The Lost Star Episode One

  Chapter Five

  Ava

  “You seem kind of distracted,” Nema said as she walked by Ava’s side.

  They were on a scanning detail through the belly of the ship.

  The Mandalay had megalithic storage bays. They’d yet to be filled. Nema and Ava had to scan them to ensure internal scanners were properly aligned before any cargo was shipped in.

  They walked down a wide, massive corridor used to ferry cargo from bay to bay.

  Every footstep echoed.

  “I’m not distracted,” Ava suddenly answered when she stopped thinking long enough to consider Nema’s question.

  Nema snorted. “Yeah, sure, that’s why you keep sighing. But it’s totally okay to be distracted, considering what happened to you yesterday. I can’t believe you’re back at work already.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Nema gave a long-suffering sigh. “If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t believe that. But because you’re you – the bravest damn person I have ever met – I guess you’re right. So what’s distracting you then?”

  Ava dropped her gaze.

  “Come on. I knew you have to keep a lot bottled up for cultural reasons, but unload what you can.”

  “… I’m starting to question whether this is the right post for me,” Ava answered. It’s not what she wanted to say. What she wanted to point out was she felt nervous.

  Not fearful, just concerned that something wasn’t right.

  Her locks withheld most of her subtle powers. In her true form, she had senses beyond the ordinary. With the armlets hemming her in, she could access nothing more than this diffuse feeling that something was wrong.

  She tried to tell herself it was nothing. But it wasn’t working.

  Nema suddenly nudged her softly with her elbow. “Hey, the next hangar bay we’re meant to scan is enormous. Great acoustics.”

  “Ha?”

  “I’m trying to tell you I’ll go ahead and do the corridors – you scan the bay. And then you’ll get a chance to sing. I know you love it. And you never get a chance to practice. So go ahead.” Nema pointed to the massive cargo bay doors.

  Ava considered her friend, a true smile spreading her lips. “Thank you,” she said honestly.

  Nema shrugged. “What are friends for? Now go ahead.” She gave Ava another friendly shove.

  Ava needed no more encouragement. She walked toward the massive doors.

  They reminded her of the dark temple’s gates.

  Every priestess had to undergo intermittent periods of isolation. They started as an initiate at the age of nine. You were taken into the temple tunnels and left to survive for a year.

  Those who could not look after themselves could not become priestesses.

  Those who could would never forget the darkness.

  As Ava walked forward and the massive doors opened, the lights took several seconds to blink on.

  In those several seconds, she enjoyed the dark, and she began to sing.

  It was the one skill that wasn’t locked off from her. The one skill that reminded her of her true power.

  The one skill she wasn’t ashamed of. It came with no responsibilities – just freedom.

  She began with a haunting melody. It echoed around the expansive room, easily filling the cargo bay, despite its size.

  The more she sang, the less unsure she felt.

  It reminded her she was no pushover.

  It reminded her, that under these locks, whether she liked it or not, she was an Avixan priestess.

  …

  Lieutenant Hunter McClane

  “You must be in the dog house, Lieutenant,” B’cal chuckled to himself as he walked side-by-side with Hunter.

  Hunter pretended not to know what B’cal was talking about.

  “Captain McClane is usually reasonable. To put you on engineering duty, he’s either punishing me or you. Now as far as I’m aware, I haven’t done anything wrong. You, on the other hand, trashed a lift.”

  “I think you’ll find I didn’t trash it. It was faulty. I did almost die yesterday, chief.”

  B’cal laughed. He also clapped a hand on Hunter’s back.

  B’cal’s race said it how they saw it. They were about as subtle as a slap.

  “Shrug it off. You lived. Most wouldn’t have in that situation. Now, whatever you’ve done to piss off your brother, shrug it off too. The Captain’s a reasonable guy. He’ll let you off the hook.”

  Hunter didn’t respond.

  “Cheer up, Lieutenant, that’s an order. Today’s a different day. I promise.” B’cal stopped before one of the enormous cargo bay doors. “Here we go. I think this is the one. According to my exceedingly unreliable sensors, this cargo bay should be the best to adapt to a weapons depot. Why the Captain thinks we need another, I don’t know. But he’s put you in charge of assessing this. So here we go.”

  B’cal walked toward the massive doors, and they opened.

  Instantly, singing met their ears.

  Powerful, incredible singing.

  At first, due to the clarity and sheer volume, he thought it was a recording being piped through the internal audio system.

  Then he saw her.

  He knew who it was, even with her back turned to him.

  There was only one person aboard the Mandalay with hair like that.

  Ava.

  She obviously had no idea the doors had opened. She was leaning over something, maybe a scanner, her song so strong and strident, it could have muffled a cruiser engine.

  B’cal gave a soft, impressed laugh.

  Hunter didn’t make a sound.

  He was too engrossed.

  His body was, too.

  It was the kind of singing that sent tingles racing up your arms and stood your hair on end.

  Finally, B’cal started clapping.

  Ava stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Oh. Sorry,” she called, “I didn’t see you there.” She jogged up.

  B’cal put his hands on his hips and laughed. “Do not let us stop you,” he said with honest passion spreading his wrinkled face. “That was amazing. I haven’t heard a performance like that in years. My people value singing as the highest art form, and you. Ensign, have a true talent.”

  She blushed slightly. When Avixans blushed, they turned blue, and a pretty smattering touched her pale cheeks.

  She nodded forward. “I didn’t think it would be a problem. The cargo bay was empty, and I was still completing my scans.” She proffered her scanner as evidence.

  B’cal didn’t even glance at it. He was too busy looking ecstatic at Ava’s performance. “Ensign, I don’t care if you were slacking off – that was a pleasure to hear. Why didn’t I know you could sing like that?”

  “Ah, we’ve only met over an intercom, sir.”

  B’cal’s face crumpled. Then his smile froze. “You were the Ensign from the lift incident.”

  She nodded. “Ava.”

  “Well, by all reports, you did some pretty quick thinking yesterday, Ava.”

  She nodded bashfully again. “I had help. I wouldn’t have survived without the lieutenant here.”

  Hunter didn’t say a word.

  There was no point.

  Because this was all an act, wasn’t it? Sure, she looked sweet and decent, but he knew the truth.

  She looked up at him, and he knew she registered his hard expression.

  B’cal, on the other hand, was clueless. “What rotation are you on right now, Ensign?”

  “General. I’m assigned to whatever department needs hands.”

  “Well, I’m going to make a request to have you transferred to Engineering. You’re quick, and I need people like you. Especially now this whole ship is falling apart.”

  She gave another polite nod. “Thank you, sir. Though I should warn you – I’m not physically quick. I have… an impairment.”

  B’cal snorted. “I don’t care. This is the future. We can account for that. And now you’ve told me, I’ll
just adjust your detail.”

  She glanced up at Hunter before returning her attention to B’cal. “Thank you for being understanding, sir.”

  Hunter knew 100% what she was thinking. He was the asshole who couldn’t accept her physical limitations, while B’cal didn’t appear to care.

  Except Hunter knew the truth here. All questions of physical ability aside, Ensign Ava shouldn’t be on this ship.

  She didn’t deserve it.

  “Plus,” B’cal suddenly boomed through a laugh, “With you under my command, I can get you to sing whenever I want.”

  “I’m not really sure singing comes under your command, but I’ll see what I can do,” Ava replied with a friendly smile.

  B’cal gave a satisfied laugh. “Alright then. Get back to work. Ensign. And don’t let us stop you from singing.”

  “Don’t you think that would be inappropriate?” Hunter spat.

  B’cal slowly slid his gaze over to Hunter. “No. But do you have a problem with it, Lieutenant?”

  “It’s distracting. She should focus on her tasks.”

  B’cal slowly lifted his single eyebrow and focused his single eye on Hunter. “I didn’t see you complaining a couple of minutes ago. You couldn’t take your eyes off her.”

  Hunter became rigid as blood rushed to his neck and chest.

  He cleared his throat and took a step back. “It’s inappropriate. It will distract people.”

  “Well, that’s your opinion. She’s under my command,” B’cal stressed, “And I say it’s okay. With a rank of commander, I trump you on this one. So, sing away. Ensign. And I’ll finalize that transfer when I get back to my office.”

  Hunter didn’t react. B’cal had given him a not-so-subtle dressing down in front of Ava.

  Then again, Ava didn’t seem to care.

  She looked calm, a marked difference from the distraction she’d shown yesterday.

  That calm irritated him more than anything. She must have realized he was angry at her – anyone with an ounce of emotional awareness would know he couldn’t stand to be this close to her.

  Yesterday, he hadn’t wanted to leave her side when she’d been injured.

  Now he’d changed.

  She should be shocked. Hurt. Angry. Something.

  Instead, she looked as calm and unperturbed as ever.

  Which only served to prove everything he thought he knew about her. He cleared his throat. “Chief, can I have a word in the corridor?”

  “What’s this about?” B’cal asked.

  “It’s to do with the Captain’s intended purpose for this cargo bay,” Hunter lied.

  B’cal conceded with a shrug, nodded at Ava, and left the room.

  As soon as the doors closed behind him, B’cal turned and locked a three-fingered hand on his hip. “What’s this really about?”

  “Don’t trust her,” Hunter blurted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Look… ah…” Hunter had no idea what to say. Not without it sounding stupid.

  “Speak up, Lieutenant.” B’cal crossed his arms. “What’s your problem with Ensign Ava? You sore that she saved you yesterday?”

  “No. Just… look, she’s not loyal.”

  “And how exactly have you concluded that?”

  “Look, I can’t really go into it, but the other Avixans have a justified problem with her. She’s not loyal,” he defaulted to saying, knowing he couldn’t break Meva’s trust by revealing the full truth.

  “Ah, Avixans. I’ve worked with a couple. Strange mob. Usually as spiky as a Waridian tiger. But Ava’s been competent, polite, and friendly in both the interactions I’ve had with her so far. So I’m going to go on that,” B’cal concluded pointedly.

  Hunter locked his jaws together.

  He wouldn’t win this.

  Suddenly the doors behind them opened. Ava burst out.

  B’cal spun to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “My scanners are picking up a fleeting life sign,” she blurted, scanner clutched in her hand as she spun around on the spot.

  B’cal used his tail to snatch the scanner from her hand.

  “I only picked it up when I walked to the far corner of the room. I ran out here, but.…” Her eyes were wide with fear as she twisted around in the corridor. “My friend Nema’s out here somewhere.”

  B’cal’s fingers flew over the controls.

  Then he punched forward, showing considerable speed for his large form. “She’s in the second airlock.”

  Ava sprang forward.

  Though she could barely keep up, her breathing so labored she sounded as if she’d cough up a lung, she didn’t drop behind.

  The three of them ran to the second airlock.

  It wasn’t a primary airlock. It was used to vent atmosphere in a controlled manner before the airlock was opened.

  And right now it was running through a venting procedure.

  A terrified female Ensign was banging against the glass window of the door as the atmosphere slowly vented from the lock.

  “What the hell?” B’cal roared as he threw himself at the airlock. His fingers raced so quickly over the controls, he could have started a fire.

  With a beep, the doors opened.

  But only for a fraction of a second. Long enough that a burst of oxygen sailed past them and whipped into the rapidly venting room, but not enough to get the Ensign out.

  “Nema,” Ava screamed as she threw herself against the door.

  Nema fell back, face practically blue.

  B’cal swore in his mother tongue, the word cracking out with all the ferocity of a blast. “I can’t stop the venting. These doors are jamming. I can’t keep them open long enough.”

  They opened again for a fraction of a second, then closed with a snap.

  B’cal swore.

  Nema was on the ground. Hunter watched her from the glass window, heart in his throat.

  There was nothing any of them could do.

  “Can you get the door open again?” Ava screamed.

  “It won’t do any good,” B’cal snapped.

  “Just do it,” she snapped back.

  He did it.

  And in that split second, Ava shoved her right arm through the gap.

  His heart froze as he expected her arm to be clean cut off.

  It wasn’t. The doors jammed against her right armlet.

  They slammed into it with enough power to snap steel, but they couldn’t snap the armlet.

  Atmosphere rushed past them into the venting room.

  Ava’s body was crunched at a painful angle, but she squeezed herself forward, pushing her face against the gap in the door. “Nema? Nema? You okay? Grab my hand.”

  Nema slowly lifted her head, stretched out a weak arm, and grabbed her friend’s hand.

  She was alive.

  Hunter felt like whooping.

  He didn’t get the chance.

  The atmosphere sensors in the corridor started blaring.

  “Aha, at least something still works,” B’cal spat in triumph. “The hull breach shields should come on and secure the vent system.” Even as the chief spoke, it happened – blue crackling shields spread across the top of the secondary vent room.

  They prevented the vents from sucking the oxygen out.

  “Right, let’s get these doors open.” He pressed himself into the task, drawing his face close to the panel as he broke it open in a powerful move and started manipulating the neural circuits within.

  There was a beep, and the doors opened.

  Ava fell forward but punched out a hand so she didn’t fall on Nema.

  There was a crunch. It was Ava’s wrist.

  That didn’t stop her from pushing back and folding over her friend. “Are you okay?”

  Nema pushed up slowly with Ava’s help. Her dark features were understandably drawn. After a deep reassuring breath, she nodded. Then she collapsed her arms around Ava. “Thanks to you.”

  “Chief B’cal saved you,” Ava
clarified with a happy laugh.

  “I’m not sure about that,” B’cal pointed out, “If you hadn’t sacrificed life and limb, that room would have vented. Now get out of there.”

  Ava pushed up, wincing as she helped Nema to her feet.

  Hunter was no expert, but it looked as if Ava had broken her wrist.

  Ava supported her friend until they walked a few meters down the corridor. Then she propped Nema against a wall and jogged back. “What do we do?” Ava looked straight at B’cal.

  “Me, I pull my hair out trying to figure out how the hell another fatal accident almost happened on my watch. I also pull another detail off gravity control to fix it. You. Ensign, you go to the med bay because unless I’m very much mistaken, you broke your wrist. How you didn’t lose an arm, is another story.” He looked across at her right armlet. “It’s not even dented. What the hell is that thing made of? Triplated bularium?”

  At first, she looked as if she wouldn’t answer. Then she slipped her gaze toward the wall. “They’re ceremonial. They’re the most important objects I’ll ever own.”

  B’cal shrugged. “Well, they sure came in handy. Now get to the med bay. Lieutenant, take them both,” he ordered as he took a step back and considered the secondary vents.

  Hunter stiffened.

  He had no option but to follow orders.

  Ava rushed back to Nema and wrapped an arm around her back.

  Before Hunter could turn to leave, B’cal leaned in close. “You were questioning her loyalty, Lieutenant? You don’t see selfless acts like that every day. She belongs on this ship,” he concluded as he turned and started manipulating the controls to the door, conversation clearly over.

  Hunter didn’t respond.

  There was nothing to say.

  He walked in silence as he followed the two ensigns to the med bay.

  His head was swimming with questions by the time they made it.

  Nema was a little out of breath, but mostly fine.

  Ava’s arm, however, was a different matter. Her wrist was already turning purple, the break obviously a bad one.

  As soon as Ava walked in, Chen saw her. With a frown denting his cheeks, he walked up. “Don’t tell me you’re injured again?”

  “There was an accident with one of the secondary airlocks. Ensign Nema Baka here was almost suffocated.”

  Chen snapped into action.

  He motioned several junior doctors over, and they helped Nema onto a gurney.

  Hunter stood there staring at the back of Ava’s head, gaze darting down to her broken wrist.

  “Aren’t you going to tell them about your injury?” he eventually snapped.

  She didn’t even bother to respond.

  He took a sharp step beside her.

  She glanced up at him slowly. “My wrist can wait. When there’s time, I’ll get myself seen to.”

  He pressed his teeth together so tightly it felt as if he would bore down into his jaw. “There’s no need to pretend you’re selfless. You’re injured, now get your injuries seen to.”

  She didn’t move. She returned her gaze over to Nema. “I believe you’re done here, Lieutenant. I can watch over Nema.”

  He let out a stiff, bitter laugh. He could pull her up on that, or he could just walk out and leave her to stand there in pain.

  He knew which was more satisfying.

  He turned and stalked out.

  His cruel bravado didn’t take him far.

  As soon as the doors swished closed, a pang of guilt crossed his heart.

  She was injured.

  He had a duty.

  So he turned and walked back in.

  He expected Ava to be over with a doctor. He expected – no, wanted to believe – that she’d just put on a face of bravery to irritate him.

  He was wrong. She was standing exactly where he’d left her.

  Swallowing his pride and anger, he walked up to Chen. “There’s another injury. Ensign Ava broke her wrist.”

  Chen looked around, gaze locking on Ava’s left wrist.

  It was purple and black now.

  Chen paled and rushed over. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  “No, please, concentrate on Nema. I’ll be fine,” Ava tried.

  “I’m not talking to you. Ensign,” Chen said as he sliced his gaze toward Hunter.

  Chen’s look said it all.

  Hunter took a step back. He didn’t need this right now. He turned to leave.

  “Lieutenant, do you mind hanging around? I’ll need you to clarify exactly what happened,” Chen said.

  Hunter had to swallow his pride for a second time as he forced a nod.

  Chen helped Ava to a bed and began scanning her arm. “I’m going to need you to take your armlets off. I know Avixans don’t take their ceremonial wristbands off. However, I also know on extreme medical grounds they can be taken off. This is an extremely bad break. I was able to work around your armlets twice yesterday, but I have to access the bone under your band.”

  “I can’t take them off,” she answered in a quiet tone.

  “I know it’s a ceremonial faux pas. I can do it in a private room. But they have to come off.”

  She wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. “I can’t take them off.”

  “Ensign, this is a direct order. You need to show me how to remove them.”

  “I can’t take them off,” she repeated, still staring at the wall.

  That pissed Hunter off. Here Chen was trying to do his best, and she was ignoring him.

  Prickly anger spiked up his back. “Ensign, follow a direct order.”

  “My armlets do not come off,” she said in a stronger tone, the first time she’d ever responded in like kind to his anger.

  “Yes, they do. I know they can’t be that important; I’ve seen Meva take hers off plenty of times,” he snapped.

  Ava looked at him, shock shattering her expression. Her eyes grew wide, her cheeks slackened, and her lips stiffened and parted.

  The intensity of her reaction was enough to send a bolt of nerves shooting down his back.

  “She… takes her bands off?” Ava asked in a stuttering tone.

  It was like he’d just told her Meva was the devil.

  He suddenly realized he might have just shared an intimate detail that could get Meva in trouble.

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Chen asked diplomatically, a touch of concern arcing through his words, no doubt at Ava’s strong reaction.

  “It’s forbidden,” her voice dropped low. “Avixan society does not permit the removal of locks.”

  Locks.

  She called them locks.

  All this time he’d thought those bands were just adornments. What if they weren’t? What if they were reminders of how shackled most of Avixan society was?

  Come to think of it, Ava’s armlets were massive. They spanned her entire forearms and were made of an unusual gold metal that looked expensive. Were they a symbol of her position in Avixan society? A permanent reminder to the other Avixans onboard that she was better than them?

  His muscles constricted as he thought about it. “Just take them off. Stop playing the cultural-reasons card. If it’s fine for the other Avixans, it should be fine for you. Unless you think you’re better than them, which you aren’t. Now, Chen’s trying to help you.”

  “I suggest you don’t comment about things you don’t understand. And they don’t come off,” she said once more, meeting his gaze directly.

  He’d finally done it. He’s pissed her off.

  Good.

  She deserved it.

  “Okay, guys, we all need to calm down. But I have to stress once more, I need to get these bands off,” Chen tried in a calm tone.

  “Doctor, they can’t come off. They are physically locked on. You would have to amputate my arms.”

  Chen looked shocked. “But… I… the other Avixans—”

  “I’m nothing like the other Avixans. Check my file. I can?
??t take my locks off when I feel like it.” She looked directly at Hunter.

  “I… I’ll check your file.” Chen took a step back, brought up his wrist device and typed something into it. A second later he sucked a deep breath through his teeth. “I am very sorry,” he nodded low, “I didn’t realize. I should not have insisted. If we’ve offended you culturally, we apologize.” Chen made brief eye contact with Hunter.

  Hunter ignored it.

  So what if Ava couldn’t remove her armbands. It didn’t mean anything.

  “I guess I can work around this.” Chen nodded. “It might take longer to heal, and you’ll have to come back for a couple of checkups, but it’s doable. I’m sorry again.”

  “It’s okay.” Ava’s expression mellowed, and she nodded politely. “You didn’t know. Avixan society can be… confusing to those from the outside.”

  “Sure can, but that’s no excuse for being insensitive.” Chen grabbed a scanner up and waved it over her arm.

  Hunter stood there for a single second, then pushed back hard on his heel.

  “Lieutenant, wait up. I need to speak to you – clarify what happened. Can you please wait in my office for me?” Chen didn’t even look up.

  The only thing Chen wanted to clarify was why Hunter was being such a jerk.

  Chen had seniority in all medical matters, so Hunter had no choice but to obey.

  A few minutes later, Chen walked in, waited for the door to close, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall. “What the hell was that?”

  “Don’t even start. She deserved it.”

  Chen didn’t answer. He just stared at Hunter. Then slowly, forcefully, Chen shook his head. “That’s a pretty ugly thing to say. And you’re not an ugly guy. So what the hell is going on?”

  Hunter’s stomach clenched. “It’s complicated.”

  “Well, let me simplify it for you. You don’t treat people like that, Hunter, especially crew, especially 24 hours after saving your life. I saw you yesterday, Hunter, you came barreling into the med bay to check she was alright. Now you’re treating her like a monster. What the hell happened? What did she do? What did she possibly say to deserve this?”

  In truth? Nothing. It’s who she was.

  Chen uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “If you can’t answer, I’m guessing your excuse isn’t good enough.”

  Hunter darted his gaze up. “Meva hates her.”

  Chen looked thoroughly and completely unimpressed. “And that accounts for what, exactly? Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me you’re going to blindly pick up someone else’s animosity? Children do that, Hunter, not adults, and certainly not Coalition personnel.”

  “It’s complicated,” he repeated through bared teeth.

  “Sure is. You’re basing your entire judgment on hearsay from a third party. I call that pretty goddamn complicated. Why don’t you just try the direct approach? Why don’t you ask Ava herself? Maybe Meva has a good reason to dislike Ava, maybe she doesn’t – you’re only going to find out if you ask. And trust me, you want to ask. Blind loyalty is nothing more than ignorance. You’re better than that. You’re better than this.”

  “You have no idea. Ava… she’s from a section of society that… controls the rest. Meva and the other Avixans are below her. They—”

  “Are you serious? That’s your argument? My father used to be a space pirate. He personally murdered hundreds of people. Now I’m a doctor in the Coalition. Why? Because the day you walk into the Academy is the day you fight for a different cause. So what if Ava comes from the ruling class, she joined the Academy. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Lieutenant, but she can’t rule over anyone here. She can’t even try. Meva’s a lieutenant, Shera a lieutenant commander. What exactly do they have to fear from an ensign? They’re the ones in control. Not her. And you, you should technically be in control too. But right now, you’re being blind. So wake up.”

  Hunter jerked his mouth open, but there was no way he could defend himself.

  Chen was exposing a fatal flaw to the rage that had filled Hunter since Meva had collapsed into his arms yesterday.

  Ava wasn’t in control, was she?

  She was weak. Shera and Meva were full warriors. They were also Ava’s superiors….

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the kid sitting out there,” Chen pointed through the glass walls at Ava’s bed, “Is nice. Decent. She just saved her friend. Yesterday, she saved you. And today, you rewarded her with absolutely zero loyalty. I don’t know what it takes to buy loyalty in your books, Hunter, but in mine that’s enough. Now, I suggest you base your treatment of her based on her treatment of you.”

  “It’s… it’s not that easy….”

  “Yeah, it is. We have no idea what goes on behind the closed doors of Avixan society. None. We don’t get to condemn someone based on rumor. If it wouldn’t stand up in court, it shouldn’t stand in your heart either. Maybe in Ava’s past she was involved in whatever social inequity Meva’s suggested. Maybe she fled to the Academy to get away from it. We don’t know. But we do know one thing – she hasn’t abused any Avixans since coming onboard. Her Academy file is squeaky clean.”

  “Meva said—”

  “Wasn’t Ava Meva’s junior at the Academy? If Meva had such a problem with Ava, why didn’t she do anything about it then? She would have seen her around on campus.”

  Chen’s question floored Hunter.

  “The bottom line is we don’t know anything. That means we do not have the evidence to condemn anybody. Innocent until proven guilty, Hunter.”

  That was Harvey’s favorite saying too.

  It cut right to Hunter’s bone.

  “Maybe Ava’s just as bad as Meva’s suggesting, but for the love of god, find out – don’t just assume. You’re better than that.” Chen took a step back and marched for the doors.

  Hunter stood there, unable to move.

  Slowly, eventually, he let his gaze draw across the room and out the glass wall to his side.

  Ava was at Nema’s side, her face pressed with friendly concern.

  Instantly he remembered the look of stone-cold determination that had flared in her eyes before she’d shoved her arm through the airlock door.

  Eventually, he pulled himself away from the view and left the med bay.

  Though he’d started the day with his mind caught in a mess, now his confusion was an intractable tangle that hung over his awareness like a thick veil.

  He had no idea who to believe.

  He only knew one thing for sure: he deserved to feel the guilt that currently goaded his gut like a raging bull.