Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon by Jake Macklem (ebook audio reader TXT) 📕

fumbled as he watched Ace chew her brownie looking rather bored. Thank the Verse I ain’t got a daughter. “Yes. East.”

“It’s a hike, but not undoable.” Ace took another bite. “But can’t you just reschedule… move the pickup closer?”

Cam shook his head. “No coms. G-link doesn’t work on this pile of slag.” She was looking at him skeptically, so he added, “Between the magnetosphere of the moon and the interference from Ophelia, signals can’t reach the gate.”

“No G-link at all?” Ace looked back toward her crash site.

“None. If I can’t be there on schedule, I got no way to tell them.”

“That’s shanked,” she said. Then she smiled. “But at least I don’t feel so dumb for not getting the dataport on that Warthog to work.”

Cam chuckled as he stacked some twigs and a couple of bigger chunks of ‘wood’ on the charcoal from their fire the night before, leaving a bit of tinder exposed. “I already completed a majority of the plant and insect collecting.” And there wasn’t much of it. Definitely something strange going on here evolution-wise. No way a functioning ecosystem can have this little diversity. Cam wandered off in his own thoughts then realized Ace was still staring at him, waiting for him to finish.

“I can mark any ore sources as we go, so as long as we cover sixteen kilometers a day, we’ll have plenty of time.” I think I sound confident.

“You don’t sound too confident. What do you mean plenty of time?” Ace ate the last of her brownie, chewing slowly to savor the disappearing treat.

“The Po’olu’u is going to drop a pod at the retrieval point, go pick up the one I came in, and swing back around and pick us up in orbit. That happens in eighteen days.” Cam flicked a flashstick and the fire burned bright. He tossed it on the twigs in the firepit.

“Then we’ll leave tomorrow.”

“No. Two more days of rest, that’s what you get. Then we leave. You need strength to go the distance.” Cam looked away. “How was your brownie?”

“I think it might have been the best shanking thing I ever ate. It was so chocolaty.” Ace smiled. “So, what’s that favor?”

“Oh.” Cam blushed. The fire started to dance over the logs. “Do you think you could watch your language some? You curse like a preacher in a whorehouse.”

“I grew up in a whorehouse,” Ace’s eyes twinkled, “but… I’ll see what I can do.”

Cam studied her face. Nope. Can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “I would appreciate it. I do use colorful vernacular myself once in a while. Though I believe overuse diminishes its impact.”

“You like words, huh?” Ace smiled.

“I did marry a literature teacher,” Cam retorted.

“Kids?”

“Two boys, Tomas is twelve, and Calvin just turned ten.” Cam smiled. “I get to see them after this.”

“How long has it been?”

Cam felt an ache in his chest, blinked his eyes a few times, and said, “Two years.”

“And you came looking for whoever flew that Warthog?” Ace shook her head. “It could have been a pirate trap, or they could have been dead, it could…”

“It was you,” he cut her off. “And by all accounts, you seem to be a genuine human being. In addition, while I have been wrong before, I do believe what we have here is the blossoming of a friendship. So, let us not contemplate unpleasantries that will never come to pass, and instead enjoy some music.” Cam pulled a harmonica from his pocket and bounced his eyebrows.

The two shared a moment, the weight of the choices each had made hung between them. A family man billions of light-years from home, risking everything to save a stranger. A stranded soldier left for dead, outliving the ghosts of her past. Understanding settled over them both.

“Knock yourself out, Cowboy.” Ace moved closer to the fire and wrapped her arms around her knees, her eyes lost in the dancing flames.

Cam set his rifle down and sat next to it. He lifted the harmonica and played a simple song. It drifted on the wind. She can’t be but in her early twenties. She’s still just a kid. The firelight reflected in her eyes and she had a half-smile. What she ain’t… is scared.

  12: Ace

The fighting style taught to STARs was a combination of alien and Earth fighting called Ka-te-Zi or Soul of Pain. Designed to incapacitate the target with pain and the inability to move appendages, its goal was to eliminate enemies from combat and, by leaving them alive, make them a continuing liability to their allies. In STAR tactics, only after the battle was over would they make decisions about termination. This way, high-priority targets were not killed in the heat of battle. Ace went through all the motions and stances—the first time in a long time. Her muscles were stiff and she felt weaker than ever before.

Pieces of time on the moon were so scattered, the memories swirled around her head in a foggy blur and she had no idea what was real and what was not. She was unable to establish a timeline. Some of the pieces seemed to contradict other bits. At least now her senses felt reinvigorated. She could smell the tang of the air, individual shades of the colors stood out more vividly—she felt awake for the first time since the crash. The Meals Ready to Eat, or MREs, that Cam had brought sated her hunger and the clean water rehydrated her. She was heavy metal poisoning-free and had not had any hallucinations since she awoke three days ago. Including Mick.

In her delirium, she had managed to let herself heal. She was not sure when she cut the cast wrap off, but it had done its job. Her right side was a little tight and she knew it would