Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) (16 page)

“What?” The voice sounded muffled.

“Kondur’s new people are here, Skip.”

Silence greeted that statement for several heartbeats. Long enough for Natalya to glance at Zoya.

Zoya rolled her eyes and shrugged.

A sharp thump vibrated the deck under their feet and the cabin door swung open, snatched from the inside by a wild-eyed man with a patchy gray beard and a wispy gray pony-tail. His collar held gold stars but his shipsuit looked like he’d slept in it for a week. “Kondur?”

Natalya nodded. “Said you needed an engineering third and a third mate. He sent us.”

He looked each of them up and down with a sour expression. “Couldn’t find real ones, huh?”

Natalya shrugged. “We’re the ones he sent, so, I guess not.”

He shot her a glance that might have had some approval behind it, although Natalya couldn’t quite tell. He stepped back from the door, holding it open for them. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come on in and report.” He looked at the rating. “Don’t you have brow watch, Helms?”

“Yeah.” He nodded to Natalya and Zoya before flipping his middle finger at the captain where he couldn’t see it as he shambled down the passageway the way they’d come in.

Natalya suppressed her grin and stepped through the door to the cabin.

The cabin looked barely lived in. A grav-trunk stood in the middle of the deck and the only sign that somebody lived there was a small, framed image on the desk.

“So, Kondur sent you. You know anything about engines?” Trask asked, scowling at Natalya.

“Some. I fly an Explorer Scout and do most of my own maintenance.”

That earned her a double-take and a short nod before he turned to Zoya. “What about you? You ever stood a real watch on a real ship?”

“Started running ore haulers when I was twelve,” Zoya said.

His eyebrows shot up. “When you say ‘running ore haulers’ that means what?”

“It means I brought in a few hundred thousand cubic meters of ore from the belts in Margary in a big damn ship.”

“By yourself?”

She tsked. “Of course not. I had a crew of four.”

“And they followed a twelve-year-old?”

“They followed the owner’s granddaughter.” Ice wouldn’t have melted in her mouth.

He rubbed the palm of one hand across his lips and squinted his eyes a little. “Yeah. I can see that.” He paused for a moment. “You know your way around systems?”

“I can run a backup. You still running Mark Twelve consoles?” Zoya asked.

“Hell if I know. I press the buttons. They do the work.”

She smiled. “Good enough.”

He nodded a few times, his gaze going back and forth between them. Finally, he stuck out a hand. “Thomas Trask.”

Natalya shook his hand and noticed the calluses across the palm. “Natalya Regyri.”

He offered his hand to Zoya.

She shook it and nodded. “Zoya Usoko.”

His eyes widened just a bit at that. “Margary. Usoko Mining?”

“My grandparents’ company.”

“Why the hell are you out here?” The words seemed to boil out of him before he gave them any thought.

Zoya jerked a thumb at Natalya. “She brought me.”

He focused on Natalya. “Regyri. I know that name.”

“Seems like everybody does,” she said.

“You flew that scout in here, right? You’re Demetri’s what? Daughter?”

She nodded.

His face lit up. “I’ll be damned. Where’s he at now?”

“Somewhere out here in Toe-Hold space. I lost track when he split with my mother.”

The captain nodded. “Ah. Makes sense. He gave you the scout?”

“Yeah.”

“Never thought he’d part with that. What’s he flying these days?”

“No idea. Haven’t seen him for a couple of stanyers. Thumbing a ride as far as I know.”

The captain’s wheezy laugh filled the cabin. “I doubt that. He’s got a hidey-hole out here somewhere. He’s not gonna let anybody else fly him to it.”

Natalya smiled but glanced at Zoya, whose expression had gone blank.

“So, what’s the drill here, Skipper?” Natalya asked.

He nodded them into chairs and plopped himself behind the desk. “Kondur’s trading a can of ore for a can of white oil.”

“In Siren?” Zoya asked.

The old guy’s gaze flipped to her. “He told you that?”

They both nodded.

“Huh. Well, yeah. Siren. We’ve got a supplier there who can handle cargo for us.”

“White oil?” Natalya asked.

“It’s a class of food-grade lubricant,” Zoya said.

Trask grinned and nodded. “You’d know. We use a lot of it in the hydroponics farms.”

“Gramps used it for the same purpose.” She smiled back at him. “Just not two hundred metric kilotons at a time.”

“Kondur’ll split it up. He usually buys a can, uses half and sells the rest around Toe-Hold.”

“You know a lot about his operation?” Natalya asked.

“Naw. Mostly I run his mining tender fleet but about once a stanyer he taps me to fly this old brick somewhere and swap cans.”

“Barbells are the backbone,” Zoya said.

Trask snorted. “Barbells are the best way we have to get stuff in and out of High Liner stations.”

“Really?” Natalya asked.

The captain ran a palm across his lips again. “Yeah. Well, stick around and you’ll see for yourself.” He nodded at the door. “You didn’t bring any luggage?”

“Mr. Kondur just said to report and you’d fill us in,” Natalya said.

“Albee’s portside now. He’ll be back for lunch mess. We’re planning on pulling out of here tomorrow at 0800. Go get your trunks and get settled by dinner time.” He offered each of them a glare. “Can do?”

“Consider it done, Skipper,” Natalya said.

“You know your way around a Barbell?” he asked.

“We both spent time on them. Not a lot but I can find my way down the spine.”

Trask nodded. “Summer cruise?”

“Does it show?” Natalya asked.

Trask shook his head. “Not on you.” He nodded at Zoya. “Fleet runs deep.”

It only took a few ticks for them to exit the ship. Helms even smiled at them as they left.

“What is it with people and fleet?” Zoya asked.

Natalya took a moment to look at her friend. “You’re basically wearing undress khakis.”

Zoya looked down at herself as they walked along the docks. “It makes sense.”

“To you, sure.” Natalya lifted her chin. “Look around. You see anybody else in khakis?”

The few people in view wore a variety of outfits. Some wore beige station overalls while most sported more flamboyant looks that made Natalya’s outfit of black slacks, polished ship boots, and reds and browns on top seem positively drab.

“Who dresses like that?” Zoya asked, leaning in close to Natalya.

Natalya smiled back. “Turn that around.” She waved a hand at Zoya’s outfit. “Who dresses like
that
?”

Zoya looked down and then around at the people on the docks. “Ah.”

“Come on. Let’s find you something other than academy wear.”

“And where do we do that?”

“Main Street, of course.”

“Wait.” Zoya stopped in her tracks and put a hand on Natalya’s arm. “I’ve seen some of those clothes. I wouldn’t be caught dead in those outfits.”

Natalya grinned. “That’s sorta the idea.”

Zoya blinked. “What?”

“To not be caught dead.” Natalya looked down at Zoya’s clothes again. “This might come as a shock, but being called fleet isn’t exactly a compliment. It’s a good way to get picked out of a crowd for all the wrong reasons.”

Zoya looked around again and swallowed hard. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“You just need to find something other than the uniform shirt. Maybe a nice jacket and a few tops that aren’t brown.”

“You’re wearing brown,” Zoya said.

Natalya looked down at her layered tops of red, brown, and a flash of white under an old-style pilot’s jacket. “Yes,” she said, grinning up at her friend. “But I’m wearing it with style.”

They both laughed and Natalya grabbed Zoya by the upper arm. “Come on, bunkie. We need to find your inner Toe-Hold. You didn’t wear khakis when you piloted those barges at twelve, did you?”

Color flooded up Zoya’s neck and across her cheeks.

Natalya felt her eyes bug out as she realized the truth. “Oh, no. You didn’t.”

“It was what all the cool kids wore.”

Natalya laughed again and picked up her pace. “Come on. We’ll get you fixed up.”

Zoya dragged back for a few steps and then caught up. “All right, but I’m not tossing these.”

“You shouldn’t,” Natalya said. “We’ll need them when we get to Siren.”

“You don’t think we’re going to be going ashore, do you?”

Natalya shrugged. “No idea, but we’ll need to look the part and be believable when we get there or the whole game is up.”

“You have such a way of making me feel assured.”

“Look at the bright side. You haven’t been mugged, stabbed, raped, or murdered since making that jump from Port Newmar.”

“Yet,” Zoya said with a frown on her face. “Yet.”

Natalya laughed again. “Fair enough. Yet. Now let’s get a move on before you make any more of a spectacle of yourself here on the docks.”

Chapter 16
Dark Knight Station: 2363, June 7

They returned to the ship at 1400 with Zoya looking a little less fleet in a mauve sweater and a black bolero over her khaki slacks. “I wonder where they’ll put me,” Natalya said as they stopped at the lock.

“Why?”

“Barbells don’t usually rate an engineering third. We usually go onto the larger mixed freight or tankers for seasoning.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You’ll have a stateroom in officer country, but it’s even odds whether I’ll pull engineering berthing or not.”

The lock levered up and a whip-thin man with a severe buzz cut and a narrow fringe of dark hair along his upper lip scowled down at them. He wore a maroon shipsuit with gold piping and first-mate pips on his collar tabs. The effect left Natalya blinking in astonishment.

“About time. Which one’s Usoko?”

Zoya nodded. “That would be me.”

“Stow that gear and get your butt up to the bridge. We need the system backup done. Ay-sap.” He turned and stomped into the ship.

Natalya looked at Zoya. “Pleasant enough chap.”

Zoya caught her lower lip in her teeth. “Suppose it’ll occur to him that we both need system credentials before we can do anything?”

Natalya shrugged and started up the ramp just as a snarly male voice echoed out of the lock.

“Sometime today, ladies.”

Zoya chuckled and Natalya bit back her own laugh.

“You know,” Natalya said. “Twelve weeks of this could get real old.”

Zoya nodded. “I know, but you have to admit. It’s a picture.”

“Oh, yeah.”

They slid into the lock and dropped their trunks on the deck. Helms stood behind the watchstander’s desk and looked at them.

“Mass allotments?” Zoya prompted.

“Huh?” he said.

The maroon avenger stuck his head out of the passageway. “Ladies. This isn’t some High Liner fleet operation. Get your crap settled. We got work to do here.” He disappeared back down the passageway.

Natalya looked at Helms. “That the first mate? Alden, is it?”

“Albee. John Albee.”

Natalya grinned. “He always in this good a mood?”

Helms grinned back. “Some days he’s a bit cranky. Today’s a good day. He always gets excited when we get underway.”

“Any idea where he wants me to live?”

“Supercargo stateroom in officer country, most likely.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the passageway. “Straight in, first ladder up.”

Natalya nodded. “Not my first Barbell, but thanks.”

Zoya led the way down the passageway with Natalya on her heels. Behind her she heard Helms mutter, “This should be interestin’.”

They maneuvered up the ladders to officer country and found the staterooms designated for third mate and supercargo at the end of the passage.

“Cozy,” Zoya said. “We share the head.”

“Bigger bunks than the
Peregrine
.” Natalya locked her trunk down in the alcove and peeked into the head. “Could use a good scrub, but I’ve stayed in worse.”

Zoya looked in from the other side. “Yeah, well. We’ll probably have time once we get underway.” She sighed. “Probably better get up to the bridge. Wish me luck.”