Right Hand of the Pirate Queen

15. DESSERT BEFORE DINNER

Lucianna paced the bridge, unable to keep herself busy. Faith had tried to distract her by talking about her new arms and data she had gathered from watching their tussle with Rivra, but Lucianna refused to sit through any of it. A horrible feeling had rooted itself in her chest, and she didn't know if it was her general dislike of Milo going out without her, or something to do with the strange bond they now shared. She exhaled through her nose.

Rivra remained by her side, though she opted to perform some push-ups in order to keep herself entertained. On Lucianna's seven hundred and eighty-eighth cycle around the bridge, Rivra cleared her throat.

"You know they'd radio in if something went wrong."

"They might. Or something could've gone horribly wrong and they can't! Oh, I should've gone with him!"

"Some of those shop keepers know us by name. With such massive bounties on our heads, I think Faith made the right call."

Lucianna wheeled on Rivra, her eyes wide.

"But what if something happens to Milo? He's not a fighter! Compared to us, he's a sitting target! Aren't you worried at all?"

Rivra rolled into a sitting lotus position and inhaled deeply. Watching her friend breathe calmly somehow eased Lucianna a bit.

"I am worried, Luci. But there's going to be times we can't help Milo. The universe is dangerous. I'd rather be by his side, too, but we can't baby him. Besides, hasn't this crew always been about being independent?"

"Yeah, and what does that have to do with anything?"

"How can you expect Milo to be independent if you smother him?"

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "Whatever!"

She plopped down into her captain's chair, slumping down so low she was more or less lying in the chair.

"It's just...I forced him into this. I don't want him to get hurt."

Faith's face appeared on the biggest monitor in the room, and she cleared her throat.

"Captain, I have an incoming transmission from Tereine."

"Patch them through."

"Oi, Captain! It's bad!"

Rivra turned her head toward the monitor, and Lucianna straightened, her features hardening. Her eyes simmered with a purple glow.

"What happened?"

***

Krol flipped through the Scrapette binder. He vividly remembered when he got his first copy of each card. While some prude customers would think his collection was perverted, he would argue that some civilizations possessed nude statues of exquisitely proportioned men and women alike. Yet preserving the beauty of women in card form was being perverted? He shook his head.

"There were few who understood."

He retrieved the letter and Scrapette card from his apron.

"Rivra..."

The anger boiled inside him as naturally as some creatures breathed. Having once been a race solely comprising war-mongering barbarians, some Scrapsters often found it difficult to shake their old ways. Especially when they faced memories that, even many years later, felt as fresh as a bleeding wound.

"That dumbass kid, taking my place. I should've let them put the bullets in my head. At least maybe he wouldn't have to suffer..."

The chime of the shop door made him jump. How had he not heard the customer approaching? Despite being a mechanic and blacksmith by trade, all Scrapsters possessed enhanced senses that put them a cut above most races. Krol's senses had always been a hair better than everyone else, meaning there were few who could sneak up on him. Krol snapped the binder shut.