Page 37 of Hijack!
Reflexively, Felicity fumbled for her datpad. She could just do that pro/con real quick while she returned to the lifepod to check on the passengers one last time before they attempted to regain control of the ship…
Her groping hands came up empty because she’d left the device on Ellix’s chair in the command module. Like she’d given up her scrunchie. In frustration, she raked her hands through her hair, but instead of her own fine strands, her fingers tingled with the memory of lush fur.
I wanted to leave the devotion mark on you.
What would that have meant, exactly?
Did she want to know?
She would have to ask him. Maybe she could look it up first, do her own research, make a list of questions. But the truth was, the only answer that would matter was his.
She would just have to take that risk too.
After saving the ship, of course. She paused for a few calming breaths, and surprisingly, they seemed to work.
Speaking of questions, she let herself into the lifepod and was instantly besieged by a few dozen of them, plus a few demands.
“Do you have any idea how many followers are going to hear about this?”
(Yes, she did in fact know how many followers; she’d curated the passenger list with purpose. Felicity did not say this.)
“I must speak with the captain, immediately.”
(Yes, she wanted to do the same. She also did not say this.)
“Are we going to die?”
(Uhrm, hopefully no?)
That last question from Mariah deserved more than internal snarky monologue. So Felicity raised her datpad-free hands, patting the air as if she could smooth the agitation coming at her in waves.
“Everyone,” she said loudly, “if I could please have your attention.” She’d told Ellix she intended to be honest with their passengers; they deserved the truth. He’d agreed, albeit reluctantly. He’d also wanted to accompany her, in case there was “unruliness”, but she’d declined.
“This is my job,” she told him. “Let me do it while you go do yours.”
And he did. Still, she imagined some of that protective furry bulk around her as she faced the disturbed crowd.
“The power fluctuation we experienced earlier has worsened and is affecting some of the ship’s systems”—when Remy started to speak up, Felicity gave her a hard look—“including navigation and communications. We are off course with no way to call for assistance.”
Probably it was horrified shock, not her commanding presence, that kept them silent for a moment. But grateful for the reprieve, she forged on. “Though the captain and crew are working to reroute power, there may be further disruptions.” She directed a gentler look to Mariah. “We do not plan to die. And believe me, I make plans for everything.” She cast a quick glance at Ikaryo, who she knew had been silently monitoring the situation. “I’m on my way to get an update now, and I’ll be back to share that with you as soon as possible. In the meantime…”
Even though she didn’t have the datpad with her, she could picture the various appeasing phrases she’d collected for the “damage control dialogues” tab. She might’ve practiced them aloud more than once.
Not this time though. “I know this hasn’t been the fun night any of us expected,” she said, going off script. “And I am very disappointed about that because I wrote the brochure! But…maybe the most perfectly plotted course going sideways is what takes us where we never realized we needed to go.”
Not so long ago—like, maybe earlier this evening—the possibility of all her careful plans getting blown to subatomic particles would’ve made her hyperventilate. Now… Maybe she was saving all her breathlessness for a certain lion-man.
On her way down to engineering, she found herself stopping at the Starlit Salon. It was empty and dark, like the bounded oval of space through the viewport. The stars, going by too fast and far away, streaked the blackness like scars.
Or silvery tears.
“Are you here?”
The question was just a hollow echo. Sometimes, fear was a gift, her therapist had told her. And sometimes it was a weapon she wielded against herself. The trick was knowing which was which.
So she pulled the feelings button out of her pocket. It flickered uneasily in her hand—or maybe that was her shaky fingers?—until she set it on the corner of the bar. If only she could chug a strong shot of something real…
“Do you see me? Can your energy reach us this way?”
