“Suit yourself. We understand that you attempted an ice-grab on Xylera. This after being told you could not do so without paying the tariff.”
I take two long breaths in an attempt to keep my tone even. How dare they tell me I can’t get water when I need it. Someone wants a hole punched into his hull, I know that. My training kicks in without conscious thought once again, keeping my temper from my voice. “I don’t know where you heard that, Captain, because that’s not the case.”
“We saw you accessing the surface.”
Now he’s just pissing me off. I mute the comm and talk loud enough for my crew to hear me. “Fuck you and the warship you rode in on, Overshine.” Then I un-mute, opening the channel to him again, and smile sweetly. “What you saw, actually, was us taking a break from all the junk flying around the atmosphere out here. Is that you letting off all that waste crystal?” He and I both know it’s against regulations to dump waste in this part of the galaxy, but does that stop assholes like him from doing it when no one’s looking? Hell no. Do as I say, not as I do. That’s the OSG way.
“It is against regulations to release waste into the Dark near any planet known to host life forms or atmosphere conducive to such.”
“Yeah. I know,” I deadpan. Now he knows I was accusing him, and I know he’s full of shit. Not that I saw any waste crystals out there, but I know his reputation. He’s not a by-the-book kind of guy.
“We’d like to board your ship and check for contraband,” he says.
I laugh. “And I’d like to board your ship and do the same. But I can’t and neither can you.”
“Regulation 34 dash 1891 says that any ship suspected of carrying contraband items may be boarded by …”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say, cutting him off, “…but you don’t have a valid suspicion, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, we do.”
“Oh yeah? What is it? Because regulations also say you have to notify me of that suspicion and its basis before boarding.”
“You were dock-linked with a known smuggler of contraband items.”
I mute the comm and punch my fist down on the arm of my chair. “Dammit!” He totally has me. The regs are clear in this area. I look around, searching for ideas. “Fucking Beltz.”
“Parts dealers always get jammed for that,” Rollo says. “It’s total bullshit.” He shakes his head in disappointment.
I spark up the comm again. “I’m not sure who you’re referring to.” Now I’m just stalling for time, and Overshine’s going to know it. But I need to figure out my exit strategy. Xylera is not the planet for evasive maneuvers. If I try to run, we’ll die, and I’m not going down that way; not with Overshine as my grim reaper. He’s not worth it, the sniveling, ass-kissing prick I remember from my childhood. He was five years ahead of me in our training squadron, so he didn’t know I existed, but that didn’t stop me from seeing every move he made, every skull he cracked, and every rule he broke to get to the top. He’s twenty-four and already commanding a warship? He has to have at least thirty notches in his belt.
“The DS Mekanika,” he says. His voice rings out like a death knell.
“Never heard of it,” I say right away. Probably too fast. I know better than to let deceit enter my voice, and yet I did it. Fucking Overshine. Dammit again!
“We saw you docked together,” he says, bored and annoyed with my obvious lies.
“No you didn’t.”
“We’re coming aboard, Cass.”
“That’s Captain Cass to you, asshole.” I shut off the comm, simultaneously cutting their reach.
The comm screen goes blank and then the clearpanel is back up. The warship is there, filling up the entire frame.
“Holy shit, that mother is big,” Baebong says. “I’ve never seen one that close up before.”
I flip the all-comm switch and speak carefully. I’m exhausted and worried that it’s showing in my voice. “Prepare to be boarded by crew members of the Warship Baltimore. Protect our assets. Get ready to sing Hallelujah.”
I turn to face Rollo. “Rollo, my friend, now it’s your turn.”
“Rollo’s turn? Rollo’s turn for what?”
“Rollo’s turn to show me he’s worth keeping around and not better off being traded for a pass to the Warship Baltimore.” Not that I’d trade him off as a battle practice dummy, which is what he’d end up serving as, but he doesn’t know that.
Rollo stands, wiping his hands down the legs of his pants. “Rollo is ready. All he needs is a bargaining chip.”
“Go talk to Lucinda. See what she has that won’t give our biogrid away.”
He takes off running from the flightdeck, and I turn my head to look out the clearpanel again.
“Are we going to jail?” Baebong asks. “Because I didn’t sign up for that when I joined this crew. I really didn’t. I won’t do well in jail. I’m too pretty.”
I sigh, long and loudly. “No one’s going to jail.” Not now anyway. Not as long as I have anything to say about it. My mind works feverishly to come up with something I can use to bargain with against the lackey Overshine will surely send to search my ship.
Chapter Thirty-One
THE SOUND OF SEVERAL PAIRS of boots coming down the corridor connecting our airlock to that of the warship is ominous. I’ve heard it in my nightmares. Hell, I used to be one of the crew that made those noises, and the memories will be enough to fuel my darkest dreams for a lifetime. I want to believe my past can stay were it belongs, but here it is again, surfacing to torture me once more. I’m afraid I’ll never get fully away from it no matter how far I fly.
The lead person on the boarding crew is a stranger to me — a girl with short black hair, maybe five centimeters taller than I am, and trained at least to Level Four. I can tell by the way she walks what her skills probably are, and her strength by the muscles showing in her arms and outlined through her pants. She’s proud of herself, ready for action in her sleeveless jacket. Pretty stupid, though, because I could filet that skin of hers with a lot less effort when she’s dressed this way. Vanity: it’s a weakness I especially enjoy exploiting. I turn my attention away from her, effectively letting her know that she means nothing to me. No threat. I could take her down without blinking an eye.
Next in line are two guys. They’re older, more battle scarred than the pretty girl in front. They carry weapons across their chests, making no bones about the fact that this encounter could get real ugly, real quick if I don’t keep their captain happy. Them, I take more seriously.
Next in line is the man himself. I’m a little surprised that Overshine came onboard personally, but maybe I shouldn’t be. Cass isn’t the most common name in the universe. Maybe he came to see for himself if I’m the same Cass who went missing from the OSG’s clutches three years ago. Nothing in his expression gives him away, though. His face could be carved from Ventilian rock with how hard it appears.
Behind him are two more crew members, these guys younger, closer in age to Baebong and myself. I don’t recognize them from my old station, so I assume they were trained elsewhere in the galaxy. They also carry weapons, although not as confidently as their elders. They aren’t worth any more of my attention than they’ve already received, so I look again at Overshine. He’s the one I need to worry about; he holds all the cards in this game. Most of them anyway. I might have one or two up my sleeve. We’ll see.
I stand with my hands hanging at my sides, ready for any sudden moves on their part, but appearing casual as I take in the details of this posse. The girl in front lifts her chin at me, her eyes glittering with a hatred I realize is born from the propaganda she’s been swallowing her entire life. I know what it’s all about because I’ve eaten from the same bowl she has. The difference between the two of us is that I looked down at the meal and saw what it was made up of; she closes her eyes when she spoons it into her stupid maw.
“Captain Cass of the DS Kinsblade, I presume,” she says.
I look over her s
houlder and address the man with the real power. “Captain Overshine. Welcome aboard. Please instruct your crew to leave their weapons in the airlock. You’re welcome to use your side of it if you don’t like the idea of us having access to them.” My insult is clear. You scared, Overshine? Because I think you are. Otherwise you wouldn’t need so much firepower surrounding you.
His eyes flicker, but I’m not sure if it’s with recognition or irritation. Maybe it’s a little of both.
No one moves. Rollo, Jeffers, and Baebong are at my back. Lucinda is busy stinking up her chambers to discourage too much investigation, and the twins are remaining scarce. I told them to be ready for anything when I passed by the engine room earlier on my way here.
“My crew will not use their weapons unless provoked.”
I shrug. “Your crew will not pass onto my ship with those weapons in their possession. My ship, my rules. You have no authority here. I’m allowing you access as a courtesy, nothing more.” I bow slightly to show him I don’t mean to embarrass him in front of his troops. But the rules are what they are; mere suspicion of wrongdoing is not enough to permit weaponry onboard an otherwise friendly ship.
He steps forward, his crew parting to the sides as he advances. He stops just beside the girl. For the first time, I see her gaze lose some of its confidence. Either she doubts herself now or she’s scared of him. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a bit of both going on there. I remember fearing him getting too close to me back in the day. He was prone to fits of temper and lashing out, if I recall correctly.
“The rules have changed, Captain Cass.”
“Not according to me they haven’t.”
“Fortunately for us, you aren’t the one making them.” He looks over his shoulder at his crew. “Board the ship. Check their water levels.”
“Water is not contraband,” I say, getting more irritated by the second as the two older men still with their weapons move past me and over to the nearest keypad.
Overshine’s expression remains impassive. “It is if you don’t pay the tariff.”
The guy at the keypad looks over at me. “I’m locked out.”
“Unlock it.” Overshine stares down at me with so much confidence in his face I can’t stand it; I want to punch him right in the jaw. I’d make it count, too. One shot. That’s all I’d need to lay him out and use him as a doormat. It’s only the respect I have for my own crew’s right of self-determination —namely the means by which they will die one day— that keeps me from following through on that desire.
I speak low enough so only he can hear me. “Fuck you, Overshine.”
He looks up and addresses his men. “Captain Cass has offered to show me the water stores herself. Wait here.” He takes me by the elbow and forces me out of the airlock area and into the cargo bay.
Baebong attempts to follow us, but two guns come up to stop him, blocking his path.
“Wait there,” I say over my shoulder as I’m pushed into a corridor. “I’ll be right back.” I have to practically run to keep from being dragged along.
“Resisting is not a good idea,” Overshine says in a quieter tone. There might even be a trace of humility there, but it’s more likely that my ears deceive me. I remember watching some of his training sessions. He’s nothing but ruthless, even when it’s not necessary to be that way to get the job done. I remember hating that about him back when I was a part of that OSG machine. The memories are like a bitterness on my tongue that I cannot swallow away. I can’t believe this ass cheese is touching me without my permission. He’s going to pay for that.
“Forcing me against my will is a bad idea,” I say, yanking my arm out of his grasp. I continue walking down the corridor, though, because he’s got friends pointing particle rays at my people. If someone dies because I was being stubborn, I’ll never forgive myself.
Showing him our water is a foregone conclusion, I realize that now. But the interpretation that I offer for what he sees and whether I can convince him of the truth of that interpretation remains to be seen. I channel all the bullshitting capabilities I have and focus on them in my brain. Sell him the idea that you didn’t just sneak more than half a megaliter of water from right under his nose. Convince him. Distract him. Get him thinking about something else.
I change my stride to one with a little sway to it and be sure to position myself in front of him. Using my sexuality was never something I was trained to do with the OSG, but I’m no idiot. Heat works. I’ve lived on my own for three years, sometimes in the roughest places in the universe, and I survived intact — but not by playing the innocent, that’s for sure. Innocents get taken down, but women who look like they know what they’re doing are respected out here in the Dark. I’ll do whatever it takes short of giving away my very last gift to get rid of this guy and his crew so we can be on our way to making contact with the Alliance. An alliance that’s looking better and better by the minute.
Chapter Thirty-Two
WE STOP AT THE KEYPAD by my chambers, the first door we come to after leaving the airlocks and cargo bay area.
“What’s the access code?” he asks, his hand hovering over the numbers and letters as he waits for my response.
I laugh, knocking his hand away. “Yeah, right.” I press the button on the keypad that will allow access to our system information panel and open my palm to hold it in front of the sensor as I stare him down. “You really think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”
“Access granted,” says Adelle’s voice.
“I do, as a matter of fact,” he says, his face once again a mask of zero emotion.
He’s being so cold and emotionless, it’s weird. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a compubot wearing an Overshine kit to make him look like the boy from my past life. Objectively, I could see why someone would want to do that; he is pretty easy on the eyes. But subjectively, no way could I understand why anyone would want to use Overshine as a model for a compubot kit. Why dress a compubot up to look like a depraved psycho?
“Show water storage level,” I say to Adelle, refusing to break eye contact with my oppressor. “If you think I’m an idiot, then you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were.” I’m being extra generous, since I really don’t think he’s that smart at all.
A grid shows up on the small screen above the keypad displaying our water stores. I look at it to confirm what I already know as Adelle reads what’s there aloud. “Water levels at sixty-nine percent.”
I lift an eyebrow at him. “Sixty-nine percent. And what kind of asshole would I be to risk an ice grab right under your nose without going the full hundred percent?” I press the no-access button and place my hand over the sensor again, shutting down the system so no more information can be shared.
“Like I said — I don’t credit you with a lot of brain power. You left the OSG, didn’t you?”
So he knows who I am, then. Good. At least now it’s out in the open. And I know he knows, and he knows that I know. So what does this mean? Is he going to report my position? Keep me here until my father shows up to drag me back? I’ll fucking run him through with my knife before I let that happen. I can’t believe Overshine let me keep my weapon on me, actually. He knows what I can do with it. Talk about stupid. Training at the OSG must be slipping. Or maybe his promotion has gone to his head. He always did strut around a lot whenever he passed a training level.
I look him up and down, sneering when I’m done. “You know, that was always your problem, Overshine. Your head is so fucking big you can hardly fit it through the portals on a warship. I’m surprised you got a seat on the flightdeck, actually. Do they give you a special chair to help you hold that head of yours up off your shoulders? Give your back a break now and again?”
He shoves me by my shoulder, slamming me into the frame of my portal door. “You’d better watch your mouth, Captain.” He practically spits the last word out as he comes closer, crowding me.
“Why? What are you going to do about it?” A memory
of him almost beating the last breath out of a friend of mine, a girl half his size, makes the bile run up into my throat from my stomach. “You going to kill me? Punch me in the temple so many times it turns my brain to mush?” My hand slides down to my leg and my fingers lightly touch the handle of my knife.
“No.”
“No?” He’s inches away from me, his hot breath smelling of herbs for some reason and heating up my face. “What then? Tell your monkeys to blast my crew? Leave me here to die alone?”
“No,” he says, softer this time, staring at me like he’s trying to see into my soul. Ick. I don’t want a slug like him poking around in there.
“What then?” The suspense is killing me. Why is he standing so close? If he gets any nearer, we’ll be swapping spit, and fuck all if I’m not sweating again in my clean flightsuit. So much for smelling like a girl. My next words come blurting out of my mouth without a filter there to stop them. “You gonna kiss me?”
He backs away, looking confused and maybe even nervous. “No.”
I laugh, freaked out about the fact that I might have actually read his mind. “Scared you didn’t I?” Fuck, I scared myself. I’m sweating double-time now.
“No.” His frustration level is going into overdrive, but does that stop me? Hell no. I’m having too much fun to be smart now. This bully who used to lord his superior strength over my friends and me isn’t so tough anymore when it’s just the two of us standing in the corridor of my ship. Some kind of weird adrenaline-like chemical is flooding my system, making me talk way too much.
“Yeah, I figured. Scared of girls too. Scared of us on the practice mat, scared of us in the bedroom.” My chin goes up. “I always saw right through you, you know that? Pretty boy on the outside, black as the Dark inside.” I sneer. “You disgust me.” I take a step to move around him, but he blocks my path.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” He grabs my arm and forces me back. I trip a little over one of his giant boots and my back hits the doorframe again.