Drifters' Alliance, Book 2 (12 page)

“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 have 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 …”

I smile as he continues going on and on about my lack of hygiene being strikingly similar to that of our pirate guest. I’m just too tired to fight back right now. I have to conserve my energy for dealing with Macon, the Alliance, and the stuff I just learned about Tremblay, my newest enemy in what promises to be a long line of them, if the past couple days is anything to judge by.

I’m brought back to the present when he shifts from insulting me to transmitting over the comm. “Yo, ginger boys.”

There’re some crackling sounds over the line before a response comes. “Listen, slant-eye, if you want us to continue to answer your transmissions, you’re going to have to chill on the insults.” Tam sounds as tired as I feel.

“Ginger’s not an insult. It’s just who you are. Can’t help that you wish you were a slant-eye too. Got orders from the captain. You ready?”

“Affirmative.”

“That ship we’re docked with? You gotta cut its comm lines. Nothing outside of the Anarchy can comm in or out, got it?”

“Yeah.” Tam’s voice is already perking up.

“De-arm the thing too. Junk blasters, the works.”

“We gonna keep it? Man, I’ll bet it has some sweet parts.”

I shake my head as Baebong turns to me for an answer.

“She says no.”

I link in to explain, figuring they’ll do a better job if they know what I’m up to. “He’s going to be an off-site prisoner until the Alliance shows up to deal with him. In the meantime, I don’t want him signaling any friends or using anything he has on there against us.”

“Oooh, okay. So you want a full electronics sweep.”

Gus’s voice comes over the link. “Did I hear someone say electronics sweep?”

I can’t help smiling. He reminds me of an eager puppy. “Yes,” I say. “Disable that mofo.”

“What about the vacuum cycle?” Tam asks. “You want me to work on that now or keep it on hold still?”

I shake my head while answering, even though he can’t see me. “No, let’s go ahead with it. Good idea. Cycle us up. The threat is removed for the moment, so I’m not worried about the power suck anymore.”

Turning my attention to Baebong, I drop my voice. “Bring up the holding chambers for me. I want to make sure Captain
Boob
makes it to where he’s supposed to be.”

A clearpanel to my left blinks and then formats itself into four separate screen blocks, each showing a chamber. One shows Macon standing in the float chamber, still looking out at the Dark; he doesn’t look as if he’s moved even a single inch. Two others are empty, but the last one on the bottom left shows Jeffers leading a limping pirate into his cell. At the entrance, Jeffers puts his hand on the man’s shoulder and leans in close to say something to him.

Baebong, reading my mind, brings up the comm link so we can listen in.

“Everything is going to be okay. Don’t worry. Just rest here, and I’ll be back with medical supplies to tend to your wound.”

“She’s crazy, you know. You’re not going to come to any good end flying with her. I’ve heard things.”

I stop breathing as I wait to hear my crewmate’s response.

Jeffers looks as though he’s going to say something, but then he twists his head around to look up at the video capture unit above his head. He slowly backs out of the door, shutting it behind him before he exits, not another word leaving his lips.

“He going to be a problem?” Baebong asks softly, his slightly disappointed tone telling me he’s referring to Jeffers, not the pirate.

“I really wish I knew,” I say, sad that I have to answer that way. An hour ago I would have said that I trusted Jeffers. Now, I’m not so sure I should. I doubt his confidence in me extends to a point that he’ll blindly follow when my tactics don’t agree with his sense of right and wrong. He might be battle-hardened and impressive with the way he manages prisoners, but that doesn’t mean he likes conflict.

I have a feeling Jeffers is one of those guys who’s seen too much and had to move as far in the other direction as possible to keep sane — from killer to healer. It happens. All it takes to succeed is a decision to do it and then consistent follow through backed by a buttload of willpower. For a guy like him, a girl like me could be a problem; I’ll definitely put that willpower to the test. I’m sure I already have.

“Better watch your back,” Baebong says.

“Please … I don’t even want to hear that right now.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it. Your back, I mean.”

I smile vaguely at him as the pain from the anticipated headache starts to seep into my brain. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“You okay?” He squints at me.

“Headache.”

“Migraine?”

“Not yet.”

Baebong talks into his comm unit. “Jeffers. Hey. We’ve got a migraine making its way up here to the flight deck. You got anything for that?”

I rest my head on my hand and close my eyes, not paying any attention to the answer that comes over the line. I just want to rest for a few minutes. Then I’ll get back to worrying about every single thing that can go wrong on my ship in the next twenty-four hours. My mind swirls with darkness as slivers of pain slice into my temples, making me vaguely nauseated.

Chapter Nineteen

JEFFERS ARRIVES TWENTY OR SO minutes later with an herbal tea concoction that sends me on my way to happy town. I don’t care that it’s causing me to feel a little bit loopy, because it’s also getting rid of the massive headache that was making me think a ten-hour nap was going to be the only thing able to keep me alive.

Gus walks onto the flightdeck as I’m taking the last sip of the slightly tree-barky flavored brew. “Good news! The vacuum cycle is finished!” He rubs his hands together. “And we’ve done a sweep of the PC Mahalo, and she’s all clean. Dead in the water except for a short-range link to the Anarchy.”

“What about the exercise equipment I asked you for? For the cargo bay?”

“Almost done. Just need another set of hands to finish up.” He looks over at Baebong. “You have a few minutes?”

Baebong gets up.

“Bae, when you’re done, do me a favor and go talk to Lucinda. See if there’s anything she needs help with.”

He nods, which is a nice surprise. I expected to get flack from him about turning him into a brownshins.

Baebong follows Gus out the door, leaving Jeffers and me alone. I put the cup down on the wide arm of my chair and smile at him. “Thank you, healer. That was just what I needed.”

His smile is not as warm as before. “I think what you need is more sleep.”

“That too. But no rest for the wicked, eh?” I stare at him, waiting to see if he’ll take me up on my invitation to judge me, to share his feelings about all the mistakes he thinks I’m making. I hate that my stomach tenses up in anticipation of receiving that information.

“Wicked? I wouldn’t call you wicked, Cass. Determined. Ruthless, maybe. But not wicked.”

A bitter laugh breaks free. “Ruthless? Excellent.” That’s exactly how people have described my father. It’s how
I
would describe him.

“What are you thinking right now?” Jeffers asks me, his head tilted very slightly.

I stare out the clearpanel before me. “Oh, I don’t know. That sometimes no matter how far and how fast you run from something, it’s always just right there next to you anyway. There’s no escaping it.”