Chapter Nine
Brica Contact
In the elevator, Vivra ignored Clalls’ inquiring look when she stepped off to visit flight operations on level eight. The place was usually filled with pilots chatting, weapons and recon security and training. But the echo of her wedges on the floor carried in the darkened room. One light was on in the primary flight room. She heard a female and a male voice, the words muffled.
She knocked.
“Come in,” both voices said.
When Vivra opened the door, a Terran female with short, curly, blond hair, and a tall Yunkin—the first mate, Yon—were in the room. Both stood stiffly on opposite sides of the desk, the female on the primary side, and the Yunkin on the receiving end.
“What can I help you with?” the female said. Vivra knew this had to be Sasha. The Cerebral’s half-Kooyon wife.
“I need a pilot to take me to Brica.”
Yon scowled. “Why is a logistics officer going down to a potentially hostile planet?”
“I’m pretty sure she was talking to me, Yon,” Sasha said with her hands hooked on her hips.
Yon was one of the captain’s loyal crew members. One of the six that had traveled with him when he first arrived.
“The question is valid,” Yon said, ignoring Sasha altogether. “And since Sasha is already signed up to take Pax down to the planet, the only other pilot is me. So, again, I’m going to ask, why are you planning to go down to the planet?”
Vivra didn’t smile or try to come across as friendly. He was a typical Yunkin, who closed off his emotions and focused on his job. And only the job. She answered him in short, to-the-point sentences. “Hydro and aquaponics can’t grow and raise our food without proper fish tanks. There is a storage house on Brica that is selling us a tank. It’s not anywhere near the mission site. It will be a quick touch down and pick up.”
“Aquaponics?” Sasha asked.
Before Vivra could answer, Yon stepped forward. “I’m sure your presence would be better served on the ship. I can go down and pick up the tanks.”
He could. But he was also being rude. Rude to Sasha, who was the primary flight officer, and dismissive to her. “You could, but what do you know about tanks? About the fish that go in them and the right sealant?” She didn’t wait for him to say anything. “I’m the logistics officer, this is my job. If you don’t think I can do my job, you can take that up with the captain.”
Yon’s nose flared. “If you already ordered the tank, I don’t need to know anything more about it.”
If Dol weren’t in a containment center under the ship, he would be going down with her to verify the tanks, but he was, and the Garna really needed those tanks. Rations went fast when it was the only thing available. Not to mention, they were headed to the Osbati galaxy, and there weren’t any port planets in that system. “And if they give you the wrong tank? The wrong sealant? It will be too late by the time you return.”
“I’m sure they know not to double-cross the Federation.”
Yon was naive if he thought that. In space, it was about power and money, and while the Federation did subtle monitoring, they didn’t interfere with planet politics. Mostly, the Federation stopped planet-wide genocide and gave aid when asked. They audited the planets and moons under their jurisdiction to make sure they were operating within the laws.
Vivra took a calming breath and said, “I’m going.”
“I’m flying,” Yon said.
“Thank you. I will send you the time and date and where we’ll be picking up the tanks,” Vivra added before turning on her heel.
Behind her, Yon said, “Do you need me to schedule the sloop?”
“I know how to write a flight plan, Yon,” Sasha returned.
“Considering that you’ve only been a Federation pilot for two days, it was a reasonable question.”
Vivra couldn’t hear what Sasha said after that. She was too far away. Her Minky pad pinged once she was back on the elevator. The storage house on Brica had responded: Sure, what do you want to know?
***
Vivra invited Clalls and Pax to her office before initiating a quantum call. It was best to have all the people who needed the information there at the same time. She hoped that her contact did have all the information she needed. And if they didn’t have everything, they would at least have something, and she was realizing quickly that she could do a lot with something.
She was sitting on her stool at her three-hundred-and-sixty-degree desk when Pax walked in. “Day two, and you already have a contact on the ground. Trying to impress me, sweetpea?”
Clalls, who had been behind Pax, responded. “She’s going to file a report with the captain if you keep talking to her like that. She eats guys like you for breakfast.”
Pax turned, apparently surprised that Clalls was behind him. “Maybe, or she’ll use the pixy pistol she has in her side pocket. But I like to live on the wild side.”
Clalls’ teeth glistened with a broad smile. “You’ve been hiding a pixy pistol?” he said with a conspiratorial wink. “Can I borrow it for a day?”
“Nope.”
Pax pulled up two chairs, one for him and the other for Clalls. He sniffed the air and then said, “Good call, sugar pim.”
Ugh. “Don’t call me sugar pim, sweetpea, or any other of your stupid lovey names.”
“Is that what they are? Lovey names?” Pax sat his large body down on a stool.
“Yes.”
“So, you think I love you? That’s crazy. I didn’t know I loved you.” He was as close to her desk as he could get. In her space, and eating it up as he rested his forearm down. She knew she had to reclaim her bubble, not let him think he could take possession of her office or her room, so she pulled out the pixy pistol and set it in front of her, tapping it gently. “I’m pretty sure I’d love to use this on you. Please continue being a tarq.”
Clalls snorted. “Twenty keleps says she lets you kiss her before she shoots you.”
Pax barely looked at Clalls when he said, “Twenty keleps to you if you leave and let us talk to this guy ourselves.”
Vivra snickered at Pax’s presumptuousness. He had no idea that she and Clalls were a team now. Vivra pushed the Minky screen and initiated the quantum call. While she adjusted the video to include the other two, she watched as Clalls held out his hand. Pax pulled out his Minky pad and held it up, pointing at the transfer button.
Once Pax had pushed transfer on the keleps, Clalls, with a quick hop, was off the guest stool and walking out the door.
Her jaw dropped. “He did not.”
Pax didn’t look triumphant as he explained. “He’s a Night Demon. Money and power are their motivators. And if you think otherwise, you’re setting yourself up for a bad fall. Do yourself a favor and never forget that.”
Turning her head, Vivra realized they were inches apart, and Pax didn’t seem to mind the closeness. She did, and she resented what he had said about Clalls. She was also pissed that Clalls had actually left. Her feelings were split. Refusing to show that she let Pax’s closeness bother her, she moved forward just a little bit more. She could feel the heat of his breath. Smell his sultry, woodsy, male scent. “I’m a Bolark. We also only care about money and power.”
“I know,” Pax whispered and sat back, looking smug. “That’s why I can only handle one of you at a time.”
His words hit something inside her. They were lies. He just wanted her alone.
On the Minky screen, a Red Demon appeared. He had thick, black hair, braided down the top of his head and back. His shirt was black and tightly fitted. He looked big, but his smile was bigger. “Hello, sweetheart. If I knew you looked this good, I would have given you a discount for being so gorgeous.”
Pax stood up, rolled his shoulders back, and peered down at the screen, trying to appear imposing, intimidating, and domineering. Vivra kept her smile contained, but apparently, Red Demons were more animalistic than she thought.
“Hello to you, too, Mish.” She touched Pax’s large upper arm. “This is our weapons and tactical leader, Commander Pax. He will be joining our call.” After she’d touched him, she could have sworn he let out a shallow breath.
“Three’s not a crowd for me, honey.”
The lovey names just flew out of Mish’s mouth, and she had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep a straight face. She would definitely be bringing her pixy pistol when she met him. If she was lucky, she’d get to shoot him.