Lyra sat in the co-pilot's seat, watching Dariux work the controls. A look of concentration was etched deep onto his face as he stared at the viewscreen that showed the vast emptiness of space beyond. After they'd made love, they'd showered together, relishing the feeling of closeness between them.

Though they hadn't said much to each other since getting out of the shower – they were both caught up in their thoughts – every time Dariux looked at her, his expression was one that made her heart swell. He looked at her with something in his eyes that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but one that made her body hum with an electricity, a sense of happiness that she'd never known.

"Computer," Dariux said.

"Yes, Captain?"

"How long until we reach the Andromeda?"

"On current course and speed, estimated time of arrival is fourteen hours and twelve minutes," the computer replied.

"What's the Andromeda?" Lyra asked.

"It's an old USF capital ship that's now a derelict floating around in space," he said. "Now, it's one of the locations the Syndicate is using to stage their gladiator fights. It's where I'm supposed to be taking you and the others."

"Sounds charming."

Dariux nodded distractedly, but didn't say anything in return. She could see the struggle in his eyes. Could see the fear and worry. A stab of guilt shot through Lyra and she let out a long breath.

"I meant what I said earlier," she said. "I didn't make love to you with the expectation of you not delivering me to the Syndicate."

"I know," he said.

"There's no pressure," she replied. "You need to do what's in your own best interest. I swear to you that I hold no ill judgment."

Dariux turned and looked at her, a shy, sheepish smile on his face. "Honestly, I don't know what's in my own best interest right now," he said. "I took this job without ever considering what I was doing. I just wanted to do right by my mother."

"And that's a good, honorable thing," she said.

"I'm beginning to think it's less honorable knowing that I'll be delivering you and the others to your deaths," he replied, a note of sadness in his voice.

Lyra shrugged but had no other words. Obviously, she didn't want him to take her to the fighting pits aboard that derelict ship. She had no desire to die. But, she also didn't want him to die for her. And she certainly didn't want his mother to die for her. They were as caught in the middle of this whole thing as she was and it wasn't fair to any of them. But then, when was life fair to anybody except the wealthy and powerful?

Lyra though, was not willing to sacrifice anybody else's life just to save her own.

"Listen," she said. "I'm going to head back to the box. Just close the lid and deliver me along with the others. It's okay. I swear to you."

A brittle laugh bubbled up out of his throat. "If my mother knew what I was doing, if she knew I was delivering people to those butchers – she'd be ashamed of me."

"I doubt she'd be ashamed of you, Dariux," Lyra said. "You are a good man with a good heart."

"And she always taught me to value life and to always do the right thing," he said. "This job – trafficking living beings – it's neither valuing life or doing the right thing."

Lyra fell silent and looked at the viewscreen again. She had no words to offer him. She couldn't refute what he said or provide much in the way of comfort. He was right in that the job didn't value life and wasn't the right thing to do. But, on the other side of that coin, he was in a no-win position and was doing the best he could just to scrape by.

His life, although the circumstances were different, mirrored hers in a lot of ways. She often had to do the wrong thing just to get by. Just to survive. And she didn't have a loved one with a terrible disease to consider on top of it all.

No, Lyra knew that her life was terribly hard and she did what she had to do to keep on surviving. But, compared to what Dariux had on his plate, the life that hung in the balance with his every decision – no, she didn't envy him one bit.

"Before I left for this job, my mother told me that it was time to let her go," Dariux said softly. "She said I was taking on too much and that she didn't want to be a burden. She said that I needed to live my life for myself and stop going to extremes to save her."

"I don't want to sound insensitive," Lyra said softly. "But, it sounds like your mother knows what she wants."

Dariux was silent a long moment, his gaze fixed on the viewscreen, staring at the bleak, cold emptiness beyond the ship.

"I know she does," he said. "But, she's my mom. And when the whole world around me was shit, she was the one good thing in my life. She was the only one who tried to lift me up and inspire me to be more. And on that count, I know I failed her. I'm a smuggler. Just like my father before me."

"I can't tell you what to do, Dariux. Nor will I try," Lyra said. "All I can tell you is to do whatever you feel in your heart is right. Make the decision you can live with."

His laugh was wry. "Or not live with, if I don't do the job and they kill me."

Another lance of guilt pierced Lyra's heart. She wasn't going to try to sway his decision. All she knew was that she felt a real connection to Dariux. She felt a bond with him, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It was crazy, given how little time they'd spent together and how little she knew about him, but what she did know, what she intuited about him, she found utterly compelling.

The sat in a contemplative silence for a long time. When she looked at him, she could tell Dariux was deep in thought, his emotions at war with his logic. She knew he felt something for her – probably along the same lines as what she felt for him. Somehow, they just seemed to fit together. When they touched, there was an electricity between them. So powerful, it was palpable.

"Computer," Dariux said, finally breaking the silence.

"Yes, Captain?"

"What is the nearest planet?"

There was a brief pause as the computer compiled the information. "The nearest planet," it finally said, "is Torv."

"Time to Torv?"

"Five hours, thirteen minutes."

"Lay in a course to Torv."

"Captain," the computer replied. "A detour to Torv will put us off schedule and we will not be able to make up the time to arrive at the Andromeda by the required deadline."

Lyra looked over at him, her eyes a little wider, a flicker of hope blossoming in her chest. Dariux looked over at her, a roguish little smile on his face.

"We're not going to the Andromeda," he said. "New plan. Lay in the course to Torv."

"Course correction confirmed, Captain," the computer replied.

"What are you doing?" Lyra asked.

"The right thing," he replied.