《Giselle's Gazelle: The Gazelle Stumbles》 Manyport Station The red-headed woman stumbled, lifting her hand against the bulkhead for support. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her flight jacket, wincing at the sharp odor. Her companion took a step back and asked, "Is it over?" Captain Giselle Gili looked back at where the sick had puddled on the floor. Did they have maintenance bots to clean up the mess? She hoped the vile spew wouldn''t be enough to short anything out. Giselle straightened, took a deep breath and nodded her head. "I think the worst has passed." "If we were on the ship," the other woman noted, "I would make you clean that up. Those acids and¡­" she peered at the muck her forehead furrowed with effort. "What is that? What did you eat?" "Nothing," Giselle confessed. "And we''re not on the ship, Dede. No pulling the Chief Engineer card on me." Dede Spivakovsky also served as First Mate, Chief Science Officer, Head Steward, and, when needed, Chief Medical Officer onboard the Gazelle. Their small scout vessel docked at Manyport Station required only a crew of two and they both filled a variety of roles. "Now, where are we going?" "A bar." "A bar? If we''re going to a bar, why did we drink that fermented... whatever... back on the ship?" "I was worried the bottle was going bad," Dede answered sheepishly. "Wait a second," Giselle commanded, lifting her hand. "That drink wasn''t supposed to be fuzzy?!" Dede shrugged her shoulders and started an unsteady walk down the hallway. "I''m not sure." Scowling, Captain Gili stumbled along after her XO. The two shambled through the space station hallways, gradually wandering into more dimly lit corridors. Mysterious crates lined the halls, their contents marked in alien languages and imposing-looking icons.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. "This looks like the way to the docking ring," Giselle noted, her lips slowly wrapping around each syllable. "Not a bar." "I swear," Dede tried to comfort her boss. "It''s right around the corner." "Maybe that sign says something," Giselle stopped and stepped closer to the wall. "What dialect is that? I can''t tell." She pulled a torch from her belt to get a better light in the dim light. Dede lifted a hand to touch the marks. "Captain, I think this is just some damage done to the wall." "Well, I''m fairly certain we''re not in a good part of the station." "How can you tell?" "I think I just stepped on a body." The two crouched, taking care not to stumble onto the prone figure. The body looked pale in the light of Giselle''s torch. Ugly blue and yellow bruises dotted his face. Dede reached out to check the figure''s pulse. "He''s alive," Dede said, "but needs medical attention. I wonder what happened to him." "A robbery," answered a low, basso voice from the shadows. A shift in the torch illuminated a massive figure sitting on a crate, not but two meters away. A wide- brimmed leather hat sat atop a broad face. The man brought together two ham hock- sized fists to crack his knuckles, then stood up to his full height, towering over the women. The thought of cured meat caused Giselle''s stomach to flip again. She stifled a burp. "Now," the voice said, "I would hate to damage such pretty ladies, so why don''t you--" It looked like a wave, a casual flip of Giselle''s wrist. The solid thunk of metal biting wood carried over the silence of the hallway. The giant looked down to see the handle of a dagger, positioned between his legs and embedded in the crate he just vacated. He took one more step forward before noticing another dirk in the captain''s hand. "You know what they say?" she taunted him. "The bigger the goods, the bigger the target." A grin of uneven, greenish teeth spread out across the man''s squat face. He grunted and started to shuffle away. She waited for him to turn the corner before turning to Dede. "Let''s get our new friend here somewhere safe.¡± The two started to wrap their arms around the fallen figure and lifted him from the deck. "You know," Dede grunted. "When I usually pick up guys, it requires more conversation." Her captain''s laughter started as a chuckle, grew through a chortle, to bloom in a robust guffaw. "What, Elle? It wasn''t that funny." "No, No," Giselle assured her. Her giggles upset her balance and she laid her burden down as she sat on the floor. "It''s not that¡­ It''s¡­ it''s..." She burped. "It''s just that I was aiming at his hat!" Honest Work They had replaced the guns on several hard points with missile launchers and it looked the main sensor array had gone through an upgrade. Through the vista of the bar''s viewport, the Alliance Cruiser Resolute dwarfed the other ships maintaining station around the base. Dede found herself wondering if power coupling XJ/1345 still rattled in its casing. She had tried new parts, more padding, soundproof materials and that part continued clattering her entire time onboard ship. It had been more than five years since the Resolute served her billet and she still considered the "Noise of Part XJ/1345" a personal failure. She and her captain had been drummed out of the Alliance Navy, charged with disobeying direct orders, and stripped of all rank, but the unnerving jangling of one power coupling left the worst taste. With a sigh, Dede turned from the window to find her captain out in the bar. She had found a job. Even if it meant travelling to the Resolute''s next port of call of its goodwill tour of the outer territories. It''s not that the past catches up with you, she thought. Sometimes you have to follow it. Giselle lifted her head as her XO neared the table. "How''s our new friend?" Dede popped into the chair next to her captain, surveying the wreckage of empty glasses and snack trays. Leaning forward, she started hunting for a leftover scrap of food. "He''ll live," she reported. "He''s talking to station security. There''s been a rash of robberies in that section." "They should seal it up," the Captain said, her eyes only half open, "and vent it into space. It''s the only way to be sure." "It''s the only way to be sure," Dede agreed, her head bobbing. Spotting a half-filled flagon on the table, she took a sniff before lifting it for a sip. "Oh," she sighed. "This is nice." "It''s a hangover cure," Giselle remarked through a lopsided grin. "But I''m not hungover yet." "That''s the magic." The XO thought about that for a moment. She had heard tales about the bartender here, the Queen of Drinky Things. Dede took another sip. The warmth of the drink embraced her, melting away the stress of the robbery attempt and the hour spent with security. Then wonder and truth of the cure sunk in. Dede lifted her hand to signal the server. "Can we have another round here? One of everything." Giselle chuckled quietly and lifted her glass in a toast. "God save the Queen." "Look," Dede began as another series of drinks were brought to the table. "While I was waiting in the security office, I answered a post¡­"Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. "Captain Gili," said a deep, resonant voice. Dede turned her head to look behind her. The man had crept up to the table while the two sat captivated by the incoming flow of alcohol and other intoxicants. Recognizing that face, the XO deeply regretted not stapling a bell to him when she had the chance. That face. That face warmed hearts. That trim, athletic physique brought a tingle to other parts of the body; something about how it filled out that neat, sharply pressed officer''s uniform. That voice flowed like caramel, smooth and low with just enough sweet. Now, if he could only speak sweet nothings through that perfectly formed mouth instead of stupid insults and barbs. That mouth didn¡¯t lay out platitudes. It spit landmines of conversation killers and spite. Not for the first time Dede daydreamed about wrapping her naked body around that man, then pressing her fingers to his full lips. "Don''t speak. You''ll ruin it. Just hum something. ''Kay?" "Military Intelligence," Giselle said, ignoring the man near the table. "Can you really have one with the other?" "We used to be in the military," Dede replied with a shrug. "Ug. Don''t remind me," Giselle remarked with a flip of her wrist and a sip from another glass. "But we got out. We are intelligent. Ergo¡­." "Our families are in the military. Still in the military." The Captain''s lips wrinkled into a frown. "OK. So it''s not a perfect¡­ Oh!. Alston. I didn''t see you standing there. Are you provoking or touring?" "I''m pretty certain that''s not where that word comes from," Dede mumbled. "Captain Gili," the handsome man repeated. "Mate Spivakovsky." The thought of mating put a little color in Dede''s cheeks, at least until he started speaking the stupid again. "How surprising to find you both out of prison." Giselle''s red hair fell across her forehead as she tilted her head. "They couldn''t make the charges stick," Explained the Captain. "Said it was sloppy information." Dede nodded. "Poor intelligence," she added. Sub-Commander Alston Kildare of the Zeslietanian Navy surveyed the glasses on the table. "I don''t have any doubt you''ll be charged with something else, soon. Idle hands, you know." "Neutral ground here, Sub-Commander," Giselle asserted. "Besides, we''re not doing anything illegal." "I can give it time," Alston assured them. "In a bar. Jobless. I figure you''ll have the constab¡­" "We have a job," Dede blurted. Giselle looked over to her XO, unable to hide the incredulous expression on her face. "Running medical supplies and technicians to Bothecarro. Totally legit." "See, Sub-Commander," Giselle added. "We''ve got a job. Totally legit. In fact," the Caption rose to her unsteady feet. Her fingers inelegantly gripped the edge of the table for support. "I''m going down to the ship right now to prep her. Dede, settle our tab." The tall woman took a deep breath and started slowly for the door, one foot patiently trailing after the other. "Bothecarro," Dede mentioned as she stood. "That''s not even in the Duchy''s space, is it? I guess it will be a while before we see you.¡± She pulled a pad from a pouch on her belt and started tapping. She considered trying to shift the considerable tab to Alston, but decided the Gazelle couldn¡¯t take off before he could pass charges. She frowned as she watched the ship¡¯s bank balance dwindle even further. ¡°I suppose not,¡± Alston agreed. Dede lifted her eyes and studied the Sub-Commander¡¯s face. Something beyond his good looks held her attention for a moment. Something hid behind those dark brown eyes. ¡°You have a job.¡± Dede nodded, her lip rolling between her teeth. Her finger pointed towards the door. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got a job.¡± She headed out, sparing Sub-commander Kildare one backward glance. Work The two worked through the checklist, absent their usual banter and teasing. Their fingers coaxed green lights across their controls, casting a necrotic glow on the dimly lit bridge. With one last glimpse at each other, Captain Gigi¡¯s hands tapped a sequence of controls. The world outside the view screen twisted and shifted from a shimmering star field to the flickering chromatics of jump space. "I like these gigs from Manyport Station," Giselle mused as she reviewed a few of the virtual gauges of her control board. "Short distance to the transit point means saving money on supplies." "But less time to get to know the passengers," Dede mentioned. "Yes," Giselle agreed. "That tall one, Talen? He''s a cool drink of water." "The tuff on the talawan''s tail," Dede agreed with a nod. "Have you actually ever seen a talawan?" "No," Dede confessed. "But it''s still a saying." "They use that bundle of fur to distract prey before they turn and attack." "It''s still pretty." Captain Gili chuckled as she secured her board. "Yes it is. Yes it is." "We have a week in jump then four days in transition to Bothecarro," Dede remarked as the lights flicked off her board one by one. "That''s plenty of time to get to know our four passengers." "They are a comely bunch." "Are you laying claim?" Giselle shook her head as she slipped out of her chair and headed for the bridge hatch. "I have a new love." "Tell me you''re not going back down to the cargo hold to sniff the customs seals, again." "We are going down to the hold to make sure the cargo is secure. I might take a brief whiff of the deliciously legal, paying cargo while I''m down there." The lights on Dede''s control pad winked with the security of a successful handoff to the tablet she kept never farther than an arm¡¯s reach. A giggle bubbled out of her lips as she shook her head.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "What?" her captain challenged. "That is the smell of honest work." ------- It didn''t seem right. Dede held up the multiscanner to the metallic crate one more time and double checked the readings. Her eyes scanned up and down the row of similarly packed and sealed crates in the dim light of the hold. A few days of inspections had revealed a gradual uptick in temperature from this particular unit, almost as if it were slowly overheating. Dede checked the manifest. A container of absontium retropahge did not overheat, as a rule. The Chief Engineer tucked her scanner away in her belt and pulled out a pry bar. Her fingers brushed the custom seal, its raised surface and filigree. She sighed and started working on the crate''s side panel. The captain would forgive her this moment of curiosity, assuming Dede could find the cause of the reading. The panel popped out, rattling as it fell to the floor. The loud noise in the quiet space caused Dede to jump, started by the sharp clang. The mass of wires, diodes, and what exactly was that? Gave her another shock. "You don''t look very much like a container of absontium retrophage." "You shouldn''t have seen that." Dede hopped forward at the sound of the voice then turned. "Avis? Isn''t it?" she asked of the man standing behind her. He nodded, running his hand through the curls of his green hair. "You should not have seen that." "It was overheating." The engineer pointed weakly at the crate behind her. "It''s not a crate full of meds. It''s a power source. Did you know about this?" The handsome man with the green hair sighed and pulled a device from his belt. "Talen," he said into the communicator. "We have a problem." Knowing who he referred too, Dede wasted no time sprinting for the door. ------ The kiss put all the right tingles in all the right places. His lips moved from hers to nibble gently at her neck, then her ear. The ear thing bothered her. Gili never cared for the sound of someone slobbering close up. She pulled away. Talen had promise. She could teach him what she needed in the days they shared together before arriving at Bothecarro. "Fancy a drink?" she asked. The man nodded as they separated. Gili turned her back on him to cross the short distance to a cabinet suspended on a wall. "I''m surprised at the size of your quarters, Captain," Talen told her as she retrieved a few bottles and glasses, "and it''s austerity." "I''m not one to form attachments," she replied as she took the caps off the bottles. "I''ll keep that in mind." A wry smile crept across Gili''s face. "As for size. Dede and I tried to cram as much cargo and passenger space into the Gazelle as possible when we refitted her." "Maybe we should use my cabin, next time." Her smile widened. "That sounds presumptuous," she answered. "If there is a next time, there are things you should¡­." "Talen, we have a problem." A harsh squawk from a communicator cut across the room. Gili continued her mixing as her guest shuffled behind her. The voice quieted as she supposed Talen lifted the device to his ear. She turned, leaving the drinks behind her on the narrow counter. "Is everything all¡­." The sight of the gun surprised her, an ugly, snub nose, slug thrower. She should have known better. It wasn''t the first time neglecting to pat down a guest to her quarters would cause trouble. "Well," Gili told him, her lips curling into a frown. "Aren''t you the tuft on a talawan''s tail?" Dishonest Work The black hole of the snub-nosed barrel stared her down. "We don''t want to hurt you," its wielder told her. "A woman of your skills can fetch¡­" A sliver of silver few across the room to embed itself in the gunman''s eye. Captain Gili followed close behind, crossing the space between her and her attacker as quickly as the cocktail fork she used as a dart. The captain''s palm drove the fork deeper into Talen''s brain. "You do not draw a gun on someone in their quarters," she yelled, her voice loud in the closed space, "then tell them you don''t want to hurt them! One hand curled around his collar to support the collapsing figure while her other kept pummeling his face. "It''s not very fucking smart!" Bone snapped and crackled under her continued assault. The body trembled and shuddered in her hands under the abuse. Captain Gili didn''t even notice when Talen breathed his last. Her motions slowed. The sound of her ragged breaths echoed in her quarters. She dropped the beaten corpse suddenly, her eyes opening wide at the damage caused by her hands. Her communicator slipped under her bloody hands, refusing to let go of her belt without a struggle. Eventually, it came to her lips. "Dede! Dede! Where in the fifteen hells are you?" ----- The leading edge of the 15-centimeter bulkhead passed a hair''s breadth from the tip of her nose. Hours of dramatic escape practice served her well. Yes. Mate Spivakovsky practiced dramatic escapes during the down time of the Gazelle''s travels. She knew her captain that well. The blast door slid into place behind her with a satisfying thump. A second thump followed as her pursuer ran into the thick metal hatch. Dede shimmied up against the wall, frantically tapping on her pad as her breath started to slow. A banging started on the other side of the door. She kept working the checklist, satisfied nothing short of a nuclear torch could penetrate the barrier. A few taps summoned a video feed of the green haired man''s futile efforts to break through. A few more brought her live audio. "Avis! Hey Avis!" she called through the link. The man looked around, puzzled at first. His eyes darted around, looking for a camera. "You''ll never find the override," Dede told him. "We''re sneaky, that way."Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "Let me out of here, you bitch!" "That is not the way to talk to someone holding you captive." "You''re the captive. My boss is with the captain, right now! We''ll have your ship in a flat minute." Dede bit down the worry and returned to the task at hand. Her board read all secure and the captain could take care of herself. "Avis. I think your boss might be the one in trouble there. Your teammates are still sleeping in their rooms and don''t even know that we''ve locked the doors on them. So now, in this little moment of peace, we''re going to sit here and have a little chat." "Fuck off." The Mate tapped her pad then watched as Avis frantically searched for handholds as his feet lifted from the floor. "I don''t think you understand the gravity of the situation," Dede quipped. "The cargo," Avis shouted, his hands reaching for anything to cling to, "you''ll¡­." "The cargo is neatly stowed," the Mate reminded him. "Don''t worry. It''s not like I would turn off the inertial dampers in there. Now that would mess up the cargo, and leave a slimy, pink film across the bulkhead that would take days to clean up." "But, let''s see¡­. Those crates look pretty tough. I bet they could handle what? 3 standard gravities?" Her fingers took a walk along her tablet one more time. Avis let out a scream before plunging awkwardly to the deck. The cracking noise carried through the audio feed. "Avis?" "Avis?" Dede waited for a response and sighed. "Dede! Dede!" her communicator screamed. "Where in the fifteen hells are you?" The device slipped from her belt. "Passageway Alpha, just fore of the main cargo hold." "Are you OK?" "Yes. I''m fine." "Is there anyone with you?" The Mate looked at the video feed from the other side of the door. "Yes. But I think I broke him." ------ They watched the two for a short time, watched them as they struggled with the door, tried to pick the lock, then took a stab at wrenching it open. Dede and Giselle giggled at the futility, then eventually flipped on the audio. "Good morning. This is Captain Gili. By now you''ve noticed you''ve been locked in your quarters." The two stopped working on the door to look at each other. "Where are Avis and Talen?" one of them ventured. Giselle swallowed before answering. "Talen is dead. I killed him with a cocktail fork. Avis is unconscious in our med bay suffering from broken bones and contusions." The two captives looked at each other with eyes wide. "That means neither of them can talk. So, we''re going to talk with you." "We''re not telling you anything," one of the two men blurted out. "Seal up the section and vent it into space?" Dede suggested over the open mic. "It''s the only way to be sure," Giselle agreed. The sound of escaping air carried over the audio after a few taps on Dede''s tablet. The two men panicked, scrambling around the room with bed linens, looking to plug the leak. A few minutes of frenzy left the two breathless and pale. "OK. We''ll talk." ------ Captain Gili pried the last panel of camouflage away from the hibernation capsule, surprised the sinkhole in her stomach could dip any further. Bodies, rows and rows of all shapes and species of bodies, locked in suspended animation, lined up in rows. "Slaves!" Giselle exclaimed. "Our legitimate cargo is a gross of slaves!" "Two gross, actually," Dede corrected, her face twisting into a frown. "We are in so much trouble." Wet Work They heard the stories. They ended in one of two ways: Slavers jettisoning their full cargo of slaves at the first sight of a government ship, or some governments spacing the slavers after catching them with their cargo. Chattel slavery might be legal on Bothecarro (It was. Both Giselle and Dede checked.), but transporting slaves carried exceedingly harsh consequences in nearly all civilized space, even the Outer Territories. They talked through it. The options, the risks. None of them sounded appealing, and all of them could leave the two in the brig, or worse. Land somewhere, get arrested as slavers. Get pulled over for an inspection, get arrested as slavers. Try to come clean with the authorities, probably get arrested as slavers. "Are you sure you want to do this?" First Mate Spivakovsky asked from her seat in the tiny bridge. "Have you ever known me to go running to the authorities?" Captain Gili replied as she plotted their approach. "There was that one ¡­." "That doesn''t count." "You don''t even know what I was going to say." "That other time doesn''t count, either." "Still think Sub-Commander Kildare set us up?" Dede asked. "That''s what the slavers told us," Giselle answered. "But I''d like to get more proof." Dede confirmed their flight path, then squinted through the cockpit window to pick out a slightly brighter pinprick among the stars surrounding the green orb of Bothecarro. The Alliance Heavy Cruiser Resolute orbited the planet on a goodwill tour of the unclaimed territories. A loud sigh escaped the Mate''s lips. It wasn''t that they were just going to turn themselves over to the authorities. They were, quite literally, throwing themselves on the tender mercies of THE Man, a very specific man. ****** Ships smell a certain way. The interior passageways and rooms collect the odors from the crew and cargo to build up over the years. Captain Gili couldn''t nail down the specifics of the Gazelle''s scent, but after her years piloting the ship, it smelled like home. Alliance ships all smelled the same: clean antiseptic, bright metal, and harsh lighting. Giselle fidgeted in the all-too-comfortable chair of the conference room. She aspired to this, at one time in her life. Now, as her fingers fiddled with the ends of her hair, it felt as alien as a Muhwat in a hot tub. The door slid open to let the Resolute''s captain into the room. Captain Gili had to admit the man looked solidly fit for his age. A tailored, blue uniform stretched across his wiry build. His gray mustache drooped below the ridge of his narrow chin. The captain set down the tablet he carried on the polished conference room table and flipped through the contents. Giselle shifted from one cheek to another as she waited in her chair. "Captain Gili." His basso voice rumbled across the space between them. "Top of your class at the Naval Academy on Vothade. Spent four years in SAR before a dishonorable discharge. I recall there was some discussion of charges, but I see that didn''t make it into the official record." "Since leaving the service," he flipped the screen, "Oh, yes... A record of ownership of a converted scout vessel, a number of arrests for various misdemeanors. I see one, no two, warrants out for your arrest issued by the Dutchy of Zeslietania, although the reasons are a little vague." Giselle opened her mouth to speak, saw the look on the captain''s face, and thought better of it. "And now you turn yourself in to an Alliance ship, with a hold full of slaves, three men in fear for their lives, and a dead body." The captain straightened as he lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. After a sigh, his hands met each other in front of his chest. "What do you have to say for yourself?" Her thin lips pursed together before she answered. "Hi, Dad." ****** The locks went on as soon as the Gazelle touched down on Bothecarro. No amount of thrust would lift the ship off-planet without tearing off her landing gear. Dede and Giselle watched the harbor authority take up positions around them through video monitors mounted outside the vessel. "It''s almost like they were tipped off," Dede murmured. "Keep watching," Captain Gili ordered as she stood. "Find our little snitch. I''m going down to the hatch to meet our guests and give them the full tour. A very full tour, I imagine." "Make sure you bring lube," Dede called after her. "I hear they can be quite invasive."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ***** The last panel fell away. The customs officer counted the revealed boxes and made a final check on the manifest. She turned to her squad leader. "Everything''s here and correct, sir." The uniformed officer accepted the tablet to review the list. The wrinkles of his face pulled into a scowl. "Let me be sure I''m getting this straight," Captain Gili interjected. "I''m on lockdown because my papers are in order?" The grimace deepened on the officer''s face. He turned to another of his minions. "The ship''s clean," the young man reported. "One other crew member. Five registered passengers. No contraband." Giselle leaned closer to the senior officer, a grin spreading across her face. "If we knew you were coming, we could have baked you something; a cake, maybe." The quip earned her a bruise as the squad leader angrily pressed the cargo manifest into her chest. "Keep your nose clean, Captain," he sneered. Giselle stepped out of the way as the officer gathered his men and left the ship. The mess of open crates and packing materials strewn around the hold earned a long, deep breath. Captain Gili set down the manifest and began the slow process of reorganization. It took the cheerful arrival of her first mate before she would even look up. Giselle watched as Dede skipped into the hold, a tablet clutched to her breast. "Tell me you found him." Mate Spivakovsky nodded her head rapidly, a smile splayed out across her lips. "Oh, yes." She slid next to her captain and started replaying the video capture. "He was standing on the edge of the landing pad, scanning the whole thing." "Well, this looks really exciting..." Giselle frowned. "Wait for it," Dede chided. "That customs lieutenant comes out to confront him just about¡­ now." Gili winced as she watched the screen. "Oh, that''s going to require some dental work." Her hand came to her mouth as the frames ticked off. "I don''t think that''s supposed to hang quite that¡­. Oh¡­ Just¡­ Ow." "At least it will be easy to identify him," the Captain mused. "Only so many people can be at the local hospital with those specific injuries." Dede''s smile grew even larger. "I already identified him. Diplomatic personnel have to register with local authorities and their pictures are posted publicly. An image search matched them right up." "He''s a diplomat?" The first mate''s head bobbed up and down. "I''ll give you one guess." "You know," the Captain said. "One day, I''m going to find the actual Duchess of Zeslietania and¡­ and¡­." "And?" "Tell her she has terribly mean people working for her, like Alston Kildare and that," she pointed to the screen, "that guy." She puffed her hair off her forehead. "After a curtsey and doing all the things you''re supposed to do with royalty." Giselle continued. "Let''s get these supplies to the med center and collect our meager shipping fee." "It was nice of your dad to give us a job, after he confiscated all of our cargo," Dede reflected. "It would have also been nice if we could have collected a bounty on the slavers." "It could have been a lot worse," Giselle replied. Dede nodded her head in agreement, more slowly, this time. "Even after all we''ve been through, he still knows that I wouldn''t lie to him." "We''re not done yet," the Captain continued. "With any luck, we can be on our way back to Multiport Station before our diplomat friend here regains consciousness and gets a message out. There''s still a score to settle and those customs agents gave me an idea." ****** The laugh bubbled out of her mouth like sparkling water dancing along a stone riverbed. The Queen of Drinky Things stood there, watching as her new concoction frothed and foamed over the lip of its glass. She lifted a gloved hand to her forehead. "I think it might be alive." Dede hesitated, unsure if she should take the cocktail from the counter. The Queen looked at her. "If it is alive, intelligent," her lips twisted into a look of thought, "could you ask it if it wants to be drunk before¡­ you know¡­ drinking it?" The First Mate nodded her head and slowly reached for the glass. "And if it''s alive," the Queen continued. "Don''t let Jazz see it. She''ll hit it with a hammer. It''s just her way." "I''ll take good care of him¡­ her¡­ it," Dede assured her as she walked away with her drinks in hand. Finding her captain, she slid the cocktail over. "Here. This one''s for you." She watched cautiously as Giselle took a sip. "What?" the Captain looked askance at her first mate. "Do I have something on my face?" Dede touched a finger to her upper lip, unsure if the foam across the table from her moved on its own. Giselle''s quick wipe may have just destroyed a new life form''s chance at a dynasty. Dede pushed the thought out of her mind and joined her captain as the two watched the entrance. It only took another round of drinks before a certain dark-haired sub-commander slithered into the bar. The crew of the Gazelle moved smoothly into position. "Alston!" Giselle called as she settled a firm hand on his shoulder. Dede settled in behind him and pressed the short barrel of a revolver into the small of his back. "How''s life in service of the Duchy?" To his credit, the agent didn''t blink, take a breath, pale, or look surprised in any way. "Captain Gili. I didn''t expect to see you here." Giselle tilted her head. "I can''t imagine. I am so very glad we ran into each other. I have some friends who wanted to meet you." Shadows fell across their faces as five giants gathered round. The tall, blue female Calmora leaned over to sniff the sub-commander''s delicate coiffure. "Smells delicious," she grumbled, her horns trembling. "They are part of the cargo you arranged for us to pick up. We offered them passage to Manyport. The introduction to you is a freebie we threw in." Captain Gili leaned close, her voice a whisper. "A ship hungry for legitimate business. I will admit. We made it easy for you. Tell me. Did you plant the job offer once you heard we were on the station, or did you reroute cargos after we accepted?" "And you just had to watch," Dede added. "That diplomat at the landing pad. He was linked to the Duchy, just like you." "Sloppy work, Kildare," Giselle said. "Not enough for charges, but enough for¡­" Her eyebrow lifted as she scanned the faces towering above them. Alston nodded in response. "You can''t hurt me here," he told her. "Neutral ground." Giselle stepped back. "Take him to the outer docking ring, area 254. They''ve been having trouble with brigands in that section." Dede cleared out of the way and let the small crowd hustle Sub-Commander Kildare out the door. The two watched as the cluster of menace disappeared around a corner. "Feeling better?" she asked. Her captain grinned and led them both back to their table. "You know," Dede offered. "That we turned over a load of slaves to the Alliance¡­ that''s going to get around. We''re going to have problems getting shady gigs." Captain Gili settled back in her chair and took a long draft from her drink. "Dede, I think I¡¯m OK with that."