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Chapter Eighteen

Mula Pesada

B y the sixth day, Vic had managed to milk Moo without a problem.

Handling the udders, or as she liked to call them, elongated nipples, was trickier.

All it had taken was crooned compliments while she stroked Moo’s ear.

Now, after many attempts, she waddled down the passage to the mess with a full bucket.

“You did it?” Dieter cheered.

“Sure did. Moo’s a sweet cow.” Vic placed the bucket on the counter beside the butter tub.

She flicked a finger through the lump of butter Tiny had shown her how to make.

While she licked the yellow goodness, she hoped they didn’t tackle cheese next.

Mastering making that delicacy was far harder with its many steps.

Leah glared at her while stirring the eggs Vic had collected that morning.

Scrambled eggs and jacks were on the menu.

Even though Grunt, Tiny, and Trent let Vic hover while they cooked, Leah hadn’t once allowed her in the mess.

The bandage was off, and the stitches had faded, but Leah cradled her hand as if it bothered her.

Not that Vic would apologize. She hadn’t survived by going around saying, ‘sorry, this will hurt.’ “Need anything? More eggs?”

“Parsley,” Leah clipped.

Vic jerked back and sprinted down the passage to hydroponics, happy to visit it.

She couldn’t explain how much she loved her job.

The lab held the most accumulated water she had seen in her life.

Scanning the plants, she searched for the label ‘Parsley,’ then plucked a few leaves like Tiny had shown her.

Vic’s braid whipped from side-to-side when she jogged to the mess. She placed the gathered leaves beside Leah. Hesitating, Vic half-expected the woman to chase her away. When she didn’t glance her way, Vic grabbed a coffee instead.

“What are those?” She gestured to the golden circles between sips of smoky goodness. Farg, she was addicted and happy to be.

“Jacks, made from ground flour, eggs, and milk.” Leah met her gaze as she flipped one. “Pinch of salt, some sugar, and a rising agent.”

“They smell incredible.” Vic drew in a deep breath. “The sugar sweetens the air.”

Leah offered a stiff smile. “Set out the plates. I’m sure the crew will be here soon.”

Vic did as asked, eager to eat. While she placed a fork to the left of each plate, and a knife to the right, she snuck glances at Leah. Her friendliness had Vic on the backfoot. Zebras didn’t change their stripes, or so the saying went.

With his nose buried in his tablet, Grunt barreled in, almost colliding with Vic.

He whispered an apology and settled onto the bench.

All had their spots, and Vic had inadvertently stolen Leah’s at the first breakfast. Now, Vic sat next to Tiny and on the edge of the bench.

As far as Vic was concerned, Leah could squeeze between Grunt and Nikko until doomsday.

“Tomorrow, we reach Europa.” Trent bounded in, sliding into Nikko’s spot since he was manning the bridge. “Can’t wait to show you the ropes, Vic.”

“A moon?” She rose to order him an orange juice—his preference.

“Yup, and an endless source of ice. We can’t mine it fast enough.” He grinned when she offered him the glass.

“Why aren’t there more ice haulers?” She drained her coffee and rose to pour another.

“An unexpected storm on Jupiter impacted the haulers positioned on Europa at the time, cutting the numbers in half. They’re frozen relics on the surface.” Leah scooped scrambled eggs onto each plate, followed by stacks of jacks.

“Did I miss it?” Dieter strode in with Tiny close on his heels.

“Miss what?” Vic asked, then bit into the jack. She groaned, closing her eyes to savor the doughy sweetness.

“That.” Leah laughed.

Vic paused, her mouth gaping on the verge of taking another bite. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I can eat in my room—”

“And we miss out on your reactions? Nope.” Leah squeezed between Trent and Grunt.

“Did you want a coffee, Leah?” While chewing on a jack, Vic hitched her thumb at the vendor.

“Please, black with sugar.”

“Mine and Tiny’s are the same as yours,” Dieter called out, throwing an arm across Tiny’s shoulders for a hug. Her cheeks flushed pink again.

With her gaze resting on Tiny, Vic swapped mugs as the vendor poured the coffees.

She served the mugs, then joined the crew, diving into her scrambled eggs with gusto.

After this, she planned to teach Tiny defensive strikes.

Then Dieter would fetch Vic to, at last, show her the engine room.

Daily, she went out on the ship with him to check panels, fuses, or a leaking seal.

Today, she would go alone because he had to prep the ice riggers.

She was a little nervous, but the butterflies in her stomach weren’t half as bad as her debut Ring match. Nikko told her to nap in the afternoon since her first bridge duty was that evening while everyone slept. Her life was settling into one of relaxation, laughter, and good food.

Still, in the quiet hours alone in her quarters, she longed for arms to hold her, cradling her against his obsidian chest. Silly, that’s what she was. She’d met and fucked Drafe in a day. To harbor any affection for him was crazy.

Then there were the dreams, of deserts, of the sweltering salt plains, of a sky with two suns. When she awoke, the fragrance of morning dew and warm sand filled her senses, as if she recalled memories. No way would she mention her madness to Tiny, not when endless dunes reminded her of home.

Rising, she stacked her plate into the washer. Sol-rays would clean the dishes, leaving whoever cooked next to pack them away. She was scheduled to do breakfast next, with the crew thinking frying shouldn’t be too hard. Farg, she hoped so.

“Meet you in five, Tiny?” Vic squeezed her shoulder.

Tiny nodded, her purple curls bouncing. All looked at her, curious as to the reason behind the meet-up. “I messed up a test, so Vic agreed to let me scan her again.”

At that, the conversation renewed.

In the gym, Vic climbed onto a suspended machine that supposedly mimicked swimming.

It gripped her around the waist and allowed her to propel herself forward.

It had taken her an hour to figure out what exercises worked, not that she had any idea if she was doing them right.

Still, she loved the sense of freedom it gave her, as if gravity no longer limited her movements.

Dieter called to her, his face raised. “What’s going on? Tiny never fargs up.”

“Just teaching her a few defensive moves, Deets.”

He winced. “She’s blind. You know that, right?”

“Even more reason to help her.” Vic rolled onto her stomach to gaze at him while she ‘swam’ in what the computer termed ‘froglike.’ She had to scour the intra to find out what a frog was—a cute little creature with its big eyes and long tongue.

“If you hurt her…”

“You don’t care for her, Deets. She’s just another crew member to you. One day, a man’s going to see what a treasure she is and lure her away from the Mula Pesada .”

“The farg he will.” He paused mid-rant. “What man? She hides in her med bay.”

“Because she knows it well. Move one thing out of place, and she’ll bump into it.” Spinning down until her feet touched the mat, Vic met his gaze. “She’s not happy. Yeah, I know, I’m an outsider, but I see more than you do stuck in a familiar environment with the same faces. She’s lonely, Deets.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Vic chuckled. “I can call you anything I damn well please, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now, as I see it, you can help me bring her out of her shell and find her a good man to love her. For that, you need to step aside.”

He paced, his fingers twitching when he ran them through his hair.

“Oh, am I bothering?” Tiny stepped into the room but no farther.

He spun and gathered her hands, leading her to the center of the mat. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. I’m an easy target. It’s why I don’t leave when we dock.”

He scowled. “I can protect you.”

She smiled and cupped his cheek. “What happens when you want to find companionship? Why would I play the third wheel?” She grimaced but lifted her chin.

“I need affection too, Dieter.” She offered him her back and faced Vic.

He raised his hands as if to stop her, then dropped them by his side. “Shall we, Vic?”

“Sure.” She unclipped the machine, hating the drag of the ship’s artificial gravity after the sensation of weightlessness. “What I’ll teach you can only be done if they touch you.” She clasped Tiny’s wrist. “I have you, now, try and get away.”

No matter what Tiny did, Vic held firm. The woman’s struggles had no impact on Vic’s footing or grip.

“Okay, stop.” Vic squeezed. “Register where my thumb is. Can you feel it?”

Tiny nodded.

“Good, now, instead of yanking, curl your wrist inward and tug down.”

When her wrist slipped free, Tiny squealed, swaying her hips in a happy dance. Dieter chuckled, having chosen to stay and watch, as Vic had hoped.

“Now, I’m going to breach your space. Don’t be alarmed. Register where my breath is, that will tell you the location of my face.” Vic crowded Tiny, almost touching her from chest to knees.

“I sense your breath. Your chin is about here.” She touched Vic’s jaw.

“Good. Can you guess the location of my upper arms?”

Tiny thrust out her hands and caught Vic’s arms.

“Great, you’re doing well. Slowly, lift your knee.”

Struggling to balance on one foot, Tiny wobbled.

“Tighten your grip on my arms. Use me as leverage.” Vic grinned. “Raise your knee.”

Tiny did so, nudging Vic’s thigh.

“Good. When someone tries something you don’t like, do that, and knee them in the groin. It hurts just as bad for a woman. Leap back though, because they will double over.” With a shove to her chest, Tiny stumbled and fell, landing on her ass with a gasp.

“What the farg, Vic?” Dieter was beside Tiny, his hands hovering over her, not sure where to touch.