortening his stride so I could walk beside him.

“New knees?” he asked as we neared the edge of the clearing.

I chuckled at the confusion on his face… it was cute.

“Well, if you want to be technical, I guess it's really 'old knees'. At least I won't need to think about a knee replacement again for the next forty years.”

“Humans have developed cybernetic knees?" He held back a low-hanging branch for me to pass.

"Of a sort." I never got into the technical portion during my orthopedist visit. The amount of pain and rehab it would take to walk after surgery was more daunting.

“Why did you need cybernetic knees? Your body is beautiful.”

I opened my mouth to ask him how he knew, then recalled that he had, in fact, seen me naked.