Profit & Peril

by Charissa Dufour

  “We’ll be there as fast as we can. Mr. Morgan trusted us to do our job. Now you need to do that, too.”

  Bit opened the locker and quickly spotted the broken comm. device. As her fingertips grazed the electronic, she considered rummaging a little longer in hopes of hearing more. She had never been prone to the seduction of eavesdropping, until now. Bit steeled herself against the desire and grabbed the comm. device, banging the locker shut behind her.

  She winced as she realized her emphasis had been too loud, interrupting the captain’s conversation. Bit glanced at him, catching a peculiar look, rather than the glare she had expected. She scurried out of the bridge, completely baffled by Jack’s behavior.

  Reaching the main living level, she shook off his oddities and hurried down to the mess hall where the security team tended to congregate. Reese and Nathyn play-fought on the mats in the corner, Randal sat at one of the mess hall tables, and Blaine was nowhere to be seen. Bit breathed a sigh of relief.

  While Blaine was no longer badgering her with love, lust, or poetry, he continued to hover, his eyes resting on her more than anything or anyone else in the room. It drove Bit bonkers during the day and invaded her dreams at night. As if she didn’t have enough material to build nightmares.

  Bit moved to the table and plopped down across from Randal, carefully placing the old-school comm. device on the table. “Next?”

  Randal smiled. “Take it apart.”

  Bit frowned at him, turning the device over in her hands. Randal had an array of tools laid out across the table. Bit picked up a tiny screwdriver and began to undo the case. She opened the device and balked at the collection of wires and microchips.

  Bit glanced up at Randal. “How far do you want me to take this apart?”

  “Until I say stop.”

  Bit shrugged and got to work, carefully lining the pieces up in the order she removed them. She struggled with the various wires, trying to figure out how to remember which one went where. Before taking any out, she noticed a role of electrical tape laying with the tools. She snatched it up and began labeling the wires. Finally, she loosened their connections to the device and removed them.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a growing smile on Randal’s face. Evidently she was doing something correct. She was beginning to wonder when he would say stop, as she began to run out of things to remove, when Oden entered the mess hall rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  He spotted Bit hunched over the remainders of the comm. device and crossed to stand beside her, eyeing her work.

  “Nicely done, Bit,” he said, slapping her on the back.

  She gasped, her whole body tensing in pain. Oden’s hand had landed squarely on the bruise covering a large portion of her back. As the silent seconds ticked by, Bit realized her mistake. The whole room was staring at her as she tried to work through the pain, her face pinched and her back arched over Oden’s frozen hand.

  “Bit?” growled Randal as he stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing,” she panted, lying through her teeth.

  Randal waved Oden away from her, and Oden reluctantly obeyed. With rough hands, Randal yanked her shirt up to reveal her back.

  “Dammit, Bit, when did this happen?”

  “I don’t know. One of my sparing seasons I would guess,” she said, again lying to her superior; she knew exactly what blow had caused the bruise, and now she knew how to dodge it.

  Bit glanced around, looking at each man in turn.

  “I am going to get bruised as I learn how to fight. It’s part of the game. I’m sure you all were bruised once or twice while learning. Don’t you dare treat me any different. I get enough of that bullshit from Jack and Blaine. I don’t need it from my team.”

  Slowly, Randal lowered her shirt. “I think she’s made her point. Back to work.”

  Bit breathed a sigh of relief, thanking her lucky stars Blaine hadn’t been in the room. Oden nodded slowly and turned toward the few pans of food always left out for those who couldn’t make mealtimes. The men on the mat went back to sparring, and Randal returned to his seat across from her.

  “Alright, now put it back together,” he ordered.

  Bit looked down at what appeared to be a pile of useless crap. She knew, though, that it had once been a comm. device. Thankfully, she had suspected Randal would expect her to put it back together, so she had organized her pieces of useless crap in a way that she could return it to its former broken self.

  And hour later, she had all the pieces in what she thought were the right places and was carefully screwing the plastic casing back together.

  Randal nodded before lifting a loose wire up from the pile of tools. “Forgot something?”

  “Dammit.”

  Bit unscrewed the casing and went back to work.

  Bit shifted again, the battle for a comfortable spot with all her bruises going decidedly to the hammock. She winced and twisted again. She couldn’t lay on her back—as one is supposed to in a hammock—but when she turned to her side, the bruise on the inside of her leg hurt with the contact of her other leg. Finally, she found a position on her side, with her legs not lying one on top of the other.

  Just as a sigh of exhausted contentment escaped her lips, someone tapped on her door. Bit winced.

  “Go away,” she said just loud enough for the intruder to hear.

  From beyond the door she heard the recognizable chuckle of Oden—the laugh he used only for her. Bit smiled at the thought.

  Oden opened the door just enough to poke his hand in, a little jar clutched in his fingers. “I come bearing a peace offering.”

  “What is it?”

  He took that for an invitation and stepped in, after glancing up and down the little corridor. Things were still tense with Jack, and Oden knew he was stepping over the line by entering her room.

  “It’s a numbing salve for your bruises.”

  Bit begrudgingly sat up, giving up her first comfortable position in hours. She adjusted her seat to protect the bruise on her leg and reached out for the salve. Oden lifted it out of her reach as he shifted her desk chair over so that he could sit next to her. He made a twirling gesture with his free hand and waited.

  Bit glared at him for a second before grinning and turning around. She felt Oden’s calloused fingers lift her shirt to reveal the bruise on her spine. With more gentleness than she expected from the tattooed and pierced pilot, Oden spread the cool cream across her bruise. A shiver ran up her spine at his touch, and Bit felt her breathing increase with her heart rate. Oden lingered over the task but finally lowered her shirt.

  Bit turned and smiled at him as she reached for the little jar. “I can do the one on my leg myself, thank you very much.”

  Oden held the jar away from her, behind his back. She leaned forward in an attempt to snatch it, bringing her face inches away from his.

  The memory of their one kiss came rushing back. They had met a man from Oden’s past—one who enjoyed debasing Oden while simultaneously asking Bit out on a date. In an effort to put the asshole in his place, Bit had kissed Oden passionately, the jerk watching their interaction.

  Oden knew the kiss hadn’t been real but, now, as Bit’s lips neared his, she struggled to remember that they weren’t together. Bit didn’t want a relationship, but for some reason she forgot her life goals when around Oden. Oden leaned forward a little more, tempting her with his lips, the jar of salve forgotten by both of them, even though their arms were still outstretched. All either of them could consider was the temptation laid out in front of them.

  Using every ounce of willpower she still had, Bit turned her head away and slowly leaned back.

  “Right,” Oden said, half to himself, as he brought the little jar forward. “All yours.”

  Oden stood, preparing to leave. Bit grabbed his wrist, holding him back before he could leave.

  “There are things I have to do before I can think about… any of that.”

  His brows pulled t
ogether in a frown. “What do you have to do?”

  Bit looked down. The only person she had ever told was Blaine, and only then because she had been doped up on pain medications. Her secrets were her own, and she had no desire to share them with anyone. Not even Oden.

  “Well, there you have it,” Oden replied to her silence. “Guess I should have known better.”

  “Oden, please.” Bit didn’t even know what she was begging for—his continued friendship, the hope of the future, his help with what she needed to do to find her family—but she continued to cling to his wrist.

  Slowly, he nodded. “Anything for you, Bit,” he said as he twisted his wrist free and exited her room, once again making sure no one saw him leaving.

  Bit stared at the door. Anything for you, Bit. What did that even mean? she wondered. Was it her imagination or had his voice been coated in cynicism. Was Oden beginning to hate her? Did he have a valid reason for disliking her? Was she, in fact, a tease to the men on the ship, or Oden specifically? She didn’t mean to be.

  Bit reclined in her hammock, suddenly questioning her own motivations.

  Chapter Ten

  Three days after Oden had gone to Bit’s room with the numbing salve he lounged on his bunk, staring at the bed elevated above him. He had finally gotten a full night’s sleep now that Calen was back on duty. Calen’s healing arm couldn’t handle any tricky flying, but it could manage the basic shift of supervising the ship’s finicky autopilot. Oden let out a long sigh, willing his muscles to relax.

  The last three days had been a burden, to say the least. He was trapped on the bridge eighteen to twenty hours a day, while Bit helped Vance in the galley or trained with the security team. Oden wasn’t sure how Bit felt about her new assignment, but he sure didn’t like it. Up until recently Bit had been blessed with free range of the ship, meaning she often spent her time keeping Oden company on the bridge or learning about the controls. She had finally been gaining some level of competence with the ship, but now he had no idea when she would be back for a lesson. Or if the captain would let her. After all, she had fallen asleep at the controls.

  Oden thumped his head against the pillow. You’re being a fool. The last thing Bit needs is a boyfriend. He stopped to consider his own thoughts. And the last thing this ship needs is more conflict over her. Just be her damn friend.

  Between himself, Blaine, and, he suspected, Reese all being interested in her, it was already strained enough aboard the ship. Then again, he had a feeling Blaine was out of the running based on the way he kept a wide berth from her. Oden smiled as he thought of Bit kneeing Blaine in the crotch. All the same, Oden needed to back off too, just as he had done on Mars. But the less he saw her the more he felt.

  “Dummy,” he grumbled to himself in the empty crew dorm just as the door slid open.

  “Oden, Cap wants you on the bridge,” came Randal’s voice.

  Oden groaned as he rolled off his bunk. “Let me just get dressed.”

  “No. Now.”

  The severity of Randal’s voice had Oden moving at a scurry. He reached the door in record time and followed Randal up to the bridge. The captain took one glance at him, ignoring the fact he had arrived in his skivvies, and began explaining the situation.

  “Ship approaching. Five miles away. I’ve had Calen change course ten degrees and they’ve followed.”

  “Calen, give me the chair,” Oden ordered.

  “I told Cap I got this.”

  Oden glared at the other pilot. “Calen, your arm doesn’t have full range of motions. You know you’re not equipped to out maneuver another ship.”

  Reluctantly, Calen climbed out of the pilot’s chair and Oden replaced him, ignoring the way his bare thighs chafed against the old, torn leather. He did a quick scan of the control, adjusted the fuel output, and took ahold of the controls.

  “That’s not necessary,” Calen snapped. “You’re wasting fuel.”

  “Calen, you’re relieved,” barked Oden, not worrying about what his friend might think of him; after all, he was the First Pilot now. “That means get off my bridge.”

  “Man the cannon,” Jack added.

  Oden heard Calen curse for a moment before leaving.

  “You’re right, Cap, they do seem to be following us.”

  “Make another course correction.”

  Oden nodded as he adjusted their heading by ten degrees. After a short wait, he confirmed that their tail had followed.

  “Yeah, we’re being followed for sure.”

  “Pirates?” asked Jack.

  “Can’t say for sure. They’re flying a Drurry, which are common among pirates, but the damn thing ain’t moving like a Drurry.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well for starters it’s too fast. Three miles and closing.”

  “Three miles? Already?”

  “Yes, sir.” Oden paused to look up at Jack. “They’re gonna be able to reach us, Cap. Chances are they’ll board.”

  “Shit. Randal, get your team together, and take Kat. I’ll let you know which hatch.”

  Randal nodded and raced out of the bridge.

  “Dammit,” cursed Jack. “Why do they keep attacking us?”

  “You think they heard about our cargo?”

  “What would pirates want with a nuclear reactor?”

  Oden glanced up at him, one eyebrow cocked.

  “You think they’re gonna retrofit it to their ship?”

  “I would. Save a bundle on fuel. But they’re ship is already so fast, I question whether they don’t already have nuclear power.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” growled Jack as Oden made a swift turn, the grav-plating barely keeping Jack on his feet. “Pirates go after stuff like platinum. Not a disassembled reactor.”

  The ship rumbled as Oden forced it into a dive. Sensors pinged as the other ship shot over their heads.

  “Shit,” cursed Jack as he ducked out of reflex. “Did they hit us?”

  “No. They’re going for our forward hatch,” Oden announced.

  Jack took three steps to the door of the bridge and yelled down, “Forward hatch. I’ll do what I can about more life support.”

  Even from his seat on the bridge, Oden could hear the pounding as the security team raced down to the lowest level.

  “Try to out maneuver them,” Jack ordered.

  “I’ll try, but it’s a bit like the Tortoise and Hare right now.”

  “Do what you can.”

  Oden tried another maneuver, mindful of the nuclear items in the storage bay, but as if by no effort on their part, the enemy ship docked with the forward hatch.

  “They’ve docked,” Oden announced unnecessarily.

  “Can you make the system malfunction and force them to detach?”

  Oden frowned up at Jack. He had never thought to purposefully breaking the ship, but the idea had its merits. “I like the idea, and if it was the aft hatch, I could, but not the forward hatch.”

  “Then it’s up to the security team.”

  Bit stood in the galley, cleaning the large pots from breakfast by hand. They had a dishwasher on the ship, but due to its limited space, they only used it for plates, cups, and utensils. Vance enjoyed regaling her of the high tech devices found on the new military ships—things the antique Lenore did not have—whenever she found time to help him. As Bit scrubbed at her fifth pot for that morning, she dreamed of a galley large enough to have the industrial washers Vance talked about.

  Despite the hard work and the sore muscles it produced, Bit liked working in the galley. Or rather, she tried to like it. She missed sitting with Oden, and even sparring with Reese. But the more she helped Vance the more he came to expect her each day. She liked Vance. She just didn’t want to formally become his under-steward.

  Bit glanced over her shoulder to see what Vance was doing. He was prepping the next meal. They had quickly learned that her abilities to cook were limited, if not non-existent. On one of her first days, she had even managed
to start a fire in the galley, much to everyone’s amusement. After that, she was relegated to cleaning and stirring something Vance had already prepared. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t argue. They had a point. No one wanted a fire in a spaceship—including her.

  She was just finishing her last pan and placing it on the peg to dry when she heard a loud bang. The ship rumbled under her feet.

  “What was that?” she asked, frowning at Vance.

  His eyes roamed over the galley, avoiding her gaze. “Nothing.”

  Bit wanted to push, but forced herself to stay quiet on the subject. “What do you want me to do next?”

  “Uhhh,” rumbled Vance, his eyes running to the door leading out toward the staircase yet again.

  “I could wipe down the tables,” she offered.

  “Good. Do that.”

  Bit emerged from the galley with a few wet cloths. The security team had been practicing in the back corner of the mess hall, but by the looks of things, they had left in a hurry, leaving their gear strewn all over the room. Ignoring the team’s mess, Bit moved to the first table and began cleaning up the food splatter left on the tables. As she leaned over the table, the ship took a swift turn—swift for the Lenore—and Bit found herself toppling over the table, the ship’s grav-plating unable to handle the sudden shift.

  She landed hard on the metal tabletop and rolled off, landing on the corner of the bench. Grunting with the impact on her half-healed bruise, Bit dropped her rag and rolled to her hands and knees.

  “What is going on?” she asked aloud as the ship made a quick dive.

  This time the grav-plating held and she found herself toppling forward with the sudden motion.

  “Bit, you okay?” Vance called through the sound of crashing pots and pans.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I’ll live.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Just wedge yourself in until the ride smooths out,” Vance ordered, ignoring her question.

  From within the mess hall, she heard the clatter of many feet racing down the stairs. Bit stumbled to the doorway just in time to see Reese round the corner of the staircase and head down to the lower level.