Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
My mother's neighbours are the aggravation that keeps your ear ridges itchy
Shohari
“CAN I REMIND you, you said we aren’t picking up sapients.” Muzati took a draw of a ridiculously orange drink in an equally ridiculous tall glass.
I shifted my gaze from the departing human male to glare at her. “This is different, and you know it.”
It rankled that I’d broken my year-long streak of having a full cargo bay.
Moving the refugees may have added a few days to our itinerary, but having the space occupied most of the way to Hydouis made it worth it.
That and the credits. Why the humans all wanted to go to different places, I didn’t know, but the more flying, the more credits.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I said. “They can either come, or not.”
The human had been tolerable to speak with. Ryth? Roth? I’d have sooner transported bulk freight than live cargo, but folk who’d fallen foul of the Galactic Reserve? It wouldn’t be honourable to leave them here.
“What’s he on about?” Paiata muttered, and glanced up from his wrist-comm. “You’ve got me interested in the bloody dai Yakris now, Cap, and I’m no Orithian gossip.”
Paiata’s new camaraderie with the dai Yakri steward might not yield much help, but the distraction was welcome.
My comm chirruped, and I glanced down.
“Kheh. This took its time.” My headspines flexed and rippled, and I shook them into order.
Paiata raised one of his brows. “What’s got you all excited, Cap?”
“Anandri finally got back to me with a job we can take. A valuable lot on Hydouis he needs transport for.”
My pilot leaned back in his chair, one big hand covering his face.
“Hey!” I shoved his shoulder. “Anandri’s operation is legitimate.”
“That’s not the point. Aren’t we making enough off this run without it?”
“That’s not the point, either.” The auction ship was a lucrative opportunity I’d be a fool to ignore. Of course, there were rumours the enterprise had connections with grey trade every now and then, but I trusted Anandri. Or rather, I trusted the amount of credits he offered and his reputation.
“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Now, tell me, what news from the dai Yakris?” Gods, now I sounded like an Orithian gossip.
Paiata took a long drink. “Didn’t you say Inupa dai Yakri is even more traditional than your mother? Why would she import two crates of flower bulbs from Coroupicai?”
A snort of laughter escaped all my nostrils at the same time I took a breath, and I let the resulting coughs subside before answering. “Probably because of that crate of Coroupican bulbs I left with Mother the other month.”
“Kheh.” He peered at his comm with a frown. “It’s mildly amusing, I suppose, but remind me why you care?”
I drew a finger and thumb down a headspine as I considered my answer. “So Mother can’t pull one of her stunts like last year.”
Paiata’s brow furrowed, and I sat back with my drink. “You mean when the other Orithian ship picked up those linens first? That was Marsyi’s doing?”
“That was Mother, yes.” I’d been furious. She’d deliberately sabotaged one of our family’s trades for her own petty games, and who did that ultimately reflect on? Me.
“Gods, I don’t know why you tolerate her.”
I yanked on the headspine between my fingers. “She and Father own the ship, Paiata. They own the cargo. They own the profit.” They own me.
Spots appeared in my vision, and I counted to seven. Inhale. Exhale.
When I opened my eyes, Paiata had the grace to look chastened. “Skyk. I forget. Sorry.”
It wasn’t new information to him, but like most kri’ith from Orkri, he struggled to comprehend quite how much control my family had, even after five years.
Probably because I didn’t make a habit of reminding him. Not for the first time, I cursed the gods I was born on Orith.
I turned to the humans’ table, ignoring anything else my pilot might ask. There were fewer than before, and they all argued—over what to do, no doubt. Two of the males were missing, but I’d seen one of them with the corsairs earlier, along with a shapely female. Not that I’d been looking.
I flexed my shoulder spines and hissed. Focus on the credits. It was all that mattered.