April bent their head forward so Layth could lay a plaster over the sutures. “You didn’t go down to the surface.”
“Fortunately for you.” He crossed the small med bay to clean and sterilize his tools. “Otherwise you could have bled to death.”
“Hardly.” They folded their arms across their chest and leaned against the door to the med bay. “Even you admitted it was a shallow cut. Scalp wounds bleed fiercely. Are you not from Burbidge?”
Layth sucked in a breath at the statement but didn’t turn around. He tucked a hand in his pocket and stroked the scrap of fabric he kept there with his thumb until his heart rate slowed again.
April continued. “Your accent is faint, but I have a good ear for them.”
“Apparently.” He’d tried to lose his accent before he’d come aboard, and until now had thought he’d been successful. “And while I was raised there, it’s no kind of home. I’ve seen all it had to offer. No need to revisit.”
He crushed the scrap in his fist, waiting for the shake in his hands to pass. Too many memories on Burbidge, and too few of them good. Better to be up in space where he belonged.
“I should go,” April said. “I want to adjust the Sentinel’s transit drives before we change systems, and Captain Barnes indicated that the cargo would need to move quickly.”
Layth nodded but didn’t turn around. “I’ll come down to the core in a standard day, just to check on how you’re healing. No need for you to come up.”
The engineer offered a quick thanks, then headed out the door toward the ladder that would take them into the center of the ship’s rotation and the comfortable microgravity of the ship’s engine room. Once they’d left, Layth allowed himself to lean against the patched scanner table for support. Having April refer to him as a friend had been a surprise, albeit not unwelcome. While he was grateful to Captain Barnes, and tolerated the rest of the crew, he had to admit he enjoyed his encounters with the reclusive engineer.
Their figuring out he was from Burbidge was…less welcome.
He put the tools back into their spaces and locked them down so they wouldn’t be jostled if the ship changed direction suddenly. The drawer beneath, where he kept his suture kits, was nearly empty. His supplies were dwindling faster than they could replace them—a byproduct of having a security team that apparently punched first and asked questions never. He went to the meager drug stores and checked his supply of suetrex. The synthetic opioid still fetched a decent price in most black markets. Wherever they went next, chances were good he could sell a bottle for enough to restock the suture kits.
Guilt scraped the back of his conscience. He should feel worse about releasing the painkiller into the underground markets, where it was certain to aid someone’s addiction. But weighed against the needs of the crew that had accepted him—no questions asked—it wasn’t even a contest.
His omnidevice pinged, and Layth tugged it out of the pocket of his scrub pants and set it on the counter. A few seconds after he connected, Captain Barnes’s face filled the small screen. Layth nodded. “Ma’am?”
The lag was short, the Sentinel was in orbit after all, and between the relay satellites and their own proximity it was probably less than four seconds. “You’re in medical? I would have expected you to be in your quarters.”
Not an uncommon place for him to be; he often spent time in his cabin even when the rest of the crew were on the ship. He didn’t go out of his way to avoid them, but the easy, familiar way they interacted made him feel like an outsider. It wasn’t their intent, and they’d be shocked to hear it, he knew, but he worried about inserting himself into their family more than was necessary. Plus, they lived dangerous lives. Closing up a plasma wound in a family member was frightening enough. Losing one would be…worse. In ways he didn’t like to think about.
Right. Captain Barnes. Layth let out the breath he’d been holding. “Yes. April cracked their head on a conduit. I just got done closing them up. Are you calling to ask what supplies I need?”
Barnes grimaced. “Medical is getting hard to find. The JTF is locking down emergency supplies pretty tightly.”
No doubt the Joint Forces thought it would help, adding attrition to the damage done to the various pirates and criminals they fought. Problem was, it made things rough on unaffiliated traders of all legalities. And the criminals could always steal the things they needed in the first place. He dragged a hand down his face. “Well, if you happen to see any SkinSeal, you should grab it. We’re low.”
The captain nodded. “Can do. We’re bringing aboard a passenger.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked before thinking about how it sounded, and quickly appended, “Not to question your authority, ma’am.”
Her face had hardened before the apology came through and she relaxed a moment later. “She’s on the run, and she’s a lost lamb down here. Better to bring her aboard before someone else grabs her.”
He wasn’t stupid, and he knew trafficking happened in the darker corners of the Three Systems. At the same time, bringing a stranger onto their ship was a risk. It introduced an unknown quantity. Chaos was a threat to the people he cared about, and he didn’t like threats.
“I’ll set up scans for her and everything she brings on board, Captain. That will tell us if she’s a spy, witting or not.” The bio-scanners in the med bay were useful for that at least. And he knew how to tune sensors internally for any unauthorized transmissions. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would give them plenty of warning if the captain’s new charity case was carrying bugs or a tracker.
“It’s like you read my mind, Layth. We’ll be headed back to orbit in two hours.”
“I’ll make sure there’s a passenger cabin ready for her.” He paused and grinned. “She is getting her own quarters, right? It’s not like the last one you smuggled aboard?”
Captain Barnes laughed. “Technically, Mr. Barr smuggled her aboard.”
“The question stands.” While he hadn’t trusted her at first, Sheri Tyler had been a good addition to the crew. And she kept Barr, the Sentinel’s security chief, from being quite so angry all the time. Their closeness was bound to end in heartache sooner or later, but he couldn’t deny that the two were happy.
“Get to work, Mr. Ali.” Captain Barnes’s grin was broad as she ended the call.
2
Meja paced back and forth in the shuttle, waiting for the doors to open. It didn’t seem real, despite the physicality of acceleration and the way she’d watched Burbidge shrink away on the shuttle’s viewscreens. She half expected the doors to open and reveal Golden’s security waiting to drag her back. Except, no. If Captain Barnes was going to try that, she’d have asked for payment up front, not once they’d reached the ship.
“Sit down already. It takes a few to shut everything down.” The speaker, a woman with spiky blonde hair and a scar through one eyebrow, had introduced herself as Sheri. Given the way they couldn’t stop touching each other, and the irritating grins they shared, Meja assumed she was sleeping with the boatswain, Barr.