“Then I feel sorry for you. If becoming a cyborg mutes your emotions, and you can’t appreciate beauty and music, especially Talyani’s music, the universe must be a very cold place for you.”
Ganesha didn’t reply, only turned around in the pilot’s seat to prepare to disconnect from the Celerity. Looking at the main screen, he contacted Ranvir.
“Five minutes, Major.”
“Understood, we’re getting the last of them in now. Get us out of here as soon as you verify the hatch is sealed.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Ganesha assuming she was useless bothered Taly. Yes, he’d supported that she was technically captain of the Troubadour, but she realized it was only because it was logical. Cyborgs were nothing if not logical. She’d gleaned that from her conversations with Nas, especially after he became a cyborg.
She’d forgotten that with her interactions with Ranvir. With him, she sensed more than a logical cyborg. At least she hoped so because she was beginning to care a great deal for him. Rounding the corner, she ran into a mass of crying people huddled together.
“No! You can’t seal the hatch yet! My husband is still on the ship!” one woman cried out.
“He should have stayed with the group,” Ranvir told her coldly.
“He went to get our credits!” The woman told him, clenching a baby tightly to her chest. “How can we start a new life with no credits?”
“You’ll have to find out as your husband has abandoned you.” Ranvir’s attention went to his men. “Pike. Tane. Get to the bridge.”
Taly was stunned at how cold and callous Ranvir appeared. Didn’t he understand this young female’s fear? She was a female alone in space—a female with a child. The odds of either of them surviving were slim to none without credits. Taly wanted to reassure her, but right now, she needed to get these people somewhere safe.
Walking up to the crying female, she put a comforting arm around her. “Let’s get you and your baby somewhere more comfortable.” She looked to the rest of the group. “All of you. We need to distance ourselves from your ship before it explodes.”
Taly kept her arm around the young woman as she led the group to the largest room on the ship. The concert hall. It was where she refined her craft en route to performances. It was also where she gave private performances for dignitaries, something her father had insisted.
Taly fought him at first, but she changed her mind when she’d learned the obscene number of credits they were willing to pay. She knew some would see that as wrong, but those credits allowed her to lower the admission price for her public concerts, allowing everyone to attend.
“Why don’t you sit here,” she encouraged, leading the woman to one of the plush oversized viewing chairs, “and I’ll help you strap in.”
Pushing a button on the chair’s arm, a harness wrapped in kani fur appeared.
“Why do we need to be strapped in?” the female sobbed.
“It’s just a precaution. We’ll have to ride out the shock wave if we’re not far enough away from your ship when it explodes.” She looked to the others who had followed them into the room. “Everyone. Find a seat and strap in. The harness release is on the chair’s right arm.”
Taly quickly moved around the room, helping people settle, and saw that a large, blue-skinned male was doing the same. No one else would notice the difference, but she recognized the slight vibration signaling it was picking up speed. She was nearly finished when the ship began violently rolling from side to side.
She grabbed for the arm of the closest chair but missed and flew across the aisle. Her back slammed into a wall. Crying out, she tried to regain her balance, but another roll of the ship tipped her forward. Her hip banged into the side of a chair. She fell, and her face butted against one of the supports.
Stunned, she still managed to wrap her arms around a support before her body was lifted off the floor and slammed back down onto it, knocking the breath out of her. Closing her eyes, she tightened her grip on the support and prayed it would be over soon.