Faith

I feel like shit leaving Rylan the way I did. When I find a damn holo of his whole fucking family on the bridge it adds to my misery.

Tucking my legs up under me in the captain’s seat I try not to wonder where he is or what he’s doing right now. Has he woken up yet? Has he discovered my betrayal?

When I saw Rylan across the bar last night, I knew he’d be my target. That’s why I smiled and welcomed him to my table. Still, I somehow allowed myself to actually be vulnerable around him. It was a huge mistake. Now it feels like my heart has been ripped out all over again. That hollow feeling is always with me, though it’s usually dull. Now it rages like it did in the first days following my abduction.

I hate that I stole from him. I hate that I got close enough to him to even care. Maybe I should have just left and found someone else to rob, but that would have cost me time and the additional risks involved are always impossible to calculate. It was the safe choice to take Rylan’s ship, even if I do feel like shit about it.

I absently touch my fingers to my lips. This was the first time I let my guard down since I’ve been out here. The first time I’ve been kissed. It wasn’t my intention to take things so far, but the connection between Rylan and me was so instant, so natural.

I look over at the holo of Rylan and his family. The masochist in me keeps it running, even though every time I look at it a fresh wave of guilt hits me. I silently pray I didn’t keep him from taking care of his sisters. No one understands more than me how important family is and I truly admired his desire to step up and take care of his family after his parents’ death. Still, my own safety comes first. I huff out a breath and try to push away my sadness. Last night was a luxury I can’t afford. Life in space isn’t about dating, it’s about survival.

I’m so lost in my guilt and shame I don’t notice the prison barge come within range. This is why you don’t let yourself get emotionally invested in things out here, you lose your focus. When the comm beeps I nearly jump out of my seat.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“CPB 12-7763 requesting permission to scan vessel,” comes in a tinny voice over the comm.

I slam my hand down on the control panel to respond. “Do you have authorization to scan?” I demand.

“Please identify your vessel,” the robotic voice states.

“Confirm, do you or do you not have authorization to scan?” I press. I’m met with a short moment of silence before the computer voice cuts out and is replaced by that of a harsh-sounding male.

“We have authorization to scan if a captain’s behavior is suspicious,” the clipped voice informs me. “Please identify your vessel.”

I pause, trying to think up a plausible name, wondering if they’re trying to catch me in a lie. “The Five Sisters,” I tell the penal barge.

“Number of occupants?”

Here’s another question I want to answer with a lie. Do I admit I’m alone?

“One.”

“State your name.”

“Rylan Graz Bregen,” I lie.

“Are you the captain of this vessel?”

“Well, I’m certainly not a stowaway,” I huff, even though my hands are trembling.

A clicking laugh issues from the comm. “It says here that Rylan Graz Bregen is a male.”

“So you’ve already scanned The Five Sisters? I was unaware I had behaved suspiciously.”

“I think I have already caught you in one lie, Graz Bregen. If I were to board you right now would I catch you in another? Like I said, your ID lists you as male…yet you sound distinctly female to me.”

“You’ll have to excuse me. I’m a lone traveller and it’s prudent to be wary. I always list my sex as male, for safety reasons. I’m sure you understand. Now, can you please tell me, is there something you need or does your barge routinely harass any private transport ships it comes across?” I try to sound unfazed and confident as I frantically search the bridge for hand-held weapons.

“I am looking for a lost criminal. A female, as a matter of fact.”

“If you’re insinuating that I’m your lost criminal, I have to tell you, you’ve made a mistake.”

“Allow us to dock and I will be the judge of that.”

My search for a weapon becomes more frantic as I dig through the storage compartments on Rylan’s ship. Luckily, I find a lone weapon secured to the underside of a control panel. I do a quick inspection of it and see the charge is set to the lowest setting, so I crank the increaser on the handle before I turn my attention back to the comm.

“Sir, you are harassing me. I have committed no crimes, nor have I given you any reason to believe that I’m acting suspiciously. This is my ship and you have no right to board it.”

“You are wrong there, female. I see your flight logs. You are leaving Nydor Station, yes? Your ID states male, yet clearly, you are female. I happen to be looking for a criminal who is female, a criminal who was lost to me on Nydor.”

“It’s not going to happen,” I say, powering up the hyper speed and tucking the blaster into my belt. “You aren’t boarding this ship.”

“A murderer will not get away on my watch.”

I cut the comm and prepare to spin the ship in a 180, but there’s the sound of tearing metal somewhere in the recesses of the ship.

“Fuck!” I cry out. Fucker was distracting me. They’ve already forced a dock. I draw my blaster and consider going out in a firefight, but I don’t want to die. The sound of booted feet echoes against the metal walls of the ship and prison guards spill onto the bridge. Their guns are aimed squarely at my chest.

“Put down your weapon!” someone shouts. I let out a long and shaking sigh, but slowly place the blaster on the floor, deciding to live to fight another day.