I sat in the chair for over an hour, trying to get myself back down to earth. It had been stupid, but I thought over what had happened, and wondered where I had done the wrong thing. He had been the one to come to me, he had yelled at me, his second had held a gun to my head, he had….
I gasped. He had used the force on me. That's where I knew about it! Everyone knew that if a Jedi waved his hand in your face you spilled your guts. How a Jedi became a drug lord, I was not sure I wanted to know. This made me feel slightly better in a horrid way. If he was Jedi trained, that meant I would have been able to do nothing to change the situation. I leaned over, and tapped the door lock to the cockpit, adding voice recognition to the lock mechanisms. I guessed that they had copied my fingerprints for the bedroom lock, but would find it hard to emulate my voice.
Glancing at the screen, I saw them eating, and reading through my papers. I wished them fun, having the code books in the room with me; the papers out there were gibberish if you didn't know the style I noted things in. I zoomed in suspiciously, and saw Milligan had that paper he had tucked away in his pocket open in front of him, and was reading numbers to Mickey's incredulous face. It was my yearly earnings, and projections. I knew that if you didn't know how much I actually travelled you could think I had low earnings, but I didn't have another home than this ship, and had no problems with being alone. I had rarely been alone when I was younger, day or night, so now it felt good. I worked on big projects like painting an entire wall. Small but worthwhile trades went fast for me and I could spend months doing nothing but flying back and forwards earning a small fortune which I would later spend on my ship or my adopted older sister.
Turning off the screen, I turned back to the panel in front of me, glancing at the gauges. Everything was well into the green and the cargo hold was full and operating fine. This would bring me a right big stash of money which I planned to spend on a better shield generator. Connor could invent one for me, like he had invented the neural pulse cannon, though this was the first time I had used it inside the ship. The neural pulse did nothing to machines but as soon as it was released it passed straight into ships and knocked everyone unconscious. It was how I got away from pirates, even occasionally taking their goods if my own hold was low.
There was a beep by the door, the warning signal that someone was trying to enter. The beep flattened out, and the attempt failed. Again the beep and flat tone. The one on the other side of the door tried three more times. I opened the intercom, having it distort my voice slightly so that they couldn't use it to get in.
"Trouble?" I suggested mildly. There was no answer. The red light came on, and I laughed over the intercom as the beep went flat again, not accepting my altered voice. I saw Milligan walk away from the door, and I began to work.
I installed a program that wouldn't allow the intercom voice to open doors, and then installed a shield to the cockpit that would repel them. I considered how to do it, and then went for the simple thing: the only person who could enter the cockpit would be a female. That I secured into the system.
Then I yawned, feeling an uncomfortable itch in my body. I wanted my shot.
It was one of the reasons I didn't want anyone in there. That it was intensely private was true, but I also didn't want the people I traded with know that I was on sugar blue. My dose was low in my estimation, not really enough to truly affect me other than energizing me, but I was still addicted. It was a weakness, and I didn't want them using it.
Opening the door, I stepped out and locked in behind me. I saw Milligan by the table again, while Mickey was on the sofa, watching the movie. The dishes had been simply pushed to the side on the table, for me to take care of. This didn't help my mood or my itch.
I didn't talk to them, but walked straight across the room to my bedroom and was just about to step through when Mickey's voice came over to me.
"Going to take your shot?" he asked, as if he really didn't care. I knew he did it to irritate me.
"Nope, going to bed. I don't do drugs. I only trade legal, remember?" I said straight, and heard him laugh.
"You know I actually believed that the first time you said it?" he commented. I gritted my teeth. I didn't like the cocky way he talked, as if he had me figured out. I stepped into my room, and sat down on the bed. I really didn't need this. I looked forwards to when I was alone again.
I took my shot, and felt the rush. Suddenly the people I had on my ship weren't such a problem. I relaxed and stripped off my nice shirt, pulling on a simple string top and a light blouse spotted with paint.
Painting was exactly what I needed, I decided. Something that I could do to ignore the world.
I headed out of the room, quite happy to pretend that the other two didn't exist. Heading into the spare room, I grabbed my paints then settled down in the corner I had been working on. Laying out what I needed, I sat back and considered the wall. I decided it needed some red and yellow flowers, or maybe some pale blue ones, but that would need to be further over. Red ones it was.
I started mixing the paint, trying to remember the flower shapes. I couldn't.
Standing, I sat at the table still ignoring the person across from me, as I flicked through my pictures. I had at one point taken an album full of pictures from a park and used that to design my painting.
I found several red ones and two types in particular that I liked. The names were noted faithfully, but I didn't mind with that. If the shape was nice and the colour was right, then the names could be whatever they wanted to be: I was going to paint them, not talk to them.
Picking up a small charcoal, I sketched out a bunch of flowers quickly, and then began to apply paint. I used broad stokes for the base colour, outlining roughly the different colour areas before later going over them again with more colours and refining the outlines. Once the flower base was finished I went on to do the fine detail of the things I had broadly outlined last night.
I had no idea how long I sat painting before I decided I was finished for the evening. I saw I had done quite a bit more than I thought, even getting some sky details in, with curly happy clouds. I had smiled as I painted them. Putting my paints in their box, I started to wash my hands and brushes.
"You know, I have never seen that particular reaction to that drug before" said a voice beside me: it was Mickey, leaning against the bench beside me.
"Then you could ask me if I care" I said pleasantly enough in return, eyes not straying from the brushes.
"Do you often paint after shooting up?" he asked. I shrugged.
"Yeah. Makes things alright."
"Did you use the dose in the syringe?"
"Do you always ask so many questions?" I retorted still unperturbed. "Yes, that's the dose I use"
I thought I head Mickey whistle, and turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question.
"That dose should send you on a full trip" he said. I shook my head.
"I don't work like that. My body has a high metabolism. The drugs can't affect me right" he seemed surprised, but didn't say anything as I finished with the brushes and moved on to cleaning the palette. I preferred to mix my colours new each day. It meant that I had to buy new paints more often, but paint wasn't expensive in any way.
"What did you do before you were painting the wall?" he asked.
"I designed some dresses. Traditional ball gowns, stage dresses- the like. There's a theatre company that buys up whatever I make"
"And have you always been this artistic?"
"Probably just as long as you have been too curious for your own good" I said neutrally, heading for the other room. I put the paints in their shelf, and then cleared off the bed.
"You can sleep here" I said, turning to Mickey. He was leaning against the closed door. "What-?" was all I had time to say before he stepped forwards and kissed me.
I gasped into his mouth, as his hands moved to my hips. I felt the instinctual urge to move closer, but I wasn't sure this was what I wanted.
"No, please." I begged. "I'm… I'm not sure…" Mickey backed off just enough to look into my eyes.
"I won't hurt you" he said, his voice low and rough. I shivered lightly. Raising my hands to his chest ostensibly to keep him at his distance, I licked my lips trying to think of something to say. They tasted different, more like him.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. He laughed a low throaty chuckle that sent a warm pulse down through my spine to my hips.
"Because you fascinate me. And because your room is sacrosanct" he said seriously. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of anything.
He kissed me again, and this time I wrapped my hands around his neck, drawing closer. I felt the scorching heat of his skin, and thought what the hell. If my life was going to get messed up, I might as well mess it properly: otherwise I could wonder later if it was worth it.
I woke up wrapped in a blanket and Mickey's arms, to a bleeping on the wall panel. Standing, I saw that we were in orbit around the planet that was covered with the central market. There was a hail waiting. I opened it speech only, since I wasn't exactly clothed.
"This is market patrol, unidentified craft please respond. This is the second warning" It said as I opened the channel.
"This is the ship Silver Swan, here to trade by permit" I responded.
"Silver Swan, identify your captain and transfer your permit."
"I'm the captain, my name is Tina Lingon. I'm transferring the papers now." I tapped the papers through to the other ship. There was a slight pause.
"Thank you, ma'm, it's all in order. Your landing place is clear. We are forwarding a news bulletin with the latest restriction changes on it" there was a beep to the computer, as the document arrived. I thanked them, and transferred the information to a notepad.
Turning, I saw Mickey was awake. There was a grin on his face.
"How in all the hells did you get yourself a permit?" he asked. I shrugged.
"It helps when you know some people." I said easily. "It's not a prime spot that I got, but its good enough. Costs a load in taxes, but is truly worth it." I sat down on the bed, kissing him. "So do we part ways here then?" I said. He nodded.
"Afraid so." He stretched out, running a hand easily down my back. "We might meet again though" he said.
"I would like that" I said, fluttering my eyes at him making him laugh. Then I looked at the tablet.
"Wow"
"What is it?" Mickey asked.
"They dropped all tariffs on goods from Ossetia! I have a few people on that planet who are willing to trade" I furrowed my brow in thought. The next few points were nothing to do with me, on alcohol imports. I didn't like dealing with alcohol since there were always swinging prices for them, and any problems in transport and it was worthless.
"Hm, the taxes on rice have risen. Why would they do that? They could cause a famine"
"They don't think like that, darlin" Mickey said. He had been reading over my shoulder. I sighed, and handed the tablet to him, grabbing my clothes. I needed to get on the ground, and soon.
Dressed, I headed out of the room, leaving Mickey to dress himself. Milligan was on the sofa, still dozing slightly. His eyes snapped open as I walked by but he didn't comment on the fact that I had spent the night in the room with Mickey.
The cockpit shield had held, and apparently not been tested. Milligan had probably felt no need once he heard me with Mickey. I coloured slightly to think of him hearing us. I lowered the shield, needing the power to make the precise landing. I left the door unlocked too, so after a few minutes, Mickey slipped into the chair beside me. He admired the place while I was manoeuvring through the stratosphere.
"And here is yet more technology that hasn't reached the outer rim yet" he said ironically. "And some that I honestly thought didn't exist. Like that pulse" he was going through my computer on the co-pilot screen.
"Just don't change anything" I replied distracted, steering into the proper decent, avoiding the strong winds that buffered the upper atmosphere in this planet. The ship touched down on its dock. A weather shield which had pulled back to let me pass through closed again, keeping the planet's heavy rain from getting in. I set everything to rights, and grabbed the flight records and cargo manifest as the guards approached.
"You don't have anyone on here with you" Mickey murmured and slipped out, no doubt to sit safely out of sight in the back.
"Do you really think I would risk my life to tell them? I like life" I heard form the cabin as Mickey laughed at that. I headed out, and down the gangway. The guards where standing on each side of the landing official.
"Mr. Lorry" I nodded at him, handing him my papers.
"Miss Lingon" he said courteously in greeting. "Are you alone on the ship?" he asked.
"Yes" I said, with the same straight face as he also asked if I transported illegal substances or weapons to use against the 'authorities'. These were routine questions, and were only asked in case I had any on board, and if so they could throw me in jail. I had no intension of being thrown in jail, however.
"If you don't mind my asking, is all alright in the market?" I asked respectfully.
"What? Oh, yes. Business is booming" he replied, distracted.
"Then why the two guards?" I asked curiously.
"There have been some threats, very unpleasant" Mr. Lorry wiped his forehead. I looked concerned.
"But, why? Against you? Whatever for?" I cried out in confusion. I could hardly imagine why someone would want to threaten him. He hardly paid any attention to his job as it was; it wasn't hard just to go around him.
"Rebels. They declared this base a target. Just rebel rambling, but still dangerous" I raised my eyebrows.
"Well, if it's a target, I don't know if I want to trade here" I said bluntly.
"That's why they made it a target" one of the guards said. "They know all the traders will go around it if there is a danger." His voice was scornful, and I glared at him.
"I make my living off this trade. I have to do what I can to keep with the market. Threats against a base make me question how much I like trading there." He nodded curtly, though still looked scornful. The other guard simply agreed politely, throwing a glance at his partner. The scornful man was probably new, and had no idea that he was living dangerously insulting traders.
"I have quite a bit to trade; I'm going to request a transporter to my storages." I said, and Mr. Lorry agreed to send one, and bill my tab for its hire. He finalized the papers, and headed off to the next landing in his section. I looked around to check if they moved the security feed. They hadn't, it was still pointed at the cargo unloading hatch, as the authorities here were more worried if I smuggled something without paying tax than if I brought friends.
Walking back into the ship, I saw no sign of either Mickey or Milligan.
"They left. I can show you how to walk to avoid the camera" I said to the cabin, and both appeared like magic, one from the second bedroom, the other from the kitchen. I guess dealing drugs makes you good at hiding.
"Thanks, darlin" Mickey drawled. I smiled at him and went to grab my jacket. Though the weather was kept back, the constant lowering of the shields for ships to pass through meant a cold draft pulled through the base.
"I have a transporter arriving in ten minutes. You can be long gone by then" I tossed them some badges, two which proclaimed them visiting traders on a temporary permit. I strung my formal permit holder card around my neck on a chord. "Those badges should get you safely away from the docks. Please don't give me the trouble of letting them be found later" I said, in a pained voice, and a mischievous grin lit Mickey's face, though Milligan nodded seriously. If nothing else, Milligan would make sure that the badges were destroyed. I was, after all, now a viable part of their routes and networks. Keeping the friendship of a captain of her own ship was well worth it.
"See that line?" I asked, leaning out and pointing at a green line on the floor. They nodded. "They say that's there to keep people out of danger of the motors, but it's actually to keep people in sight. Walk on the inside of that line and the ship will block you." Milligan thanked me quietly and left. Mickey stood still, looking at me.
"Gonna miss ya, girl" he said. I grinned.
"Might even miss you too." I said, and he smiled back. "You never told me your title." I said after a short silence.
"Turnsbourne" he said.
"I'll keep an ear out" I promised softly.
"As will I, Tina Lingon" he said just as softly, pulling me into a hug. A last deep kiss and he was gone.
I saw two figures disappearing around the edge of the doorway, and knew this might be the last time I ever saw him. I shrugged, resigned. I would listen for him though, in the news: for many months I would listen to see if his name was ever mentioned.
The transporter entered the hall, and I sighed and started to unload my cargo.