Chapter Seven
Trust Has A Reputation
Sixteen hours into her workday, Vivra’s stomach was rioting, and her headache had worsened. She needed food. She needed something to drink, and a trip to the bathroom to relieve herself.
Her fingers shook as she continued searching for answers on Brica.
She’d planned to let Pax seduce her, but after this afternoon, she’d probably strangle him while she rode him. Killing the commander was likely frowned upon. Especially since he was a part of the elite crew the captain had brought with him.
Whenever there was a shift of command on a ship, it was smart to find out who the captain favored. They would be his most loyal crew. Rannn brought six with him.
Yon, another Yunkin who used to be the primary pilot. Vivra had checked his records. He had perfect accuracy and never lost a ship.
Sasha, another pilot who was brand new to the Federation. The female looked Terran, but according to her file, she was half Kooyon, a race Vivra was not familiar with, but it was known they had stunning pilot abilities.
Ansel, the captain’s Numan medical officer. So far, Vivra had concluded that he was well informed and generous. Which reminded her to take her daily vitamin.
Next was a Cerebral named Sci. One of a telepathic and telekinetic race who were forbidden in Federation space let alone on a Federation ship. Vivra couldn’t see why Rannn had brought him. It made no sense, and it freaked her out a little to have one aboard.
Reaching behind her neck, she felt for the small, white disk that was a cerebral blocker. It would inhibit the Cerebral from hearing her thoughts and turning her into a mental slave.
Sands was a cyborg that Rannn had assigned as lead of engineering. Interestingly, he wasn’t a Federation cyborg, and his cybernetics didn’t look familiar. Vivra didn’t find much in his file other than that he had been brought on as a FAVII by the captain. But he had gained access to the ship’s system before given authority. That was curious.
Then there was Pax, the Red Demon. A tactical and weapons expert. By the look of the scars on his hands and his jaw, she could only assume that he had been in a few fights. Which…kind of turned her on, truth be told.
Maybe she should call him and see if he wanted to meet her in the galley for a drink before...
Vivra stopped typing when she heard the door to her office open. She reached down to grab her pixy pistol before looking at the intruder. Pulling it out, she pointed it at the door and then realized that it wasn’t Pax. Clalls had stopped walking towards her desk, both of his hands up. One clutching a blue bag.
Trying to think of a reason for him to be in her office, she determined that he was here to apologize for not doing his job. Since she was the one who’d caught the Merimore.
Frustrated, she returned the pistol to her pocket and continued her quest for who was responsible for updating the archives on Brica. All of them…fifty years old. Not one file had been updated recently.
Clalls cleared his throat. “Permission to enter with offerings of Niffy juice and three ready-to-eat bula pastas.”
Her stomach fluttered excitedly at his offering. Just the thought of eating three bula pasta packets sent her blood into a ravenous state of hunger. But more to the quandary…why did Clalls bring her food? Is this a Night Demon trick?
When she didn’t respond, Clalls frowned. It looked genuine, and Vivra felt a small pinch of guilt. Maybe it wasn’t a trick.
Clalls pulled out a packet and walked it over to her snack area and set it in her warmer. Then he pulled out the four Niffy juice packets.
Half a moment later, he lifted his head, smiling a big predator smile with glistening teeth and a mischievous glint to his eyes. From his other pocket, he pulled out a small, red, hard algae candy.
She stopped typing to get a better look.
Bolark candy?
Vivra moved away from the circular desk and ran to Clalls. The Night Demon’s smile fell when she jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You amazing Demon. How long have you been holding onto that?”
Clalls barely tapped her back, looking uncomfortable with the physical contact. She let him go and snatched the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth, savoring the spicy and sweet flavor. Unwilling to suck too long, she crunched it between her teeth and swallowed it down. The little bit that coated her tongue was a wonderful, short-lived heaven.
The treat had revved her insatiable hunger. She grabbed the bag and dropped the last two ready-to-eat meals into the warmer. She unscrewed the top of the fizzy juice with its hyper-focusing properties and drank it down in a gulp. It was almost too good to be true, Clalls being the one to offer her this amazing harvest.
But then she remembered that he never gave until he received. And she had given by alerting him about the Merimore.
It took her less than five minutes to polish off all the food and juice. Once she’d finished, she settled on the top of the desk and felt the warmth of the food spread throughout her body. Happiness is food. “Food. Is. Good.” Words were hard. Almost impossible when the heavy tomato sauce and the algae pasta slowly warmed every inch of her cold heart. Her stomach ache was now gone, and her headache was quickly disappearing.
She just needed to soak up the moment.
Clalls grabbed his neck. “You’re welcome. And, thanks for catching the unauthorized ship.”
That’s what she figured he was paying her back for.
So, it was a recompense, but now that she’d eaten, she was more than happy to have his apology. “I have no idea if it will be the last. I can’t find any shipment manifest on Brica’s archives. It’s like the planet doesn’t exist, and yet, operations are still ongoing.”
Clalls dropped his hand. His black eyes with their yellow irises dulled a bit. “Out of the thirty-eight mines on that list, five had the same contact information. When I talked to the commander of those mines, he told me that all he does is make sure the shipments get out on time. No documentation. And,”—he fanned out his hands—“the mine workers are subcontracted, the security is subcontracted, and the workers are brought in by private companies. He is not given any information at all. All he cared about was making sure the workers were healthy, the rations were distributed quickly, the security guards were professional, and the shipments went out on time.”
So Clalls didn’t drop the ball. He was just as lost on his own tasks, and he didn’t pay attention to who was coming and going.
Clalls continued. “We don’t have any satellites on that planet. But I was able to intercept a few quantum messages from the commander who ran the Cenlura mine.”
Clalls was too smart and too careful to let a comment like that out unless he wanted her to know.
“And?”
The side of the Demon’s mouth curled up. “And I think I’ve found out who’s responsible for Brica.”
“Who’s that?”
Clalls pulled out his Minky pad and typed a few things then brushed the top bar of the program he was using. Three of her Minky screens winked out, and another image showed on them.
She took a step towards her desk instead of cursing that he had hacked her system again. She hated that he was able to get into her files so easily. If he messed with any of her shipments or manifests, it would mean her job. He knew she hated it, and yet he still did it.
It was what made their—albeit loose—understanding of each other hard to process.
If she told Captain Rannn about Clalls’ hacking and breaches of privacy, she didn’t know if she would get the same results as she had with Captain Mosel. Being dismissed and demoted.
Clalls covered his tracks too well, and she could likely never prove it. Even now, she wondered if he knew that and was flaunting it in her face.
But if he were showing off, why was he doing it by revealing someone else’s secrets. With that thought in mind, Vivra wondered if he didn’t even see it as an issue. As if he had already earned some right to take over her system.
Bolarks had a conflict of culture, which made working in the Federation difficult. Yunkins were all about honor, and Bolarks were known for being competitive, driven, and willing to succeed at all costs. Clalls was more like a Bolark than a Yunkin in that sense, but he also was unpredictable and hard to read, which made him more Demon than Yunkin or Bolark.
Clalls answered, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Admiral Orin.”
“What?” It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but then again, Admiral Orin had given Captain Rannn the orders for the planet. How would he know about the commander who’d sent a quantum emergency message if not…directly to him?
Vivra was still quietly pondering the ramifications when Clalls added, “I’ve scheduled a meeting with the captain in the morning to go over this, in hopes that he calls Admiral Orin out for being dishonorable. I mean, he’s pretty much the center of this whole thing.”
Vivra swallowed. “Yunkins are honor-bound. I don’t understand how he could let this happen to the planet.”
“Yunkins pretend they’re infallible. I’m an example of their fallibility. Born to unknown parents, left in a zoo on Marnak with a note saying: Needs a loving family. You can think whatever you want about the so-called honorable race, but you’ll never convince me they are.”
It took all of Vivra’s willpower to not show him pity. It also cut into her belief system. Yunkins were honor-bound. She had seen it over and over again. She resented it sometimes because it didn’t suit her self-imposed codes of conduct. But, all in all, Yunkins could be trusted. And Clalls had just cut that trust, her belief, in half.
Focusing away from his woes, she said, “I’ve been searching, and I can’t find much about anything regarding Brica’s latest mining operation. But I did do a little research on Merimore. It’s not a Federation ship, but it’s been Federation vetted. They take contracts from all over the universe, and they are known for always meeting their deadlines. The captain’s going rate is ridiculously high.”
Clalls typed something on his Minky, and she wondered if he was going to look into the Merimore, too. That would be an inefficient use of his time, but she wasn’t his boss. “So that was what I was working on instead of monitoring the Merimore.” The original images popped back up on the Minky screens, and Clalls slipped his pad back into his side pocket. Perching lightly on the desk, he crossed his arms, looking at her expectantly.
“Is there more?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Is there?”
Narrowing her eyes, she had no idea what he was getting at. This was why Clalls bugged her. He was never straightforward.
“If you have a point. I think you should make it.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her, then after several long moments, he half smiled, but it looked forced.
The whole creepy smile thing just irritated her more. “What?”
“This could have been your shining moment. You fixed what I blundered. And you stand there as if everything is fine. Even my instincts are telling me, it is fine. But how is it fine? Last time we actually worked together, you took me to the captain and tried to get me demoted and kicked off the ship.”
She did do those things. And she wasn’t going to apologize for taking Clalls to the captain. He had crossed the line then.
But at the moment, the Merimore was not significant to the whole mission. It was just an added problem.
Plus, when it came down to it, she knew real fear, real death, and she didn’t want to turn him in.
That last part surprised her, but not in a shocking way. More in a way that said they had history, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him. Let alone for him to be kicked off the ship.
But how did she tell him that it was nothing without losing her edge, her reputation for cracking down on those who didn’t do their job? “You deserved it on Yerg. You made a deal with a scrap-planet provider before we’d even set foot there. And then everyone—including you—got food poisoning.”
A slow half-smile. “Yeah, not my best moment.”
“But this was different. You didn’t set me up to look bad. However, if I get sick from the bula, I’m going to be pissed.”
His smile fell. “You’re not going to get sick.” She felt his tone. He didn’t like her questioning him or his gift.
She wanted to giggle.
A side effect of Niffy juice.
“We’re good. We’re a team,” Vivra said back.
“I’ve coined us the original thirty-six survivors.”
She paused in her typing. She liked that. It made her feel like a powerful survivor instead of a stroke of luck. “Good name.”
“I could make us shirts or colorful little stickers.” His tone was playful, and he stood as close to the desk as he could get without actually touching it.
“Then everyone would ask what it is, and we’d have a ship full of terrified crew members who didn’t realize they had inadvertently transferred to a ship that had thousands of dead bodies on it just a bit ago. Someone would start calling the Garna the ghost ship.”
Clalls shrugged. “I could make it into a neat symbol. It could be our secret.” His white eyebrow lifted, and she was pretty sure that he was genuinely asking if he should.
Clalls’ Minky pad pinged from his pocket, giving her a reprieve from answering. But her stay ended when she saw his jaw drop.
“What?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he started to growl with his teeth exposed. Nothing in Vivra’s life had ever scared her more. “That son of a tarq!”