Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,121
Jack said as she rose from her seat. “I told Yirland that once we’ve unloaded anything from my ship the locals can use, we’ll get started on resupplying this place. Might even be able to drum up some donations.” She viewed their surroundings with a rather bleak expression. “No time to lose on that, as far as I can see.” With a pointed look at Moe, she went on, “I suppose you guys will be heading to Terra Minor soon. We haven’t been over that way for a while. Give my love to Trag and all the others, will you?”
“Sure thing, Mom. And thanks again for coming to my rescue.” Moe grinned. “Whether I needed rescuing or not. It’s been good to see you guys.”
“Same here, kid. We’ll let you know when we have shipments ready for delivery here.” She nodded toward the center of the arena, where a troop of Nedwuts were in the process of carrying Pelarus off the field, cage and all. “I’d kinda like to get those chains back, though. Sentimental value, you know.”
Cat slipped an arm around his wife. “I would have no difficulty if I never saw them again. I have very few pleasant memories associated with them.” His lips curved into a gentle smile. “Other than you removing them.”
“One of the best days of my life,” Jack declared.
Cat kissed her cheek. “And mine.”
A month later, the Tequila Sunrise landed at Nimbaza Spaceport in the hour just before dawn, with no one there to greet them aside from one lone spaceport official. Moe had hoped to get the meeting with Trag over with as soon as they landed, but Klara had been adamant about maintaining the element of surprise. “If my father won’t acknowledge me, I don’t want to know it until I look him in the eyes.”
Larry’s report of Trag’s skepticism obviously still rankled, making Klara put off the meeting until the very last second, even though it was apparent that she loved the idea of having at least one living relative. Moe knew for a fact that she had seven living relatives, given that Trag and Micayla had produced two healthy litters. They were all younger than Klara, of course, the eldest littermates having turned twenty-two on their last birthday.
The more Moe thought about it, the angrier he became. How could Trag possibly doubt that Klara was his daughter? To the best of his recollection, each and every one of Trag’s offspring had the same orange streak in their hair. Failing that, DNA testing would prove it absolutely.
Klara threaded her arm through his and leaned close. “Do you know where he lives?”
“Yeah. Been there a few times. It’s a long way from here, though. Good thing we’ve got two speeders.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather the gang didn’t come with us.”
“No,” she replied. “I need my family around me.”
Moe didn’t bother to point out that her true family was to be found on Trag’s farm. He knew where her heart and loyalties lay. “You’re with me this time,” he whispered to her as Nevid and Temfilk rolled the speeders from the hold. He motioned for the gang to climb aboard. “You guys just follow us, okay?”
“Yah, boss.” Lis nodded as he hopped in the pilot’s seat of Klara’s speeder.
Moe started to protest, but immediately thought better of it, considering the Racks had been the ones to find his own speeder and bring it back to him.
Temfilk, on the other hand, chose to take exception. “I’ll stick with you and Klara. I’ve flown with Lis at the controls before. No, thank you!”
Nexbit snickered as he took the seat beside Lis. “Wuss.”
Temfilk stuck out his tongue in the Norludian version of fuck you. “Hey, I didn’t come all this way just to get my ass killed by a bunch of joy-riding Racks.”
Nexbit rolled his eyes. “They’re not gonna kill ya. You need to get over yourself.” He patted Lis on the shoulder. “Lis is as good at handling a speeder as you are.”
Temfilk shuddered. “That’s not saying much. Remember the time I ran us into a stack of rotting—”
“Yes, I remember,” Nexbit said quickly. “Although I’m surprised you’d bring that up now. I’ve never known Lis to run into anything.”
Temfilk waved a dismissive hand as he climbed into the rear seat beside Nevid. “Whatever. No offense, Lis, but I happen to prefer Moe’s piloting skills.”
Lis didn’t appear to take any offense, merely chirping a cheerful, “Yah, boss,” as he started the engine.
Despite Moe’s running