Trapped: Chaos Core Book 1 (11 page)

“I’ve seen a few
from the other end,” Aspen explained.

“I’d sign up for
this ship,” Della added. “Even if you just need someone to keep
it clean.”

“We’ll see if I
still have a ship in a few days,” Aspen said. “But you’re
right, there’s more business coming. I think I’m dressed for it.”

Della handed her the
pilot’s gun, she’d found the holster and put the two together.
There was a strap with six clips in it. Aspen hadn’t even realized
that she’d lost track of her weapon. “You’re going to need
this. I wish I was good in a fight, or could fly a ship, or even
shoot a gun, but I’m pretty useless when you look at it. I can
clean though, and take care of people.”

“That’s the kind of
thing that makes a ship feel like a home,” Aspen said, trying to
adjust the straps at the top of her boot so they made loops that
would hold clips along the front. Mirra helped, providing the third
hand she was missing. “She can cook like a gourmet droid, make
something out of three pieces of nothing.”

“Shush, you’ll
raise expectations,” Della said as she took Aspen’s jacket and
found the right way to hang the gun holster inside it. “I promise
I’ll never give you a reason to point that at me again,” she said
as she put the jacket back on Aspen. The gun wasn’t so weighty that
it felt off balance, and it only took her a moment to adjust to it
hanging under her shoulder. She faintly wished she had something
else, a weapon that didn’t kill the person she loved more than
anything in the universe, but it was an intimidating weapon.

“I really hope that’s
true,” Aspen said. “But you may be safer going off on your own
after you get paid. This ship is already wanted, and I’m positive
that I’m headed into another dangerous situation. Just think about
it, I appreciate your offer to help, and if I end up with a ship to
call my own at the end of this, I’ll need people just like you, but
the danger is very real. I don’t want you to follow me into
something you can’t handle because you thought you owed me.” She
recalled a moment where she considered spacing them and felt a dull
pang of guilt. “You would have ended up with a head start one way
or another. How you decide to use your freedom is up to you, and I’d
love it if you joined me on a ship, but it probably won’t be this
one, and I know I’m dangerous to be around. They enslave or execute
outlaws here, and that’s what I am now.”

“We know,” Della
said. “For the right reasons.”

“What she said,”
Mirra added. “Now let’s see what else we can find aboard.”

“We split platinum so
I get seventy percent, you two split the rest,” Aspen said.

“What? But…”
Della said.

“That’s how
captains do it,” Mirra said. “Most actually take between eighty
or ninety-five, because of the cost of maintaining the ship and the
responsibility they shoulder.”

“Oh, that makes
sense.”

“Besides, we’re
going to find a lot of plat,” Mirra said. “There was a lot of
heavy luggage delivered ahead of us.”

“We should start
piling valuables and staples in the main hold too,” Aspen said. “We
need to know how much loose items of value and food we have. The
galley is always stocked on this old bird before long trips, so I’ll
check that with a quick look.”

“Can I go clothes
hunting while we do this?” Della asked.

“Sure,” Aspen said.
“We’re on an eleven-hour jump, then at least one more after that.
I’m just hoping the Rinnel family pays up. I only have three
thousand credits in my personal account. I can’t cover your shares
from the ransom attempt on that.”

“I haven’t been
allowed to have a bank account for seven years,” Della said.

“What she said,”
Mirra added.

“Okay, you two get
started, I’m going to plan our next jump,” said.

So the looting began
while Aspen made sure the galley was stocked and was satisfied that
every cupboard and dispenser was full, then returned to the cockpit,
averting her eyes from the sheet against the rear bulkhead.

It only took her a few
minutes to find where Sun and the three other crewmembers were
brought, and it wasn’t where she’d hoped. They were working in a
fungus yard on Tullast, skimming food from a swampy plantation as it
rose to the surface – if you could call that protein scum food.

She’d visited the
prettier sides of Tullast with the Countess when she and Larken were
young teenagers. The beaches and springs there were beautiful, and
they had a lot of carefree time while the Countess attended to other
business.

Spin returned to the
matter at hand. The rescue was problematic. The ground was soft, so
she’d have to carefully hover so people could get on, but she
wouldn’t know where her friends were until she got within ten
kilometres so she could scan for their biometrics readings. A hard
scan like that would raise suspicion, so she needed someone to make
some noise. The only thing she could think of was putting Della and
Mirra in two of the five gun turrets and using one of the forward
missile launchers to blow something up. It was risky, she had no idea
if either of them could shoot, and would risk setting a processing
tank off if she fired a missile anywhere but the swampy open fungus
pit, and that’s where her friends would most likely be.

The plan looked ugly no
matter how she approached it. She wished she could just set the Fleet
Feather down and pretend she was about the Countess’ business, but
there was a fair chance that someone sent a message to Tullast,
telling the foremen there to expect a breakout attempt.

She left the cockpit
and made her way to the rear hold, deciding on a plan by the time she
got there. “Okay, I’m going to need your help to pull this off.”
She said, then stopped at the sight of racks of clothing, cases of
fine bottles with even finer liquids inside, and three metal bullion
cases.

“These are full,”
Della said, tossing a glittering rectangle of platinum at her. It
glittered in her hand, the serial number and UCA stamped along with
the denomination – 1,000 – in industrial grade blue diamonds.
“Fifty thousand molecularly stamped platinum in each case in large
denominations. That piece isn’t from the cases.”

“It’s from some of
the loose plat we found, about seventeen thousand worth from the
luggage. There’s also another twenty-eight thousand from our old
master’s personal safe,” Mirra said, smiling as much as Della.

“You guys keep that,”
said, in awe of the cash they’d found and how organized everything
else was. “We’ll split the cased and loose stuff the way we
discussed if that’s all right.”

“You’re going to
have to stop asking us if it’s all right,” Della said. “If
you’re going to be a captain.”

“I’m not a captain,
I’ve pirated a ship and technically stolen two slaves that I’ll
be setting free. I’m an escaped slave whose devalued because her
mated partner is dead, and an outlaw for theft and kidnapping. When
someone checks the Stellarnet for the definition of ‘trouble’ in
the future, there will be a picture of me.”

“We’re going to be
hard to get rid of,” Mirra said. “If this is the kind of trouble
you get into, I think I want to get involved, at least for a while.”

“We’ll see.”
Aspen ran her hands down one of the clothing racks and shook her
head. “You did this in the hour I was in the cockpit. I can’t
believe it. I also expected to find a mountain of clothing and other
loot just dumped in the cargo bay, that’s how most quick looting
jobs go.”

“We’re better at
quickies, I guess,” Della said.

“So, where are we
going to sell our booty?” Mirra asked.

“Well, we’re going
to get ready to take on some passengers’ tomorrow, so we’ll have
to lock it up once you two are finished taking your pick of clothes.
Then, well, I know a few places that should buy most of this stuff.
Maybe, it’s dangerous. We’re going to have bounties on our heads,
slave hunters might already be looking for us. Anyway, dig in.”

Mirra and Della stood
and eagerly began rifling through the clothing racks, leaving Spin to
turn the platinum chip over in her hand. It was the most valued
currency in the galaxy, and she had enough to buy a lightly armed
ship that could take a small crew on her own. That wasn’t something
she could do legitimately though, she was registered as a slave, so
she couldn’t purchase anything legally. As an alternative, she
could try to run carrying thousands in raw currency on her back. No.
If she managed to rescue her friends, she would figure out her next
move.

Either the medication
wasn’t working, or her desire to raid and pillage the Countess’
business interests wasn’t just a part of her desire for revenge, it
was the best option she had. She looked to the pair of women who were
enjoying their taste of freedom. Mirra was putting a short, white
miniskirt on over her thin green consuit. She looked up at her,
smiling, it may have been the best time she’d had in years. Spin
nodded and smiled back. “That works for you,” she said.

“There’s a top,
too,” Della said, putting a loose fitting tank top on her friend.

Spin didn’t have a
problem risking her life saving her friends, but she didn’t know if
she could live with herself if she led those two into a situation
where they lost theirs. She caught her reflection in the platinum
rectangle in her hand and saw as much of Larken in her appearance as
her own. “Did you find any hair colour stuff?” she asked.

Mirra pulled a tiny box
from a small storage crate and handed it to her. “I think I found
what I’m wearing,” she said, pulling the tank top into place over
her consuit. The white skirt and tank top looked right overtop of the
green suit, partially because it looked more painted on than worn.
The new layer to the outfit offered enough modesty to suit Mirra, it
seemed.

Spin held the tiny box
up in front of Mirra and clicked a button on the back. “I hope you
don’t mind if I steal your hair colour.”

“No problem, it’s
the style of the week, now that I can change it whenever I want,
anyway.”

Spin held the device
over her head and it released what seemed like an oil at first, but
as she spread it through her hair, it disappeared. The warm brown she
ended up with was exactly what she wanted.

“That’s nice on
you,” Della said, taking a few steps in her direction with four
different outfits in her hands.

“Thanks,” said.
“Having trouble choosing?”

“There’s so much
here,” Della said with a hint of despair. “This isn’t even all
the clothes; this is just what’s sellable now.”

Mirra and Della helped
her try things on for the next two hours. A process that was fun most
of the time, a good distraction. As Della found a long, stretchy
dress that would go well over a flesh coloured consuit that she took
half an hour choosing, Mirra noticed that Spin had gone quiet.

“Are you okay?” she
asked her quietly as Della picked and pulled at the dress, making
final adjustments to the fit.

“I think I’m ready
to move Larken,” said.

“Okay,” Mirra said.

Spin crossed the cargo
bay and took an emergency stretcher down, then Mirra followed her to
the cockpit. They gently moved him from there to the small medbay,
where they laid him inside an emergency stasis capsule with wheels
and closed it. She stood there, with her hands on the foot of the
capsule for a long moment, feeling grief that she knew would have her
wailing if she wasn’t medicated, wash over here.

“Is it okay if I say
something for him?” Mirra asked quietly.

Spin nodded.

“Hello, Larken,”
she said. “I saw you and Spin last night, and you were beautiful
together. I know she’ll remember you for the rest of her life, and
all the good moments you shared together. She’s resting her heart
now, because she has work to do, but I know she grieves.” A tear
slipped from Mirra’s eye. “She loved you, and she’ll remember
you. It’s good to be known by great people when you pass, and Aspen
is a great woman. She set me free today, so I’ll watch her for you.
I can’t take your place, no one can, but I promise to stay with her
until I’m sure she doesn’t need me, then I’ll probably stay a
lot longer. We wish you were here, but you’ve gone on ahead, so be
at peace as you roam, and we’ll see you again some day.”

“Thank you,” said,
sighing through a wave of grief.

Mirra moved to her side
and put her arm around her. “I’ve seen people cry on that sort of
medication before,” she wiped a tear from her own eye. “It’s
okay, we understand.”

“Dolls can’t cry,”
she replied. “And call me Spin.”

Even though they’d
done everything they could to help her, Spin was wary of her new
friends. She waited until they went to sleep before thinking of where
and how she’d rest. They didn’t seem to have any misgivings about
closing their eyes for a while, taking two of the finest rooms.

Spin decided to look
around the cargo bay for survival equipment and she found a sleeping
bag before long. The compromise was simple, even though it would
definitely show that she still didn’t entirely trust her new
friends. She would sleep on the floor at the back of the cockpit and
lock the door.

Someone, most likely
Della, had cleaned the blood and swept up the metal shards from the
rounds that killed Larken. You would never know that he died there,
even the smell was gone. Spin laid her sleeping bag down on top of
where Larken’s body was, locked the door, set her alarm, undressed
and slipped inside.

Even though her head
was spinning as she went over and over the events of the previous day
in her head, she found herself dozing off. “Too much happened
today,” Spin whispered to herself before she finally drifted into a
black sleep.

Spin’s alarm woke her
up by sending gentle, tickling impulses through the computer bonded
to her forearm. It felt as though she’d slept for days, and she
unlocked the cockpit door, then sat in the pilot’s seat.