Chapter 10
Vanessa
“I’m sorry—what now? I didn’t request a transfer,” Van said.
“Not my call, Acosta. You’re a good worker, but you should pack your bags,” Gabe said, slumping forward, his elbows resting on the worn desk.
“Yeah, well it was someone’s call.” Transfers did not magically appear out of thin air. They were requested and denied and requested again. Given the events last week, she had been scouring the company’s job postings, looking for a transfer off the death-trap of a moon, but pickings were slim. Wishful thinking did not get transfers. “I don’t understand. I have two years left on my contract.”
Gabe’s eyes softened for a moment. “Look, Van, I don’t know what to tell you. Someone with enough money and enough influence requested you. Not just any technician. Specifically, you.”
Money and influence. She had her answer and the punishment from the thrice-denied question. She refused to leave with Jaxar and be his bride, so he’d found a different way to force her to go with him.
“And where are you sending me?” she asked.
“Some Mahdfel vessel.” Gabe checked his tablet for the information. “Judgment.”
Jaxar’s ship.
“Doing what?” She hesitated to ask, not sure if she wanted to know what made-up nonsense job Jaxar arranged for her.
“Algae Fuel Cell Specialist.”
“Oh.” Had she mentioned her job to Jaxar? There didn’t seem to be much time for talking with the bomb blasts and the concussion—and the kissing. Then again, she downright stank of algae when they met and there was basically only one way to smell like you took a long swim through an algae tank.
It was amazing he wanted to kiss her at all.
She looked down at her tightly gripped hands in her lap. Back on the job for a day and already her fingers were stained green. Jaxar wouldn’t have needed a ton of investigation to figure out why the company paid her salary.
“I guess the Mahdfel are too high and mighty to clean their own filters,” Gabe said.
“Each warrior serves his clan to the best of his ability. There is no dishonor in medicine or piloting or growing the food that fuels the clan,” she replied, the words rolling off her tongue before her mind caught up with her mouth. Havik had repeated that sentiment so often that she parroted it without thinking, which was another layer of annoyance in a vexing situation.
His eyes went wide. “I didn’t think you were one of those. I mean, I knew about,” he wiggled his fingers at his neck, “but you really drank the Kool-Aid.”
She didn’t know what Kool-Aid was but understood from the context. “I’m not, but they did just save our hides and gave us a shield generator that covers the whole damn crater,” she said, knowing that large-scale shields were so complicated to install correctly that most people claimed they were impractical. “They stayed because of the sickness, which they did not have to do.”
Unspoken was the fact that the outbreak only happened because the company cut corners to increase profit. A few sick employees were nothing unless it affected quarterly earnings.
“What the hell is Kool-Aid?” she finally asked.
“I have no idea.” Gabe glanced back down at the tablet. “They wanted you to report to your new posting in twenty-four hours—”
“That’s not enough time!” Irritation rushed through her, sharp and brittle. It seemed no matter where she went, someone else had control over her destiny. Okay, that was a touch dramatic but certainly her life and her ability to make her own choices.
“I know. You’re leaving in three days. Do what you have to do, Acosta.”
“He can’t do this,” she said.
“It’s already done. Don’t waste energy on what you can’t change.”
She gave an exasperated huff. Tears of frustration pricked at the corner of her eyes, but she was a grown woman and refused to cry in front of her boss. Once again, her right to make her own choices had been taken away. Sure, the Vel Mori moon sucked and the company was shady as hell, but it was her choice to work for a shady company on a crappy moon. Hers.
“Listen, you’re still employed by the company, only you’re stationed on a Mahdfel vessel now. Nothing’s changing,” Gabe said.
He was so wrong. Everything was changing.
One year living on the moon, and Van did not have a lot to pack. The furnishing, as battered and worn as they were, came with the bungalow. She had her clothes, a few sets of sheets, a down pillow because regular pillows felt like concrete, some books, a few family photos, and her tools. Everything packed away easily into three boxes and a suitcase, which made her feel like a failure of an adult for not personally supporting capitalism and spending all her wages on clutter.
Esme had been the one to decorate their shared house and made the space cozy and inviting. She had her fungi, of course, growing like a jungle, but she also bought candles, pillows to make the sagging couch comfortable, and even bought lavender-scented soap for the bathroom so their hands didn’t have to smell like industrial cleaner all the time. If left to her own devices, Van would totally smell like antiseptic lemon and pine floor cleaner.
She remembered cramming as many potted plants into her tiny room at the orphanage as possible. On her first post-orphan birthday, she had been given an African violet, because the staff knew she liked plants. She loved plants and gardening. Her dad had a green thumb and grew vegetables in the backyard and flowers in the front. She spent so many weekends pulling weeds and getting dirt under her nails, but she loved it. She loved watching seeds sprout and push through the soil. She loved gathering the lettuce they grew and having the freshest possible salads. She liked that the sun turned her normally tawny skin a warm terra-cotta brown, because it was the same shade as her mother.
After her mother died and her father vanished, her plants were a connection to those memories. She took that African violet to college, repotting into bigger planters when needed, so desperate to keep that connection alive.
Then she was matched to Havik. Van did not think to take the plant with her to the testing facility because, to be honest, the chances of being matched were super low and she didn’t want to feel like an idiot hauling around her luggage and a plant. It had been sent to her eventually, but it did not survive the trip. It arrived withered in a shattered pot.
Van had thought she might rebuild her collection with samples from the alien planet, Rolusdreus. The planet had a very harsh environment and much of the habitable land was a desert. Radiation levels were too high for her to go outside the compound. Everything that came inside went through a decontamination process. Only the hardiest specimens survived, but Havik had brought her some interesting samples.
In the end, it didn’t matter. She was gone in little more than a year, then back to Earth and gone again, and then to the Vel Mori moon. Each move had her shedding more possessions until she finally stood with one suitcase and a few boxes, a transient woman with a disposable life.
“This transfer doesn’t make sense,” Esme said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Boxes of tea and coffee cluttered the work surface, along with Van’s favorite mug proclaiming her to be the “World’s Okayest Employee.”
“Yeah, well, a shady company is gonna be shady.” There was no reason for the Mahdfel to need Van or her skills. Jaxar’s scheme to get her on his ship was obvious and desperate. Money changed hands and Van knew exactly how eager the Vel Mori Holding Company was to have its palms greased. Sucked being traded like a commodity, though. Again. The Mahdfel, even when they were trying to do the right thing, treated her like a possession.
“I’m going to miss you, but I won’t miss all this.” Van waved to the worn-out kitchen with dingy cabinets and flickering lights.
“This lap of luxury?”
“Mainly you.” Van had been less than thrilled when she learned she had been assigned a roommate, but she liked Esme. They were friends.
Esme gave a weak smile and looke
d away, focusing on filling a small box with the mug and assorted teas. If she blinked and swiped at her eyes, Van ignored it.
A knock sounded. It was time.
Jaxar and another Mahdfel warrior with gray hair collected her things and carried them to the shuttle waiting outside.
“Drink plenty of water, not just coffee,” Esme said, giving her a hug. “And socialize. Don’t hide away in your cabin.”
Van had a feeling that hiding away like a recluse would be impossible. Jaxar wouldn’t allow it.
“Oh! Take Rocky.” Esme dashed off and returned quickly with a potted mushroom. A vibrant amethyst, it had tightly packed frills and resembled a cluster of carnations.
“Rocky?”
“He’s a rockmoss webcap.” Esme sniffed. “Lots of water. Low light. He likes cooler temperatures.”
“Wet, dark, and cold. The ideal roommate,” Van said, accepting the fungus before another hug. A few more tears fell because Esme was about the only good thing on that stupid moon, and Van found herself standing outside her ex-bungalow, reluctant to leave.
Jaxar
Jaxar waited with the shuttle, working hard to make his lean against the shuttle’s exterior look casual. Terran and Sangrin civilians wandered by, tossing curious glances his way but never staring for too long. One male with slicked-back hair and puffy face looked a moment longer than polite. Jaxar smiled, displaying his fangs.
The male paled and scurried toward the administrative building.
“No, wait, I am friendly,” Jaxar said, baffled. He practiced his smile in the reflection of the building’s glass windows, stretching his lips to display as much of his teeth as possible. “Oh. I see it now.” Perhaps the gesture was not as friendly as he thought.
Practice ceased when Vanessa exited the building, the forced grimace replaced with a genuine smile.
The male deliberately bumped her shoulder as they passed on the pavement. Jaxar growled, ready to abandon his casual, carefree facade.
“Got something to say?” His mate turned to face the male, hiding her facial expression but her body tensed as if preparing for a fight.
“Hey, Acosta. I heard you got a new gig lying on your back for the Mahdfel.” The male grinned as if he had said something clever. “But you’re used to that.”
Jaxar growled, louder this time. Vanessa looked at him. The male grabbed her wrist. Jaxar tensed, ready to tear the male to pieces for daring to touch Vanessa. “I’m talking to you.”
Van yanked her arm away, but his grip held tight. “Are you completely stupid, Teddy?”
Teddy gave a sleazy grin. “That’s not very nice, Vanessa. You wouldn’t want me to report you, now, would you?”
Jaxar pushed himself off the shuttle. No more nice alien.
Vanessa glanced back at him again and shook her head. Her message was clear: she would handle the situation.
“I suggest you let go of me,” she said, giving her arm a shake. The male held tight.
“Or what? I just wanted to give you a proper send-off, sweetheart.” This male had to be a dumbass with zero sense of self-preservation.
Vanessa jerked her head toward Jaxar. “He can hear us.”
Jaxar gave his best smile, the one he had been practicing.
Color drained out of the face of the male known as Teddy.
Perfect. Worth the practice.
“That oaf doesn’t know what’s happening. We’re just two friends having a friendly chat,” the male said. While his words were foolish, he did have the common sense to drop his grip on Vanessa.
“He can hear you,” she said, her voice clear despite facing the opposite direction.
Teddy looked back to Jaxar, still leaning casually against the shuttle. “He’s too far away.” Then the fool placed a hand on her shoulder. He had the nerve to touch Jaxar’s mate.
“They can hear our hearts beating. Trust me, Jaxar heard every word you said and the only reason he’s not here breaking your hand is that my heartbeat is steady.”
Teddy looked down at his hand on her shoulder and moved it away quickly, like it burned him. He had some sense of self-preservation, after all.
“I’m surprised you’re still here. I thought for sure you’d pull another vanishing act,” Vanessa said, her voice growing sweet.
Jaxar knew a trap when he heard one. The male, however, did not.
“What do you mean? I ain’t going anywhere,” Teddy said.
“Well, you have all those bench warrants. I noticed you’re violating your parole, too. All those court dates must be confusing, so I sent a message to the Sangrin authorities. I’m sure they’ll help you get a handle on your schedule.”
The male scoffed. “Like they care about warrants from Earth. Nice try, Acosta, ya snitch.”
“You’re probably right.” She sighed dramatically, letting her shoulders slump as if defeated. “But you stole a lot of money from the wrong people and I’m sure they’ll be interested in where to find you.”
“What did you do?” He stepped back, his complexion pale and bloodless.
“You did this to yourself,” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You’re a bully and a creep. I should have reported you for sexual harassment, but I didn’t want to make trouble. But you just wouldn’t let it go, would you?”
“Is this about the video? Holy crap, Acosta, you’ll get me killed for a damn joke!”
“It wasn’t a damn joke and you know it. How long do you think it’ll take them to get here? How much money did you steal?”
He licked his lips. “Look, it was supposed to be thirty grand. No one gets upset about thirty grand, but my partner took too much and then he spent it! I didn’t know.”
“A week? Two?” Another dramatic shrug. “I guess we’ll find out. I reported you a week ago.”
“You bitch!” The male raised his hand.
Jaxar had his pistol out, trained on the male’s head. Vanessa stepped to the side, giving him a clear shot. “Do not,” he warned.
The male stumbled as he retreated. “You’ve killed me. Killed me! I hope you can live with yourself.”
Vanessa stood tall, the hunter watching her prey scurry away. Pride surged through Jaxar at the capable female. He had witnessed her calmness as they worked side by side with her under Suhlik fire. Now he witnessed her triumph over a foe with only words.
Words.
He was a fortunate male to know such a female.
Vanessa ran a hand through her short auburn hair and approached the shuttle. She pushed past him, knocking shoulders.
“Video?” he asked.
Vanessa
“Oh, you can shut the fuck right up,” she snapped. Her stuff had been loaded while she got the final signatures on her transfer. Rocky had been carefully buckled into a seat.
“What video?” Jaxar asked again, an idiotic grin spread wide on his face.
“Ugh, that’s terrible. Stop making that face.”
“This is my regular face.”
“You’re making my argument for me.”
He continued to smile, like they were friends, sharing jokes and teasing each other.
“You’ve met humans before, right? Can you just not read our body language or facial expressions? Stop smiling because this is not fun for me.” She tossed herself into a seat as far back from the pilot’s chair as possible.
His grin finally faltered. “I’ve met many Terrans. I was on Earth during the Invasion.”
“That’s not the point.” She tugged on the safety harness, but the strap had twisted. “Ugh. What’s wrong with this thing?”
“Allow me—” He reached for the strap and she pushed his hand away.
“I don’t need your help,” she said, letting the strap retract and tugging it back down again.
“Your mood is less than optimal.”
Van forgot about the uncooperative safety harness. “Please tell me you’re not really that dumb.”
“What is the cause of your distress?”
“You asked me to run away with you three times and three times I told you no.”
“Your reasons were unacceptable.”
Van yanked on the harness again. It snapped out of her hand and flew back, cracking loudly against the frame. She wanted to yell at him, to scream until she was red in the face and maybe throw Rocky at his dumb face but that would be unfair to Rocky, a good rockmoss who did not deserve to be punished like that. Besides, Jaxar was effectively her supervisor for the next two years. They didn’t have to be best friends, but she should hold her tongue. Life on the Vel Mori moon sucked donkey balls and the new position came with a pay bump. She had lived with the Mahdfel before; she could do it again.
“I’m not your mate. Or your girlfriend or paramour or whatever you want to call this.” She waved a hand between them. “I’m not your friend. I’m your employee. That’s our relationship.”
His plum complexion paled, the color fading to lavender. “You are unhappy,” he said, as if the thought had never occurred to him that she would not enjoy being strong-armed into his schemes.
Another Mahdfel climbed into the shuttle. “Are we ready? Oh, what is wrong? Do you require medical attention?”
“I’m fine,” Van said. “Just get me the hell off this moon.”
Chapter 11
Vanessa
The great thing about algae is that absolutely no one is interested in algae. It could do lots of fascinating stuff—she wouldn’t go so far as to call it cool, but whatever. A person desperate enough could even eat it, but not the strain in her tanks. Nope. That shit was one hundred percent biofuel and toxic. However, no reasonable person just stopped by her dungeon in the bowels of the ship because they were interested in maximizing the efficiency of biofuels. Each of them wanted a gander at the woman Jaxar dragged on board. It sucked being a curiosity, but at least the majority were honest about it and she had plenty of people to ask the standard new crew member questions.
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