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One Hundred Twenty-Four
BETHIAH
“What do you mean you have a bounty on your head?” Jerrok snarls at me, stripping the suspension system out of an old chassis with expert hands. He straddles the metal frame with his new limbs—rather shiny new-looking ones—and glares down at me from above. “And you came here to my station? Endangering Sophie?”
I roll my eyes, watching him work. “Oh, get over it, cousin. When do I not have a bounty on my head?” I point at a corner of the frame. “And you missed a spot.”
I expected Jerrok to be grumpy when we got here—he always gets grumpy when those he cares about are in danger—but I’m a little frustrated that he’s scolding me instead of offering solutions.
He continues to glare, even as he swings his leg over the other side of the chassis, bends over, and rips a handful of fresh wiring and components out of the framework. “I just don’t like your carelessness. You know that. You have mates to think about now. You shouldn’t be putting them in danger with your antics.”
Simone taps my shoulder. She’s been quiet this whole time, standing patiently behind me as Jerrok grumps and I snark back. When I turn toward her, she gives me a wary look. “Is this a good time? Do you need me to go back to the ship?”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, and then speak louder. “He’s surly because he cares.”
Jerrok straightens again, tossing a clump of ripped wiring down at my feet. “I’ve worked hard to make this place safe and secure for Sophie. I just don’t want her troubled or afraid that some bounty hunters are going to show up looking for you. And I don’t like surprises. You could have sent a comm that you were heading this way.”
“I did,” I lie, knowing perfectly well that Jerrok never checks his comms. “Didn’t you get it?”
He grunts. “Must have missed it.”
“Must have,” I reply cheerfully. “So the way I look at it is like this. You’re family. We might gripe and not get along, but at the end of the day, we help each other out, right? Like that time I got Sophie that carinoux kitten? I got it because I thought of you and her. I think that thing is worth the price of a ship you were going to scrap anyhow.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Nice try. What are you getting at?”
“I like to think we’re even. Or if you want, I’ll even owe you one in the future. Once Jamef is fully repaired, I will absolutely bring you back a ship to scrap, even if I have to steal it out from underneath someone. Thing is, I need help right now. We can stand here playing our games where you’re grumpy at me and I keep avoiding responsibility, or we can get down to business and actually help my mate. I know which one I want to do.”
He jumps down from the chassis with ease, a movement he couldn’t have done two years ago. Huh. His new limbs are a definite improvement. I feel a surge of wistfulness as he straightens and moves towards me, because Jamef’s had struggles with his leg for so long and I never realized. Am I just used to people having terrible prosthetics because Jerrok did for so long and never complained? Are my standards skewed? Or am I just that unobservant? I don’t like the thought.
“You’re not usually so direct,” Jerrok tells me, his gaze piercing.
“I’m not,” I agree. “I keffed up and stole a ship. That’s on me. But I really do need your help. If I could do it on my own, you know I would.”
He grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze goes to Simone, who has retreated a few steps and is pretending to be extremely interested in a pile of junk off to the side. “You pay me back for the ship when you can afford it,” Jerrok says. “And don’t take without asking again.”
“Of course.”
“And when you head to Risda, get Sophie some seeds. And some fresh fruit. She’s got a hankering for some fruit lately. I don’t care how much it costs, just get everything you can.”
I nod.
He pauses for a moment, and then reaches out and pulls me into a tight hug. I’m so startled by this show of affection from Jerrok—Jerrok, of all people—that I don’t dare move. He pats my back and then releases me. “I’m glad you came to us, even if I want to keffing strangle you sometimes.”
“Everyone that loves me feels that way sometimes,” I manage. “But thank you.”
Jerrok nods, indicating I should follow him out of his work room and into the station proper. “Come on. We’ll put in a comm to Zakoar of the Broken Back. He operates out of Three Nebulas —”
