Pixie Hazard Archibald Bradford (sneezy the snowman read aloud txt) 📖

were keen to get as far away from the disastrous encounter as possible.

The entire bridge crew had been as raw about Derrick’s death as the commodore so except for Dwight they had taken part in the assault on the lonely rock.

And without them the three survivors stood no chance in a firefight with the Pixie Hazard and her competent fire control officer.

Hell, two of them couldn’t spell ‘FCO’ if their life depended on it.

So using the nav-log, Dwight had directed the ship back to the controlled space around Mung Station, giving himself more time to mull over their options as they waited to come back into normal space.

“We can try to make contact with the other ships in the clan, but I don’t like our chances of surviving that conversation, not if word gets out that we bailed on the others.” He reasoned out loud.

“I ain’t saying shit.”

“Me neither.”

The mood of his crewmates settled the matter.

“Good. That’s that then. My thinking is that the rest of the captains will be too busy fighting over who gets to wear the commodore’s dress to bother chasing after us. So best we can do is mosey on our way, pawn everything on this ship what ain’t nailed down, and part as friends.”

He left out that he was angling to keep the ship for himself, at least long enough to say goodbye to the dead weight onboard somehow and turn around and sell it for a sizable fortune.

As far as he saw it: the commodore had promised him pussy and had failed to deliver on said promise, so if he sold the drag-queen’s beloved ship in order to fund a lavish lifestyle for himself for a little while... well, who could blame him?

Plan firmly in mind, he gave another determined nod.

“Okay, now listen. We’ll be coming back into normal space any sec-”

Dwight the navigator didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did he get to sell off the brilliantly painted Howling Dragon.

Hard to get anything done at all when you come out of slipspace inside a drone-operated supertanker.

Particularly one whose cargo was, rather poetically, a fresh batch of slipspace fuel headed to resupply Mung Station.

If anyone had been looking in that bit of open space when the two ships met they would have thought a star was being born.

But no one was looking, and no one cared.

To the Iowa clan the disappearance of the Howling Dragon and its colourful commander would become something of a legend, a campfire story to tell the greenhorns looking to become part of the clan.

Meanwhile to the Juan Corporation’s big wigs the loss of the tanker was a lonely red mark in the minus column on a single page of their digital ledgers.

And there were a lot of other pages.

Chapter 35:Recuperation

Despite Billy’s optimism about Maria’s prospects, Donnie felt a lot better once she and the others got the wounded woman into the infirmary so that their doctor could do her job properly.

The good news was they no longer had to make it look like a Junker clan had raided the hidden station, so after they snagged a couple of valuables that wouldn’t be missed by anyone Davie sent out a broad-band distress call via the facilities improvised communications room.

Then it was time to get the hell out of dodge before the cavalry from Outerlight Union arrived.

Stepping out of her personal shower, Donnie leaned on the sink as she took in the sight of herself in the mirror.

She winced at what she saw.

She had numerous bruises from being knocked around by the Junkers’ repeaters, the worst of which were on her right breast, which hurt.

With one hand she rubbed at it tenderly, but she immediately sucked in a lungful of air from the agony of it, involuntary tears streaming down her face.

A moment later though her bruises were forgotten when the image of Maria’s prone form on the floor of the lab popped into her head unbidden.

She punched the mirror with a feral snarl in denial of the memory.

The plex-glass held, so she didn’t need stitches, but her knuckles throbbed all the same as she broke down, letting out a harsh sob as her emotions overcame her.

Burying her face in her hands she was truly torn: part of her wished Bunny was there to cling to, while another part didn’t want the loving creature anywhere near her while she was in such a state.

But the K’or-Macka wasn’t her only dear friend.

“Hey.” Billy said from the door.

Reflexively Donnie’s fists came up as her adrenaline spiked and her training took over.

The doctor held both hands up so show that she meant no harm, then handed the naked captain a cold pack.

“For the girls.” Her eyes flicked down to Donnie’s bruised tit for a moment; “Knew you’d be hiding from me.”

The captain’s rigid posture relaxed as she took the cold pack and set it down on a shelf while she washed the mess of tears from her face.

“Thanks.” She finally said awkwardly.

Ultimately she was more self-conscious about being emotionally naked than physically, but they both knew that Billy had seen her in worse shape.

Like the day Eniella lost her arm.

The medic didn’t say anything, just leaned against the hatchway and watched the captain break open the hidden packets within the cold compress before pressing it to her aching breast with a hissing groan.

“That the only reason you snuck into my bathroom?” Donnie asked plaintively.

Billy smiled, if faintly.

“I’ve treated Eva’s burns and Maria is stable. I can’t do the grafts until the nanites are finished their routines. Eniella needs a moment in the armoury. It’s about the tracker.”

They stepped out into her quarters so that Donnie could get dressed.

“Almost forgot about that. Did she find