Page 10 of Savage Union (Brutal Universe #2)

9

JESSINA

I followed Snuffy to the hole in the floor at the far end of the bridge and climbed down after him as he skittered quickly down the rungs of the ladder set inside the tube.

Gurflug came right after me—which I soon had cause to regret. The minute we were both in the Gensen’s tube, he let loose with a blast of the most noxious smelling gas I’d ever been subjected to.

Goddess! I nearly gagged and began climbing down quicker, trying to hold my breath so I didn’t inhale the toxic fumes. Luckily, Snuffy was even faster than I was. He was already at the bottom.

“Right this way—right this way!” he exclaimed, his long nose wiggling. Then he frowned. “Was that you, navvie?”

“No, absolutely not.” I nodded at Gurflug, who was laboriously making his way out of the tube, and made a face.

“Ah, I thought so, I thought so.” Snuffy nodded. “Galafruxians always get the wind in their bellies, so they do! I don’t envy you at all—no I don’t. No I do not.”

I would have been charmed by his way of repeating things if his words didn’t alarm me so much.

“Er, what do you mean?” I asked, frowning.

“Why, it’s you that has to bunk with him, navvie. So it is, so it is,” he emphasized.

“But—don’t we have separate quarters? I mean the navigator isn’t part of the main crew, right?” I protested. “They’re like one of the ship’s officers so surely that must warrant a private bunk.” I had been counting on that as part of my plan from the very beginning.

“Ah, the navigators’ quarters are separate from the rest of the crew, all right—a fact I’m sure the crew will appreciate when they see that mountain of stench,” Snuffy wiggled his long nose at Gurflug, who—having finally exited the tube completely—was making his way down the narrow corridor towards us.

“So you’re saying I have to share a room—er, share my quarters—with him?” I demanded in a low voice.

Snuffy shrugged.

“All part of ship’s life, so it is, so it is. You’re lucky to have a semi-private room, navvie. You’re too pretty by half to bunk with the rest of the crew,” he remarked.

“Pretty?” I put a hand to my face reflexively—I had thought I at least looked masculine. But I didn’t have time to worry—by that time Gurflug had finally caught up with us—and so had his stench. Goddess of the Four Faces, he smelled like low tide on the banks of the Rotten Sea! And I was sharing a room with him.

“Come this way— this way,” Snuffy told us. He led us down a narrow white corridor, leaping nimbly over the pipes and tubing and the other machinery of the ship that encroached on the available space.

The thing about the inside of the Illyrian was that it seemed like every spare inch and surface was out to hurt you. There was nothing soft or pretty or comforting about her interior at all—it was stark and white and filled with obstacles that hurt when you bumped your shin on them.

I was able to dodge around the protruding machinery pretty well, but I could hear Gurflug cursing as he knocked into things behind me. Why would he want to take a job in a vessel that was so obviously too small for his massive frame?

Probably for the twenty thousand credits, I thought, dodging another protruding pipe. Most people would do anything for that kind of money.

We passed the mess hall—it had metal tables that were magnetized to the floor and had gaming boards etched into them. The better to while away the empty hours when traveling between planets that weren’t close enough to a worm hole, I guessed. Beside the hall was the galley where the food was made. A perfectly indescribable smell was coming from the window—I honestly couldn’t decide if it made me hungry or nauseous.

Snuffy stopped momentarily, putting his head through the broad open window that separated the galley from the mess hall.

“Hey, Cookie!” he squeaked. “Poke your head out—meet our two new navvies!”

“ Two navvies?”

A male who was at least half Brute came to the window to stare at me and Gurflug. His skin was a pale gray and his hair was bright orange. His horns were painted dull gray, which meant he held a low rank in his Clan. He was wearing the standard uniform of black pants and a black shirt with white collar and cuffs but he had the cuffs rolled up to his elbows and the shirt open to show a hairy chest.

“Why are there two of you?” he demanded, as if we should know.

“Well—” I began.

“Captain Turk wants me to train this young pup,” Gurflug said, before I could get anything else out. “Don’t worry— I’ll be the one plotting our jumps—not him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing yet,” he added, giving me a condescending look.

I was flooded with frustration and anger, but the cook only nodded.

“Yeah, well—gotta get back to my greasestain ,” he remarked. “It’ll burn if I don’t stir it.”

“Wait!” Gurflug said quickly. “My good man, I wonder if you’ve ever heard of Galafruxian slime stew? I’m only asking because it’s so very nutritious and delicious—I’m sure the rest of the crew would just love it. So if you could possibly add it to the menu?—”

“No,” the cook said flatly.

Gurflug opened his bulging purple eyes very wide in apparent surprise.

“Excuse me?” he asked, sounding astonished. “But my good man, I am your new ship’s navigator! It’s tradition aboard most ships for the navigator to be given a say in the menu.”

“The Illyrian ain’t ‘most ships.’ And looks to me like you ain’t the only navigator,” the cook said coolly. “Now ‘scuse me—gotta stir the greasestain.”

He disappeared back into the galley again, leaving Gurflug scowling.

“You!” He rounded on me, glaring. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have my slime stew any time I wanted it! A ship’s crew reveres their navigator but you’ve brought the worth of the position down just by being here!”

“I have as much right to be here as you!” I snapped. “Turk hired us both and anyway, I’m the better navigator.”

“Oh, Turk is it? So you and the captain are on a first name basis?” Gurflug raised his greasy eyebrows—which looked like they had mold growing in them.

“I have to agree with the Galafruxian, lad,” Snuffy said, frowning. It’s an offense not to give the Captain his due deference. So it is. So it is. Best call him by his title. ”

His words stopped me cold. Damn it—I needed to be careful how I referred to my Fated Mate! I was used to just calling him by his first name because that was how Slade addressed him. But that wouldn’t fly aboard The Illyrian.

“I’m sorry,” I said, speaking to Snuffy, not Gurflug. “I…I got angry and I misspoke.”

“Very well.” He nodded, his long nose twitching. “See that it doesn’t happen again. Now come on, the two of you! I’ve still got to get you uniforms and show you your bunk before we lift off.”

We left the mess hall and the galley behind and Snuffy led us down another narrow corridor to a small door marked ship’s supplies. He ducked inside for a moment and I heard him muttering to himself.

“One extra-extra-extra large and one extra small. Let’s see now, do we have them? Do we? Do we?”

A moment later he emerged holding two uniforms on hangers. He handed the much larger one—which looked as big as a large bed coverlet—to Gurflug and the smaller one to me.

“Here you are—keep ‘em neat. You only get one chance a week at the steam-cleaner so you have to be careful,” Snuffy told us. Then he asked our shoe sizes.

“Forty,” Gurflug replied at once, but it wasn’t so easy for me. I had grown up wearing women’s shoe sizes, of course—which were quite different from men’s. Even the shoes I had on at the moment that went with my “man disguise” were women’s—they were just very plain and had no heel.

“Now then, now then—surely you know your shoe size?” Snuffy asked, frowning at me.

“Er, I mean—” I began, wondering if I should just guess.

“I’d say you’re a seven. Maybe a seven and a half,” Snuffy said, his nose twitching as he studied my feet.

“Yes, that’s right,” I said, hoping it was.

“Very good. Very good.” He ducked back into the room and reappeared in a moment with two pairs of black boots. One pair was enormous—he gave those to Gurflug. The other looked like my size and he handed them to me.

“Thank you.” I nodded as I took them.

“Now then—let’s go. Let us go,” Snuffy said. “This way to your quarters.”

He led us down the corridor again. I was concentrating on keeping up with him but then we passed an open door into an area that made me stop in my tracks.

It was a large, tiled room with multiple water nozzles sticking out of the walls at intervals. I counted ten of them in all. There was a silver drain in the middle of the floor and soap dispensers mounted on the walls.

“Hey now, lad—why did you stop? Why?” Snuffy asked, frowning over his shoulder at me. “Have you never seen a communal shower before?”

“So those are the showers?” I tried to keep my voice level but the tiled room looked like a nightmare waiting to happen.

“So they are, so they are!” Snuffy said, nodding. “Every night an hour before lights out we’re all down here getting nice and clean.” He shot a glance at Gurflug as he spoke. “Captain’s orders, don’t you know,” he added. “Nobody’s allowed to be smelly when we all live together so close-like. No they aren’t. No, they are not.”

“And…nobody’s ever excused?” I asked, feeling faint.

“Nobody. No-bo-dy,” Snuffy emphasized, still looking at Gurflug. “The Captain showers his own self too, you know—just in his own private shower, is all,” he added. “The Illyrian is fitted with the finest water recyclers so we never have to worry about running out of water—even in deep space, don’t you know.”

“Uh, that’s nice,” I said weakly. Somehow I was just going to have to endure this. I would have to get in and get out as fast as I could and hope that nobody messed with me. But the idea of being naked and wet in a roomful of strange males was enough to make my skin crawl, even with the Synth in my arm providing cover. All it would take for me to be exposed was to brush against someone the wrong way. If they felt my breasts…

“Come now, lad—we’re running behind. So we are. So we are!” Snuffy exclaimed. “Let’s hurry now—we’re almost to your cabin.”

We followed him again and I saw a door labeled, “Crew Quarters” up ahead on the right. As we came up to it, the plain white metal door slid open and a male who was obviously full-blooded Brute came out. He was tall and thin and he was wearing the standard uniform but with silver braid on his shoulders. I also noted that he had silver horns—a sign of a high-ranking officer in a Brutal Clan family. He stared at us with yellow eyes and an arrogant look on his narrow face.

“Well, well, Snuffy—I’ve finished with the pre-flight crew inspection. Now who are these two rejects from a Frothian dumpster?” he asked, sneering at me and Gurflug.

“Two new navvies, Frux. So they are. So they are,” Snuffy said, nodding at us.

“What? Two? Who said we needed two?” the male whose name was Frux demanded.

Snuffy shrugged his narrow shoulders.

“Captain Turk said. He hired ‘em both.”

“But why does a ship need two navigators? This is ridiculous—what the Hell does Turk think he’s doing? I’m going to talk to the Clan Chief about this!” Frux exclaimed importantly.

“Better hurry if you want to make a call—we’re lifting off soon. So we are. So we are,” Snuffy said neutrally, but I got the feeling he didn’t much like Frux, who seemed like an entitled ass.

“My good man, I assure you…” Gurflug burbled, putting out a hand to Frux, but I wasn’t about to let him get the jump on me again.

“Captain Turk hired me to navigate because I have no blind spots,” I said quickly.

Frux turned his yellow gaze on me and raised one eyebrow disdainfully.

“No blind spots? Is that right?”

“The boy lies,” Gurflug burbled. “Of course he has blind spots—all navigators do.”

“You might,” I said crisply. “I don’t.”

Gurflug’s face went dark.

“Why, you little snot. You?— ”

“Enough!” Frux raised a hand. “I’ll speak to Turk myself. After I speak to the Chief of Clan Savage.”

“I don’t think Captain Turk will be very happy with you second guessing him, Frux. Even if you are the Union Rep. No I don’t. No I do not,” Snuffy said, his nose wiggling.

Frux sniffed.

“You don’t worry about me, cabin boy. Just go about your business. I’ll straighten things out.”

He started to move down the corridor, but of course we were in the way. He squeezed past me and Snuffy, but there was no getting around Gurflug.

“Make way, can’t you?” he demanded, glaring up at the Galafruxian. “Ugh—you stink!”

Gurflug frowned.

“My aroma is part of my cultural heritage. As a Galafruxian?—”

“Just get out of the damned way!” Frux demanded.

Gurflug was forced to back down the corridor—he was too big to turn around—until he got back to the mess hall with Frux berating him all the way. I had no doubt this was going to somehow be my fault in Gurflug’s mind too, but I couldn’t deny that I got satisfaction from watching the scene.

The noise must have drawn attention because several of the other Crew members—most of them at least half Brute, to judge from their horns—came out of the Crew Quarters to see what all the commotion was about.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” one of them—a huge, beefy Brute whose horns were painted dark green asked. His uniform shirt was rumpled and open to the waist, showing a chest so hairy it looked like he had a pelt.

“Hello, Jerx,” Snuffy said. “Frux is trying to get past one of our new navvies. Yes he is. Yes he is. This is the other one,” he added, nodding at me.

“My name is Cass, ship’s navigator,” I said, sticking out my hand in what I hoped was a manly gesture.

Instead of taking my hand, the beefy Brute named Jerx looked me up and down. His black eyes went half-lidded in a way that made me feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“Well, ain’t you a pretty little thing?” he said, grinning at me. “Catamite, are you?” This brought a burst of trollish laughter from the other Brutes around him.

“Excuse me, what did you just call me?” I asked, frowning. What the hell was a “Catamite?” I was afraid to ask.

“ Now I see why the Captain hired two of you,” Jerx remarked, ignoring my question. “One to navigate and one to service the crew. Mighty fuckin’ nice of him. The long nights do get real lonely when we’re between planets and ain’t got no female company.”

More laughter from the other Brutes but in the meantime, I was feeling worse and worse about the situation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice from trembling. “I was hired for Cross Dimensional Navigation only.”

“Yeah, right.” Jerx gave me a predatory grin. “See you later, Catamite.”

He disappeared back into the Crew Quarters along with the other crew members, leaving me and Snuffy alone. Down the corridor, Frux had finally gotten past Gurflug and now the bulky Galafruxian was making his laborious way back to us.

“What’s a Catamite—do you know?” I asked Snuffy quickly, before he could get to us.

The Illyrian’s cabin boy shook his head, his long nose twitching.

“I was afraid of this. Don’t know why the Captain thought it was a good idea to hire someone so young and pretty with this rough bunch around. I’m afraid you’ll have to watch your backside if you don’t want to get drilled, navvie,” he said to me.

“But what’s a—” I began again, but just then Gurflug finally reached us and Snuffy continued on down the corridor, leaving me with questions that had no answers.

We finally got to a door marked “Navigator’s Quarters” and Snuffy opened it with a flourish.

“Here’s your bunks, boys,” he said, nodding at me and Gurflug. “Get your uniforms on quick-like and come back to the bridge on the double. On the double.”

Since I was standing just inside the door with him, I could see the layout of the room and what I saw made my heart sink.

The Navigator’s quarters were tiny— smaller than the smallest guest bathroom in my father’s house . There was a double bunkbed pushed against one wall and then a narrow area beside it where you could stand to get dressed and that was it. There wasn’t even a storage area for clothes—just a lot of hooks on the opposite wall, presumably for hanging our uniforms at night and our pajamas during the day.

It occurred to me that the pajamas I had brought with me in my single carry-all bag were covered in pink flower buds and more than a little girly. Was that going to be a problem?

Everything was going to be a problem, I had to acknowledge to myself. From sharing a bunk with Gurflug to taking communal showers with males who thought I was “pretty,” life aboard The Illyrian wasn’t going to be easy.

Should I go, I wondered? Should I leave right now before we got underway and just try to hide out somewhere on the streets of Rigelis Nine? But no—my father’s men were sure to find me. And then I’d be stuck getting Bound to Grr. Malofice and being miserable the rest of my life. I would just have to tough it out somehow.

My resolve was immediately shaken when Gurflug shoved past me and claimed the top bunk.

“Hey, that doesn’t make sense!” I protested, as he heaved his bulk up into the narrow berth. “You’d fit much better in the bottom—you’re too heavy to be on top!”

“As the Head Navigator, I get first choice of bunks,” he sneered at me. “And don’t you forget it, pup!”

“You’re not the Head Navigator!” I protested. “The Captain hired us both equally.”

“Then why am I getting double your pay? Because I have more seniority and experience—which makes me the senior officer.” He settled into the bunk and let out a huge blast of flatulence that made me wince and step back with my hand over my nose.

I eyed the bottom bunk ruefully. I didn’t feel like it was safe to sleep there. Already I could see the mattress springs of the top bunk sagging ominously. What if they gave way and Gurflug fell through on top of me? Or what if the entire top bunk just collapsed? Either way, I would be crushed.

“You can fight about bunks later. Right now get dressed. The Captain is waiting for you. Yes he is. Yes he is,” Snuffy told us.

Then he skittered away, leaving me alone with Gurflug and a single thought in my mind…

Oh Goddess—I don’t know if I can handle this!

But it seemed like I didn’t have a choice.