Page 18 of Trak
Anna’s brows rose. “Your ship?”
He nodded proudly. “The most beautiful thing in the universe,” he said. “Aside from you, of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. She’s far lovelier,” she said dryly. The ship was pretty ugly, if she was being honest. It was scarred and patched up in places. Rivets covered the hull, which was pointed on one end and kind of rounded on the other, with some enormous bumps that looked like missile launchers and two massive engines on either side. The ship was nothing like the sleek Baylan base ships that came and went from Earth’s atmosphere. But then again, Baylans could mold metal with their special mind powers, and Virilianswere stuck with more traditional methods, like actualtools.
“I’m afraid you’re right.” He rose, tugging her up with him. “Come on. I want you to meet her.”
“I don’t know,” Anna said. “I’m getting tired of meeting your lovers.”
“I’ve had many,” he said over his shoulder, his long tail flicking behind him. “But this one is my true love.”
Anna gave another eye roll and let herself be pulled up the metal ramp and onto the Virilian ship.
Ten
Virilians didn’t name their ships. For a long time, Virilians obtained vessels by means of piracy, bribery, and straight-up theft. They had gotten in the habit of frequently switching ships by abandoning them or trading them for goods. Not a legacy to be proud of, but Trak’s kind didn’t have the most reputable reputation to begin with. That had also been a long time ago and Trak’s ship had been bought fair and square.
Well, sort of. It had been offered in exchange for payment that couldn’t be made and Trak was pretty sure it had been stolen before that. Nevertheless, it was his now and he had made enough improvements to it for it to be solidly his. He was extremely fond of his battle cruiser with thevalpidthrusters and the upgraded R5 laser torpedoes. Sure, most of his upgrades were banned in half the quadrants they passed through, but they sure made his ship hard to catch.
Showing Anna his ship and pointing out the rooms and features, filled him with an absurd sense of pride. She didn’t say much as he led her through the cluttered maze that was his ship. He wondered what she thought of it. It was not a stretch for him to imagine her here, snapping out orders and keeping his crew in line.
“And this,” he said, finally bringing her to the front deck, “is what you would call the cockpit.”
“Not exactly a cockpit.” Her gaze moved around the large, glassed-in space marked by consoles and chairs and a tremendous number of screens suspended from the ceiling. Half of them were still scrolling data down their surfaces even though the ship was powered down. His ship never fully rested. “This is more like a bridge.”
Trak frowned. “Aren’t bridges things built to span obstacles or waterways?”
“Yes.” She smiled in amusement. “I meant like a Star Trek bridge. Where Captain Kirk and Spock and all them run the Enterprise.”
Trak thought on this, letting the language program run through his head. A good dealof cultural and historical data was included in the chip he’d purchased, but it didn’t include whatever she was talking about. “Who is this Kirk person?”
“It’s a show,” she said, giggling. “A TV show. There were movies, too.” The smile faded. “My dad loved Star Trek.”
Okay, he knew what TV was, but he was far more interested in the complication brewing between her brows at the mention of her father. “Is your father dead?” It was a solid conclusion. She spoke about him in the past tense.
“No,” she said in a flat voice. “Or rather, he may as well be. He’s in jail. Will be, for the rest of his life.”
He hadn’t expected that. “What for?”
“Robbery.” She put on a brittle smile. “Fraud. Wire fraud. Tax evasion. Identity theft. Forgery. Extortion. Money laundering. Aggravated assault. I’m forgetting a few. Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry. “He killed two people, too, but was never charged. I know he did it, though.”
He was curioushowshe knew. “My goodness.” He peered down at her, personally impressed. “What a colorful fellow.”
“My mom took off when I was five, so he ‘raised’ us.” She made little marks in the air with her fingers. “If you want to call it that. It was more like, he made us accessories to his crimes.”
“Us?” Trak knew he was wading into dark waters for her. He had no idea how to navigate them, but he barreled on, more intrigued than he should be. “Who else was there?”
“My brother,” she replied. Her voice softened at the words. “Jimmy is four years younger than me. I was our father’s favorite, unfortunately. He gave me more of an education.”
What a fascinating twist to the story of Anna Baker. “Your father taught you his trade?”
She nodded. “Thanks to him I’m a master at picking pockets and locks and I’m a good shot with a handgun. I’ve never shot anyone,” she added quickly. “The one decent thing my dad did was not implicate me in any of his crimes when they finally nabbed him.” Her hands had clenched together, making her knuckles white.
Trak was not gifted with subtlety, but even he knew this would likely be an inappropriate time to mention how useful those skills would be on any given space station inthese outer quadrants. And it made her infinitelymoreinteresting, which was saying something since he already found her captivating. Her resilience alone, after such a dark childhood, was an impressive feat.
“Well.” She fidgeted, stepping away from him. “That was more than you needed to know about my past.”
He watched the tense line of her back as she moved to the front of the “bridge.” “Actually, I wonder if I could ever hear enough. You are a true fascination, Anna.” He hadn’t planned to word it quite like that. It was smart to take the same no-attachment policy that Virilians had for their ships and apply it to this female. It didn’t matter how interesting she was. The best way to do that was to think of something else. And the curvy outline of her body, silhouetted in the large window, did the trick nicely.
