Page 21 of Stealing the Star Stone

Chapter Fifteen

Viator IV Shuttle

On our way to a moon.

Okay, what’s the catch?

Day Three.

“No, you’re shitting me,” Eli gasped, disbelieving the words. “It doesn’t spell that.” He laughed, shaking his head. “What are the odds?”

“I should be angry, but I’ve had it for so long,” Nova said. “Good thing I’m having it removed.”

“It’s pretty, though,” he said, zipping up his jeans.

“It glows, too,” she said, sinking into the pilot seat.

A blue-green-purple moon drew closer, filling their screens. The station-sec saber-class cruiser took up the foreground. In the background was the frozen mass of Nyxara.

“Safe and sound,” station-sec said on the comms. Her face didn’t appear and wouldn’t if he judged by the ship veering away. “Good luck, and we’ll hold you to that dinner.”

“Absolutely,” Nova said. “And thanks for the rescue.”

They were alone, no longer being fired at, and traveling to yet another adventure. Things were going too well. “Any damage?” he asked. “We good to land?”

“I hope so,” Nova said and spun the shuttle, catching a glimpse of the departing saber.

A slight whir in the engines made him stiffen his spine. Maybe he was being paranoid. When she resumed their path to Lethara, the strange sound settled into a hum.

“Mm, maybe take it easy when we land?” She didn’t glance at him. That didn’t bode well.

“ If we can.”

He wasn’t a praying man, but the urge to start pressed on him.

Gazing at the ceiling seemed silly. He did so anyway, sending up a quick prayer for a good landing, survival, and overall success.

He followed with a quick apology for being silent all these years.

The last time he’d spent any time with the Lord was after his parents died.

The forescreen flashed, mapping out their trajectory with a dashed line.

They breached the red-tinted clouds, barreling along tall, asparagus-like trees.

Three feet or more below their tips, thick foliage began, hiding the ground below.

The engines whined, and when the shuttle dipped then righted itself, the sudden movement left his stomach in his throat. He swallowed the rising nausea.

She gripped the lever, her knuckles white and strained. “We’re nearing the spot,” she said. “See any clearings in the canopies?”

He scanned the almost-phallic trees, trying to find a break where they didn’t look like porcupine quills. “Nothin—”

“Destination reached,” the computer intoned, flashing a green icon on the screen.

She yanked back, the ass of the shuttle scraping along the tips of the trees. They hovered there.

“Caves without mountains have to mean an opening going underground,” he said. “Any guns on this thing?”

“Computer, can we blast a clearing?” she asked.

“This is a N-class expedition shuttle, designed to be a scientific personnel carrier. It does not have security features,” the computer said.

“There we go,” Nova muttered.

The computer continued. “A suitable landing location is 2.43 kilometers due west.”

Nova grinned. “Thank you.” She propelled the shuttle forward then jerked it to a halt. The suggested spot was on the apex of an orange waterfall where a narrow strip of dark riverbank jutted out.

“Shit,” he hissed, tension hardening his spine. “Can we make it?”

“We have to,” she said. “Good to be near water, though. Computer, land this shuttle.” She removed her hands from the lever. “Goes against my better judgment, but she’ll do it better than I can.” Nova offered him a smile. “Docking, no problem. Landing, mm, not my best skill.”

“Now you tell me?”

“Think you can do it, Thorne?” she snapped. “How long have you had your pilot’s license?”

How does she know about that? He pinched his lips. But she has a good point.

What should have been a gentle touch down turned out to be an extreme joyride. The shuttle shot up, then dropped, leaving his stomach pinned to the ceiling. His feet left the floor then slammed down, reverberating up his feet into his knees. A horrendous whine pierced the air.

“Engine malfunction,” the computer stated. “Overriding auto-pilot. One moment, please.”

Up they flew. This time, he couldn’t hold on and hit the floor, the chair’s edges scraping his ribs. Nova stayed in place, having strapped herself into the seat. She tried to grab him, but to no avail.

The final descent rattled his teeth, and the crunch of shattered rock had to mean only one thing.

They’d landed. Metal creaked, and the distinct odor of chemicals pierced his senses.

“Chance of exploding are?” he asked the computer while keeping his gaze fixed on Nova.

“73.7 per cent.”

“And the air’s breathable? Water drinkable?” Nova hurried to ask.

“Affirmative,” the computer droned.

“Let’s not delay then.” She jumped up, tugging the coat off the back of the chair and pulling it on. “What else do we need?”

“So, we’re not hiding this thing, right?” He eyed the trees visible in the forescreens. Chopping them with a machete would take days.

“We don’t have to. Pirates attacked us, not Orien. There’s no reason why he’d find us.” She opened the weapons locker, slipped a laser rifle over a shoulder, and hefted a machete.

He took a machete but left the rifle, not sure he could carry that and the bag. With the blaster and dagger, he was more than armed.

“Ready?” she asked, then punched the red button beside the door.

It swished open, flooding the compartment with fresh air, the likes he hadn’t enjoyed since Tarnis and filming Yeehaw in Zero G .

She jumped out onto the pale-gray rock of the riverbank.

When she veered around the tail-end, he followed.

The tinkle of cooling metal reached him and that same stench from earlier.

He came to a standstill beside her, gaping at the wreckage.

Grooved into the right engine was a deep gash, exposing layers of metal and mechanical parts.

“We were lucky,” she said, stating the obvious. “Could’ve blown at any second.”

Lucky? He scoffed. They’d been close to getting splattered. He wasn’t sure if that was an improvement to torture.

Spinning on the spot, she scanned the area. “Any idea where east is?”

He hitched a thumb past the ass-end of the shuttle. “That way. You didn’t swivel, heading in a straight line from the cave’s location, so yeah…”

“Good enough for me, Thorne.”

He stared after her, her long legs carrying her along the bank with such speed. Sure, he’d spent a lifetime adjusting his stride to align with the shorter people around him, but it sucked being on the receiving end.

She stopped when she skirted the treeline. “Want me to carry that?” She gestured to the knapsack.

“No, I can do it.”

She frowned. “We need to make good time. If Orien’s on our six, I want to be as far from here as possible.”

“He’ll know where we’re going.”

“True, but he can’t land near to the cave or us.” She grinned. “We took the last parking spot.”

He handed over the bag. “This doesn’t look inaccessible.” Hiking two kilometers through these tall trees seemed doable.

“There has to be something we don’t know,” she said, palming the machete. “Come. Stay close.”

“Then slow down,” he snapped, sounding more like Nova when he’d first met her.

She glanced at his legs then nodded. “Sorry.”

As they marched through the trees, the weak sunlight obliterated by the thick canopy, a green glow came to life on the bark, north-facing. It gleamed as if wet, and where it dripped, it hissed.

“Don’t touch anything,” he whispered.

“And watch where you step.” She sprinted ahead, smoke rising from her bootheels.

Yelping, he did the same, leaping onto the same boulder she balanced on. “Acid?”

“Could be that same green goo.” She eyed the path they needed to take. “We’re going to have to make a run for it. Think you can?”

He frowned. “No other choice. I’m not standing here like a sitting duck waiting to be captured again or worse.”

She grinned and bolted, taking off down the hill.

Every chance she could, she took a rock outcropping or a patch of thick ground cover.

He stayed on her, a little behind but kept her in his sights.

The stench of burnt leather singed his nostrils by the time they paused, this time on a fallen tree. He eyed it, not sure it was safe.

“Don’t think about it,” she panted. “Just…catch your breath.”

“I’m not that unfit,” he rasped.

“Neither am I, but we don’t know the percentage of oxygen in the air.”

Why hadn’t he thought of that?

A squeal pierced the sky. Glancing up was flipping useless when he couldn’t see through the tree cover.

“Animal or mechanical?” she asked.

“Fuck knows.” He peered into the shadows, half expecting something to charge him. “Let’s go.”

She did, leading the way. Being a little out when they started would send them in the wrong direction or missing the cave. Hopefully, the entrance would be gaping and massive. She rounded a corner and was gone.

Sheer panic gripped him. He hollered her name, tracing her steps but not finding her.

A blast of goo splattered his boots. He stared at the smoke sizzling off the leather.

A flash of light snapped his head up with the realization that something was firing at him.

There, hovering above the treetops was a shuttle looking like Viator IV ’s nastier brother—a canon was mounted to its side.

Its neon-blue light burned brighter, warning him of an impending shot.

He ducked behind a tree, but when nothing happened, he peeked to find the shuttle had for some reason moved on.

A boom and a cloud of fiery smoke made him duck. It had come from the direction of their shuttle, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure. Not that they could’ve flown it again, but its destruction resonated with finality. He broke into a run, casting glances over his shoulder.