Page 19

Tanin

R unning deliveries had the potential to be ordinary and unexciting. In fact, most of their deliveries and pickups were that way. Tanin didn’t always have to meet a client directly. In fact, some of them would rather maintain their anonymity entirely. Something King Gissrn might have considered, but Tanin supposed his ego was too great for that.

While Tanin and Trove had been escorting the female crew through their shopping trip, Rok had gone to pick up the package that was waiting for them here. Unlike Gissrn’s aborted delivery, this one was rather simple. It was a very delicate and expensive statue that they were being paid extra to make sure it got to the next station completely intact. It was coveted enough that there was a real chance someone could come after it, so their client was willing to pay their extra fee to make sure it got there safely.

Tanin’s first rule, to always finish a job, had earned them a stellar reputation already. Even if Rok showed up to the destination bleeding, exhausted, and with a trail of broken bodies behind him, the package would be whole, unharmed, and clean in his hands. That was the true basis on which Tanin had built his business. No careless shuffling of boxes or crates, no mass transportation of goods from one place to the next.

One package. One fee. One guaranteed delivery intact, safe, and fresh – if applicable, back when their generator didn’t take so long to recharge – to wherever it needed to go. No matter how far, how dangerous, or how long it took.

That naturally meant he had more exclusive clientele than most delivery companies, but it also meant that they had to fight for his attention. If they were using Tanin, it was because they were out of options and low on hope.

The package they picked up on Hon-Kal was precious and expensive enough that its owner thought it best to send with people already well known to be willing to go to any lengths to ensure safe delivery. The statuette had been purchased on Hon-Kal and needed to be delivered to the owner’s office on a mining colony that he owned.

After inspecting the statuette and giving it to Alred to seal and secure within the smaller, more protected vaults, Tanin returned to the bridge. Sway had stayed behind to oversee the ship upgrades that Tanin had ordered. Their shielding was patched and repaired after taking damage in the last pirate fight. It wouldn’t fix the subspace sickness, but it was a necessity for general safety. He’d also ordered refills of the nutrition powder for the food synthesizer, the cleaning fluids, and a bunch of other things that they’d used. The septic tanks were emptied, the sensors all recalibrated.

Basic maintenance, really. But important. They needed to be able to get to the starship docks at Hir-Fallow so that they could do a complete overhaul of the ship and the generators. Once the generators were fixed, they’d be able to complete more work even faster, which would increase their profits, allowing them further upgrades.

Tanin could get Garnet new cleaning machines entirely, not just repaired ones that had come secondhand with the ship when he initially purchased it.

Alred was in charge of the Humility. As he should be, since it was his body. He kept track of everything that needed to be fixed, updated, or changed. He worked with Vytln to keep the engines and generators maintained, but otherwise, it was his ship as much as it was Tanin’s.

However, Alred wasn’t a known entity on the ship. He could pretend to be a standard AI in a pinch, but most times, he didn’t want to interact with anyone who wasn’t on their crew. The females got to meet him before only by chance and circumstance.

When they’d been connected to Captain Ikvar’s ship, Alred had gone into hiding in his core, leaving the ship to be maintained only by the onboard computers. Retreating to his core meant that Alred could not be detected by scanners or anything searching the ship – unless they already knew where his core was and could physically get to it. The location, however, was a secret known only to Tanin and Alred himself.

It also meant that Alred couldn’t interact with the world. He had no access to his scanners, his sensors, anything. He couldn’t even tell if it was safe to emerge yet. He would time himself when he retreated to his core and, at the end of the timer, he’d poke his head out to see if it was safe to come out yet or not. If he didn’t time it, or he couldn’t, he would wait until Tanin came to activate the core manually. No one else but Tanin could do it.

Alred was not supposed to be away from his home planet. What was left of the undroitt recall tried to stay there, on their servers, as much as possible. Those who left and performed as AI the way Alred did could only do it under special circumstances. He had permission at one point, when he was first taken from his home world. However, in the course of doing his assigned job, he had been stolen. One thing led to another, and he found himself on Rik-Vane. Now, he was Tanin’s AI. But if he was ever found out, he would be forcibly removed and taken back to his planet. Something he had no desire to do. But that would be extremely easy if the core was found.

If Alred’s core was taken from the Humility, Alred would have to go with it. The core didn’t actually do anything. It housed Alred’s code, his memories, and had a very small storage space that Alred had never let Tanin see, and that was it. If he wasn’t attached to some other machine, he was as useful as a rock. He could be put in an unlocked box and taken right back to his home world without anyone putting any effort into it, and he’d be helpless to stop them.

That’s why his core’s location was a secret, and why, if ever there was a chance someone could detect him – like if someone was, say, upgrading the ship and doing maintenance – he would go right back into that core and only emerge when his timer went up or Tanin came to get him.

That meant all the planning and calculations and navigation had to be done by Tanin and Sway by hand – or, at least, without Alred’s input. It meant a lot of tedious work fell on their shoulders as the ship’s basic AI that took over when Alred wasn’t there couldn’t do the math.

Traveling by subspace was very fast and bypassed worries of time dilation. However, it did require a great deal of set up. Every time they had to swing, they needed to calculate the trip. Even if they were going somewhere they’d been before. Because the universe was constantly in motion, they had to re-do the calculations every time. The most popular places – stations and planets and the like – would have their own subspace data to transfer to those wanting to travel there. However, smaller, out of the way places, or places that couldn’t afford to have a subspace mathematician on hand, could only be reached by a navigator capable of doing those calculations.

Sway had to learn those calculations himself when they first started. He relied on Alred to help him a lot in those early days, especially for the ‘easier’ math involved. Now, however, he could do it all by himself, but it took longer without Alred doing the basic parts for him.

Tanin was learning the math from Sway now. Though he didn’t ever plan on being the helmsmale or navigator, it was something he could learn. Tanin was determined to be able to do everything on this ship. Even if he wasn’t the best, he wanted to be sure that he could fill in for any of his males if something happened.

Not that he ever planned on being without them. The eight of them had agreed to stay together, to work together, going forward. Trust was hard won and easily lost for those from Rik-Vane. The bonds between them were forged harder and stronger than steel. What bound them initially wasn’t trust at all, but the determination to get away. To get a better life. To actually be able to live and sleep without fear. To that end, they chose to trust each other.

More than that, they chose to trust Tanin. He’d given his word to take care of them, and they believed in him. That’s why they followed his rules, and that’s why he devoted himself to them. Their relationship was built on desperation but made into something unbreakable.

And that was why Tanin was determined to be able to do all their jobs. In case they were sick, they needed help, they were injured, he could take over. They weren’t ever going to leave him; he was always going to take care of them. In that way, they were brothers in a sense.

He supposed he should also learn how to clean the ship.

“You’re smiling, captain.”

He focused back on Sway. They were both seated at his console, working on the calculations for their next swing. Sway was doing the bulk of the work, but Tanin understood what he was doing and could follow along.

“Was I smiling?”

Sway nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile. I think it had to be when we finally got the ship away from Rik-Vane.”

“It was a day worth smiling over.”

“Indeed. So, what is so good that you’re smiling now?”

Tanin sat back in the seat, but didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. There was really only one change recently that could affect him like that.

“The females are nice to have around,” Sway said softly into the silence, like he could be talking to himself, fingers moving in the air as he worked with the holodisplay. “It’s almost like we’re normal.”

Tanin gave him a look. “Normal?”

“Yeah. Like, we’re not who we are. Like we’re the kind of males that females would feel comfortable around.” He smiled gently. “It’s nice.”

Sway’s tone was even and calm, but there was something sparkling in his black eyes. It meant more to him than he was letting on.

Sway was a farasie. The feathered species was vegetarian, peaceful, and pacifistic. They were probably the most peaceful species in the Coalition, even going back through their historical record. The males were strong to protect their females, their younglings, and their nests in emergency, but they were otherwise harmless. It was well known about their species.

But Sway was raised on Rik-Vane. A place where the peaceful and pacifistic were eaten alive, sometimes literally.

No one would normally fear someone from his species. If you saw a farasie, you knew that they weren’t going to hurt you. That they were the most likely to help you if asked.

Unless you were from Rik-Vane. Sway had never experienced the inherent trust that came with being a farasie. He’d never been able to enjoy the peace of his species. But with these two females aboard, females that had nothing to do with their past life, he could finally feel that sense of peace and tranquility. It was like proof of how far they had come from that part of their history.

“It is nice,” Tanin agreed finally, his tone as unreadable as Sway’s. “It’s different.”

“Should we tell them?”

Tanin frowned, not needing clarification as to what he meant. “No. They don’t need to know. We’ve killed that part of ourselves and left it in our past to rot. All of us did. Why bring up something like that if it’s left behind?”

“Well,” Sway paused in his motions, looking at the data without really seeing it. “I guess I don’t want them to know about my past either. But if you’re going to mate Garnet, don’t you think she deserves to know who you are?”

“Who said I was going to mate Garnet?”

Sway sent him a grin. “I may not leave my post often, captain, but I do see things.”

Tanin grunted. “I desire her. I won’t lie about it. But we aren’t that far from our past. All of you are still wanted. Most of us have enemies that could hunt us down at any time. Or friends. I don’t know what would be worse. If I’m just their sponsor, I can get them away from us if I have to. If I mate Garnet, she’s trapped with me. They are nice females. They’re sweet. Innocent. I can’t open our past to her. It would do nothing but cause her despair and worry.”

“And it would make them stop trusting us as well.”

There was that too. Tanin was rather sure that if Garnet found out all the things he’d done, the things they’d all had to do, she wouldn’t look at him with such obvious invitation. She doubtlessly suspected something. The questions she sometimes asked made him think she already guessed at least the broadest strokes of his past.

But she didn’t know specifics. And if she did, she wouldn’t have trusted herself or her sister into his hands.

They were safe, of course. He knew that. He’d worked too hard for this life to risk it by living the way he used to. But they might not understand. They’d likely fear them. If they could look at them and see their pasts, their crimes, written across their faces, no doubt they’d recoil in fear, in disgust, and those sweet smiles and cheerful dispositions they’d all come to enjoy flitting about their ship would quickly cease.

And it was only because they were humans that they weren’t reacting that way already. Any female from Coalition space would know what it meant that they were from Rik-Vane. But those two had no context for that warning, so it was meaningless to them.

Because of that, they could move around the ship, unconcerned. They might jump if they stumbled across Sorbet and Tebros lingering in shadows, or they might be confused when Rok peered at them from around corners, but they weren’t scared.

The sound of the lift made Tanin and Sway both look back as Garnet came into view, her newly repaired cleaning bot at her side. The robot trailed after her like a loyal pet as she came walking in with a determined look on her face, pulling her new gloves on tight. She was wearing one of her new outfits, a simple design rather similar to her previous one that she called her work clothes.

“Alright,” she declared, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s time.”

“Time for what?” Tanin asked, curious as to why she had an expression on her face like she was about to go to battle.

“I’m cleaning this mess!” She pointed around with a stern finger. “And it’s probably going to be loud. I am going to mutter about the filth the entire time. If you two need quiet to work, I suggest you go elsewhere, because this is happening. I’ve put it off long enough, and if I keep waiting for Sway and you to not be working, it will never get done. Go back to what you were doing or get gone. You can’t stop me now. Come, Spot.”

Tanin was about to ask her who Spot was, but he realized, as she sent a hard look at the cleaning robot, that she had named the machine.

Why?

He didn’t get a chance to ask, as she immediately dove into the piles of trash and dirty dishes that surrounded Sway’s workspace. Tanin could admit that it was getting bad, but it wasn’t yet at the point where he’d step in.

Apparently, Garnet’s point was much lower, because she attacked the mess like it had personally insulted her, grumbling the entire time as promised. Her hair was up, her face was red, and she was clearly not trying to be alluring or sensual at all in this moment.

So why was it so adorable?

“It’s the way of females,” Sway said, whispering to him so that she wouldn’t hear. “They claim areas and they begin to nest in them. And if those places aren’t as they like, they take it as a personal affront. Your female is already comfortable here.”

Tanin wanted to argue about her being his female, but even he knew that it was a foolish argument to try to make. His resistance to her was token at best.

It would be better for her to find a good male, but he wasn’t one, and that’s exactly why he couldn’t discourage her. He simply didn’t want to.

He turned back to his and Sway’s work. As it happened, they didn’t need quiet. If anything, they were enjoying the sounds of her working behind them. Her grumbles at the mess, her little grunts of effort as she moved things, were practically music. No female would feel this comfortable in Rik-Vane, but Garnet did here, on the Humility, among them.

It was a pleasure to listen to, even if they were trying to focus on work.