Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

Olin chuckled while Paz blushed.

  “I reckon our boy is more than just a bunch of mournful hormones.” Olin grinned widely.

  “Yeah, I reckon.” Gabie refocused. “Well, I like that plan. It gives us a start. But how do we get that tracking device out?”

  “I can do it,” Olin offered.

  “You?”

  “Sure. I just need to pick up a few items in the settlement when we land and I can do it.”

  “You can’t do it now?”

  “Gabie, I need a scanner to find out where the tracking device is, and they’re usually just under the skin somewhere. I find it and I take it out.”

  “You can really get the tracking device out?”

  “Yep.” Olin took a drink of una and smacked his lips in supreme self-satisfaction. “I’ve removed a few things in my time.”

  “I don’t even want to think about that.” Misha made a face.

  “But we need her cooperation.” Olin chose another piece of cake and broke it into bite-sized pieces. “Someone needs to take her aside and explain to her.”

  “We can’t do that until we’re ready to let them go.” Gabie shook her head. “We can’t risk the others getting ideas.”

  “Are we planning to release them all and run?” Paz asked.

  Gabie looked at him and sighed. “I wish we could, Paz, but it’s not possible. I’m not risking us going to Cardrak if we’re caught by security.”

  “But we could run for the Outlaw Sector.”

  “Paz,” she said quietly. “As much as I want to, we can’t just make a run for it to the Outlaw Sector and hope to remain free. Raznin’s a vicious bastard and he undoubtedly has men in the Outlaw Sector. In the Lawful Sector, Sabra will be hunting us. I hate to say this, but Sabra is our only hope out of this mess.”

  He was appalled. She couldn’t blame him. It was pretty much how she felt, too.

  “Not only that,” Misha added. “Sabra has contacts in the Outlaw Sector. We’ll have every bounty hunter pack after our hides.”

  “And the only thing we can do then is go deeper into the Outlaw Sector and place ourselves under the dubious protection of someone more vicious than those chasing us,” Olin stated. “Gabie’s right, Paz. We’re stuck on this mission.”

  The timer on the wall flicked seconds passed as they all sat and contemplated the meaning of the words they all spoke.

  Gabie rubbed her eyes. Misha stared at the table. Olin gazed at nothing. Paz looked at them all in turn.

  “So why are we helping Rose?” Paz finally queried. “Won’t that endanger us?”

  “She’s pregnant,” Gabie replied.

  “But she’ll be saved by Sabra, won’t she?”

  “Not necessarily. It’s dicey. Things could go wrong between now and when we deliver them to the smugglers on the other end of this trip.” Gabie shook her head. “I don’t want to risk Rose’s baby, or complications to Rose’s health if she loses the baby through some major cock-up.”

  “But security has this covered. Why are we deviating from the path?”

  Yeah, why were they? Why was Rose so important? Gabie looked at Misha. That was why.

  Misha met her gaze unhappily.

  “Oh,” Paz said. “Okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay,” Misha said quietly. “I’m endangering us because of my own foolish fantasies. I’m the weak link here.”

  “No, you’re not,” Gabie returned immediately. “You have feelings for Emet and I understand that. Sort of. Besides, we have to get Emet away safely before the law stumbles upon him, and it’s no big deal to send Rose with him. As long as we stick to the plan and he and Rose can be trusted to keep their mouths shut, we’re fine.”

  “Can he be trusted?” Olin asked.

  Misha looked levelly at him. “Yes. Yes, he can.”

  “And Rose?”

  “She’s an escaped slave, he’s an escaped outlaw. Neither is going to say anything.” She took a deep breath. “He has a mission of his own, anyway.”

  “I’d forgotten about that.” Gabie rubbed the table with a fingertip. “Will he cancel his mission to get Rose to safety?”

  “Let me talk to him.”

  Gabie straightened. “Misha, not yet. Wait until we’ve landed. We need to make sure that Rose is definitely his sister. Resemblance and coincidence aside, this is a dangerous game. We need proof.”

  “Get the photo image you took of Rose and show Emet,” Paz suggested. “Just tell him you think you know where she is and we might be able to get her.”

  “Good thinking.” Olin nodded. “Then tell him if we get her, will he agree to go away with her, hide her somewhere.”

  “Yeah, that could work.” Gabie took a sip of una. “Find out his intentions first, then get things organized.”

  “What about the other slaves?” Paz asked. “What will they think if Rose disappears?”

  “That we’ve sold her. They will be told nothing.” Misha straightened up. “I’ll get the photo image and show Emet.”

  Leaning back in the chair, Gabie watched as Misha left the cabin. Paz wandered off to bed.

  Yawning, Olin stood up and rubbed her hair affectionately. “You’re doing the right thing, Gabie.”

  “It just gets stickier,” Gabie replied.

  “Love isn’t a clear flight.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Misha doesn’t trust easily.”

  “And that’s the only reason why I’m doing this.” She looked up at Olin.

  He smiled and walked away.

  Love. Stretching out her legs, Gabie stared at the far wall and waited. Love could be grand, apparently, but it could also be a pain in the arse.

  There was the muffled sound of voices, one raised. More silence. Voices again, quieter. She glanced up at the timer. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Refilling the mug with hot una, she sat back down and sipped.

  Finally Misha re-entered and sat down. Gabie squinted at her. Her lips were kiss-swollen and her hair mussed. “He showed his gratitude?”

  Misha flushed, but her eyes were bright. “You could say that.”

  “I take it Rose is his sister.”

  “Yes. He was so happy, but also worried. I had to do some reassuring.”

  Gabie eyed her. “So I see.”

  Misha smiled widely.

  Gabie grinned and sipped the una. Okay, life was difficult right now, but sometimes one just had to laugh.

  “So how are we going to get them off the ship?” Misha queried. “When and where?”

  “Thinking would be a good plan right now. I have no idea.”

  “Security is monitoring us on each stop.”

  “Yep.”

  “Security and Raznin are monitoring us in space.”

  “Yep.”

  Misha attempted to tidy her long, white braid. “How about a meeting in space?”

  “Who?”

  “The Daamen traders. We could transfer Rose and Emet to their ship. No one would suspect.”

  “Out of the question. They do not get involved.”

  Minutes ticked past again.

  “How about someone else meet us in space?” Misha suggested.

  “I’ve another thought.” Gabie rubbed her chin slowly, an idea forming.

  “Oh boy,” Misha said. “Wait for the fireworks.”

  ~ * ~

  The docking bay was lit by big floodlights when the Daamen trade ship landed.

  The ramp came down and the crew appeared.

  “Hey, I’m looking for a suspect named Simon,” a husky voice came out from the shadows nearby. “I plan to handcuff him and do some disciplinary measures.”

  Without blinking an eye, Simon swung straight off the ramp and disappeared into the darkness. A shriek sounded, a bit of swearing, and he came back into view with his struggling wife slung over one shoulder.

  “Have a great time,” he told his crew, his eyes twinkling as he strode back up the ramp. “And don’t come back for a couple of hours.”


  Des’s long, red braid bumped against the back of his thighs. Bracing her hands on his back, she lifted herself up enough to wave cheerily at the traders. “Yep. Bugger off, you lot. I have to take this man in hand.”

  The traders grinned and waved back. Simon disappeared into the depths of the cargo hold and they heard the grinding and clunking of the platform lift as it ascended upwards in the ship.

  Heddam laughed. “Well, ’tis Simon taken care of for a while.”

  Kel arched one brow at Shamon. “And looks like you might be taken care of for a while as well, friend.”

  Shamon glanced around at the other three ships docked in the docking bay. One was a planet shuttle, the other a smaller, sleek space ship, and the third was the Larceny.

  Gabie. His heart picked up and he couldn’t stop the big grin that spread over his face.

  “Aye, ’tis another one of us taken care of.” Mikal nudged his brother, Torkra. “’Tis time we found ourselves a little wench to save us from our loneliness.”

  “Your overworked hormones, you mean.” Aamun slung an arm around each brother’s shoulders. “Come on, boys. I’m the oldest here—”

  “And wed,” Torkra said.

  “And totally besotted by my beloved Mina,” he agreed. “So until I see her again in a few weeks, ’tis my lot to try and steer you young ’uns down the shiny, clean, chaste path while we’re here.” He winked at Heddam. “I’ll watch these boys at the tavern, make sure none of those wenches corrupt them.”

  “Help!” Torkra opened his eyes wide in mock panic. “Heddam, save us! Help!”

  “Aye, you go help them,” Shamon said, striding off towards the Larceny. “I’m going to check up on the smuggling game.”

  “Your game sounds more fun than Aamun’s!” Mikal yelled.

  “Now, now, lads,” Aamun said. “Your mother will thank me.”

  “We won’t,” Torkra retorted.

  “If I don’t get a wench soon,” Mikal stated, “You might start looking good to me, Aamun.”

  “I didn’t know you cared so much.” Aamun fluttered his eyelashes.

  Shamon grinned as the sounds of merriment followed him, but then he saw Paz come hurtling out of the Larceny. The youth skidded to a knock-kneed halt right in front of him.

  “Are you all right?” Alarmed, Shamon reached out to steady him.

  “Oh, I’m fine.” Paz looked up at him. “Gabie headed into the settlement. You’ll find her there somewhere. I don’t expect her back for a while.”

  Disappointment flooded Shamon. “Do you know where she headed?”

  “Uh... not really. Business.” Paz’s face lit up and he nodded. “Yep. Business.”

  “Most of the merchants don’t do business this time of night.”

  “Merchants?” Paz’s face got a strange expression on it.

  “Ah.” Now Shamon understood. “’Twould this business be illegal, by any chance?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Private enterprise is what we do.”

  Shamon sighed. “Tell her I’ll be at one of the taverns. I’ll be back in about...” He glanced over at the trade ship and a grin quirked his lips. “Four hours or so. She can find me at the trade ship or the tavern. Tell her it doesn’t matter what time, I’ll answer her call.”

  Paz nodded and started backing away.

  “Don’t forget to tell her,” Shamon said.

  “I won’t.” Paz wheeled and bolted back to the Larceny, disappearing inside quickly.

  Turning back, Shamon saw that his friends had just reached the gates of the docking bay. He sprinted after them and walked with them into the settlement. Instead of settling in the closest tavern they came to, however, he checked out all three taverns in the settlement in the hopes of coming across Gabie. Heddam accompanied him, but when they had no luck, they returned to the main tavern and sat with the other traders.

  Or with some of them. Mikal and Torkra were already gone.

  “They couldn’t even wait for a nice ale.” Aamun shook his head, laughter in his eyes.

  “Just wait until they’re wed,” Kel said. “Pretty tavern wenches won’t compare to their own lass.” Sighing dreamily, he took out a small image photo of his wife from the pocket inside his vest.

  Heddam faked a shudder. “Old married men.”

  Shamon grinned. A commotion at the doorway had him looking up quickly, but it was just a couple of drunks staggering outside. The doors banged shut again. Disappointed, he returned his gaze to his friends.

  Two saucy tavern whores came across with mugs of ale. They giggled and flirted, but only Heddam was interested. Aamun, Kel and Etol laughed and chatted, but as they were wed, that was as far as they were prepared to go. Shamon was too preoccupied with thoughts of Gabie. One of the wenches sat on Heddam’s lap and giggled and whispered in his ear. After one long, wistful look at the four big traders sitting and sipping their ale, the other tavern wench sighed and gave up.

  An hour passed before a figure passing the big window they sat beside caught Shamon’s attention. It was Olin carrying a small pouch. By the time Shamon got to his feet and made it out onto the sidewalk, he’d disappeared.

  Scratching his head, Shamon looked up and down the lamp-lit street. The old man could move fast but then again, there were plenty of shadowy places for him to disappear into quickly.

  There was still no sign of Gabie. Leaning against the veranda post, he lifted his head and breathed in the fresh air. Inside the tavern was the odour of ale, perfume, sweat and food. Outside was a refreshing change for a few minutes.

  Another hour passed and still there was no sign of Gabie. Shamon did a quick check of the taverns again, but she was nowhere to be found. The trade buildings were locked down for the night.

  Disappointment grew. Where could the lass be? No doubt illegal business, but he didn’t like it. ’Twasn’t safe. As if she wasn’t playing with fire already. Hell, the lass was just dangling above the flames. She should be safe at home.

  His home on Daamen. Safely surrounded by family and friends. Where she couldn’t get into trouble. Shamon sighed and looked up at the star-spattered night sky. Wishful thinking that didn’t look to be coming true any time soon.

  She had one more stop scheduled after this planet, and that meant that stop was going to be the most dangerous, he just knew it. Sabra might be keeping tight-lipped about it, but he wasn’t a fool. He intended to be nearby when Gabie landed on that planet for the final stop. There was no way he was allowing her to face danger without him nearby.

  Returning to his friends inside the tavern, Shamon sat back down. He’d just started to nibble on a bowl of fruit when the door burst open and Paz looked around frantically before shooting back out again.

  Shamon didn’t need any more hints. Gabie was in trouble. Lunging up from the table he moved fast, the tavern crowd parting hurriedly for his big frame as he thundered through. Shoving the door open, he looked straight across the street to the other tavern. A fight was in full swing.

  Paz hovered outside the tavern, wringing his hands and biting his lip, then he squared his shoulders and started to bravely head into the building.

  A peacekeeper grabbed his arm and yanked him back. Two more peacekeepers appeared, and then someone else shoved through the crowd. Shamon saw his face in the light and recognized him instantly as a security officer, one he’d seen in the company of Sabra and Des a few times.

  If security and Paz were trying to get into the tavern, that could only mean Gabie was in there somewhere.

  “Are we going in?” Aamun stood at his elbow.

  “Aye,” Shamon replied grimly, and sprinted across the street. “And I’m only looking for Gabie and any of her mob.”

  He shoved past the peacekeepers quickly, and they were no match for his big frame as he ploughed through them with Aamun, Etol and Kel right on his heels.

  The tavern was a riot of fighting bodies. Tavern whores squealed and swore, men cursed and grunted, and bottles were flung.


  Shamon waded in without a second thought, grabbing men by their scruffs and throwing them aside. The whole time his gaze swept the tavern, trying to spot a bouncy ponytail or a white mohawk. It was almost impossible with the seething mass.

  Fighting his way to the other side, he swung around to find that Aamun, Kel and Etol were in the thick of the fight, shoving brawlers out of their way as they searched for Gabie.

  He backed up against a table intending to jump up on it to get a good view when he felt a tugging on his pants. Glancing down, he saw Gabie on her hands and knees under the table looking up at him.

  “Hi, honey!” she shouted. “Want to share my space?”

  He was so relieved he nearly fell to his knees. Instead he reached under, grabbed a handful of her shirt and dragged her out and up. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Staying out of the way,” she replied logically, right before her eyes widened. “Look out!”

  Shamon dodged the bottle just as it whizzed over his head. He heard a thunk and lifted his head in time to see Gabie shaking her hand and swearing. The bottle was lying on the table beside her. The crazy wench had stopped it with her hand.

  He had to get her out of here. Turning with her tucked close in to his side, he saw that more peacekeepers had poured into the tavern, the security officer among them. Aamun, Etol and Kel fell in on each side of Shamon and Gabie, forming a barricade as they shoved their way through the battling crowd.

  The front was too dangerous, so the traders turned to the back door. Within minutes they burst out into the quiet of the night.

  “It’s about time!” Misha exclaimed, running forward. “That fight we started wasn’t going to last for... long...” She trailed off, her eyes widening at the sight of the traders.

  Gabie flapped one hand at her frantically, and Shamon stared disbelievingly down at her. “You started the fight?”

  “Cripes, no!” She looked affronted.

  But Shamon knew. He took one look into her innocent eyes and he just knew. The wench was up to her neck in some kind of underhanded happening and he meant to find out just what, but before he could say anything two peacekeepers stepped into the little alley with their lasers drawn.

  “Hands up,” one of them ordered.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Aamun said. “We were trying to get out.”