Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(13)

“It’s called a mustache,” Tyler says.

“It’s called disgusting, Goldenboy.”

“It appears as if a skenk crawled onto his lip and expired,” Kal says.

“Right?” Finian agrees. “Human body hair, ugh.”

“Wait,” I hear Aurora say. “You mean Syldrathi don’t grow facial hair?”

“No, be’shmai.”

“… Do you grow it anywhere else?”

“Could we PLEASE,” Tyler says slowly. “Keep our minds. On this job?”

I hear a small chorus of apologies across comms, and I can’t help but smile. Dysfunctional as our little family is, at least it’s starting to feel like a family. I look around the bustling landing pad and do indeed spy a short, shouty man with what seems to be a dead caterpillar glued above his mouth. He’s dressed in a flight suit and magboots. He’s haggard, his face red from roaring at his crew, the bots helping with his cargo, and random passersby. He looks old enough to be my dad.

I mean, Dad died when we were eleven, but you know what I’m saying… .

“All right.” I nod to Zila. “Let’s work some magic.”

“THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC, SCARLETT,” Zila says.

“Watch and learn, my friend.”

We stride up to the Opha May’s captain, our shiny boots ringing on the deck. He doesn’t even glance up from his uniglass.

“Josef Gruber,” I say, using the name Fin hacked off the dockside servers.

“Who’s asking?” the short man replies, still not looking at me.

“By authority of the Terran Registration Act, Article 12, Section B, we are hereby commandeering your vessel.”

Now I’ve got his attention. And as he finally looks up into my face, I’m using all the years of training in the one class I didn’t sleep through to sum him up. I may not have had the best grades. I wasn’t the best shot or tactician or pilot. But Scarlett Isobel Jones is still damn good at what she does. And what she does is People.

He’s running on around four hours’ sleep. It’s been about six months since he was home, and he misses it. I can see one of his eyes is cybernetic, and from the blotching of veins on his nose, he likes a drink. Looking over his craggy face, his stance as he squares up to me, I can feel hostility. Disbelief. And a little bit of fear.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he growls.

“I assure you, Captain Gruber, we are deadly serious.”

He looks around the dock, incredulity fighting with anger.

“We’re sixty million light-years from Terra,” he spits, his lip caterpillar wobbling in fury. “What in the Maker’s name is the GIA doing out here?”

I lean in on his fear button. “As we explained, Captain, we are taking possession of your ship. You are a Terran citizen; your ship is subject to Terran law. Believe me when I say you do not want me to lodge a report of your noncompliance in my mission debrief.”

I hold out one gloved hand. It doesn’t shake. Not even a little bit.

“The passkeys, please.”

Gruber’s crew has stopped working now, gathering around us in a small, hostile semicircle. The captain is glowering up at me. I’m using the same tone of voice as every academy instructor who ever disciplined me for tardiness or chewed me out for late assignments or cited me for talking/sleeping/ making out in class. All those teachers who warned me I’d never amount to anything.

And with a series of curses I’m far too ladylike to repeat, Captain Gruber reaches into his jacket and hands me a set of glowing passkeys.

Shows how much my teachers knew.

“Good work, Sis,” comes Tyler’s voice in my ear.

“I am a Jones.”

“What?” the angry little captain says.

“You and your men have five minutes to remove your personal belongings,” I tell him. “Please ensure the ship is fueled for departure.”

“Five minutes?” he sputters. “What about my cargo?”

“You may lodge compensation forms through the GIA webnode.”

I turn my back, already looking for Ty through the crowd.

“THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION,” Zila tells him.

I can feel the captain’s stare between my shoulder blades. His shame and anger at being taken down in front of his men. But I’ll say one thing for Terran bureaucracy—the last place in the ’Way you want to be is on its bad side. You’d have to be idiots like us to even consider it. And with another curse, Gruber barks at his men to get their things together.

I see Ty and the squad moving through the crowd toward us, and the thrill of my little triumph is warm in my chest. That went even better than I expected. As I smile behind the mirrormask, Zila sidles up to me and whispers.

“THAT WAS …”

“Magic?” I reply.

“REMARKABLE.”

“Yeah. But don’t fall in love with me, Zila. I’ll just break your heart.”

“THAT DOES SEEM CONSISTENT WITH YOUR ROMANTIC MODUS OPERANDI.” She pauses a moment before adding, “YOU ARE ALSO TOO TALL FOR ME.”

I blink at that. “Wait … you like girls?”

Zila shrugs, scanning the crowd. “NOT TALL ONES.”