it ten credits. Mostly out of desperation— and with the fervent hope that this newest stick-monkey would last more than a few weeks. "Sixty each standard week. Plus benefits: room, board, medical— "
"Two hundred credits."
"I'm not paying you two hundred a week!"
Her eyes snapped in challenge from within the shadow of the cap half hiding that… hairdo. "Do you need a pilot or not?"
"Do you need a ship or not?"
She didn't flinch. "I'll agree to one-fifty."
"One hundred." He supposed he was nuts to risk losing what appeared to be a qualified pilot over the question of a few credits, but if he didn't act from a position of strength from the beginning, as captain he'd never squeeze a worthwhile day's work out of this drunk. "Take it or leave it."
She glanced at the empty place where her vessel had been parked before being whisked away by Dar security. A look of profound pain flickered across her expressive face, chased by obvious indecision in the way she clenched her jaw. Her blatant inner battle heightened his curiosity about her, but he forced himself to wait in silence for her answer.
"I shall take it," she said in a quiet voice.
He snatched her by the hand before she changed her mind— again. But the sudden move caused her to trip over her boots. He caught her before she fell, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I'm sobering you up with hot took even if it takes me all day— which I hope it doesn't, because you, my friend, are flying me to Grüma, come hell or high water."
Chapter Four
Ahead, the long fuselage of his ship gleamed pale silver. "There she is," Ian said. "The Sun Devil."
"She's… beautiful," Tee murmured. Genuine longing softened her features. He'd seen that expression before on his mother's face when she reminisced about her days as an Air Force fighter pilot.
Quin and Muffin met them at the bottom of the gangway. Quin's eyes twinkled. "It's not like you to bring home company" he said, while Muffin squinted at the woman, studying her.
"She's not company. This is Tee, our new pilot. Tee, meet Muffin, chief security officer. And Quin, ship's mechanic."
"Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand. Thrown off balance, she grabbed onto Ian. "Whoa."
Quin's smile froze with incredulity. "She's drunk!"
"Right. Let's get her sobered up. I want to launch as soon as possible." Hastily he swept Tee past the two men and up the gangway. After a moment's silence, Ian heard two pairs of boots thumping on the alloy flooring behind him.
"We've been through three pilots already," Quin called after him. "Now here you are with another stray."
Ian didn't have to turn around to guess the expression contorting the man's face.
Muffin was typically good-humored. "Reminds me a bit of my sister and the way she collects lost ketta-cats."
"I can deal with ketta-cats. It's good-for-nothing pilots I have no stomach for," Quin grumbled.
Through the forward cargo hold they went, down the central corridor and past the crew quarters, while Quin ranted about starpilots and their general unreliability and mental instability.
"This way." Ian planted his hands on Tee's hips and boosted her up the gangway to the galley. Haltingly, she climbed to the upper deck, stumbling over the top rung. She giggled, then slapped her hand over her mouth as if the sound had startled and embarrassed her.
Ian guided her into the galley, settling her onto a seat next to the table. Crushed by her cap, short locks of hair clung to her temples and flushed cheeks. He shook off the oddest urge to smooth the strands off her skin.
Muffin lumbered into the galley. Ian told him, "One of the locals, a bartender, said I should watch my back."
"Did he elaborate?"
"Unfortunately no. He wasn't exactly stable in the mental department, either."
Muffin frowned. "Let's launch as soon as possible."
"Agreed."
Quin marched past. "I'll get the tock started." Glowering, he slammed a kettle on the ion-burner.
The last two members of Ian's crew,
"Two hundred credits."
"I'm not paying you two hundred a week!"
Her eyes snapped in challenge from within the shadow of the cap half hiding that… hairdo. "Do you need a pilot or not?"
"Do you need a ship or not?"
She didn't flinch. "I'll agree to one-fifty."
"One hundred." He supposed he was nuts to risk losing what appeared to be a qualified pilot over the question of a few credits, but if he didn't act from a position of strength from the beginning, as captain he'd never squeeze a worthwhile day's work out of this drunk. "Take it or leave it."
She glanced at the empty place where her vessel had been parked before being whisked away by Dar security. A look of profound pain flickered across her expressive face, chased by obvious indecision in the way she clenched her jaw. Her blatant inner battle heightened his curiosity about her, but he forced himself to wait in silence for her answer.
"I shall take it," she said in a quiet voice.
He snatched her by the hand before she changed her mind— again. But the sudden move caused her to trip over her boots. He caught her before she fell, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I'm sobering you up with hot took even if it takes me all day— which I hope it doesn't, because you, my friend, are flying me to Grüma, come hell or high water."
Chapter Four
Ahead, the long fuselage of his ship gleamed pale silver. "There she is," Ian said. "The Sun Devil."
"She's… beautiful," Tee murmured. Genuine longing softened her features. He'd seen that expression before on his mother's face when she reminisced about her days as an Air Force fighter pilot.
Quin and Muffin met them at the bottom of the gangway. Quin's eyes twinkled. "It's not like you to bring home company" he said, while Muffin squinted at the woman, studying her.
"She's not company. This is Tee, our new pilot. Tee, meet Muffin, chief security officer. And Quin, ship's mechanic."
"Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand. Thrown off balance, she grabbed onto Ian. "Whoa."
Quin's smile froze with incredulity. "She's drunk!"
"Right. Let's get her sobered up. I want to launch as soon as possible." Hastily he swept Tee past the two men and up the gangway. After a moment's silence, Ian heard two pairs of boots thumping on the alloy flooring behind him.
"We've been through three pilots already," Quin called after him. "Now here you are with another stray."
Ian didn't have to turn around to guess the expression contorting the man's face.
Muffin was typically good-humored. "Reminds me a bit of my sister and the way she collects lost ketta-cats."
"I can deal with ketta-cats. It's good-for-nothing pilots I have no stomach for," Quin grumbled.
Through the forward cargo hold they went, down the central corridor and past the crew quarters, while Quin ranted about starpilots and their general unreliability and mental instability.
"This way." Ian planted his hands on Tee's hips and boosted her up the gangway to the galley. Haltingly, she climbed to the upper deck, stumbling over the top rung. She giggled, then slapped her hand over her mouth as if the sound had startled and embarrassed her.
Ian guided her into the galley, settling her onto a seat next to the table. Crushed by her cap, short locks of hair clung to her temples and flushed cheeks. He shook off the oddest urge to smooth the strands off her skin.
Muffin lumbered into the galley. Ian told him, "One of the locals, a bartender, said I should watch my back."
"Did he elaborate?"
"Unfortunately no. He wasn't exactly stable in the mental department, either."
Muffin frowned. "Let's launch as soon as possible."
"Agreed."
Quin marched past. "I'll get the tock started." Glowering, he slammed a kettle on the ion-burner.
The last two members of Ian's crew,
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