by Zen DiPietro
“To tell the truth, it’s messier than I’d like. These are non-PAC citizens, trafficking non-PAC people, on a non-PAC planet. So I can’t look to turn these slavers over to the PAC and be done with them. Turning them over to the local government seems inappropriate, since they’d no doubt be on the loose again in no time. And yet I don’t practice summary executions, either.”
“A definite drawback,” he agreed. He liked Ditnya’s dark humor.
“There are a hundred and four Atalan refugees below, and twelve slavers. I understand you have thirty-six people on your ship?”
Cabot nodded.
“My ship can carry that many. I can take the Atalans to Barthon IV, where they can truly get the fresh start they need.”
“That’s extremely generous of you.”
“Not at all. A hundred and forty people now owe me a life debt. That kind of thing can come in handy at some point. And since Atalus isn’t that far from the Barthon system, I can dump my final twelve passengers there before heading back home to Dauntless Station.”
Stranding the slavers on the war-wrecked, desert planet the refugees had been fleeing seemed oddly appropriate.
“A clever solution,” he said.
“Best I can do, without going to a great deal of trouble, which they’re not worth.” Ditnya shrugged.
“What can I do to help?” Cabot asked.
“Stay where you are. Let my people clean up. Your own people should arrive back to you soon.” She stared hard at him.
No doubt “cleaning up” included whatever information the slavers had. Ditnya would keep that for herself, and wouldn’t share it with him. He understood, and was in no position to argue.
“I’ll stay right here, then. And thank you again for your help.” He dipped his chin in a gesture of acknowledgement.
“I’ll collect on the favor, sooner or later,” she assured him. “I’ve gathered quite a number of useful ones here. Not too bad for a day’s work.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you, then.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure you will. Stay safe, Cabot. And keep an eye out for Omar. I’ll be mad if you get him killed.”
“Well, I don’t want that. I’ll endeavor to keep him alive, then.”
She smirked at him, then her image disappeared.
An hour later, a young man and woman arrived to escort the Outlaw’s guests through the docking station to Ditnya’s ship. Cabot hoped they would be in good comfort there. He expected they would—he’d gotten a peek at Ditnya’s ship once.
Issam left the ship last, and he paused at the airlock to grasp Cabot’s hands. “Thank you for helping them. They still think this is what was supposed to happen all along.”
“Will you tell them the truth?”
“Yes. Once they’re settled. They should know that, if not for the kindness of strangers, a much worse fate would have come to them. They’ll want to repay that kindness to others, when they’re able.”
Cabot nodded. “Your family will be joining you soon. Contact me if you have any difficulties in the future. Dragonfire Station is not so far from Barthon IV.”
Issam smiled, and Cabot was reminded of how ridiculously attractive his species was. Just like Nix and Arin. “Thank you.”
Then Cabot was alone on the ship.
With this wretched slaving business handled, he looked forward to getting everyone back on the Outlaw and completing their original mission. They’d already found Arcy, and since Peregrine would handle whatever business Avian Unit had with him, they were practically done already.
Once Peregrine had whatever she needed from Arcy, Cabot could go back to Dragonfire Station, where he belonged. He looked forward to enjoying a cup of tea on the boardwalk, watching visitors and citizens of the station go about normal, daily life, which did not involve backroom dealings, greasy skin and bad smells from cheap fuel and a subpar filtration system, and definitely not the exploitation of innocent people.
THE GROUP from the surface came up dirty and tired, but in good spirits. Peregrine, Romo, and Nagali immediately went to their quarters to clean up and rest, while Doony and Omar stopped in the mess hall first.
Though Cabot was eager for details of what had occurred, his friends were less than forthcoming. After several attempts to draw them into conversation, Omar spoke.
“I’ve seen worse, but it wasn’t fun. Everyone played their part and we got out okay because of it, but I’d rather leave the retelling to Peregrine. Debriefing is her kind of thing.” Omar’s face was lined with dirt, and his voice had a rasp of fatigue.
“Of course. I could brew some tea, if you like.” Cabot felt a tinge of guilt for putting his curiosity over their obvious fatigue.
Omar shook his head. “Nah. I’m off to hibernate for a while. If you hear a loud sound, don’t worry, that’s just me snoring.” He slapped Cabot on the back on his way out.
Even tired, Omar could give a backslap you remained aware of for a good two minutes.
“Sorry, Cabot,” Doony said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and dumping his trash into the recycler. “After I get some sleep, you can ask me anything you want. I know it must be frustrating.”
“It’s fine,” Cabot assured the old man as he made for the door. “Rest well.”
“I plan on it.”
Again, he was alone.
CABOT DISLIKED BEING at loose ends. There was little for him to do on the bridge. He’d already ensured that the mess hall was tidy, and he’d cleaned up the cargo bay, though the Atalans had mostly taken care of that themselves.
What to do?
He’d been reading a book about the history of Zerellus. He liked to brush up on such things, to have a broad base of knowledge about his customers. It helped him better understand them, and their needs, allowing him to better serve them.
Might as well get back to his book to pass the time, then. Except that it was in his quarters, and he doubted Nagali had taken the time to move out to her own quarters before collapsing into her bunk.
He tiptoed in. Nagali was a lump topped with dark hair in the top bunk. The infoboard that contained his book lay on his pillow. He’d intended to take it and leave, but he’d be most comfortable right here. Provided he wasn’t seized with a sudden need to sneeze or a coughing attack, he could stay quiet enough to avoid bothering Nagali.
Lying down, he activated the book. Zerellus had an interesting history. Not so different than many colony planets, but Cabot always found the minute differences between such places to be what mattered. The divergence of Zerellian humans from Terran ones, in both genetics and culture.
He’d begun reading about an interesting revolution in the early days of the colonization of Zerellus when Nagali’s face appeared above, upside down and looking down at him.
“Hello,” Her rough, deep voice was made even more so by her recent slumber.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. My sleep schedule is just messed up, is all. How are you?”
“Fine. But you were the one who saw the business end of things,” he pointed out. “Things were pretty sedate here.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Issam and the others. I take it they were happy to be moving on?”
He set his infoboard aside. “Yes. I’ve heard nothing about what happened to you, though. Care to fill me in?”
“Hang on.” Her face disappeared. He heard rustling, then she was climbing down from the top bunk.
Wearing a silky-looking nightgown, she motioned for him to make room. When he did, she sat, folding her legs at the knee and smoothing her nightgown over them. “What do you know so far?”
“Like I said. Nothing. Except that the refugees and slavers alike went with Ditnya.”
Nagali’s mouth pursed as if she’d eaten something sour. “I dislike that I owe her now. I wish it were anyone else.”
“I’d say we got very, very lucky, and should just accept that.”
Rather than argue,
she sighed. “I suppose. Anyway. When the rest of us arrived, Peregrine was in a standoff. She’d either taken out or captured half the slavers, but was stalemated. She couldn’t gain entry to free the Atalans, and the remaining slavers couldn’t get out. That was bad, because the only thing they had left to bargain with was the lives of the Atalans.”
She fell silent, and Cabot prompted, “And then?”
“Then the rest of us arrived. We covered the exits while Peregrine went inside to negotiate. Then Omar gave the signal and—I can’t tell you what everyone else did, but I was in charge of shooting anyone who wasn’t Atalan if they came out the south exit.”
“And did you?”
“Only one.” She sighed dramatically. “Both legs, to keep him from running.”
“One leg wasn’t enough?”
She shrugged. “I wanted to be sure.”
“What exactly did Peregrine and Omar do inside there to make everyone run?” Cabot asked.
“They were vague.” She shrugged. “I don’t think they care to talk about it. They were sweaty and agitated, but relatively uninjured, so I left it at that. Not everything is my business.”
“That’s news to me.” He gave her a skeptical squint.
She chuckled. “I can keep my mouth shut when I want to, believe it or not. I figured if we were in good shape, why press for details? We had more to do. Looking after the Atalans while keeping the slavers contained until Ditnya’s people arrived wasn’t fun.”
“Which job did you get?” he asked.
“I went back and forth, as needed. Mostly, I did what I was told.” She shrugged again, as if this were a normal thing.
“Who are you and where is Nagali Freeborn?” he asked, teasing.
Rather than laugh, she frowned at him. “You keep saying things like that. Have I really not proven myself to you yet?”
Uh oh. His sense of self-preservation kicked in. He was in tricky territory.
He said carefully, “You have to admit, I have reason not to trust you. And part of that reason is that I know how duplicitous you can be. How smart, and how cunning. It’s a compliment to your abilities, really, that I’m so suspicious of you.”
“Cut the crap,” she barked. “You don’t hate my company like you pretend to. Otherwise, why would you lie two meters below me, reading a book? Why bother talking to me, even? The others will be awake at some point in the next few hours. You could talk to them if they’re so much more reliable.”
She huffed out a breath and moved to stand.
Cabot put a hand on her arm. “Wait. That last dinner we were supposed to have, before we made it to Cerberon. You cancelled. Why?”
“I was tired.”
He hadn’t believed that then, and he believed it less now. “If you want me to believe you, then you need to be honest.”
She folded her hands in her lap and sat on the edge of the bunk, feet on the floor. “I wanted to give you a chance to miss me. And did you?”
“No.”
“Now who’s having trouble being honest?”
“I guess neither of us finds it easy to simply say what we know. Very well. I had expected to have dinner with you, and when that didn’t happen, I did not feel as relieved as I expected to.”
Her mouth tightened into a rueful smile. “I guess that’s close enough to saying you were disappointed.”
He was not prepared to cede that point. “I’ve spent the past eight years hating you for leaving me for dead. It’s not so easy to change that.”
“I explained to you about that. I didn’t expect things to happen that way, and I did think you would be okay. If I had it to do over, I wouldn’t make that mistake, but I really was trying to do something overall good. Just like what we did here with those refugees, and below on the planet.”
He hated to admit it, but she had a point. A good one. “It’s possible,” he said carefully, “that the situation is more complicated than I initially thought. I propose an accord.”
“Terms?” she asked.
“I will try to look at you more objectively, for the purpose of re-evaluating my opinion of you. And you will accept my wariness as it is, without getting angry at me for it.”
She frowned thoughtfully, drawing circles on the floor with her big toe. “That sounds reasonable. What about having dinner together?”
“Either of us can invite the other, and the other can refuse, for any reason, without any grudges or hard feelings.”
“Very diplomatic. I agree. Would you like to draw up a contract?” She stole a glance at him with humor in her eyes.
“I think we can work on a verbal agreement basis. If we have to make it more binding, then what’s the point, don’t you agree?”
“I do. I have another proposal.”
“I’m listening.” He wasn’t sure whether to be interested or worried. The conversation had gone so well up to this point. It would be a shame to ruin that.
“Since Doony and Romo will return to their own ships after they’ve rested, I propose you move out of here as soon as they’re gone.”
“Why shouldn’t you be the one to move?”
“I have more stuff to move. My hairbrushes and hand lotion and whatnot.”
He affected a grave expression. “Since I’m making an effort to be fair, I will agree.”
In truth, he didn’t mind moving. It was as simple as packing a single bag. “Although,” he added. “Why didn’t those two just go back to their ships to begin with? I could have already moved out by now.”
She shrugged. “I guess they wanted to be here for the meeting afterward. I sensed Peregrine and Arcy have more going on than we know about, and I’m sure they sensed it, too.”
“Do you have any ideas what might be going on?”
“None,” she declared. “But I saw some of what she’s capable of, and she’s way above the pay grade of any of us. And we’ve both heard things about Arcy. So it makes me nervous.”
“Nervous? Not excited?” Uneasiness settled over him.
“We’re not as young as we used to be. Especially you. But I’m not as reckless as I was, either. Whatever those two have cooked up between them, it’s no joyride.”
“I suspect you’re right. And, I have to say, I’m surprised you haven’t had anything negative to say about Peregrine. Suddenly, you’re talking like you respect her.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, which looked as silky-soft as he remembered. “I respect her skills.” She lifted her chin. “Even if she does look like a lumberjack. Although…Omar seems kind of serious about her. So don’t mention I called her a lumberjack.”
“She looks strong, healthy, and attractive to me. I think maybe you’re just overprotective of your brother. Maybe disrespecting her is a way for you to maintain your partiality to him.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t think you and I are reconciled enough for such a frank assessment of my character.” She huffed. “But in the interest of our new accord, I will consider the possibility that you’re correct.”
“Hm.”
“What?” she demanded, looking peeved.
“Nothing. I guess I’ll go ahead and pack up my things while we wait.”
“Good. When you’re done, you can keep me company while I eat.” She lay back on his bunk, closing her eyes.
“You could offer to help pack,” he pointed out.
“But you have so little, as we’ve already established. You’ll be done in two minutes even without me.”
“Fair enough.” As he packed, he got a glimpse of her lying on the bed, as if asleep. It reminded him of long ago, thinking she looked ironically angelic while she slept.
She still did.
OVER THE NEXT FOUR HOURS, the others woke and congregated in the mess hall. Omar and Peregrine were the last to arrive.
Everyone else sat while Peregrine paced the room, arms over her chest. She had the manner of a combat veteran dressing down her troops.
“First off, good work to all o
f you. Because of your help, we were able to rescue over a hundred people, and make sure those responsible can’t do the same thing to others. Doony, your assessment of their weapons was key, as was Arcy’s inside knowledge. Omar did an excellent job partnering with me, and Romo’s help keeping the Atalans calm helped tremendously. I was impressed by how professional Nagali was in infiltrating them to get us the intelligence we needed.”
Cabot’s gaze went to Nagali, who pretended not to notice. She’d played a larger part in the events than she’d claimed. It wasn’t like her to be modest. His immediate thought was that she must be manipulating him somehow, but he’d promised to try to view her more objectively, so he put aside that judgment. For now.
“We’re not done yet, though. Arcy knows who supplies these shipping containers full of people, and we intend to hunt them down while the intel is still fresh. That means we’re headed back to Cerberon. Doony and Romo, I understand if you two don’t want to get involved. What we dealt with below was small compared to what’s ahead of us now. We’ll be going up against major players in the flesh trade. I’ve sent an update to my people, but as you know, reinforcements can’t get here for weeks. So it’s up to us to squash these bugs before they go underground again.”
Peregrine’s eyes went from Nagali to Omar, then rested on Cabot. “This isn’t what you three signed on for, either. If you want out, I’ll arrange that.”
“Not me,” Omar spoke up immediately. “I’m in.”
Cabot looked to Nagali. She rolled a careless shoulder. “If Omar’s going, I’m going.”
Then everyone was looking at Cabot. He saw no expectation or judgment from anyone. Neither of those would have influenced him, anyway.
He lived in uncertain times. The Barony Coalition’s greed and selfishness were gradually dismantling this sector of space. Not that it hadn’t had its problems already, but at least most people had been trying to find solutions. Everyone’s combined reality now seemed to be a slow freefall toward darker times. Times that most people had thought long past.
He was just a trader, but here was an opportunity to unwind a little of the chaos. He wasn’t like Peregrine and her team. People like him weren’t the kind who made a difference. Usually.