Tired of the same old resort planets? Looking for a change that will revitalize you and reconnect you to your human roots on Old Earth? We have what you need on Yule Planet!
Sofia stopped the holo at the spot where a camera bot swooped over the mountains, the vid revealing the resort. She'd only watched the promo vid a few dozen times, but she never tired of that beautiful, heart-squeezing shot. A cozy little village came into view as the bot cleared the last snow-covered ridge. Warm yellow light shone from old-fashioned paned windows, spilling onto cobblestone walkways. The neat fachwerk—Sofia had needed to look the word up—buildings gave the impression of shops and private residences all lined up sleepily in the wintry landscape.
And behind the village? When she let the holo play again, her heart sped as the castle that housed the resort proper rose out of the twilight. Soaring cone-topped towers, crenellated battlement, huge courtyards, and thick stone walls, all impeccably dusted with just enough snow for perfection. Gorgeous.
A snort came from behind her. "It's all so ridiculous. None of your ancestors even came from Earth's northern hemisphere."
"Mami, please." Sofia rolled her eyes. "Stop it. Yule is symbolic, a shared racial memory."
"Sure, if your many-great grandparents were some northern pagans. Don't waste your money on that tourist trap. Stay and have Midwinter with familia."
It would be the same as it was every year—the horde of noisy cousins underfoot, Tia Lena and her wife, Gia, arguing economic politics with Papi. They weren't even on opposing sides. They just liked to argue. The uncles would drink too much. The aunts would fuss too much about why she didn't have a family of her own yet.
She couldn't stand it again. For once, this one time, she had to get away. The idiotic middle management job, the constant harping about familial obligations, the stupid relationship disasters—all of it. Yule Planet would replace it with a brief respite of mystical wonder, with the freedom to care only about herself and her own wants. She would see the ice palace, visit the Yule Longhouse for dinner, go to the mineral baths, and commune with old gods and old beliefs in rooms festooned with holly, oak and mistletoe.
Mystical. Yes. She'd come back wiser after a detoxification of the soul that included Old Earth methods of cleansing the body. Primitive rituals of heated stones and steam, a stranger's hands kneading her flesh, and other pure, ancient knowledge instead of sonic exfoliation and super-filtered oxygen treatments. A return to a more primal existence would clear the foul mood that had put hooks in her for months now.
Wilderness. Planetary atmosphere. Weather. "I'm going, Mami. My final word. Besides, the deposit's nonrefundable."
Those were the magic words. Her frugal mother shook her head and muttered about ridiculous daughters as she stomped off and left Sofia in peace. Finally. With the holovid switched over to a docutravel show about Yule Planet, she could accomplish some shopping without interference. The travel show advised having a good coat. Synclar was best for the insulation without being too bulky.
A little pricey, but worth it. She bought one in deep purple.
A cute but practical pair of boots, several scarves of different materials, gloves for various conditions and intervals of time outside later, she believed herself properly equipped.
To keep Yule Planet pristine, only emergency shuttle service is available for departures and arrivals. All guests are delivered to the resort's landing pad from the orbiting station in carefully monitored solar-robotic pods. Your itinerary specialist will assist you in determining whether a single, double, or family pod is the most appropriate option for you.
The show moved on to recommended attractions and activities, most of which she knew by heart from watching the promotional vids.
When she turned her attention from her packing lists back to the show, they'd moved on to a gorgeous night scene, snow gleaming bone white under the planet's single moon. Figures moved along the crest of a high hill, difficult to parse until the camera swept in closer. Riders on… Sofia had no idea.
The indigenous Naorpw people traverse the icy wilds of the planet with ease atop their chionisaurs, the name given their mounts by United System scientists. While theses tribes do trade with the Yule Planet resort systems—and you may catch a glimpse or two during a visit—they are generally wary of strangers. We suggest any photo ops with them remain long range and that you do not seek them out, as the chionisaurs are carnivorous and unpredictable. In order to preserve their culture and way of life, Yule Planet rules are also quite strict about contact with the indigenous people. Please refer to resort literature.
What an amazing life that would be, free of company rules, of human law. Just free and wild. Sofia indulged in a moment's fantasy of herself sitting tall and proud on one of those snow lizard things. Childish woolgathering, though, like the daydreams she used to have in first-year classes about Sofia the Conqueror and her army of wereleopards. No, the indigenous whatever their name had been people could have the desolate wilds. She would be a good, conscientious visitor and leave them alone. Besides, she had more planned than she could realistically cram into her visit and would be far too busy to be an ugly offworld tourist pestering the planetary natives.
Another week and she'd be on her way.
"Simply sit back and enjoy the trip, Ms. Cancino. Keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times," the flight tech at the launch station joked as he checked her harness, lowered her helmet, and clicked it in place.
Everyone at the welcome center on the orbiting station had been so friendly, and Sofia managed a laugh for the sake of decorum. Honestly, though? Now that she faced the prospect of hurtling through vacuum in a tiny pod, she was nervous.
Scared out of my mind.
While she'd waited for her turn in the arrivals lounge, where attentive wait staff brought a constant stream of drinks and snacks, she'd watched the cameras as other resort goers climbed into the pods and launched. Other cameras showed the pods in transit, while a third set filmed the happy, laughing people disembarking planetside.
Faux rabbit-fur boots. Synth-cashmere scarves. Dinner in the Longhouse with all the candles burning. Sauna and a massage. Maybe have time for some shopping. Oh, there's a drum circle tonight… On and on her list went, repeating all the wonderful things that waited for her on the surface as her pod slid from the airlock and out into the dark.
Speed was difficult to judge as the blue-white half sphere in her viewport loomed larger and larger. She knew from the briefing that the planet pulled her pod into its gravity well at a horrific speed she didn't want to think about, but from up here, all was peaceful and calm.
Thrusters and EM fields built into the pod would slow it in atmosphere and orient it correctly so it didn't land upside down. The resort had been doing this a long time. People landed in these pods every, single day. They knew what they were doing.
Hitting atmosphere at two-hundred-six meters per second before the thrusters deploy… Two-hundred-six meters per second…
Of all the numbers from the briefing, that one had stuck. Sofia still had no reference for how fast that really was, but she didn't need one for it to sound like an unsafe speed for falling into a gravity well. Every single day. They know what they're doing.
Except that as sphere turned to arc and arc to horizon, gravity pressed Sofia harder and harder into her seat. The thrusters weren't kicking in. The pod wasn't slowing. Something was screaming, and she didn't have time to figure out what before her vision tunneled into black nothing.
When light trickled back into Sofia's awareness, she was sure she was dead. White. Unsullied, uninterrupted white, no matter where she looked, which wasn't far, since she couldn't move her head. That thought led to the discovery that she couldn't move anything, no matter how hard she tried, and that thought segued into the knowledge that she wasn't dead but buried alive.
She'd just gathered breath for a scream of sheer terror when the white above her brightened. Then brightened again. Then a hole appeared in the unbroken white—a hole and a… mitten?
Another mitten joined the first, followed by several more digging away the white around her. By the time she had an arm free, she'd finally figured out that the stuff holding her was impact foam. Her pod hadn't landed. It had crashed.
She set that aside, too shaken to process it yet.
Hands lifted her out into a blindingly bright world. She stood on shaking legs, trying to determine what was broken. At two-hundred-six meters per second, something had to be broken, right? Dark, blurred shapes moved around her. Vibrations tickled her ears in varied enough rhythms that she thought they were speech, but she couldn't make out words. Everything was muffled and strange.
A click. Internally she called herself an idiot as someone lifted off her helmet. Both hearing and sight sharpened, though it took her a while to parse either. Hulking shapes surrounded her, milling about, and beyond those, even larger hulking shapes loomed a few yards away. Voices… speech…
The shapes in the background resolved into huge animals, things that looked like feathered lizards.
"Chionisaurs," she breathed out. "You're the Naorpw! Does anyone speak Common?"
How had she gotten so far out into the wilds? Were these people savages? Would they feed her to their mounts?
"Are we what?" one of the hooded and mittened shapes asked in perfect, growly Common.
"You're Naorpw, the…the indigenous people!"
Someone behind her giggled. Sofia didn't think she'd said anything funny. The figure facing her removed a set of snow goggles, blue eyes squinting at her.
"Indigenous, my ass." That one, larger than the others, turned their back on Sofia, muttering, "Fucking tourists."
"Then who are you people?"
"Someone tell her to stop yelling. She's scaring the bubbies." The large figure stomped away toward the chionisaurs without a backward glance.
The beasts were huge—bigger than commuter tramcars—something the holovids didn't properly demonstrate. Large Person went right up to one, and to Sofia's horror, petted its blue-white feathered nose. At least it appeared to be covered in feathers. Maybe it was some bizarre kind of fur. The monster nudged Large Person hard enough they had to take a step back. Sofia was certain a loss of fingers was imminent.
"It's all right, Miss," a softer voice said at her elbow. Male? Possibly? Sofia's ears still felt stuffed with batting. "You're all right. That was quite the landing. Good thing these pods are so sturdy. Hecky? Do you have an extra coat? She's about your height."
Another figure, tall and slender, bounced over to one of the chionisaurs, half-vanished into some sort of saddlebag, and emerged with triumphant cry. Bouncy Figure returned to the group around Sofia and, with a mad grin, handed her a roll of heavy cloth. It felt like coarse hide.
"I have a coat in my luggage." She held the coat by its shoulders, not at all pleased with its earthy, animal smell.
"Oh, hon." A smaller figure touched her arm, their voice sympathetic as they gestured toward the horizon. "Would that be the luggage that went on the resort's baggage transport? I'm afraid your coat's about seventy-five kilometers back that way."
"Seventy-five—" Sofia swallowed a hysterical laugh. "But they'll come get me. Did you call them? The resort?"
"First she thinks we're backwater yokels. Now she thinks we have long-range comm." Large growly person had returned when another person had taken over soothing the monstrous beasts. "No, we didn't call them. No way to do that out here."
"But you'll take me there, right? Right?"
Large person let out a disgusted sigh. "Fuck. Her volume control's busted too. Tre, she rides with you. Don't think I could manage more than five minutes before I'd be tempted to feed her to Shadow."
Sofia turned to the person who was helping her into the smelly coat. "How long will it take to get to where I should've landed?"
This new person, with sienna skin and a soft laugh, said, "Oops. Um, no. We're not headed to the resort. But we can't leave you out here. You'd die. You'll need to come along on this job."
Arms wrapped around her ribs, Sofia tried to slow her shivering and her racing thoughts. "But you can't do that! It's kidnapping!"
"Ma'am, you're the one who almost landed on top of us." That person, identifiable by a red tassel on their hood, handed Sofia mittens and goggles. "Around here, we call that salvage. Best get mounted up with Tre so you don't get left."
Red Tassel turned her toward one of the beasts, and Sofia failed to bite back a whimper. "The pod has to have a tracker. They'll come looking for me."
"Whatever electronics were on your poor little pod are toast, sweetie." Soft Voice was back and steered her towards the waiting monster as they tugged up her hood. "Don't worry. We're not anything as romantic or interesting as pirates or bandits. But we are on a schedule. Have you ever ridden?"
"Ridden?" Sofia squeaked, unable to make sense of the question.
"A horse? A pony? A Siral ox? A Velsian war cat? Though that last one's unlikely, I suppose."
"No?"
"Poor thing. You don't sound sure. Landing really rattled your brain case, did it?" Tre, this one had to be Tre, reached the chionisaur and tapped on its shoulder. The beast knelt in the snow, and Tre climbed up a series of knobs on its harness to reach the saddle up top. Tre reached down a hand. "Come on up, hon. Not the best shoes for it, I'll admit, but you can do it."
The other muffled people were mounted, snow goggles back in place. The beasts lurched to their feet with little whistles and clicks from their riders, and the lead beast with large person astride began to move off.
Terrified of being left behind in the desolation of white, Sofia reached as far as she could and barely clutched Tre's reaching hand, fingers clumsy inside the insulated mitten. She scrabbled as much as climbed the side of the chionisaur, movements jerky and frantic enough that she nearly fell off the opposite side. Tre grabbed her by the back of the coat and dragged her upright before getting their mount moving.
Sofia squirmed and tried to adjust, but the chionisaur's back was too broad to be comfortable, like trying to straddle a transport tube. Her thighs ached within moments, and the swaying from side to side as the chionisaur jogged along on its thick stumpy legs was making her queasy. This couldn't be sustainable for more than half an hour at a time.
"How much longer?"
Hard to read expressions with goggles in place and hood pulled down, but Tre managed some version of surprised. "It's a few hours yet, hon. Have to get to camp before the sun goes down."
"Can we stop? Now?" Sofia tried again to ease her legs. The burning in her thighs brought tears to her eyes. "This is really painful."
Tre's frown might have been concern or annoyance, but their voice remained soft. "Scooch back and hold onto my coat. Pull your feet up and sit crisscross applesauce for a few minutes."
For two breaths, all Sofia could do was stare. "Did you… Are you talking to me like I'm a six-year-old?"
"In this situation, hon? You are." Tre shrugged and turned back around. "Just hold on tight and don't fall off, please."
Having to content herself with an outraged glare at Tre's back, she took a double handful of coat with an aggravated sigh and had no shame about wincing and hissing as she pulled her legs up. Cross-legged was a little better. For a while. Until her butt started to hurt. She shifted so her legs stuck out in front of her. Then shifted again so she was astride once more. No position helped for more than a few minutes.
"Wiggleworm," Tre muttered, but didn't offer to stop.
By the time they finally did stop, dusk was turning the blinding white into indigo shadows that tricked the eyes. Tre had said camp, but all Sofia spotted were snowdrifts. She wasn't sure her legs would work ever again—she couldn't feel them anymore. Fire shot up her back. Her butt was half numb. There'd better be a comm office here. Wherever here is.
Tre patted their chionisaur, swung a leg over, and slid down the feathered shoulder with a little wheee. At the bottom, they tipped their head back. "Come on down. We're here."
"I don't think I can."
"Of course you can, sweetie. I'll catch you."
Sofia swiped at her eyes brimming with frustrated tears. "I can't get my leg over." The snicker-turned-cough only made her angrier. "Well, I can't! I told you how bad it was. This is no way to treat a paying guest!"
Large person swaggered over. With hood thrown back and goggles perched up top her head, it was easier to see she was a handsome woman with piercing blue eyes. "Problem over here?"
"Legs didn't hold up well during the ride, apparently." Tre gestured up at Sofia with a sigh. "Our foundling says she can't dismount."
"Yeah? Well, I've got a crew to get under cover before the temps drop, Miss Paying Customer. You damn well are getting down." With that, large person jumped, grabbed Sofia's near leg, and yanked.
Sofia tried to hold on, but without Tre in front of her there was only smooth saddle. Arms flailing, she toppled with an outraged shriek and fell face first into the snow. She came up sputtering and furious. "You irresponsible idiot! You could've killed me! I'm reporting you as soon as we get to the resort! What's your name?"
Large person just raised a ginger eyebrow. "Have fun with that." She turned and stomped away, growling, "Hope she has an inside voice."
The small person who'd calmed the riding beasts before darted in. She didn't speak to anyone and snagged the harness of Tre's chionisaur. It opened its mouth to display rows of dagger-long teeth and emitted a terrible sound, halfway between tearing cloth and shuttle engine starting up. Snow starting to seep into her boots, Sofia sat frozen in horror, certain quiet person would be snapped up by those monstrous jaws.
But no, the chionisaur huffed and shambled off beside quiet person, docile as an elderly dog. Quiet person stopped by large person and snagged her chionisaur with her free hand. The rest ambled after as if they were gigantic carnivorous sheep.
"We're losing the light!" large person bellowed. "Everyone who isn't feeding the bubbies, get your asses inside!"
"Inside where?" Sofia meant it as a challenge. It came out as a whine. "There's nothing but snowdrifts."
"Oh ye of little faith." Friendly male voice was back as he hooked an arm around Tre and gave them a scorching kiss. He turned to one of the others—Sofia couldn't be sure which one it was—and gave them an identical kiss. "Follow us, Miss Foundling."
She followed the triad around what she'd thought was a huge snowbank and stumbled back a step when lights from an opening in the snow suddenly blinded her. The shadows and snow dunes had hidden a—what? Room? Hangar? Cavern? Sofia blinked the spots from her vision as she moved forward. The walls and ceiling were too regular, so not a cavern.
The male figure threw back his hood to reveal a head of salt-and-pepper hair and a warm smile, and spread his arms to indicate the not-cavern. "Welcome to Camp Three. Come on in. We need to clear the front room for our noble steeds. I'm Petey, by the way. You've met Tre, of course. And this is our lovely Lanel."
This taller person, the one with sienna skin, pushed off their hood to reveal a definite him with dark, laughing eyes and a shy smile.
"Fi!" Large person yelled from somewhere deeper inside. "We up yet?"
"Almost!" someone's muffled voice answered.
Petey tipped his head toward the voices. "And that's our fearless leader, Shara, and Fiero, getting the systems running. Marta and Hecky are out getting the beasties fed."
"What do they eat?" Sofia got out on a hard swallow.
"Generally, whatever they can find." Petey shrugged as he herded them farther inside. "And you are?"
Someone who shouldn't be here. "Sofia Cancino."
"I'm sorry. Should we know you?" Lanel's voice was as soft as his laugh. "That is, we've been out of touch. Are you famous?"
Sofia wrinkled her forehead. "Noooo."
"The way you said your name. It sounded like we should know it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sofia stopped, unwilling to take another sore, limping step without answers. "Who are you people? Why won't you take me back?"
"Ah. Well." Petey clapped his mittens together and pointed to an alcove off to the right. "That might take more than an introduction. Come keep me company while I make dinner."
Off balance since she'd expected anger in return for hers, Sofia followed. A mechanical hum started up at the back of the man-made cave, lights came more evenly and at a less eye-watering intensity, and warm air puffed from above.
"That's done it. Excellent." Petey took packets from cabinets and set them on a center counter, movements somehow both bustling and efficient. "Fi's got the solar gens running. As to who we are—undo that package strap, would you?—we're a bit of flotsam and jetsam, I suppose. Most of us are here on work release."
"You're criminals?" Sofia squeaked, dropping the packet and spilling smaller packets of something all over her feet.
"That's all right." Petey waved a hand at the packets as if she were upset about dropping them. "They're just grain. No harm done. I should point out that no one here is a violent criminal. Hmm. Except maybe Marta. She was a little violent."
Sofia was so flustered, she banged her head on the counter trying to pick up the packets. "But why? I mean… I don't understand."
Petey shook his head as he pulled a huge pot from a lower cabinet. "Of course not. I'm explaining it so badly. YPRC—the Yule Planet Resort Corporation—goes to great lengths to make certain nothing disturbs the careful theming of the resort. That means that shuttles don't land within sight or hearing of the resort proper. You understand that since they sent you down in a landing pod. However, that also means that the large shipments required to run such an enormous resort can't be dropped nearby either."
"So they send supplies in landing pods too?" Despite being irritated, exhausted, and a bit scared, Sofia couldn't help being drawn into the logistics. "Doesn't sound cost-effective."
"Very true. That wouldn't be." He filled the pot with water from a pipe on the wall. "No, regular supply shuttles deliver food, housekeeping items, merchandise, and so on, but out of range. Groups of N A O R P W—" He pronounced each letter. "—Nomadic Aggregates Of Relocated Planetary Workers like us, collect the shipments and bring them to the resort, where they tell the tourists we're indigenous tribes. Bit of offensive fiction, but what can one do?"
Sofia sank down onto a smooth bench built into the opposite wall. "They use criminals?"
Petey shot her a quelling glance. "Work-release candidates. These are people who have served their sentences, Ms. Cancino, and have been judged ready to ease back into society. I know most people can't get past the convictions."
"Because they're criminals," Sofia insisted. She lowered her voice. "What did you do?"
"Let's see now." Various things went into the pot. Sofia had no idea what, since most of the packets weren't labeled. "Shara ran a ship and shuttle chop shop in the Sirian outer ring. Good business, apparently, but many of the parts were stolen. My Tre and Lanel grew Respite fungus. Unlicensed and a bit too much for personal use, poor dears. Our Sergeant Fiero is ex-Altair Fleet. They don't pay well enough to support dependents, I've heard, and Fi has very elderly parents. She was arrested for petty electronic theft. Hecky will proudly tell you she was convicted for grand theft shuttle. And Marta… oh, our Marta." Petey stopped to shake his head.
"What? Is she a murderer?"
"Non-human rights activist. There were break-ins, thefts of lab animals, and sometimes fires involved. Though I don't believe she ever hurt anyone."
She was sitting in a den of thieves and possible terrorists. This was deteriorating from bad to worse. "And you?" she whispered.
"Me? Oh, I was a history professor."
"A… You went to prison for teaching history?"
Petey chuckled softly. "No. I suppose one could on certain planets, but no. I was tired of modern life, of teaching at a corporate-run university. Tired and lonely and perhaps a bit romantic. I'm a volunteer. There are a few of us scattered through the work groups."
"Oh."
What else could she say to that? What a weird choice and you sound a little crazy both seemed rude. They were both quiet after that except for Petey's polite requests for her to put this away or measure that. Sofia hadn't intended to help with dinner, but he directed so unobtrusively that she didn't realize she had until they were done.
Her stomach rumbled as she brought a stack of plates to the long table in the main room, while Petey brought the stew. A steel door rolled down across the cavern's opening as the last of the beasts, ten in all, grumbled and roared in with Marta and Hecky herding them. Hecky shed her coat the second the door clanged down and bounded over to the table. Marta took her time, petting noses and checking feet before she joined everyone.
With protective gear off, Sofia found the people under the camouflaging coats and goggles. Eyes crinkling as she laughed, Shara looked far more human now and less of a threatening hulk, her fire-red hair falling in a thick braid down her back. Tre, white-blond hair cropped short, was slender and graceful, while Lanel was their taller counterpart—willow to their reed. Fiero had big-knuckled hands with the kinds of scars that came from working with machinery, her head sporting only the barest black stubble.
They were people, but it didn't make Sofia feel any safer with them. Criminals. The lot of them except Petey, though he could've been a pathological liar.
She waved her spoon at Hecky, who seemed the most ridiculous and therefore the least dangerous. "So Petey was telling me you hijacked a shuttle?"
"What? Hijacked? Nah, wasn't no one onboard. I wouldna done that." A huge, mad grin blossomed on Hecky's face, brown curls bouncing around her face as she gesticulated with her spoon. "But grand theft shuttle? Fuck, yeah. I did that. Holy flares, that was a ride! Woulda gotten away with it too if I'd stuck the landing better."
"Heck, you crashed," Fiero broke in sharply.
"No, no, no. I walked away. That was a hard landing, not a crash."
"Crash," Lanel murmured to his stew.
"A hard landing. Don't you listen to them, Ms. Sofia. I was the best."
Shara smacked Hecky's arm with the back of her hand. "If they didn't arrest you, could you've restarted that engine and flown away?"
Hecky's bright smile drained away. "Well…no."
"That's a crash, Hecky."
She scowled at Shara's pronouncement, but it seemed an old argument no one took seriously. Dinner proceeded with the soft chatter and ribbing of people who'd been together for some time. It sounded like…family. Sofia banished the thought as soon as it surfaced. She'd come here to get away from family, not fall headfirst into someone else's.
Marta finally joined them, petite, almost delicate without her coat. Her black hair gleamed in the light from the overheads. Her hands moved in quick, sure, darting movements, little brown fish, as she snagged her dinner from the common pot. Sofia let the conversation flow around her as she observed. The others chattered. Marta didn't say a single word. She might as well have been alone at the table, with her lack of reaction to the conversation.
She gave Sofia the creeps.
When Marta had scraped her bowl clean, she got up and took her dishes to the kitchen without acknowledging anyone.
Sofia leaned over to Petey to ask, "Doesn't she talk?"
"Marta? Oh, yes. Our chatty sparrow. But not around strangers. Not a peep."
"Why?"
On her other side, Tre shrugged. "She hasn't ever told us."
"And it's her business," Fiero added from across the table, fierce and bitter.
Lanel shrugged and offered Fiero a crooked smile. "Maybe there isn't a reason. Some people always want to look for dark, twisty reasons."
Now it starts. The arguments. The shouting. An unpleasant part of Sofia felt smug and satisfied. All families were the same, even when they tried to look unified and perfect. Her thoughts slid sideways, greasy and heavy in their unkind packaging as she realized how horrid that sounded. She shrugged off the niggle of guilt quickly, though. These people, these convicts, had kidnapped her.
Lanel had taken Fiero off to talk quietly in a nook at the back of the cavern. Petey had Tre and Hecky helping him pull bundles out of drawers along one side, which left Sofia alone with Shara at the table.
Blue eyes bored into Sofia as Shara leaned forward. "Here's how it'll be, Ms. Paying Customer. I've got people counting on me to get us to the pickup site and back on time. So nobody's got time to get you to your nice vacation right now. Gonna give you two options. You can play princess and sulk all you want, and in that case you're baggage. Just another thing we have to deliver. We'll feed you and keep you safe, but you don't talk to or interfere with my crew unless it's a question about where you can sit out of the way."
Sofia's face burned, humiliation mixed with anger. "Great. Wonderful. What's option two?"
"You come along as temporary crew. Help where you can. Follow instructions. Be an extra pair of hands." Shara waved her fork between them. "You do that, we're good. You live as part of us and maybe pick up a few extra skills along the way."
"I paid a lot for this vacation, just so you know. Saved for months," Sofia spat out.
"Yeah, all snark aside, I get it." Shara took her last bite of stew, chewing while she gazed out into the middle distance. "They'll have to refund it, you know. Bad public relations, since one of their pods went wonky. But it's not my fault or my crew's fault the pod's nav screwed up. And we've got a deadline."
That had been a running theme since they'd pried her out of the pod. "So I hear. What happens if you miss it?"
There went that eyebrow again, reaching for the ceiling. "We get two missed delivery times and then we're considered a failed group. They break us up and send us back to the prison colonies for the rest of our sentences. Petey gets left here alone and no one gets paid."
"Oh." The heat drained from Sofia's face in a sudden rush. "That's… really harsh."
Shara waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "All in the contract. No one's forced to do these work-release things, but it takes a good chunk off your sentence, and it's better than the colonies. So, which will it be, Princess?"
She wanted to be angry. She wanted to refuse to lift a finger. She wanted to rage against incompetence and skewed priorities. But the eyes tracking her struggle from across the table did so with such cynical weariness that Sofia knew she'd already been judged and measured, as if Shara had already made the decision for her.
"I'll work," she answered with a toss of her head.
Both eyebrows went up. Score. Though Shara recovered quickly from her surprise. "Good. What do you do, out there in your regular life?"
"I'm a logistics accountant."
Shara stared at her for several blinks. "Right, then. I'll call on you if we need anything added up. I'll leave you with Petey for today. We'll see where we need an extra hand tomorrow."
Left on her own, Sofia wandered over to Petey's group before her isolation grew too awkward, and they set her to work helping to set up sleeping pods for everyone. It was a mindless, easy task. Sofia comforted herself with the knowledge that the arrangement was temporary, and it certainly wouldn't get any worse.