Page 35 of Bonded

Maybe there was something to this link after all. As I stared at the console, I thought of how I could be helpful and not just be a distraction.

Once more, I linked with the ship. I always believed that knowledge was power, and finding the truth was more important than pretty lies. I had a wealth of knowledge available to me, thanks to this link. Time to use it to my advantage.

But first…maybe I could get the word out to Ithran to hurry just a bit.

VRYEK

Iam now. Thank you.

The ghost of Priya’s robotic words echoed in my mind. The implication was obvious—at one point she hadn’t been fine, though now she was. Had she somehow encounter this person before?

I wished Priya could link with me. Then, I could ask her directly. Or she could communicate the source of her distress.

I had to trust that Ruzan was attending to her so that I could focus on the matter at hand.

Ori and Uri Kaza. Known collectively as the Kaza twins, given how often they speak for each other and finish each other's sentences, they made no secret of hiding their lust for profit and advancement.

How would a third party help them out in either regard?

“Who is this now?” I asked.

“This is Brooks—” Ori started.

Uri continued without pause. “He is now part of our growing syndicate.”

“He and his crew can focus on—”

“The behind-the-scenes aspect of our operations.”

Ithran was right. If—or when—they saw an advantage, they would always try to take it. No matter the amount of clothes or pretty words, a mercenary was a mercenary through and through. “As opposed to the black market supplies that you supply for the right price?”

It didn’t take a leap of logic to understand that we were being baited into a trap. Every other supply run had been a simple trade. A few bits of haggling here and there as part of the deal were also expected. After all, none of us were innocent.

Blindsiding us with a third party middleman, one with a Nokta’s ill-repute on top of that, was not within the spectrum of acceptable “honor among thieves.”

I didn’t know what exactly they were after, but knowing they only cared for profit that could feed their egos, I doubted it was anything good.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,”’ Ori said. “We do not call it black market.

Uri continued. “We prefer to call it import-export.”

“This kind of business needs a certain amount of—”

“Respectability and distance. Brooks here allows us to—”

“Delegate certain activities so that they do not attach us to it.” With that, the Kaza twins looked at Ruzan and me, clarifying that we were the “it” they didn’t want to be attached to.

“I see.”

The new male named Brooks cleared his throat to gain attention. “Why don’t we have a seat and get acquainted? I trust this booth is acceptable?” He didn’t speak IR-Standard, but the words would have sounded illicit no matter what language he had spoken.

He was a Nokta, a cutthroat people who profits off of the misery of others. Where there was profit to be had, there they were like carrion feeders scavenging among the detritus of society.

We had been most successful in keeping away from their ilk. That one was here now at our point of greatest need was not lost on me.

“Here, we can place your bag elsewhere so it will not be in the way.” His intonations brought to mind that churning feeling in my stomach as if I had eaten something foul that I needed to purge.

That feeling had come from Priya. Something about Brooks’s presence had initially alarmed her to the point of nausea, and I would know why.

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