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“I can see that.”
“I didn’t need assistance from anyone.”
“I bet you can carry that to the back.”
“I can because I’m competent…”
Wheeler stiffened, then swung the manure her way. It was fast, but not fast enough for her heightened senses, allowing her to duck to avoid it. Disgusted sounds came from behind, and they glared at each other before whirling to face Moon, who was covered in the torn bag.
“Wheeler, you idiot!”
“Don’t call me idiot, you teenage punk!”
“Wheeler,” she piped in, “Considering that was meant for me, that is such a dirty move—”
“What the fuck is going on here?”
The fourth voice had them all standing to attention, then relaxing when it was Marko who stepped into view. The man’s annoyed expression, however, told them the relief wasn’t mutual. Tall, reed-thin, and with white hair sticking out haphazardly from his faded yellow bandanna, the only thing he had working for him was the long stick he often carried. He swung it now.
“It’s a long day, and the majority of our crew are trying to get some shut-eye after that harrowing Centro trip. And here ye are making a ruckus!”
She hadn’t come up for the Centro dock since it had happened in the daytime, but Maddox had given her an account over a failed transaction when someone sabotaged the transportation of their goods. That Jasper’s ship had docked first wasn’t a coincidence, either, but at least they managed to acquire fresh water for drinking and limited baths.
“Wheeler started it,” Moon blurted out, pointing.
“I did nothing!” Wheeler pointed at her. “This arrogant little newbie tried to fool me.”
“Let me guess. Ye got fooled easily and got yer little revenge, didn’t ye?”
Wheeler blinked, but the short, stout man couldn’t say anything to that. Not done, Marko turned to Moon.
“And didn’t ye already work this morning and afternoon?”
“I wanted to help out,” Moon mumbled.
“For god’s sake, boy, rest at the proper time, so I don’t catch ye napping here and there. Yer being a pain in the ass. And you!”
“Me?” Nicola echoed.
“Wheeler!” Marko barked out. “Go clean the kitchen and stop bugging everyone here.”
“But—”
“Git! Before ye rouse everyone, and they toss ye in a cell.”
Authority rang out and made it clear that it would be Marko tossing someone in a cell. Wheeler gulped, then hastily made his retreat without grumbling. Moon was next, waving at her.
“And they left a mess. Of course, they did,” the second-in-command muttered.
“I can clean it up.”
“Ye have done enough for tonight. Come.”
She reluctantly followed, trying to come up with an explanation in the ensuing silence.
“Moon didn’t do anything. We were working in peace until Wheeler arrived and disrupted us.”
“Tattletale, aren’t ye?”
