Nova Cassidy's Chronicles: Judges Pt 5
24 Mar 2016Nova Cassidy
You can spend all day exhausted, but not be able to rest no matter how much you want to.And then, when finally have the chance to go to bed, you can't sleep. Too much to think about, you see. And I had a lot on my mind.
That’s how it was after booting Matt out of the Bluebird so that I could finally, finally get some sleep. Seeing him for the first time in a year, processing the reason that he had been sneaking around in my ship, reconciling (kind of) over his deception, coming up with a plan to get the Inquisition off my ass...
It was all too exhausting for me to remain awake. And it was too much to think about for me to go to sleep. So I laid in my bunk, covers up to my neck, staring like a zombie at the bulkhead wall at the events of the day. I hadn’t exactly agreed to Matt’s plan, but I hadn’t opposed it, either. I was in no shape to make any major decisions, and I knew it. So I did the only thing I could do: kick him out of my ship so that I could agonize in peace. I made sure that the boarding ramp was definitely closed and locked up tight, this time.
Matt’s idea made sense- in the most detached, psychopathic way possible. It was my best shot at getting the Inquisition to move on, and I needed a partner to pull it off. The logical side of me was urging me to accept his idea, get a good night’s sleep, and fly out first thing in the morning. The more emotional side of me wanted to tell Matt to piss off and handle things without his help. I’d taken care of myself for years- I didn’t need rescuing. Not from Gideon. Not from the Inquisition. And I especially didn’t need some White Knight ex-partner to bust into my life to play the hero. I needed time and distance. I also needed a plan, but the only one around was Matt's. God damnit.
In the end, the two sides reached a compromise: go the hell to bed without making a decision either way. I needed a strong cup of coffee and a good night’s sleep, and then I could face both Matt and the decision in the morning with a clear head. A clear head and a good night's sleep and were both things I had gone without for over a week now. I definitely needed that.
And a drink. I need a goddamn drink after a day like this.
<M.Lehman: Morning darling. Bay 3. I’ve got coffee waiting.>
As far as wakeup messages go, I guess that wasn’t too bad.
I woke up in the same position I fell asleep in. Slowly sitting up, I stretched and yawned, feeling stiff from not moving all night.
Guess I needed this, didn’t I?
<BVits: still in bed will be there whenever>
After sending the half-assed message, my head fell back down into the pillow.
Just one more hour. That won’t hurt, right?
Forcing myself to get out of bed instead of telling Matt to piss off, I stumbled to the shower and started the hot water. I stripped off my clothes, stepped in, and leaned against the shower wall, eyes closed and still sleepy.
Matt better have some good coffee waiting for me in his ship, or I’m turning around and going back to bed.
I slipped on outpost casual clothing- jeans, an old tank top, and my black leather jacket. The gun, too, concealed in my sleeve where it belonged. I finished getting ready and dressed, brushing my hair for like the first time in a week and generally trying my best not to look like a complete garbage. The shower definitely helped me to wake up. Making sure to lock up the Bluebird, I took a shuttle ride across the station, passing the larger bays and lounges until-
There it is. Bay three. Let’s do this. Seems a little odd that his Vulture would need a medium pad, but whatever.
I opened the door to the cavernous room and-
There was a sleek, black-on-black Fer-de-Lance parked where I had expected an angular Vulture. Quickly checking the flaking wall paint, I confirmed that I was in the right place. Sure enough, it was bay three. Shaking my head, I proceeded towards the lowered entry ramp.
...Been moving up in the ‘verse, Matt?
Not really knowing what else to do, I awkwardly knocked on the closed door at the top of the ramp. Almost on cue, it slid open, revealing my smiling ex-partner. He was fully dressed, fully awake- and his morning cheerfulness made me want to deck him.
"Welcome aboard the Inevitable Betrayal, darlin'."
The name didn't exactly inspire trust. I found myself glad I brought my gun, but for now just rolled my eyes.
His hand extended, and in it was a hot cup of coffee with cream and sugar. I wordlessly accepted it and took a sip.
Hazelnut. Maybe I won’t deck him just yet, after all.
"Thinking of old times when you named her, partner?”
He smiled, half in pain at my jab and half from recollecting a memory. "Actually, it's from an old- well, it wasn't anything with us. Let's just keep it at that."
He stepped aside and gestured for me to enter. I gingerly stepped inside, taking in the interior of the ship. Matt hadn’t just bought a new ship- he had a goddamn luxury yacht with guns attached. I’d heard of the Saud-Kruger variant of the Fer-de-Lance, but I didn’t ever think I would be in one. I for damn sure didn’t think that Matt had been the type to fly one. Still- I could see the appeal- the corridors were appointed with cream leather with black moulding, the interior had been sculpted to give the impression one room flowing into another, and the entire thing had soft blue mood lighting in addition to the regular deck lights. I tried to keep a businesslike expression, but I couldn’t help seeing what I was seeing.
It just screamed 'rich, smug asshole'. Matt must have caught me staring, because he opened the door to his pilot’s cabin and smiled.
“Not bad, huh?” He asked.
I walked in as nonchalantly as I could, settling down on the cream couch. “It’s okay, I guess. Not sure about the color. And isn’t it a little foofoo anyway? I thought you were supposed to be some big, tough reaper.”
Matt chuckled to himself, pouring a cup of coffee with his back turned. “Well, it’s fancier than the Hand of Blue- but damn if the foofoo doesn’t grow on you.”
I held up my coffee. “Coffee’s good, though.”
He returned the salute. “And that’s the important thing, ain’t it?”
We shared a look and a moment, and I found myself slipping back into the old familiarity that Matt and I had once shared. He had been one of the only partners I had ever trusted, felt safe around, and allowed myself to relax with. I had even opened up in ways I hadn’t expected, sleeping next to him and feeling at ease. Hell, I had even kissed him at the end.
Matt cleared his throat and looked down into his coffee, leaning against the cabin bulkhead. “So, you given any thought to my idea?”
I frowned. “Yeah. More than you know. It’s a solid proposal, my best- maybe my only shot at leaving all this behind, but-”
Seeing my indecisiveness, Matt nodded. “-but that still doesn’t make it an easy choice, does it?”
I didn’t answer immediately, just shaking my head and taking a long sip of coffee to stall. Again, Matt saw what I was doing and walked over, sitting next to me on the couch. I half-expected him to put his arm around me, but he didn’t. Instead, he just glanced my direction and looked in the same direction as I had been staring.
“I know it ain’t sittin’ right with you, being asked to do what you are. Especially given what she means to you. And how the happiest part of last time we were together was when I told you that she was gettin’ fixed up.”
There wasn’t much for me to do except nod. Matt glanced at me and continued.
“You won’t have to do anything. I’ll handle the unpleasant part. All you need to do is pack your things, engage the remote access, and stand being around me long enough to deliver you to wherever you’re going. After that, I report a successful mission and you’re off the Inquisition’s shit list. No more Sharwit. Just Nova.”
I pursed my lips. As much as I hated to admit it, Matt had been right. Back when we were onboard the dying Anaconda together, I had been puzzled at how much tenderness and respect Matt had shown the blasted vessel. He had understood that your ship was your only friend out in the black, whereas I had thought of the Bluebird as only my ship. It was a tool, a vehicle. By the end of the job together, I had come around to his way of thinking- the feeling of flying away in the newly repaired Bluebird one of the high points in my career as a pilot.
Now, I needed to reel back the sentiment a bit and channel some old-school Nova. She would have missed her ship, and she would have cursed the circumstances that forced such a choice upon her-
But she would have done it.
Taking a deep breath, I finished my coffee and gathered my resolve. Hardening my gaze, I turned to my side and looked Matt in the eye.
“Let’s do it.”
He nodded grimly, knowing that the decision had been a difficult one. “I’m proud of you, darlin’. I know it ain’t easy.”
I stood up, setting down the mug and placing my hands on my hips. “There’s just one favor I need to ask.”
Matt relaxed into the couch, looking up into my eyes, a concerned look on his face. “And what’s that?”
I took a deep breath and looked down at him. “When it’s time to destroy the Bluebird, I want it to be my finger on the trigger.”