Halo E-Book

Kelly Gay

• Herausgeber: Titan Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

The new Rion Forge story and original full-length novel set in the Halo universe based on the New York Times bestselling video game series with the latest entry, Halo Infinite, out in 2021!August 2558. Rion Forge was once defined by her relentless quest for hope amidst the refuse and wreckage of a post-Covenant War galaxy years spent searching for family as much as fortune. But that was before Rion and the crew of her salvager ship Ace of Spades encountered a powerful yet tragic being who forever altered their lives. This remnant from eons past, when the Forerunners once thrived, brought with it a revelation of ancient machinations and a shocking, brutal history. Unfortunately, the Ace crew also made dire enemies of the Office of Naval Intelligence in the process, with the constant threat of capture and incarceration a very real possibility. Now with tensions mounting and ONI forces closing in, Rion and her companions commit to this being's very personal mission, unlocking untold secrets and even deadlier threats that have been hidden away for centuries from an unsuspecting universe....

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Don’t Miss These Other Thrilling Stories in the Worlds of Halo

Title Page

Leave us a Review

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Three Weeks Earlier

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

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BASED ON THE BESTSELLING VIDEO GAME FOR XBOX®

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Halo: Point of Light

Print edition ISBN: 9781789097917

E-book edition ISBN: 9781789098082

Published by Titan Books

A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd

144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP

www.titanbooks.com

First Titan edition: March 2021

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by Microsoft Corporation. All Rights Reserved.

Microsoft, Halo, the Halo logo, Xbox, and the Xbox logo are trademarks of the Microsoft group of companies.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

Hello again, Reclaimer

Prologue

“Find what’s missing. Fix the path. Right what my kind turned wrong.” I have rolled these three sentences, these twelve words, in and around and through my internal processes like nimble, devoted fingers on prayer beads, coaxing out their secrets and meanings, wading neck-deep into an ancient past clogged with wrongs.

They are simple words, mostly unremarkable on their own, but strung together exponentially problematic.

An imprint of the Librarian, the esteemed ancient Forerunner, the Lifeshaper, with her uncanny ability to anticipate and plan and manipulate Living Time, gifted me these words and a key precisely six months ago inside a mountain in Africa. Had I known then what it led to, I might not have taken it.

Her faith in me is both humbling and devastating.

After all this time, why couldn’t she let me be?

Our old friends and enemies are gone. There is no one left to share in the shame of the past. No one left to shoulder the burden she places upon me. Nothing good can come from opening the deep, dark wounds of history.

Sometimes dipping your toe in still water does not go unnoticed.

A lesson taught to me by my mother over a thousand centuries ago in Marontik, along the mud banks of the slow river Sahti, where the crocodiles slumbered with one eye open.

Back then, I was Chakas. Back then, I was human, blissfully unaware on my backwater planet of Erde-Tyrene—Earth, as it is now known. Such brief time I had there . . . Before the Flood reemerged and threatened all sentient life. Before the Forerunners launched weapons of last resort to cleanse the galaxy. Before I was swept up into the fray, losing my humanity to become 343 Guilty Spark and tasked with firing one of those awful weapons and then monitoring it for the next one hundred thousand years alone.

Alone. Alone. Alone.

Waiting for life to creep back into a silent galaxy . . .

As I grew from child to man, I thought I knew better than to listen to silly warnings from my mother. Adventure, thieving, trickery, foolish bravery—those were the foods that nourished my soul, and I devoured them with enthusiasm, those wild and heedless thrills, which filled my lungs like a rare cold wind and left my skin tingling and my chest heaving.

For a very small speck of time, I knew what it was to be truly and recklessly and fragilely alive.

Until the young Forerunner Manipular, Bornstellar, arrived in Marontik seeking his own adventure and treasure. His presence ignited within me and my small Florian friend, Riser, a geas—genetically imprinted predispositions and commands placed in us since birth by the Librarian—to guide Bornstellar to Djamonkin Crater and release her husband, the dreaded Didact, from his cryptum.

Ancient gods playing games with mere mortals . . .

We were linked, the three of us, our fates entwined far more tightly along the world-line than any of us could have imagined.

And all that remains of us now is . . . me.

And while the thrills of my youth, the wind in my lungs, and the tingling of my skin are lost, never to be experienced again, onlyremembered and simulated, I endure. A superior artificial intelligence, now with my human memories restored, in command of a fully functioning armiger construct, one that gives me the body I lack and the ability to shape and mold and re-form to my liking.

She said I was a singular marvel, and she was right.

But what good is a singular marvel without a purpose?

A question I did not have to ponder long, apparently. She knew I would take up her cause before I knew myself—as all good mothers do.

If not me . . . then no one.

A dramatic sigh builds within me.

I went looking for a gift, and I got one. With it and those twelve words, along with a crew of human salvagers, and a hybrid starship, I am here.

We are here.

Gathered on the bridge of the Ace of Spades, in the Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way galaxy, staring beyond the floor-to-ceiling viewscreen at a monstrous technological wonder suspended in space and outlined in blue.

I never wanted to see a Halo again.

Especially this one.

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

Chapter 1

Sonata / Helice-12 System / August 2558

There wasn’t a single exhaust trail or cloud in the atmosphere, nothing to spoil the deepest blue sky in all the colonies. Field after field of intense green stretched in giant waves straight to the cobalt horizon. The wind rolling down from the highlands bent the tips of waist-high florus crops, revealing an emerald shimmer beneath slim upper leaves, a shimmer that mirrored the wind’s path, racing up and down the hills like a shiny green ribbon loose in the breeze.

It was hypnotizing.

The scene soothed Rion Forge’s soul. It was an affirmation and a reminder. She counted herself lucky to witness and explore far more of the galaxy than most ever would: the stars and their systems, planets and moons, biomes and landscapes, and plants that bowed to the wind and revealed their glittery underbelly. It had been easy to forget her passion for exploration and space when most of her time in the last year was spent running and grieving and trying not to get herself or her crew killed.

If only today were about exploration, and not the cold, hard truth. . . .

She wasn’t sure which was more amazing—the view or that her mother had chosen to call this place home.

Laine Forge had never been a nature lover, never liked to take walks in the local park back home or get her hands dirty tending the few container plants Rion’s granddad insisted on having around. Yet here she was, living her life in the very environment she’d always avoided. Granted, people changed all the time, but this change was hard for Rion to wrap her head around. That her mother had left Earth for an idyllist community on an Outer Colony ag planet made Rion realize that she might never have truly known her mother at all.

Rion shifted on the old Mongoose ATV to look behind her. The cargo bay doors were just closing, the Ace of Spades engaging her shiny new bafflers and rendering the ship nearly invisible. Ace was still the same sleek Mariner-class vessel she’d always been, but she’d also had one hell of a makeover, thanks to a Forerunner upgrade seed. The seed had been custom-designed by Spark to integrate Forerunner technologies with Ace’s existing framework and operating systems, creating a unique retrofit and comfortable user interface that gave Rion and her crew greater flexibility to navigate the stars quicker and more safely than ever before.

They’d set down on Sonata at the edge of a florus field, one of thousands, with a swath of dense forest at their backs. To the south, a dirt road edged the field and would eventually lead to the community where Laine lived on the outskirts. South was the way to go, but Rion couldn’t seem to make the quad move.

Out in space, light-years from home, it was easy to lose track of those left behind, easy for the days and weeks to stretch into months and years. The longer the gap widened, the harder it became to reach out and reconnect, as though time created its own wall, every passing moment adding strength to a barrier that now seemed impossible to break.

She’d faced Brutes, hinge-heads, Hunters, and Jackals; toxic landscapes, mutiny, starvation; had built one of the most successful salvage operations along the Via Casilina, and yet she couldn’t seem to muster the courage to put the damn quad in gear and face her mother. No matter how Rion spun it, there was no getting around it or out of it, no excuses good enough to abort this particular mission.

News like hers deserved to be heard face-to-face. Family to family.

Upon arrival in the Helice-12 star system, she and Spark had completed a sweep of the area and then a thorough evaluation of Sonata’s orbital defenses and communications array. It was your standard Outer Colony complement for an agricultural world. Besides the population and pristine beauty—at least on this side of the planet—the real thing of value here was Florus Corp’s one and only export—refined florus—which provided all-natural, good-for-you, non-glucose-based sweetener to the entire galaxy. Florus’s green stalks had long ago been studied and synthesized, but those other competitors just couldn’t compare to the organically grown real deal. And that only happened here in Sonata’s rich blond soil, where Florus Corp reigned supreme.

Standard defenses or not, she and Spark had taken great care with their approach into the planet’s atmosphere.

After fleeing Earth six months ago with what the Office of Naval Intelligence believed was their high-value asset, the organization had been relentless in their pursuit. Rion had no doubt that ONI had tracked down every member of her and the crew’s families—friends, customers, rivals, all of them. Every known associate would have been interviewed and put through a series of neural markers and psych evaluations. Surveillance would have been initiated for a time and was perhaps still ongoing, depending on the relationship.

That’s what happened when the newest member of your crew was an artificially enhanced human mind housed in a technologically advanced armiger construct. ONI knew him as 343 Guilty Spark, former monitor of a Halo installation. Rion and crew simply knew him as Spark, a being whose knowledge and abilities were unparalleled assets that any civilization would kill to get their hands on.

Now after six months and the dust having settled, a few things were working in her favor. ONI would know based on interviews and interrogations that Rion hadn’t seen her mother in sixteen years and that they hadn’t spoken in twelve, and there was nothing to suggest a change in the status quo; the chances of her turning up here were slim to none.

And as broad and far-reaching as the UNSC’s intelligence organization might be, ONI simply didn’t have enough resources to station effective teams to monitor everyone known to Rion and her crew on a long-term basis. And they certainly couldn’t sideline dozens of capable starships across Rion’s vast stomping grounds in the hopes that one day she might turn up. It just wasn’t feasible—the galaxy was too damn big to spread the fleet so thin.

A sleeper agent or two at prime locales was a possibility, but the most likely scenario was general surveillance via tech, paid informants, and locals. Good thing Rion had her own advanced surveillance. If anything should go wrong, any messages in the area sent, any ships suddenly dropping out of slipspace, Spark would initiate immediate evac. They’d be off planet and into slipspace before ONI had a chance to assemble.

In reality, though, Rion knew the biggest risk they faced from ONI was the hefty reward they were advertising across the galaxy. That kind of outsourcing was the real headache and caused all manner of self-serving opportunists and experienced pros to crawl out of the woodwork.

Another current of wind flowed in from behind her, the florus leaves bending once more to reveal their shiny underbelly, and off the ribbon of green raced. . . . She could watch the effect all day—and would if she could get away with it—but she had stalled long enough.

Putting the quad in gear, Rion began the journey south, and tried to focus on the pleasant feel of warm wind against her skin instead of her growing apprehension.

*   *   *

The small farmhouse was just off the road, set in the slope of a gentle hillside, behind a dark indigo-colored stone wall and a wide patch of short, leathery grass. White and pink cone-shaped flowers lined the front of the house, the blooms brushing against the windowsills. The residence was made of the same striated indigo stone as the wall. Wispy green bushes and potted flowers were set on either side of a sturdy pale-wood door.

In the sloping yard, a pair of overalls, three towels, and a white blanket hung on lines strung between two T-shaped poles. There wasn’t a vehicle parked in the dirt driveway, though she spied two old ag-carts in the shed as she pulled in, parked, and cut the quad’s engine.

The simplicity was staggering.

For a long time, Rion stared at the house, preparing what she’d say and working up the courage to do what needed to be done.

John Forge, United Nations Space Command Marine Corps sergeant, crew member on the Phoenix-class warship Spirit of Fire, son, husband, father . . . was gone.

He’d been gone for a very long time.

In the early stages of the Covenant War, the Spirit of Fire had pursued a Covenant destroyer into slipspace and was never seen or heard from again. For the next twenty-six years, its disappearance remained a mystery, a thorn in the heart and soul of every family member of those eleven thousand crewmembers on board.

But the Spirit hadn’t been lost with all hands like the UNSC told the families years ago. The crew had survived the journey through slipspace and come out the other side to a Forerunner shield world, one that held an entire fleet of technologically advanced warships sought by the Covenant. Had the enemy acquired that ancient fleet, it would’ve ended the war before it ever really began. Humanity wouldn’t have stood a chance.

If things had felt off the last six months—and they certainly had—it was because Rion had little interest in this new reality. At least in the previous reality her father was out there somewhere, still alive, still existing among the same stars and systems that she did. There was comfort in that. Far more than she’d realized.

Leaving Earth, running with pirates, scavenging the leftovers of one battle after another, buying her own ship, becoming a respectable salvage captain . . . the good and the bad—it all began with John Forge. Sharing the news of his passing, putting the words and knowledge out there, was final and irrevocable.

And delaying the inevitable was only making her nerves worse.

Resolved, she swung her leg over the seat, hopped off the quad, and straightened her shoulders before heading around to the front door.

As she cleared the corner, a woman appeared around the other side of the house.

Rion froze at the sight of Laine Forge.

Aging, she had expected, but this version of her mother had done a complete one-eighty. Gone was the carefully cultured city girl, and in her place was an overall-wearing, loose-braid-over-one-shoulder, bare-arms-with-biceps, middle-aged farmer with a steely glint in her eyes, no makeup, and a smudge of dirt on her brow.

Laine’s step faltered at Rion’s sudden appearance and her face drained of color. “Lucy?”

Clearing the tightness from her throat, Rion dipped her head in greeting, surprised she’d managed to hear her given name over the pounding of her heart. “Hey, Mom.”

Chapter 2

When Rion dressed that morning, she’d stared at her reflection, trying to see her adult self through her mother’s eyes. A teenager’s face no more, but one hardened by time and conflict. Frown and laugh lines had worked their way into smooth skin. Bright, hopeful eyes were now jaded by life experience. Her lithe body had become hard and solid and strong. And there were scars too. Plenty of those to go around . . .

Rion had chosen her worn-out fatigue trousers, utility belt, and light jacket over a tank top, braided her long dark hair into a low knot, and armed herself with the usual light accompaniment: utility knife, stun gun, and M6.

Tiny green songbirds with blue beneath their wings flitted back and forth from the two blond-barked trees near the house, furiously chattering, singing, and bringing much-needed noise to the silence that stretched between mother and daughter.

Seeming to recover from the shock, Laine moved toward the front door with a stiff gait. “What are you doing here?”

A warm welcome wasn’t expected, but Rion had hoped for one nevertheless. She wanted to smile, to laugh, to breathe easier and know her mother had missed her or was at least glad to see her.

But there was no hug. No smile. No gladness.

Laine gestured to the front door. “Here, why don’t you come inside.” She continued to stare at Rion with confusion, as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Rion ducked through the doorway into a small, well-built house with an open concept—small living room to the left, stairs in the center, and to the right a kitchen, which Laine entered, going to the sink to wash her hands. After drying them on a dish towel, she turned and gave Rion the once-over. “Last time I saw you in person, you were just a girl.”

“I was sixteen.”

Laine leaned against the sink and reiterated her point, “Like I said . . . ,” though Rion hadn’t been disputing it. “What are you, thirty . . . three now, right?” Rion dipped her head as Laine’s gaze became more critical. “You look like him,” she noted. “Even more now than you did back then. You always carried yourself like him too. Like a soldier.”

If only those words were a compliment or simple observation, but Rion knew them as the insult they were. Turning tail and getting back to the quad was starting to look like an excellent idea.

Laine’s eyes softened somewhat. “Please. Sit down. I just made some fresh agani juice. We grow them here on the farm.” She picked a green fruit from a bowl on the wood counter and tossed it.

Rion caught the small oval on the fly. It fit neatly into the palm of her hand, the fruit’s rind thin and covered in tiny dull spikes. She brought it to her nose and caught the scent of citrus and lemon and apple all rolled into one.

“It’s like a lime, only sweeter. Do you remember . . . ?”

“Granddad used to bring limes home from the commissary every once in a while.” A rare treat. “Don’t think I’ve had one since.” Rion rolled the agani around in her palm, watching as Laine retrieved a glass pitcher from the counter and poured two glasses of a pale liquid. “So, Sonata,” Rion said, attempting to fill the quiet with idle conversation. “Didn’t peg you for a farmer.”

Laine set the glasses on the table and pulled out a chair. “Didn’t peg you for a wanted criminal, but here we are.”

Nice to see her mother’s comeback game was still going strong. Rion sat and tried the drink, finding it more sour than she expected.

Laine snorted. “You get used to it.”

“If you say so. I hope the authorities didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“They were . . . thorough. Not like I had much to tell them.” Laine shrugged. “Barely know you anymore and said as much. So what did you do? They wouldn’t say.”

“They claim I took something that belonged to them.”

“Did you?”

“What I took was never theirs to begin with, so, no, not really.”

As Rion took another sip, Laine’s expression grew shrewd. “Why are you here now, after all this time? If you think I’m going to hide you or have the money to—”

The sip went down with a cough. “I have more than enough money. And the entire galaxy at my disposal. Believe me, there are better places to hide than this.”

Stay calm. Don’t let her get to you. Rion eased her grip on the glass. She’d learned a long time ago how to let Laine’s comments bounce off—simply stop caring and the easier it was to exist in the same space as her mother. How stupid of her to hope things would be different, that time might have dulled the sharp edges. . . .

She steadied herself and got on with it. “I have some news. About Dad.”

Laine’s whole body stilled. Several seconds passed before she shifted back in her chair and let out a sharp, disappointed laugh, as though Rion had failed some test she hadn’t known she was taking. “Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s the one to get you here. Always him . . .”

It didn’t have to be that way.

It was on the tip of her tongue to voice the thought, to remind her mother that, Yes, it was always him, because you chose to keep me at arm’s length.

“He’s dead then, I take it.”

A gasp escaped before Rion could stop it. Her heart gave a hard, painful bang. She stared straight ahead, in total disbelief, wondering if those words uttered so offhandedly had really just come out of her mother’s mouth.

Laine’s shoulders slacked and guilt clouded her eyes, showing a sliver of humanity at least. “I knew if I ever laid eyes on you again, it’d be one of two things. Either you found him, or he’s truly gone. And by the look on your face . . .” Abruptly Laine stood. “Is that all, then?”

“Isn’t that enough? Don’t you want to know what happened, how he died?”

“Lucy.” A tired expression crossed her mother’s face and seeped into her tone. “Your father died a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Yes, I know you have. You never believed he might have survived, never had the tiniest bit of hope.”

“Because I used it all up year after year when he was off on deployment, when I thought he’d change his ways.” Grief and emotion warred with anger, anger at admitting she felt anything at all. “I gave every last bit of hope I had to that man, so, no . . . I had nothing left after he went missing.”

And you had nothing left for me either.

“He died saving the crew. . . .”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m plenty busy right n—”

Rion lurched to her feet, her chair scraping loudly. Her father deserved acknowledgment. He deserved to have everyone know of his sacrifice, not to have his memory cast aside so readily. And damned if she was going to stand by and say nothing.

“Your husband—my father—stayed behind on an alien world and manually detonated the Spirit of Fire’s fusion reactor to destroy a fleet of enemy warships that most likely would have led to our extinction. He saved you . . . me . . . and everyone else in this goddamn galaxy. You can hate him all you want, but it will never change the fact that he was a hero, and a good father.”

The bang of a side door echoed from down the hallway. Loud footsteps preceded a tall kid with disheveled sandy-brown hair and grease-stained overalls. He drew up short as he entered the kitchen. The easy half grin he wore died as he glanced from Laine to Rion. The pause lasted only a few seconds before he continued into the room, first going to Laine and kissing her cheek, then opening the refrigerator door and pulling out a can.

He popped his drink and drank deeply before eyeing them again.

Clarity snapped through Rion like lightning. Laine actually had the nerve to look irritated as the kid finished his drink in long, thirsty gulps. He swiped his forearm across his mouth, then regarded them both with curiosity.

A second later, he choked and coughed. “Oh, shit. Is this her?”

Laine’s frown worsened.

He moved closer and stared eye level at Rion, thoroughly and unabashedly. A wide smile spread across his face and into his eyes. “My big sister—we meet at last.”

It felt like the whole goddamn planet had flipped upside down, then right side up.

Laine went to the sink. “You might have known about it had you ever kept in touch.”

“Pretty sure it works both ways,” Rion responded without missing a beat. “Had I gotten married or had a child, I sure as hell would have shared that with you. Not waited you out to see if you’d ever contact me again so I could drop the news.”

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” the kid said slowly. “Nice to finally meet you. You’re taller than I thought you’d be. . . . I’ll be in the shed,” he told Laine as he left the kitchen.

The room went silent. The outside door banged. The birds’ relentless chatter beyond the kitchen window filled the space once more. Now that he was gone, the revelation, the betrayal, began to sink in. Rion’s emotional fortitude was shot, leaving her raw and exposed. How could one person be so unbelievably spiteful?

“So . . . how old is he?”

“Sixteen.”

The answer shouldn’t have hurt more than anything else that had transpired so far, but it did. “You were pregnant when I left home?”

“Ran away.”

“What?”

“You ran away from home. Don’t say left like you were going on some extended trip or off to college.”

“So what, this is payback? I ran away, so you cut me out of all the important events in your life?”

“You left me, Lucy. Just like your father did. And I don’t owe either of you anything.”

And there it was—the truth, settling hard and ugly right in those raw spots. “I was just a kid—your daughter . . .” Not some shrink who could’ve seen and understood her mother’s pain.

All this time, she’d thought she was alone, an only child. Maybe she would’ve kept in touch more if she’d known. . . .

Her mother seemed to read her mind. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you’d have been any different if you knew. You still would’ve stayed away. You think I wanted my son to pine for his big sister the way I did for your father? To know you, only to watch you go away over and over again and wonder why ‘up there’ meant more to you than the people down here?”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. And so do you, if you want to be honest with yourself.”

“I gave you my waypoint. You never once left a message in all these years, that you left Earth, that you had a new family—not once.” Not even the last time they’d spoke. Goddammit, now her eyes were starting to sting. “Dad is gone,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed and tired and not knowing what else to say. “I just wanted to let you know.” She made for the door, but hesitated. Her mother didn’t reply. “Take care, Mom.”

Every step out to the quad became a mantra. Stay calm. Don’t let her get to you. One thing Rion knew for certain: she was never readier to get off solid ground.

Her new half-brother was pushing one of the old ag-carts she’d seen earlier from the shed into the driveway. He stopped when he saw her approach. “You leaving?”

She gestured to the vehicle. “She’s seen better days.” The single operator’s seat was in the back left of the vehicle overlooking a wide flat bed in the front. Carts like this one were used all over the colonies, for a variety of purposes.

“Big on understatements, are we?” He grinned. “Your quad has some age on her too. Straight M247 . . . guessing ’42 or ’43?”

One had to be a true wheel hound to know the variants down to the year. “Impressive. She’s a ’43. Can definitely take a beating.”

“I can tell.” He reached into the bed and pulled a toolbox to the edge. “Don’t mind her, okay? She’s always been a hard-ass.”

Even though he was young, he had an easy way about him that reminded her of Cade. Like her former first mate, he wasn’t afraid to really look at a person, to see past the clutter and to the heart of the matter.

“If you want to know,” he continued, “she did miss you. I mean, she’d die before admitting it, but it’s true. That’s how I found out about you—caught her looking at old photo logs a while back. Told me all about you and your dad, about how he went missing and you took off to find him. . . . Did you? Find him, I mean.”

A well of grief rose up, but Rion managed a weak smile. “Took a couple decades . . . but, yeah, I found him.” And in the process lost Cade, the man she might’ve spent the rest of her life with.

“So what you’re saying is you suck at finding things.”

Her laugh was instantaneous. If only the kid knew that’s how she made her living. “Yeah . . . you could say that.”

A sheepish grin tugged at his lips. “Sorry. You looked so sad.”

It was sweet of him to cheer her up.

“You gonna come back, now that you know about me?”

“I would like to. . . .”

“Well, if you do or you don’t . . .” He reached into his pocket and tossed her a cheap data chip. “Here’s my info. Message me sometime, if you want.” He tipped his gaze to the sky. “Always wanted to see what it’s like up there . . .”

“You’ve never been off world before? Even in orbit?”

“I wish. It’s not like we have a ship and fuel just lying around. No one around here has that kind of money.” I do, she wanted to say, gripped with the sudden desire to give the kid anything he asked for. “Who knows—maybe one day, she’ll let me go for a spin with you. . . .”