"The fuck you will." Mohawk looked offended. "You're not going anywhere without me." Wynne beamed at his support until he added, "Fucking fool idea that it is."
"It isn't a fool idea." She looked up at Tor. "If you can steal a ship as big as the Sky Hawk, surely you can steal ten medium size women."
"We don't have to enter the city to retrieve the Sky Hawk. We enter the port and dock. While Posy presents the credentials, Ish and I find the Sky Hawk. She'll have a new name and registry, but I'll know her when I see her. That's it. Simple and easy."
"How is Posy going to present the creds?" Ish asked more fiercely than the question warranted. "He's not a Cargo Vessel Captain."
"He is now." Tor's grin never quite blossomed. He spread his hands and made his excuses. "He was there, Ish. Work like that takes time, and there were other factors to consider. Don't blame me." He pointed at Wynne and grinned. "Blame her. She's the one who insisted you go with her."
"Because Truca and I couldn't trust you not to dump us off." Wynne objected. Whatever this was, she wasn't taking the blame. "I don't even know what these creds are."
Ish hissed her answer between clenched teeth. "Proof the ship is duly registered with the Galactic Confederation, and Posy's her licensed captain." Her eyes flared with yellow fluorescence. "A license that was supposed to be mine whenever Tor got the money to pay for it."
Tor took a step back and raised his hands to keep a distance between them. "A good forgery is expensive, Ish."
"I know. I also know how many credits we hauled from the Devil's Den and how many shares were mine."
Ish stepped forward and Tor stepped back. He didn't look frightened so much as worried. If Ish didn't look so angry, it might have been funny.
"They're still yours, Ish. We didn't spend a single credit of your shares."
Wynne stepped between them, facing Tor. "Then how did you buy a ship and those papers? Surely that ship cost something and the way Truca described it, it needs work. That costs money, too."
"We made a deal." He didn't look at her, but over her shoulder at Ish.
Wynne had seen that look before in the eyes of the children when they'd broken the rules and knew they'd get in trouble for it. The message it sent said, "Let it go before Wynne figures it out."
She reacted the same way she did with her kids. She put one hand on her hip, lightly tapped his chest to get his attention, and used the same two fingers to point to her eyes.
"Eyes right here, mister. What did you do?"
His reaction wasn't the same as the kids'. He laughed at her. "What I had to do."
He stared down at her as she knew he would and she stared right back. She'd lost, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy. "Tell me or I will haunt you unto Kingdom come."
The staredown was a tie, but only because Tor laughed and kissed her.
"We snatched a couple of pips and held them for ransom," he confessed in such an offhand way, Mira thought he was joking.
"You did not." If he wasn't going to tell her the truth, he surely could find a better tall tale than that.
"Whose children?" Ish asked in perfect seriousness.
Another look she recognized from the children passed over Wynne's shoulder. It was the 'Don't tell Wynne' look. She stepped away from Tor, smile gone.
"You bastard! You used Mira's tell-them-the-truth-they'll-never-believe-it ploy and I fell for it. You kidnapped small children," she accused. "How could you?"
"Not that small," he argued, "and they were playing right there in the boneyard. I didn't have a choice."
"No choice? How about choosing not to terrify small children."
"Whose children?" Ish asked again.
"Beso and Till's. Beso was there when we arrived. They were sharing a bottle and their pips were playing outside. I tried to bargain. I even offered the Sky Hawk as collateral, but they weren't buying it. They tried to jack me up. Apparently I'm not only wanted, but I have a price on my head." He paused to give Wynne a significant look. "Offered by the House of Kronak."
That was Roark's family. Though he didn't make a big deal of it, his family was a wealthy and powerful one.
"Kidnapping," she reminded, rolling her hand to move things along.
Mohawk snickered. "Pain in the ass, isn't she?"
"Mohawk, we're talking children here. You love children."
Tor chin lifted his agreement to Mohawk. "You wouldn't think it to look at her, would you," he said before turning back to Wynne. "It was all very civilized. After a short period of heated negotiation, we came to an agreement."
"You beat them up and kidnapped their children."
"Heated negotiation." Mohawk nodded in appreciation. "I like it."
"Mohawk!"
The Perithian rolled his eyes as if she was the one who didn't get it.
"I did the negotiating. It was Posy who did the kidnapping," Tor said as if it was all the blue giant's fault, "and is it really kidnapping if they chose to play inside the ship with the hatch closed and secured?"
"Yes!" Wynne shouted in counterpoint to Ish's more reasonable, "Doesn't sound like it."
"This isn't funny. You can't kidnap children. There had to be another way."
"Sorry," Tor told her though he didn't sound like it. "It was an on the spot decision and all I could think of while being shot at and stabbed." He pointed to his arm where there was a small tear in the sleeve fringed with blood.
"That's not a stab wound. It's a scratch." She paced across the room, turned, and threw her hands in the air. "Kidnapping? Really?" She smacked her forehead with her palm. "Why am I worried about proving your innocence when you just keep committing more crimes?"
"Next time I'll remember to move slower so I have better proof." Tor spoke while casually inspecting the small wound on his arm. "And it's only a crime if it gets reported, which it won't. I warned you I was no innocent. I told you I'd do whatever needed to be done. We need that ship and those papers. Till had vidpics of me and my crew. If he has them, every space station and port in the galaxy has them and with the House of Kronak's credits hanging over our heads, every bounty hunter in the galaxy is focused on us. Posy is the only one who can pass without notice."
The man was almost seven feet tall with dark blue skin. His honeyed voice alone would draw attention. "Why?"
"Because all Baskers look alike."
Wynne couldn't believe what she was hearing. The man had some strange opinions, but that kind of prejudice wasn't among them. Or so she thought. "Mohawk! How can you say that? How would you like it if someone said all Perithians looked alike?"
"I wouldn't, because we don't. Baskers do."
"It's true," Ish agreed. "They all look alike. That's one of the things that make them so good at what they do."
"What, exactly, do they do?"
"Executions and assassinations." The woman said it as casually as if the Baskers sold hats and gloves. "Since the Confederation outlawed executions, they mostly stick to assassination." She laughed. "It's hard to say who did it when you have three hundred suspects who all look alike."
Good Lord. Posy was a cold blooded killer from a long line of them. She couldn't put that together with the sweet and funny man who'd been so kind to her and cared so much for Truca.
"You're ruining my concept of an enlightened alien civilization," Wynne muttered.
"Never heard of it," Mohawk grumbled. "What system is it in?"
"Posy won't hurt those pips," Ish assured her. "Not without paying half the fee up front." Hers eyes widened and her hand went to her chest in a dramatic gesture of sudden comprehension. "Is that how he got those papers? And you didn't ask me if I'd do it for less?" She looked furious.
Who were these people?
Ish started to laugh when Wynne looked to Tor with horrified eyes.
Tor didn't laugh, but he may as well have. "Posy hasn't worked for his tribe in ten years. He loves children and to my knowledge, he's never killed one. The Baskers have rules too, you know
. Pips are drawn to the big blue man. They're probably safer with him than they are with their fathers. He only picked them up to get them away from the heated negotiations. Don't mention that to Beso and Till, though. We need to keep them right where they are."
"How could you be so cruel to those poor men?" Wynne objected and made a sour face at Ish when the woman laughed again.
"Don't judge until you've met Beso and Till." Ish closed the lid on her hiding place. "Kitchen and bedroom next, and then I'm signing off for a few hours. Wake me when you're ready to leave."
"I'll take the bedroom," Mohawk offered.
"The hell you will," Ish snarled. "You just want the bed, and Alamandria already promised it to me."
"So we'll share."
"In your dreams, old man."
"In yours. You haven't seen what this old man can do." Mohawk taunted as he followed Ish out. "Might put a smile on your face."
"Only to laugh at your snoring."
"That's not snoring. That's me charging up for a good time."
"I'd better go with them." Wynne said, though it was the last thing she wanted to do. She wasn't feeling kindly toward either of them at the moment. She turned to follow, but Tor claimed her hand and pulled her back.
"Alamandria will stand between them. Or suggest a threesome." At Wynne's frown, he changed direction. "Where's your sense of humor?"
"I don't have one when it comes to threesomes or kidnapping children."
"So noted."
"It better be."
"I promise you those pips are safe, Wynne." He said it with gentle sincerity, but the mischief in his eyes ruined the effect. "They're with Posy, but only because Beso and Till were drinking away their sorrows and there was no one to look out for the pips."
"Then why lie?"
Eyes still dancing, Tor tried hard not to laugh and failed. "Because the look on your face was priceless. You're so quick to believe the worst of us, Kushma."
"Because you haven't given me much to work with and you use my ignorance against me." She shook her head, searching for indignation, but relief thwarted her attempt. "Were you the reason for their sorrows or the provider of the drink?"
Tor gave her a smug grin. "Is it my fault they haven't learned to beware of my gambler's luck?"
"Your gambler's luck?" She harrumphed her opinion of that. "You cheated. That's not luck."
He didn't deny it. "The luck is in not getting caught." Tor captured her waist and pulled her to him. He deepened his voice to a sexy rumble. "And you're not nearly as annoyed as you pretend. Don't ever try to bluff at cards, Wynne. Everything you think is reflected in your eyes."
"Everything I feel, not everything I think."
Tor leaned in until his mouth was inches from hers. "And what are you thinking now, pretty Wynne."
"I don't know who you are," she whispered, knowing that the words were inadequate.
"Use the head before you use the heart," Nona used to tell her. "The heart has no sense."
Wynne's certainly didn't. The man had only to look at her and she melted under his gaze. She loved him and it happened before her head had a chance to catch up.
Chapter 22
"I thought I'd made that clear. I'm Tor, Captain of the Cargo Vessel, Sky Hawk, first son of Mikelotny of the House of Cliff with no homeworld to claim."
It was the same introduction all Godan used; name, occupation, father's name, House in place of a last name, and homeworld or in Tor's case, a lack of one. Curiosity made Wynne question another difference.
"First son? Roark says he's a free son. Is there a difference?" Wynne didn't mean to sound doubtful, but Tor must have heard it that way.
"Still questioning, Wynne? A first son inherits his father's holdings. For me, that was a four room house, a large poultry pen, and a shed filled with useless trade goods. Not much, but it was home, and it would have been mine someday."
"We didn't have much more, and it was taken from me, too. I wasn't doubting you. I only want to understand." Just as she wanted to understand his animosity toward the Godan. "What happened to Freedom Farm, Tor?"
"Progress. We grew a genetically altered grain that when properly milled could provide the full complement of protein and other nutrients to soldiers in the field." His smile was a sad one. "That's a lesson we heard so often I could repeat it in my sleep. Our grain also 'provided an easily transported form of sustenance for new colonies and victims of natural disasters.'" he quoted.
"Oh my God, you grew glop." She'd never thought about where the gluey substance came from or how it was made.
"We grew the grain and milled it. It's not glop until you add water." Realizing how defensive he sounded, Tor shrugged uncomfortably. "Planetoid 273694 was terraformed for the purpose. The growing conditions were perfect. Freedom Farm Cooperative won the bid to cultivate it with the agreement to pay off the purchase price over time. All the profits went to build the factory to mill and package it. The original plan was to cut off military sales once the colony was debt free. They were getting close to owning it outright when someone decided it would be a good idea to build a Godan military supply base there. The remainder of the debt would be forgiven in exchange for the land to build the base.
"My parents were against it. They were afraid it would change their simple way of life. Others said it would bring prosperity. What it did was bring our nothing little planetoid to the attention of the Hahnshin. It's the first rule of war. Cut off your enemy's supplies."
The Hahnshin would see no difference between soldiers and civilians.
"I'm sorry." Wynne worked her hand into his and squeezed to convey her sympathy. "I know that doesn't help, but I am. Was that why you became a smuggler? Revenge?"
He squeezed her hand in return. "A noble cause? Not me, Kushma. I'm in it for the credits. A lot of traders won't serve the outer reaches of the galaxy. There's more gain to be had in short hops with a full load. I found a pocket in the market and filled it. A lot of the goods I carry are so heavily taxed no one out there could afford them after paying the expense of shipping, so I find ways around it. That's where Beso comes in. He forges my manifests. I do a pretty good business in the illegal weapons trade, too. Mostly small arms. It's very easy for the people in power to decide what kinds of weaponry others should be allowed when they live next door to peacekeepers and have never seen a pirate raid. Those colonists need those weapons to survive. I'm just a conduit, a paid conduit, a smuggler."
"Do people really buy that line of bull?" She didn't bother keeping the smile from her voice. "You're a fake, Tor, Captain of the Cargo Vessel, Sky Hawk, first son of Mikelotny of the House of Cliff. You don't ship goods to the outer reaches to make your fortune. If there was that much money in it, you wouldn't always be broke. If it was all about the credits, you'd work for Honarie and Orax, but you don't. You work for people like your parents, good people who don't want to depend on anyone but themselves. Those places are like Freedom Farm, aren't they?"
Wynne felt so relieved, she wanted to dance.
Tor tried to deny it. "Those places have nothing to do with it. I told you I do whatever it takes to pay for the Sky Hawk and its crew."
His crew of people who lived their lives against the grain of their cultures' expectations: Posy, a trained assassin who objected to killing; Ish, who couldn't abide by her culture's marriage traditions without sacrificing the lives of her suitors; and Truca, a mechanical wizard, who without the protection of the Sky Hawk's crew, was doomed to marry a boring prayer spitter.
Wynne wondered what stories were behind Cubo and Nix, and the two crew members they'd lost. All of them had a loyalty to Tor that went beyond a paycheck.
"They're much more than your crew, Tor. It's okay to admit it." She kissed the tip of her finger and pressed it to his lips. "I understand. I have a family, too."
A family who needed her as much as Tor's crew needed him.
~*~
Tor looked out over the rooftops of Celos. The setting of the sun
had not yet reduced the accumulated heat of the day. That would change as the dark hours passed and the night breezes arose. For now, the canopy above his head and the long fringe that hung from it were still. The voices from the streets below formed a muted hum punctuated by the occasional laugh or cry. Soft lights blinked on and off again from the windows as people returned home from their shops where they settled in for the night or headed out again. For Celos, this was a quiet neighborhood.
In the distance, he could see the brighter lights of the city center fanning out overhead like a dome. He was too far away to hear the raucous noise made by hundreds of musicians playing as loudly as they could from the different venues where they performed. He was too far away to see the ale houses, eateries, and sex halls that catered to every appetite and taste.
At one point in his life, Tor would have been down under that dome of light satisfying his appetites, too. He'd given most of it up when Truca joined the crew and was surprised when he didn't miss it. The drinking, gambling, women, and even the occasional brawl were just fillers for the empty space between one voyage and the next. He was just as lonely one way as the other.
How ironic that he should recognize that void and find the one who could fill it now that it was too late.
He turned, hand going to the weapon at his hip when the door opened.
"Tor?" a familiar voice called softly.
He hung his head over the sleeping platform to call down to Wynne. "Up here. Watch your head." He lowered the ladder so she could climb up.
She smiled when her head popped up over the edge. "Mohawk said you were up here keeping watch. If he'd known you had a bed, he would have been up here with you."
"Which is why I didn't tell him." He offered her his hand and pulled her up beside him. He drew the ladder up after her.
Tor (Women of Earth Book 2) Page 21