Eyes whirled uncertainly, it being an awkward point with Huido to have traveled the M’hir so close to his wives’ return, but then he dipped his head. “And was a friend.” Huido paused after that toast, then gave the bell tone of grief. He poured beer into his handling claw and raised it. “To our other friends no longer with us, the brave Drapsk of the Heerala.” Instead of slurping the liquid, he trickled it over the metal hammer. The rest drank in silence, more than a few aware the ship’s fate had come close to being their own.
If any good came from the loss, Morgan thought, it was having a possible explanation for the mysterious disappearance of other starships over the years. The Rugherans and their actions had been recorded by every device the Conciliator carried, data already being analyzed. It wouldn’t be long before nav updates included notes on the risk of predation, as well as piracy.
Spacers might think it a joke; they’d still pay attention.
As for ’porting Plexis? The others who’d been there knew it had taken a partner who spent most of her time as a planet, and if that leaked out? Well, as Terk said, it’d make a fun vistape adventure.
“Finally,” Huido boomed, “To my blood brother and sister, Jason and Sira! May your love be an example to us all. Go find yourselves a pool!”
Those who didn’t know the truth laughed and applauded, along with the few still confused about why Huido kept calling Rael di Sarc by her sister’s name.
Those who did know avoided their eyes.
Sira rose to her feet, glass in hand. “To our host and brother,” she said simply, then added with a twinkle in her eyes, “you go first!”
Causing an uproar that caught even Huido by surprise, not that he was capable of blushing, for they all stood, Morgan starting the chant, “To the pool! To the pool!”
The massive Carasian hesitated, eyes torn between him and Sira, but this was the right exit, the carefree and happy one she asked for with a graceful sweep of her hand to the door, that tremulous smile.
Huido understood, as he always had. “Eat, drink, and don’t break the porcelain,” he ordered them all, eyes lingering on Morgan before clanging hammer to claw. “To my wives!”
Morgan noticed Tayno remained subdued. “You’ll have a pool of your own soon,” he said quietly. “You made quite the impression.”
Every eye winked out of sight between head disks.
“Oops,” Sira mouthed.
One at a time, the black orbs reappeared. “Hom Morgan,” sadly, “I cannot. There are absolute necessities. Success. Stability. Employment.”
Ah. The inhabitants of Plexis had seen two Carasian males. “Trust me, Tayno, most beings can’t tell the two of you apart,” Morgan said soothingly. “You can still impersonate Huido.”
“It’s not that.” Tayno attempted to whisper, but his voice grew louder with his woe. “I’ve critically overspent the restaurant’s budget. When he finds out, my esteemed uncle will have no choice but to fire me. He may have to fire all the staff, including poor Lones.”
Who, catching his name from the other end of the table, grinned and raised a glass.
“Overspent it how?” Sira looked puzzled. “I thought Plexis was covering the repairs.”
“That’s true.” The massive head tipped from shoulder to shoulder. “I shouldn’t like to say. You’ve saved us all.” Tayno straightened. “The Claws & Jaws honors your debt as our own.” Followed by a sad little, “And on top of everything, the new chefs might want to leave. Huido doesn’t know that yet, and we can’t afford their fare home either.” A rattle of pure despair.
Morgan frowned. “What ‘debt’?” He’d left none behind, well aware Plexis welcomed any opportunity to sneak in a charge, with interest, and worse, would consider what you owed as much a tradable commodity as anything in a store. Not to mention he’d been in another section of the galaxy—
“The rent was never paid on your apartment.” Tayno produced a crumpled plas sheet from a crevice in one arm, passing it to Morgan. “I received this from the deputy inspector.”
Definitely something wrong here. He’d always stayed with Huido; Sira, too. Nice address, though, Morgan noted, nothing fancy, but Level 5, spinward—
That rate? Jynet had done them a favor, bringing the bill to them instead of a collection agency, the sort that took body parts in lieu of payment. This would be outrageous for a grandie suite with full staff.
He passed the plas to Sira, whose eyebrows shot up. Something’s wrong, she agreed.
“Hom, Fem. Friends,” Tayno said. His claw reached for the plas. “Please do not think I’d ask you for the amount. Besides,” with touching frankness, “you don’t have a ship or a job.”
Sira gave a nod of understanding. “Barac and Ruti.”
“The landlord saw Bowman’s voucher and felt—inspired.” Morgan took the plas from Sira and went to put it in his pocket. “I’ll deal with it.”
Tayno attempted to snatch it back. “Hom—”
Not quick enough. Morgan closed the fastener. “Now, tell us why you think the chefs want to leave.”
With Tayno’s equilibrium restored, though not even a relieved Carasian should eat that many “Glider Goobles,” Morgan and Sira rose together to take their leave.
“Tell Bowman and Terk they missed a great party,” he told Finelle.
The Lemmick regarded her still-full plate doubtfully. “If you say so, Captain Morgan.”
“I say Terk is lucky to have you as a partner,” Sira said firmly, offering her hand. “Please tell him—tell the sector chief—tell them—” she faltered and sent Morgan a pleading look.
“Tell them,” he said, quiet and sure, “it has been a privilege.”
“I will.” The dip and wag of her pororus meant respect.
It could also, Morgan remembered, mean “the final farewell.”
Sira was right, Terk had an excellent new partner.
And quite possibly the Lemmick could help someone else. “Finelle, if your fourth-over-sixth uncle needs help with his new business venture, talk to Tayno. He could be looking for an extra source of income soon—and he has a fondness for fonts.”
“For—?” She thought better of asking. “I will, Captain Morgan.”
Nicely done, Sira sent, as they walked away. Tayno’s ready to make his own way.
There was that. I did it just as much for Huido, Morgan admitted. By the size of those feet, Tayno’s next molt could make him bigger.
Best not leave a threat to his blood brother’s pool too close.
Erin met them at the door, eyes bright with curiosity. “Morgan,” a nod. “Not Rael, I’m told. How’s that work?”
Sira didn’t quite smile. “It’s complicated.”
“I bet. Well, my offer to Captain Morgan is open to you, too. Sira.” A grin. “The Wayfarer’s ready to seek new adventures. You’re welcome aboard. And to tell me all about ‘complicated.’”
“Thank you, but it’s time I went home.”
How could she say the words so calmly?
“Fair Skies,” Erin said, her gaze shifting to Morgan. “Undock tomorrow, midday. Either we see you or we won’t.”
