Page 7 of Stealing the Star Stone

Chapter Four

Tarnis’ Messis Station

My plan isn’t working.

Despite the forescreens filled with images of domed farms, solar panels, and water tanks, Eli couldn’t drag his gaze from Nova’s hands caressing the lever.

She flew the shuttle with such ease, her guidance delicate—grace in all her movements.

As new as he was to piloting, he doubted he would do better.

Once again, she wore her uniform. He’d have liked to see her in an outfit that was more…

casual. Though how he’d breach that subject, he didn’t know.

Maybe a pilot’s salary wasn’t enough for such…

luxuries. Or she was lazy and didn’t want to waste the daily effort of choosing something to wear.

He got that when his every choice would be scrutinized or worse, taken as endorsement.

Graham had a seamstress on call to remove any branding from the garments he bought.

“Tarnis Messis Station, this is Honor Sierra Alpha One Tango Eleven. Requesting docking location and sequence.” She careened the shuttle toward the circular floating station gleaming white against the bold greens of Tarnis below.

Shuttles, cargo ships, and tourist cruisers littered the space around the station. Not in chaos, but with an impossible synchronicity.

“ Honor , this is Messis Station. Proceed to dock at Bravo Vector Two,” a man droned. “Security has been notified for pre-disembark check and sterilization.”

“Copy that, Messis Station,” she said, so calm and professional.

Within minutes, the docking clamps budged the shuttle then thunked as they latched and sealed to the sides.

She powered down the engines then leaped out of the seat, almost colliding with Eli, who’d yet to step back.

“Ready?” she said, squeezing between the chair and him without touching either.

“Sure,” he said, trying to capture her perfume without appearing to do so. Somehow, her subtle spicy scent lured him to misbehave as if he couldn’t go for long without the company of a woman. He squared his shoulders and trailed her. “Any idea where we’re going to start?”

“Oh?” She smirked. “I thought this was your joyride.” She shrugged on a formal coat in a matching red, then with a flourish, flicked out her ponytail.

“I would start with the tea emporiums since we pass those first. Then we can choose a fruit and see if they’ll allow us to pick a few.

” She shrugged before punching a red button that opened the shuttle’s door to the tether.

He paused, drawing in a deep breath of the cleanest, sweetest air he’d ever tasted.

She did the same, a dreamy smile making her appear more…approachable. He’d been thinking ‘beautiful,’ but he needed to get his mind out of the gutter. Sporting a hard-on in public was a nightmare to deal with, press-wise.

“That’s it?” She gestured to his expensive denims and buttoned-up shirt made from Ganymede cotton.

He glanced down, liking how his real-leather boots held their polish. “What?”

“You stand out. Or were you planning on adding an obstacle course to the day? I’ll let you dodge your sycophants, without spending an ounce of sweat.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, but he dug out his sunglasses and slipped them on.

She blinked at him then giggled. “Besides looking strangely more virile, that’s not a good disguise.” She sighed, opened a closet, and pulled out a matching coat. “Wear that. If I had a helmet, I’d insist on it too. Just your lucky day I didn’t pack one.”

He pinched the collar of the coat and eyed it with distaste.

“It’s clean, and the captain’s so it should fit.” She marched off, leaving him to debate whether wearing the coat would kill him.

Harumphing, he slid it on then strode after her.

She walked backward, good humor warming her features. “Swagger less. Gotta hide all your signature moves.”

That was harder to do than wearing this tent of a coat.

But he couldn’t help the swell of excitement at her twice complimenting him: virile she’d said, and that she’d noticed his…

swagger. This was turning out to be a most entertaining expedition.

When he’d rattled off a list of activities, Petr’s arching brow at the mention of tea piqued Eli’s interest. He didn’t much care for tea, preferring pure water.

But when the man had revealed Nova’s preference for Lady Grey, Eli had succumbed.

The chance of spending more time with her was too much to resist, even if he had to sip tea.

“Welcome to Messis Station,” a uniformed station-sec said, halting them with an extended palm. His face was half-hidden by a tinted visor. As was his partner’s.

“Thanks,” Nova said, bouncing on her heels. “Any issues with our identification passkeys?”

“No,” the man said, reading something off a tablet. “Scans also confirm no weapons or organic matter on your persons. Please step into the spray and exit only when the light switches to green.” He tapped a circular disk at his booted feet.

She took up position and waited as a fine mist enveloped her. Eli did the same on another disk. Mint burned his nostrils, but the stench of chemical cleansers clung to him after the green lights flashed.

“For visiting dignitaries, please wear this S.O.S. device.” The guard handed Eli a wrist strap. “Press and hold if you’re in danger. We will respond immediately.”

“Thanks,” Eli said, clipping the strap on. “Do you anticipate trouble?”

The station-sec glanced at his partner. “Of course. It’s our job.” He swallowed hard. “Your timing could be better. We have a rare event in the Invenire Gallery that has the masses descending.”

“Oh?” Eli widened his eyes, his interest piqued. “What’s rare about it?”

“Some discovered artefact purported to be ancient alien tech. We have the weirdos, fanatics, and intellectuals on the station. One look at you, we might need to shorten your stay.” He cleared his throat. “For your safety.”

“I apologize for worsening your day,” Eli said. It paid to befriend security, even on a distant station orbiting a farming planet.

“Um, Mr. Thorne?” The other guard inched forward.

Eli knew that expression. He grinned. “Autograph or photograph?”

“Both?” The man glanced away then settled his hopeful gaze on Eli. “My wife loves your movies, made me watch Yeehaw in Zero G twelve times already.”

Eli fought to keep his smile in place. Nebula Slim had been his worst role to-date.

“You were amazing in that,” Nova ‘gushed,’ fluttering her eyelashes and clasping her hands to her chest.

Despite finding her charming, he mumbled, “Quit it.”

After posing with the man, Eli signed the tablet on a hastily downloaded image of the movie’s poster. Thankfully, his autograph wasn’t legally binding.

Nova hooked her arm through his and guided him toward the outer ring of shops.

To the right was a wall of glass, showcasing Tarnis behind it.

Along the left were many shops and stalls.

The colors were an assault on his eyes with garish signage, lights, and suggestive figures.

Worse was the cacophony of sounds from gambling bots and teaspoons hitting tea cups that had the clink of authentic china.

Few loitering tourists snuck glances at him. Some stared without concern. He drew his coat closer and hunched, hoping to ‘shorten’ his stature. Adding a limp was a temptation, but it would draw more attention than deter it.

“Charlie, how about a cuppa?” Nova cupped his cheeks, dragging his gaze to her upturned face. “You promised me tea,” she whined, then stamped her foot while tossing him a pout. She nudged her eyebrows in the direction of the onlookers now whispering to each other.

“I did, honey pot .” He chuckled, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

Her smile faltered, but she ushered him toward a gaudily lit store. “Let’s start here.”

The heavy fragrances of incense sticks burned his nose. But her excitement, her wide and sparkling eyes, the way she took in their surroundings… He’d never seen her like this.

“Sure,” he said, smothering a grimace.

She bounced inside, her ponytail swaying behind her.

When he followed, pushing through a beaded curtain, the incense faded and the rich aroma of licorice greeted him. He slid into a booth, meeting her gaze across the narrow table.

“Wha’ ya want?” an old woman asked, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“A little of everything,” Nova said, “especially the Jasmine-infusion. Oh, and the granadilla.”

The old woman’s scowl merged into a toothless smile. “Milk?”

“Of course not,” Nova said with a grin. “Are you testing me?”

“I may be.” The woman chuckled, but when she focused on Eli, she glowered. “You donna look like the tea-drinkin’ type.”

“I’m not, but I’m willing to be taught.” He summoned his famous smirk. “Rumors have it, a tea goddess is here…” He glanced around the cluttered shop then leaned in as if to whisper a secret. “Only she can convert me to a true tea drinker.”

He was laying it on thick, but he wanted the best experience without having a space version of his aunt glaring at him in disappointment.

“Ne’r shall it be said that I, Arell, turned away a student.” She waddled off, humming too loudly.

“She didn’t need to be charmed,” Nova said.

He laughed. “Yes, she did if I didn’t want her spit-cleaning my cup.”

“Fair enough.” She waved her fingers at the illuminated menu above the crockery-littered counter. “Want to try something else?”

“To be honest,” he said in a hushed voice, “I don’t understand the love of boiled leaves in water.”

“Too bitter?” she asked, her hands in her lap. There was no derision in her tone, just curiosity. For once, she was being…polite.

“Too hot.” He chuckled. “Grew up—”

“In a scorching climate. I know,” she said and beamed at the old lady, who lowered a heavy looking tray onto their table.

He stared over the steaming pots, fascinated by Nova. She’d surprised him again. He supposed his life was an open book.