Page 26 of Savage Union

Ididn’t know what to think of the interaction I’d had with Turk on the bridge. It was clear he didn’t recognize me—which was a relief. But for a moment, when he was holding my arm to keep me safe during the worm hole jump, I’d almost felt like he cared for me…or for the boy he thought I was.

But then he had gone cold again and told me not to presume too much, so I decided I was probably just imagining things. After all, I wasn’t his “little bird” in this situation. I was just a young, inexperienced navigator who was new to his ship.

I soon had other things to worry about, though. Not long after the first jump, it was time for dinner. The entire crew—except for Turk, who apparently ate in his quarters—filed down to the mess hall and sat together at the battered metal tables.

I made sure to go early, so I could claim a spot and not have to ask to sit with anyone who made me uncomfortable. But no sooner had I settled myself, with a dented silver tray filled with greenish-brown slop that was apparently thegreasestainthe ship’s cook had been making earlier, than a rough voice said,

“Hey, Catamite—you’re in my seat!”

I looked up and saw one of the crew I’d seen earlier when Snuffy had first brought Gurflug and me to our quarters. He had navy blue horns and a menacing scowl on his face.

“Er…sorry.” I scooted down the bench to a spot further along the table. But I had no sooner gotten settled when another voice said,

“Now you’re inmyfuckin’ seat. Move, Catamite!”

I looked up again to see another crew member—this one even bigger than the first—glowering down at me.

“Sorry,” I said stiffly, getting up. “I didn’t know there was assigned seating.”

“Well, there fuckin’ is,” the crew member growled. “Meaning you’ll sit wherever we tell you.”

“You can’t order me around—I’m the ship’s navigator!” I protested. “I outrank you!”

Which turned out to be the wrong thing to say. The crew member loomed over me, his eyes flashing.

“Youwhat,boy? I ain’t outranked by no fuckin’ Catamite!”

He looked so menacing that I couldn’t help taking a step back. All the crew members with the exception of Snuffy and Yorrin the pilot towered over me and outweighed me many times over. He was simply too big to fight—at least for me.

I wished that I had thought to bring my stinger with me. The small weapon which looked like a pen was useful because it delivered a hefty jolt of electricity to an assailant.

But what justification could I give for using it in this situation? I couldn’t just go shocking people all over the ship when they were rude to me—it wouldn’t be tolerated, I was certain.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” the Brute crew member grunted. He sat down at the table where I had been a moment before and began shoveling the gloopy greenish-browngreasestaininto his mouth, using a piece of brown bread-loaf as a utensil.

By this time the mess hall tables had all filled up. There was no room—even Gurflug’s table was crowded—probably because he was taking up one whole side of it with his bulk. What was I going to do?

Then someone said,

“Hey, navvie—over here.”

It was Jerx, waving to me from the far corner of the mess hall and pointing to the seat right beside him. He was grinning in an unpleasant way I didn’t like at all, but there was nowhere else to sit.

I should have just turned my tray into the washing slot and left the mess hall right then and there. But I was hungry and besides, I’d just backed down from one confrontation. If I started running away from every crew member aboard The Illyrian, I would be seen as a coward and a weakling.

I told myself that I couldn’t act like a girl anymore—I had to be manly and tough. Surely I could handle sitting beside Jerx for one meal. I would make a careful note of who sat where and try to get a spot beside Snuffy or Yorrin, who seemed to be the only decent crew members, next time.

Lifting my chin, I walked over and slid into the seat on the bench beside Jerx, who was on my right. The crew member to my left scooted over without comment to let me in. But once I was seated, he scooted back again, pushing me uncomfortably close to Jerx.

However, Jerx didn’t seem to mind that I was shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“Settle down, navvie,” he told me, scooping some of thegreasestaininto his mouth and chewing loudly.

“Er, thanks for the seat,” I said to him stiffly. I was encouraged by the fact that he was calling me “navvie” instead of “Catamite”—a word I had yet to learn the meaning of.

“Eat up—this is Cookie’s specialty,” Jerx informed me. “It ain’t the best, but it’ll keep your motor runnin,’” he added, nodding down to the nauseating mess on my tray.

“Um, okay,” I said nervously.

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