Queen of Starlight by Jessa Slade Page B

the morning light, but over the tree line, thin curls of smoke still rose from the village. He found the comm link in the pocket of his vest and wrapped the wire behind his ear.
    “Evessa? Status.”
    “Good morning, Captain.” She rattled off the ship’s condition in a comforting torrent of borderline gibberish. This was a song he understood. “Basically,” she concluded. “All’s well. Including yourself, it seems.”
    “For the moment.”
    “As always, Captain.”
    He grunted. “Where’s Patter?”
    “Behind you, sir.”
    Corso turned to find his first crouched under the low window of Benedetta’s bedroom, scrawling on his tablet.
    Corso stalked over to tower above him. “How much did you hear?”
    “Wasn’t sure she wouldn’t try something while you were unconscious.” Patter snickered. “But I only thought she might try to kill you, not do that .”
    Despite years of military discipline and more years of mercenary mayhem, Corso’s cheeks heated. “You could have moved a little quicker to save me.”
    The leer dropped off Patter’s face, and he lifted one eyebrow quizzically. “You didn’t want… Sorry, Captain, I thought you were playing hard to get.” He rattled the stylus against the tablet as if equally abashed, but then slanted a glance upward. “You really wouldn’t be willing to be her slave?”
    “ She is the slave,” Corso reminded him.
    Patter shook his head. “If you say so.”
    Corso synced their tablets. If only he could download the enigmatic l’auralya’s thoughts with as few clicks. For all that her skin was inked in silver like a star map of her physical desires, he was finding that, inside, she was as tangled as the most dangerous of uncharted sheerways. He’d have to find some other way to unravel her.
    For some reason, that dire thought accelerated his pulse, and he steadied his suddenly trembling hand on the tablet; he’d never been the sort to risk a flameout just to see how hot the engines ran. “I want options in an hour and specs on a plan by midday.”
    “I hope lunch is as tasty as dinner last night,” Patter mused. He ducked away when Corso glared at him. “You should bring the rest of the crew in. They could use some unfiltered sunlight. And dessert.”
    “I don’t want to be caught with cold engines.” Corso scowled when Patter sighed mournfully. “Fine. We’ll swap out after lunch. I want guns on the ground anyway.”
    Patter tilted his head. “You think we can pull this off? One ship against who knows what?”
    Though the broken ribs were the more recent injury, Corso’s scarred shoulders ached when he shrugged. “No choice.”
    Patter stared down at his blank screen. “Now who’s the slave?”

Chapter Six
    Benedetta spent the day checking on the wounded in the village and reviewing accounts for beginning the reconstruction. Qv’arratz had placed fewer l’auraly in the past several decades which meant a decline in the planet’s coffers. Yecho and Rislla had noted that at current rates of expenditures, they’d be bankrupt in another decade. Not that they could order in Union building materials anyway, not when they were likely under attack by Union raiders.
    As the sun set and the first of the three moons rose, she and the other l’auraly wrapped themselves in veils of palest moth green and stood on the hill beyond the villagers’ burial grounds to sing the dead to sleep.
     
    From darkness, to darkness,
    The day between is done,
    We close our eyes
    To step into the still water,
    And we are home .
     
    As the last notes of the chorus faded away, she focused on the low rumbling voice behind her: Corso, giving his orders.
    “Keep your comm links open,” he was telling the black-clad crew gathered around him. “The Asphodel will make a quick orbital survey then be back overhead for the night.”
    Leaving the l’auraly behind her, Benedetta hastened to join him. “You’re going?”
    “Not far, not with half my crew down here.”
    She