“Uh-oh.”
“I once went to a planet,” says Brandon, “where sex was…”
“Hostiles, two o’clock.”
Lena looks blank. I shift and see Black Jack’s men moving in on us.
“You got a problem?” I call out.
“We have unfinished business.”
“A trade’s a trade,” I say, reasonable. “ Caveat emptor.”
Black Jack throws a knife at my throat. I catch it and throw it back. He catches it by the blade.
“We can settle this in the tournament hall,” Alliea suggests reasonably. Two of Black Jack’s crew swing at her. She ducks and comes up punching.
Kalen is flying through the air. Black Jack has never seen a cat-human before and can’t quite believe her flared nostrils and hissing technique. And she’s fast too.
I move in punching. I take some killer blows to the head and fall to the ground. Panicking, I use a ring laser to cut a hole in the floorboard and I fall through and crash on to a card table below. Damn! I’ve broken my back. I clamber to my feet, fighting past the pain, using meditation skills to engage my leg muscles despite the vertebral snap.
I look up. Lena is watching, amused, detached, as the brawl continues around her. Jamie bites and kicks and shocks Black Jack’s men with the power in his tiny frame. Brandon and Alliea work together smoothly as a team. But Kalen is the dangerous one, with her long-limbed kicks and effortless fingerstrikes.
Black Jack steps to one side. Takes Lena’s head in his hands. And kisses her. It’s an overt proposition: join my crew.
She nods and smiles and takes his hand. This isn’t entirely going to plan.
A random punch hits Lena, and suddenly exasperated she strikes out and shatters an arm. Black Jack beams, and leads Lena away. The man with two penises is doing things that no lady should ever witness, but Lena stares at it unflinchingly.
And I feel a garrotte around my throat. My enemies have followed me. I am barely able to move. The garrotte bites in. Kalen sees and dives down to help, but suddenly she has a knife in her throat.
Lena watches it all, amused.
Harry is there, and bites the head off the man who is garrotting me.
Black Jack whispers in Lena’s ear. She gives him a second look. He is swarthy, bearded, repulsive. This is a man who used to kill babies to liven up those dull winter evenings.
Lena suddenly backs away. Harry and Kalen are dragging me out of the saloon. We are defeated, retreating. Lena follows us. Black Jack scowls and grabs her and his men secure her with brutal armlocks.
I am looking away as Lena launches her counterattack. I hear screams and cries behind me.
Eventually I am aware of Lena at my side.
“That must hurt like the very devil,” she murmurs to me.
“I’ve had worse,” I tell her.
We leave. The moon is high in the sky, blazing out purple gases. The bitter wind whips us. We head back for our ship.
Flanagan
“That went badly,” says Brandon.
“Yup,” I reply.
“Hsss,” groans Kalen, her larynx transplant still raw and painful.
Flanagan
I am consumed by a black melancholy.
This is what happens when you try to play God. I had a game plan mapped out that involved Black Jack, Lena, and an all-out fight. Lena would see us struggling and would come to our rescue, cementing the bond between us. Black Jack was, of course, paid in advance to pull his punches so that no one was in any severe danger.
But ten years ago I shafted Black Jack on a booty trade. He has nursed his grudge since then, and took this opportunity to beat me and kill me. As a result, I have a smashed spine and half-severed head. Lena did in fact – eventually! – rally to our cause. But it wasn’t part of the plan that I should have a broken back. Pain surges up and down my old and battered body. I long to die, to release myself from self-inflicted torment.
Alliea keeps reminding me: the plan worked.
Some fucking plan.
Harry
I can still taste blood in my mouth. No one ever asks me about it, no one ever questions it. But is it right I should so much savour the taste of human flesh? Am I an animal after all? A less-than-human?
They rely on me to be their strong-arm half-man/half-beast. They depend on my ferocity and rage. But what do they really think of me? Am I a true friend? Do they secretly despise me?
I feel so threatened. So paranoid. It does not occur to them that I might need comfort and support.
Surely it is possible to love the taste of blood and the screaming of dying humans, and yet still be the sensitive type?
Alliea
The Captain has been giving me strange looks. I fear he thinks I’m grieving too much for Rob. Perhaps he considers me obsessive. Unreliable. Flaky.
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
Am I unworthy of his trust?
Brandon
Flanagan is still recovering in the Med Tank. His spine has had to be replaced, and a new spinal cord has been fitted into his brain. It is a major procedure with a moderate probability of failure.
If he dies, then as chief astrophysicist I will take command of the crew. It is a prospect I relish. Flanagan is too impetuous, he lacks attention to detail. I know I will do a better job. Captain Brandon Bisby! It has a ring to it.
Of course, I would never cause him to die, but by all that’s holy and all that’s not, I’d be glad if he did. Then I could assume command.
Or perhaps I should jump the gun? Help his demise along, just a little bit? Is my authority secure enough?
I sweat over that one. I decide to opt for caution. Let’s see if Flanagan recovers. If he doesn’t, I can take his place without any effort, or intrigue, or danger to myself…
Lena
We plan our attack. I am ripe for this. I am going to battle.
I, Lena, am the Captain of my own pirate crew. I’ve finally agreed to Flanagan’s pleas, and it makes me feel
