6

New Neptune 2701

Eden has been fortunate to have never suffered a truly grievous injury in her life. Growing up on a starship, injuries are fairly common. Even a high-class vessel like the NOVA occasionally has outages and maintenance is a near-constant on a ship so large. Rhydian and Eden had, on more than one occasion, been burned by sparks or cut by metals having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even during her schooling on Terra, the only injury Eden had ever known was from accidents involving her experiments. But even the most careful studies with all lab protocols in place could account for the kind of unpredictable physics, weaponry, and robotics she liked to tinker with. Any time she had been injured as a child, and later when she was on the same Academy base, all of Eden's injuries had been tended to by Dr. Carl. In fact, Dr. Carl and Nurse Esmeralda oversaw the care of Eden's entire family.

Eden's body, up until this moment, had been completely clear of scars. Dr. Carl is a very good physician and Eden has a healthy, robust immune system. Her very minor injuries had never been serious enough to warrant immediate medical care and had certainly never been life-threatening.

She doesn't think the wound from the laser gun is life-threatening. It hurt quite a bit before Eden closed down as much of her pain perception as she could, and right now it isn't even bleeding that much. The wound itself is clear. It didn't puncture any organs and part of the wound has even been cauterized from the sheer heat of the laser passing through skin and tissue. She is reasonably certain that she could patch herself up adequately, but Orion insists.

He is rather intense about the situation. Shaken, perhaps. He maintains his position around her, chest curved against her back with his hand pressing down against the angry pulse of purple blood beneath their hands, even as he keys codes into the device on his arm. By her count, they materialize in three different places before he seems satisfied.

Eden supposes he skipped the usual habit of the paradox pocket because of her wound. She wonders if that will make them easier or harder to track, and infers this must surely be the reason he did not settle at the first jump.

The world they land in is quite unlike any Eden has ever seen before. The biggest feature of this planet is the water, which is all Eden can see for miles and miles around them - there is an endless stretch of deep navy water glittering beneath a helix sunset, three moons shining placid light over the sky in half-crescent glory. The only breaks between the water are narrow planks of shiny grey concrete, not six feet wide and several feet long, connecting in a sort of grid. Occasionally, from what Eden can see, the grid meets in the middle with larger squares that have short pillars on them. There are no people that she can see, although clearly people had been here once.

"Is this planet inhabited?"

Orion ignores her question. She turns her head just enough to see him scanning their surroundings, his expression fierce and jaw taut. Eden blinks at him. He feels very warm against her back.

Seemingly satisfied by whatever his survey concludes, Orion's iridescent eyes dart down to catch her gaze. "We need to find a medic droid."

Eden's brows lift minutely. Would there be such a thing on a planet like this? Her eyes trace the concrete grid, the bigger squares, the unbroken water of the planet's surface for as far as she can see, and she wonders if, perhaps, there is life here that is not visible. Before she can ask, Orion is already moving, scooping her easily into his hold, a high carry against his chest that seems effortless. Eden's muscles tense and she swallows down her surprise. She does not think anyone has carried her like this since she was very young. She feels, suddenly, small in a way that is utterly foreign. Normally, Eden can overlook the fact that her physical form is slight - but now the observation is prevalent and cannot be ignored. And Orion is, while lean, quite tall and broad compared to her. Eden's hand tightens over her wound, her pulse abnormally high, but she doesn't say anything. She isn't sure what to say.

Without a lick of hesitation, Orion traverses one of the narrow concrete bridges until he reaches a larger square on the grid. Closer, it's easy to see that the short pillars are actually entries to steep stairs that disappear within the surface of the water. Orion hustles down these stairs, a short flight that delivers them into a squat corridor made of thick, clear glass-like material showing an exquisite view of the depth of the sea around them. There is a sliding door that seems to be the entry to several clear, round pods held in a garage of sorts.

A simple bot stands by this door, its round head at odds with a willowy, square body. When the droid detects their presence, it musters out a greeting, two calm turquoise circles alight on its head unit. "Welcome to New Neptune, the Atlantis of the future. We are pleased to make your acquaintance. How may we help you today?"

Eden studies the bot, taken by its speech and clear advancements. It's a simple bot, not unlike the kind that is being developed on Terra, and she can recognize some of the craftsmanship in its frame. She guesses, based on the bot itself, that they are in a time not too far from her own - but she has never heard of a planet called New Neptune. Perhaps it is not part of the Alliance.

Orion's tone is clipped as he answers the bot. "Take us to a medical facility."

"Of course," the bot agrees with its stiff, yet pleasant robotic voice. "We on New Neptune enjoy the finest of medical care and treatment. We will be happy to direct you to the nearest hospital. Please enter the Neptune Pod. We will set your coordinates."

The doors slide open and a pod scoots forward, opening at the side to allow entry. The inside of the pod is also simple yet luxurious, with basic emergency controls and comfortable bench seats enough for at least eight people. Orion places her down very gently on this bench and then seats himself.

The pod doors slide closed, followed by the doors of the entry corridor. Still, the welcome bot's voice is loud enough to be heard. "Please enjoy your stay on New Neptune."

The pod moves forward on a sliding conveyor and ahead, a clear entry door parts, a rush of water spilling into the garage. Eden stares in mild fascination, quite removed from the pain of her injury. Once the pod is in the open ocean, they are afforded a stunning view of the deep water, which is lit brightly with bobbing white lights that illuminate the fauna and corals and schools of strange alien fish swimming through the sea. The pod moves very quickly, but with a clear destination in mind. Eden finds it all very novel, even though she has never been fond of the ocean.

"New Neptune is a pleasure planet," Orion says abruptly. He's looking at the device on his wrist. His hands are still stained with her blood. "Or it will be. We are very early in its development. It will never be formally part of the Alliance, but it is run by powerful families connected to the Alliance and the old Federation, just as most pleasure planets are."

Eden reads between the lines. They can be as safe here as they can on any other planet, affiliated with the Alliance or not. That the planet is still in development must give them better odds.

Yet Eden also realizes that Orion did not choose these coordinates. She does not think he will ever set a purposeful destination - as far as she can see, he places more confidence in his device's ability to randomly transport them and remain undetected than in his own ability to navigate in unpredictable patterns. Given the expanse of the universe and time, she thinks he may be right.

But Eden has now been close to two singularities and wonders if this planet will be a third. Perhaps not. Orion seems familiar with it, so it must still be around during his time...

Eden's gaze chases after fish that look vaguely Terran. "Is this planet organic?"

"No. Manufactured, but not terraformed."

Eden nods. This makes sense. She isn't sure that terraforming a planet of water would be possible, at least at this scale. Assuming the Alliance would still be using her technology, of course. Knowing the quality of her work, she suspects that they used whatever they could access from her lab after her assassination - or now, her abduction.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hn."

Orion's jaw clenches. "You shouldn't have gotten hurt."

She turns her head to study the sharpness of his profile. "You're upset," she observes.

"I'm not," he says, clearly lying.

How strange of him, she muses. Her heart is equally strange, though, fluttering between her ribs for a moment. She attributes it to her injury.

The underwater hospital is quite a sight. Unlike some of the other dwellings they have passed, most of which are built with clear material that allows an unencumbered view of the ocean world, the hospital is made with the same sturdy concrete as the grids above sea level. It's also much larger and more well-lit. The pod floats toward the same type of garage as the welcome corridor, although this one is much larger and drains water very quickly - and once the water is drained, two red and white emergency medic droids roll out into the garage with a hovering gurney between them.

"I can walk," Eden says as Orion deposits her onto the gurney.

He ignores her, following after the droids as they hurry into the hospital and find a triage room. The hospital is as strangely empty as the rest of the planet seems to be. So far, there have only been bots and droids, which is what Orion seems to prefer. The medic droids beep at her urgently until she lays down on the gurney, and then without any warning, one begins slicing away at her clothes to treat her wound.

Eden happens to be looking at Orion's anxious scanning of their surroundings as this happens. When he catches a glimpse of her naked stomach, his eyes widen and he flushes, turning around quickly.

She raises a brow at his back and then stifles a hiss through her teeth as the droids begin working. The droids beep at each other while they work, one applying a numbing spray to her side while the other rolls away and returns with a device that seems to mend human tissues. It is, overall, a more pleasant experience than even Dr. Carl was ever able to provide.

Eden is so taken by watching the medic droids perform such precise care that she hardly notices when Orion tenses from where he guards at the door. She does, however, catch the movement of his hand in her peripheral vision as he reaches for the holster strapped to his thigh. And then her ears catch the frantic click of heels on slick flooring and Eden's senses all sharpen.

They have been found.

"Oh! Goodness!" cries out a female voice, clearly alarmed. A female with supple teal skin and large, round eyes stops in front of the triage room. Her black hair is fixed in dozens of tiny, silky braids and she is dressed in a fine pantsuit stitched with deep blue fabric. Her shoes are bright gold, as is her jewelry and the fine crystal between her arched brows. She is very beautiful and very clearly a civilian who is shocked to see anyone in the hospital.

Orion's hand slowly slips away from his holster, unnoticed by anyone except Eden. He remains tense, however, and moves to subtly block the doorway.

"Oh, the alerts were right!" the female says with equal parts shock and dismay. "I thought the alert system was malfunctioning and I would find the droids treating a pillow again, but here you are! Goodness!"

It's clear that both Eden and Orion are unprepared for contact with anyone not a robot. Fortunately, their silence goes unnoticed because the female continues, now with some confusion.

"How did you ever get here? We didn't know anyone entered the planet - none of our landing systems made any indications -"

"Our craft had an issue. We were forced to abandon ship and use an escape pod. Unfortunately, my...companion was injured when the pod landed…" Orion lies baldly.

The female nods. "Ah, of course, our sensors wouldn't pick up anything so small...Oh, but that's so awful," she says with a worried look at Eden, her immediate trust in Orion's flimsy story utterly baffling but nonetheless welcome. "Are you quite alright?"

"Your medic droids are adequate," Eden answers.

The female offers a commiserate smile. "As they have been programmed to be, but my, what a way to find out! I am glad to know they helped you! And now it must be my turn," she says with a wider smile. "As you have crash-landed here, it's only right that you be given accommodations until you can secure another craft!"

"That's unnecessary," Orion says firmly.

The female alien waves him off. "Oh, it's no trouble. I insist! You're already here, so you may as well enjoy New Neptune during our beta test!".

Even though she can't see his face, Eden can sense the way Orion tries to find a way to refuse the offer. She decides to spare him the trouble.

"We accept," she says simply.

And when Orion sends her a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder, a look completely missed by their friendly, obvious host, all Eden dies is return his stare tepidly.

After all, accepting the offer verbally does not mean accepting the offer in practice. They can easily sneak off later. If Eden hadn't said anything, she suspects Orion might have reached for his weapon again to simplify the situation on his own terms.

Their eye contact breaks off when Orion sighs. "Fine," he grumbles. "Thank you."

The female grins at them both. "Welcome to New Neptune!"

Orion, as a rule, hates pleasure planets. He finds them pointless and cumbersome and false - every inch of a pleasure planet is curated to amaze the senses, but for him and his Xianian blood, it all comes off as rather fake. Pleasure planets are a facade of empty energy. Usually, pleasure planets are so inundated with activity that they feel more like an angry eclectic charge against his senses. But that being said, Orion has used pleasure planets for the obvious cover that they are. Before, on the occasion when he was able to smuggle out people he managed to rescue under the nose of the Alliance, Orion and his team had used the sheer population density of pleasure planets to hide people in plain sight. So, pleasure planets can be useful, but he doesn't have to like them.

New Neptune this early in its inception is different, though. The emptiness is haunting. Even their hostess, Nahn Ryynaa, is empty, even for all of her performative kindness and effusive good cheer. She prattles on and on about New Neptune's development while the medic droids finish working on Eden.

For her part, Eden lays as quiet as ever while the droids work, seemingly unbothered by the silvery scar left on the skin just above her pale hip. Flakes of purple blood that have dried on her clothing continue to draw his eye, evidence of his failure. Her energy hasn't dipped or spiked, however, not even a flicker when the injury happened. She treats it as nothing more than a scratch. As the medic droids chirp and move away, Eden sits up with ease and fixes her clothing.

Orion's jaw clenches, his fist soon following. He's angry - at himself and at her. It doesn't make any rational sense, but then, it doesn't need to. He firmly ignores the wellspring of her energy, bubbling so abundantly it practically asks to be siphoned. He tramps down that urge harshly.

Nahn Ryynaa clucks her tongue at Eden. "You need new clothes! I'll have some sent to you right away once you've settled into your rooms."

Eden quietly thanks her and then they both follow Nahn Ryynaa out of the medical facility and into another underwater pod. This one is clearly more advanced, however, since it requires their host to drive it. As the pod speeds off, Nahn Ryynaa is quick to offer them more information about New Neptune unprompted.

"We open in about two months, you know. But while most of our rooms are ready for this beta test, we are already full to capacity with sweepstake winners. I'm afraid that means you will need to find rooms on Poseidon, our capital ship. It's where most of the crew for the planet reside, but I know there are a few empty rooms for new hires. You can take two of those while you recover," she says.

"One," Orion cuts in.

Nahn Ryynaa's eyes widen as she makes a nose of realization, looking between Eden and Orion and drawing an incorrect conclusion. "Ohh. Yes, of course. If one room is preferable, then we will find a larger suite!"

If Eden understands the implication, then she doesn't show any knowledge of it. Orion refuses to confront why that might bother him.

The Poseidon is an above-water ship, gargantuan in size and much too large to ever submerge in the seas of this planet. In fact, it hovers only a few feet above the water, never quite touching the walking bridges crisscrossing the surface of the water planet. Inside, the ship is unlike any he's ever seen. Instead of clean, fastidious lines, everything about the Poseidon is dripping in wealth and frivolous decoration - every control switch, lighting hub, and door is outlined with golden gilt, the material of the ship mimicking old Terra marble in rich shades of blue. Completely ostentatious. He loathes it entirely, but once again, Eden doesn't so much as blink when they are lead to quarters that are just as grandiose.

The doors slide open and Orion, at Eden's back, urges her forward with a subtle nudge. He intends to scan the room for threats from right behind her, never more than a few inches apart - never far enough or in a position that would not allow him to protect her back again. But Eden doesn't step forward at his prodding. Instead, she turns her head to meet Nahn Ryynaa's eyes over his shoulder.

"You are having trouble with your engine core," she says, and Orion doesn't even question how she managed to deduce that. He narrows his eyes at the gentle slope of her profile, contemplating the pros and cons of simply jumping them out of this wealthy hell-hole right now, subtly be damned.

Nahn Ryynaa has a tinkling laugh. "Oh! Well, we are! Our engineers are working on it, though! The Poseidon is meant to travel in the stratosphere, of course, to be able to monitor the planet better and remain unobtrusive. But our stabilizer is having a spot of trouble…"

Eden hums.

Nahn Ryynaa's eyes light up. "Are you, by any chance, an engineer? Oh, but you're still recovering - I couldn't possibly invite you to look at our engine room!"

Eden blinks placidly. "I would not mind," she says.

Orion reigns in his sigh, just barely.

Nahn Ryynaa's face lights up. "Oh, excellent! Well, then, I'll just give you a few moments to be settled. Refresh yourself in your suite and I'll send one of our kitchen droids with a meal. Later, I'll take you down to the engine room myself, while your husband occupies himself elsewhere -"

"Where she goes, I go," Orion cuts in flatly. He ignores the husband assumption. It might be useful to let that misconception fly while they're here.

Nahn Ryynaa titers. "Newlyweds, hmm? Fair enough. I'll retrieve you lovers in a bit," she tells Eden, who dips her head gracefully and, without a word, trails sedately into the room they have been given.

Orion nods curtly and follows, the door sliding shut behind him automatically. Inside, the quarters are just as gaudy as the rest of the ship. Already, Eden is sitting on the bed, shifting into a reclining position with her eyes half-mast. Orion does a perfunctory check of the room, then stands over her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Resting."

Orion's jaw ticks. "I meant, about the engine? It's not our problem."

"There are likely hundreds of civilians on this planet who would be killed should the Poseidon crash on the surface. Even a soft crash would upset the scaffolding supporting the underwater rooms and attractions, which could set of a chain of collapsing shelters that would leave occupants no time to seek safety in a pod," Eden answers, her eyes closed, hands folded over her stomach. Orion watches her plush lips move as she speaks. "If taking a look at the stabilizer on this ship will save lives, then I do not see the harm. We can leave afterward."

Briefly, Orion wonders if he should waste his breath arguing. But he knows well enough now that arguing would be futile. Even if he disagreed, Eden would wait until his guard was down and then go do what she wanted to do anyway. His other option would be jumping them off this ship and to another time right now, but that would solve an immediate problem and create a new one - because it would be suspicious if they were to just disappear without a trace, even if Nahn Ryynaa isn't the suspecting sort. That sort of thing might make an incident of historical value that could get them noticed, and that could draw Alliance attention their way if they landed anywhere near this time frame again, let alone attention in the servers that Matthis works with.

No, they would stay for a while, maybe a day or so. Recuperate, prepare for the next jump, hopefully to a place that wasn't associated with a disaster. Although, he does comfort himself with the scant knowledge that New Neptune had never been associated with tragedy throughout its history. For now, this may be the safest place for them, at least in terms of imminent threat. He doubts the Alliance would ever think to track them to a pleasure planet, either.

"Fine," he says, even knowing that Eden wasn't looking or waiting for permission. In fact, he thinks she must already be asleep, her energy swinging to a calming low that lulls him into a sense of peace.

It would be so easy now, to reach out and sip from her energy - but he can't. He won't. He's gone longer without topping up and he should be able to absorb some ambient energy on this planet, as he has been doing for as long as he can remember.

It's just - it would be so much easier to take from her - and he's never been in such close proximity to such a wellspring. He's never been tempted. And he shouldn't be tempted in the first place. From what he knows of his people, from what his parents once told him, Xianians only ever develop a craving when -

But, no. He can't. It's impossible.

Orion turns away to check the rest of the room then settles down on the bed, which is large enough that they do not touch when they lay side by side. He forces himself to fall into a state of half-sleep, still aware of their surroundings but dissociated enough to take a mental break.

He stays that way until the door chimes, sliding open to allow the entry of a short, squarish droid with two plates of steaming food. Real food, of course, made with herbs and conventional cooking methods rather than food that started out as some kind of nutrition tablet. There's even fresh fruit and water in glasses. The droid sets their meal out on the table in the corner of the room, chirps cheerfully, and then departs.

Orion, sitting up on the bed now, feels his stomach rumble at the savory scent of cooked meat and sauced vegetables. He glances down at Eden, who has not moved since she fell asleep, and nudges her awake.

When her soft grey eyes meet his, utterly void of any visible emotion, Orion gamely ignores the way his chest tightens.

The engine room on The Poseidon is not terribly more advanced than the technology Eden has built in her own time, so she estimates that they are only a hundred years or so in the future relative to her own present. She is forced to estimate because Orion will not allow her to look at the device he has strapped to his arm. Eden, surveying at the sleek maze of the engine room and the focal point of the engine in the center, is confident her estimation is correct.

Nahn Ryynaa wrinkles her pert nose at the noise of the humming engine. "I've been told it should not sound like that," she says and Eden nods.

Indeed, there is a faint high-pitched whir punctuated by a muffled groan of metal beneath the loud humming that doesn't sound ideal for an engine of this size. Eden's brows tick up infinitesimally. For a new ship, the engine should be running smoothly - and quietly. She supposes a manufacturing error is to blame.

"Where's the crew?" Orion asks brusquely.

Nahn Rynnaa titters. "Oh, here and there. We don't have many engineers on New Neptune. The main engineer, Lyle, is probably with the engine right now while the rest of the crew is seeing to some of the pods that needed maintenance…"

Eden wanders through the half-walls of panels and low-stretching pipes, peering closely at the layout of the power source. She would have created a much more efficient design, but she supposes this engine room is adequate.

Orion trails along behind her as she moseys toward the core reactor engine, her arms crossed behind her back not unlike her father's preferred stance. She tilts her head as she circles the engine, each of her steps echoed by another. Her sharp eyes catch on details and she quickly sorts through her vast bank of engineering knowledge to determine the likely cause of the malfunction. She finds the solution quite simple, actually. So simple that she doubts the experience of the mechanics and engineers hired for this planet.

Well. It isn't as though Eden won't fix it. Incompetent staff or not, when Eden is done, the Poseidon will run flawlessly for the next decade. The estimates the fix won't take her longer than an hour, maybe less.

Spinning around on her heel, she looks at Nahn Rynnaa and says, "I will need a single copper coil, two yards of insulated titanium, and one of the pods your mechanics use to service the exterior of this craft."

Nahn Rynnaa gets over her shock rather quickly, bobbing her head and assuring Eden that the requested supplies will be moved to the lower decks immediately. Bafflingly, the female even offers a vague curtsy before sweeping away, color high on her cheeks.

Eden blinks after her, glancing at Orion. He grunts something intelligible, and then says, "Hurry up. We shouldn't be here too much longer."

This is, of course, not at all what happens.

Perhaps it's predictable that things might go wrong. It seems that things will always take a turn for the worse now that Eden is out of step with her own timeline. A natural law of the universe keeping the score even, perhaps. All the same, there is never much that can be done for mishaps.

Eden spends a good forty minutes correcting the installation error connecting the core reactor to the hovering technology on the outside of the Poseidon. Locating the mismatched tubing, rewiring the muffler, and quietly enhancing the emissions for the ship is the work a young graduate could complete. Orion spends this time at her back, handing her the correct tools only half the time, looking bored of it all. Eden hardly even notices, riveted on the current problem at hand.

She can tell when she has successfully fixed the problem when the whine beneath the hum of the engine vanishes - and when, quite without warning, the full weight of the Poseidon dips low, pressing the pod she and Orion are in into the cold water of New Neptune.

The water floods the open pod immediately, a frigid rush of water that fills the empty space and drags them down, down by the weight of their own clothes. Unprepared, Eden barely manages to fumble for her personal tools before the sudden thrush of water pulls her head beneath the surface of the ocean. The high salt in the water stings her eyes, so she closes them and holds air in her lungs - but the surprise has caused her to make a mistake and she knows that her last intake of air was partially full of water -

Her lungs are heavy.

There is pressure around her waist, then, firm and unyielding. A hook around her back tugs her upward in powerful jolts. Her eyes slit open, managing to place the context of her situation. She is more Giidas than Terran, so her body is quite dense. It can't be easy for Orion to swim both of them to the surface, even if Orion's own alien physiology lends him extra strength.

Her gaze catches on the twinkling winks of his iridescent markings, the bright-spot moles on the smooth skin of his neck and cheek, the only visible parts of his skin that she has ever seen. So caught on these markings, she doesn't realize they have breached the surface of the water until she is sputtering, coughing saltwater out of her lungs loudly and without grace.

Orion helps them to float, his legs kicking unceasingly until he manages to find one of the bridges crisscrossing the planet. He heaves Eden up first, rolling her onto the smooth concrete, and then lifts himself out of the water. Firm, yet gentle pats against her back help her dislodge the rest of the water.

And then Orion's eyes must surely catch on the tools clutched to her hands, because he makes a noise of irritated surprise. "Are your gadgets more important than your life?" he demands. "Can you not swim?"

Eden, still catching her breath, sniffs rather daintily. "Of course I can swim. I am not skilled at it."

Orion mutters a low oath, likely something unsavory that she doesn't care to listen to. Once she has settled her physiology, Eden rocks onto her knees, craning her neck around to look at the Poseidon, which now hovers proudly several dozen feet in the air, continuing to rise steadily. Her fix must have temporarily reset the engine core, which is why the ship dipped so suddenly, but it now seems that everything is in order. Her lips tilt upward, just a bit.

"I should just kill you myself," Orion grouses, shaking water out of his hair. "Troublesome."

Eden does not deign that with a response.

Orion finds his companion mystifying. Who else would have a brush with a drowning death, with the full knowledge that their body was too dense for proper swimming, only to smile at a fucking ship afterward? Orion is certain now more than ever that Eden has a few screws loose in that genius head of hers. Fuck, but Leta really should have been the one stuck with this nightmare of a female. When he gets back, he's going to complain about it, loudly and often.

But for now, he wants them off this planet. Something doesn't feel quite right, each of his Xianian instincts on high alert and not just because he narrowly escaped drowning. No, there is something wrong here.

Eden said that the fix for the engine was actually very simple. Even a student could have fixed it, so why not any of the mechanics? And where are all the engineers, truly? There must be dozens necessary to run a pleasure planet of this size with all of its technological demands, but he hasn't seen a single soul except for Nahn Rynnaa. And that female seems rather - skittish, now.

When he and Eden manage to board the Poseidon again, Nahn Rynnaa greets them with a downright frazzled appearance. Each one of Orion's honed skills from his work as an assassin can see that she is shaken by something, even beyond her shock at finding them soaking wet in one of the ship corridors. Nahn Rynnaa hurries them to their quarters to clean up and then rushes off.

There was fear in her eyes.

Orion's gut clenches. Their near-miss might not have been the accidental reset of an engine that Eden would like to believe. In fact, Orion would bet anything it's the exact opposite. Someone flipped a switch just long enough to push their pod underwater. It's the kind of accidentally-on-purpose accident Alliance assassins are trained to use. He knows this without a doubt.

They need to leave. Now. But they need to do it subtly.

Eden pauses on her way to the bathroom, soaked grey cloak from their last planet clinging to her shoulders, the delicate dip of her spine. She watches him gather their belongings and stow them away, her eyes surely catching on his hardened expression. Eden blinks. And then, without a word, she turns to the door and leaves their quarters.

Good. He'd rather not have to explain. Who knows what ears could be listening.

It doesn't take any time at all to leave the Poseidon via a simple escape pod. Not his first choice of vehicle, but with the ship now firmly in the stratosphere, there aren't many options. He slides into the pod beside Eden and takes manual control, easing away from the massive ship with his head turned just enough to watch for any followers. Eden watches too, grey eyes roving the blue of the water beneath them and the greenish tinge of the sky around them.

"This pod isn't space-worthy," she says.

Orion grunts. He knows that. He doesn't need it to be space-worthy - he wasn't even counting on that. But he does need to make their disappearance look good, and there's nothing more obvious than an empty pod dropping into the ocean to raise even more alarms. There's no need to be obvious about it. His plan right now is to casually stop by one of the attractions Nahn Rynnaa prattled on about earlier and then jump from that location to a different time. It's not ideal, but it would let them escape cleanly.

Except the Alliance assassin sent after them has no intentions of letting their escape be easy. It's Eden who spots him first, a quiet there's a pod following us alerting Orion to their unwanted company. He stretches his senses out, ignoring the wellspring of energy emanating from Eden and pinging off what feels like a Falleen coming swiftly behind them - and not a friendly one.

Orion wisely directs their pod downward, already having an inkling of what his fellow assassin might do. If he had a bit more distance, he would stop the pod mid-air and jump from here. But the assassin is coming for them too quickly and it's never advisable to jump in motion, not if you don't have to. And right now, they don't have to. Orion could still maneuver them to get a bit of clearance -

A high-pitched sound and a beam of reddish light shoots through the pod, first through the exact middle, then on one of the engine wings. Fuck. The pod jerks, the damaged engine sending them careening downward at a fast slope. They're high enough that any impact with the water wouldn't be ideal, though they're both hardy enough in physiology to survive with minimal injuries. Maybe.

Orion lifts his hands from the pod control and turns to Eden, prepared to wrap himself around her - her safety is still his top priority until he is told otherwise - but he instead finds her bracing her back against the seat and kicking her heels against the pod door. Her brow is furrowed minutely after the second kick, and on the third there is a burst of pure energy - telekinesis - that blows the door straight off the pod. Eden looks at him over her shoulder, the salty wind blowing sharply across her face.

Eden's fingers close around the collar of his jacket and without hesitation, she pulls and shoves him out of the pod -

"Fuck!" he shouts, his voice drowned out by the wind as he free falls -

- and he twists around, looking up, searching -

- Eden takes a leap out of the spiraling pod, maybe only a moment after him, the brilliant red fire and smoke behind her partially obscuring the graceful tumble of her fall until she pulls her limbs in close, her expression like flint -

The water comes sooner than he thinks and Orion is hardly prepared. It's like slamming into concrete. Air leaves his lungs in a huge, painful gasp, and his skin beneath his clothes feels raw, bruised. It hurts. The water is cold and for the second time that day, he finds himself fighting the pull of water on his clothes, determined to drag him down, down, down. Orion is a strong swimmer, and even with the shock of pain ricocheting through his system, he swims upward in powerful strokes, breaking through the surface with a great gasp.

He relishes the air for only a moment before his eyes snap around - first for any sign of Eden and then up to where he can see the pod of the assassin passing overhead, already curving around. Eden is nowhere to be seen. He has only moments before the Alliance assassin would be firing again.

It's harder to hit a target underwater.

Orion takes a deep breath and dives down, eyes peeled open. Eden is wearing white. She should be easy enough to find. She was only moments behind him, but the distance - he isn't sure. He can't see her. Fuck. Fuck -

Something snags his ankle and Orion twists, spying spindly ivory fingers and a white sleeve clinging to a slight arm -

From above, several flashes of light sink into the water, more laser fire that barely misses them. Orion's lungs are burning, but he has more air than Eden, who is too heavy for the water and who has eyes that are growing dimmer, her grip around his ankle slackening by the second. There isn't any time. Orion doesn't think about it, not even for a second. He simply acts, curving his body down to get his arms around Eden's slip of a waist and then pressing his mouth against hers, using his tongue to pry her lips open so he can breathe air into her lungs. Some part of his mind registers it working because she goes tense in his arms, but Orion is hardly paying attention, blindly hitting commands onto the jumper strapped to his arm -

A shimmer of white, warped by the water, and in the next moment, they crash down onto a hard, gravely surface. The landing pulls them apart and they each cough up water, Eden more than him. Her lips are red, her skin pale, short black hair plastered to the sides of her face. Every one of Orion's Xianian senses is fucking singing, his very skin on edge from a thrush of foreign energy blooming through his very core.

He didn't mean to - it just - her energy is -

"What the fuck," he says loudly, uncaring of their mysterious surroundings. "You could have killed us!" He slaps the ground on either side of him, rocks pressing into his palms.

Between his bent knees, Eden finally catches her breath. Her eyes - grey, such a soft, placid grey, so utterly calm - catch his as she says, "I calculated the risk."

Orion sputters for a response.

Eden touches the very edge of her bottom lip. "You bit me," she tells him.

Orion inhales sharply.

No. No, he isn't dealing with that right now - it's not important. It can't be important. Not when there's an Alliance assassin surely on their tail. They'll need to do a few more jumps, maybe a dozen to clear their trail, make them harder to track. Orion can't spare a second to think about how soft Eden's lips were or how his own energy reserves feel so full - has he ever felt this full? - or how she doesn't seem shaken at all by any of it -

With a mighty scowl etched across his face, Orion curls his hand around Eden's wrist, inputs commands into the jumper, and gets back to the task at hand.

Other things are going to have to wait.

A/N: Not the liplock you thought about huh? Sorry about the month-long delay - real life and work obligations take up so much of my time these days. Work-life balance is so hard. Thank you for everyone who reached out to check on me! See you next month!

~Rae