Drifters' Alliance, Book 2 Page 9

  “If you could just leave your weapons on your side, that’d be great,” I say, smiling as encouragingly as I can.

  He pauses. “Not sure that’s such a good idea for my welfare.” He rubs the buttons of his shirt at the front of his belly, then his fingers glide over and scratch at a spot off to the side. His upper teeth bite into the beard below his lower lip as his eyes roam the cargo space, taking its measure.

  Ew. I can only imagine how long it’s been since he’s bathed. The smell drifting over from his direction tells me it’s been a while.

  I shrug off his concerns. “It’s just policy. No one from another ship gets on with weapons. But if it makes you feel any better, all I have on me is this.” I point to the knife at my leg and try to look as girly as possible. Twirling my hair around my finger seems like the thing to do. I grin as hard as I can while doing it.

  He frowns at me. “You feelin’ okay, little lady? Ya look a little … piqued.”

  I stop the twirling and the grinning. I guess I’m not as good at the girly thing as I thought. Dammit. “Yeah, I’m fine. You here to deal or not? I don’t have all day.”

  “Thought you were hanging around for somethin’,” he says, pulling a gun from his waistband at his back and twirling it around like he’s a practiced gunslinger. I’ve met enough droid heads to know that the ability to spin a gun doesn’t necessarily translate into the ability to fire one and hit anything accurately, so it doesn’t impress me like I think it’s supposed to.

  I shrug. “Just doing a little spit shine on the ship.” I gesture to the still marked-up walls in the cargo bay around us. “As you can see, she’s in pretty bad shape.”

  “You been captain for long on her?” His eyes continue to roam the space in appraisal. He’s probably dreaming about stealing her from me, the bastard.

  “Nope. Just got her. Got lots to do to get her shipshape.” I rub my hands together. “Put that gun in the airlock and we can get started. What’ve you got to trade?”

  He walks backward very slowly, reaching up to hang his gun by the trigger loop on a hook inside the airlock, just past the door on our side.

  “Welp … I got me some quasicrystal if you’re interested.”

  “What kind?” Baebong would probably give one of his eyeteeth for a chunk big enough to power one of his stupid gadgets. The refractions coming off some of those things can focus a lot of power, depending on its clarity and subtype.

  “Katang rose.”

  I nod. Yep. Baebong is going to be handing over some teeth. “Nice. Can I see it?”

  He shrugs. “Let me see your chicken first.”

  “It’s in the deep freeze right now. We were trying to keep the smell from getting too bad.”

  Tam shows up at the entrance to the corridor that leads into the cargo bay. “We all good in here? Need me for anything?”

  “No, thanks, Tam. I’m going to have Jeffers show us to the deep freeze so Captain Bob here can take a look at what we have to trade. He’s interested in chicken.” I open my eyes a little wider so he can see that I have a plan. Kind of.

  I don’t actually know where the damn deep freeze is; I just know that this is where we decided to keep the schlafhammer and its smelly host until we know better what to do with it, and it’s got to be a more confined area than this cargo hold. I need to get Captain Bob in a smaller space without his gun, and then I’ll be able to control the situation with minimal risk to myself or my crew.

  Tam nods. “Oh, okay. Gotcha. Chicken. Cool.” He backs slowly out of the cargo area and into the corridor, quickly disappearing from view.

  Jeffers moves off toward a hallway I haven’t explored too much yet, and I gesture for Captain Bob to precede me. He walks sideways, apparently not too excited about leaving his back exposed to me like that. I guess he’s not as stupid as he looks.

  “Why’d you keep it?” he asks. “The chicken. If it was stinkin’ and all.”

  “I wasn’t going to, actually. But this guy who used to be on the ship came after me for it, so I figured it was pretty special to him, at least. Thought he might come after us again, and decided it’d be better to have a bargaining chip if he’s going to be persistent about it.”

  I focus on Bob’s body language, trying to figure out if he knows Tremblay by his reaction. So far, he’s giving nothing away, walking slumped over, looking over his left shoulder at me every few seconds. Apparently, he expects my attack to come in the form of me jumping on his back, but that’s not how this is going to go down. I don’t plan for there to be that much body contact, if and when I take him out.

  “Some guy, huh?” he asks. ”You don’t know him?”

  “I know his name, but that’s about it.” I gesture at our guide. “Jeffers knows him better than I do.”

  “His name is Tremblay,” Jeffers says, not turning around. He moves up a narrow set of stairs to a small door ahead. It has a wheel lock on the front of it that has to be turned with two hands. “He piloted this ship before Cass came to be captain.” Jeffers grips the ring and begins to turn it. “I didn’t know too much about him outside of that.”

  “Do you know him?” I ask Bob.

  “Nope, don’t recognize the name. Can’t say that I do. Nope. Never met him.”

  Lie. Okay, so Captain Bob knows the pilot and he knows about the chicken, too. Does this mean he’s Alliance? That Tremblay’s Alliance? I’m finding either one of those scenarios hard to believe. If they are Alliance, it makes me worry about joining. Do I really want to be aligned with guys like this, dependent on them for my survival? The whole idea is rather sickening when I think about it for more than two seconds. This guy is one of the worst liars and the worst players of the lame duck gambit I’ve ever encountered.

  Jeffers pushes in the door and steps into a small chamber just in front of a wall of large drawers. His breath comes out in puffs of white smoke around his face. “Do you remember which drawer, Captain?” Jeffers is waiting for me to tell him what to do. The only problem is, now that I’m here, I have no idea what my next step should be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  BOB TURNS TO ME, A smirk on his face. “Yes, which one is it, Captain? Tell us.”

  I look at the bank of drawers in front of me, my vision going a little blurry. It’s like I’m playing a game of truth or dare, and I’m almost sure the truth is going to be the wrong answer here. Better turn this game around, then, Cass.

  I smile, acting like I haven’t a care in the world. “First tell me how you know Tremblay.” Truth or dare, Captain Boob?

  Captain Bob turns around to face me more fully now, leaving Jeffers at his back. First mistake, asshole.

  “What makes you think I know this Tremblay person?”

  “I know that’s why you’re here. You heard about our … chicken … and decided to get it for yourself. What I don’t know is whether this is a deal negotiated between you and Langlade’s man, or if you decided to go rogue and just take it for yourself once you realized he’d lost possession of it.”

  He smirks. “You sure do get your head in a twist over some crazy things, don’t you? You been in the dark too long, little lady? That why you’re so obsessed with dead animals? You know, back in the day, they used to call things like that roadkill, and they weren’t good for keeping around.”

  So, you’re choosing dare, is that it? Argh, I hate it when people don’t cooperate.

  My eyes roll in annoyance. “Another Earth lover. Figures.” I back up a step to prepare myself for the inevitable. Narrowing my eyes at him, I rest my hand on my dagger. “I’m giving you another chance to answer my questions before I become more forceful about it. Why don’t you spare us both the hassle and come forward?” I point at his beard. “Do that and I promise not to cut that roadkill off your face.”

  He leans way back and bursts out a big belly guffaw that leaves his midsection jumping around long after he’s done enjoying himself at my expense.

  “Aren’t you a pistol!” He’s grinning
, but there’s a hint of malice to it that has me alert to potential sudden moves that he might be thinking about making against me. “Cute too. Too bad you don’t know how to use the brains God gave you.” He reaches out toward me with one of his big mitts. Second mistake, asshole.

  My knife catches him in mid grab. The upward, reverse stroke I used opens up the palm of his hand to the tune of a six centimeter slash that’ll take enough stitches to close that I’m not worried about him using that hand against me anytime soon.

  As the man howls in pain, Jeffers grabs him over the shoulder at his collarbone, using a simple three-fingered pinch with a deep thrust from his thumb behind the bone to bring the guy to his knees. I watch as Captain Bob’s eyes widen and then glaze over in pain as he slowly sinks to the ground with his hand cradled to his chest, where it continues to bleed down his shirt.

  My knife is dripping fat-hairy-pirate blood, so I lower it to his shoulder and wipe it off. When it’s as clean as it’s going to get, I bring the point to the guy’s face so he can see the tip of it really clearly. “Ever been stuck in a deep freezer before?”

  His beard is trembling from rage or fear, I’m not sure which. Not that it matters. I’m in too far to turn back now.

  “It’s pretty painful, actually.” My voice is light, almost happy. I attribute this to the fact that at least I’m getting somewhere with him now. Besides, he chose a dare over giving me the truth. It’s not my fault he underestimated his opponents. “Especially for the fingers, the toes … and then the nose and the chin for some reason.” I think back to the time when I was forced to endure that torture. I’m lost in the memory for a few seconds before I come back to the matter at hand. “It’s a lot easier to just answer questions, to be honest. I mean, the freezing is bad, but the thawing out is way worse. Trust me on this.”

  His mouth is trembling with rage. “You’re going to pay for this.”

  “I’m already paying for it.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “Jesus, when was the last time you washed?”

  He lifts his elbows, like he’s thinking about using his one good hand to slash out at me, but he needs to get his balance first. I don’t think this guy gets on his knees very often.

  I shake my head. “Don’t do it, Pirate. I’m fresh out of patience with you.” I step a little closer, letting the blade get nearer to his nose. He’s going cross-eyed looking at it for a moment before he lifts his gaze to me, his dark eyes narrowed. “You came at me with bad intentions, Captain Bob. That gives me the right to defend myself by any means necessary.” I sway the knife around and back off a little. “Tremblay’s not worth the price you’ll pay for not telling me what I want to know.”

  “What do you know about Tremblay?” he finally asks.

  I shrug. “Not much. Enough, though.”

  “He’s not going to just disappear because you want it that way.”

  “Is that supposed to worry me?”

  “It should.”

  “Whatever. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll let you get back on your ship.” What I won’t do is let him back on his ship while it’s still able to operate independently, but he doesn’t need to know that right now.

  My plan becomes crystal clear in that moment. This jackoff is going to be delivered to our friends in the Alliance as my good faith gesture. What better way to prove they can trust me than by handing this scumbag over? — a guy who was after their technology and willing to kill to get it.

  “I need to stand. My knees are bad.” He shifts left and then right, assuming I’ll agree and working his way up to getting on his feet.

  I press on his shoulder with the flat side of my blade. “Bad knees? Better talk fast, then, old man. The truth shall set those knees free.”

  Hunkering down, he sighs heavily. The sharp odors of not only a lack of hygiene but also fear are wafting up from his body. I’m so glad he got there without me having to resort to more bloodshed; my ship is dirty enough as it is.

  He grunts and speaks while staring at my boots. His tone tells me he’s ashamed to be confessing in my presence; the little lady he sorely misjudged has literally brought him to his knees. He won’t forget this for a very long time, which is going to be a problem for me. But what choice did I have? I tried to play nice first. He pushed me to this. I hate egotistical men who don’t believe a smallish girl can be a threat.

  “I got the idea about the chicken from Tremblay. Heard him bragging over drinks. Said he was going to bring people to heel.”

  “What people?” The two groups I see at Tremblay’s mercy with his hands on a device like the schlafhammer are the Alliance and the OSG, either through blackmail or its actual usage.

  “I don’t know. Figured I’d know once I saw what it was.”

  “And you didn’t stop to think how it might be bad for your health to go after something you don’t even know the details about?” And I thought I was the only gloob flying through the area.

  “I know when a guy like Tremblay gets excited enough to brag, I can ask more questions later. Besides, I didn’t have to get that far.

  Maybe he’s not that dumb. A middleman? Is that what he was aiming to be? “So all you needed to do was get it before he did, and then you’d offer to sell it to him? Is that it?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe. Like I said … I was willing to wait on my final plans after seeing it.”

  I back away and signal to Jeffers with my eyebrows that he should do the same. “Good enough. Unless you want to confess anything else.”

  Captain Bob looks up at me with murder in his eyes. “This isn’t the end of things between you and me.”

  “Nope. You’re right about that.”

  He glances at my knife blade before responding. “You gonna show me the chicken?”

  I shake my head. “That’s another nope.” I wiggle the knife up and down. “Stand, asshole. You’re going to spend a little time in my brig.”

  “But you said you’d put me back on my ship!” He struggles to get to his feet while still cradling his hand. Huffing and puffing soon ensues.

  “Gotta fix up that hand of yours, don’t I? Besides, my engineers have a few modifications they need to make to your boat before I let you back on it.”

  He’s spitting he’s so mad. “You have no right!” It’s like he grows ten extra centimeters in size as he puffs himself up to full height.

  I look up to keep us eye to eye. “Actually, I have the right to float your fat ass, but I’m not going to do that. Nor am I going to turn my back on you for a single second. So, get used to the fact that until further notice, you’re a guest on my ship. Maybe if you behave yourself, I’ll feed you.”

  I back out of the storage area and hold the wall to steady myself as I go down the stairs. “You good, Jeffers?”

  “Yes, Captain,” he says, sounding tired and maybe a little disappointed. It makes my heart clench up. Dammit. Why do I care so much what he thinks of me?

  “Thank you. Come see me when he’s secure.”

  I walk to the flightdeck on trembling legs, freaked out about what I’ve learned and what I’ve just decided to do with this pirate asshole. It almost makes me long for the days when I was hitching rides on other people’s rigs and just living to survive. Life was so much simpler then. Surviving is much easier than thriving. I wonder if I’ll ever get there, to the point where I feel like I’ve made it to the other side, drifting, making my own way, and not looking in my six all the time for someone to come up behind me and jack me up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  BAEBONG IS WAITING FOR ME on the flightdeck when I arrive.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, standing at his station when I approach.

  “What’s going on?” I fall down into my seat and stare out the clearpanel into the Dark. My mind is swimming with the craziness that is my life. “Well … we have a guy headed for the brig who was here to steal the schlafhammer that he heard about from Tremblay when the idiot was too drunk to realize what he was saying. I ha
ve no idea whether he was going to sell us out to Tremblay or use the device against us, or the OSG … or even none of the above. Maybe he had another plan. I didn’t want to stick him again to get more information.” I rub at my head, worried a massive headache is hiding just behind my eyes, waiting to come out and take over my brain. There’s a tingle there that usually signals the pain is soon to arrive, and I don’t know that the MI on this ship is prepared to deal with a migraine.

  “You stuck him?”

  “Just a flesh wound. When he came at me.”

  “Dumbass.”

  “I hope you mean him.” I laugh sadly, knowing it would be fair enough to attribute that moniker to myself. I let my hand fall away and watch my friend turn in his seat.

  “Him, of course.” Baebong studies me for a few seconds, and then he stands, coming over to my side. He punches me lightly on the upper arm when he gets there. “You’re doing just fine, Cass. Stop stressing.”

  I whack him lightly in the chest with the back of my hand. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  He gives me a half grin and shoves me sideways. “Sure, Captain, whatever you say. What’s our next step?”

  Sighing as he goes back to his station, I look out the panel again, trying to envision the best way to set myself and my crew up for success with the upcoming Alliance decision on the horizon. I hope those people are going to like my gift.

  “I want our engineers to de-arm that pirate’s ship and prepare it to be towed. No exterior comm links can exist, just a link with us. Then I want that fat fucker sealed up inside it so I don’t have to smell him anymore.”

  “Is that where that stink’s coming from?” Baebong waves his hand in front of his face as he links up with the twins. “Damn. I wasn’t going to say anything, but …”