CHAPTER 16

March doesn’t come to me this evening.

I tell myself he’s working, and it has nothing to do with my refusal to let him veer off from our mission to go looking for his nephew. In this, I’m playing the bad guy, and I don’t like it. My heart is heavy, and sleep brings unquiet dreams. I can’t remember what they were, but I know I was running from something.

The space is cool and empty when I wake.

After breakfast, I check in with the kids we saved. It doesn’t seem fair for Rose to be stuck on nanny detail, though when I step into the dormitory, she doesn’t seem to mind. Seven small faces turn my way, as I’ve interrupted a story.

I wave to show she should continue, so she does. I sit down at the back of the dorm. It’s some legend I’ve never heard before, so I listen with as much interest as the children.

“Then Pyotr jabbed the pin into the giant’s foot. The beast cried out in pain and hopped around, but what the giant didn’t realize was—” She looks at the kids as if inviting them to guess.

“He was standing in front of a big hole!”

“There was a warrior behind him with a sword.”

“He was at the edge of a volcano!”

They vie for her attention and her smiles for a good five minutes. By the time Rose finishes the tale of Pyotr and the Giant, they’re cheering wildly. From their reactions, I gather there have been more tales about this particular hero prior to today.

When the kids notice me at the back of the room, they go from exuberant to timid, then a girl recognizes me. “You were with the people who took us off the bad ship.”

I nod. “How are you guys doing?”

Her pointed chin dips. “I want to go home.”

“I know. As soon as we can locate your parents, we’ll take you.”

A little boy gazes up at me, eyes wide. “So you’re not going to sell us?”

“Sell you . . . No, of course not.” Mary curse it, he must’ve heard the slavers talking. “Did you hear something on the bad ship?”

He nods. “They were talking about the people who ordered us.”

The kids cluster around me, as if I can protect them. And I will. Nobody’s going to hurt them while I’m around.

“What do you mean?”

The oldest child with heartbreakingly knowing eyes—she’s ten, at most—answers, “They had buyers who wanted certain things: blond hair, green eyes, or . . . whatever. The slavers took us because we matched the descriptions.”

I don’t need to be told why. Now I’m twice as glad we killed those bastards. They stole these kids because they matched the requests made in some pervert catalogue. I don’t doubt there are serious credits in it. A rich client with no moral compass would be willing to pay outrageous amounts for a perfect little toy.

Rose says softly, “You’re safe, Hanna. Don’t think about that now.”

Good advice, but simply telling the monsters to back off doesn’t always work.

The smallest kid sniffs. “They made us talk on the vid.”

A virtual marketplace—horror roils in my stomach. “Is that all?”

“They kept us locked up, too,” he answers.

Relief trickles in. It could’ve been much worse, but I don’t tell them that. If they have any illusions left after this, I’ll do my best to preserve them.

“Has someone taken down all your personal information?” Rose should have by now, but I double-check.

Hanna nods. “But some of the little kids didn’t know much before they were taken, and we were on that ship for weeks.”

So likely, the slavers were waiting for all buyers to approve their wares and agree to a certain rendezvous point to finalize the transactions. They might’ve been hanging around that sector for a while. By the time we arrived, our ship probably looked like it was Mary-sent for entertainment purposes.

“We’ve uploaded your pictures to the databases. If your parents have reported you missing, there will be a match, sooner or later.” I smile in what I hope is a reassuring manner. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you home.”

“Will Rose take care of us the whole time?” Hanna asks.

They know her. They trust her. So I can understand the question, but I have to be honest. “When we ship out, she’ll come with us. But you’ll stay on station, where it’s safe.”

A couple of lower lips start to tremble and Rose cuts me a sharp look. Hm, maybe I’m not the best person to deal with this. I thought it best to be straight with these kids, who probably have a bullshit detector after all they’ve been through. I don’t want them to think we’re just jerking them around, same as the slavers.

“I’ll make sure you like whoever takes my place,” she reassures them.

“You mean we get to pick?” Hanna seems to be the spokesperson for the group.

I can field that one. “Sure. We’ll give you first choice of all hands remaining on station just before we ship out.”

“I guess that’d be okay,” Hanna says grudgingly. “But how long do you think that will be?”

I shrug. “Whenever we wrap up our business.”

There’s no way I can be more specific. I don’t know how long the training and recruitment phase will take. That’s up to March and the Conglomerate.

Rose pushes to her feet, running a hand through already tousled red-and-silver hair. “It’s time for lessons now. Constance will be waiting for you in conference room one.”

I must admit, I admire the smooth way she’s organized them. They file out for their makeshift schooling. She must have some experience with children.

Apparently interpreting my look, she says, “Before the McCulloughs attacked, I was a teacher on Lachion.”

Not Doc’s medical assistant then. That was a wartime role, not her choice.

“You’re good with them.”

“You’re not. They’ve been through enough—they didn’t need to think about my leaving them right now. No matter how mature they seem, they’re not adults, and you can’t treat them as such. Don’t spring news on them without running it past me first, please.” That “please” is only meant to soften the order, not take the teeth from it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Obviously not,” she snaps.

I hold up both hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, we’re on the same side here.”

“That may be, but I don’t come to the cockpit and tell you how to jump, do I?”

I restrain my annoyance. She hasn’t liked me since we first met on Lachion, so I suspect she’s overreacting to my visit. Anybody else would likely receive a more civil response. However, I can’t argue that I upset the kids, at least a little bit, even if I didn’t mean to, and I can’t argue that results matter more than intentions.

“Sorry. I thought you might need a hand with them; but I can see you have things under control here, and I won’t interfere again.”

At that she relents a bit. “I’m a little overprotective of them, I guess.”

“It’s understandable. Let me know if you need anything?”

“Of course.” Rose hesitates and then explains, “I’ve found it’s imperative for them to have a sense of continuity. It eases the trauma if their routine is consistent and reliable.”

“Are you saying you’d rather stay here on station with them?”

I don’t blame her if she does. She wasn’t raised on starships. She doesn’t have the love of space travel pulsing in her veins.

Rose considers for several long moments. Many women have a strong maternal instinct, and it seems Rose is no exception. Mary, Doc will not be happy with me if I’m the reason his woman deserts him. But hopefully he’ll understand.

She finally shakes her head. “No, I want to stay with Doc on the Triumph. If I don’t, it makes leaving Lachion rather pointless.”

Since you left because of him.

I nod. “Do you ever wish you hadn’t?”

Her face is tired, new shadows beneath her eyes. Since we’ve been gone, she’s aged, unaccustomed to the stresses we call normal. “Sometimes. There were a lot of gaps in our turns together, time he spent off world, and I wasn’t part of it. I thought if I went with him, it would help me understand him.”

“Did it work?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I don’t find him any easier to access out here.”

There’s not a lot I can say to that, as we’re not friends or confidantes. So I merely nod and excuse myself.

As the weeks pass, and word gets out about Hon enlisting, more ships arrive. The first to join us is a sleek pirate vessel called the Dark Tide. Its crew seems none too thrilled, but they’d follow their captain anywhere. Finnegan wears a scar across his left eye socket, and no patch to cover it. His smile is infectious, and he has a booming voice.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” he announces, after we sign the contracts. “Me, fighting for the establishment.”

Hon grins. “Know what you mean. But some deals are too sweet to pass up.”

Soon, more follow. A few vessels leave without signing on, and we let them go. But most take the offer of pardon and limitless Conglomerate-sanctioned booty. We may get a few who still hit freighters, but we’ll deal with the transgressions as they happen. For now, at least we have bodies to fight and the start of a militia.

Between the two of us—with Constance’s help—March and I organize the classes. There’s so much to cover in a short time: ship-to-ship fighting, tactics, personal combat, weapons training, and more. And each ship needs a trained medic. Most pirate vessels don’t bother with a full complement of crew; they just take whoever’s handy and hardy and figure they can replace personnel easier than they can heal them. We can’t treat our soldiers as that expendable. People die in war, but that doesn’t mean we won’t try to save them.

One month after Hon’s arrival, the station hums with activity. Cadets head down the halls to various conference rooms, now converted to classrooms. It’s funny to see hardened smugglers and pirates taking classes on how to obey orders. That’s a simplification, but essentially what we’re doing here. Tarn is sending men, too, as his New Terran recruitment campaign takes off, and he’s spending seized Farwan assets on ships and equipment.

Such things take time.