by Ruby Dixon
"Of course," Kivian states. I follow behind them, and I can feel the eyes of all the V'tarrian's watching us. They might agree to this for now, but I can only imagine what sort of 'fees' we're going to have to pay to acquire the Little Sister back from them. Bribery makes the universe go around, but we have to play this carefully, or else we lose the ship and our credits.
I follow behind Alyvos and Kivian, my hands on my weapons, Sentorr at my back.
"I'm not sure I like how easy that was," Sentorr murmurs into our linked comm as we head into the narrow, crowded halls of the V'tarrian station. "They're going to just release the ship without asking more questions? Either they're extremely crooked or this is a trap."
"Or both," Alyvos mutters.
"We'll be careful," I add in. Now that I have Sophie, I'm not jeopardizing my future with her. "Watch yourselves at the cantina. Don't drink what they put in front of you. Don't talk to anyone. Just hold your glass and listen to the music."
"I'm not sure if a religious man like myself should be heading to a cantina," Kivian says. "What would the Holy Mother Fran think?"
"She'd probably want you to shut your trap," Alyvos comments.
I chuckle, because she probably would.
75
JERROK
It's a long, six-hour wait for the Little Sister to be released. I expected something along these lines, of course. Paperwork at any sort of station is never fast, and the more palms that need to be greased, the slower things can move. I worry about Sophie, sitting in hiding with the other females inside the guts of the Jabberwock. I know she's safe, but this is the longest I've been apart from her since we've met and…I don't like it. I need her, and the craving to see her continues to grow stronger by the moment, until I'm twitching and ready to start throwing things by the time we leave the cantina and head back to the docking bay where the Jabberwock is stationed. Sure enough, the Sister has been pulled into the adjacent bay, as promised. She looks much worse for the wear next to the Jabberwock, her paint dull and a massive dent right at the crest of the ship, like she's taken a few too many shots to the head in a bar fight.
Sentorr makes a pained sound at the sight of her, and I know he's thinking of his mate. I'm thinking of Sophie, and if the sight of the abandoned ship is going to hurt her. My mate's just so keffing…soft. I wouldn't change that for anything, but I wish I could protect her from moments like this.
Kivian just looks pleased at the sight of her. He puts his hands on his hips, studying the ship, then gestures at myself and Sentorr. "You two. Go and check her out. Make sure she can clear the dock on her own or see if we need to tow her. I don't want to scratch The Silver Mistress if we don't have to." He turns to the avian in charge of the dock. "Let us work out the payment details, shall we? I am eager to get off and return to my prayers."
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Kivian's lucky he's charming, because he's also keffing obvious. His good looks and jovial manner are the only reasons he gets away with so much.
Sentorr and I go inside the abandoned ship in silence. There's a somber feeling that hangs in the air as we board the bridge, and everything inside is utterly still. Dead. There's a fine layer of dust on everything, and it's obvious that wherever the brothers went, they went some time ago. I think of all the times I was jealous that Sophie was waiting anxiously for a comm from them and feel like a callous fool. It never occurred to me that they might be in danger.
"Any signs of anything?" Sentorr asks me as I fire up the ship's logs.
I scan them quickly. "Nothing. Just regular entries. Nothing that says where they went, but that's not a surprise." The V'tarr would have checked the communication logs, too. "Let's check the rest of the ship."
We split up and go room by room, checking everything, but it all looks undisturbed. We meet back up on the bridge and I run a scan, but no life forms show other than the two of us. Sentorr sends a comm back to Kivian. "We're all clear here."
"Excellent." Kivian's jovial voice blares into my ear. "I've worked out the payment details with our kind hosts, and they've graciously changed out the fuel cells on the Sister. She should be ready to go, and we'll be right behind you."
I take a seat at the captain's chair while Sentorr moves to the navigation station. "Ready when you are." I'm more than ready to get this over with. I just want to see Sophie again. I know that the moment we're out of the V'tarr orbit, Sentorr will go back to the Jabberwock and Sophie will come over here. At least then we'll be alone together.
"Running a diagnostic," Sentorr says.
We run every single test possible on the engines, checking for problems, but nothing pops up. There's no issues, no malfunctions, nothing that would have caused the three brothers to abandon a working ship. It just makes no sense. I'm baffled by it, and I can tell Sentorr is, too.
The navigator runs a hand down his face as we wait to launch and leave the V'tarr docks. "It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes sense. Why would they leave the Sister behind?"
"Ransom's the only thing I can think of," I say, but it's not a great answer. It means they've been held captive all this time.
"If that's the case, then where's the ransom? Where's the request for credits?" Sentorr looks weary. "They've just vanished. Zoey won't be satisfied until we have an answer."
I suspect Sophie won't, either. "Something will make itself known. Three grown males don't just disappear. They're somewhere, and they're probably causing trouble."
"Here's hoping." Sentorr's voice is grim. "I'm glad there's no signs of a struggle and yet…"
I know what he means. "And yet you wish you had something to bring back to your mate. Some sort of information that would help."
He nods. "I don't like that I can't comfort her."
I know just what he means. I'm a mess at the sight of Sophie's tears. I can only imagine scrappy Zoey weeping and how much it tears him apart. "Let's just get things moving," I say, my mood souring. "I'm tired of looking at your face. I'd rather look at my mate's."
"Feeling's mutual," Sentorr says, unruffled, and links up the Little Sister's navigation with that of the Jabberwock, setting a course.
Everything goes smoothly, and we leave the orbit of V’tarr behind. I watch the green-and-gold planet disappear behind us, the cluttered ring surrounding it fading from view. Sophie’s missing this view. I watch as we pass by one of the far-flung moons and think of Sleipnir, and how much Sophie adores him.
Everything makes me think of my female. It’s like my brain has been completely rewired and nothing matters except her. I don’t even mind it. If anything, it pleases me. I’d much rather think about Sophie than, say, scrapping, or the war, or anything else. The minutes crawl past as we put V’tarr behind us, and when the request to board comes from the Jabberwock, I practically leap out of my seat.
Sentorr does, too, and I know he’s more than ready to see his mate again, as well. We’re both twitchy and restless as the Jabberwock pulls up alongside the Sister and extends the umbilical that connects the ships together. I accept the connection and move to the portal, watching as each protective set of doors opens.
Then Sophie is there, coming through, her face wreathed in smiles, and I can’t stop smiling, either. Our eyes meet through the windows of multiple doors, and her grin grows even broader, her steps quickening as she moves through the tunnel, the carinoux at her heels.
“Happy for you, friend,” Sentorr says in a low voice, and he sounds pleased.
I’m happy for me, too.
76
SOPHIE
This isn't the ship I remember.
As Jerrok sets up the navigation of the Little Sister to align with the Jabberwock, I wander up and down the halls of the abandoned ship. Sleipnir follows nearby, but when he heads into the kitchen and starts sniffing around, I don't follow him. I head toward crew quarters, feeling melancholy.
It's like a ghost town in here. It doesn't feel like a home, and it certainly doesn't feel like the place I lived in b
efore I came to live with Jerrok. Not that it ever truly felt like home but…it didn't feel like this. It didn't feel abandoned. Deserted. A shell of what it once was. The funny thing is, I keep expecting to turn a corner and see broken things in the ship, to see light panels that have gone out or a screen that isn't working, but everything's just fine. There's a layer of dust on all the surfaces and the floors are dirty as if booted feet walked over them dozens of times, but other than that…it's just as it ever was.
I pause in front of Adiron's room, running a finger over the dust that's accumulated in the carved lettering on his door. I want to peek inside, but it doesn't feel right to snoop, even if they're not around.
Footsteps. I recognize the heavy steps and turn to look over at Jerrok with a weary smile. "We good to go?"
"The Sister is set to ride behind the Jabberwock at a safe distance. We're pretty much on auto-pilot for the next while." He comes to my side and slips his arms around my waist, resting his chin atop my head. "You all right?"
"Yeah," I say softly. "I just…don't understand it. Where do three men like that go? What made them leave their ship behind?"
"And their weapons, and their credits," Jerrok adds. "I installed a secret panel for them in the engine room a few years back, and I checked it earlier. It's full. Wherever they went, they intended to come back."
That makes me feel worse. "Do you think they're dead?"
"I don't know what to keffing think, to be honest." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "But I want you to know you belong with me, no matter what. Even if we find them tomorrow and they desperately need a navigator." His hands slide up to my breasts, cupping them. "You belong with me."
I chuckle. "They must be super desperate if they want me as a navigator."
"No. They know what a smart, wonderful female you are." He nuzzles at my hair, brushing his mouth against it. "I should return to the engine room. I need to watch over the diagnostic checks to make sure nothing's been tampered with. I just wanted to check on you. Sure you're all right?"
"I'm sure." I hug his arms against me, feeling very loved and protected, tucked against his chest and enveloped in his arms. "If it's all right with you, I think I'll clean up. It doesn't look like anyone's done it in forever." Absently, I rub the toe of my shoe against a scuff on the floor.
"That might not all be recent. They are three adult males in a ship, after all. I doubt a va Sithai has ever cleaned up after themselves."
I laugh, because he's not altogether wrong. The brothers don't need a navigator as much as they need a maid.
Because cleaning's a distraction as well as a pleasure for me, I do it by hand instead of starting up the cleaning bots. I pull out all of the cleaning equipment from the closet in the hangar, and it's all just as I left it. Yeah, the brothers aren't big on cleaning up after themselves, but I knew that. I head into the kitchen and pick through a sea of wrappers and empty noodle cartons, wrinkling my nose and fishing a door handle out of Sleipnir's mouth. "Unless whoever took them decided to eat all their noodles and toss down the wrappers, something tells me that this is more Kaspar and Adiron's doing than anything else," I tell the big carinoux. "They're pigs. Mathiras is a little better, but not by much."
After I clean up the sea of wrappers, I scrub the countertops and the floors. I turn the food dispensers to cleaning mode and the machines whirr and steam, making a ton of noise as I move to the next room, and the next, and down the hall. By the time I'm satisfied that the areas Jerrok and I will be using are as clean as they can possibly be, I wipe my sweaty brow and move to one of the wall panels, checking in on Jerrok. He's still in the engine room, glancing between his data pad and the screen of scrolling information in front of him. Still running diagnostics, it seems. I want to go and kiss him all over, because I'm filled with such love for him. Even through all that's been going on, his first concern is how I feel. No one's ever put me first before him, and it's the most incredible feeling. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it. It makes me want to shower his face with kisses…and shower places below his belt with kisses, too.
But my Jerrok is busy and I don't want to be the reason he misses something important. With a sigh, I turn toward the lavatory. It's the last room left, and the lavatory itself is a project all on its own. There's a massive steam shower, toilets, sinks, and enough equipment for a contingent of eight, the capacity of a ship like the Sister. Each private room has its own small lavatory, but the showers in those are sonic.
This one's water, and the thought of a hot, steamy shower sounds amazing right now.
I hesitate for a moment and then look around for Sleipnir. He paces around the hall, sniffing along the cracks I just cleaned, and then paws at one.
I move forward, curious, and peer at the narrow space between the door and the hallway that's a handspan wide. I thought it was a slot for more bots, but Sleipnir seems very interested in it. I put my hand in—and touch cool metal.
I pull out a long-handled freestanding broom, shiny and chromatic, and Sleipnir's ears perk up.
"You," I scold, even as I screw the bottom of the broom off. "Such a naughty baby, aren't you? You smelled all that metal and wanted a snack." I pull the long handle off of the broom and hold it out for Sleipnir.
His powerful jaws immediately crunch around it and he races down the hall with his prize, no doubt off to find a bed where he can slobber on it in private.
I roll my eyes and head into the lavatory. Perfect time to shower, at least. The lavatory's just as gross as I thought it would be, but after living with three guys on board the Sister, I'm not entirely surprised at the state of it. Nothing here looks amiss either, right down to the finger smudges on the big mirror over the sinks. I shake my head in disgust at men, alien or otherwise, who don't know how to turn on a damn scrubber, and strip my clothes off.
I turn on the shower heads—all of them—and the room immediately begins to fill with steam. There's a wooden bench at the far end of the shower booth, and I sit on it, closing my eyes and letting the steam melt some of my worries away. It feels good in here, I realize, the heat easing some of the aches out of my body like a sauna, and I wonder absently if it'd be good for Jerrok to try. Maybe we need to get a steam shower back on our station.
Our station. Funny how I've decided it's half mine, though I don't think Jerrok would disagree. He'd give me the entire thing if it made me happy. I don't want anything but him, though.
Smiling, I open my eyes and get to my feet. The lavatory is filled with clouds of steam, the air thick and muggy. I glance over at the mirrors absently…and pause.
The mirrors are fogged up with condensation. In the condensation, someone's written something.
It's a message.
77
SOPHIE
I stare at the mirror in utter fascination. It's a message. Someone's left a message for us.
I just…can't read it. The lettering is unfamiliar to me, and I can't read mesakkah. Obviously this message was meant for someone to find. I gaze at the lettering, trying to make it out, and the symbol at the front looks vaguely familiar. I think that's the mesakkah honorific for “lord.” Is this…a name?
Jerrok will know.
Excited, I go to open the door to the bathroom, even though it's steamy and I'm still naked. It's not like there's anyone else on the ship anyhow. As I touch the handle, though, the door doesn't move. I frown, running my fingers along the edges, and discover that one of the wires connecting the door is broken, hanging limp next to the panel as if it's been cut. How did I miss that earlier?
Something moves in the steam behind me, and my heart plummets.
I'm not alone in this room.
My first instinct is to curl up in a ball and try to hide, but that's stupid. Whoever is in here knows that I'm in here, too. It's not like I've been quiet about it. I move away from the mirror, looking for something to use as a weapon. I can't find anything, and my searching hands move over smooth porcelain and metal, trying to twist knobs of
f or pull a handle free so I have something to use. The only thing I have is a towel. The moment I grab it, I hear the click of a blaster being armed, and the gentle whine of it firing up.
I freeze as the barrel moves next to my head.
"Who are you?" I ask. The words come out in English, which is silly, because this alien won't know English.
There's a squawk, and my translator chimes in. "Remain where you are."
I do, not daring to move. I hold the towel just over the bench, my back aching from being bent over, but I'm too scared to straighten. I feel intensely vulnerable naked, but more than that, I'm unarmed. I wish I had a gun, or a club.
And Sleipnir. My Sleipnir. He'd protect me. I wonder if he smelled this intruder earlier when I thought he was sniffing out the broom? Did he notice the scent of another and silly me thought he just wanted a new chew toy? I'm an idiot. I've been so trusting, and now I'm going to pay for it. I raise my gaze up to my captor, daring to look at him.
It's one of the bird people. The V'tarr. He's covered in a fine layer of golden feathers, his face beaky and triangular. His eyes and hands are raptor-like and there's an arching plume at the back of his head. He wears a black uniform and boots, and looks like some sort of demonic cross between Big Bird and a humanoid.
He nudges the blaster's barrel toward me again. "Where are your credits?"
"M-my credits? I don't have credits."
He tilts his head, then nods, and to my horror, I realize he's talking with someone else via comm. Someone else is on this ship, too. "We heard you speaking earlier. Your mate said there are credits. Where are they?"
I blank out. Jerrok mentioned that there were credits, but I don't remember where he said they were. Oh god. Jerrok. Is he safe? Is he being held with a gun to his head, too? I have to get to him. I lick my lips, trying to think. Better yet, trying to stall. If I can keep this guy with me, hopefully that means Jerrok is safe. "I don't remember," I say, and it's not hard to add tears and a whiny note to my voice. "Please, I'm just a human."