by J. N. Chaney
It also meant I had to stay sober while she was on board in order to keep my wits about me. I didn’t love that, but I’d have to make do.
“I hooked her up with a few of my contacts,” admitted Ollie as he set his data pad down on the counter. “Just some work from people who didn’t care who got the job. It should be easy enough, Jace.”
“You’re giving her work, now?” I asked with a grimace. “I thought you wouldn’t take her on until she had a ship?”
“Thanks for rubbing that in,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
“I’m not,” said Ollie with a frown as he glanced between the two of us. “Calista, can Jace and I have a moment?”
She shrugged and shot me another irritated look before wandering toward the front of the store. With her arms crossed over her chest, she stared up at the artwork hanging along the walls. I noticed her tilt her ear toward us, though, and I figured she was still trying to eavesdrop.
“Jace, listen,” said Ollie under his breath as he leaned toward me, speaking quietly enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear. “I did her a favor to help her get the funds to find a ship. It’ll help me to have another Renegade on my books, but I need to know she can handle the work I give her. That’s why I set this job aside for you.”
“So, you want me to play babysitter,” I muttered quietly, finally understanding where he’d been going with this. “And, as your newest client, I got the short stick.”
“Getting the short stick is one way to put it, but I prefer to think of you as a very well-paid babysitter,” corrected Ollie.
He held up the data pad and turned it toward me, and I snatched it from him as I read the job’s payout.
For a second, I thought maybe I’d misread the number. Maybe my mind had added a few extra zeroes out of wishful thinking. It seemed too high for a simple delivery gig, and after the run-in with the operative who conned his way onto my ship, I was instantly suspicious.
“Explain,” I demanded. “It shouldn’t pay that well.”
“Now you don’t want to get paid?” asked Ollie with a bewildered expression. “I really don’t get you, Jace.”
I glared down at him and refused to take the bait. “It’s more than a sane person would offer for a delivery run, and you know it.”
“I do,” confessed Ollie as he absently scratched at his ear. “I may have negotiated you—and thereby me, through my finder’s fee—a better cut of the delivered goods than a first-time freelancer should offer.”
Ah.
This was one of those jobs where Calista wasn’t just dropping off expensive stuff to rich people, but she was also collecting the creds herself to cover the cost of the goods. She’d make a healthy profit, probably even enough to get her ship, and anyone helping her would get a cut as well in exchange for a quick and safe delivery.
I chuckled, and it all made sense now. “You sneaky bastard.”
“When she works for me, I’ll protect her from stuff like this,” he promised, lifting his hand as if swearing to honor the gods with his word.
“Alright,” I conceded. “What do I need to know?”
“You’re both her transportation and her security detail,” said Ollie as he cast a stern glare at me. “If she dies, then you don’t get paid, Jace.”
“Fine,” I groaned.
“There are just a handful of stops. One pickup. Mostly drop-offs. You keep her alive, she delivers all the goods, you head back here when you’re done, and then you walk away from this a wealthier man for your trouble.”
It sounded so simple. So easy.
I’d already learned not to trust easily. I’d probably have to deal with a horde of something trying to kill us. I just hoped that this payday ended with a net-positive yield for me after I had to pay for any damage this trip might have caused to my ship.
I straightened my back and stretched, my joints popping as I made a show of it. I walked toward her, and she paused her fake-meandering of the store to meet me halfway.
“So, you’re in?” asked Calista with an irritated scowl.
“Looks like it. It’s your lucky day,” I told her. “Get your shit to my ship. Ollie will give you the dock number. We leave in an hour.”
“Aren’t you going to help me get the goods?” she asked with a gesture toward the door.
“Nope!” I said, smiling as I walked out of the store. I waved at them as I stepped out into the crowd, taking a moment to pause and savor the look of exasperation on Calista’s face through the storefront window.
Maybe this would be fun after all.
It took Calista forty-five minutes to finally make it to the Renegade Star. By the time I’d lowered the ship’s gate to let her in, she was tapping her foot impatiently as she waited beside a large crate secure to a small hover-dolly.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered as she walked on board, leaving her crate in the docking bay.
“Are you going to bring that with you?” I asked, gesturing toward the dolly.
“Yeah, you can put it wherever,” said Calista as she walked past me on her way to the stairs. “I need something to drink. What do you have, Renegade? Water? Tea, maybe?” She paused and looked at me before sniffing the air around by my face. “Or is all you have booze?” She chuckled to herself and continued into the cargo bay, leaving me to do her work for her.
A power move—trying to make me carry her bags onto my own damn ship. I needed to set some very firm boundaries, both for her safety and my own sanity.
I gestured toward the abandoned dolly as it sat out in the docking bay’s walkway. “Woman, if you want that to come with us, I suggest you go get it.”
She paused mid stride and let out a long sigh. “What do you think I’m paying you for, Jace?”
“To keep you alive,” I reminded her. “Not carry your shit. Go get it.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” I replied.
Calista turned on her heel and stormed toward the crate. She grabbed the handle and tugged, easing the dolly into the cargo bay as I stood with my thumbs hooked on my belt loops and simply watched.
It took her a few minutes to figure out how to strap down the crate, and I made a show of getting comfortable as I leaned against the far wall, doing nothing. I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed watching her fiddle with the harness as she cursed under her breath.
I considered all of this to be penance for taking that coffee maker I wanted, for no other reason than to spite me.
Little did she know her precious gun was in the row of lockers next to her, almost close enough for her to grab. Part of me wondered if she’d bring it up again, but I figured she was biding her time for the perfect moment to strongarm me into giving it back.
It seemed like something she’d do, anyway.
“Siggy, tell Control we want to enter the takeoff queue,” I ordered.
“Right away, sir,” said the AI.
When the crate was properly secured, I jogged up the staircase without a word. She followed and did a fairly good job of keeping pace with me as I led her into the lounge where I’d killed a man just a few days earlier.
She didn’t need to know about that, either.
I scanned the open center of the Renegade Star, still impressed with how well the cleaners had done. They hadn’t missed even a single bullet hole in the wall, ceiling, or floors. The new couch sat where the old one had been torn to shreds by gunfire, and though the color was a slightly darker shade than the previous one, that was a nuanced detail I couldn’t have cared less about. The busted chair he’d nearly handcuffed me to had also been replaced, and the whole place damn near sparkled.
I wandered over to the spot where I’d left the corpse and scanned the ground. Not even a drop of blood remained to give so much as a hint that a hitman had died here.
“This is the lounge,” I said with a lazy gesture around me. “Rule one: this is the only place you get to be besides your room.
I’ll be in the cockpit, but don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted with a shrug. “Maybe if you’re on fire.”
She frowned and crossed her arms before giving me a disapproving once-over. “Do emergencies happen a lot on this ship? You often find your guests on fire, then?”
“Look,” I snapped, not bothering to mask my irritation. “Unless something’s about to explode, just stay away from the cockpit. Got it?”
She just scoffed in reply.
“Rule two,” I continued. “Stay out of the cargo bay unless I tell you it’s clear.”
“But all my things are down there,” she pointed out. “The goods, the lists, even a few of my personal things are in the crate.”
“I don’t care,” I reminded her. “If you go down to the cargo bay without me, Siggy will sound an alarm loud enough to deafen you.”
“Terrifying,” she said with mock horror.
“Try me,” I challenged her.
She frowned, clearly debating her options here, but she ultimately rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Our ride time to the first destination is about six hours,” I said. “Your room is the first one down that hallway and to the left.” I pointed toward the open corridor that would take her to the extra bedrooms on board.
She opened her mouth to ask something, but I plowed ahead. I knew I was only giving a hasty and half-assed tour, but I just wanted to get off the station already.
I didn’t need her commenting on every little rule. I just needed her to stay out of my way and not get me killed.
“Rule three,” I continued without letting her get a word in edgewise. “Don’t eat my food.”
“Which is your food?” she asked, eyeing the kitchenette on the far side of the lounge.
“All of it.”
I turned my back on her before she could say anything else, and I walked past the new couch on my way out of the lounge. An annoyed groan mingled with the thud of my boots on the floor, but I let her keep her aggravation to herself.
She’d survive.
I didn’t need—or want—to entertain her for the voyage. She could find a suitable way to keep herself busy for six hours.
When I reached the bridge, I slid into the pilot’s chair and leaned back into my seat. “Siggy, lock the door to the cockpit and make sure you keep an eye on her.”
“At all times, sir,” promised the AI. “Sealing the cockpit doors now.”
The entrance onto the bridge closed behind me, locking me away from Calista. I let out a short breath of relief now that I had some distance from her. “What’s she doing, Siggy?”
“Miss Drapier is currently still in the lounge,” informed Sigmond. “Though she appears to be standing at the very edge of the room, peering out toward the stairwell that leads into the cargo bay.”
“Are you kidding me?” I muttered.
“No, sir,” answered Sigmond. “I’m quite serious.”
“It’s just an expression,” I told him as I pointed toward the holo.
“Ah, I see, sir,” said Sigmond.
“Huh,” I muttered. “Fine, I guess it doesn’t matter. Show me what she’s doing, Siggy.”
“Right away.”
A video feed of the ship’s interior appeared on the holo. Sure enough, she leaned against the doorframe that led to the cargo bay, her palms flat against the lounge wall as she craned her neck to see around the corner.
Technically, she wasn’t in the cargo bay yet. She was just thinking about it really, really hard.
I shook my head, not even fully believing how brazen she was being right now. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like this woman just enjoyed testing me.
“Patch me through to the ship’s announcement system,” I ordered.
“Right away, sir,” said the AI. “Task complete. You are live.”
“Stay away from the stairs!” I snapped, my voice thundering through the ship’s speaker system.
On the video feed, she flinched and set a hand on her heart. Her eyes snapped shut, and it seemed like maybe her heart had skipped a few beats with surprise.
Good. Maybe that would teach her to listen to the ship’s captain when he gave her an order.
She took a few moments to breathe and settle down before she scanned the room around her. When her eyes landed on the camera, she flicked me off.
I laughed. “I’m done, Siggy.”
“Live feed terminated,” said the AI.
“I meant what I said. You remember what I told her would happen if she went down to the cargo bay?”
“You said you would like for me to blare an alarm should Miss Drapier go without you?”
“The loudest one you’ve got,” I said with a nod. “Try to focus it in her direction, though, so that you don’t deafen me.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want her finding that stick,” I said, mostly to myself as I reclined in my chair. “Plus, I never really wanted her on board in the first place. Let’s get this over with, Siggy.”
The queue for departure was shorter this time. Maybe it was a quiet time of day, or maybe I just got lost in my thoughts as my mind raced about what lay ahead of me. Whichever it was, it seemed like almost no time at all before we’d been cleared to leave Taurus Station.
Despite my relief at finally getting away from this place, I couldn’t deny the tension burning through my core. Anything Calista touched seemed to come with a catch or bad news, and that left me wondering what sort of chaos we’d encounter on what should otherwise be a simple delivery route.
As the docking bay’s mechanized arm lifted us out into open space, I took a deep and settling breath to calm my nerves. The Renegade Star hummed beneath me, as eager to fly as I was.
Calista’s job didn’t really matter to me. Babysitting the new kid would keep me busy, sure, but I needed to use this time to think of a plan. With the data stick’s tracker still scrambled and valuable Union data stuffed in a hidden compartment on the Star, I had quite a dilemma to address.
Once I figured out how to safely fence the stick back to the Union and get paid without ending up in an early grave, I would make the detour and get it done. Even if she was still on board.
In the meantime, I had Calista to deal with. And, more importantly, to monitor. My gut told me she was harmless, but I couldn’t be too careful. Especially not after nearly getting my ass handed to me by an unknown hitman.
The Union would want their data back. The fake Union operatives would want to intercept me before I got the chance to hand it over to anyone, much less the Union. And, of course, the Sarkonians were probably still pissed that I’d given them a fake.
As the Star rumbled around me, we launched into the black. I steered the ship toward our first SG Point, more than ready to be among the stars again.
I’d have to spend quite a few days with Calista on this voyage, but I’d survived worse. With two major empires and a team of covert assassins on my tail, Calista wasn’t even close to being my biggest concern.
And hopefully that wouldn’t change.
18
“Approaching the first set of coordinates,” announced Sigmond.
“About time.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and arched my back into a stretch. I’d needed a quick nap in my own bed before facing whatever fresh hell Calista was about to bring my way. “What system is this again?”
“The Brunetis System,” he replied. “According to available data, there is a single star at the heart of this system, with four planets in this sector.”
He continued to rattle off facts as I left my room and went to the bridge.
“Our destination is Junae III. Due to an arid climate and low quality soil, the planet is not eligible for agro-classification. Most of the economy is supported by mining operations, though it does generate some tourism.”
“Really?” I slid into the captain’s chair and
studied the ugly world as Sigmond brought up the gal-net data on the holo. From looking at it, I was genuinely surprised to hear that tidbit about it bringing tourists. “You sure that’s right? I can’t see why anyone would want to come here if they didn’t have to.”
Even from space, the whole planet was mud brown and looked as enticing as a dirty sock. It certainly didn’t share any of the usual resort-like qualities that luxoplanets tended to covet, like white beaches or vast stretches of sapphire-blue water.
Not that I had ever taken a real vacation, but if I did, it wouldn’t have been on Junae III.
“Affirmative, sir,” Sigmond replied. “The tourism on this planet is minimal, but it creates enough revenue to sustain the local economy.” The image on the holo zoomed in and rotated to give me a different view of the planet, this time of its north pole. “The polar caps are advertised as an affordable getaway that is popular for both honeymoons and family vacations. Most of the populated colonies are in those locations as well.”
The scan of Junae III disappeared, and the brown ball was replaced with a holo pamphlet detailing its various vacation packages. The polar caps featured long stretches of waterfront property, and they had the only blue or green areas of the entire planet.
“Hell, this doesn’t look half bad, Siggy,” I admitted. “Maybe this job won’t be boring after all. I might just stop in for a massage. Says here the Magic Touch has a five star rating and is running a special.”
He made a simulated coughing noise before continuing. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe that will be possible, sir.”
I raised a brow and stared into one of the cockpit’s cameras. “And why would that be? I’m the captain here. If I want a happy ending, I’ll get one, Siggy.”
“Of course, sir. Unfortunately, the job description directs us to dock in the desert region, not at one of the northern or southern resorts. The town is called Roh. Due to time restraints, you could be late to the next delivery. If that happens, your overall pay would be reduced. You are the captain, however, and that is your decision.”