Ride the Stars

by Autumn Dawn

  After all, she worked with Sesame, who was a wild success by any standards, and certainly self-supporting. She examined a nearby part critically. Worn and scratched, it might yet pass muster, with a little tinkering.

  So what if she sometimes got a little lonely, she told herself. Better that than suffer with the wrong man-any man, she hastily corrected herself. Maybe she’d get a pet. That little lemur was pretty cute.

  Without acknowledging the fulminating glare Quadril sent her as she passed him at a console, tagging wires, she retrieved a scooter and a probe and rolled it under the engine to give Sesame, who was already underneath, a hand. Besides, it was a great hiding spot, and a wonderful place to think.

  Perhaps too wonderful, but really, someone ought to have put that coolant drain plug in more securely.

  Half of her mind was occupied with noting readings while the other side was mapping out a schematic for one of the changes they would have to make when she noticed the loose plug.

  Peering through her safety goggles at the engine’s belly, lit by the twin beams from her eye wear, she considered the plug. Thinking it merely needed a quick twist to right it, she reached over Sesame, who was directly underneath. The plug, just held in place due to its jammed gasket, gave way, bathing Sesame’s face and neck in a quart of warm, oily liquid before she managed to stop it back up.

  It was a very unhappy augmenter who scooted out from under the engine’s belly. Peeling off her coated goggles, she whisked the muck off of her face with both hands, slinging it to the deck, and slicked back her hair. “Divine retribution is yours,” she told the astonished Quadril, ignoring the gaping Jaide.

  She exited before anyone found the presence of mind to laugh.

  Two days later Sesame was still ignoring Nemesis. Jaide was pretending to ignore Skye as well, but he wasn’t fooled. Even though he chose not to speak to her, he wasn’t blind to her covert efforts to observe him. Although he couldn’t tell for certain what thoughts went on behind her midnight eyes, the fact that she felt compelled to look his way was telling.

  He wasn’t yet sure what he wished to do about it.

  Taking a sip of fruit juice, he half listened to the others talk as he thought about the woman.

  Lore was less subtle.

  “Could you come here a minute, Jaide?” he called. He had a game in one hand, and he was shaking the unit and muttering.

  Skye recognized the game. It had been broken for some time.

  “Trouble?” she inquired after a moment’s hesitation, leaving the counter to approach their table. With a wary flick of her eyes toward Skye, she sat down.

  He grunted, whacking the electronic box with his hand. “It just died on me, and right in the middle of a space battle. I was just about to defeat the star cruiser, too.”

  “Mm,” she murmured in sympathy. “Tough break.” She set down her cup, took a piece of fruit from the plate on the table and popped it in her mouth. Selecting a tool from her belt, she held out her hand for the game, crooking her fingers insistently when he hesitated. Game in hand, she set about taking off the housing.

  Lore pulled her hot mug towards him and sniffed, wrinkling his nose with distaste. “What is this? It smells like fuselage.” He pushed it back towards her.

  “It’s a tonic, and it’s an acquired taste,” she informed him. It was certainly true; she hadn’t managed to acquire the taste yet. Worse than that, it seemed she was going to have to up her daily dose. Judging by the faint trembling in her hands, she wasn’t getting enough, and she desperately needed it. The last couple of days had brought with them feelings she hadn’t experienced in years, and that was not to be tolerated.

  “What’s it called?” he wanted to know. “I want to make certain to decline if anyone ever offers me any.”

  She hesitated but saw no reason not to tell him. Not many people would recognize the name, or care if they did. “It’s called Seti tea. It helps me stay focused on my job,” she explained, glossing over its true attributes.

  “Among other things,” Skye murmured over his own glass, his gaze dark and knowing.

  Her hand tightened on her tool. She didn’t owe him any explanations. Nor would she try to justify her actions. Sesame gave her enough grief as it was. Meeting him stare for stare, she said with arch defiance, “Time is money, and all that.”

  “Is it?” he asked, his tone faintly mocking.

  A trifle unnerved by his perception, she muttered, “Not that I’ve seen.” She grew silent as black thoughts consumed her.

  Her brother Chrys had broken into her account a couple of years ago and wiped it out. Then he’d used her credit information to rack up a bill with every cathouse and drug den in the sector before she’d discovered the theft and put a stop to it. Unfortunately, as long as his creditors had her name on their bills, the dealers and madams weren’t taking excuses for deferred payment. She shuddered, remembering some of their not-so friendly visits. This job would just about pay them off.

  Too bad there was nothing she could do for her damaged credit. No bank with a watt of sense would lend her money now. No money, no dreams. It would take her a long time to accumulate enough cash to pay for the home she dreamed of, to buy the stability she craved.

  She sighed. Sometimes life really sucked.

  “Sorry to hear it,” Lore commiserated, handing Jeeves a slice of sweet potato. Having no interest in Jaide’s pastry, the lemur made no move towards her, but he did give her a friendly bob of his head. “Pretty lady.”

  She raised a skeptical brow. “I’ll bet you say that to any woman bearing food.”

  “Actually,” Skye surprised her by answering, “He’s offended more than one woman by calling her nasty.” He stroked his pet’s small head affectionately. What he didn’t say was that the lemur was very picky about whom he befriended. Only trustworthy sorts with a capacity for great affection earned his attention. Skye decided to trust the small animal’s instincts, especially where Jaide was concerned, since they mirrored his own. Something worthwhile, something hidden, waited for discovery behind her walls of stone-studded ice.

  When next he spoke his tone held lingering affection. “You should learn to speak Draconian,” he tossed out, looking for a topic of conversation, anything neutral to make her open up.

  “Why?”

  He glanced at Lore, seeking inspiration. “So the next time someone curses your flying in Draconian, you’ll know just what he’s calling you?”

  Her brow wrinkled and she gave her head a slight shake. “What an incentive.”

  “She’s afraid she can’t do it,” Lore said wisely.

  Skye nodded in solemn agreement. “It’s a tough language.”

  “Still, children do it all the time.”

  Aggravated, Jaide sighed. “Fine. Teach me your names. That can’t be less user friendly than Nemesis,” she said, shooting the captain an aggrieved look. The tension between the captain and Sesame was really beginning to fray her nerves.

  The men exchanged sly looks, then Skye said something in a hissing, clicking tongue. She squinted at him, as if she could see the syllables by looking hard. He said it again, breaking it down slowly for her. “Sep-stluk?” she hazarded, and his lips twitched.

  With a grin, Lore informed her, “You just called him a cooking pot.” She laughed. Pleased, he told her his name, then broke it down for her.

  “Clp-sk-tpt?” she tried, twisting her tongue.

  Lore turned the color of a red dwarf. Nudging him with a canine-baring grin, Skye teased, “You sly one, you. We shall have to watch you.”

  Jaide waved the subject away, unwilling to be drawn out any further. She gave him back his repaired game. “They have translators for this. Much as it might amuse you to hear me mangle your mother tongue, I do have work to do.” She gulped the last of her tea and rose. “We’ll have a parts list for you by this evening, Captain,” she said, addressing Nemesis. “Walcha Moon Base 7 should have what we need.”

  The idea of jumping
ship there tantalized for a moment, but she dismissed it as both improbable and impractical. Nemesis wasn’t going to let them wander off unescorted, and she needed the money. At least the rest of his crew seemed to be trying to get along again, which was more than she could say for her greedy creditors. Speaking of which.…

  No one was around in the engine room, so she used the screen there to access her electronic mail. Three of the banks she’d queried had left messages. We regret to inform you...bad credit risk...history of instability.... The last bank had helpfully suggested she find a partner with a solid credit history.

  “And where am I supposed to find that?” she snarled at the screen in frustration, terminating the connection. “What I need is an investor with deep pockets and iron clad honesty.” An unlikely combination at best.

  She grabbed a torch, settled her safety glasses on her face, and proceeded to dissect a part so she could rebuild it, still gnawing at her difficulties. In spite of her successes, she didn’t think she could seek a job from any of the big companies, even though that would be ideal. Her lack of formal training and her brother’s legacy would not look good on a resume. Besides, she made good money with Sesame.

  Jaide quickly rejected the idea of asking Sesame to cosign a loan with her. Friends and money didn’t mix. Still, maybe there was another way?

  Her work soon blocked out thoughts of finding a partner. In fact, it was well past the dinner hour when she emerged from her haze long enough to hear her whimpering stomach.

  Skye, Lore and Quadril sat in front of the big screen television, watching sports. The galley was not the empty solitude she craved, but she was too depressed to care as she washed her hands in the sink, getting black grease everywhere.

  Skye looked away from the Amazon boxing match, watched her grab the first sealed meal that she could find in the pantry and toss it in the flash oven. Grease streaked her face and her ruined pants showed several shiny patches of oil. It wasn’t the first time she’d come to the galley a mess, but he’d never seen her look so tired and morose. “Having troubles with the augmentations?” he asked, looking at her over the back of the couch, one arm braced along its edge. It was a logical assumption, considering what she’d been doing all day.

  “No.” Selecting a chilled beer, she twisted off the top, then took a long draft. Tucking another bottle under her arm, she grabbed her tray and sat down at the unclaimed booth and proceeded to scowl at her ever-present tablet.

  “You’re allowed to break for meals, you know,” he suggested wryly, eyeing her slumped form. It looked as if her elbows were the only thing keeping her sagging frame upright. “We’re not in that big a hurry.”

  “I am.” At his warning frown, she sighed and explained, “This isn’t for you. I’m...taking care of personal business.”

  “Must be heavy stuff,” he offered, joining her and collecting one of her beers. She frowned as he twisted off the cap but said nothing. Instead, she closed her eyes and rubbed the side of her head, smearing a streak of grease. He took the opportunity to nab her tablet.

  “Hey!” she snatched it back, but he’d already seen it.

  Leaning back in his seat, he took a swallow of beer and considered her in puzzlement. “An application for a racing syndicate? Why? I thought you already had more work than you could handle.”

  She glowered but answered him anyway. “I need the money.” She considered her tablet with an unhappy expression. “I haven’t bothered before because I like working with Sesame. Besides, I know how those syndicates work. They’ll make me do things their way and the next thing I know I’ll be just another drone.” She stared at the screen for a moment, then deleted her entry in disgust. Tossing it on the table, she shook her head and went back to her dinner. “It doesn’t matter anyway; they’d never hire me.”

  He couldn’t disagree with that. Skye had been busy hunting data in the last two days. He now knew all about her brother’s escapades, including his part in her financial difficulties-it was common knowledge in certain select sectors-but the respectable community knew nothing of it. It was hard to say whether she’d given a court battle up out of the hopelessness of nailing her drug runner brother down long enough to sue, or if it was loyalty keeping her quiet.

  Or fear.

  Skye decided to take a calculated risk. He wanted to know who he was dealing with; a loyal family member or a fearful victim. “Why didn’t you just sue him?”

  She gave him the long, sharp look of a cornered cobra. Then her eyes frosted over as she hunted for the one person privy to that private information.

  Correction was in order, and fast. “I have your brother’s dossier, Ms. Carlos.” His voice dropped to an intimate murmur. “I told you I enjoyed the hunt, Josie.” He held her angry glare without a trace of softening. Josie Carlos’-a.k.a. Jaide Calanarre’s-record had been clean, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to share her slime brother’s last name. “The robbery is just one crime out of a long list, but it’s noted that you didn’t press charges. Are you the forgiving type, by chance?” Her jaw clamped shut and he could see her grinding her teeth. “It would seem not,” he observed with a phantom of a smile.

  “If you’re trying to get to him through me, bounty hunter,” she told him with wide, mocking eyes that destroyed his humor, “then you’re wasting your time. I don’t know where he is, so I guess that you’ll just have to hunt for him like everybody else.”

  He grabbed her wrist as she rose, delaying her. “You can’t protect him from what’s coming,” he warned.

  The expression on her face was pure contempt. “Why would I want to?” He was just like the others, before she’d changed her name. Get the woman to relax, hey, seduce her if need be, get her to trust, then-wham! Use her to collect the bounty on her brother. The scavenger wasn’t the least abashed about it either. They never were.

  Slowly she slid her wrist out of his loose hold, never breaking eye contact, letting him know she was not afraid, and never would be. Then, completely disdaining his dangerous reputation, she leaned closer, her smile a parody of sweetness. “I sincerely hope you’re a good pilot, Drac. Chrys runs a fast ship. I ought to know-I designed it.”

  He leaned back, unimpressed with her attempts to blacken herself. “That would be the Bat, wouldn’t it? The one that you raised such an uproar over last year when you discovered it stolen from under your nose? The one you chased half-way around the system before finding out that your brother had taken it on an indefinite joy ride?”

  Remembered fury forced her to look away. The Bat had been her baby, and after all the hard work she’d done, it still made her almost sick thinking about what Chrys must be doing with it, and to it. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself aloud, “I can build another ship.” But it would never be the Bat.

  “I could return it to you.”

  For a long moment, she could hear nothing but her harsh breaths, see nothing but haze. Temptation teased her, seduced with the image of her ship, her brainchild, safe in its hanger. But it was a lie, and she was too old to believe in fables. “Tell me another one,” she rasped, then turned on her heel before she was tempted to believe.

  Chapter 3

  “He would, you know.” Lore stood in the doorway to the engine room, watching her.

  Jaide grunted and looked back at the forty pound rod she was preparing to cut. What did Lore know? “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know where Chrys is. He’ll just have to work to find him like anybody else.” She wished Sesame wasn’t off on the bridge, working on her calculations. She’d be a welcome distraction right now.

  “You would aid a criminal?”

  She cringed from the distaste in his tone. “That’s not it. We don’t talk, and I don’t follow the news.” She tossed down her scribe with a clatter. “I don’t want to know what he’s doing, and I sure as heck don’t want to know where he’s been. We’ve always got along best when we were ignoring each other.”

  “Except for when he’s stealing from you.
”

  She took a deep breath, then expelled it with a rush. Was he trying to bait her? “He’d have a rough time getting away with that again. I can promise some unpleasant surprises to anyone stupid enough to try it now.” Total system meltdown, for one. Hopefully at a most inopportune time. No one was flying any of her machines again without a release from her.

  Distracted, she swung the end of the steel around to mark the end. It rolled. She scrambled to stop it, but her hands slipped off the smooth metal as it crashed.

  “Yow! Oh my—” Jaide grabbed her knee as she rolled on the floor, swearing and trying not to cry. The solid bar had struck just above her knee before rolling off to crush her foot, just missing the steel clad toes. Her entire leg was one mass of throbbing pain. Hands touched her shoulder, maddening her jumping nerves. “Don’t touch me!” she shrieked. The offender snatched their hands away as if she were on fire, and she moaned in relief. She always hated to be touched right after an injury.

  “What happened?” Skye demanded, running into the room behind her with half the crew in tow.

  “The bar slipped,” Lore explained, even as Skye knelt to discover the damage.

  “Let me see,” he ordered, gently easing her onto her back.

  The pain had died to a bearable level, as long as he only touched her arm, but when he reached for the leg of her coveralls, she slapped at his hands, protecting the injury. “Don’t touch! It hurts.”

  Skye exchanged an exasperated look with Lore, hiding the fact his heart still raced. There had been no telling what they’d find when he’d ran in here, and his relief was as great as his concern. “A blow from a steel bar will do that,” he teased, trying to relax her. “I promise to be much nicer. Will you let me look?” He made no move towards her, simply remained in a crouch with his elbows on his knees, his hands loose and dangling. After a moment she bit her lip and nodded, turning her face away.

  Careful not to jar her any more than need be, he carefully unlaced her boot, then cupped her calf in one hand and eased it off. In spite of his care, she hissed in pain. The blood soaked sock he simply cut off.