by Tamsin Ley
Clusters of women had gathered at the tables in the back, and Noatak’s gaze came to rest on a stunning blonde. The holster on her hip made him raise an eyebrow. He’d met plenty of female soldiers during his service with the troopers, but she was by far the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Rounded curves some might call top-heavy, yet strong in posture. Perfect alabaster skin marked only by a crooked scar on her chin.
You’re not here to ogle the women, he reminded himself, turning to scan the rest of the room. Joy had hand-selected the applicants from the comments on her documentary, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any troopers or Syndicorp spies in the bar. Not to mention the crew of the Hardship had a cartel bounty on their heads since they’d rescued Lisa from the cartel’s clutches.
Assessing the other cantina patrons, he noted a round table that hosted three scantily clad humans he guessed were sex workers, two female and one male. In the far corner, a mousy-type Posungi female slouched nursing a drink, her pale orange facial tendrils writhing. At the nearest table, a pair of human women sat side-by-side, spines ramrod straight, ankles crossed, and hands clasped in their laps as if they awaited an interview at a bank.
He selected a chair facing the cantina entrance, his back to the mousy woman in the corner. While Joy ordered drinks, he allowed his gaze to drift back toward the woman with the pistol, taking brief note of the small brunette sitting across from her. Both women met his eyes without hesitation. The brunette smiled lightly, nodding once in greeting. The blonde didn’t smile, just took his measure. She wasn’t threatening, just watchful. Cautious. Poised.
Anaq, she could probably take you in a fight. How warped was it that his groin stirred at the idea?
He turned to Joy. “Start with the blonde over there.”
Joy shrugged one shoulder. “Fine by me.”
Meeting the woman’s tawny-eyed gaze once more, he crooked a finger to beckon her over. Her sculpted brows rose a fraction, then she whispered something to her friend and rose. Shoulders square, she strode toward him. From the sex-worker table, feminine voices complained they’d arrived first. He ignored them, watching the lithe way the woman moved. Her pale blonde hair was cut to shoulder length and gleaming.
Joy smiled brightly, gesturing toward the seat across from her. “We’re glad you decided to come.” She looked down at the polycom she’d pulled from her pocket. “I’m Joy, First Mate of the PV Kinship, and this is Noatak, First Mate of the PV Hardship. What’s your name?”
The blonde sat. “Marlis Swan.”
Frowning, Joy ran a finger over the screen. “I don’t have your name on my list.”
“I know.” Marlis gestured toward the small brunette she’d been sitting near. “She told me about the interview. I need a job.”
Instinct to use his ionic senses to measure her heart rate and breathing welled up inside Noatak. He wasn’t used to making choices without it, especially about someone this intriguing.
Joy turned to him in uncertainty, but he kept his eyes forward. If he couldn’t use his powers, he couldn’t afford to miss a single cue, especially since he wanted to hire this woman on the spot. He leaned in slightly, nodding toward her gun. “What kind of work you looking for?”
Marlis pulled the E-11 from her hip and set it on the table, muzzle pointed away from them. “I’m trained in small arms and some hand-to-hand. Best shot in my class.”
Pulling out the gun had been a bold move in the crowded bar. He liked it. She was straightforward. Honest. He slid a hand toward it. “May I?”
“Please.”
He lifted the weapon. “Blackstar E-11 zero-recoil.”
“Full-bore-plus with a custom trigger,” Marlis added with obvious pride. “I have other models, but this one’s my favorite.”
“Nice.” Noatak found himself nodding and handed the weapon back. “Where’d you train?”
Marlis took a deep breath and released it as if steadying for a sniper shot. “I come from a long line of Troopers.” She placed the gun back in its holster and lifted her chin slightly. “And before you ask why I’m not in the service, I’ll tell you. I blew up at my recruiter. Kinda ruined my chances.”
The hope that had been building inside Noatak took a nose dive. Captain Qaiyaan had specifically said to weed out anyone directly in service to Syndicorp or the Troopers, and here he was talking to a Legacy brat. You have to turn her away. Not a good sign for the very first interview.
Joy tilted her head, her camera eye contracting and expanding. “Why’d you blow up at your recruiter?”
“He wanted to turn drill practice into a history lesson.” Marlis wrinkled her nose. “Let’s just say I’m no good at history.”
Beneath the table, Noatak nudged Joy’s leg. This wasn’t a documentary, it was an interview, and if they expected to talk to all these women, they didn’t have time to play around. Hard as it was to pass Marlis over, Noatak forced his attention to the next applicant. “Sorry, Miss Swan. I don’t think we need any more hired guns right now.”
The tension in the air tasted like ozone, zinging against Noatak’s senses even without him engaging his ionic power.
Marlis balled her fists in her lap, then nodded once and returned to her seat near the petite brunette. Noatak realized he was watching her firm backside when Joy poked him and hissed in his ear. “Hired guns are exactly what we need.”
“Too dangerous. Her family’s corp’.”
“So? Mine is, too.”
She had a valid point; her mother was one of Syndicorp’s top CEOs—but that didn’t erase his captain’s orders. “She wasn’t even on your list. We didn’t and don’t have time to vet her. Running interviews for the Resistance right under Syndicorp’s nose is dangerous enough. Let’s move on.”
Joy shook her head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’m keeping her name for future reference.”
“Do what you like.” Noatak signaled to a woman with brilliant blue hair sitting at the sex-worker table. The three rose together, but Noatak shook his head. “One at a time.”
The second woman giggled, but she and the male sat down, allowing their blue-haired companion to approach. She jiggled in all the right places as she walked, taking a seat across from Noatak and leaning forward so her ample breasts rested on the tabletop. “Whatever you want, baby. I know how to play nice.”
Noatak crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat to escape the cloying scent of her perfume. “Name?”
After verifying the woman was on her list, Joy asked several questions, then raised an eyebrow at Noatak. To be honest, he’d only been half-listening to the interview. Marlis had put him on edge in more ways than one, and he was seriously thinking about doing business with that stim vendor near the door. He met the applicant’s half-lidded gaze. “You have any skills except for the obvious?”
Hardness rose in her eyes, her lips pressing into a grim line. She crossed her arms over her cleavage. “I gotta get off this station. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
Damn, he wished he could just ping her and be done with this. “You willing to leave your friends over there behind?”
Her nostrils flared, and she nodded. “Anything.”
“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.” He dismissed her.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Joy leaned over and glared at him. “Are you discriminating against sex workers, too?”
He shook his head. “It’s not her line of work I object to. She and her friends might act like they play nice together, but I suspect they’d stab each other in the back if the opportunity arose. Don’t need that kind of loyalty.”
Joy sighed and called the next woman over.
They continued the interviews while Noatak tried to keep his eyes off Marlis. Unfortunately, the only other place he wanted to look was the corner where the stim vendor sat, and the growing desire within him was consuming all rational thought. He could forget everything for a little while so easily. What are you waiting for?
They b
egan interviewing one of the amazingly boring bank women. Unable to take another obviously rehearsed answer, he rose. “Please excuse me a moment.”
With purposeful strides he moved toward the door, shouldering past the stim vendor and out of the confines of the cantina. If he didn’t get away from temptation, he would suffocate. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, breathing in the scent of roasted kemeg from a cart across the way.
Pull it together, Noatak. But the self-talk did little good. He was pissed. He wanted—needed—a distraction, and he needed it now.
As if in answer to his prayer, a gunshot cracked from inside the cantina, followed by screams and the distinctive zing from an E-11 pistol. He spun, realizing he’d left Joy alone. “Uminaq!”
The Yanipa-nimayu bouncer was blocking the door, his six stocky legs firmly planted firmly in Noatak’s way. Calling up an ionic pulse, Noatak thrust him aside and stepped through the doorway, pulse pistol drawn. Between the milling bar patrons, Joy moved toward him, her face pallid. The brunette who’d been next to Marlis supported her under one arm while Marlis flanked her other side, pistol leveled toward the rear of the bar. Blood splotched Joy’s light orange mechanic’s shirt and coated her fingers.
“What the fuck’s going on?” he asked as the trio reached him at the door. At the back of the cantina where they’d been sitting, people were shouting for medics.
“Just a scratch,” Joy said through gritted teeth, her face pale and beaded with sweat.
The petite brunette helping her said, “I have some medical training. I’ll get her to safety and check it out.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
Marlis paused beside him, still alert for trouble at the back of the bar. “That Posungi sitting behind her pulled an old-fashioned Bud-9 rimfire.”
“Aiming for Joy? Or was she caught in the crossfire?”
“No idea, but I took the Posungi down with a headshot.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think ballistic weapons were legal on a space station.”
He raised an eyebrow. “They’re not. The cartel uses them, though, because they’re concealable but not powerful enough to puncture hull plating.”
A crowd had gathered outside the cantina doors, peering cautiously inside. Station enforcers were shouting at people to get out of the way as they tried to push through.
He glanced around. “If the attack came from the cartel, we need to get off the station immediately. They all but own enforcement on this station.”
Marlis kept pace with him all the way back to the shuttle where she finally holstered her weapon.
“Thanks for the help,” he said.
She tilted her head. “Still not in the market for a hired gun?”
“Uminaq,” he grumbled. He owed her one, and he couldn’t just leave her here to face the cartel alone. Thrusting his pistol back into his belt, he held out a hand. “Welcome aboard the Hardship.”
Chapter Five
Marlis wanted to run through the corridors to retrieve her gear, but she forced herself to keep to a brisk pace, trying not to draw attention to herself. After a quick idiot-check of her bunk at the hostel where she’d been staying, she hurried back to Noatak’s shuttle with the reassuring weight of her rifle case against her back. She could hardly wait to call her sister to tell her the news. Who knew getting into a gunfight in a bar would be her ticket to the future? Her first ever live-fire combat had left behind an exhilaration that bordered on a drug, and Twerp hadn’t stopped buzzing, but she knew her racing pulse was elation, not stress. Let Dad try to stop me now.
She stowed her gear and settled into a nav-grav seat next to Emmy, who’d also been offered a place on the crew. Emmy looked shell-shocked and pale, her blouse still stained with Joy’s blood.
“You make a pretty good medic,” Marlis said, trying to cheer her new friend up. Through the open cockpit door ahead, she could see the edge of Noatak’s shoulder and muscular arm as he prepped to disengage from the station.
“Luckily her wound doesn’t appear to be life-threatening,” Emmy replied, strapping in. “I didn’t even see that Posungi coming. I’m glad you were there.”
Marlis grinned at the praise and shrugged. “Seems I excel at saving damsels in distress.”
Emmy laughed and pointed toward Marlis’s wrist. “You’re buzzing.”
Marlis sighed and looked at her wrist. “Calm down, Twerp. I’m fine.”
“I feel obligated to tell you there is a fourteen point two percent risk of this endeavor leading to human trafficking,” Twerp said. “I suggest removing yourself from this vessel at once.”
“You have an AI!” Emmy twisted in her seat to look closer.
Trying to sound nonchalant, Marlis said. “It’s just to remind me of appointments and stuff.”
Twerp emitted an offended chirp. “I am a Wenzix model 15B, designed to provide space-time orientation through integrated biometric feedback.”
Marlis clapped a hand over her wristband, muffling the AI’s voice. She glanced toward the cockpit, relieved Noatak or Joy didn’t appear to have heard. Would they change their minds if they knew about her condition? She couldn’t afford to lose this job due to an AI with a big mouth.
“I worked with a client who had a 15B during my internship.” Emmy raised her eyebrows. “Anger management issues.”
Marlis let out a controlled breath. “Please don’t mention it to anyone.”
Emmy seemed to consider a moment, then nodded. “Of course. That’s a cute name for an AI, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Twerp said brightly.
Grimacing, Marlis resisted the urge to bash her wrist against the nearest hard surface.
Emmy shifted her gaze to the cockpit, her amused expression shifting to worry. “I never considered we might be involving ourselves with slavers. They were only interviewing women.”
Marlis looked at Noatak’s broad shoulders and the way his muscles rippled beneath his thin shirt as he shifted in his seat to adjust controls. The alien practically oozed sexual tension, yet she didn’t get the sense he was skeevy. Not that her hormones would give one flicker of objection if he wanted to throw her down in a wrestling match, preferably a naked one. She tended to have a good sixth sense when it came to danger. “I don’t think Noatak’s the type to run a sex ring.” She patted her pistol against her hip. “And if he is, he’ll regret it.”
Outside the view screen, the pointed tip of one of the station’s many communication arrays slipped past as they entered open space. Noatak’s deep voice came over the comm. “Engaging burn.”
The slightly nauseating thrill of the shuttle’s drive rolled through her stomach. In what felt like a half a heartbeat, the cycle ended and the universe seemed to level out. Huh, short burn. They must not be too far from Noatak’s ship. What’d he say its name was? Her sister was bound to ask.
Twerp reported. “Marlis, you’ll be pleased to know your vitals have returned to acceptable levels.”
“Twerp, I don’t need a verbal report unless I’m in danger, okay?” Next time they stopped at a space station, she was buying a replacement earbud. She might not be able to shut the thing up, but she could restrict who heard its outbursts.
The cockpit’s view screen was filled with velvety, star-studded blackness, and it took a moment for Marlis to spot the small, half—moon-shaped body of a D-class space craft blocking the pinpricks of light, its battle-scarred hull painted a dull black. A slice of light appeared in the darkness as the cargo bay doors opened. Noatak guided the shuttle slowly inside, settling to the deck with a slight thump. Behind Marlis’s nav-grav seat, the shuttle’s hatch hissed open with a rush of unfamiliar scents.
Noatak swiveled in his seat to look at his passengers. “Welcome aboard the Hardship.”
Repeating the name to herself in hope of remembering it for later, she rose and retrieved her rucksack and weapons. One strap over each shoulder, she followed Emmy down the ramp to the deck. This was about to be her new home. Her new purpos
e. How many people were on the crew? She was going to have to remember names. Protocols. Who knew what else? She focused on her breathing, keeping her pulse under control. The last thing she needed was Twerp piping up right now.
Compared to the vastness of the carrier she’d grown up on, the ship’s tiny cargo bay felt almost cozy. The shuttle took up most of the space, butting up against a set of stairs connected to a grated catwalk overhead. A ginger-haired man with copper skin like Noatak’s pounded down the catwalk at a run, slammed both hands on the rail, and in one swift move launched up and over the edge. Marlis didn’t even have time to register shock before he landed gracefully on the deck in front of her.
“Hi! I’m Tovik!” He thrust an oil-stained hand toward Emmy, teeth gleaming in a self-satisfied grin.
Marlis blinked as the scent of flowery perfume wafted over her and stared at his bare feet. With that entrance, she wasn’t likely to forget his name any time soon. He was younger than Noatak, but just as tall, but in a gangly fashion that promised more muscles to come.
Emmy smiled warmly and set her suitcase down to shake his hand. “Emmy Quick.”
He turned to Marlis, and she accepted his handshake. “Marlis Swan.”
“Wow. This is exciting.” He continued pumping her hand and nodding, looking from Emmy to her as if he’d never before seen a human. Then he did a double-take at something behind her and dropped her hand. “What happened?”
Marlis turned to find Noatak descending the ramp, one arm around Joy’s waist. Guilt flickered in Marlis’s throat. A good crew member would’ve remembered to help.
Tovik surged forward and took up Joy’s opposite side, sliding an arm around her. “Anaq! Joy! Are you all right?”
Joy smiled wanly. “I’ll be fine as soon as Mek gives me some painkillers.”
Tovik’s brows drew together as he shifted his gaze to Noatak. “Kashatok’s gonna kill you.”
