Page 24

Chapter Sixteen

Mula Pesada

V ic giggled as the chickens swarmed her, bumping her with their additional appendages.

More legs made sense. Last night, Leah made roasted chicken and salad.

Vic had never tasted anything that good.

Well, besides Dieter’s pasta. Her raving drew a blush from Leah, though, at this point, Vic couldn’t say whether it was from embarrassment or if their vendetta was ongoing.

Computer had awoken her to tend to her task.

As soon as she unhooked the bag, the chickens gathered around her.

Sprinkling the seed garnered a little breathing space.

She hooked the bag and chose the next, the one with ‘P’ on it.

The contents made her gag. Rotten food, something she wouldn’t have wasted to begin with, had to be poured into the troughs.

The cow bags were closest to them, marked with a ‘C.’ She stuck in her hand and pulled out pale-gold strands.

A deep inhale filled her chest with…she couldn’t say.

There was something deeply organic about the smell, like sand, dead grass, sun, and dew.

“There’s hydroponics just for the cows. Captain loves his cream and cheese.”

Vic cast a grin over her shoulder. “Morning, Dieter. Thanks for my UV light.”

He shrugged. “Did it while you were dockside.” His fingers twitched as if he longed to ask about her unscheduled trip.

Instead, he scooped a metal bucket off a shelf and strode to the farthest cow.

He stroked her nose, taking the time to greet her before kneeling to place the bucket under the udders. “Come, Vic.”

She mimicked his greeting, with an added scratch behind the cow’s soft ear, then kneeled on the opposite side of Dieter. The cow twitched away from her, shuffling on her feet.

“Mm, seems I need to do this a few more times before Spots is comfortable with you. Watch my fingers.” He wrapped his hand around an udder, and with a gentle tug, squeezed from top to bottom.

A jet of white liquid hit the bucket’s bottom.

“Do this until you reach the black mark on the inside of the bucket. That’s all we ask of them each day. ”

“All right, and what’s this one called?” She rose and rubbed the cow’s nose.

“Moo,” he grinned.

She chuckled. “You named her, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” He carried the bucket to the door, expecting her to follow. “Captain said I could since it was my chore for a while.”

“That was sweet of him.”

“Sweet?” Dieter laughed. “Captain wouldn’t give a damn if I named her Blessings, as long as she supplies his milk and cream. Hungry?”

“Starving.” Vic checked the pens were properly shut, then hurried after him. “I could kill for a coffee.”

“Same. Nikko’s making breakfast so prepare for a feast: bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, mushrooms, and fried tomato.” Dieter hummed as he lugged the bucket. It wasn’t heavy but cumbersome. “We’ll decant this in the kitchen, sol-ray the bucket, and return it to the pen after breakfast.”

“Then what’s your next task? What’s mine?” She trailed him into the mess, the delicious aroma of coffee and bacon enticing her to savor each inhale. Grunt sat at the table, sipping black tea.

“You’re with me as a new employee,” Nikko answered as he cracked an egg into the pan. “Later, Tiny will show you how to make butter and cheese.”

Vic bounced on her toes, excitement flooding her body with pre-battle adrenaline. “It’s like I’m on a farm.”

Nikko sliced a glance at her. His lips twitched before he lowered his gaze. “I’m happy you approve.”

“I do. I’m like a kid in a tech store.”

“Hey,” Grunt called out, looking up from his tablet.

“Thanks for yesterday, Grunt. I owe you one.” She sat on the bench beside him. “Victoria Har…Barnes pays her debts.” Shit, that was close . She had to practice saying her new name.

“Excellent. My evil plan is working.” He rubbed his hands together in fake glee. “Next time it’s my turn to muck out the chickens…”

“Deal.”

He grinned. “That was too easy. What’s the catch?”

“There is none.” She smiled at Dieter in thanks for the coffee he offered her. Taking the cup, she took a sip before placing it on the table before her. “Well…”

“I knew it.” Grunt waved his hands. “Give it to me, woman.”

She laughed. “Recipes. If I’m to cook, I need to learn how.”

“Oh, I can have fun with that.” Grunt laughed like the teenager he was, finding too much joy in his own sense of humor. “Cake anyone?”

“Cake?” Tiny hurried in, her hair unbound, and her cheeks flushed. “Am I late? What cake?”

Vic laughed. “It’s my birthday, so Dieter’s going to teach us how to make a cake.” It was all lies. She’d seen an image depicting a multi-colored cylinder with tiny fireworks on top. Not that she’d ever tasted one.

Dieter met Vic’s gaze. “I am?”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Deets.” Tiny patted his shoulder.

He blushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, couldn’t resist the urge to bake. What man can?”

“Idiots, the lot of you,” Nikko grumbled, despite the warmth in his voice. He placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table, then followed it with brown circles and dark gray bulbs.

“Isn’t Leah joining us?” Vic shuffled along the bench to allow someone else to squeeze in.

“She’s delivering the captain and Webb’s meals.” Nikko sat beside Vic, pressing his side to hers. Before she could say anything, a fried egg, two strips of bacon, a brown circle, and a pile of bulbs landed on her plate. “Toast?”

She blinked at Nikko. “I don’t know.”

“How the farg did you survive, Vic?” Grunt smeared butter on a golden square and slid it onto her plate.

“We had meals, I just don’t know what went into them. Growing up was mostly hydro-gel.”

“Can you use these?” Dieter waved his knife and fork, only to wince when Tiny jabbed him in the ribs.

Vic laughed. “I’m not uncivilized.” She gathered said utensils and cut a piece off the egg. Not that she had eaten anything like this, but she had seen it served to Erv. “We had a white-gray glop.”

“Boiled oats?” Tiny squeaked while scrunching her nose. Dieter bopped her on it with his forefinger. She blushed at his attention.

Vic scanned the table. Did no one see how Tiny felt about the man?

“We had slabs of what might have been reconstituted meat. Once a week, they served sugar buns.” Shoving her forkful into her mouth, Vic groaned at the explosion of salt across her tongue.

“Delicious.” Her fingers trembled when she grabbed the circle and bit into it.

“What is this? The crunch, the gooeyness?”

“A hashbrown, and these are mushrooms sauteed in butter.” Grunt pointed with his knife.

Vic’s moans filled the room as she devoured her first breakfast. At lunch and dinner last night, they had been as entertained.

When Leah strolled in, the laughter died, and everyone focused on their plates, as if they were guilty of fraternizing with the enemy. She sat next to Tiny and packed her plate.

“Where’s Trent?” Vic asked before biting into a squidgy gray mushroom.

“On duty, manning the bridge. One of us must be on guard at all times.” Nikko scooped a hashbrown and a spoonful of mushrooms onto Leah’s plate. “It’s what I’ll be showing you after breakfast…once you’ve had a shower.” His nose crinkled.

Tiny giggled. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but you and Deets smell of cow.”

“Oh.” Vic placed her utensils beside her plate and sniffed her sleeve. The stench of Moo lingered. “Oops. I’ll take a sol-bath before meeting you on the bridge?” At Nikko’s nod, she wiggled off the bench. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Rushing to her quarters, she left the door open while she stripped in front of the sol-bath, letting the plate beneath her feet spin as the rays scanned her.

While basking in the UV light, she studied herself in the reflective surface, confirming her hair was still braided and hadn’t yet begun to unravel.

Not wanting to keep Nikko waiting, she threw on her uniform and jogged to the bridge, hoping they would have a heart-to-heart.

It had been a dick move on his part to pretend to help her.

Trent rested his boots on the console, gripped a tablet in hand, and chuckled at a vid.

“Morning.” She stepped into the room, then sidled to the right to lean against the bulkhead. There wasn’t seating other than the chair in front of the console, which Trent occupied. She hoped she didn’t need to learn the purpose of the acronyms beneath the many flickering buttons.

“Hey, Vic.” He flicked his gaze at her but paused to appraise her from the boots to the tank top. “How was breakfast?” Without breaking eye contact with her breasts, he touched the tablet and slid it into the side pocket of his cargo pants.

“It was amazing.” She beamed then frowned. “I’m sorry, should I have brought you a plate?”

“No worries. Someone will.” He folded his legs and rose, prowling toward her.

Like she hadn’t seen that done a million times. A kick to the knee, and a punch to the gut and throat would incapacitate him for good.

“If you value your life, Trent, I suggest you accept the no-sex rule and use your hand instead.”

He winced and held up said hand as if in surrender. “Fair enough.”

“Now that that’s resolved…” Nikko strode onto the bridge and hitched his thumb at the door. “Leah’s holding breakfast for you.” Once Trent left, Nikko faced her. “Captain’s a little old-fashioned.”

“I gathered that, and it does minimize drama.” Which put paid to her untried matchmaking skills with Dieter and Tiny. “What if two employees married?”

“Married?” Nikko’s brows hit his hairline. “He might agree to that. Now, what’s with the Vic Har-Barnes?”

She stilled, having hoped no one had picked up on her faux pas.

“Part of your fugitive persona?”

“Yes.” She fluttered her eyelashes and swung out a hip as she’d seen Fortuna do for her fans. “All right, I’ll tell you. I had a stage name, but when the emperor fell pregnant with my baby, I had to run, y’see.”

Nikko’s lips twitched. “Onto business.” He tapped the chair, asking her to sit.