Ain't Nuthin But A Thang
It was a beautiful Florida morning. The sky was a clear, flawless blue that only came about when the weather turned cold. However, the excitement around Cape Canaveral produced a warmth that permeated the spectators lining the highways and beaches. The Shuttle program was no longer a novelty. Each new launch had drifted into the arena of routine, yet the eyes of America were glued to this particular mission with special interest.
John stood with his father in the VIP viewing area, hands shoved deep in his pockets to ward off a chill uncommon even for January. He should be in class. His course load was a heavy one and the semester had just started. However, the opportunity to watch a live launch was one he would not miss for anything. Not even the ire of Professor Dubinsky.
As the countdown commenced, he felt each tick of the clock in his throat, keeping time with his pulse. Liquid fire rushed through his veins when the massive rockets ignited, sucking the breath out of his lungs. Everyone around him knew exactly how he felt and shared in the experience. Former and future astronauts, families, press, government officials. A collective gasp bound them all together.
That'll be me someday.
A boom reverberated over the launch pad, sending out a shockwave that made those standing even a mile away take a step back. The space shuttle lifted from the ground in a flurry of rolling smoke and brilliant flame. 20. 40. 60 seconds passed. John's eyes followed the craft as it labored to break free of Earth's gravity, gliding upwards with heavy grace. For that minute, he forgot he wasn't alone.
70. 72 seconds. The booster rockets broke away with a flash of light and a cloud of spent fuel. His gaze focused on the sky above him, but he could not see the shuttle. It seemed to have disappeared.
"Is that normal?" he heard someone say nearby.
Twin columns of smoke branched away from a perfect cloud. The two white streams became three. The three became more. But instead of rising, they were falling. A horrible blossom of descending debris. "Dad? What just happened?"
Jack Crichton was horrified. Grief stricken. No one seemed sure what had happened. But one thing was painfully clear. "It's gone, son. Challenger is gone."
The memory of his father's face at that moment was burned into his brain. Stronger than the image of the shuttle explosion. He would never think of the disaster without remembering the pain in Jack's eyes. These were people he knew, worked with, and lived beside. Gone in an instant.
That'll be me some day.
John did not have to see that expression on Jack's face when his son disappeared from the screens at Mission Control. It haunted him just the same. It drove him relentlessly toward unlocking the secrets of wormholes. Demanded he find his way home.
This quest, John's obsession, was what brought him and his shipmates close to Kinfea Prime's system. Another detour on their way to the rendezvous with Talyn. A quick little side trip to further his goal of erasing the anguish from one man's face.
Even now, with his thoughts centered around their present circumstances, John couldn't help but think about wormholes. He just knew there was one nearby, twisting and winding its way through space. And he was going to miss it because of Jool and a damn card game.
And because he was still naive enough to try and reason his way out of a bad situation. Harvey was right. The universe didn't play by his rules and the only people getting hurt were the ones John should be protecting.
Before she died, Zhaan had called him innocent. Stupid is what she should have said.
Stupid because he did not want to learn to shoot first. He was comfortable playing the defense. Reactionary. Let the universe take the first swing so his conscience would be appeased. Only problem was, the universe was not swinging just at him and his shipmates suffered as he imposed his special brand of humanity upon them.
Humanity in one hand, compassion in the other. The time was coming he would have to empty one of those hands to hold a gun.
D'Argo responded at the light rasp at the door, letting Tionar back in. The Kinfea had returned as promised with the items he had gone for. "Can your ally walk?"
"She's resting," John said. "What's going on?"
"It is no longer safe for you here. We must go." Tionar moved closer to Chiana, looking down at the sleeping Nebari. His lips stretched taunt, clamped together in a tense frown.
John thought the Kinfea almost looked regretful. He stood, sliding his back against the wall as he rose. The stone crunched under his jacket, sprinkling dust to the ground. "Where to?"
"To see the Council."
D'Argo's eyes narrowed on Tionar. "The Council."
"Yes. They have offered to help you." Tionar's demeanor changed as he lifted his head to gaze back at the two males in the room. It was subtle. His voice took on a waver, lacking the conviction of his words. He controlled his movements, as if afraid to allow his body language the opportunity to betray his thoughts.
It sent a sick, paranoid feeling to the pit of John's stomach.
"Help us. And what do they want in return?" John forced himself not to reach for his gun. He should just keep his hand at his side and not give Tionar any reason to suspect. Not now while he had the man's attention. Don't give him any reason to notice the Luxan moving to his back.
Tionar cocked his head to one side. "They do not request anything."
It was barely movement, the tiniest signal John could give. But D'Argo had been watching for it. He leaned his head back slightly and his long, paralyzing tongue snapped forward.
Tionar staggered once before falling.
John stood over him. "No one does anything around here for free."
***
Jool cradled the comm in her hand, fingers curled around the melted edges. Now that she had won the prize, the Interion was afraid to use it. Her life had been so simple once. The hardest challenge had come from scholarly pursuits, not decisions that resulted in life or death. Fear was a new emotion. Loneliness went beyond her scope of reality.
"Crichton? D'Argo?" Her voice sounded weak, tiny and uncertain. She took a breath and tried again, holding the communication device closer to her mouth. "Chiana?"
Silence answered her. Jool would give it one more try before summoning Pilot. The giant creature that directed Moya would be able to do little more then triangulate her companion's positions from their comm signals. But if they were not answering, what would be the point?
"John. Answer please." She looked over her shoulder toward Cabmauri sitting in a chair by the playing table. His head was downcast, fingers plucking at the cards nearby. Jool closed her eyes in defeat.
"Hey. Jool, baby. That you?" Static threatened to overpower the voice, but it came through perfectly as far as Jool was concerned.
"Crichton!" She clutched the comm tighter. "Where are you?"
"A not so safe-house somewhere on this rock of a moon station."
Jool tossed a glare toward her captor as she spoke into the palm of her hand. "You need to get out of there as soon as possible."
"No can do. The pod's been-."
"Stolen. Yes, I know," Jool interrupted. She did not have the patience to listen to a nonsensical discourse by the Human. Of all the creatures on Moya, John was one of the more intelligent. She just wished he made more sense when he spoke. "John, listen to me. Cabmauri never expected you to come back. He sent you so he could learn who has been stealing his cargo over the last cycle."
"So we're bait?"
"Yes. He put a tracking device in the crates you were sent to deliver. Legal Authority has the transport pod and the Crystals. Cabmauri believes that one of their officers has been behind the thefts all along."
"Dartoi?"
Jool looked sharply at her comm. "Yes. How did you know that?"
"Lucky guess. Doesn't help us though. We're still trapped here unless the Council decides to open the spaceport back up."
"Cabmauri has an idea how you can get off Gital Deep and back to the planet."
"Right. And we're supposed to trust him after he left us out to dry?"
"Do you have any other options?"
The only sound that came over the comm was static, creating a pause that lasted long enough to make Jool worry she had lost the connection. "John?"
"Yeah, I'm still here. No, no other options. And we're just about to run out of friends. But since Calamari is being so generous, tell him I have one other favor to ask him. Tell him he needs to have a chat with Dartoi."
***
Tionar was sprawled on the floor with his shoulders propped up against the wall. D'Argo stood on one side of him, hefting his Qualta Blade in his hands. Chiana, ignoring the protests of her friends, stood across D'Argo on the Kinfea's other side. A pistol dangled in one hand, the other wrapped around her waist.
John slowly lowered his weapon, pointing the muzzle at the ground instead of Tionar's face. "I'll let a lot of things slide. Ask my friends. They'll tell you. But one thing I can't stand, is being lied to. So you sure you want to stick to your story?"
"I have not been deceitful."
"Everyone," John said, barely controlling the level of emotion in his voice. He wanted to shout. Scream. Take his fist and work out his frustration on the Kinfea. "Everyone has been deceitful since the beginning. You're hiding something."
"You owe me your lives," Tionar retorted.
"That was pay back for Chiana saving your sorry ass."
"I am not obligated to worthless mercenaries."
The hilt of D'Argo's Qualta Blade connected sharply with Tionar's head. The Kinfea grunted, falling to his side with the force of the impact. Only Chiana saw John wince.
"What does the Council suddenly want to help us?"
Tionar straightened, holding a hand to his temple. Blood, like milk sap, ran between his fingers. "As I've said. They want nothing."
John closed his eyes, as much to strengthen his resolve over the heavy- handed tactics as it was to block out the sight of Tionar's face. He opened them again only to look at D'Argo. The Luxan pulled back his arm for another swing.
"Wait! Wait." The Kinfea held up his hand, cringing away from D'Argo and the sword. His words came slow. "The Council wishes to charge you for the attack on House Alendar."
"Frell," Chiana muttered. "Well, that's just perfect."
"And you were just gonna hand us over."
D'Argo snarled at the man near his feet. "Will they be coming here if you do not bring us soon?"
Tionar looked up at the Luxan. "No. They do not know of this place." He turned his head toward John. "It was not by my choice that this was to be. I know you are innocent, but the Council demanded a sacrifice to prevent further war among the Houses. They cannot afford to lose their control of Gital Deep. Such an escalation in violence would negate their Charter."
"Charter." John snapped his pistol back into its holster. "What Charter?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to organize his thoughts. Weariness was setting in and all that kept him going was surge after surge of adrenaline.
"The Charter of Rinald. It is what allows us to act independently of Kinfea Prime."
John's hand dropped. "Say that again? The part about being independent?"
Uncertainty marked Tionar's face. "The Council has full domain of Gital Deep as long as they are able to maintain order. If they should ever lose that control, we are once again subject to governance by the Ministry."
"This Ministry. Are they in charge of Legal Enforcement?"
"Yes," Tionar answered. "Minister Anto Rabisi. Legal Enforcement answers directly to him."
The tip of D'Argo's sword touched the ground as he turned his gaze toward John. "The Houses go to war-."
"And the Ministry gets to declare martial law." John reached out a hand toward Tionar, offering to help him up off the floor. "Wanna hear my theory?" he asked.
The Kinfea looked at the hand skeptically, but took it and hauled himself to his feet. "Yes."
"Y'all were had."
***
"Renegotiate." Dartoi Zeph could almost laugh. The humor played around his mouth, welled up his throat and threatened to spill out into Cabmauri's office. "You. Want to renegotiate?"
"Yes. The circumstances have changed and so must the terms of our agreement."
Dartoi raised his chin thoughtfully, turning slowly as he made his way toward a chair. As he sat, he pulled his pistol from its holster and rested it on his leg. He was pleased that Cabmauri's gaze rested briefly on the weapon. Dartoi wanted no misunderstandings here. "Please. Explain the change in circumstance."
"My recent shipment of Mabry Crystals. I hired mercenaries to transport them since my last crew was lost."
The other crew, Dartoi remembered them. They had returned to their ship before he had been able to bypass their security locks. It took them half an arn to die in the barren landscape beyond the atmosphere bubble of Gital Deep. Took him longer then that to finally decipher their ship codes.
"Mercenaries are very untrustworthy." And dead. He saw them leave Vieo's compound a microt before he pressed the detonation trigger. There was no way they could have survived the explosion. Not that Dartoi had stayed on the street corner long enough to be sure.
Cabmauri nodded his agreement. "But resourceful."
"Oh?" Dartoi feigned curiosity but he was already bored with the conversation. His fingers splayed over the side of his pistol. "This banter may charm the fools at your Gaming tables, but I am growing impatient."
Cabmauri nodded quickly. "They say they have gained useful information concerning the recent thefts of my shipments. They will sell this knowledge to me, but at a very high price. One I can not afford unless we agree upon a lower tax."
"You spoke with them recently?"
"Yes."
Dartoi had spent six cycles implementing this plan. Almost a quarter of his life dedicated to Anto Rabisi's goal of reclaiming Gital Deep. He was not about to let a band of upstarts ruin it all. The Council must believe without doubt that Bonyon Daul betrayed his partner. It was the only way to get the Houses to war with each other. If the mercenaries knew the truth and were able to prove it, all the work would be for nothing. "That does change things. But only temporarily. You are expecting them here soon?"
Cabmauri nodded. "Yes."
He started toward the door, making plans for how he wished to deal with these troublemakers. "Tell me. Is the female you've been hiding in your rooms a member of their crew?"
He was impressed by Cabmauri's ability to hide his surprise. But then, it should have come as no shock to discover Legal Authority had been watching him. They would know of anything out of the usual. Including the presence of a bright colored female. "She was, but no more. I won her in Bacria."
"You are a cunning smuggler. A brilliant gambler. But a horrible liar."
"Believe me or not," Cabmauri protested. "But you have no use for her."
"For her, I have a use." He lifted his pistol, lining the muzzle perfectly with Cabmauri's head. "But I no longer need you." His finger twitched on the trigger and the satisfying buck of recoil vibrated through his arm.
It was a beautiful Florida morning. The sky was a clear, flawless blue that only came about when the weather turned cold. However, the excitement around Cape Canaveral produced a warmth that permeated the spectators lining the highways and beaches. The Shuttle program was no longer a novelty. Each new launch had drifted into the arena of routine, yet the eyes of America were glued to this particular mission with special interest.
John stood with his father in the VIP viewing area, hands shoved deep in his pockets to ward off a chill uncommon even for January. He should be in class. His course load was a heavy one and the semester had just started. However, the opportunity to watch a live launch was one he would not miss for anything. Not even the ire of Professor Dubinsky.
As the countdown commenced, he felt each tick of the clock in his throat, keeping time with his pulse. Liquid fire rushed through his veins when the massive rockets ignited, sucking the breath out of his lungs. Everyone around him knew exactly how he felt and shared in the experience. Former and future astronauts, families, press, government officials. A collective gasp bound them all together.
That'll be me someday.
A boom reverberated over the launch pad, sending out a shockwave that made those standing even a mile away take a step back. The space shuttle lifted from the ground in a flurry of rolling smoke and brilliant flame. 20. 40. 60 seconds passed. John's eyes followed the craft as it labored to break free of Earth's gravity, gliding upwards with heavy grace. For that minute, he forgot he wasn't alone.
70. 72 seconds. The booster rockets broke away with a flash of light and a cloud of spent fuel. His gaze focused on the sky above him, but he could not see the shuttle. It seemed to have disappeared.
"Is that normal?" he heard someone say nearby.
Twin columns of smoke branched away from a perfect cloud. The two white streams became three. The three became more. But instead of rising, they were falling. A horrible blossom of descending debris. "Dad? What just happened?"
Jack Crichton was horrified. Grief stricken. No one seemed sure what had happened. But one thing was painfully clear. "It's gone, son. Challenger is gone."
The memory of his father's face at that moment was burned into his brain. Stronger than the image of the shuttle explosion. He would never think of the disaster without remembering the pain in Jack's eyes. These were people he knew, worked with, and lived beside. Gone in an instant.
That'll be me some day.
John did not have to see that expression on Jack's face when his son disappeared from the screens at Mission Control. It haunted him just the same. It drove him relentlessly toward unlocking the secrets of wormholes. Demanded he find his way home.
This quest, John's obsession, was what brought him and his shipmates close to Kinfea Prime's system. Another detour on their way to the rendezvous with Talyn. A quick little side trip to further his goal of erasing the anguish from one man's face.
Even now, with his thoughts centered around their present circumstances, John couldn't help but think about wormholes. He just knew there was one nearby, twisting and winding its way through space. And he was going to miss it because of Jool and a damn card game.
And because he was still naive enough to try and reason his way out of a bad situation. Harvey was right. The universe didn't play by his rules and the only people getting hurt were the ones John should be protecting.
Before she died, Zhaan had called him innocent. Stupid is what she should have said.
Stupid because he did not want to learn to shoot first. He was comfortable playing the defense. Reactionary. Let the universe take the first swing so his conscience would be appeased. Only problem was, the universe was not swinging just at him and his shipmates suffered as he imposed his special brand of humanity upon them.
Humanity in one hand, compassion in the other. The time was coming he would have to empty one of those hands to hold a gun.
D'Argo responded at the light rasp at the door, letting Tionar back in. The Kinfea had returned as promised with the items he had gone for. "Can your ally walk?"
"She's resting," John said. "What's going on?"
"It is no longer safe for you here. We must go." Tionar moved closer to Chiana, looking down at the sleeping Nebari. His lips stretched taunt, clamped together in a tense frown.
John thought the Kinfea almost looked regretful. He stood, sliding his back against the wall as he rose. The stone crunched under his jacket, sprinkling dust to the ground. "Where to?"
"To see the Council."
D'Argo's eyes narrowed on Tionar. "The Council."
"Yes. They have offered to help you." Tionar's demeanor changed as he lifted his head to gaze back at the two males in the room. It was subtle. His voice took on a waver, lacking the conviction of his words. He controlled his movements, as if afraid to allow his body language the opportunity to betray his thoughts.
It sent a sick, paranoid feeling to the pit of John's stomach.
"Help us. And what do they want in return?" John forced himself not to reach for his gun. He should just keep his hand at his side and not give Tionar any reason to suspect. Not now while he had the man's attention. Don't give him any reason to notice the Luxan moving to his back.
Tionar cocked his head to one side. "They do not request anything."
It was barely movement, the tiniest signal John could give. But D'Argo had been watching for it. He leaned his head back slightly and his long, paralyzing tongue snapped forward.
Tionar staggered once before falling.
John stood over him. "No one does anything around here for free."
***
Jool cradled the comm in her hand, fingers curled around the melted edges. Now that she had won the prize, the Interion was afraid to use it. Her life had been so simple once. The hardest challenge had come from scholarly pursuits, not decisions that resulted in life or death. Fear was a new emotion. Loneliness went beyond her scope of reality.
"Crichton? D'Argo?" Her voice sounded weak, tiny and uncertain. She took a breath and tried again, holding the communication device closer to her mouth. "Chiana?"
Silence answered her. Jool would give it one more try before summoning Pilot. The giant creature that directed Moya would be able to do little more then triangulate her companion's positions from their comm signals. But if they were not answering, what would be the point?
"John. Answer please." She looked over her shoulder toward Cabmauri sitting in a chair by the playing table. His head was downcast, fingers plucking at the cards nearby. Jool closed her eyes in defeat.
"Hey. Jool, baby. That you?" Static threatened to overpower the voice, but it came through perfectly as far as Jool was concerned.
"Crichton!" She clutched the comm tighter. "Where are you?"
"A not so safe-house somewhere on this rock of a moon station."
Jool tossed a glare toward her captor as she spoke into the palm of her hand. "You need to get out of there as soon as possible."
"No can do. The pod's been-."
"Stolen. Yes, I know," Jool interrupted. She did not have the patience to listen to a nonsensical discourse by the Human. Of all the creatures on Moya, John was one of the more intelligent. She just wished he made more sense when he spoke. "John, listen to me. Cabmauri never expected you to come back. He sent you so he could learn who has been stealing his cargo over the last cycle."
"So we're bait?"
"Yes. He put a tracking device in the crates you were sent to deliver. Legal Authority has the transport pod and the Crystals. Cabmauri believes that one of their officers has been behind the thefts all along."
"Dartoi?"
Jool looked sharply at her comm. "Yes. How did you know that?"
"Lucky guess. Doesn't help us though. We're still trapped here unless the Council decides to open the spaceport back up."
"Cabmauri has an idea how you can get off Gital Deep and back to the planet."
"Right. And we're supposed to trust him after he left us out to dry?"
"Do you have any other options?"
The only sound that came over the comm was static, creating a pause that lasted long enough to make Jool worry she had lost the connection. "John?"
"Yeah, I'm still here. No, no other options. And we're just about to run out of friends. But since Calamari is being so generous, tell him I have one other favor to ask him. Tell him he needs to have a chat with Dartoi."
***
Tionar was sprawled on the floor with his shoulders propped up against the wall. D'Argo stood on one side of him, hefting his Qualta Blade in his hands. Chiana, ignoring the protests of her friends, stood across D'Argo on the Kinfea's other side. A pistol dangled in one hand, the other wrapped around her waist.
John slowly lowered his weapon, pointing the muzzle at the ground instead of Tionar's face. "I'll let a lot of things slide. Ask my friends. They'll tell you. But one thing I can't stand, is being lied to. So you sure you want to stick to your story?"
"I have not been deceitful."
"Everyone," John said, barely controlling the level of emotion in his voice. He wanted to shout. Scream. Take his fist and work out his frustration on the Kinfea. "Everyone has been deceitful since the beginning. You're hiding something."
"You owe me your lives," Tionar retorted.
"That was pay back for Chiana saving your sorry ass."
"I am not obligated to worthless mercenaries."
The hilt of D'Argo's Qualta Blade connected sharply with Tionar's head. The Kinfea grunted, falling to his side with the force of the impact. Only Chiana saw John wince.
"What does the Council suddenly want to help us?"
Tionar straightened, holding a hand to his temple. Blood, like milk sap, ran between his fingers. "As I've said. They want nothing."
John closed his eyes, as much to strengthen his resolve over the heavy- handed tactics as it was to block out the sight of Tionar's face. He opened them again only to look at D'Argo. The Luxan pulled back his arm for another swing.
"Wait! Wait." The Kinfea held up his hand, cringing away from D'Argo and the sword. His words came slow. "The Council wishes to charge you for the attack on House Alendar."
"Frell," Chiana muttered. "Well, that's just perfect."
"And you were just gonna hand us over."
D'Argo snarled at the man near his feet. "Will they be coming here if you do not bring us soon?"
Tionar looked up at the Luxan. "No. They do not know of this place." He turned his head toward John. "It was not by my choice that this was to be. I know you are innocent, but the Council demanded a sacrifice to prevent further war among the Houses. They cannot afford to lose their control of Gital Deep. Such an escalation in violence would negate their Charter."
"Charter." John snapped his pistol back into its holster. "What Charter?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to organize his thoughts. Weariness was setting in and all that kept him going was surge after surge of adrenaline.
"The Charter of Rinald. It is what allows us to act independently of Kinfea Prime."
John's hand dropped. "Say that again? The part about being independent?"
Uncertainty marked Tionar's face. "The Council has full domain of Gital Deep as long as they are able to maintain order. If they should ever lose that control, we are once again subject to governance by the Ministry."
"This Ministry. Are they in charge of Legal Enforcement?"
"Yes," Tionar answered. "Minister Anto Rabisi. Legal Enforcement answers directly to him."
The tip of D'Argo's sword touched the ground as he turned his gaze toward John. "The Houses go to war-."
"And the Ministry gets to declare martial law." John reached out a hand toward Tionar, offering to help him up off the floor. "Wanna hear my theory?" he asked.
The Kinfea looked at the hand skeptically, but took it and hauled himself to his feet. "Yes."
"Y'all were had."
***
"Renegotiate." Dartoi Zeph could almost laugh. The humor played around his mouth, welled up his throat and threatened to spill out into Cabmauri's office. "You. Want to renegotiate?"
"Yes. The circumstances have changed and so must the terms of our agreement."
Dartoi raised his chin thoughtfully, turning slowly as he made his way toward a chair. As he sat, he pulled his pistol from its holster and rested it on his leg. He was pleased that Cabmauri's gaze rested briefly on the weapon. Dartoi wanted no misunderstandings here. "Please. Explain the change in circumstance."
"My recent shipment of Mabry Crystals. I hired mercenaries to transport them since my last crew was lost."
The other crew, Dartoi remembered them. They had returned to their ship before he had been able to bypass their security locks. It took them half an arn to die in the barren landscape beyond the atmosphere bubble of Gital Deep. Took him longer then that to finally decipher their ship codes.
"Mercenaries are very untrustworthy." And dead. He saw them leave Vieo's compound a microt before he pressed the detonation trigger. There was no way they could have survived the explosion. Not that Dartoi had stayed on the street corner long enough to be sure.
Cabmauri nodded his agreement. "But resourceful."
"Oh?" Dartoi feigned curiosity but he was already bored with the conversation. His fingers splayed over the side of his pistol. "This banter may charm the fools at your Gaming tables, but I am growing impatient."
Cabmauri nodded quickly. "They say they have gained useful information concerning the recent thefts of my shipments. They will sell this knowledge to me, but at a very high price. One I can not afford unless we agree upon a lower tax."
"You spoke with them recently?"
"Yes."
Dartoi had spent six cycles implementing this plan. Almost a quarter of his life dedicated to Anto Rabisi's goal of reclaiming Gital Deep. He was not about to let a band of upstarts ruin it all. The Council must believe without doubt that Bonyon Daul betrayed his partner. It was the only way to get the Houses to war with each other. If the mercenaries knew the truth and were able to prove it, all the work would be for nothing. "That does change things. But only temporarily. You are expecting them here soon?"
Cabmauri nodded. "Yes."
He started toward the door, making plans for how he wished to deal with these troublemakers. "Tell me. Is the female you've been hiding in your rooms a member of their crew?"
He was impressed by Cabmauri's ability to hide his surprise. But then, it should have come as no shock to discover Legal Authority had been watching him. They would know of anything out of the usual. Including the presence of a bright colored female. "She was, but no more. I won her in Bacria."
"You are a cunning smuggler. A brilliant gambler. But a horrible liar."
"Believe me or not," Cabmauri protested. "But you have no use for her."
"For her, I have a use." He lifted his pistol, lining the muzzle perfectly with Cabmauri's head. "But I no longer need you." His finger twitched on the trigger and the satisfying buck of recoil vibrated through his arm.