Page 36 of Star Champion

A server entered the dining room with a large platter, setting it down in the center of the table with pride. “As you requested, My Lord.”

Arranged on a bed of crushed ice in the center of a yellow fringe of citrus slices were dozens of glistening pale purple, spotted nuggets about the size of her thumb.

“Marvelous,” Sir Klark said, rubbing his hands together. “Kes, I thought you might enjoy a specialty from Eireya, my homeworld. Meat and tubers can appeal only for so long, after all.”

Rustling sounds came from the ice. Her eyes widened. Hands flat on the table, she leaned forward, sure her ears were playing tricks on her. “They’re moving.”

“As fresh as can be, yes,” Sir Klark said. “Shoal dabs are a species of crab found in the warm shallows of the seas on my homeworld. They have no shells. The meat is quite mild, buttery and slightly sweet. They’re very good simmered in a fish stew, or pan fried and salted, but they’re at their peak of flavor fresh, like this.” He reached for the platter with a pair of tongs. A shoal dab dropped and scampered sideways across the table.

Skeet crushed it with a plate. “I hate when they do that.”

“A waste of a dab, Yonson.” Sir Klark speared another with his fork. The thing wiggled on the prongs until he popped it into his mouth and chewed.

“Crag me,” Jemm blurted, to the players’ laughter.

Even Sir Klark laughed at her shock, his grin broad and real. She watched him, transfixed. He was a different person when he laughed. In the next moment he seemed to catch himself, and his levity faded to a polite, cordial, close-lipped smile. It was as if returning to this neutral stance was as much a trained habit as a two-handed grip on a sens-sword.

If only he were a trill rat like her instead of an aristo, because his stuffiness was a dare of the worst kind. The man begged to be shaken up a bit. Begged! Aye, she would start by mussing his perfect hair and rumpling his perfect clothes so he would blend in better when she took him out dancing: thump music—nice and loud—them grinding close to the beat, sweating, laughing, shouting above the noise, with enough ale to quench their thirst and weaken his inhibitions. Afterward, she would spirit him away someplace private. By the time she was done with him, he would know what it was like to have a little fun.

The mental image warmed her all over. She extinguished it immediately. Acting like a young man meant she had to think like one too. Revealing even a whiff of attraction for the owner of Team Eireya would poke holes in the still-thick layer of expectation bias protecting her.

“Your turn, Kes.” Sir Klark’s eyes sparkled with the dare. “You said you never met a food you didn’t like.”

“I never met a food that tried to run away.” With tongs, she transferred a few shoal dabs to her plate. They were weakening. One dragged itself to the rim. She nudged it back to huddle with the rest of the doomed. She felt the eyes of the men on her as well as the beady, black eyes-on-stalks of the dabs as she selected her first victim. She had never seen a sea creature in person, never touched or smelled one. Now she was about to eat one.

Holding her breath, she stabbed at one. It skidded out from under the tines of her fork. It was more solid than she had expected. She cursed and tried again, keeping her prey corralled with her knife.

Both Skeet and Xirri were laughing, and even the server had stopped to watch. Sir Klark’s lips twitched with amusement behind the rim of the bottle he held to his mouth. “I thought you had more predatory instinct in you than that, Kes.”

Jemm speared it this time. Refusing to look at it before carrying it into her mouth, she bit down once before swallowing it almost whole. She felt it descend all the way down her throat to her stomach. Then, with a few big gulps of the sweet beverage in the bottle, she made sure it stayed there, in case the thing tried to reverse course.

“Well?” Sir Klark asked.

“If I ever have the chance to experience the sea, I think it would taste and feel the way the shoal dab tasted and felt—cold and fresh.”

Pleasure suffused his features. “You’ll have the opportunity to visit the sea before too long. At the end of the playing season the entire team is invited to Eireya. The reality of the sea cannot compare to what you saw in the arcades.”

“It’s a week you won’t forget,” Skeet assured her.

Jemm was certain she would never forget this meal, let alone dipping her toes in a real ocean.

The server arrived to collect the dirty plates. It would not be right to ask to take any scraps home, but, oh, how she would have loved to see Button’s eyes when the shoal dabs were brought out, to hear her sweet giggles. “It was the best meal I ever ate, all of it was, but don’t tell my Ma I said so. Although with ingredients like this to work with, I think she’d give your chef a run for his money. I wish Nico could have been here.” It slipped out before she thought about the consequences of reminding Sir Klark of his absence.

“Ah, Nico.” He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together, a relaxed enough posture on the surface but she sensed inner tension coiling like a heavy spring. “So, remind me why your manager isn’t here. Some sort of trouble with a club?”

“Migel Arran, who owns Rumble, where I play Eighthnights, didn’t like that I fought at Narrow Margin last night. He wants an exclusive. We refuse to give it. He sent a few of his thugs to try to change our minds. They caught up to us outside the docks—threats, intimidation, the usual crat.”

His eyes flickered darkly. “Threats? Intimidation?”

“They beat Nico up and threatened to send me to the prison league.”

Sir Klark looked like a predator that someone had poked with a sharp stick. “Is that how you came by the bruising on your jaw?”

“Aye. One of Arran’s gangster cogs. He said they had orders not to hurt me, but I know they would. They said if I fought back, they’d make sure Nico didn’t walk again.” She swallowed, her throat thickening with fear all over again. “I’m worried about Nico, because he ain’t worried about them.”

The furrow was back between his brows. “Where is he now?”

“He stayed behind in town to wait for me. We didn’t want ya to see his condition and label us trouble, and maybe I’d lose the chance to try out.”

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