Under the Weeds Near the Pond

By Lee Anne Weltsch

     A close friend locked up behind bars. Another friend had gone missing with her interstellar freighter torn to pieces.

Thirty-one-year-old Chasse Domuzu is thrown into the horrific world of human/alien trafficking, weaponized DNA viruses, and child abduction.

     When Ameera Vintebras was caught smuggling contraband, Domuzu had to take over her cargo hauling business, ships, and crews. When best-friend Shakka Thuras came missing, Domuzu stored the remaining pieces of the fastest ship in the universe, the Redline Overload, into a private warehouse.

     It's the Earth year 2331. With the help of some new friends, Domuzu began tearing up the universe hunting for Thuras. Can she keep herself and the Deluxe crew alive? Or will it all come to an end under the weeds near the pond?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Anne Weltsch
• Release date: Nov 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201871437

Book preview

Prologue

IT WAS THE RED-HOT stab in her left side that jerked Chasse around. She flung out a tensed elbow with a doubled fist only to be caught up in a fibrous web draped from the ceiling. Her bare left foot dragged a heavy chain that threw her off balance. Drenched in sweat and panting, somehow, she was still standing.

She felt mired down and drugged with slow reflexes when she should have been jumpy and fast. It was as if she was slow to come awake, they must have slipped something to her. But now, she had no time to waste.

It was a fight that injected adrenaline mixed with trepidation into her blood stream. She should have seen this coming. She squeezed the blue eyes tight to clear the mucus then tried to gauge the distance to the nearest man. They were trying to kill her inch by inch.

Just grab one of them. They'll make a mistake and tighten my hands on one of them, she thought. I'll snap one, put down the other and be gone. Gotta be smart about this one.

The mechanical engineering access closet was unheated and the air icy cold cut through her blood and sweat streaked face. As she clenched both fists, she looked down, flinching and saw her bare foot sloshing in the shiny oily watery film. Old satchels, duffle bags and shredded clothes littered the edge. Two sets of handcuffs were locked into the steel beam. This was their killing field. And they were trying to make her their next.

Both men had slinked back into the dark shadows to nurse their wounds. Chasse could hear metal scraping on metal. The lock on the door made an audible click. A piece of wood protested metal over to the right side. Chasse brought her eyes around to look at the noise. There were no windows. That didn't matter because it was always night in deep space. The two lone bulbs flickered as they hung fifteen feet up. She was locked in with the killers.

It was the smell of sweet, metallic blood mixed with a bitter stench that made her grimace. Ugly jagged dark blotches crept down two of the walls directly below the glinting cuffs. The other wall was full of tall, narrow metal panel doors, some ajar, some with broken hinges. A half-broken wood pallet sat wrecked in the corner. Assorted black corona wire spools, crumpled cardboard boxes and strewn papers. Nobody checks the mechanical room. Nobody looks to see if anything changes because nothing ever does. This was where these two brought their victims. This is where she would leave them.

The shot caller watched Chasse with dark, squinting eyes. Reddish brown wavy hair hung in greasy hanks. A receding chin sported a reddish stubble beard under the frowning brow. Although he was strong, the man didn't have the flexible body strength or cat-like moves of Chasse from years of escaping bad situations.

The shorter man had turned away to rustle through a box. Weak with distorted facial features, this bully relied on surprise, weapons, and other people's mistakes. That didn't matter now. Every moment they delayed let the churning rage boil higher inside of Chasse. Who they were didn't matter any longer. How she would put them on the floor and a walk away would wipe them from her life.

They had torn apart one ship, murdered the captain and the crew in their hunt for stones. Ingeniously hidden recording devices disguised as diamonds that would bring the death penalty in any court. Chasse took possession of the Redline Overload, the ship of her long-time friend. Now their sights were set on tearing down Chasse to find the stones.

Chasse took in a few deep breaths and flexed her shoulders. That sour bile taste had crept into her mouth which had always been the fight signal. A blood trickle slid down her right temple. It was her hands and fingers she loosened and squeezed. A sudden shiver made her roll her head around. She automatically went up on her toes.

Wood snapped and when Chasse pivoted to look at the noise, she felt a slender piece of leather try to snake around her right arm. Grabbing the strand, Chasse pulled hard and heard a yelp. Her heart pounded harder as the second man stumbled in half-falling against Chasse. Half a second later the leather twisted around the neck, tangling in the beard and the street fighter pivoted, lifting the man off the floor.

Her lower jaw sprayed blood down her chin as her Verdigen fangs unfurled. Enough deadly venom to kill every person on the station began to ooze over her lips. Joints popped, tendons strained, and lightning raced through her veins.

Chasse strained to heave the gurgling, kicking man up and bounced him three times. A strong kick to her left knee made her drop the choking body only to grab out at the shot caller. A hand tangled in the long hair and Chasse jerked backwards, pulling him in close. Another red-hot searing streak along her thigh made Chasse growl. She stomped hard on the foot and felt the weight shift. It was a quick twist, a grunt and a bone snapped. Chasse let the man's body slide to the floor.

One down. One to go, she thought.

Others had died here in this secret hidey hole. Others had become gristle and fodder for these two men who luxuriated in the misery others.

Chasse rubbed her left hand against the side of her jeans to find it soaked in her own coagulation. She tried to wipe away the blood, but her fingers looked like they had been dipped in red paint. A new hatred, the Verdigen fury was rising in her. This was above and beyond a simple killing.

Chasse could hear the coughing and spitting from the first man who had dragged himself over into the darkness. There was metallic scrapping then an iron chain dragged across cement.

From a pile of rags in the corner, Chasse tore off a strip and jammed it in against the bleeding slash on her side. Her fingers probed her screaming left knee as she leaned more weight onto it.

Something came rattling, skittering across the floor. It was her Marsh folding knife. Chasse picked up a broken wooden spool and heaved it into the shadows and then dove for the knife. Rolling, her left thumb pressed the blade release as she dropped the knife into her right hand.

It was a dull glint streaking by Chasse’s face that made her dodge left as she brought up his hand.

I'm gonna need the doc when I get outta here.

She crouched and strained her eyes to peer into the shadows. Every nerve was tingling.

There was a groan near the hatch and Chasse took a step back against the lockers. Her fingers found the small padlock on the chain around her ankle. She needed a crowbar and a hammer. If she didn't get that off, it would mean she'd lose, she'd fail.

She lifted one of the broken doors off the floor and tossed it towards the hatch. It skittered against the wall. The bank of lockers was loose from the wall, and she pushed against the end door and it snapped, leaving a jagged metal edge.

I'm making too much noise. He can target me standing here. Best move now, she thought.

Carrying the chain, Chasse edged around to the right about ten feet. Her foot stepped into a pile of loose metal, scattering the round parts. A second later a heavy iron bar flew past her head and Chasse ducked.

At least it was the right size for what she needed. With slow care, she bent down and scanned for other tools. An open-ended wrench. That would work. She'd have one shot at breaking the lock or the chain before the other man was on top of her.

The scratching sound got louder. She inserted the knife blade into the lock, wiggled in a small iron bar into the link and then wedged in the wrench.

Her back muscles were sore, like her knees. The bleeding on her side had stopped for the moment. Sweat dripped into her eye, blurring her vision. The heel of her right hand rubbed to clear her sight.

The sudden metallic groan made her scamper to the left as a bank of the old lockers crashed down where she had been crouched. That was too close.

She reached down and held the knife in against the lock key slot and hit the wrench with an old electric drill. The chain dug into her ankle, and she clenched his jaw. The lock popped open, and her fingers rubbed the bloodied flesh.

Now, I'll take the fight to him. Nobody fucks with me and gets a free pass, she thought.

At the hatch door, Chasse used a long metal rod to pull and tug against the handle. Multiple objects flew at her from the far corner.

I see where you're at. It's my turn now.

Using her strength, she wrenched the hatch open. Freedom and life were a foot away. It was an animalistic gurgling cry that came from behind her. Chasse half turned and stepped to the left as a cold brass wrench slammed into the hatch. The next was a hard object impacting the left side of her head.

Dazed, she took one step towards the doorway. She lifted her right arm in defense of the attack she knew was coming.

It was the slender hypodermic needle impaled in her chest that would make her late for dinner. Chasse sank to her knees gripping the needle, her body half in and half out of the killing room. The blackness started to creep up like a rich, velvet blanket on her.

ONE

THE WOOD PANELED WAINSCOTING lent a sophisticated air to the drab private consultation room. Chasse Domuzu sat in one of the wooden chairs and watched her agitated friend, Ameera Vintebras pace the length of the room.

Ameera lifted the long blonde hair back off her shoulder and said, You never know exactly how far you can push it, until you try. That is what I did. I tried and got taken down. The lawyer has all the details and statements for you to read. I will never be a ship captain again. That was one of the stipulations for my sentence. I can serve onboard and own the ship and company, though, which is where you come in.

Domuzu was dressed in black jeans, a red pullover sweater and a black leather jacket to match the heeled booties. She tried waving away the dozens of floating dust mites this only made the air worse. It smelled like fresh paint and mothballs. Ten feet up small lights pointed in circles onto the chipped green tiled floor.

Ameera seemed like she was trying to cram one hundred things into twenty seconds.

"I have asked my business attorney to draw up a partnership agreement between you and me. I want you to keep my business running and Deluxe flying. I do not trust anyone else to do this. So, Chasse, please tell me you will do this for me?"

Ameera leaned both hands onto the table across from Domuzu with a hopeful look. Her long blonde hair was caught up in a messy ponytail. The white, zip-up jumpsuit was meant for a bigger woman, not a size two.

Domuzu blinked as a couple dozen scenarios raced through her mind. She nodded.

"Yes, of course. There are a lot of details I have questions about, but the bottom line is for sure, I’ll keep you in the black and Deluxe profitable."

Ameera had a wide smile and started to speak but Domuzu held up a hand.

What did your crew say when you told them?

I have seven good people that specifically stated they wanted to work with me. They felt they had something to learn in flying with me. These last two years have been amazing with them, and it grinds me to the bone that I let them down.

Domuzu tapped the table with an index finger and frowned. For fifteen years, the two women had worked together, traveled together, played together. They had the funny knack of finishing each other’s sentences. They knew each other’s fears, ambitions, and preferences.

"So, you are saying that you do not want any one of them taking over and running Deluxe?"

Built in 2321, the MV Freighter Deluxe sailed under the Interstellar Commercial flag of the Mars Colonies. A crew of ten ran freight cargo deliveries in-galaxy, across the expanse and out over thirteen sectors of known space. Charcoal gray with brilliant chrome accents, the Deluxe could carry over a thousand metric tons of goods and passengers.

Ameera shook her head.

I gave them all two weeks shore leave while I waited to see if I was going behind bars. I worked hard to negotiate a suspension and a simple fine. The crew suspected I was in trouble. I had the attorney draft a preliminary job offer based on this partnership agreement. It is my thought that some of the team will walk and take a severance package with them while those that stay will earn a hire-on bonus equal to the severance.

Domuzu took a deep breath and let it out as she tapped the table.

So, three, maybe four of them will walk? Okay, I can bring in my own people. I would like to keep your senior people, though.

Domuzu frowned.

What do you want me to tell the clients?

"Tell them there is a new partner for shipping and freight processing on Deluxe. Any calls and inquiries coming into my business will be automatically archived via the computer system. You will need to respond to all of them. There are still seven deliveries to be completed by the end of the week. Look them in the eye, shake their hand and let them know Deluxe is still up and running."

The captain looked at the brand-new inmate.

I take it your attorney is holding onto the procedure manual, owner’s manual and the code book for the systems?

Ameera nodded as she said, Antonio Berengraftson. He is in the next room and will come in after they take me out. His fees have been paid. Do not let him talk you into giving fees and services. Chasse. You and I have been across millions of miles together out there. I really need you to do this for me.

Domuzu folded her hands onto the cold, metal table.

Are you dating anyone? Seeing anyone on a regular basis? I would like to know if someone will be calling asking about you.

Ameera hung her head and squeezed her eyes together tightly.

Her voice began to shake. Funny enough, I had met someone who was the jelly to my peanut butter. We fit hand in glove. Anton Hanblecellini. He is a Takim from a planet called Caravenno in Sector Five. There is an ugly black snake of suspicion that says he was significant in setting me up for this jail time. He introduced me to several others who do not like to be seen in the light of day if you get my drift. I made a full statement on this. You can read about it at another time. If he contacts you, put him in a stainless-steel stasis pod and weld him to a meteor headed due south.

She shrugged and wrung her hands together.

Domuzu said, "I can think of far worse things he deserves. It might be prudent for me to warehouse the Coruscant and utilize Deluxe’s speed. I might need to run both ships and two crews. Who knows?"

Domuzu had owned and operated MV Freight Coruscant like the Deluxe. Freight and passengers out over the expanses and into nineteen sectors. More of a utilitarian freighter, the ship ran with nine crew. Not as big or as fast as the Deluxe, Domuzu was known for competently and discreetly hauling anything if the bill was paid.

Ameera looked at the locked door and started to say something but stopped.

Domuzu said, I will try to be in the neighborhood when you get out of the big house. You keep your butt alive and kicking for the next five years. You should buy a lottery ticket before you go behind the steel doors because at that point every ounce of your luck runs out, babe.

Ameera took a deep breath with a quick smile and her nails clicked against the table.

Yeah. That. Well, there is a good reason for that. Two years ago, you and I were out somewhere, drinking, carousing around and you borrowed two hundred credits for shoes or liquor or something. Remember?

Domuzu squinted at the thought. Vaguely. Thankfully, I have a selective memory for my carousing.

They both laughed.

"I recorded a mechanic’s lien on the Deluxe ownership title for that two hundred that was never repaid back to me. With me going into incarceration, legally, you will become the operating owner of Deluxe."

It was a pained smile on Ameera’s face.

Domuzu felt her mouth drop open and her eyes widened. She raised her eyebrows.

Oh. Well.

Domuzu cleared her throat.

There was a knock on the opaque glass in the door. A uniformed male deputy took one step in.

Five more minutes, Ms. Vintebras. Better start wrapping this up.

The door clicked closed.

My personal escort to the much-heralded incarceration and treatment center of Vasylauro. I will be lucky if I’ll find anyone who speaks English.

Domuzu smirked. Resort to sock puppets. Everyone understands sock puppets. Do you need anything else? Cash, candy, trashy magazines?

Vintebras chuckled. I have already deposited a million credits into a fund that my attorney will portion out and send to me each month. I am just going to keep my head down, keep my mouth shut and do my time. If you need anything, tell the attorney. He will get an answer for you.

Domuzu stood up. The friends hugged. One had been living life out on the edge at the end of a thread. The other stuck to the safety rail like glue. Together they could end up six sectors away from where they started and wake up wearing a tee shirt from some place they’d never heard of. It was the warm softness of Ameera’s hand that Domuzu committed to memory as the door closed.

Domuzu’s eyes teared up at the same time both her fists clenched. You play with the bull; you can catch the horns. The reward for this risk must have been sky high. But not so high that Ameera had a chance to grab it. She wiped her eyes and then rubbed them hard.

Hello?

The side door had opened, and a man stepped in.

Ms. Domuzu, I am Antonio Berengraftson. I am the legal counsel representing Ameera Vintebras.

Good afternoon, Mr. Berengraftson. We have a lot of things to go over. Please sit down.

Gray eyes rimmed in red. A thin comb-over a shing pate underneath. Expensive shirt, suit, and shoes. Round silver cufflinks. He set up two leather briefcases on the table and opened both. He put on metal framed glasses.

An hour and one half later, Domuzu’s hand had started to cramp from all the signing. The lawyer requested water and coffees brought in and they worked through more documents. Real estate on five planets. Four ships ranging from a personal racing yacht to the marine vessel freighter Deluxe. Partnerships in business enterprises in four sectors. Ameera had been a busy bee.

"Mr. Berengraftson, I would like you to set up an all staff meeting with the Deluxe crew, yourself, and myself for 3:00PM tomorrow afternoon. Attendance is mandatory for continued employment with Vintebras Enterprises. Ameera told me there might be several crew members who will walk away. I understand a severance package has been set up for that possibility."

The attorney had been scribbling rapidly on a white paper pad with a thin silver ink pen. He looked up listening intently.

Yes, ma’am. That did strike me as a prudent idea. I doubt anyone wants a disgruntled employee hanging about. Anything else?

No, I am having difficulty thinking past the immediate for now. As time goes on, I will probably contact you for some answers. I appreciate your patience.

The attorney stood and closed the leather briefcase on his left. Gently, he laid it on the table next to Domuzu.

I would think that the answers to many of your questions can be found in this case. Do not lose it. There are vital security accesses as well as Ameera’s personal information. Again, you can always contact me with any questions.

The captain thanked the attorney and settled the case on the floor next to her chair.

I believe you have all my contact information. Depending on where I am flying, it might take a day for me to get any messages. I will get back to you.

The man stood, buttoned his jacket, made a quick nod to Captain Domuzu, and then went out.

TWO

THERE WAS SUBTLE WHOOSH as Domuzu stepped from the Interstellar Justice Center onto the promenade.

The Silver Array was ninety kilometers long and twenty kilometers wide communications array that relayed and boosted communication signals across ten sectors. It was incredibly powerful. Also, at the center was a two-kilometer-long passenger terminal with travel connections out to over one hundred sectors in all directions. Originally built by an unknown advanced alien race, then abandoned, it is currently maintained by nine Earth corporations and Mars military. On any given day there could be over two hundred ships of all shapes and sizes docked.

Domuzu sat on one of the wrought iron benches waiting for the numbness to clear. This was too much information overload and she had felt the trembling starting.

Five years. Ameera would be gone for five years. Well, not really gone. She would be ensconced two light years away in a detention center. She was in no danger from anyone now. Her lawyer had made the payments across whichever sweaty palms were out so Ameera would be comfortable. She was a people person and would mentally starve without interactions with others,

As she frowned, Domuzu became aware of a presence directly behind her.

May I help you with something? she asked.

I did not wish to disturb your pondering, Chasse Domuzu. We have not been introduced yet and I am one for protocol, said the raspy male voice.

The captain nodded and folded her hands onto her lap. This was not the first time someone or something had tried to sneak up on her.

The most pertinent information I have for you is to reassure you Ameera will live quietly and comfortably during the incarceration. There are people in there that have a personal stake in her staying alive. I am sorry I cannot be more specific about this. I hope this brings you hope and better understanding, said the man.

Domuzu nodded and started to fuss with the nails on her right hand.

Thank you for your time, Chasse Domuzu.

Domuzu bowed her head for a long moment and faintly detected a slight pressure shift. Then sharply focused her eyes to the reflections of the shop windows across the way. A tall lean figure in black slowly faded out until nothing was there.

Domuzu stood and stretched out her arms, flexing her fingers. She tapped her left wrist twice. It was a big ball and she needed to get it rolling immediately.

YES, CAPTAIN, JHEENSLEY’S voice came through the device. The executive administrator for Domuzu’s ship was a bright young woman with long black hair and greenish eyes flecked with purple.

The Coruscant is completely unloaded, right? For nine years, the Marine Freighter Coruscant has served Domuzu with excellence in motion.

Yes, now unloaded. I believe Mr. Caut is now pressure washing cargo bay two. Cargo bay one was done earlier and sealed.

Thank you. That is what I wanted to know. Jheensley, I want you to notify all hands of a meeting here aboard the Coruscant at 6:00PM tonight. I have news on freighter developments with the Freighter Deluxe and it will affect the Coruscant crew.

Alright. Where do you want to hold the meeting, captain?

Set up the mess hall with tables and chairs. I want everyone to sit down for this. Would you also order snacks? I have a feeling we’ll be talking for over an hour. Beer and wines are okay for this meeting.

I have to make a stop here on the promenade before I come back to the ship, said Domuzu.

There were a few seconds of staticky crackling over the comm.

One more thing, Jheensley. This is casual, no need to dress up. In fact, those dress uniforms will be required tomorrow as I am taking all of you over to the Deluxe for a group meeting.

Casual tonight. Dress uniforms tomorrow. Got it, Captain.

Domuzu out.

THE CORUSCANT CREW rose to stand when Domuzu entered the mess hall.

Please be seated. And I want to add my thanks and appreciation for another successful run out into the stars, there was a smile in her voice.

It took an hour and a half to fully explain Ameera’s situation and the possibilities with the Deluxe. Straight to the point. No fluff.

Here’s the big question: Do we run freight on both Coruscant and Deluxe or do we mothball Coruscant and run freight with the bigger, faster Deluxe?

The group was quiet for a long moment. Cargo Master Caut rose to fill a glass of beer and stood against the galley wall.

None of us have our captain’s license, to my knowledge. We should look outside to find a freighter captain for Coruscant, he questioned the group. They shook their heads.

Jheensley raised her left hand.

I have completed ten courses through the captain’s program, and I have two courses and exams more to go. If it all works out, I will have my license right after the first of the new year.

She pumped her fist into the air, grinning.

Applause, congratulations, hands shaking and smiles.

We are very proud of you, Jheensley, keep up the excellent work.

Domuzu smiled.

"Tomorrow at quarter of three in the afternoon, I will meet with the Deluxe crew on board along with Ameera’s attorney. I want all of you there at that meeting so there are no surprises, and you hear everything firsthand."

It was a longer evening than ever before. The crew had known Ameera Vintebras not just as a captain of a top freight ship, but as the rock-solid friend of Chasse Domuzu. In between bites of sandwiches and pizza, they acknowledged the confusion and pain, which in turn helped Domuzu in coming to terms with it.

AT 3:00PM STATION TIME, the Deluxe hatch opened, and Mr. Terrael Haymon welcomed Domuzu and the Coruscant crew. Six feet six with reddish-brown hair and neatly trimmed beard. He had a beautiful white smile and glacier blue eyes.

Captain, welcome aboard. Good to see everyone. We are set up in the forward crew lounge. I am afraid we didn’t dress up though, Captain. Please follow me.

The conversation volume toned down immediately when Haymon lead Domuzu and crew into the room.

Chase stood behind a long table where a seated Antonio Berengraftson had opened the black briefcase and stacked papers and envelopes,

Thank you all for agreeing to meet today with me. I have important news regarding your employer, Ameera Vintebras. Please allow me to introduce Antonio Berengraftson. He is the attorney for Vintebras Enterprises. He is here to help you understand what is happening here.

Clad in tan slacks and a blue blazer, the attorney rose and made a quick wave with his hand. He sat down and cleared his throat.

I know you have a hundred questions; I know I sure did, Domuzu said.

A hand raised.

Where is Captain Vintebras? Why is she not here with you?

Domuzu nodded and clasped her hands in front of her stomach.

Please let me explain that now. On Tuesday, when the Deluxe docked here on the Silver Array, the Interstellar Justice detectives met with Captain Vintebras, and she was taken into custody on an assortment of charges. The captain and attorney Berengraftson appeared before the magistrate and a jury panel. She was found guilty of charges and sentenced to five-year incarceration.

Three of the crew stood and paced around the room in anger and surprise.

Domuzu watched the pacing men for a moment.

Gentlemen, please take your seats. I have more to tell you. Then Mr. Berengraftson will speak to you.

"Captain Vintebras wants the Deluxe to continue in the freight hauling business and to be a thriving business concern when her prison term is completed. She has entrusted the ownership and care over to me so that I can continue her business venture. I am now the owner and operator of the Marine Freight Vessel Deluxe, as well as the entire holdings of Vintebras Enterprises."

A hand went up from a man in the back.

Captain Domuzu, I am Pasharran Gado, a cargo mate. Do we still have jobs? What about our paychecks?

Domuzu held up her left hand.

That was the exact question I had right off the top. Mr. Berengraftson has your paychecks paid through midnight tonight and now I will have him explain how this is going to work. Mr. Berengraftson, please.

The attorney took a sip of the water and buttoned his jacket as he looked around the lounge.

Hello, as Captain Domuzu stated, I am the attorney for Vintebras Enterprises. Rest assured I do have your paychecks here.

He patted the tall stack of white envelopes.

Who is the executive administrator for your ship?

Most of the crew looked at the floor and several shook their heads. The attorney fumbled through a short stack of papers and looked up.

Ms. Azza Connor? Are you here? Please stand?

Haymon’s hand went up and he stood.

Captain Domuzu, I ‘m not sure what happened to Azza, but she did not return to the ship when we departed the last stop, Trellabano Station. None of us have heard from her either.

He gestured to his crew mates, and they shook their heads.

Domuzu shifted her weight to her other foot.

The attorney cleared his throat.

Alright then. We can do this one at a time. In with your paycheck, you will find a document effectively terminating your employment with Vintebras Enterprises. I have here on the table new employment applications for Domuzu Freight and Cargo Enterprises. Once that application is completed and returned to me, you will instantly become an employee of Captain Domuzu’s company. We hope that you will choose to come onboard with us.

I have a question, please? I am Hiyamme Orlorrest, the helmsman and pilot for Deluxe. What happens if we choose to not fill out the other application? Are we free to go?

Domuzu stepped out from behind the table.

THREE

YES, AFTER YOU CLEAN out your personal belongings from your quarters. You are free to go. Some of you might have personal containers in the cargo bay and you will need to remove those by midnight tonight.

She held out a hand.

You are the crew that has helped Ameera Vintebras become and maintain an enviable commercial success. You have a vast array of immediate knowledge on running this sophisticated ship, of delivering cargo, of handling passengers. I do not want to lose that. It has a significant value to me.

As Mr. Berengraftson handed out the pay envelope, Domuzu noted that four of the Deluxe crew had friendships with the Coruscant crew. Smiles and handshakes helped to create a friendly atmosphere.

Domuzu picked up the clipboard from the table.

"According to the shipping manifests, Deluxe has seven remaining freight drops. I want to leave Friday morning at 6:00AM to get those completed. I have asked the Coruscant crew to ride along and learn your techniques."

Mr. Berengraftson walked back to the captain and handed her the paycheck envelope for Azza Connor. It made the captain frown.

Two Deluxe crew members approached the table and thanked the captain for speaking and then left. After an hour, Domuzu dismissed her crew and walked with the attorney out to the main hatch.

Thank you for being here, Mr. Berengraftson. I am certain this went smoother with an attorney present, said Domuzu.

My pleasure, captain. Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions.

DOMUZU TOSSED AND TURNED in the night. At 5:00AM she finally fell into a deep sleep until 9:00AM. Too many details left untended made the back of her neck hurt from the stress.

Three messages from her boyfriend, Rocky Tisoffmer. She stared at the blinking notice on the screen and realized that she needed to have a blunt conversation with him about their future. Rocky kept pushing her to give up interstellar freight, sell the business and settle into a comfortable apartment on Mars. She shook her head and scrolled on to the other messages waiting. The bottom message was from the attorney.

Of the seven Deluxe crew, three had handed in their Domuzu employment applications. Cuvelo Jacunna was the main Deluxe