“It’s hardly minor, this is going to take me all day to—”
“It’s minor,” Ashby repeated. “You lost one apparatus out of six. Fuel is still pumping, right?”
Corbin scowled. “Yes. But it’s a matter of—”
“Okay. So, in the future, you—” he pointed at Corbin “—need to tell Sissix about any equipment changes you make, because you cannot expect her to be psychically aware of what goes on in this lab. And you do not use that word aboard my ship, do you understand? Not to Sissix, not to anyone else. It is completely unacceptable. You apologize to her right now.”
“I didn’t—”
“Right. Now.”
Corbin’s face went even redder. “I’m… sorry,” he said to Sissix. His voice was tight as a sealing band.
“And you—” Ashby jabbed a finger at Sissix—“need to go way easier when making speed jumps, because there’s no way that cap should’ve burned out that fast.”
“We’re running behind,” Sissix said. “If we don’t—”
“I don’t care if we’re a tenday late. I don’t care if we’re a standard late. I am not going adrift out here, not when we’ve come this far. Be more careful.” He stared them both down. “I am only going to say this one more time. Get over whatever this pissing match is between the two of you. It is driving me crazy. It is driving the rest of your crew crazy. I know this has been a long haul, and I know we’re all tired, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to fly the rest of the way to the Core listening to you two scream at each other. Work it out. If you can’t, fake it. I do not want to have this conversation—”
The vox snapped on. “Hey, Ashby.” It was Kizzy. “Um, so, I kind of need you for something.”
“Can it wait?”
“Well, um, not so much, no, but maybe I could tell him—”
“Tell who what?”
There was a shuffling sound. Rosemary’s voice replaced Kizzy’s. “Ashby, we’ve got a Quelin enforcer on hold up here.”
He could hear Kizzy talking in the background. “Do you think I made him mad? I can’t tell, ’cause their faces don’t move.”
Ashby sighed and closed his eyes. “Lovey, transfer the call down here.”
Corbin stepped aside as Ashby took a seat at his desk. The pixels leapt into place. A male Quelin stared back, his armored face inscrutable, his black eyes shining.
“This is Captain Ashby Santoso. How can I help you?”
“This is Enforcer Bevel of the Interstellar Defense Bureau. As is stated in Section 36-28 of the Border Security Amendment, you are subject to a full search of your vessel and an inspection of all crew members.”
“We were already scanned when we entered Quelin space. Have we done anything wrong?”
“As was stated, this is a random search. The Interstellar Defense Bureau has the right to search any and all vessels at our discretion, regardless of probable cause.”
“I trust that my clerk has sent you our tunneling license and flight plan?”
“We have received the required materials, and your right to travel within our space has been confirmed.”
“Not to be difficult, but we’re on a tight schedule. Do I have the right to refuse this search?”
“Refusal will result in possible impounding of your vessel and incarceration of all persons aboard. Failure to comply with inspection officers is a violation of our GC membership agreement and is subject to prosecution under Executive Order 226-09.”
“I guess we’ll look forward to seeing you on board, then.”
“Prepare to be boarded in ten minutes,” said Officer Bevel. The pixels scattered as the call ended.
“What a charming guy,” Jenks said. “Bet he’s great fun at parties.”
“Only if he has the proper formwork for it,” Ashby said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Pain in the ass.”
The freight elevator doors clanked open. Rosemary and Kizzy hopped out. “Is everything okay?” Kizzy said. “Did I get us in trouble? I really shouldn’t answer calls ever, I get all stupid—”
“Nobody’s in trouble, but we have to let them do another search.”
“Why?”
“Because they said so, and because they’re Quelin, and because they’re really not the sort of people I want to piss off.”
“I hear on-board searches are a real pain,” Sissix said.
“We were fine on our last search.”
“Yeah, but that was just a basic scan for weapons and illegal tech. Trust me, they’ll search everything. And I hear they do blood screenings, too.”
“Why blood screenings?” Rosemary asked.
Jenks sighed. “Because of that asshole with explosive bots in his blood, I’ll bet. Remember that? That dumb speciest kid a few standards back, tried to prove a point during a border search? Didn’t even program them right. All he did was blow his own head off.”
“Funny how it’s always the speciests who ruin things for everybody else,” Sissix said. Corbin scoffed, but Sissix headed for the door before he could say anything further. “I’ll go get Ohan.”
Ashby’s eyes shifted between Kizzy and Jenks. “Do you two have anything stashed away that might make them freak out? Anything?”
Jenks thought hard. “Don’t think so.”
“Nah,” said Kizzy. “We drank the last of Bear’s homebrew kick last tenday.” She paused. Her hands shot up to her mouth. “Oh, ass!”
“What?” Ashby said.
She slid her hands up to the top of her head and twisted her hair. “I have a bag of smash in with my socks.”
“Good thing you thought of it now. Go toss it in the engine.”
“But…” Kizzy’s shoulders sagged. “You can’t get smash out here. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
Ashby frowned. He was not in the mood for Kizzy reasoning. “This isn’t a debate. Toss it in the engine. Now.”
“Come on, Kiz,” Jenks said. He took her by the wrist and led her back to the freight elevator. “Let’s go do this awful thing.”
“I hate the Quelin,” she said. “They’re stupid and jerks and nobody likes them.” She lowered her voice surreptitiously as they entered the elevator. “If we smoked it now really fast, do you think they’d notice?”
“I can still hear you, Kizzy,” Ashby said.
She pouted. “Can’t blame me for trying,” she said as the doors closed.
Rosemary had seen vids of Quelin before, but even so, she was unprepared for the things that came clattering through the cargo bay doors. She tried to think of a more eloquent descriptor for them, but all she kept coming up with was lobster centaur. Chitinous blue exoskeletons, long horizontal abdomens, segmented torsos covered in jointed limbs, all topped with a mask-like face. Their shells were branded with symbols, studded with polished stones. She knew better than to judge a species by appearances, but between their knobbly looks and the call she’d witnessed earlier, she wasn’t warming up to them.
The rest of the crew looked uneasy as well, which made her feel a little better. It was common knowledge that Quelin were typically xenophobic, and it was rare to see them anywhere other than in their own space. Their inclusion in the GC was an arrangement of convenience, or so Rosemary had read. The Quelin had huge caches of natural resources at their disposal, and had been originally brought into the GC by the Harmagians, who had plenty of money and fancy tech to offer in exchange. Not that the Quelin and the Harmagians actually liked each other. It was funny how the potential for profit always seemed to trump antipathy.