“I don’t know who you are. Don't know what you're worth. These are both good things for you. “
A footstep sounded at the hatch.
“She’s awake?” Tika chose that moment to return. Rising, Kestral returned the equipment he'd been using to the tray. His hands were covered with the other woman's blood. Tika circumvented him to get hurried over and pulled the blanket up over the woman. “Hello.”
“Thank you,” their patient murmured, her voice was bleak and fading. “Don’t send me back. Just kill me.”
“We’re not going to kill you,” Tika promised, then she sealed her fate. “We’re not sending you back, either. You can stay here. With us. You'll be safe.”
“You don't get to make that decision.” Shaw's voice cut through the room and Kestral shook his head. The sound of the captain’s boots on the deck alerted him a moment before he spoke. Tika jumped as though scalded.
“Capt.…”
The captain held up a single finger. She went silent. The fierce look on his face and the quiet anger in his gaze that he directed directly at Kestral didn't bode well for his continued good health. “Out.”
Tika opened her mouth to object, but Shaw didn't give her the chance. He took her by her arm and all but shoved her out the door. “Go take a shower, clean up. Then we'll talk.”
Finished with her, Shaw closed the hatch then rounded on Kestral. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Damsel in distress.” Was the best he could come up with on short order. For all of his laid-back attitude and almost Zen-like demeanor, Shaw possessed a level of ferocity and determination that had Kestral minding his manners. Of course, the fact that the man had held a gun to his head with the option to scatter Kestral’s brains across the wall nothing to do with it.
Blowing out a breath, Shaw stomped over to the bed and glanced down at the woman. His gaze didn't change one iota, even as the weakened thing opened her eyes again to stare up at him.
“Don't send me back,” she repeated as though on a loop. “Just kill me.”
“Son of bitch. What the hell happened to you?”
“My name is 9-A. Assigned to facility 11411. Please don't send me back. Please just kill me.”
Kestral didn't recognize the reference. Then again he made it a point to avoid the Order of the IV, so why would he? At Shaw's questioning look, Kestral shook his head.
“Talk,” Shaw ordered him. “You know something.”
Yes, he knew something. But if Shaw proved to have as much of the bleeding heart as Tika did, they were doomed. “It's the gray clothing. Order of the IV. They’re criminal rehabilitation facility. A religious order, mixed with science a little bit of politics, none of which is ever good. They have facilities on a dozen worlds and arrangements with a dozen other governments. The Order of the IV moves and no one else interferes. It just doesn't end well for anyone involved.”
“And she is one of their adherents?”
“No, I'm guessing she's one of their incarcerated.”
Shaw sighed. The tension seemed to radiate and fill the room. “And let me guess, Tika wanted to save her.” It really wasn't a question.
“She wanted to take care of her right there in the street. You're lucky I was there. Made sure your lady friend got back on board safe and sound. The only way to do that was to bring that on board.”
“It's not a that, it's a woman. And I don't know anything about her, or what she did.” So what bothered the captain more, Kestral had to wonder. That they didn’t know anything about her or what she had done?
Kestral shrugged. “Give her a blood transfusion, some antibiotics, and as soon as she is awake, we dump her on whatever backwater planet you plan to visit next.” He almost wanted to laugh at the doubt and scorn in Shaw's expression. Yeah, he didn’t think Tika would go for it either. Maybe a little push wouldn't hurt. “You want to remind her who the captain is? “
“Do you want me to remind you who the captain is?”
No, not particularly. As far as Kestral was concerned, he knew exactly who the captain was. The captain had the final say on the shock shackle on Kestral's wrist however, that didn't mean it was okay for him to not make the final decisions.
“Do it,” Shaw ordered. “Give her what she needs. I will put a shackle on her and restrict to this room. It could be worse.”
Kestral shook his head and went to work. “How can it get any worse than this?”
The entire side of the ship rocked as a concussive blast hit. Kestral fell against the wall as Shaw stumbled to brace himself. The captain scowled at him. “You just had to ask that question, didn't you?”
Yeah, Kestral sighed, he had, hadn't he?
A second blast rocked the ship, and Shaw took off from the quarters. His boots slammed against the deck as he made it to the ladder to the cockpit and the hatch opening hissed through the corridor. When alarm went off, in the ship's computer came online, “Captain, we are under attack.”
Kestral almost laughed. Because, really, could you be more obvious?
When a third blast rocked the ship, he righted the tools he needed, and rode the waves as he stumbled back over to the bed. 9-A’s eyes were still open.
“We’re going to give you a blood transfusion, as soon as the computer can tell me what your blood type is. Also going to give you a couple of injections of antibiotics, and a pain suppressor. Do you have any allergies?”
It really didn’t matter if she did have allergies. He had limited options as to what was available to give her, but it seemed like a fair thing to ask.
Bewilderment filled her eyes, but they couldn't disguise the hint of cunning gleaming beneath the surface. Yeah, Kestral knew her type. She might be in need, and even a little on the desperate side, but she knew a good thing when she saw it. And she knew at her ticket rode on the waves with Tika. Which was why Shaw had kicked her soft little ass out of the room. “I don't have any allergies that I know of. Please don't…”
“Got it don't send you back, just kill you. No problem. Except if I kill you, I'm going to upset Tika, which will piss off the captain. He might kill me this time. Currently, their wants mean more to me than yours. So, shut up.”
He jabbed the needle into her biceps then a second and third in rapid succession. She gave a little hiss at each injection. It was the sadist in him, he could have given her the pain suppressor first. But he didn't.
“Here we go.” Rising he caught himself as the ship rocked again and then the engines came online. They weren’t going to ride out the attack, they were leaving. Guess 9-A got her free ride of EA-2187.
Concussive blast after concussive blast rocked the ship as the thrusters fired below them. Metal sheared against metal, and the groaning added to the Gilly’s shudders. Oops, there went the docking clamps. Kestral made his way back over to the bed, then used his belt to make a makeshift strap to secure the woman. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t respond to his tightening the belt. Whether she was playing at it or had actually passed out, Kestral didn’t care.
Gravity worked against him as the ship accelerated. Kestral made it as far as the wall, and then slid down to brace his feet against the bed frame. It was the best he could do without being in an actual belted seat. Leaning his head against the wall, he closed his eyes and rode it out.
Which really sucked. He hated not being in charge of his own fate
The launch might actually belong in the category of worst ever, Kestral decided. Concussive blasts rocked them from side to side, amplifying the ship’s rocking, and forcing him to hold on or risk being thrown around the room. Hopefully the ship could withstand the pounding. His stomach protested the sudden spin, and Kestral locked his hand on the frame. He was hanging from the ceiling as they hurtled higher, and higher.
There was a split-second transition as they left the planet between having gravity and not having gravity before the gravity drives aboard the ship kicked in and the pressure on Kestral evaporated. Whether they were in orbit or
on their way to their next destination, Kestral didn't really care. He could stand again, and his internal organs seemed to settle.
“So,” he said to the unconscious woman as he smoothed his hair. “We’re not taking you back. Jury still out on whether or not we’re going to kill you.” Then he dropped down to a more comfortable position, leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
Apparently, he was still on babysitting duty.
* * *
They maintained the status quo for the next two days, until they arrived at a planet Kestral actually didn't recognize. The captain had actually allowed him access to the cockpit so he could see the star charts, but even after going over them, he didn't recognize the system, the planets, or the beacons. The captain consulted with Zed, but despite the scan showing life forms, population and a spaceport, it didn't appear in anything the captain had as far as records.
Tika proved even less help, her knowledge of the colonial world's limited to one or two systems closest to the Greek planet states she hailed from. For the first time since Kestral came aboard, the captain consulted both of them on whether or not to make an attempt at landing at the unrecognized planet to seek repairs for the Gilly. Zed reported heavy damage from the concussive blasts on external hulls, sensor arrays, and one of the thrusters.
“I trust your judgment,” Tika said recusing herself from the discussion. It was a nice way to cover her own ass, except Kestral knew she meant exactly the way she said it. She trusted the captain.
Shaw looked at him, but Kestral shrugged. “We can get closer, take further scans, and you can land. The problem is that if we don't know what's down there, we don't know what to expect, and we don't know if it's hostile or friendly.”
“Yeah, that's my thought, too.” Shaw tapped a knuckle against the control panel. “So far, since I got here, I haven't noticed any kind of interplanetary military or police force. See local security at the different ports, local constables dealing with local crimes on the planets. Do they have anything that moves in between?”
Kestral chuckled. “That's what bounty hunters are for. The kind of operation and cooperation required to field a heavy duty military force between multiple worlds… Doesn’t exist out here.” He should know since, at one point, his own father had tried to organize such a militia, and had proven quite successful in recruiting from several planets. Of course his definition of a militia actually turned into a pirate operation, but who was Kestral to judge?
“All right, here's the deal,” Shaw said a decisive note in his voice as he kept his gaze on the controls . “We’re going to dock. Everyone else stays on board. I'll take a look around, get the lay of the land.”
Tika folded her arms with a somewhat mutinous expression in her eyes, so Kestral couldn't help needling her, “I thought you trusted his decisions.”
Her nose wrinkled she stuck her tongue out at him. The occasional dissents and childish behavior amused the hell out of them. Maybe there was a reason Shaw kept her around. “I guess I should head back down and check on our guest.”
Before he could move, Tika rose and said, “I'll do it.” She scampered down the ladder and out. Unfortunately her course took her right past Kestral and the shock shackle zapped him. Grimacing, he rubbed his arm. The rate he was going, he was starting to get a good feeling for what cattle felt like when they were being driven to the slaughter.
“I'll dial that down some,” Shaw offered without looking at him. “Give it a two second delay. That should give her enough time to run past you without sending you into cardiac arrest.”
Two seconds. Kestral nodded, he could accomplish a great deal in two seconds. The closer the Gilly drew to the planet, the more readouts came through from the scanners. Nearly a third of the planet surface was covered by interconnected megacities. The population numbered 96 million.
How the hell had they gotten that big, that fast?
How would he never heard about this place?
“Captain, we are receiving a signal from the planet. Requesting ID and registry.”
“Go ahead and answer them Zed,” Shaw ordered. “But only list me. Original papers only.”
“Confirmed, Captain.”
At least the computer didn't argue with him when he wanted to lie to the dock masters. On the other hand, computers maintained any number of sets of data. If the planet had good scanners, they might even be able to penetrate the shields on the ship.
“Even if they do, even if they scan us, I can use Thunder and Lightning as a distraction.”
Fair point. He was transporting livestock. Kestral actually wondered if the livestock transport was on his registry, or if he simply kept them for himself. Didn't make much sense to him, not when they were worth so much money. On the other hand, the captain carried a number of supplies in the hold which would all fetch a pretty penny on some of the smaller worlds. Medical supplies alone would set him up like a king.
“Landing access granted, coordinates received. “
“Surrendering control to you, Zed. Take us in.” Shaw settled into his seat before the flight control panel, so Kestral claimed Tika’s abandoned position. The descent was slow, steady and relatively calm even as they entered the planet’s atmosphere and gravity. The light shuddering was nothing compared to the beating they'd taken leaving EA-2187. The screens in front of Kestral began to list a series of facts about the planet below, everything from atmosphere composition, to percentage of water surface to land mass. In fact the scanner seem to be mapping the surface, detailing the megacities, and the population. The sheer volume of data the ship gathered just on the descent surprised him. Another fact to file away about the captain and his mysterious reasons for journeying through this part of colonial space.
He wasn’t a merchant. He wasn't military. So what was he up to?
More importantly, how could Kestral profit?
Docking proved exceptionally uneventful. From the lounge, Kestral monitored Shaw’s meeting with security and the dock master. The gatekeepers glanced at the ship twice, and one of the security guys actually ventured toward the ramp, but he didn't board.
Search and seizures weren't that unusual, but even the most corrupt officials had to have a reason, manufactured or otherwise. Whatever Shaw said to them seem to allay their suspicions, because the ramp to the Gilly closed. The captain then headed into the main portion of the spaceport. Tika hadn’t emerged from Nina’s room. She probably lingered, getting another sob story so she could take up her cause.
Kestral debated whether or not that was his problem. He didn't think so except…she’d been alone with her long enough. Nina could have knocked her out, beat her up, and taken off with her.
“Zed, confirm Tika is still aboard.”
“Confirmed.” Hey, look the ship actually answered him. His circumstances were already improving.
Now came the time to wait. One hour became two. Tika made an appearance—long enough to tell him she was fixing salads in the kitchen services. He turned down her offer because vegetables were what food ate. He was strictly a meat man.
Two hours stretched to three. Then four. Then five.
Shaw finally reappeared on the platform with another man. They stood outside the ship for a good hour, pointing, discussing, then finally shaking hands. The other man turned and returned to the spaceport while Shaw came aboard.
The next twenty-four hours passed in agonizing slowness. Or maybe it was his agonizing boredom. Nina—Tika refused to call her 9-A—slept, still recovering from her injuries. Tika remained with her, making sure she had everything she needed from water for washing her face, to just simply being present. Damn, that girl needed a hobby. Shaw's return to the vessel was brief, only lasting long enough to inform him that an engineer would be showing up to perform repairs on the Gilly, as well as the external sensor array.
Apparently, this wasn't the first time the device had given the captain trouble. Shaw wanted the women locked down, and Kestral out of sight.. He wanted th
e girls to stay on lockdown, and Kestral to stay out of sight. Which was why Kestral was currently tucked between two of the storage boxes in the hold, watching as Vega Storm, the engineer Shaw hired, went to work on a control panel which led to one of the sensor array. Yes, Kestral was more than capable of staying out of sight and maneuvering his way through the ship without being seen. He could keep an eye on the engineer while the girls stayed locked down in the quarters for Nina.
Tika hadn’t been fond of the plan, however Shaw hadn't given her an option. Kestral gave her even less when he secured the hatch from the outside. If Kestral could find her on a backwater planet, then in a place like this… There had to be more than one bounty hunter out there. Of that, Kestral had no doubt. Vega, on the other hand, proved interesting to watch. The man moved with absolute economy, using no more effort than absolutely necessary to accomplish his tasks. He seemed thoughtful, examining every part—both those he inserted in those he removed. One device he taken out look like a compressor. Instead of replacing it, however, he simply repaired the item then slipped it back into place. Once he’d locked it in, he pulled out a small data device and tested it.
Simply watching the engineer wasn't all that entertaining. Kestral would much rather have been out following Shaw, seeing what he was up to. Considering how much the captain loved to ship, the fact that he'd allowed a stranger on board to handle the repairs and trusted someone like Kestral to look after it either indicated and the man had a much deeper faith in humanity than Kestral did… or he was an idiot.
Maybe he simply knew something Kestral didn't. The bounty hunter—or, as he like to refer to himself, the acquisitions manager—really hoped it was the latter and not any of the former. When Vega disembarked via ramp, Kestral continued to monitor his progress, wanting to see when he would come back because the ramp remained down. He'd moved up atop the ship, probably looking at some of the concussive damage. Interestingly, the man didn't work with drones, which would make his work far simpler. Nope, he was out there doing it with his hands.
Space Cowboy Survival Guide Page 12
