course for Kyvos.”
Chapter Seven
Lamira
I can hear voices arguing from within my shared quarters as I round the bend of the artfully burnished corridor of the Ancestral Queen—and none of them belong to my current roommates.
Curious, I creep up toward the portal with my back flush against the smooth, concave wall. I’m careful to keep my still-damp skin from making contact with the metal, but when I furtively peer through the door and see Varia and Marion standing between the bunks, I relax and just walk in normally.
“Hey, guys, what’s up?” My brow furrows in confusion as I take in their shabby dress. I’ve seen refugees from war zones who had more up-to-date clothing in better condition. “And why are you dressed like a couple of space hobos?”
“Hobos?” Marion puts her hands on her hips and scowls in mock anger. “I’ll have you know we’re supposed to be greaser girls.”
I look from her to Varia and then burst into laughter.
“What’s wrong with our disguises?” Varia looks down at herself with worry. “I think we pass muster.”
“You will, once you get dirtied up a little bit.” I shake my head and chuckle. “Smearing a little soot on your cheeks only works in holovid flicks. Think about it, Varia. Does Ilya ever have fingernails this clean?” I grab Varia’s wrist and lift it up so I can show her the pristine nails she’s trying to pass off as greaser.
Marion sighs and exchanges glances with Varia. “She’s right, you know.”
“Why do you guys want to look like engine room girls, anyway?”
They both turn their gazes toward me and Varia looks a tad uncomfortable for some reason.
Marion speaks in her stead. “While Jax is a great cook, humans still need some things nutritionally that he may not be aware of. I was hoping to peruse the Kyvos marketplace and try to cover the bases, so to speak.”
“That makes sense, but is it a good idea to go down to an open port with bounties on your heads? Oh, wait—disguises. Duh.” I put my arms akimbo and take in their weak costumes. “It’s a good thing you ran into good ol’ practical-minded Lamira, then. Isn’t it? I’m going with you.”
“Absolutely not.” Varia crosses her arms over her chest, her gaze as firm as her tone. “Kyvos station hasn’t completely descended into barbarism, but it lies just outside the bleeding edge of League space. Technically, the only laws are whatever the owners choose to enforce.”
“That means the IHC won’t have authority, either.” I grin at her in triumph. “So there.”
Varia grits her teeth and visibly works to control her temper. She’s been getting better at that ever since she and Solair paired up. I guess they really do complement each other rather well. That makes me think about how I might complement Grantian for some reason, but I quickly dispel such thoughts before I get all worked up again.
“Lamira, this is no game. Yes, IHC Security won’t have a presence, but there are a lot of desperate people on Kyvos. A lot of folks get stranded there, either because they don’t have the necessary Visa to get to Alliance or IHC space, or because the ship they came in on is too badly damaged to go any further. Or they just plain can’t afford to go any further. Ten million creds a head is a lot of money. It literally could mean life or death for some of them.”
“I know, but you can’t just keep me cooped up here on this ship because it might be dangerous.” I sigh and put my hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re looking out for me and I appreciate it, but I’m not your child. I’m your best friend.”
Varia nods, patting my hand on her shoulder, but I can tell she’s not happy. I struggle to make myself useful by improving upon our disguises.
It all begins when I empty a bottle of engine oil on top of Varia’s head. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Relax, it washes out much easier than you’d expect, and your hair will feel great afterward. But for now, you look too glamorous.”
Marion laughs and rubs oil in her own hair. “She’s right, Varia. We’ve got to look like we don’t just work in the dirt. We live in it.”
It becomes a lighthearted game, the three of us finding new and creative ways to dirty each other up. By the time we’re finished, I’d be hard pressed to recognize myself, let alone Varia and Marion.
Varia, of