Page 9 of Star Cruise Captain's Story

“Jake and Red are a tight team,” Owen said. “I only know a fraction of the things those two pulled off while on active duty but if anyone can make this rescue op a success, it’ll be them.”

Leaning over to plant a kiss on the top of Midorri’s head, Tyrelle addressed the pet with a laugh. “And you just want to be with us and have fun.”

“Luckily she thinks planting bombs in hidden spots in an enemy fortress is fun.” Owen joined them on the bed. “What do you get from Maeve?”

Brow wrinkled in a frown, Tyrelle shook her head. “Nothing.”

Eyes wide in surprise Owen repeated her comment. “Nothing?”

“I do get her love for the captain. The emotion and commitment are written all over her thoughts and aura,” Tyrelle said slowly. “But there’s nothing else. My sister was able to read things from a Mawreg, a being as dissimilar from us as can be, but whatever Maeve is, she’s not human and she has incredible shields. Like a Mellurean maybe. I can read only what she lets me see and that’s how she feels about Fleming.”

Owen mulled the information over for a minute or two before giving Tyrelle a sideways glance, mirth lifting his lips. “And me? Can you read what I’m thinking?”

She moved closer, dislodging Midorri from her lap. “Oh you’re an open book to me, Owen Embersson.” Arms around his neck, she shifted onto his lap. “You’re wondering how well this double bunk lends itself to vigorous activities of the intimate nature.”

“I vote we find out,” he said.

CHAPTER FIVE

Gil’s first job for Arturo Main came off smoothly. It was a feelgood run, loading and guarding a massive shipment of an extremely illicit drug even the tolerant Sectors had banned. Then he was invited to participate in a weapons smuggling trip, transporting a significant amount of armament to a terrorist group in the Hinterlands and bringing back counterfeit luxury goods for distribution in the mid Sectors where the people could be conned into paying premium prices for aspirational goods. The truly wealthy of the Inner Sectors knew better and the colonists on the frontier had no credits for upscale luxury items, not even fake ones.

As he was preparing the leave the ship after the final run, Gil was concerned he hadn’t been asked to work with Main for anything else. From the scuttlebutt he’d picked up onboard, as other crew members talked, there was a big score coming up and Gil was sure that had to be the hostage exchange. He was at a loss for what more he could do to get himself on the inside of the operation and as he hauled his gear and weapons to the ramp to leave the ship, he made plans for surveilling Main’s compound as best he could with his limited resources and investigate getting a one-man ship so he could fly to the Jlonngisystem himself if necessary. He wasn’t sure he had the credits available to swing buying his own ship without taking a risk and using his real identity to get access to his savings. Lost in his internal debate over his next moves, he didn’t realize he was being hailed until Main’s number three thug got directly in his path and shoved him.

“You must really need a drink. Or a fuck, considering how fast you’re walking,” the man said. “Been calling your name for the last three minutes.”

“Sorry, got a lot on my mind,” Gil said truthfully, sliding the knife he’d drawn into the scabbard on his thigh. “What’s up?”

“Arturo wants to see you and he don’t like to be kept waiting.” The thug pivoted to the corridor toward the individual cabins and walked away a few steps. “Leave your gear. No one’s gonna steal your stuff.”

Reluctantly abandoning his rucksack, not sure he trusted his fellow criminals to leave his unguarded possessions alone, Gil followed. He tried to strategize what he’d do if this meeting went badly but there weren’t a lot of good options. From all indications Main was satisfied with his performance but in the criminal world where he now lived it was easy to put a foot wrong, insult someone, be accused of committing an offense…the list was endless and the ‘justice’ was usually swift and merciless.

Once he entered the boss’s cabin on the heels of the minion, Gil relaxed fractionally. Main was seated at a desk, working on his handheld and glanced up at the interruption.

“Found him, boss,” the lackey said. “Trying to leave the ship.”

“The job was done, no reason to stay,” Gil answered reasonably. “I didn’t think you encouraged anyone to loiter.”

“Smart guy,” Main said. “I like that about you, Favor. Listen I need you to sign on for another run, leaving right away.”

“More knockoffs for the upwardly mobile?” he asked, hoping he was wrong. “Job was a piece of cake. Easy credits.”

“No, something much more serious this trip but I figure you’re ready for it. We’ll be taking on certain…live cargo…and delivering it to the buyer.” Main studied him. “We’ll be in Jlonngi territory to do the drop-off, is that a problem?”

“As long as no one tries to recruit me into their screwy religion while we’re there, I’m good.” Gil had a hard time hiding his excitement. This had to be the hostage exchange he’d been waiting for. “The usual pay?”

“Plus a bonus once the job is done. This is really big.” Eyes narrowed, Arturo studied him. “You sure you can handle live cargo? No scruples gonna get in the way? My other guys have done this type of run before but you’re new to us.”

“I’ll be on the outside of the cage and the one with a blaster—I’m good.” Gil knew from his research that Main had involvement in human trafficking, which he found utterly abhorrent, but he wasn’t here to take the gang down for the crime or any other reason. He was here to rescue Daveed and he had to stay focused and play his part as an easy going thug with no scruples.

The gang boss seemed satisfied with Gil’s flippant response, which he’d accented with a wink at the minion as if he and Quint were buddies. Luckily the burly man chuckled, lessening the tension. “All right, stow your gear back in your bunk and settle in. It’ll be a two day flight to the pickup point. Got my supplier bringing in cargo to the rendezvous. That’s all for now.” Main resumed his previous preoccupation with whatever he was doing on the handheld.

The thug slapped Gil’s upper arm. “You can go.”

“I hope my gear is still there,” Gil said with a frown as he headed for the door.

“Haven’t you heard of honor among thieves?” the guy asked with a raised eyebrow and lips quirked.

“Yeah, not on this crew. You’ve got some seriously warped guys, in case you weren’t aware.” On that note, Gil stepped into the corridor and hastened toward the spot where he’d had to abandon his rucksack. It was there but had obviously been opened and gone through. With a sigh, he gathered up the belongings which had spilled onto the deck and stuffed them into the sack, sealing it shut. He hadn’t had anything incriminating or valuable with him but the idea of his unsavory associates ransacking his few possessions and no doubt laughing as they did so sent his temper soaring.

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