Forged: A Science Fiction Romance Adventure (Star Breed Book 10) by Elin Wyn

Author:Elin Wyn [Wyn, Elin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clockwalk Publishing
Published: 2020-08-06T04:00:00+00:00

Yasmin

Who would have thought that after sleeping in a trench and a cave, my giant would put his foot down about clean sheets?

“If we can’t find clean ones, I’ll just sleep on the cot.” He started rummaging through the supply cabinets. “Or use an emergency blanket.”

“Really?” My brain boggled, just a bit.

Despite the lines of exhaustion carved into his face, his gaze didn’t allow for any argument. “Really. Those things stink.”

Right, then.

“I’ll go pull the inventory logs, see what I can find.”

Not the first thing on my to-do list for the ship, but if it meant he’d get some rest, it was worth it.

New sheets found, and the bed remade surprisingly neatly, Hakon still stalled.

“Repairs will go faster if we’re both working on them,” he insisted.

“It’ll go faster if you stop arguing, go to sleep, and let me get started,” I said, hands on his chest gently pushing him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress.

He sank down and I knelt to unlace his boots.

Halfway through the first one I realized he’d stopped moving entirely.

I glanced up to see his dark eyes fixed on me, heat overruling exhaustion.

“None of that until you’ve slept.” I held a finger up quickly. “A full shift of sleep,” I clarified.

“I don’t need that much downtime,” he grumbled, but stopped fussing.

Pulling the sheets over him, I was tempted to give in for just a moment.

Curl up next to him even if we did nothing more than snuggle.

The voice in my head snorted.

Snuggle?

When did snuggling become so high on my list of things to do?

Reminded of my actual list, I kissed him on the forehead and went back to the engines.

Now that I’d had an initial look at the engine compartment, I could see where I needed to go to get more comfortable and right-side-up access.

After the first hour of work, nothing was any clearer.

The engines were fine. Nothing that would be winning any interstellar races anytime soon, but solid and functional.

I hauled myself out, went back to the cockpit, and flicked the comms system on.

This time I skipped the family channel and went straight to the widest broadcast band possible.

“Emergency assistance requested,” I repeated. “We have crashed on Sat 9 and need assistance.”

Nothing but static.

The atmosphere might be thin, but something was interfering with communications.

Right. On to the next task.

“Systems engage, replay last ten log entries.”

Nothing answered me.

Either there was no AI, it had been damaged, or it only responded to authorized voiceprints.

No matter, I could work around that.

Thankful once again for my friend’s tutorial in getting around basic computer security protocols, I got to work.

Even if I hadn’t found that bit of plexi with the Desyk logo on it, once I was in their systems, it was obvious.

Status reports and log files, all using the corporation’s internal filing structure that I’d become so familiar with back on Station 112.

And all of them date-time-stamped ten years ago.

Hours passed as I read, going back in time, searching for answers.

Naval and Hill had been the crew assigned to the ship.

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