Page 6 of Shielded in the Shadows

I was far too experienced of an operative to let my reaction show, but I focused on settling the devices back in place so I didn’t make eye contact with either male. The prospect of turning someone over knowing they’d be subject to torture—especially a female—made my gut churn.

“I like bounties,” Jonor said, still beaming as if Sjer had suggested spending a week at an Ngaran pleasure resort rather than facilitating murder. “So what’s the offer for going to the great trouble of turning over this smuggler alive instead of just delivering a head? It must be something big.” He made the same clicking noise with his tongue I’d heard him make when he saw attractive females.

Sjer eyed Jonor, his expression unreadable. Was he calculating whether Jonor could be trusted to keep the information to himself?

I almost snorted. Of course Jonor wouldn’t keep the information to himself. Within the hour, everyone on board would know about the so-called side job and that its value at least equaled if not exceeded that of the missing cargo ship.

“The reward for a living bounty is a favor,” Sjer said finally. “One I’d like to have.”

Jonor fell uncharacteristically silent. I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking it too: favors came from criminal organizations. They had the potential to turn a private, moderately successful corsair operation into a very wealthy one with powerful connections—as long as the captain of that vessel didn’t mind bedding down with one or more of the most dangerous people in the galaxy. Which clearly Sjer was ready and willing to do.

“Favors are good,” Jonor said, his spine straightening. “Favors can change a male’s fortunes.”

“Which is why a lot of others are going to want this favor too,” Sjer said, grinning to show all his long, sharp teeth. “So it’s to our advantage to get to the station first, pick up the package, and deliver her to the hand-off as fast as possible. We are traveling at top speed to Ghira Station with an ETA of 1750 hours, ship’s time.”

His gaze locked on me. “You’ll be going with the pick-up team, along with Kitna, L’mel, and Boorginamai.” When Jonor snarled, he added, “Jonor and Qo will guard the ship at the dock and make sure you get back on board without any trouble. Take your field medical kit and keep that smuggler alive.” His eyes swirled black. “If she dies, don’t bother returning to the ship. In fact, if she dies, you’d best be sure none of us lay eyes on you again. I want this bounty.”

In a matter of minutes, I’d gone from our very fine medic to an explicit death threat. Such was life as a corsair.

“Understood, Captain,” I said, spine straight and wings folded tight. “I’ll be armed and ready to disembark at 1750.”

“Good.” He turned his attention back to Jonor. “When you’re done here, go directly to Chief Engineer Urta’nor and inform him I want confirmation that our engines will run at full capacity for the entire journey from Ghira Station to Forval IX. I don’t want any other bounty hunters trying to take our prize along the way.”

“Yes, Captain.” Jonor was all business now. I probably didn’t need to worry about him hunting down Kitna for a rematch—at least for the moment.

Sjer studied me, his expression cold, as if he suspected I didn’t approve of the side job.

The Fancy had collected bounties before, but both the captain and the crew had always preferred going after smugglers’ cargo and salvaging wrecks like the one awaiting us on Puret IV. Sjer had solid contacts for leads on lucrative targets, we had no trouble fencing the goods we obtained, and no one could complain they weren’t earning good credits. Bounty hunting was an entirely different kettle of purpafish.

On the one wing, my approval didn’t mean anything one way or another to Sjer. All decisions aboard the Fancy belonged to him, and all his decisions were final.

On the other wing, disagreeable crew members could be a liability, and liabilities went out airlocks.

“This is a good opportunity, sir,” I said, and gave Sjer my best, most bloodthirsty smile—the one that showcased my fangs. Like my wings, horns, tail, and claws, they were an unmistakable sign of my Pallasian shadowbat DNA. And unlike Jonor’s useless fangs, mine could deliver deadly venom. “As always, I’m looking forward to using my skills to continue reaping the rewards of serving aboard your ship.”

It was the right answer, apparently.

“Good.” With a chuckle, Sjer gave me another punch to the upper arm and strode off down the corridor toward the ship’s bridge.

“By Biramman’s hairy balls,” Jonor grumbled once the captain was out of earshot. “How much longer is this going to take?”

“You’d be done already if you’d gotten in the medpod.” I glanced at the osteorepair devices’ screens. “Ten minutes. You can study the layout of Ghira Station in the meantime. I’m sure the captain has made it available on the ship’s computer.” I swung one of the small terminals closer to the exam table. “Here.”

Jonor’s upper left hand landed on my shoulder. “If you fuck up and the bounty dies, I’ll be the one to skin you alive,” he said, grinning like the sick bastard he was. “I just wanted you to know.”

I knocked his hand off my shoulder. “I don’t think it’ll be up to you, will it? Last time I checked, Sjer is the captain. Unless you’d like to challenge him for the right to sit in the big seat?”

In a blink he was standing, his chest pressed to mine. I was a head taller and just as bulky, and despite his extra arms and the unhinged glint in all three of his eyes, I knew I could take him in a fight. He thought I was a field medic with some weapons and combat training. He didn’t know what I was capable of.

None of them did.

“Careful,” I said softly.

I didn’t need to remind him that Sjer wanted to claim this favor more than he wanted to find that wrecked cargo vessel and the fortune in its hold, and that my skills would likely be needed to ensure the survival of the smuggler with a bounty on her head. Even awash in fury, Jonor knew the score.

But the truth hanging in the air was that if he tried to kill me now, he’d die at my hands right here in the medbay. A predator like Jonor knew instinctively when he’d encountered a bigger, better, deadlier one.

Pure, unvarnished hatred flared in his eyes and twisted his features. “When this job is done, we’ll settle this,” he snarled.