Page 86 of Tempting Cargo

“Saris! What a pleasant surprise. Oh my gods, I haven’t seen you since, what, Bzhalti? You’ve got a new ship. How exciting.”

I suppressed a grin. Muzati was all loose-limbed enthusiasm, and Saris was a study in contrasts, her body still and taut.

“Muzati. The pleasure is all yours.”

“You’re too kind. Ooh, a cruiser? What happened to theFortune’s Dawn? Was she getting a bit old?”

Saris looked away, and I could imagine a pinched expression on her face.

Muzati, to nobody’s surprise, remained undeterred. “Oh, I like your clothes. Galaxy rubbing off on you, is it? Good for you. Those uniforms are so starchy. And not very flattering. Sometimes Captain Sh—”

“What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Are you, though?” She strolled around the larger vessel, away from where crates still floated into the cargo bay. She touched the hull in various places, the captain trailing behind her, trying to pull her away, but Muzati shrugged her off every time.

“Why isn’t Saris being more physical if she doesn’t want her there?” I asked.

Tokki glanced at me. “Can’t afford to make a scene is my guess.”

Muzati prattled about technical details, asking a weight of questions Saris never answered. They rounded the far side and came back into view near the cargo doors.

“Ooh. What you picking up?” she said.

“Spices.”

“Oh my gods, I’m just so excited to see another kri’ith out here. Hang on.”

All I could make out was her grabbing the shorter female across the shoulders in a hug, then holding her own arm up, wrist angled towards their faces.

“Get off me.” Saris wrestled out of our engineer’s grip.

“Aw, you’re no fun. I’ll send you the pic. What’s your comm ID?”

“Enough! Leave me alone, moon defiler.”

Muzati sauntered back into theDorimisa, holding up her wrist-comm for us to see.

Saris wore the pinched expression I’d imagined, and Muzati may have looked mildly unhinged, but it was a good photo, the red backdrop of Hydouis visible, as was the ID-tag on the ship’s hull.

“I might have stuck a tracker on one of the landing struts, too.” Muzati’s teeth seemed overly sharp as she beamed at us. “Can’t hurt.”

When Shohari returned, there was no trace of the troubled woman from the training room yesterday. She was in her element, the buzz of negotiation dancing around her like dust motes in a shaft of sunlight. Now I was the one holding back, while she was all herself. All real, all competent, all grumpy, and… not mine.

“Let’s get these loaded,” she said.

Her muscles flexed as she lifted and stacked the heavy crates alongside us, and I ached to touch her.

More crates floated into the cargo bay, a stronger sulphuric, rotten egg smell seeping into the air.

“What are we collecting?” I asked Muzati.

“It’s a mix. There’s a mineral deposit from deep in the fissures, highly sought after for luxury nanochip components. Plus a silk spun from a particular worm deep in the hot chasms. Then we have to pick up the shipment for Shohari’s new contact.”

“Anandri?” It was a name I’d heard a couple of times, and Muzati nodded. “Who is that?”

“He’s a nebaru. Runs a floating auction house near the Rinta system. All very hush-hush, very high value goods.”

“You don’t sound sure about it.”