Aberrant

Chapter 48

The Fire Witch fell eerily silent as she reached speed and her rear thrusters shut off. Jinx twisted her wrists in the plastic ties shackling her to her jumpseat and scanned the data on the windshield's HUD. Tras, in the seat in front of her, was correcting course specs. He'd set their speed at low warp. They couldn't be going far.

She'd know her fate soon enough.

She doubted it would be good.

She cut a grim look over the three men seated around her. Tras had been dangerously silent since dragging her on board. His ugly, mech-eyed first mate, Dorf, sat in a rear jumpseat, his body vibrating like a dog's straining at its leash. And in the seat next to her, the arsehole who'd briefly been known as Officer Ames straightened and scowled at the HUD. He'd since introduced himself as Reihnald Syrus, bounty hunter—speciality: "Anything that got him fucking paid."

As for Tras' other crewmates, Ike's red lizard hide and Konnu Phang's punk arse were nowhere to be seen.

Their absence added an extra layer of lead to Jinx's gut.

Beside her, Syrus unfastened his seat harness and leaned forward to eyeball Tras in the pilot seat. "You fucking lost, trader? We agreed to part ways on Turni. Those aren't the right coordinates."

Tras glanced back at the man—and shot him point blank with a micro shock pistol. The bounty hunter jerked then fell forward in a heap on the deck.

Jinx caught Tras' stare. Pure ice.

Ignoring the punch of her pulse, she kicked Syrus off her boots. "If I ask what the hell is going on, will I get volt-punched in the face as well?"

Tras eyed her a few hard heartbeats then turned back to his ship's controls. "Dorf, give the man his payment. Void drop crate. Aft airlock. If he doesn't fit, cut something off."

Dorf grunted and dragged the unconscious bounty hunter off the bridge.

Jinx felt both her jaw and stomach drop. "You can't eject someone into space in a frigging smuggler's box!" She booted Tras' seat. "You want the bastard dead, just shoot him!" Even if the unit was radiation shielded and set to maintain its cargo at a survivable temperature, oxygen would rapidly become an issue.

"Just following his employer's job termination instructions, pu'ta, though a crate wasn't specified."

Jinx stared at the back of Tras' head, her heart pounding. "Tras, what the hell are you doing working for someone who pays people by throwing them out airlocks? And what does any of this have to do with me?" She'd been finessed off the Silver Dawn—a goddamn military base ship. She didn't even want to think about the influence and credits that would've taken. But one thing was for sure: Kaplan hadn't organised this hell ride.

Tras tapped an icon on his console. A vid-coms window opened on the HUD. "Quarter of an hour before Syrus approached me for transport, I received this vid message." He leaned back in his seat, settling in for the show. "You should find it interesting."

The audio started with a hiss of static. The vid image stayed dark, but... Jinx's heart jolted. The darkness wasn't total. Dim light glinted off damp, roughly textured resin plex.

The inside of a Xykeree vessel.

Dread solidified in her gut.

The camera moved in. A pale face emerged from the gloom.

Jinx jerked against her restraints, a bubble of horror jamming her windpipe.

Soh's terrified face filled the screen. Blood darkened her blonde hair at one temple.