“No, not only is the camera crap, their viewing system has got to be even older than me.” Deven glanced pointedly around the room and then nodded at the screen.
“I agree.” She smiled. Deven might be a telepath, but he also had very good unspoken communication skills. That was one of his vital characteristics for becoming her second-in-command. He had noted that there were no cameras in the viewing room. A copy of the file could be made without notice.
At her agreement, he pulled out his personal comm and linked it to the ancient viewer. All of her crew’s personal comms had a few of Gosta’s tricks added in. First and foremost, a high-tech data and image grabbing system. The section of vid-data they had been viewing could be copied in seconds.
As Deven finished his scan, she saw an image flash that she hadn’t seen before. “Wait, freeze that. Go back half a second, there.” Off to the far right of the view screen a tall thin being stood. Clearly not a human, but also not like any other species she knew. “What the hell is that?”
Deven palmed his comm device and peered at the image. The slight pause before he answered told her she’d have to question him later about it. “I’m not sure.” He clicked off the viewfinder and put the data chip back where it had been.
She glared at his back until he turned around.
He sighed. “I’ll tell you later. I don’t think it’s safe here.”
“Okay, for now.” She led the way out of the small viewing room and past the now asleep security clerk. “You’re damn lucky I really need a drink. However, after the bar? You’ll be covering that in detail.”
“Agreed.” Deven didn’t sound happy, but he nodded and let her lead the way to the bar.
Vas stayed lost in thought the entire way wondering who would create such a setup like that pub just for herself. However, if the people who did it weren’t the ones behind the drell or the trackers, what the heck were they up to? The more she thought about it, the more pissed she got. So she turned to direct some of that anger at another worthy target. Unfortunately, Deven seemed lost in thought as well. Most likely thinking of some good lies to cover whatever he saw on that vid. We’ll see about that.
Many of her crew were already in the Hidden Cup by the time Vas and Deven arrived. Judging by their boisterous welcomes, they’d probably been there since they’d left the ship.
They went to the bar and ordered shots. “I’d also like a round for those morons in the corner.” She pointed to her crew. Gosta arrived a few minutes later and joined Deven and Vas.
“Anything interesting?” She figured he hadn’t found much or he wouldn’t be here, but she asked to be polite.
Gosta’s eyes almost glowed. Something that only happened when he’d been at a heightened state of interest. Either he had found something or he had a new girlfriend.
“Actually, yes.” He shook his head to himself. “Not here. Better for when we’re back on the ship.” He patted his jacket, but didn’t go any further. “Any news with you?”
“That should probably wait until we get back—”
“Hey, isn’t that the Warrior Wench? By god, I heard she had come to port. Wonder if she’d like to conquer my bed?” A drunken voice cut her off. He was a big Syngerin, but where Gosta’s tall, skeletal frame looked like most of his race, this man seemed to have obtained an unnatural ability to go thick and wide.
“Looks like a Warrior Wench-type gal to me, don’t it boys?” A tall, dark-haired human who had walked in with him stared openly at Vas as he spoke.
She gritted her teeth for the first two taunts. Just wanted to be able to have a drink in the bar with my officers. Away from that damn ship and all the mysteries that were piling up. There would be no fights today.
“Wonder why she’s still wearing all of her clothes though. Don’t them wenches go naked?”
Even the first two jokesters shut up at the third’s remark.
Vas slowly turned to face the new man. A good foot taller than her and clearly of Ilerian and human heritage. A disgusting and she would have said impossible, combination. Reaching back, she grabbed her shot glass. One slug and the fire burned its way down. Keeping an eye on the tall idiot with the big mouth, who, of all things, still laughed at his attempt to be funny, she handed her most noticeable weapons to Deven. “I’ll be right back.” She quickly downed his shot as well. Most likely they’d get kicked out after this, so she’d drink what she could first.
With a yell that her sand-miner ancestors would have envied, she leapt for the tall man. His laugh turned to a choke as her fist pounded his face sideways. “I KNOW you weren’t calling me or my ship whores.” Another swing and the idiot went down. “Oh come on. Two punches?” She tapped him with her boot, ready to turn away when the dark-haired human finally realized what happened and jumped toward her.
She swung out of his strike zone. “You have to be kidding.” With one tight jab, she knocked the air out of the idiot. Then, she grabbed the back of his neck and jerked his head down as she brought her knee up, smashing his face. He crashed to the ground, out for the count next to his buddy. “Who taught you morons how to fight?”
“Me, bitch.” The voice boomed an instant before two steel bands encircled Vas’s upper body and lifted her off her feet. Fron stepped forward to help, but Deven held him back. Smart man.
Smiling at her second-in-command, she threw her head backwards as hard she could, stomping down at the same time into her attacker’s shin. The crunch of his nose and shin were in perfect harmony with the bellow of pain that followed.
“Bring it on, boys!” The drinking hadn’t been what she needed; it was this. Too much weird shit going on and not enough things to beat the crap out of. Luckily that thin cast Terel had slapped on her hand didn’t slow her down at all. In fact, it gave a bit of support to her fist. Maybe she’d have Terel see if there was a military application for it.
Apparently, her taunters had been with a big crew, or made a lot of new friends quickly. Or Vas having so much fun made others want to join in. Three more guys came up swinging and bellowing.
The jackass who she’d just smashed in the face had bent down holding his nose, which of course made the blood come out faster. But it didn’t stop him.
“Now you’re going to pay!” He staggered forward, still obviously hurting from her attack on his shins.
“If I have to pay for this much fun, I guess it’s worth it.” She blocked his lopsided swing and struck up and out with her foot. She got him squarely in the chest and the crowd gasped as his ribs cracked. She also hit him with enough momentum to send him back toward the bar. “Deven, pay the man.”
Deven downed a quick shot, then reached out and grabbed the man as he flung by. “Consider him paid.” One punch and the giant dropped like a lump of meal.
Vas nodded and smiled to her second. The idiot Deven had taken down probably would have kept fighting until he’d injured far more than a few ribs and a busted nose. Having Deven take him out insured he’d live for another day.
With a returning nod, Deven swung out at another friend of the original punsters.
Vas smiled and dodged another flying fist. What a wonderful day. The rest of her company had held back, but when Deven dove in they decided to join. Soon they had a nice melee going that fell out the doors and into the station halls.
She found herself fighting next to Deven.
“You know, there’s got to be a better way for you to relax,” he said as he kicked an opponent in the head. The giant Garthian blinked slowly, taking a few moments for the information about its unconscious status to travel from the brain in his head to the brain in his tail. He finally collapsed in on himself like a folded bit of metal.
“But this is so much more fun. Not to mention much cheaper than therapy.” Breaking away, she smashed a sneaky devil who was trying to creep up on Gosta with a chair.
“You have a mind doc on your ship. You’re already paying her,” he said.
“Your point is?” Laughing, she
ran forward, using two downed Floxians as a ramp to leap up and smack a Silantian attempting to pin Xsit.
The fight lasted another ten minutes mostly because the station security circled it a few times before attempting to force their way in. Vas sidled up next to Deven as she saw the cops finally building the courage to start subduing participants. Fortunately, none of her people were out in the station itself. All were smart enough to stay inside the pub and away from the doors.
“What say we go find another bar? This one is becoming a little crowded.”
Deven knocked out his opponent, wiping away a thin trail of blood from his cheek where an earlier Floxian had gotten a scratch in. “Aye, Captain.” He nodded toward the bar keep who was standing off to the side wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “Shall I?”
Vas sighed. She felt bad about destroying the barkeep’s place; she honestly didn’t think it would have grown this big. Obviously more folks than just her crew were feeling tension. “Yes, and give him a bit extra. Times are tough and more likely going to get tougher.” She always made it a point to pay for her messes, at least the ones that she or her crew were a major cause of. However, it wouldn’t do to have the fierce Captain Tor Dain worry about a civilian, so she usually sent Deven to go deal with them. He was subtle and quiet. The barkeeps came out okay, and her reputation stayed intact.
While Deven approached the stunned barkeeper, Vas glanced around to find her crew. All seemed to be mobile and most were nearby. But Xsit had now gotten a bit too close to the front door, “Gosta, go get Xsit for me, would you? I don’t think we want to leave out that door.”
Gosta came back almost dragging Xsit. She’d gotten her fighting face on and didn’t want to leave. Her long bright orange trailing feathers that usually hung against the back and sides of her neck were fully extended. She would have made a fierce picture if she hadn’t been currently cross-eyed.
“Let me stay, Captain! They keep insulting us!” Xsit bobbed and weaved which may have been helpful while fighting, but made things worse when Vas tried to subdue her. A drunk Xithinal was never fun to be around and often violently messy.
“Gosta, can you carry Xsit?”
“Not a problem. Shall we?” He scooped up the flailing Xsit, and then nodded to the barkeep.
The barkeeper motioned behind the bar where one of his waiters held open a side door. “Follow the corridor down and it’ll spit out on one of the small cross streets. Take the left turn and you’ll end up near the docks.”
Vas nodded and led the way out. Who needed therapy when there were bar fights?
Chapter Twelve
The barkeeper had been correct. A few twists and turns and they were on a small side corridor far from the melee and the Hidden Cup.
Vas turned to Gosta and the twitching Xsit in his arms. Vas didn’t envy her; Xithinals had a powerful metabolism, one that worked horribly with any sort of alcohol. Drying them out was akin to a major drug detox for most species. “Can you take her back to the ship? Terel should be back onboard by now. She’ll need to keep Xsit in lock-up for at least a day.”
He nodded. “Agreed. I’ll stay onboard.” His grin almost made her want to follow him. “I have some things I want to take care of before we leave.”
“Sounds fine by me.” She shrugged; she’d find out soon enough what he was up to. Unlike Deven, Gosta kept a secret about as well as Xsit held her booze. She listened to a message on her comm that had come in during the fight. “Mac and Jakiin think they might have a job for us lined up. We’ll be onboard after we see what they’ve gotten into now.” Flying with her crew this inebriated and worked up didn’t strike her as a good idea. However, neither did sitting in dock for half a day. “Can you take this lot with you? Tell Terel to give them an hour, then stims all around. I want everyone sober when we leave.”
Gosta adjusted the squirming Xsit as he turned. “Where are we going?”
Vas smiled. “Good question. One I’m sure I’ll have an answer for when I get onboard.”
He nodded and bellowed at the rest of the command crew to follow him.
Vas turned back to Deven. “Mac said he left the directions for this deal of a lifetime on your comm. Where are we going?”
He flipped open his comm as he walked ahead of her. “Supposedly right around the corner. He said to go—” Deven stopped speaking and walking as he rounded the corner.
Vas sped up to catch up with him but she let most of the swear words stay inside her head for now.
“Oh. Crap.”
Mac and Jakiin stood sheepishly in front of a pile of crates. The fact that no one else could be seen said that one way or another those crates were theirs.
“What did you two do now?” She resisted the urge to smack them, but she had to fight to keep her arm down.
“We found a great deal, but we had to agree to it before you could get back to us. They threatened to take it somewhere else—”
Vas held up her hand to cut off Jakiin’s babbling.
“Is this legitimate shipping? Should it be out here in the corridor?”
Mac threw a cover he’d been clutching over the crates. “It’s sensitive. It really shouldn’t be, um, exposed.” Luckily few people were in this part of the station.
“Damn it, Mac, you two took on a job without clearance? What the hell were you thinking?”
He squirmed and fiddled with the edge of the canvas. The crates weren’t big, but they were large enough to attract attention. “They’re paying me, us, I meant us, a lot of credits. They’d asked for me specifically, like they’d heard of me….” The flash of guilt in his blue eyes told her everything. He’d taken this job thinking it would be something small he could smuggle on. When the contact dropped a few hundred pounds of crates on him, he panicked and tried to make it a company job.
She pressed in close, not letting Mac move a bit. “What is my rule about private jobs?” Her voice stayed low, a feat in itself since she wanted to yell, scream, and beat the crap out of both of them. She maintained tight control over all of the jobs, smuggling or otherwise, that her company took on. Smuggling unknown items could be extremely dangerous, not to mention a potential trap. Unfortunately this mess was now hers since two of her crew had taken it on. She couldn’t afford to dump it unless she never wanted to smuggle again.
Jakiin tried to scoot out of the way, but Vas pinned him with a glare, then tilted her head back at her immediate quarry. “Well?”
The freckles on Mac’s face became much brighter as the skin around them faded. His Adam’s apple had a stability problem as he searched for the right words. “No jobs or bringing anything on ship unless it’s a job cleared by you.”
“I couldn’t hear you.” She barely whispered, making Mac lean forward to hear her. Smacking him in the back of his head when he did so, she then grabbed his collar to keep him close. “You two are going to find a way to get this product onto our ship without notice, and you are going to give me a full report of exactly what is in it. I want scans, printouts, full information on who gets it and where we are taking it. I don’t need to tell you,” she said then turned her glare to Jakiin who had begun to fade to the left, “that neither of you will be receiving your cuts. And if I ever find out you two are even thinking of pulling this kind of shit again, I will space you both. I don’t care if the president of the Commonwealth asks for you specifically.” She stared down both of their terrified looks until they nodded.
She turned to Deven who had been using his comm to scan the crates. “Anything?”
He glanced around to make sure the corridor was still empty. “Fabric of a sort. Can’t tell anything beyond that with this equipment. I’ll warn Gon he needs to get a decom chamber set up for the crates.”
Vas toyed with taking a chance and just leaving her pilots and their mess on the station. But she couldn’t take that hit to her reputation. “Deven, stay with them and make sure they get this crap safely onboard.”
At his nod, she turned and stomped back to t
he ship. On the plus side, at least they had a job. Because the fight on Lantaria should have taken a few months, she hadn’t scheduled anything.
Back on the Warrior Wench, Vas made it all the way to her ready room door before anyone tried to even talk to her.
Bathshea finally risked her wrath. “Captain? The station had a message to relay. It’s on a secure channel, so I forwarded it to your ready room.”
“Thanks, Bathie. You going to stay up here?” Vas palmed open her ready room door. Bathshea might be the chief engineer, but she loved mucking it up on the command deck as well.
“If you don’t mind.” The dark woman flashed a grin. “I figure I can cover for Xsit for a while.”
“That will work. Make sure Mac and Jakiin have their flight shifts covered by someone else. They’ll be busy for a while.”
Bathie nodded and went back to screening station traffic and comms.
Vas sighed as she shut the door behind her. Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes. After a few peaceful minutes, she re-opened them and glared at her desk. The flashing message sign ruined her mental escape attempt.
Secured messages were rare for her. Those being official dictates from the council or Commonwealth bureaucrats. When she received information that needed to be secured, it was usually information she had to secure against the council and Commonwealth.
It took a few minutes of digging around to recall her security code, then a few more to remember how to enter it correctly. Eventually the Commonwealth galaxy image appeared, rings of planets circling a large gas giant. Only a stationary picture though, someone like herself wouldn’t rank high enough for an image message. Clicking the play button, she sat back in her chair.
“Captain Tor Dain, this is in response to your recent message about the events on Lantaria. Rest assured the Commonwealth is aware of the situation and has it under control. You are encouraged to forget about the last engagement and go about your business. Thank you for your concern.”
Asarlai Wars 1: Warrior Wench Page 12