#satun

“How are we looking?” the captain asked as Thiel tapped the hull on his way out of the ship.

“Getting there.”

“Then what are you doing out here?”

“Supervising,” Thiel said with a straight face. The joke didn’t land well. The captain stared until Thiel coughed and muttered something about getting back to it. So much for higher rank, higher privileges. Or maybe it was just karma coming back for him for the way he’d left Titan. Thiel left bruises in the cargo, trying not to think about that. The crew loitered around the ship after the last of it was secured, Thiel staring at the gate above his head, a glance into what awaited them beyond Pluto’s icy frontier.

Nothing. A black void hung where the night sky should have been.

The captain came back, tucking his tablet into his jacket and shaking hands with the dockmaster. He turned to the crew and started in on the usual bullshit speech. Thiel couldn’t take his eyes off the sliver of the void through the space-port. The future seemed bleak indeed.

“You all know what you signed up for. This run won’t be easy. Here’s your last chance to back out. I won’t count you less, but either speak up or buck up.”

The same speech Thiel had heard a thousand times and dismissed nine hundred and ninety-nine.

He lingered with the captain as the crew began filing into the spaceship.

“I’m not coming any further.”

His heart was pounding, and he was less sure of this decision by the second. His father was right—he was never anything but rash.

The captain grabbed his arm. “I know you’ve had misgivings about this assignment from the start, but I can’t lose my second in command, right before launch.”

Demeter had slowed when she saw Thiel hanging back with the captain. Thiel had always had a bad feeling about the whispered conversations between the captain and Demeter, and that corner of the cargo bay that didn’t seem to match the ship schematics.

He would have had a worse feeling about this, but the blunt end of Demeter’s service weapon was a bit of a surprise.

Thiel woke woozy and disoriented in his own cabin, sprawled on his own sheets with a ringing headache. The captain had made his position clear. If Thiel left now, he’d be stripped of his rank and subjected to all the incivilities of civilian laws.

However, Thiel Augustus Patterson was never one to half-ass stupid decisions. He stumbled to his door, finding the keypad locked. He punched in the emergency override code, watching the door slide open and waiting for the response of someone outside.

Of course, the hall was empty. They were minutes from launch and running on a skeleton crew. There was no one to guard him, and no time to revoke his credentials. Thiel took off down the musty corridors.

He rounded the corner to the airlock, seeing the corner of another ship docked in port. He was so close to freedom.

And then Demeter emerged from the shadows, a smile on her face, waiting. She opened her mouth, but Thiel didn’t quite feel like bantering. He closed the gap and slugged her.

Contrary to a few of the stories floating around the pubs back on Titan, Thiel had never actually punched someone before.

Demeter caught his arm on the backstroke and twisted, pain shooting up into Thiel’s shoulder.

He kicked, connecting with Demeter’s leg just below the knee.

She grimaced and dug her fingernails into his arm. Thiel twisted, hearing footsteps in the hall behind him.

“Captain!” Demeter yelled, digging her claws further into his skin. Thiel came at her head with his other hand, smacking his open palm against her ear.

Someone was rounding the bend into the airlock.

You’re never going to see him again.

The black sky above the planet filled his mind, filled his lungs. In a surge of panic, Thiel swung his arm as hard as he could, sending Demeter into the wall with a sickening crack. She let go.

Thiel never looked to see the damage, just ran.

He was fairly certain he’d broken his hand, but that was not important right now. Outside, he found himself in an unfamiliar cargo bay, but that was an advantage. His crew didn’t know it either, and the captain had too much pride to ask the local port authorities for help.

A solid month later, Thiel was standing in front of Saturn and her rings in all their glory, staring at them through a thick plate-glass window that was a ridiculous luxury on a space station.

He felt someone staring before he turned to see Soren leaning against the wall, staring in surprise. Thiel couldn’t help the grin. It had been months.

“You’re back,” Soren said.

Not surprised. Shocked. 


“I’m sorry,” Thiel whispered. The words hung in the air, crowded out by the hum of the ventilation system, and Thiel realized he might not have spoken loud enough to be heard. He cleared his throat.

“I know,” Soren said, joining him at the window, standing close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“I said some awful things.”

“Did you mean them?”

“I don’t now.”

More silence.

“How are you back? The ship passed the heliosphere three days ago.”

“I took a wrong turn on Pluto, must have missed launch.”

Soren snorted. “You’ve never been late for work a day in your life.”

“Something came up,” Thiel said, staring openly at Soren, who colored up and turned back to Saturn.

“You don’t seem happy that I’m back,” Thiel said tentatively, aware he didn’t deserve as much.

“No, I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Soren said, hugging him. The scent of his shampoo overwhelmed Thiel, the feel of his shoulders under his hands. The weight of him in his arms.

Thiel had expected fire and brimstone and a hell of a fight. What he got was Soren. A lump swelled in his throat. God above, he did not deserve this man.

“I think you still owe me a proper apology.”

Thiel laughed, hiding his face in Soren’s neck.