Page 64 of Ren: Warlord Brides
She snorted, an inelegant noise and utterly charming. “Man, you are so off base. I am a classic curmudgeon, but that’s sweet of you. I’dliketo think I’m a good judge of character and can tell when I’m working for a war criminal, but I guess not.” Then, in a slightly quieter tone, she said, “Gemma is always trusting people she shouldn’t, too.”
His mate inspected the necklace again before fastening it around Mittens’ neck like a collar. “I think Miss Murder here should wear it for safekeeping.”
Emry
“Is it supposed to be that color?” Emry held the filter between her thumb and index fingers. Black and dripping, it stank like stagnant water.
“Yes,” Ren said. Flat on his back, he stuffed half of himself inside an access panel. Occasionally, a hand reached out for a tool or with an item for her to dispose of.
“Gross.”
“If the algae were red, I’d be alarmed.”
Emry tossed the dirty filter into a bucket of sanitizer. The liquid bubbled.
Only a little disturbing.
“How many more?” she asked.
“Several.”
“Awesome.”
“Clean water is awesome,” he said, oblivious to her sarcasm.
Days into their journey, Emry tagged along with Ren while he did basic ship maintenance and repairs. Apparently, the ship’s systems were a fragile ecosystem that required constant work. Well, Ren hadn’t used those words exactly, but she got the idea. Older machines required more upkeep. Her first car had been a pre-invasion two-door coupe with more rust than paint. It always needed fixing, the radio only worked when it felt like it, and the heater could not be turned off. Eventually, parts were hard to find, and she had to let it go.
She loved that beast of a car. It took her months of saving money from her first job to buy the car. It was freedom, sure, but it was always a tangible thing she earned herself. She understood how Ren got sentimental about his falling-apart ship.
Today they cleaned the water filtration system, which involved switching out gross, slimy filters for clean and scrubbing out the water lines. Mostly, Ren did the smelly work, and she handed him tools.
“I need more tubing.” Ren shimmed out from the maintenance hatch. A smear of black crud decorated his forehead.
She enjoyed assisting Ren, especially when he got excited about some hack he used to fix a busted what’s-it. The technical terms didn’t really stick, but she now knew her socket wrench from the vibroblade.
What she liked about following Ren around with a bucket of slimy water filters was how dirty he got. Sweat, dust, and algae clung to him. His hair stuck in the back from scooting into and out of crawl spaces. If he took off his shirt because he got too hot and she was able to appreciate the black ink that curled up his abdomen… well, being Ren’s assistant had its perks.
Mostly, she appreciated how grimy he got working. Odd, true, but Emry’s working life had been spent sweating and feeling generally gross. Kitchen work was hard. Ovens were hot. She had to wear layers to protect herself from burns, which meant that Emry ended her shifts drenched.
Ren’s work had him just as gross as hers, maybe more because she never wrangled algae-clogged filters. It was something they had in common.
“Hold this. I will remove the clogged tube.”
“Don’t you need to drain it?”
“I do not.” Ren handed her a roll of unused tubing and crawled back into place. Two seconds later, she heard a pop and a gush. Black liquid seeped out onto the floor.
Ren pulled himself out, sputtering and wiping black slime from his face. He flicked the slim off his fingers and glowered at her. “It is not amusing.”
“A little.” Maybe she smirked. Maybe. She was only human.
“Because you laugh at the misfortune of others.”
“No, I’m not laughing! We’re bonding,” she said.
“The gasket failed,” he said.
“You forgot to drain the tube.” She dug out a mostly clean rag from the tool cart and mopped up the worst of the goop. “In the spirit of camaraderie, have I ever told you about the time I set a pan on fire?”
