Page 14 of Savage Union (Brutal Universe #2)

13

TURK

I frowned as I surveyed my two new navigators. Both of them were in bad shape…but in different ways.

Gurflug looked dirty and disheveled in a way that was completely unacceptable. His uniform was stained and crumpled, as though he’d taken it off and thrown it on the ground the night before instead of hanging it neatly. His skin was still covered in slime and his hair was lank and greasy. Hadn’t I made myself clear about the mandatory shower time? It didn’t look like he was any cleaner than he had been when I’d hired him the day before. In fact, if anything he looked fucking worse .

Cass was a different story. His uniform was neat and clean but his amber eyes were bloodshot and there were dark smudges under his eyes like bruises. I knew from talking to Snuffy the day before that he’d had worm hole sickness—which was a problem for a navigator, since lots of holes have time dilations. I had some medication I thought might help him, but I wanted to deal with Gurflug first.

“Navigator Gurflug, come here,” I said to him, rising from my chair and nodding at my Ready Room, just off the main bridge.

He shot me a narrow-eyed glance but rose from the navigator’s chair, which he had pushed Cass out of earlier. The boy was really going to have to learn to defend himself or he wasn’t going to make it, I thought grimly.

I kept a rough crew aboard The Illyrian—you can’t have a bunch of pacifists on board when you’re a smuggling ship. Besides, there are plenty of dangers out in open space. I’ve had to fight my way out of bad situations before and I need males behind me that can get my back. So my crew isn’t exactly the nicest bunch.

I did try to make sure they were presentable though—which fucking Gurflug absolutely was not.

“Navigator Cass, take the chair and plot our next jump,” I said. I threw the boy my clean-all rag as I spoke so he could wipe off the nav band. That alone was a reason Gurflug needed to shower—he was getting the expensive navigation equipment all greasy and slimy. I didn’t have room in my budget this run to replace the delicate nav band if it got clogged up and ruined.

I stepped into my ready room with Gurflug and waited until the door slid shut behind us. A good leader praises in public and corrects in private—in this case, there was a lot to correct.

The minute we were in an enclosed space together, I noticed his odor all over again. Goddess above, the male smelled rancid! I had to fight not to cover my nose with my hand.

“Yes, Captain? You wanted to see me?” he burbled.

“Exactly—I wanted to see you— not smell you,” I said, getting right to the point. “There have been some complaints about your odor, Gurflug.”

He flushed, a muddy brown color rising to his greenish cheeks.

“Has that little snot been talking about me behind my back?”

“If you mean Cass, no. He hasn’t said anything to me,” I said. “Several other crew members have though—mainly those that have to sit by you in the mess hall. I thought I made it clear about the mandatory shower time we have aboard The Illyrian.”

“I attended the shower time,” he protested. “I was there in the shower room—ask anyone!”

“You don’t look or smell like you showered,” I pointed out. “And your uniform is a disgrace. Why is it crumpled and stained already when you just got it yesterday?” I nodded at what looked like spilled juice on his shirt and the smears of dark purple tilberry jam on his white cuffs.

Gurflug’s face grew darker.

“That’s not my fault! It’s too crowded in the mess hall! Someone spilled juice on me.”

“And I suppose that same person dragged your cuffs through the food on your tray and got crumbs all over your shirt too?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“They—” he began, but I was sick of his excuses.

“I’m going to order you to leave the bridge right now and throw your uniform in the steam-cleaner at once,” I told him. “And tonight you’ll take a proper shower and actually get clean .”

“But I am clean—as clean as a Galafruxian is meant to be. Our slime?—”

“Is not welcome aboard my ship and especially not all over The Illyrian’s navigation equipment,” I finished for him crisply. “Now go get your uniform cleaned.”

Gurflug’s eyes bulged angrily.

“Excuse me, Captain, but that shouldn’t be my job.”

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

“It shouldn’t be your job to keep yourself clean?”

“I’m talking about my uniform,” Gurflug protested. “On other ships I’ve worked on, the navigator’s uniform is cleaned for him every night. Why not have the cabin boy do it?”

“Snuffy has a lot of responsibilities but keeping track of your uniform is not one of them,” I told him.

“It should be,” Gurflug argued. “And another thing—the cook—Cookie, I believe his name is—has outright refused my menu request for Galafruxian slime stew.”

I couldn’t fucking believe his entitlement. I wanted to bare my fangs but I held myself back.

“So now you’re asking the cook to make you a whole separate menu?”

“Not at all—I’m sure the rest of the crew would enjoy it as well. It’s extremely delicious and nutritious,” he said loftily. “I have the recipe which I’ll be happy to provide to him as soon as you have a talk with him.”

“I’m not asking Cookie to make something special just for you,” I growled. At this point I was barely holding on to my temper. I’d always heard that Galafruxians could be prima donnas but this was getting completely out of hand!

“This is ridiculous!” Gurflug exclaimed. “ I am the navigator aboard this ship. Without me, you’re not going anywhere!”

“So you think that means the entire crew should cater to your every whim, is that it?” I asked, keeping my temper in check by the thinnest of margins.

“Well…yes.” He nodded firmly. “The ship’s navigator is arguably the most important crew member on board.”

“You’re forgetting that you’re not the only navigator I hired for this mission, Gurflug,” I told him.

“Yes, but I’m the only one who counts!” he snapped. “That pup you hired is useless! Why, he gets worm hole sickness! He threw up all over one of the other crew members at dinner last night!”

“I heard all about it, but I’m not talking about Cass—I’m talking about you,” I told him. “Go get yourself cleaned up and don’t ever come back up to my bridge looking and smelling like you do right now. Do I make myself clear?”

“But—”

“ Do I make myself clear, Navigator?” I growled, allowing my voice to dip menacingly low. “We have a brig aboard The Illyrian, you know,” I added. “Let me know if you’d rather cool your heels in there than the navigators’ bunk.”

Gurflug gave me a furious look but it was clear he’d finally taken my words to heart.

“No, Sir,” he said coldly. “I would not.”

“Good. Then get off my bridge and don’t come back until you look presentable,” I told him.

Gurflug turned to go but before leaving the ready room, he just had to say one more thing.

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” he said, his hand on the door control. “I’ll speak to the Union Rep—I know you have one on board.”

“Good luck with that, since you’re not part of Clan Savage,” I told him. “Have fun explaining that you’re being mistreated because you have to clean your own uniform and the cook won’t make you special meals like the pretty little princess you apparently think you are.”

His purple eyes bulged.

“I am n o t receiving the respect I am due as the Head Navigator of this vessel!” he spat.

I pointed a finger at him.

“You’re not the ‘Head Navigator’—you’re not even the only navigator. Which means we don’t have to cater to your fucking whims.”

Gurflug opened his mouth to protest again but I cut him off.

“This discussion is over. If you say one more word— one more word— you’ll be spending tonight in the brig.”

Gurflug looked like he wanted to test me…but in the end he didn’t dare. With a last, furious glance over his beefy shoulder, he left my ready room and stalked to the Gensen’s tube to exit the bridge.

I watched him go with an impassive look on my face, but inside I was fucking angry. I was sure he would make good on his threat to complain to the Union Rep—which was Frux, of course.

Fucking Frux would love another grievance to bring against me to the Chief. It would ultimately go nowhere, but it would be a pain in my ass just the same. What a fucking mess.

At least I still had the boy to fall back on, I thought, watching Cass at the navigator’s station. Despite his bloodshot eyes and tired appearance, he was plotting our next series of jumps effortlessly and quickly.

Still, a navigator with worm hole sickness was no joke. I needed to give him the medication I had for it before we jumped again, and we were close to the next worm hole now.

But though I knew I should call him into my Ready Room at once, I hesitated as I watched him work. What was it about him that drew me so strongly? I kept feeling like he reminded me of someone—someone dear to me.

Jessina, I thought. My best friend’s little sister had smooth, light brown skin and pale amber eyes. It occurred to me that this boy, Cass, looked a lot like her. He could have been her brother, in fact.

Except, I knew her brother. Slade looked like a pure-bred Brute—like me. He had pearly gray skin and horns just like I did. Jessina only had brown skin tones because their mother had been Yerbishian. I wondered if Cass was Yerbishian, but it didn’t really matter. I was just glad that I’d placed the reason why I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

He reminds me of Jess—of my little bird, I thought and felt a surge of anxiety for her. I wondered if Slade had found her. I hoped she was all right—the idea of her out there wandering about Rigelis Nine with no one to protect her from predators was fucking terrible. I knew firsthand what bastards most males could be and Jessina was so beautiful…so tempting…

I realized I was still staring at Cass as I had these thoughts and pushed them quickly away. I had to concentrate on the matter at hand, I told myself. And I had to stop looking at Cass and thinking of Jessina. It was pure coincidence that the boy looked like her.

I was determined to keep the strange resemblance out of my mind in the future.