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IN THE TWO WEEKS AFTER the interrupted jewel heist and recovery of their score, things went back to normal, as normal as anything ever got on an outlaw ship. But tension hung in the air. Xandr hadn’t shared with the crew that Nevys had wanted their pictures, and they’d flown further out from the Oscavian empire than they normally operated. The jobs were harder to come by, and they paid less if a crew wouldn’t dabble in the slave trade, but they were out of reach of Oscavian security patrols, which worked in their favor.
They spent two days on a pleasure planet where the crew grabbed some much needed R&R and Xandr and Andie locked themselves away from everyone as soon as they could. They didn’t emerge until it was time to get back on the ship. Everyone had looked a little tired and a lot sated, and she and Xandr were no different. Those three words that had been chasing her for awhile still threatened to bubble up, but she’d wrangled them and beaten them into submission, tying them up deep within her mind to keep them from spilling out.
How long had she known Xandr? Two months? Maybe three? It was hard to keep track of time when most of it was spent in the black of space, but the point stood that she’d had food in her processor back on Ixilta that lasted longer than this relationship. She couldn’t say anything yet. Especially when Xandr hadn’t indicated whether or not the words would be welcome.
She could read into things, look at how he’d opened up to her about issues among the crew, confided in her things he didn’t even tell Keana. The first mate knew everything about the running of the ship, but she didn’t know Xandr’s emotions, not all of them. She did, however, know his secrets. It had begun to rankle as Andie wondered more and more about the Duke of Mebion. There was no curiosity in Keana’s eyes. Whatever connection there was between Xandr and the duke, Keana knew it and she wasn’t telling, not that Andie had asked. Keana didn’t like her, nor did she hate her; the first mate maintained icy neutrality that had thawed ever so slightly in the time since Xandr took is captainship back.
On Ixilta Andie hadn’t had to worry about the politics of interpersonal relationships. She’d kept to herself most of the time, waking up, going to work, going home, occasionally finding someone to keep her entertained for a week or two. Nothing personal, nothing important. People had a bad habit of dying or disappearing on Ixilta and Andie didn’t want to risk caring for someone who could be gone the next day. Or care for someone who could betray her to the guards for any minor infraction.
Life was completely different on the ship. She was making a space for herself, proving her worth, and making real friendships even while she dealt with interpersonal conflict. It was good, and terrifying, and she couldn’t wait until she was on more stable ground.
As she normally did on the long days in space, she ended up in the cockpit beside Sayevi watching darkness and stars spread out in front of them. “Do you ever get bored up here?” Andie asked. Piloting a ship wasn’t like driving on land with vehicles all around and plenty of hazards. Everything was open in every direction with no way to tell up from down or any direction in between.
The pilot nodded. “Autonav does most of the work out here, but it’s nice to get away from the crowd. And I have an entertainment tablet, so I make my own fun. I’d hang out with the rest of the crew more, but things can go from boring to deadly in a second and it’s best to be ready if the sensors detect a raiding crew or Oscavian military.”
“Does that happen a lot?” Andie knew how vast space was, how much nothing was out there, that it was hard to imagine randomly running into trouble.
“Sometimes,” Sayevi didn’t seem concerned. “The Seventh is fast and we know all the jump points between here and safety. You don’t need to worry with me at the helm.”
“I don’t.” They lapsed back into silence and watched the darkness out of the view screen. There was something comforting in the nothing, even as it reminded Andie that she only had the crew to rely on if something went wrong this far from any civilization or survivable planet.
The comm crackled and Keana’s voice came over the speaker. “Set a course for Praltez, captain’s orders.”
Sayevi hit a button and tilted her head up towards the speaker as if Keana could see her. “Affirmative. Have we got another job?”
“Yes, captain will brief.” The comm cut off without any more talk.
Andie and Sayevi shared a look and then the pilot grinned. “Thank the gods, I was going to go mad if we didn’t find a direction.”
“It’s only been three days since we got back from R&R. Shouldn’t you have a little patience?” Andie was mostly teasing, she could feel the same need to move thrumming in her veins.
“If you think I was resting back there, you’re out of your mind. Not all of us have another body to keep us warm at night. And a thick—”
“That’s enough, I think.” Andie cut her off with a laugh.
“Are all Earthlings so prudish?”
“No one’s ever called me a prude before. But I’m going to head back. I’ll see you at the meeting.” Andie let the pilot to program their path to the next job and retreated into the ship.
***
PRALTEZ WAS A SPECK of a planet just far enough from the Oscavian Empire that it didn’t worry about falling under imperial dominion. Xandr thought the people were fools not to be planning for the day the empire decided it wanted to stretch its influence, but that wasn’t why he’d brought the crew to the planet, and they wouldn’t be on land long enough for anyone to notice. Hopefully no one would notice until they were gone. Being outside the empire, Praltez was a popular stopover for freighters looking to avoid imperial taxes and inspections and more goods flowed through the planet than on most planets twice its size.
The population was small and made of a mix of disaffected Oscavians and Praltez natives with ornate horns growing out of their heads and iridescent scales in place of skin. They walked on two legs and had two arms, but many also had spikes along their backs, and their mouths were disturbingly large. It was considered rude to stare, and Xandr had made sure to prep his team. Keana and Andie would have the most contact with the Praltese and given that the crew was used to working with Malax, he doubted they’d have much issue.
He knew Keana had more than enough training to keep her thoughts to herself, and Andie had spent years on Ixilta where hiding her thoughts and emotions was paramount to survival. His concern wasn’t whether they could work undetected on the planet, he only worried that whatever conflict was simmering between them would stop them from getting the job done.
But Keana was a professional. She knew how to control herself. And Andie was so determined to prove herself that she wouldn’t fuck it up. He kept telling himself that as he watched the two women retreat from their rendezvous point. If things went well, no one would realize that his crew had stolen anything. And they’d load the score right onto the Seventh without a second thought.
They were after a shipment of raw materials used to make subdermal translators. A certain mineral was incredibly rare and expensive, and in this part of space the Oscavian government held a stranglehold on the distribution. Normally a ship carrying that kind of cargo would have avoided Praltez and the scavengers that lurked there like it had boils growing out of it, but Xandr’s contact had managed to reroute their target and they had a small window of opportunity to grab the cargo and run.
Simple. Easy. Relatively safe. This was the kind of job a man dreamed of. So he was almost certain it was going to go wrong. He’d never worked with the job broker before, but Lansry had vouched for him, and while Xandr was still trying to determine whether or not Lansry had sold him out on Station 163, he couldn’t turn down a job this lucrative with such little risk. If Lansry hadn’t sold him out, then refusing this job would put that relationship at risk, and there were only so many brokers he could trust that he wasn’t willing to throw the relationship away until he was sure.
But he was on the lookout for trouble, and his instincts told him something was bound to go wrong.
With a nod he directed the rest of his team down the road toward their own destination, the command center for this sector’s import and export. Their contact had arranged for their target to land on Praltez, but it was up to Xandr and his team to get them to give up the goods. And the best kind of theft was the kind that didn’t seem like theft at all.
They walked into the squat building on a nondescript street as if they belonged there, Taryn in the lead with Kiran and Xandr backing her up. Taryn had the most legitimate dealings with shippers and if anyone could sweet talk some cargo off a ship, it was her.
“We have a meeting with the director,” she told the Praltese receptionist who fluttered around his desk, stacking paper in piles and frantically answering comm calls like he’d be executed if he missed one.
“Please excuse me for a moment,” he said, and Xandr didn’t know if he was talking to Taryn or whoever was on the comm. He’d known Praltez was busy, but this went beyond his wildest dreams. Of course, Sayevi and Malax were responsible for a few of those calls, hoping to keep the man distracted, but there was no way they were doing it all.
Taryn didn’t back down, leaning in a little closer and getting in the man’s space. He looked up, eyes wide and frantic, before jerking back to take another call. Taryn crossed her arms and jutted a hip out to lean against his desk. “It’s the height of rudeness to be late for a meeting. The director is expecting us.”
“If... you... just...” The receptionist pulled up his computer screen and looked at it, but in turning he knocked a pile of papers off his desk.
Kiran came around the side and helped him pick them up while Xandr pulled a small magnet out of his pocket and stuck it to the back of the screen. When the receptionist stood up he let out a broken whine almost bad enough to make Xandr regret his actions, but they had to get into the office and this was the least violent path. Computers could be repaired, and blasters hurt a lot more.
The receptionist tapped the screen several times, his horns bobbing as he tried to make it work. “Come on, you piece of—” His head snapped up as if he just remembered that he had company. “I’m sure I saw the meeting on the schedule earlier. Please go on through, the director will be happy to see you.”
No, the director would be with his mistress for another hour, according to their intelligence, but the receptionist didn’t know that and it worked to their advantage. It was amazing the kind of things a person could learn with a little hacking and a few credits.
A few androids bustled behind the scenes, but they weren’t programmed to interfere with any biological beings. That was what the security droids were for, but they weren’t programmed to operate during business hours. This entire operation was manned by the director and the receptionist, and the shipping company was about to learn why it was a bad idea to rely on such a small staff.
Getting into the director’s locked office was child’s play and getting around the security settings on his computer only a little more difficult. Resetting shipping directions for their targeted ship and a few others to throw off the scent took minutes. Taryn could have done the whole thing by herself, but he and Kiran were there to make sure everything went smoothly.
“The info should alert our target to the change,” Taryn told him as she closed out of the computer. “We should be off the ground in three hours.”
Everything was going just as they planned. So why couldn’t he stop worrying about Andie?
