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“Welcome on board,” I say, gesturing at the ship I just spent hours cleaning. It’s never been so tidy, but she’s looking at it with the same expression of distaste I use when I find Bethiah’s crumbs all over the countertops. “Are you just visiting, or…”

“She’s staying with us until our bounty is completed,” Jamef says, his tone even and reassuring.

Oh. An employer. That makes things so much better. Relieved, I beam a smile at her. “Well, I’m delighted to meet you. We just had some guest quarters added on so you get to be the first one to break them in.”

“Lucky me,” the woman murmurs, staring around her with chagrin. Her gaze settles on me again and she gives me a polite smile. “Which one do you belong to? Or do you service everyone that comes on board the ship?”

“You mean, am I a maid?”

She gives me a little condescending smile. “Sure. A maid.”

Why am I getting so angry? She’s just an employer, and a snotty one. I’ve been treated worse by aliens, and I shouldn’t expect much from a human that clearly lives among them. “I live here. With Bethiah and Jamef. We’re together.”

“A human on a pirate crew? How charming and very Bethy.” She chuckles.

Bethy?

The fuck???

Oh, we are having some serious conversations the moment I get the two of my mates alone.

Eighty

DORA

I clear my throat. “Bethy?” I ask, wanting to know. “Bethy” sounds like someone that’s sweet and cheery. Someone that is wide-eyed and innocent. A pet name. A cutesy name. It does not sound like the Bethiah I know. And I don’t like it one bit. “Did I hear that right?”

The woman giggles, the sound tinkling and perfect, and she sweeps forward in a bevy of silks. “Does she not go by that anymore, then? What do you call her?”

“Bethiah,” I say. “Sometimes ‘jerkface.’”

She titters, raising a perfect hand to her perfect mouth. “Bethiah it is, then. It’s been a long time since we’ve crossed paths. She must have dropped the diminutive.”

I manage a weak smile. “You knew each other?”

“Oh, a long time ago,” Rhonda says, leaning toward me with a conspiratorial look. “Long before I got so wrinkled.”

Please. If she’s wrinkled, she must not have any mirrors. “You’re perfect. Don’t be silly.”

“I like you,” she says, beaming. “My name is Rhonda, by the way.”

“I’m Dora.”

She turns to look behind her, frowning down at the pile of luggage at the end of the dock. The hover-cart is waiting there, idling, and she looks back at me again. “Do they have you on ship loading duty?”

Do they? No one said anything like that to me. “I hope not. I was told not to go on the docks. It’s not safe for humans.”

“Oh, yes, but you’re not the same as me,” she says sweetly. “You wouldn’t stand out in a crowd, sweetie. Maybe no one would notice you. And my things are very expensive, so someone needs to get them before some thieves run off with them.”

She gives me an expectant look.

I stare back. “I’m pretty sure I’m not to leave the ship, but I can check with Jamef.”

“Check with me about what?” Jamef strolls down the hall back toward where I stand with the woman. He moves immediately to my side and puts his hands on my shoulders, leaning down towards my ear. “Bethiah’s in a mood,” he murmurs. “She needs her space for a bit.”

Oh. What exactly happened down there? I furrow my brows, worried for her. She was in a good mood this morning. I’ll have to go talk to her—and cuddle her—when she emerges. I nod.

“Don’t frown, sweetie,” Rhonda says in a chiding tone. “It causes wrinkles. No one wants a wrinkled human.”

I’m about to reach up and touch my forehead, but Jamef’s hands tighten on my shoulders and I feel him looming over me. He all but growls at her. “I. Do.”

Rhonda blinks up at him—either that, or she’s fluttering her lashes. It’s hard to tell. Just that there’s a lot of lash movement going on. “I see. My apologies, Captain.”

“Jamef. Just Jamef.”

“sa Raan, wasn’t it?” She puts a hand to her shiny hair, smoothing it back. “Isn’t there a station named Raan? Are you by chance related to the governing family?”

He snorts. “No. I have no family. If you’re done with business on the station, we’d like to get going. Docking here for too long costs credits.”

She gestures at the ramp. “I just need my baggage brought on board. Your ship girl, Dora, was going to help me.”

I could swear Jamef growls again. “She’s not a ship girl. Nor is she a slave. She’s part of this crew.”

“Yes,” Rhonda says carefully. “But not part of the crew that assists with baggage? I’m truly not trying to be dense, Captain Jamef. I’m just trying to understand who can help me.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “In the circles I run in, most humans are enslaved. Please forgive me for any misinterpretations.”

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