Dreadnought (Starship Blackbeard Book 3) by Michael Wallace Page A

Tolvern asked nervously.
    Isabel had been playing with the strap of the holster at her side as she spoke, and it wasn’t hard to imagine her whipping out her gun when she heard that the people responsible for her father’s death were sitting across the table.
    “Nope, none. You got someone hard to work with, I’m good with that, so long as you cross my palm with silver.”
    “She may not have enemies,” Capp said suddenly. “But I do.” She rose to her feet. “Dunkley, you son of a—kings balls! I was wondering if that was you.”
    A man had come strolling across the patio floor, cinching up his belt. He looked pale, like he’d eaten something strange, and had one hand on his belly. No wonder he’d been in the bathroom for so long.
    He studied Capp, his eyes widening in recognition. “Capp, old buddy. What are you doing out here? Thought they sent your sorry butt to the mines.”
    “Shut your gob!”
    “I hope they at least gave you a good flogging.”
    Capp’s nostrils flared. Before Tolvern and Drake could grab her, she lowered her head and barreled forward. Her head drove into Dunkley’s belly. The man fell with an “oof” with Capp on top of him. She came up swinging. He was bigger than she was, but couldn’t seem to get out from under her, and it would have gone very badly for him if Tolvern and Drake hadn’t reached the fight. They each took one of Capp’s arms and dragged her back. She struggled and cursed.
    “Ensign!” Drake snapped. “In your seat!”
    Capp settled down. She pulled free and sat down sullenly. Paredes looked alarmed, but Isabel Vargus was chuckling and shaking her head with amusement.
    “Ah, it’s a funny universe that brings together two old mates.”
    Capp shot Isabel a look. “Don’t seem funny to me.”
    Dunkley rose to his feet and felt at his jaw. “What the hell is your problem, Capp?”
    “You know my problem.”
    “That’s your style, isn’t it? Don’t like what a bloke says, and you punch him. What did the captain call you that time? Remind me, why don’t you?”
    Capp sprang to her feet again, but this time Tolvern and Drake were ready and pulled her back down.
    “Keep your temper,” Tolvern warned her, “or you’ll be off the bridge in two seconds and scraping barnacles. You got that?”
    “Yeah, I got it, Tolvern.” Capp glared at Dunkley as he came and slowly sat on the farthest side of the table, never taking his eyes off her. “You know what this tosser did? I’ll tell you. He got me arrested.”
    “That was your own damn temper,” Dunkley said. He glanced around the table before settling his gaze on Tolvern. “Capp stormed onto the bridge and punched our captain in the nose.”
    “Gave me thirty bloody months,” Capp grumbled. She grabbed another drink from a passing tray. Her anger seemed to be deflating.
    “I thought you caught him cheating at cards,” Tolvern said. “That’s what you told me.”
    Capp hooked her thumb at Dunkley. “That’s what he said. Found me when I was drinking and got me all wound up, saying how the captain was cheating. You did that on purpose, Dunkley, and don’t go and deny it.”
    “How was I supposed to know you’d act like a blooming idiot?”
    “Enough,” Drake said. Capp fell silent.
    He studied Dunkley. “If you were Capp’s shipmate, what are you doing out here?”
    “My enlistment ran out a couple months ago, so I came looking for work. You know I wasn’t trying to get you thrown in the brig, Capp. And I sure didn’t mean for you to get thirty months in the mines.”
    “Yeah, well. I ain’t there, am I?”
    Isabel Vargus leaned back with her hands behind her head. She had a wide, slightly inebriated smile on her face. “Dunkley only showed up six weeks ago, from what I heard. Broke and looking for work. Now he’s got his own schooner. Kinda suspicious, if you ask me.”
    “It was legit,” Dunkley said.
    Pete Paredes snorted and downed his liquor. “Sure, it was.”
    “None of