Page 8 of Full Speed to a Crash Landing

Oh, good. Despite delaying my rescue, she is the law-abiding sort. Not like there are many witnesses out here; she could toss me from the airlock. But I don’t think she’s seriously contemplated that option, which is refreshing. Then again, if theHalifaxis a government-funded ship, which I highly suspect, there’s probably already logs of their detour and a registry online that I’m here. Killing me would mean paperwork. I swear, I’ve been saved at least four times in my life thanks to people who just didn’t want to file the damn paperwork on me.

But don’t get me wrong. Iamappreciative of the captain and all her legalese. I automatically like anyone not actively trying to kill me, even if they won’t let me have some fun planetside.

“Refuge includes three square meals a day, right?” I ask.

Ursula grunts, which I take for a yes, and then she leaves, ignoring my very polite and friendly farewell.

Rian’s watching me. Man, those eyes. “I looked up your ship registry.”

I lick my spoon, making a little bit of a show of it, but he pretends not to notice. Cute.

“Surprised that clunker of yours has lasted as long as it did,” he adds.

“I can fix her, no worries,” I say.

“There’s a three-meter-wide hole in the side.”

“We all have our flaws.”

Rian snorts, clearly not sharing my optimism aboutGlory.“How long have youreallybeen at this site?” he asks.

I hesitate.

“I could board your ship and examine the logs,” he says.

“By all means.” I make a grand gesture. With the cofferdam link broken, Rian would have to do the same thing I did—jump out of the airlock with a positional suit and board through the breach. Of course, he’d have a full air tank, so maybe it’s not as big a deal to him.

“I would rather you just tell me.”

“You’re going to be trouble for me,” I say, sighing romantically.

“Because I ask questions?”

“Because you ask questions with a voice like that.”

“Like what?” He looks genuinely confused.

“I would rather you just tell me.”I try to emulate his deep voice, smooth as chocolate. Damn, when was the last time I had chocolate?

“I do not sound like that,” he deadpans.

“I know, you sound much sexier, but I’mtrying.”

“I don’t sound sexy!”

I just raise my eyebrow. Unlike before, I forget for a second that my eyes are stained red and the purple bags under them probably make me look half-dead. Then I remember and grab my spoon, stuffing more lentils into my mouth before I say something else that’s dumb.

“Anyway,” I say, “you can check the logs if you want, but I only beat theHalifaxhere by two days.” Like I already said once, and I don’t for a second doubt he knows that. He’s testing me, my story. But I’m not going to trip up that easy.

“Did you go down to the crash site?” he asks, all gravity. Nothing hotter than a focused man.

“Yup,” I say.

That gets a reaction. I think he expected me to lie or play around.

“What did you find?” he asks.

I shrug. “Metal. As one would expect.”

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