"Team building," I snap at them. "I'm team building."
He rubs his ear, confused. "Of course, sir."
I pull my tunic back over my vest and strap my weapons to my belt. "Just go take care of business. Remember that the captain is mine."
59
STRAIK
It's a firefight the moment we step onto the enemy ship.
The crew looks to be made completely of scraps—szzt and praxiian mercs who aren't worth a damn with a blaster. I charge forward in calm, steady motions, my blaster held high as I shoot one after another. One praxiian rushes at me, only to be shot in the face. He crumples at my feet and I step over him, heading for the bridge. Whoever's running this shitshow will be there, and I want answers.
What kind of keffing monster poisons a helpless human, I wonder as another szzt rushes toward me. I break his arm and slam his face into the nearest wall and keep going. Monsters. I'm surrounded by monsters. I shake my head at the disgusted thought and step over a dead body. "Status report, Aithar," I call out. "How are we looking?"
"They're trying to boot the engine but the virus won't let them." His tone is gleeful as it rings in my ear, the comm-chip implanted there making him sound as if he's standing behind me. "I'll make sure they don't go anywhere."
"Do that," I say, stepping around Jerzec, who has one of the enemy pinned to the wall and is pounding him to a pulp. He's just venting some steam, I suspect. They all are. This crew isn't even a challenge. It's obvious whoever hired them didn't spend much. They're not good in a fight and their blasters are of a poor make that doesn't even come close to penetrating our armor.
I turn down another hall, heading for the bridge, and a male stands there, his blaster pointing at my head. His hand trembles, and he looks barely old enough to be an adult szzt, his orange skin missing the textured appearance of the older ones. Truly? I'm going to have to kill a juvenile? I ignore the blaster he's aiming at me and point mine at him. "I will count to four, and if you're smart, you'll drop your weapon and climb into the nearest escape pod."
The male swallows.
"One," I say warningly.
He flings the blaster to the floor and races down the hall. I kick it aside and keep going, heading for the bridge. I'm glad he didn't fire—Ruth wouldn't like the singed smell of my clothing, and what Ruth likes and dislikes is becoming increasingly important to me. I sweep down the hall, doing my best to look menacing in case I come across anyone else. Get the slithering scum-snake who's accepted the bounty contract, haul the ship to the nearest scrapper, and set a trap for anyone else that might be coming after us. And take care of Ruth. Make sure she's safe and content and fed.
I arrive at the bridge, and of course the door is sealed against intruders, the control panel flashing an alert. Locked. I consider the panel. If we're not going back to the Star right away, I should also show Ruth how to get around comfortably on my ship. She knows some of the buttons, but she'll need to learn more commands so she doesn't get trapped somewhere. I lift the blaster in my hand—I should show her how to use a blaster, too—and fire at the panel. It smokes, lighting up in red, and I smash my fist through it and pull at the delicate wiring underneath. That done, I holster my blaster and manually pry the door open a nudge.
"I'll shoot if you come any closer," calls out a voice. Male. Mesakkah tongue, but the accent isn't Homeworld. Probably one of the outlying slum stations.
"You're coming with me," I call out, pulling my blaster back out of its holster and flashing it at the crack in the door. "You took a bounty for me. Well, you've got me."
"Nothing personal," the man calls back from the other side of the door. "It's just a job. A bounty."
Nothing personal? He made it personal when he poisoned Ruth. I tuck my blaster under one arm and tug at the door again, opening it wider.
A blaster bolt whizzes just past my cheek, singeing it and leaving a burning mark in its wake. I jerk to the side, pressing against the door, and growl. I'm beyond pissed at this point. "I am trying to be reasonable," I snarl at the bounty hunter on the other side. "And you're just determined to get my female angry at me, aren't you?"
"What female?" The voice is thick and rusty.
"The one you tried to murder, you keffing piece of slag," I bite back at him. "And now I'm going to destroy your crew and take your ship in retaliation."