Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

  Something was wrong. Shamon glanced at Heddam, to find his friend frowning. Simon stood not far off, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “The little smuggler seems to be having some trouble.” Simon rubbed his jaw.

  “I’ll see her after.” Shamon didn’t want to wait, but he was no fool. “She won’t like me trying to get information from her. I’ll have to wait a bit.”

  “When did you get so wise?” Heddam asked.

  “I happen to know the right way to handle the wench.”

  Heddam snorted.

  Shamon spent the rest of the morning helping with the normal trade chores- loading cargo, cleaning the ship, maintenance, ensuring everything was ready to leave in the next couple of days. He took an inventory of the stores and headed into the settlement with Torkra and Mikal to get more food for the trip.

  Coming back from the store, while passing the Enforcement Building, he caught sight of the wanted images and came to a sudden halt.

  Torkra, who’d been ambling along behind him with his gaze on a pretty, blushing wench, walked straight into the back of him. “What the hell—”

  Ignoring him, Shamon stared at the image poster. Wanted dead or alive for murder. It was Emet.

  Bloody hell, Gabie was harbouring a murderer aboard her space ship. Did she know? He swung around on his heel and stared back in the docking bay direction. Was she safe? She had to be. Did she know? A prickle went down his spine. She might.

  And if she was caught, it would certainly be the incarceration of her into a life of slavery or even worse, Cardrak prison planet.

  Long legs eating up the distance, Shamon hurried back to the docking bay.

  Mikal and Torkra kept pace, their faces puzzled, but they didn’t ask any questions.

  A heavy weight slammed into Shamon’s chest. The Larceny was gone.

  Simon looked at him. “She left within minutes of you going into the settlement.”

  “Did she say anything?” Shamon grappled with the knowledge that she was gone.

  “Nay. We didn’t see anyone. All we knew was that suddenly the ramp went up and the ship took off.”

  And very probably the murderer was still onboard.

  “I have to contact her.”

  Simon nodded.

  Shamon bolted up the ramp and into the cargo hold. He was off the platform lift before it even rattled to a halt on the second floor and running to the control cabin. Throwing himself into one of the two chairs, he flicked the viscomm on and dialled in to the general frequency.

  He couldn’t get a lock on the Larceny, so he sent out a message that would be picked up by most frequencies. Now all he could do was wait.

  Leaning back in the chair, he rubbed his brow. She had to get back to him.

  Tipping his head back, he rested it on the backrest of the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Why had she left so suddenly, without a word? It had to have been due to the man visiting her ship that morning. It had to be.

  He closed his eyes. There had been such warmth and desire between them. Shamon and Gabie, entwined in each other’s arms, her husky laugh sounding still in his ears. Her little moans. Her sparkling eyes and merriment.

  He not only had to get hold of her to warn her of the murderer she had on board, but also to... well, to keep in contact with her. Seeing her once or twice a year just wasn’t on, not now.

  And she had a murderer aboard...

  Snapping upright, he flicked onto a frequency block to almost everyone except a select few. Leaning forward, he waited impatiently. There was one crew who might be able to contact her. One crew who could be anywhere in the Lawful or Outlaw Sector, though from what he’d heard about Brucie, the bastard who’d flung Gabie over the banister, he’d had a recent run-in with a certain pirate crew, and that meant they were in the Lawful Sector.

  And if his suspicions were correct, this pirate crew knew Gabie.

  The screen flickered and then a big blonde wench appeared. Her eyes widened in delight. “Hello, handsome! Wow—what happened to the beard?”

  “Illona.” He even forgot to be scared. Normally the busty, lusty blonde chased after him with such fervour she actually made him nervous. He didn’t have time to be nervous now. “Lost the beard in a gamble.”

  “I like it! Now I can see all those strong features. Makes my heart pound even more.” Placing one hand over a buxom bosom, she fluttered her fingers. “Miss me, lover? Want to schedule a rendezvous?” She winked. “Big bed. Big blonde. Big man. Big co—”

  “Illona, do you know Gabie?”

  “Gabie?” One blonde brow shot up.

  “The smuggler.”

  She leered. “Private enterprise, I believe she calls it.”

  “You do know her!” Thank the stars.

  Illona grinned widely. “We did her a little favour recently.”

  “So ’twas you that stripped Brucie and his crew of everything.”

  “Nearly gave me heartburn, seeing that bastard without his clothes, but you know...” She shrugged, though her eyes glinted wickedly. “Had a favour to repay, so we did it.”

  “I need to contact her.”

  The grin faded. “Oh?”

  “Aye. What’s her frequency?”

  The grin still played around her lips, but her eyes were suddenly hard and calculating. “What’s this about, lover?”

  “’Tis private. Please, Illona. The frequency.”

  “I can’t give it to you.”

  Curses. Was the wench jealous? Not now! “Illona—”

  Leaning back in the chair, Illona studied him. “We don’t give out frequencies. It’s not part of our code.”

  “I didn’t know you had a code.”

  “My, my. Is the normally agreeable Shamon getting touchy?”

  He ground his teeth.

  Illona smiled slightly. The wench was baiting him. But she still had that calculating look in her eyes. Why had he never noticed how calculating she could be? Because she always acts like such a sex-mad wench around me. If it had been Brina, her captain, or Donika, another crew-mate, he would have expected it. He’d never again underestimate this big blonde wench as just a lusty space pirate.

  “Illona...” He hesitated. “I really need to speak to Gabie. ’Tis important.”

  “I can’t give out her frequency.” Illona sighed. “But I can get a message to her.”

  Relief flooded him. “Ask her to contact me immediately.”

  Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “Do you need us?”

  “Nay.”

  “If it’s trouble—”

  “I just need to tell Gabie something. Urgently.”

  “All right.” She nodded slowly. “I’ll send her a message.”

  “Thank you.” He relaxed back against the chair. “Thank you, lass.”

  She looked at him for several seconds, then smiled widely. “Sure you don’t want me and a big bed, lover? I could show you a really good time.” She winked.

  “Uh... nay.” He shifted uncomfortably.

  Illona laughed and cut the connection.

  Stars, the pirate wench had always been able to unnerve him.

  Closing his eyes, Shamon blew out a breath. He’d wait in the control cabin. Gabie had to contact him soon.

  Minutes ticked past with agonizing slowness and worry bit deep. Was Gabie all right? Was she hurt? Did she know?

  “Problems, Shamon?” A husky voice at the door brought his attention around.

  “Sabra.” Uh-oh. “Nay, lass.”

  She entered the cabin, her gaze going to the viscomm. “Are you sure?”

  “Certain.” Shamon watched her closely, careful to guard his expression.

  The wench was too smart, she saw too much. Felt too much. Her intuition was uncanny at times, no doubt from years as a bounty hunter then a security officer.

  Sabra looked down at him. “Troublesome thoughts?”

  “Nay.” He made himself smile. “What are you doing, lass?”

  “Just
passing through.” She studied his face, those cobalt eyes serious. “I’m leaving shortly.”

  “Going back home?”

  “Not yet.” She seemed about to say something more, then gave her head a little shake. “You take care, Shamon.”

  “You, too.” He watched her turn and leave.

  At the door she stopped and glanced back at him. Again it seemed as though she were on the verge of saying something, and again she gave that peculiar little head shake.

  She left and Shamon stared at the empty doorway.

  ~ * ~

  Raznin and Tason watched as the Larceny landed with a grind of engines.

  “Think the ship will even be able to manage the load?” Tason queried.

  “No doubt about it,” Raznin replied.

  The ramp lowered and Gabie, Olin and Misha came out. Olin and Misha walked behind Gabie as she strode up to Raznin and Tason.

  “All right,” Gabie said bluntly, her face set. “Where’s this damn cargo?”

  Raznin smiled easily. “Nice to see you, Gabie.”

  A muscle jumped in her clenched jaw.

  “I’m glad you saw sense,” he continued.

  “Didn’t have much choice, did I?” She glared around the clearing. “So? I want to get this over with.”

  “A fast business deal. I like it.” He gestured to a small group of people huddled in the shade cast by his ship. “There’s your cargo.”

  “Where?”

  “There.”

  Gabie looked closer and then red crept through her cheeks. “That’s human cargo!”

  Raznin observed her with interest.

  Misha and Olin looked grim, but Gabie was furious.

  “That’s bloody human cargo!” Gabie was almost shouting, her fists clenched. “You’re trading lives!”

  “It’s a trade.” He was amused.

  “You’re getting us involved in illegal slavery!”

  “You’re just the transport.”

  “Goddamn this!” Gabie swung on her heel and glared at Misha and Olin. “Shit!”

  They returned her regard steadily. Raznin was interested to see that the only signs of anger that Misha showed was a flaring of her white nostrils and a glitter in her pink-rimmed eyes. Olin ran one hand through his grizzled hair and squinted unhappily.

  The old man wasn’t yawning now.

  “Get them aboard,” Raznin ordered Tason.

  “Damn it!” Gabie scrubbed her face, breathing hard.

  Reaching out, Raznin grabbed her arm and yanked her around.

  Furiously, Gabie glared up at him.

  “This is what happens when you get too good at passing inspections, Gabie,” he said smoothly. “You come to the attention of those better than you. You’re a valuable transport mode right now.”

  “Oh, I feel so much bloody better!” she snarled.

  “There will, of course, be a tidy little sum of dinnos in it for you and your crew.”

  “My heart is filled with gratitude!”

  “Somehow I doubt it.” Disinterested, he dropped her arm and watched as the little group of people—five in all comprised of four women and one man—were marched past them. “Where are you putting them?”

  Swearing softly, Gabie gestured to Olin to lead the way. “Two of our cabins. We’ll have to double up ourselves.”

  Raznin looked at her. “Don’t let them loose on the ship, Gabie. I’m warning you. If they escape or contact anyone, you’ll all be on the way to Cardrak.”

  He could practically feel her frustration simmering in the air. Interesting. He’d expected her to be unhappy about this, but her fury was something... enticing. Raznin looked at her with renewed interest.

  Ripe curves, a gamine face normally alight with mischief and merriment, she looked furiously pretty right now. Her breasts rose and fell with every deep, angry breath she took.

  Reaching out, he touched a long strand of hair that escaped her ponytail. “After this we’ll get together.”

  Shock flared in Gabie’s eyes right before she knocked his hand aside. “That wasn’t part of our business deal, Raznin. Just to run your cargo. Nothing else, understand?” She stuck out her hand. “Now give me the damned disc with the directions. I want this over and done with.”

  Amused, he handed her the disc and watched as she loaded it into the handtronic she normally kept in the pocket of her jacket.

  “Outlaw Sector. Surprise me some more.” She transferred the information from the disc onto the handtronic, slipped the disc free and gave it back to him.

  Slapped it into his palm, to be more precise.

  “Thank you.” He pocketed the disc. “I want a daily update.”

  “Well, of course you would,” she returned snidely. “Any set time, boss?”

  “You’ve got an attitude, Gabie.”

  “Well, bugger me. Really? I wonder why?” Swinging around on her heel, she stormed up the ramp. “Come on, Misha. We’ve the devil’s work to do.”

  The ramp went up as soon as Raznin’s men came down, and he stood with Tason and watched as the Larceny rose and shot off into the sky. Within minutes it was a mere speck and then it disappeared into space.

  “Gabie was upset,” Tason said conversationally.

  “Yes.” Raznin smiled. “She was. Delightfully so.”

  ~ * ~

  Another space ship rose in the air from the settlement and took off in the opposite direction.

  His work here was done. Cheran checked with the pilot before returning to the sumptuous private dining cabin and sitting down at the decorative table. A servant stepped forward and laid a platter of prime steak before him, along with a platter of vegetables and a pot of gravy.

  Selecting choice cuts, he put them on his plate and sat back while the servant ladled the gravy onto the meat.

  Emet was wanted for murder and now it was in the hands of the law. Cheran wasn’t so sure it was the wisest move but he wasn’t about to argue with Mellar. One knew when to quit—and that was while no one was pointing a finger at him.

  Chewing on a piece of meat, he closed his eyes and savoured it. Oh yes, it was good. It was very good.

  ~ * ~

  Gabie was ropable. She was so angry she felt like her head was going to burst.

  Swearing, she stormed up and down the dining cabin. “Human cargo! Slaves! We’re bloody carrying slaves!”

  “And a wanted outlaw,” Paz said unwittingly.

  “A wanted outlaw is the least of my worries!” Thrusting her hand through her hair for the tenth time, Gabie kicked the table leg. “Bugger it!”

  Misha and Olin exchanged glances.

  “Cripes! Bloody security and bloody sharks!” Gabie ranted. “There’s no difference between the lot of them!”

  “Now, Gabie,” Misha attempted soothingly. “If we get caught the security won’t let us go to prison or the slavers. We’re all right.”

  “You think?” Gabie glared at her. “I don’t trust security!”

  “They seem to have a lot riding on this,” Olin attempted.

  “Not as much as we do.” Her hair got another hand raking. “Never, never, never have we ever stooped to human cargo. Never!”

  “Take it easy,” Misha said sternly. “You’ll go bald in a minute.”

  “I’m going grey now, so what’s the bloody difference?”

  “Then you’re going to give yourself a stroke.” Grabbing her arm, Misha dragged her to the table and pushed her onto a stool. “Paz, get Gabie a cold drink before she busts a blood vessel.”

  Sheesh. Gabie scrubbed her face with her hands. Things just went from bad to worse. Just that morning she was wrapped in Shamon’s arms, loved almost to death, with what she thought of as her other cares being taken care of. Now she was caught in a play between security and a heartless smuggler. Even more ironic, both of them were using her and her friends as bait.

  Picking up the glass Paz placed before her, Gabie downed the berry juice in several gulps, and almost gave herself h
eartburn for her efforts. Placing it back down on the table, she became aware of three faces looking worriedly at her.

  Crap. She couldn’t lose it. She was the captain. It was her job to care for her crew.

  Her crew.

  A thought niggled at the back of her mind.

  “Don’t you even think it!” Misha barked out.

  “What?”

  “You’re not ditching us and doing this alone.”

  “I don’t see what choice it is of yours.”

  “Plenty of choice.”

  “I’m the captain. My word is law.”

  Misha laughed outright.

  Olin smiled lopsidedly. “We’re all in this together.”

  “It doesn’t have to be—”

  “We’re family,” Paz put in.

  That silenced them all.

  “And family stick together.” His eyes were big in his face. “Through thick and thin. Toil and trouble. Things.”

  “Paz—” began Gabie a little more gently.

  “No!” He was pale but determined. “No, you and Misha saved me. Olin takes care of me. We take care of each other. We’re family, Gabie. That’s what you told me.”

  “And it’s true. It’ll always be true. But I need to think of the best for us all—”

  “We’re family.” He folded his arms. “I’m staying with you.”

  Gabie’s jaw dropped open in amazement. Paz never declared anything but doom and gloom. He’d never taken a stand in the time she’d known him.

  “Hey,” said Misha in surprise. “You’re the one who’d run and hide rather than face a fight.”

  “We all do that,” Olin said, his lips quirking.

  “Of course we do,” Gabie said. “Cripes, we’re smugglers, not hardened criminals. And we’re small-time, which has suited us just fine.”

  “Well, we’re in a bind now,” Paz argued defiantly. “And we’re sticking together through it. Right?” He looked at Olin and Misha.

  Nodding, they looked at Gabie.

  She conceded defeat. “Right.” She smiled widely. “I love you guys. You know that, right?”

  “I feel so warm and fuzzy,” Misha returned.

  “Now that’s taken care of...” Paz pulled a printed paper from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. “How about this?”

  Picking up the paper, Gabie scanned it quickly. “Well, look at that.”

  Misha and Olin raised their brows.