Nodding, Aaron climbed down from the skiff’s seat. “I have eighty-five more to bring you, but I can only move fifteen at a time.”
“I understand,” Ibet-ak said. “Please show me how to open them.”
The humans and Isheks quickly moved the crates of food from the nearest pallet, and Aaron showed Ibet-ak the trick to removing the pallet cover. The Isheks gasped when they saw the collection of firearms inside the hollow pallet.
“I believe,” Aaron said slowly, “that you are supposed to have something for me as well.”
Ibet-ak nodded, his eyes never leaving the guns. He called out something in that weird language of theirs and five more Isheks entered. One of them carried an empty basket, while the other four carried a basket that was so overloaded it might burst its seams at any moment.
The four set their heavy burden down and began removing the guns from the pallet and placing them into the empty basket. Then they opened up the nearly bursting basket and began placing small rocks into the now empty pallet. After several moments it was full and they stepped back.
Aaron knelt down beside the pallet and ran a scanner over the rocks. The rocks were a low-grade emethium ore. Emethium was used in the manufacture of spaceships and was one of the most expensive ores known to man. Granted, these rocks were an extremely poor grade of emethium, but once melted down, they should still be worth ten or twenty times as much as the guns.
Cursing under his breath, Aaron decided he would have to have a talk with their employer, Benjamin Dunn. Dunn ran a smuggling operation off Pocal III. This was the first job Aaron had worked for Dunn, and it might very well be his last. The Isheks were being oppressed and might very well be about to start fighting for their lives, and Dunn was robbing them blind.
“Is it all right?” Ibet-ak asked. He seemed nervous, possibly because of Aaron’s silence.
Smiling, Aaron climbed to his feet. “Fine. Everything’s fine.”
Ibet-ak relaxed. “You will bring the rest now?”
Aaron glanced outside at the sky before he answered. “We’ll bring another fifteen pallets tonight, but the rest will have to wait until tomorrow.”
Chapter 2
The next day dawned sunny but cool. Despite her normal routine, Yvette Smythe, or Eve as the crew called her, didn’t wake until noon. There were two reasons for this. First, planetary time was several hours ahead of ship’s time. Secondly, they spent almost the whole night repacking and stacking the crates back on the pallets.
She climbed from her bed and stretched; every muscle in her body ached. She was fifty-eight now and sixty was just around the corner. Her body ached more than it used to and she hated getting older.
Her face was still smooth, but that was because of various medical procedures that her son’s money had paid for. There wouldn’t be any more of those in her future. The lines around her eyes and on her neck betrayed her true age, as did the gray in her brown hair.
After a moment, she pushed a button and the small bed rose up to rest vertically beside the cabin’s wall.
Her cabin wasn’t much. It was barely ten feet square with one chair in the corner and a fold-down shelf that was supposed to function as a table. On the far side of the room a door led to her closet. Beside the closet door, ten shelves were built into the wall. Next to the shelves there was another door, which led to a shared bathroom. There was one shared bathroom for every two crew-cabins. That was it—her whole world now. She hadn’t shared a bathroom since she was a kid; funny how things changed so quickly.
It hadn’t always been like this. She had been born into a poor working family. Her parents had operated a small transport ship and she had learned the art of negotiation from them. When she was nineteen, she had married a young merchant on a world in the Miram Union. Her first-born son was named Patrick.
Patrick had never been as hardworking as his mother and had chosen an easier path in life and had become a criminal. Perhaps some of his mother’s ambition did rub off on the boy, because he wasn’t happy just being a two-bit criminal; he had been determined to lead the criminal organization. And he had gotten his wish nearly five years ago. A widow now, Eve had spent the last five years living in the luxury provided by her son until the Unionist police came for him. It was not something they had expected. Patrick had been careful to keep the right people in his pocket through either bribes or blackmail. He left nothing to chance, or so he thought. The police had come for him anyway, perhaps as Eve suspected, because one of Patrick’s own men had paid them more. Whatever the reason, Patrick had died that night and she had been arrested.
The Miram Union was not known for its compassionate treatment of its prisoners. Because of who she was and, more importantly, what she might know, Eve was put on a transport ship bound for Upsellata VI. The high-security prison on Upsellata VI was used for special prisoners—political prisoners, spies, and even the violently psychotic. The Unionists had ways of extracting every last piece of valuable information. It was fortunate for her the transport ship had never reached Upsellata. Instead, she and nearly forty other prisoners had been busted out and the transport had been destroyed.
As always, thinking of the transport ship made her wonder again why Aaron’s group had been hired to attack the transport. She could only think of one reason: somebody didn’t want the prisoners reaching the prison planet. Either that prisoner was one of the nearly forty that Aaron had broken out, or he was one of those that died when the ship exploded, but that seemed rather unlikely.
Regardless of why she had been set free, here she was. She had volunteered to join Aaron’s ship in a steward’s position. She was the primary cook, she did the laundry and restocked supplies, among other things. It wasn’t the greatest of jobs, but she was pleased to just be alive and free. It certainly was a change from her life before she was arrested, though.
Despite her high expectations, her first attempt at blending in with the crew had not gone so well. The first meals she had cooked had been mediocre at best. It had been a really long time since she had cooked for herself. Most of the crew just ate the food without complaining, but not that damn Eric. Oh, she was beginning to hate that terrible man. He took every opportunity to point out her shortcomings. She had been delighted that, after a little practice, her cooking skills had returned. Even that foul-mouthed Eric had quit harping on the food.
She sighed and stretched again. She wanted nothing more than to lie back down and go back to sleep, but she couldn’t. One of her duties as ship’s steward was to restock the larder as needed. Their stores were not that low, but as money was tight they were stocked with the cheaper canned and pre-packaged foods; she was hoping to get something a bit fresher.
Most spaceports had a small marketplace. The locals could buy and sell goods without having to worry about import and export taxes. Usually, some of the locals had fresh fruit and vegetables for sale. She hoped it was the same here.
She was still stretching when the buzzer sounded at her door. Suppressing a sigh, she called out, “Come.”
She wore only the oversized sleeping shirt, but she didn’t much care. Most of the crew were a good deal younger than her, and she doubted they would find her very appealing. And if some of them did find her attractive . . . well, she was still young enough to enjoy it.
The door opened and Molly Jordan entered.
Eve smiled at the sight of the young girl; she just couldn’t help it. There was something about Molly. The girl was only sixteen, another prisoner freed by Aaron’s group. Molly’s crime had been innocent enough. She had posted anti-government messages, not something the Miram Union took kindly to. The Unionists had arrested the girl and killed her family.
Despite the unbelievably tragic turn that Molly’s life had taken, she was still the most energetic and friendly person Eve had ever met. The two of them had become close quickly and it wasn’t hard to imagine why: Eve had lost her son, and Molly had lost her parents. The two of them desperately needed family and they ha
d latched onto each other.
“Morning, Eve,” Molly said with a grin. her long, red hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“Good morning yourself,” Eve replied, returning the smile. There was something about Molly’s smile that was infectious. “Anyone mad about the lack of breakfast?” she asked.
“No,” Molly said with a shake of her head. “Before I went to bed, I made a tray of sandwiches.”
“Good thinking,” Eve said. Technically, it was her responsibility to provide the meals and she should have thought of putting something together before turning in last night, but she had just been too tired to think straight. “Who’s all here?”
Molly shrugged. “Jessica’s in the med bay and Grady’s in his cabin.”
Molly’s smile faltered a bit at the mention of Grady. Grady was an alien. Massive and hulking, his reptilian skin and long claws still frightened the girl. Honestly, Grady probably still frightened everyone on the ship. It was his looks alone that were scary; he hadn’t given anyone the first reason to fear him.
“What are your plans for today?” Molly asked.
Eve took a deep breath. “First, I’m going to get dressed. Then I thought I might see if the port has a marketplace. See if I can scare up some fresh fruit.”
“Really?” Molly asked, her face alive with interest. “Can I come?”
“Certainly,” Eve replied, happy with the company. “Why don’t you grab me one of those sandwiches while I get dressed?”
Eve was dressed ten minutes later, munching on a sandwich, as she and Molly exited the ship. There was a crew exit they could have taken in the front half of the ship, but Eve was interested to see how many of the crates remained.
Sticking her head into the cargo area, Eve was impressed. Aaron and the others had managed to move thirty pallets last night, and another forty-five were already gone. “They’re making good time,” she said, more thinking out loud than making conversation.
“Yep,” Molly agreed, “two more trips should do it.”
Eve looked back around to the right side of the hold and saw the empty pallets stacked up and tied down. She nodded her head in satisfaction. Aaron ran an organized ship. That organization and sense of purpose made her think of the military and that seemed a very probable idea. It was easy enough to picture Aaron, Susan, Russell, Jessica, and Adam as military. Of the bunch, Adam fit her military idea the least.
“Come on,” Molly urged. “Let’s get out of here before they come back and demand lunch.”
Eve led the girl on into the cargo hold. The ramp was down, letting in fresh air and a cool breeze.
Terry Magnus sat in a chair at the top of the ramp fiddling with a piece of machinery. Terry was the ship’s engineer, another of the freed prisoners. Eve genuinely liked the man. He was tall and had long, curly-blond hair. Despite his size, he was not intimidating; he was a very quiet man except when it came to the ship. He could be a bit boisterous when it came to discussing ship repairs and modifications.
Terry smiled at them. “Aaron and the others just left. They’ll probably be gone for an hour or so.” His voice was deep and soothing.
Eve motioned to the dwindling number of pallets. “Making good time.”
Terry nodded. “Got a deadline and Aaron doesn’t want to be late. Plus we’re supposed to take off tomorrow, early afternoon.”
Eve nodded and began down the ramp. “We’re going shopping. We won’t be gone long.”
“Stay in the port,” Terry called after them. “You don’t want trouble with the locals.”
Eve led Molly through the spaceport to the main exit. They really didn’t leave the port; instead, she just stuck her head out the gates and looked around. It took only a moment to realize there weren’t any markets outside the port walls.
Stepping back into the port proper, Eve paused and looked both directions up and down the street. Bars and brothels were located close to the exit; every spaceport seemed to have them, and these seemed to be doing a good business.
On farther up to the north, past the bars, were the mechanics and refitting shops. Eve snorted in disgust and looked to the south. It was better that way, but not much. To the south, just past the bars, was a long line of spacer outfitters. The outfitters were the general store of the spaceport. They tended to have just about everything a spacer would need in the deep dark of space, from clothing, to spare parts for ships, to every type of distraction. Probably the only thing not available on this repressive planet would be weapons.
“Where’s the market?” Molly asked.
“There’s not one,” Eve answered, “but let’s take a look at those outfitter shops.”
The shops nearest to the exit would undoubtedly be overpriced, and Eve didn’t even slow down as she walked past. Eventually, the crowds began to thin, and she started checking out the stores with more enthusiasm. They spent an hour or two visiting a variety of shops, but they didn’t find anything that they needed or that was at a great price.
The very last store on the road appeared deserted and, for a moment, Eve thought it was closed. Upon closer inspection, the shop was just doing very poor business.
She grinned and glanced over at Molly. “Let’s try here.”
“But why?” Molly asked. She wore a slightly disgusted look. “This place is rundown and they don’t even have anything in the window.”
Eve put her arm around the girl. “Exactly,” she said with a grin. “If there is anything for sale at a bargain price on this rock of a planet, it’ll be here.”
Molly looked less than convinced, but she let the older woman steer her toward the front door.
They stepped into an old outfitter shop that was greatly in need of repairs. On either side of the entrance were some of the better items the shop offered; antiquated robots and ancient mechanics tools were lined up as if they were the latest thing.
Off to their left were long racks of clothes, most of them secondhand. Humans were far and away the most common species in the galaxy, and it was no surprise that most of the garments were meant for humans. On past the clothes were exercise equipment, vids of all types, and general ship stores. Eve’s eyes glinted at the sight of all the foodstuffs for sale. Perhaps she might get a deal here after all.
To their right were more antique robots, mechanics’ tools, spare parts, and several transports.
The building was completely empty, or so Eve thought. After just a moment a voice called out, “May I help you?”
It took Eve a moment to locate the speaker, but then she noticed the Ishek behind the counter. It was hard for her human eyes to tell, but she thought he was old; the graying of the feathers was her best clue to his age.
Eve blinked in surprise; the last thing she had expected was an Ishek running an outfitter shop. The elatori were oppressing the native Ishek population and did not allow the Ishek to travel off-world. Eve found it surprising that the elatori allowed an Ishek to work at the spaceport.
Her surprise must have been evident, because the Ishek smiled and said, “Didn’t expect one of my species, did you?”
Eve smiled and bowed her head. “Forgive me, but I did not expect an Ishek in the spaceport. I thought the elatori would be too paranoid to let you inside the wall.” It may not have been politically correct, but it was the truth. The elatori were determined to keep its citizens on the planet. It seemed unusual that they had allowed an Ishek to work at the port.
The Ishek bowed his head. “I have family here, and even the elatori know I will not leave them.”
Eve nodded, understanding the sentiment perfectly. She bit her lip, afraid to ask the question that threatened to bubble up from within her. As it turned out, the Ishek was better at reading humans than she’d thought.
“What is it?” he asked. “What is it that you are trying not to say?”
So much for being diplomatic, Eve thought. “I was just wondering why you didn’t leave, you know, before it got this bad.”
The Ishek was silen
t for a moment, and she was afraid she had offended him.
“Do you think I foresaw these happenings and did not act?” he asked, his feathers appearing to stand up on end. “If, for one moment, I had suspected things would have turned out the way they have, then I would have taken my family and fled. As it was, I owned this shop. I inherited it and thought I could see the bad times through.”
Eve spread her hands in what she hoped was a placating manner. “Forgive me. I meant no offense.”
The Ishek nodded, and his feathers lay back down along his body. “I did not see the danger until it was too late, and now I cannot leave.”
Eve hesitated, then said, “But why not? Surely you can find passage on one of the ships in port?”
“I could,” the Ishek agreed, “but I will not leave without my family.” He sighed and said in a slower voice, “Besides, none of the transports would take us, as it would endanger their landing privileges.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Eve, and she spoke without thinking it through. “What if I know of a ship that is only coming here once, a ship that could smuggle you off-world?”
The Ishek regarded her in silence for several moments, then looked toward the front door. “Is this a trick?” he demanded, “another way for the elatori to put me out of business?”
Eve blinked in surprise and took an involuntary step backward. “I’m sorry, but it’s not a trick at all.”
Molly also took a step backwards; her eyes were wide and she looked back and forth from Eve to the Ishek.
The Ishek was breathing fast now and his eyes had gone a bit wild. “I already told you that I would not leave my family.”
Eve nodded. “And if I said there would be room for them as well?”
The Ishek looked around again, and then he took on a defeated persona. “It does not matter. I cannot pay for my own passage, much less the passage of my family.”
Eve smiled, feeling that for the first time she was about to make a positive impact on the ship and its crew. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, “I think we can come to an arrangement.”
Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two Page 2