(On the Hunt) Chapter 17

Pride: On the Hunt

Chapter 17

Questionable Life Decisions

Thanks to a combination of dumb luck and bacon burgers, only two members of the 686 had ended up with hangovers. Sven was not one of them.

Jace, on the other hand, was.

He'd only even had one drink! But something in it had evidently not agreed with him. So now he was sprawled on his back on one of the medtech beds, alternating between a game on his datapad and glaring at the occupied bed next to him. The other member of Team Hangover hadn't made a peep since he hit the pillow. He'd been moaning like he was dying before that, this was preferable… even as that thought went through Jace's mind, the kid started to twitch, and his eyes narrowed. His peace was about to be disturbed.

Daniel slowly blinked himself awake, mentally preparing for the misery to return, and a big smile graced his face when no such feeling came. "Hey Jace!"

Jace slowly turned his head. "What."

"I feel so much better!" Daniel all but squealed.

"Whoop-dee-fucking-doo for you." The kid's voice felt roughly equivalent to a hammer hitting his head. A loud, obnoxious, inexplicably high-pitched hammer. "If you're not sick, you can get the fuck out of my sick bay."

"You know, I always feel so loved when you're in the room," Daniel snarked.

The medic just looked at him. "I must be doing something wrong, then."

Daniel laughed at the response, and kept laughing longer than he probably needed to. It felt so good to laugh and not wish for death. "Are we the only ones who got sick?"

"Apparently. Viking sure didn't. He thinks this is fucking hilarious." Sven had been there earlier to check on them, and to nab Daniel's wanted poster. And to laugh at him a bit, which in fairness, he completely deserved.

"I thought for sure he'd have the worst hangover."

"Guess the one he got from the rift got it out of the way early." Jace grimaced. "Now shut up and get out of here before I have to say something I'll regret, like 'please'."

"You know you love me," Daniel told him as he stood up to make his way out. He paused at the doorway, a big smile back on his face. "Feel better soon!" he yelled, then took off.

Jace stared after him, then sighed. "Yolo Days. What the fuck was I thinking?" he growled, before getting up and flicking the lights off. At least now he could grumpily stare at the ceiling in peace.

Daniel walked into his quarters still wearing the big smile. "I'm cured!"

Cam blinked. He'd been reading, it had been oddly but pleasantly quiet with his roommate in the sick bay. "Oh. That's good…"

"Very." Daniel looked at him. "Whatcha doin?"

"Just reading." Cam shrugged. "Figured if the commander is out doing work, I should be doing something productive too."

Daniel shook his head. "At least you're consistent." He plopped on his bed and began trying to think of ways he could be productive. Which didn't last long, mainly because he realized that was boring. What he really wanted to be doing was going to the meeting with Mansetti. That would've been cool and productive. Stupid hangover.

His Mansetti thoughts eventually led to thoughts on Boss Dread, and how awesome his name was. Which then led to a metaphorical light bulb lighting up above his head. "Yo! I just had an awesome idea!"

Turning a page, Cam opted not to even look up from his book. "Whatever you're thinking, no."

Daniel kept talking as if he hadn't heard him. "We should go ask that Boss Dread guy if he knows anything about Altea."

Now his roommate did look up, staring at him in disbelief. "Not a good idea man. I mean, yeah, we might get something, but it's the mafia! Trust me, you don't mess with the mafia. I'm Russian, I know."

"You're from the moon. There's mafias on the moon?" Daniel was skeptical, and not just of the Russian mafia living on the moon, but also goodie-two-shoes Cam knowing anything about the supposed Russian moon mafia.

"Yes. Russians on the moon means mafia on the moon," Cam assured him.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Whatever." Alright, time to go at this a different way. "We'll be careful, and think about how impressed Keith will be if we find out something useful."

Though Cam felt like glaring, somehow he just ended up staring again. "You know, you said I couldn't talk about him in front of you, and yet you brought him up…"

"No, I said you can't fanboy over him in front of me. There's a difference." Daniel was determined; if it was the last thing he did, Cam would learn the damn difference.

"Man…" His roommate shook his head. He's got a point, but it's risky. "If, and I stress that big time, if we do this we have to tell someone. If we get into hot water we could end up dead."

Daniel popped off his candidate of choice immediately. "Lance." Lance would be on board… and if he wasn't right off, he was probably the only one who could be convinced.

"He won't go for this… after his reaction to snake dude? Going to this guy?" Cam was pretty certain even Lance wouldn't go for this insanity, or at least he was hopeful.

"He'll totally go for it…" Daniel smirked. "Hang on." He pulled out his datapad. Cam just picked his book back up, waiting for the 'OH HELL FUCK NO' to happen.

Yo! Lancey-Pants!

Lance heard the ding and checked his datapad; they didn't use texting all that often, the ship had perfectly good internal comms. His eyes narrowed at the message.

BANG YOU'RE DEAD.

Daniel laughed, then remembered Lance couldn't hear that and inserted a laughing face emoji. Can you come to me and Cam's room? I've had an amazing idea.

"Fuck…" Lance rolled off of his bed. Anything the kid thought was an amazing idea was questionable enough as it was, never mind something he wouldn't just say over the comms. I doubt that. But he was also pretty sure he'd better come hear this bad idea, because refusing wouldn't stop them.

Ye of little faith.

Okay, I'm on my way… for some fucking reason.

"He's on his way," Daniel announced. Cam ignored him, continuing to read his book.

Lance came barging in a couple of minutes later. "Alright, children. What is it?"

"You're not going to go for it," Cam told him.

"You're totally gonna go for it," Daniel countered.

That sent an eyebrow shooting up immediately. "Am I?"

"Yes. We wanna go ask the Dread guy about Altea."

Lance blinked. "You wanna do fucking what?" Somehow it was even worse than he'd expected.

Cam smiled, relaxing a little. "I told you it was a bad idea." A bad idea that would definitely be squashed now, surely.

Daniel smiled too. "We want to be productive, and Cam wants to impress bossman."

Oh, no he didn't. Cam slowly closed his book, glaring. "This was all you. I'm trying to not get killed here."

"And getting yourself murdered is the way you want to do that?" Lance responded at the same time.

"You semi-agreed, Cam."

"I only said 'if'! 'If' is a long way from even semi-agreeing."

"You know you want to. Just give in already!" Daniel rolled his eyes, he was always having to talk this guy into stuff he knew he wanted to do. Lance shook his head, letting them argue, and the kid looked back over at him. "Cam said if we did this we had to tell someone, so I'm telling you."

"If I say no, you're talking that other idiot into it anyway, aren't you?" Lance sighed.

As Cam watched, the conversation was turning from something promising into something that made him feel like banging his head against the wall. "Hey!" I'm trying to talk him out of going!"

"Yes," Daniel assured him, ignoring Cam.

"Yes, you're putting up just the right amount of protest to cover your ass…" Lance retorted, before addressing the bigger issue. "Alright, we'll all go."

"Wait, what?!"

"YES!"

"You're… Seriously?" Cam stared between the pilot and gunner and blinked. Did he really just say yes?

"Yep." Lance told him, shrugging. I just wanna see what the fuck they manage to accomplish. He hadn't heard anything resembling a plan accompanying this idea.

"Told you so," Daniel gloated.

Cam groaned and flopped onto his bed. "I hate you, man. I hate both of you. This is such a bad idea."

"Cam, there are no good ideas on an Explorer Team." Lance felt like that lesson should have gotten through by now.

"So I'm starting to figure out." Cam sighed. "So you're really okay with going to see the guy that snake guy said to go see?"

"I'll be supervising," Lance said as if that fixed everything.

"Would you stop?" Daniel rolled his eyes and shot Cam a scowl. "We got old person approval. That was your only condition."

"HEY!" Lance yelled. The kid really had to stop with this 'old person' business, especially if he wanted approval for dumb ideas.

"If this goes sideways…" Cam glared. "Flamingos for days."

"…That will start a war that I promise you won't win."

"Didn't I just tell you I'm Russian? We know how to wage a war."

"I'm me. I annoyed you by walking into a room early. Imagine if I was actually trying."

"Are you two gonna just argue like an old married couple, or are we gonna go on this mafia hunt?" Lance asked. The ill-advised mission was definitely safer than letting their headache-inducing bickering continue.

"Married… oh god, no. I'm not seeing that elvish guy!" Cam was horrified by the thought.

"ELVISH?" Lance was horrified by the words.

"Yeah, that elvish impersonator you were talking about? Some… king of rock and roll?" Cam was 90% sure he had that right.

"Fucking… Elvis. EL-VIS." Lance was absolutely getting a headache now.

"Yeah, not marrying that."

"He marries… you know what, never mind." It wasn't worth it.

Cam sighed and grabbed his sidearm, and after second thought, a knife. "I can't believe we're really doing this. Such a bad idea. Huge mistake."

Glare. "Shut it, debbie downer!"

"He's probably right. Anyway, Daniel, this is your idea. You lead." Lance pulled out his datapad; it would probably be a good idea to tell someone what they were up to. Flynn was probably the best choice. Unlike Keith, he wouldn't ask questions until it was over.

Off with Idiot 1 and Idiot 2, to be idiotic… sure it'll be fine. Am supervising. Don't ask for details.

"Okay…" Daniel grinned and nodded before grabbing his own sidearm. "Let's get out of here!" Checking his own guns—all four of them, he'd brought extras just in case, and clearly that had been a good decision—Lance shook his head and followed him out.

"Ve all going to be kilt," Cam muttered as they walked off the ship, emphasizing his accent. Just in case he hadn't reminded them enough about his being Russian today. He was definitely going to be bringing it up again when things with the freaking mafia went bad.

"I look stunning in a kilt," Lance responded.

"Cam, stop talking like a bad version of Dracula."

"Poyekhali."

Daniel ignored whatever he'd just said and eyed the colorful tourist map he'd downloaded. "This way." He wasn't certain where they were going, but he did have a pretty good idea of where to start.

Lance shook his head again as they forged into the chaos of Dradin. They're never going to find him.

*****

The meeting with Mansetti was scheduled for midday; Keith had originally planned to go alone. He wasn't too sure what the protocol was, and this was one meeting they definitely couldn't afford to botch. But he'd been convinced—it hadn't really taken all that much—that walking alone into the hands of the legendary smuggler who owned the planet may not be the best idea.

Hunk was tagging along precisely because he wanted to meet a real live legendary smuggler; it sounded fun. Sven had signed on because duty, adventure… and well, hungover Jace was significantly worse than regular Jace.

"Let's hope this Mansetti is an agreeable character."

"Can't be too disagreeable, dude built a planet into an amusement park."

"True. Alright, remember. Bounty hunters. Looking for a criminal. Did one of you happen to snag Daniel's wanted poster?"

"I have it." Sven had been thinking ahead. He'd nabbed the poster from Daniel when he went to visit Jace in the sick bay.

Hunk grinned. "Viking's on it."

"Good." Keith nodded, looking at his directions, which he'd double and triple checked this time. Though he really needn't have bothered. Once they came in sight of what they were looking for, it was impossible to miss.

The building was a towering round high-rise that shimmered in Dradin's neon lights. If Keith didn't know better—did he know better?—he'd have said it was plated with actual gold. The windows were tinted in various bright colors, and every few floors there was a band of a painted floral pattern that wouldn't have looked out of place on a Hawaiian shirt. The sign on the front was written in a language he couldn't read, but there was writing in several other languages around the edges. It took him a moment to find the Common, which declared the building CHEZ MANSETTI.

It was… quite a thing, that was for sure. "Wow…"

"Interesting design."

"I like this dude already," Hunk declared, eyes wide with admiration.

Of course he did. Keith took a slow breath to steady himself; he was a little nervous. Just a little. Especially after the whole giant snake escapade. "Okay. We ready to do this?"

"Yes sir."

"Totally."

The interior, or at least the lobby, was just as garish and wild as the exterior. Nine different clerks were standing behind a huge polished gold counter, and the human one quickly waved them over. "Welcome to Chez Mansetti, the Spur's premier source of high-rise high-fashion office space! How can I help you?"

"I believe we have an appointment with Mr. Mansetti."

"Name?"

Keith fought back the wince. Using his real name… exactly… had once again seemed unwise. "Ko-gain and party." He was not at all unaware of his companions glancing at each other with raised eyebrows.

The clerk wasn't even looking at them, busy typing away. After a few moments he nodded. "Aha! Yes, there you are, Mr. Ko-gain. Mr. Mansetti is expecting you. Take elevator four up to the Observation Suite, he'll be waiting."

"Thank you." Turning in the direction the clerk had pointed, they headed for the elevator bank. Keith took another long breath. He was very glad he'd allowed the other two to come along now… Sven's businesslike demeanor gave him a silent but deadly aura, and Hunk looked exactly like a huge mafia bouncer.

Hunk was also staring at the neon elevator buttons with childlike glee. "Can I poke 'em?"

Sigh. "Button, yes. Mansetti, no."

Bursting into laughter, Hunk sought out the button for the observation suite. "I promise not to poke the smuggler kingpin. Probably." As he pressed the button, the elevator immediately shot up with a jolt; he grinned wider. "Wheeee!"

Sven chuckled, and Keith just crossed his arms and shook his head slightly. At least he still looks scary.

Soon enough the elevator halted, and the doors swished open to reveal a room full of sensory overload. The first thing he noticed was the 360-degree windows, offering an incredible view of Dradin's chaos. The second was the jagged black and white carpet, potted palm trees, and half a dozen squishy armchairs with bright upholstery.

The third was the alien sitting in the largest of those armchairs. Keith had never seen—or in fact heard of—a Karkinosi before, and couldn't quite keep down the startled blink. Mansetti was a very large, portly creature with four arms, four eyes, and a pair of antennae that had perked up as they entered. His skin was a maroon carapace dotted with small spikes. He could have looked very intimidating… but it was hard to be intimidated by someone wearing what looked to be a gaudy brightly-colored bathrobe and a copious amount of bling.

"Ah, welcome!" He stood and gestured expansively with all four arms. He may have been smiling—his beak-like mouth made it hard to tell for sure—but his tone was friendly enough. "Mr. Kogane and associates, I trust?"

Whatever worry the bathrobe had banished came surging back in full force. Keith stared at him. Mansetti had a thick accent, but it couldn't account for that. "It's… Ko-gain, actually…" The words physically pained him. The other two snickering behind him didn't help.

"Ah, is it?" Two of the Karkinosi's eyebrows arched behind his sunglasses. "Hmm. Here I thought I was meeting with one of the Alliance's youngest commanders." That cut off the snickering immediately. But he just shrugged. "Well, please have a seat! We'll figure out who you are soon enough. You can call me Manset."

What the…? Keith blinked, suddenly off-balance, fighting to recover his composure. "It's a pleasure, Manset." He took a seat in a chair across from the smuggler's, eyeing the coffee table between them until he got his expression under control. Then he gestured to his teammates. "This is Hunk and the Viking. What made you think I might be this young commander?"

Sven blinked himself as he took a seat on Keith's right. We're telling other people my nickname now? Bounty hunting, he supposed…

Manset returned to his own chair and looked them over carefully. "A bit of research. I have many enemies, you understand. Some who'd be bold enough to send people after me in my own office." He shrugged again. "But somehow, I don't think young Commander Kogane would be the type, even if those enemies did hire Earthlings."

"Hmm." That was all Keith could really manage for a moment. He glanced at Hunk and Sven, who to their credit were giving the room a second sweep and not jumping into the middle of this, as much as he might have liked help. "Well, he sounds very honorable and… talented? But we're just bounty hunters." Now the other two shot him looks again, and he glared slightly.

It didn't seem to bother Manset, who chuckled and waved it off. "Don't worry, don't worry! I assure you, if you need someone to understand not being easily traced, you're speaking to the right Karkinosi." He was really quite convinced Commander Kogane had learned everything he knew about undercover work from holos, but he wasn't judging. "So, bounty hunting. What bounty might you be after? So long as it isn't my hide, perhaps I can be of help to you."

Though he was still a bit off balance, Keith decided the subject of his identity was best abandoned. Nothing here seemed threatening, and they were paying the man well for his time. No sense in wasting it. He nodded to Sven, who produced the wanted poster and handed it over. "We're searching for the man on this poster."

Leaning forward and lifting his sunglasses, Manset peered at the poster carefully. "Questionable-looking fellow." He chuckled. "I ought to know."

"He's apparently looking for some legendary weapon on a planet named Altea. We've been trying to track down anything we can about either him or the planet."

The smuggler studied the poster a bit longer, then shook his head. "I don't recognize the fellow, and I've never heard of a planet called Altea. What brought you to me, if you don't mind my asking?"

That question they had anticipated, at least, and the truth had seemed like the best bet. "We were… originally attempting to get an audience with a mafia boss based on this planet. We were supposed to get an introduction from an associate of his, but the associate decided to double cross us, and well…" Keith shrugged, trying to say the next part as non-threateningly as possible. "He met an untimely end."

"He was a snake," Hunk muttered. "Literally."

Nodding, Manset leaned back and adjusted his sunglasses again. "Ahh, I see. You ran into one of Boss Dread's agents."

So he did know of Dread, at least. Keith nodded, knowing they would need to tread carefully here. "We were told he had a network and resources that might be able to help us find our man."

"Of course, of course. But you came to me?"

Hunk grinned. "You sounded nicer."

"Definitely a more enjoyable meeting," Sven agreed.

Keith winced slightly, but calmed as Manset burst into laughter. He waited for it to die down, then shrugged. "We didn't know how to get in touch with Dread after his agent turned on us, and you do own the planet… and yes, you sounded nicer."

"Well, I won't pretend Dread hasn't been a thorn in my side since I acquired the planet." Manset was still chuckling. "Our contact is usually limited to my security teams chasing his people from the vendors. I haven't been able to get anyone embedded into his network." He paused, eyeing then curiously for a moment. "I don't suppose you're for hire for some side business?"

They had done some crazy things for this mission, but trying to run a sting operation on a mafia boss—one who was already a slim thread, for that matter—didn't seem like the most efficient use of their time. Maybe if their other ideas completely dried up. Though Hunk looked very interested in hanging around Planet Vegas awhile longer; Sven less so. "Unfortunately we need to put all of our efforts towards our current job, and time is of the essence. Or we would seriously consider taking you up on it."

"It never hurts to ask." Shrug. "Without any agents in his orbit, my word would hurt your chances with Dread more than help you. But I can't imagine, if he knew anything of some mythical weapon, he'd be interested in letting anyone but himself get his hands on it. Likes his firepower, does Boss Dread."

Frowning, Keith nodded slowly. It was a reasonable point, if unhelpful for their mission. "Would you happen to have any other ideas on where someone looking for a mythical planet might go?"

"I'm not sure." Manset rubbed his chin thoughtfully, shifting in his seat. "I can't think of any of my own contacts who would be more likely than any other to know something. And you'll understand I can't just give you a list. But I can certainly ask around… Commander Kogane, I'm sure, could vouch for my intelligence capabilities."

He probably could, at that. "We would be grateful, if you could." Gratitude may or may not get them anywhere. The credit chip he produced and set on the coffee table between them almost certainly would. "For your… discretion, of course."

The smuggler palmed the chip deftly, then nodded. "Discretion is assured, of course. How will I contact you, if my sources turn anything up? Or will you be back in the neighborhood?"

Sven again looked mildly distressed at the prospect of coming back; Hunk again didn't. "Please say we're comin' back, boss…"

"We will try to be back." The way this mission was going, Keith would be more surprised if they didn't end up out this way again. "If we aren't able to…" Hell. How would he be able to contact them? They couldn't even get a report back to their boss.

"Toss a snail mail to that Kogane dude," Hunk suggested. "It'll find us."

Keith shot him a disbelieving glare, though admittedly he hadn't had any better ideas… at least he hadn't put the Karkinosi in a box. "Yes, that would work. We are employed by the Alliance, I'm sure an officer could ensure it reaches us sooner or later." He knew the charade was long dead, but he wasn't going to be the one to drop it outright. "With a confidential seal, of course? For safety."

"You can never be too safe!" Manset agreed cheerfully. He wasn't going to be the one to drop the pretense either. "So, is there anything else I can do for you?"

And speaking of… "Actually, we do hope so… could we use your secure subspace relay? We haven't been able to contact our employers with an update for some time."

"You're quite welcome to use it, if you'd like to try your luck. The Alliance hasn't taken my calls for years." Manset sat back, steepling his fingers uneasily, his antennae waggling in a way that looked oddly like a shrug. "You import a few hundred kilos of illegal floral arrangements to Vdumak, and everyone gets all bent out of shape…"

It took a fair bit of effort for even Keith not to snicker at that; Hunk failed completely. "Out of shape over flowers? Shameful." Sven's eyebrows had arched for about the hundredth time this meeting, though he was amused. Not least because he knew that in some cultures, flower arrangements having so much as a petal out of place could be highly offensive… an act of war, even. He was kind of tempted to mention that, but thought better of it; it didn't seem directly relevant.

He'd been correct; Manset's problems had rested elsewhere. "I had a contract, how was I supposed to know they were hallucinogenic to the locals? Ah, the perils of the profession."

Keith blinked. Why hadn't he expected that? "Indeed. Well, as you said, it never hurts to ask." He stood, looking around the suite again; the view really was remarkable. But it seemed they'd gotten all they could here. "We thank you for your time, Manset, but I think we—" He was cut off by a chime rippling through the room.

"Ah, lunchtime!" Their host's antennae perked up again. "Would you like to stay? I don't eat fancy, I'm afraid, but the Bacon Decadence burger is a Dradin specialty."

"Well…" Keith looked at the other two as he considered it. Which may have been a mistake; Hunk was giving him a truly devastating pair of puppy eyes. So much for the fearsome mafia bouncer. "…It would be impolite to refuse such a kind offer."

Manset clapped both his sets of hands together. "Excellent! I'd be a poor host if I failed to ensure you enjoy everything Dradin has to offer." He snapped his fingers, and a section of floor on the far side of the room flipped over to reveal a dining table with a rainbow zebra-print tablecloth.

"The decor just seems to get more and more interesting the longer we're here," Sven murmured. It wasn't an objection, exactly; it really would be very impolite to refuse the meal. Besides, he hadn't eaten his burger the night before… or if he had, he didn't remember it.

At about the same moment, Hunk's eyes lit up. "Dude. Whenever we get back here, I need the name of your interior decorator."

There are two kinds of people, Keith mused, chuckling slightly as he looked at his crewmates. A chair with squishy rainbow-zebra upholstery came rolling up to him on some kind of automated gadget, and he took a seat. It wasn't exactly what he'd planned, but what could it hurt? Even if he couldn't help them with Altea, a contact like Manset could probably come in handy someday.

*****

Meanwhile, the other trio to be out and about had walked around for a good while to no avail. Though Daniel was still acting like he knew where he was going… soon enough, he led them to a brightly lit casino. The Lucky Lure, it was called; not Dradin's biggest or fanciest, but it was nice, and the map didn't show any security posts nearby.

It was the best idea he had, really. Where there was gambling, there had to be mafia, right? Right! "Let's go find a mob boss." Without waiting for a response, he walked right in.

Cam gave Lance a wary look. "It can't be as easy as he thinks, right?"

Lance shrugged. "I'm sure mob bosses often hang out in the open." Walking in right behind Daniel, they were greeted with yelling, ringing, and what looked like pure chaos.

"Awesome." Daniel couldn't think of another word to describe it; he reminded himself to come back and try the slot machines. And to look into Dradin for retirement. It was never too early to start making plans.

Lance looked around quickly, scanning everything. He was impressed by the casino's selection; shame he couldn't stop and gamble a little. Too busy supervising.

"So… where exactly are we going to find him?" Cam asked, stopping right next to Daniel.

"Yeah, kid, where to?"

"Hm." Daniel waited for a minute, hoping for some sort of sign. Not a single shady-looking bouncer to be seen in the place. Rude. A piercing scream rang out, though; no doubt just someone who'd lost a lot of money, but it was a good a sign as any. "That way."

"…He has no idea, does he?" Cam asked, looking at Lance, who just snickered and followed. So much for sanity. "My umrem…"

The pilot glanced back at him. "Say what?"

"My umrem," he repeated sullenly. "We will die."

Despite being a few feet ahead in the noisy casino, Daniel heard his comments just fine. But he chose to ignore it. He was totally gonna find the dude.

They'd been poking around for awhile when Daniel noticed a line of photo booths with various themes. There was the casino one, of course… also the Hawaiian one, the underwater one, some alien rock band one… and at the end, a spooky-looking one labeled Photo Booth of Dread. That was fitting. Another metaphorical light bulb lit above his head.

Cam stopped near the photo booths and glared. His feet hurt. "We're not going to find him."

Daniel ignored him, looking at Lance instead. "So I'm in charge, right?" He wasn't really sure how serious that had been.

They're right, I am insane. "Yep."

"Awesome. Okay. We're taking a group photo in the perfectly named photo booth," Daniel ordered, and smirked. He liked giving orders.

"It is aptly named…" Lance shrugged. "And I do take an awesome photo."

Daniel jumped into the booth, and a scare chord played; the lightning went blood red. This thing was cool. Though there was one small logistical problem… as Lance sat next to him, he offered his most ingratiating smile. "You got some spare credits to pay for the pictures?" He may have forgotten to bring money.

Lance rolled his eyes, but handed the kid a chip as Cam scooted in beside him. As Daniel accepted the chip and paid, the booth crackled with scary lightning. None of them paid it much attention, but the ambiance seemed about right.

"Okay guys, give it your best Blue Steel."

"My what?" Daniel asked, confused. Lance was always talking about old stuff he didn't get.

Lance shook his head. "Only Hunk understands me." They all prepared their best photo booth faces—a smile, a wink, some bunny ears—but instead of a flash the photo booth started to shudder and make a weird noise. The shutter clicked several times, but no picture. It seemed to be malfunctioning.

"Oh, come on…"

"These things are always iffy."

Cam wasn't wholly convinced about the photo, but they were here now, so he decided to kick it. Kicking things was usually an excellent tech fixer.

Almost immediately, the booth's floor dropped out from under them. "The fuck!?" Lance yelled as they flew down what seemed to be a metal slide, or a very large vent? It was kind of hard to tell as they tumbled down it.

"WOW! Haha!" Daniel screeched, while Cam simply screamed.

Upon landing Lance checked to make sure his guns were still on him. The boys did the same. They all seemed intact… he looked up from the floor and frowned slightly. The chute had dumped them out into what appeared to be a nicely furnished sitting room.

"This probably looks like Vince's house," he commented, for lack of any better things to say.

"I could see that." Daniel nodded.

"I can't believe that just happened…" Cam just kept staring at the floor.

None of them saw the imposing Drule woman standing in front of them with her arms crossed, at least until she spoke. "There's no 'Vince' here, round-ears."

Lance's head snapped up. Oh. Uh oh. He looked her up and down, she wasn't bad looking at all, for a Drule.

Cam had something similar in mind. She is cute… but I'm too young to die.

"Um…?" Daniel's eyes were wide as he looked up at her. He'd never been called 'round-ears' before. "Hi?"

She glared. "You're in the wrong part of town. I can fix that for you."

"What part of town are we in?" Daniel asked, shrugging. That got him one of the most impressive is this kid for real? looks he'd ever seen, and that was saying something.

"My umrem," Cam whispered again, wincing. They were so gonna die.

The Drule gave an exasperated sigh; their lack of fear seemed to have thrown her. "Okay fine. What's your business here? We don't deal with your kind."

Daniel looked at Lance expectantly; usually by now he was already talking them out of these kinds of situations. Not that they'd been in that many of these situations together, but still. Lance looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "You're the boss."

The one day we let Daniel lead, and we're going to die.

"So I'm like… In charge in charge?" Daniel got a giant smile on his face, because Lance had said he was in charge but people never ACTUALLY put him in charge. "I never get to be in charge in charge!" Lance fought off a grin and kept an eye on the woman.

"He's your boss?" the Drule snorted. "How did you monkeys ever make it out of trees?" She drew her pistol and started flipping it around in her hands, eyeing them with a slight smirk. "Now how about you start talking."

She likes a show, Lance thought as he watched her. That's good, just stay amused. He moved slightly forward, so if he needed to he could get the kids behind him. Cam sidestepped a little bit, in case the pilot needed more room to save them. They were definitely going to need saving.

"We, uh… we were looking for Boss Dread," Daniel explained, hoping not to be shot. The scary Drule lady beneath the Photo Booth of Dread seemed like the best lead they'd had so far, no sense not trying their luck. "We heard he could maybe answer some questions about a guy we're hunting."

She almost dropped the gun. "You think you can just come in here and ask to see Boss Dread that easy?"

"…Was kinda hoping, yeah."

She eyed them for another moment with total disbelief, then shrugged. Walking over to a speaker, she hit a button and began to speak in Drakure.

Cam had learned Drakure, of course—at least the diplomatic basics. What she was saying included some things that definitely weren't diplomatic, but he got the gist. Something to the effect of hey boss, some idiot humans want to ask you some questions… wait. "You're going to let us see him?" he asked, shocked. Glad they weren't being shot, but still shocked.

Lance was thinking along the same lines. How the hell did the kid manage this? Keith and Flynn are gonna kill me.

"The boss is a busy man, round-ear. Just because I'm asking doesn't mean he'll bother to—" She was cut off by a voice over the comm system.

"Bring them in."

The Drule fell silent, staring dumbfounded at the speaker. Daniel just smiled. This was awesome.

"What the fuck," Lance mumbled under his breath. This was totally not awesome.

"Kak, chert voz'mi." This was so not-awesome Cam was forgetting English.

Scary Drule lady didn't seem to think it was all that awesome either. Finally she waved for them to follow her—with her pistol, attempting to cover up how flustered she was. But the boss usually did have his reasons, she supposed…

She led them through several small airlock-like rooms that rotated, completely torpedoing any sense of direction they may have had. Apparently security was tighter than just a crummy photo booth with a cool punny name. "I can't believe we're doing this," Cam whispered, but Daniel ignored him as they entered the final room.

Boss Dread was sitting at a huge, gleaming desk with his feet propped up. Six heavily armed guards flanked him. He gave them a broad smile as they entered, and waved them further into the room. "Ah! Welcome! Please, have a seat. Can my aide get you anything? Tea cakes? Blood wine?"

"A large glass of vodka?" Cam asked before he could really think about it, sinking into a chair; he needed something for his nerves. Daniel sat next to him, contemplating why anyone would want to drink something called blood wine. Lance inwardly groaned at Cam, and decided to stay standing, just in case. He eyed Dread carefully. He wasn't bad looking either; much more attractive than his nasty snake friend. His clothes wouldn't have looked wholly out of place in an old Earth gangster movie; pinstripes were very much in among the Drules these days.

"Of course, of course." Dread waved off their annoyed guide, and gave an unpleasant smirk. "It's not every day a few Earthlings have the nerve to walk right into my stronghold. You should be honored for your… how do you say… 'chutzpah'."

"Thank you." Daniel smiled.

"We thank you for your time, sir," Cam agreed, swallowing hard. "We know you are a busy person." Daniel glanced at him with a raised brow, but didn't comment. Brown noser.

"Indeed I am. Our wares don't move themselves, you know… but every so often I do have an opening. Now, what business do you have with my Syndicate?"

"We heard you could help us find…" Daniel paused to pull out a wanted poster. Sven had taken the original, but having a few copies had seemed like a good call. "This guy." He held it up so he could see.

The Drule woman from before chose that moment to walk in with a large glass of vodka, handing it to Cam. The glass had been etched with the Syndicate's insignia. There were a lot of skulls. Lance stared. Really? He still wasn't sure if he should laugh at the situation or grab the kids and run.

"Thank you, miss." Lance really almost did laugh at Cam thanking the woman as if she was a waitress; she shook her head in annoyance before retreating back to the doorway. Cam smiled at the glass—it was pretty cool looking—then took a very long drink. Which he nearly gagged on, the stuff was potent. He masked it with a cough, then took a much more reasonable sip.

"Are you sure you're not an alcoholic?" Daniel mumbled.

"I'm going to be, going along with you on stuff like this," Cam mumbled back.

Dread had taken the poster from Daniel, and studied it for a minute before giving a chuckle. "We don't deal with Earthlings in our line of work. Too soft." He shrugged. "Who told you we might know about this ugly fellow?"

"A very pretty snake," Daniel said quietly. He figured it was best not to give away too much information, Bokar had worked for Dread. No telling how he felt about the guy. And he wanted to avoid the name in front of Lance, anyway; he didn't need another 'I was right' or 'Your taste sucks' thrown in his face.

Cam showed no such restraint. "We're bounty hunters. We met with an associate of yours, a man by the name of Bokar… he said you might have information on either this gentleman or the planet he's looking for."

Daniel tried to fight down the wide eyed stare he shot at Cam, but… for the love of fuck. Lance was just trying not to choke on the air he was breathing.

Boss Dread stared at them for a moment, eyes narrowed, before he spoke. "Bokar. Dead?"

"Yeah…" Shit. "He uh, got killed by the local Alliance troops before he could give us an introduction, but he gave us your name," Daniel explained.

Once again Cam answered as if Daniel hadn't spoken at all. "Unfortunately, yes, sir. We were helping him retrieve a stash of artifacts, and he promised us an introduction in exchange, but he turn—I mean, he passed before he had the chance to follow through." Daniel watched as Cam took another sip of his vodka, and for the first time during this whole situation he began to feel a little nervous. He'd have felt better if his roommate were in elbowing range.

Dread's eyes narrowed further, looking between the three of them, and then abruptly he began laughing loudly.

Lance once again felt himself raising a brow, and Daniel was just hoping that laughter was a good thing. Cam winced and sipped more of his vodka. He was definitely buzzed already; his grandma would love this stuff. At least it was helping with his nerves.

"Soft, and bad liars," Dread finally declared with a sneer. "But I suppose not so soft." He opened a drawer, took out a small silken pouch, and tossed it at Daniel. "Fair pay for services rendered. The snake fool was playing me against at least three other patrons... do you know how difficult it is to find an assassin willing to take on a Najari? You've saved me a great deal of trouble."

"Um… you're welcome." Daniel palmed the bag. The silky material felt nice, and based on the weight, there was a pretty good pile of credit chips inside. This was going way better than he'd had any business hoping.

Lance shook his head, keeping his own opinions on Bokar to himself. He wasn't that hard to kill. Though he supposed they had kind of used a spaceship to do it.

"Um, we can give you the location of his last stash, if you want?" Cam offered, taking yet another sip of his drink. Daniel whipped his head around, glaring. He may be new to this being 'in charge, in charge' thing, but he was pretty certain they shouldn't be telling this guy that. Even Lance closed his eyes briefly. What is in that vodka?

'"Perhaps you'll have an opportunity to do that…" Boss Dread gave another nasty smirk, and Lance winced. Shit. This was about to go bad. "Unless you'd like to hire an assassin yourselves, I'm afraid I can't help you with your bounty here. Or Altea. We're in the business of moving sensitive goods, not exploring the stars," Dread explained. He pressed a button on his desk; the doors behind them slammed shut. "So, why don't you tell me which associates of yours we ought to contact about the fine ransom you'll command? And once they've paid it, you can be on your way."

Oh shit. Daniel could feel Cam looking at him, like he was supposed to know what the fuck they were gonna do now. This was why people didn't put him in charge! He jumped out of his chair, more by reflex than anything… all six bodyguards immediately trained their very impressive guns on him. He sat back down.

"Wise choice." Dread still had that nasty smirk, though his tone was as polite as ever. "You'll be worth so much less if you have holes in you. Let's try to avoid that. Don't you agree?"

Oh, he agreed, alright. This was so, so not awesome. Cam leaned close to him and whispered, "Aren't you going to say anything?" Daniel hoped the look he gave him in return truly conveyed the FUCK NO he was feeling. Yelling it, no matter how tempting, didn't seem like the best idea.

Lance looked between them and grimaced. Time to do some of that supervising. Get on it, McClain, the kids and you are screwed if you don't think fast… "Dread? Can I call you Dread?" he asked with a big smile.

The Drule eyed him. "Most do, human. And for a reason."

"Oh, I don't doubt that at all." Go bold, what besides your life do you have to lose? Lance moved closer to the desk, flailing to remember everything he knew about making nice with Drules. Which was a fair bit, all things considered. "We're no one really, just after some no name who stole some plans from the Alliance, who thinks some Atlantis in the sky exists…" He paused for a moment, not totally sure where he was going with this, but winging it was his specialty. "But you… you… now you're someone!"

Dread eyed him. "The Alliance usually pays quite well to keep their round-ears out of trouble, nobodies or not." Slowly, one of his eyebrows went up. "Are you making a counter offer?

"If I were?"

"I'm listening," Dread informed him, his teeth bared.

Lance grinned. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. He had to have a counter offer somewhere, he just needed a second to—

"Well, like I said, we know the location of Bokar's stash." Cam's accent was becoming a little more pronounced again. "It vas quite a bit of treasure."

Wincing, Daniel reached over and took Cam's vodka from him. "Shut up!"

It had given Lance the moment's breather he needed. More to the point, it had made him notice the credit chips in Daniel's lap, and a plan was beginning to form. "You've got quite a smile there," he complimented, returning his attention to Dread. He knew wealthy Drules took pride in their teeth.

"Why thank you." Dread grinned even more nastily. "I sharpen my fangs daily. Not many have that luxury, you know. But when you run an interstellar syndicate of sufficient power... there are some perks." He decided to twist the knife a little; he knew perfectly well what was going on here. "Do you know what else is a perk? Your Alliance can't touch me here without causing an interstellar incident."

"They aren't really our Alliance. We just do their dirty work, you know? Good at it too, but they don't really appreciate it. I mean we might get you some alcreds, but we're not quite worth the bounty on, say, a Najari?" Lance flashed his most winning smile.

"I see what you're doing. You think you can sweet talk me that easily?" Dread chuckled darkly, looking between Lance and Daniel.

Daniel tried for a charming smile himself. I sure as hell hope he can.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of only sweet talking our way out of this. Look at all those guns behind you." Lance cocked his head. "I know my guns, you've got quite the taste in equipment."

Dread was definitely amused now. "Your observations are fair enough, human."

"Your strength is admirable."

"Your audacity is remarkable."

Well, that wasn't wrong. But if he really wanted audacity, Lance did know one pretty good line in Drakure. "Qu'urial ke svaldrumos se'var chor."

Daniel blinked, looking at Cam, who shrugged. He'd followed most of that, but there was some kind of slang nuance he'd definitely missed. Boss Dread, though, had definitely gotten the nuance. He stared at Lance for a very long few seconds; the pilot looked back at him evenly, keeping their eyes locked and his grin wide.

Dread roared with laughter.

"We're gonna die…" Cam whispered, claiming his vodka back from Daniel and taking a very long drink. Lance kicked his leg. "Hey! That's gonna bruise, man!"

Lance ignored that; his focus was on the mob boss in front of him, who regained his composure and bared his fangs again. "You've got yourself a deal, round-ears. One Najari bounty reward as ransom, and you're free to go." His smirk somehow got even nastier. "You only get to flatter your way out of the Syndicate's clutches once, human. Show up around here again…" He paused to slice a finger across his neck. "We'll see how pretty that tongue is mounted on my wall."

Lance grabbed the credits off of Daniel's lap and handed them over, smirking right back. "My tongue is mighty pretty."

"Ew." Daniel was horrified. "I didn't need to hear that."

Cam nodded in agreement and finished off his vodka. "I didn't hear that."

"Are you sure you want to tempt me?" Dread asked.

"No more than I already have," Lance answered with a wink. Stay audacious.

Dread waved for his bodyguards to stand down, and pressed the button to open the door. "I'm gonna count to ten, and you'd better be gone." He sneered. "Oh, and keep the glass. A souvenir. With my compliments."

"It is a sweet glass, thank y—"

"Shut up and run!" Lance shoved the kids in front of him. Daniel had already grabbed Cam's hand and took off in an instant, hauling his roommate behind him—he did, after all, have the advantage of not being intoxicated. They sprinted into the first rotating room, which swung around to cut off their view of Dread's office, and for maybe the first time since entering they all stopped to breathe.

Once. Then the room finished swinging around and they were gone.

*****

Fun time on Dradin was over. The rift jump on the way here hadn't caused any serious damage, but it had scorched some wiring that Flynn wanted replaced out of caution. Vince could get behind that. So he was crouched over an access hatch in the floor of the engine bay, carefully winding new wires through the complicated maze of metal framework, ventilation, and cabling.

Pidge was at the main console with a status screen up, watching one wire after another blink red, then black, then green. He didn't necessarily need to be here, but what else was he going to do? Couldn't go out and play more ring toss. So he watched the electrical engineer with some interest… he'd been put on monitoring duty a lot back on the Prime Yard, it kept him further away from the other techs. Wiring replacement was something he'd seen a lot of. Vince was doing it noticeably faster than any of his old groupmates.

He was working on a particularly tricky one now; the path looped around like a Dradin roller coaster. The feeling that he was being watched kept tugging at him, and he kept reminding himself he was. He was learning to remain Ninja Aware. Shaking it off, he returned his focus to the wiring, his tongue poking out slightly as he threaded the needle between a few other cables. The Bolt's internal workings were crammed as tightly together as was feasible, to allow for every possible inch of space to go to the main cargo bay.

As Pidge watched, the light for that wire went green, and he frowned. Flynn wasn't here; he was one deck down at the end of an engine shaft, doing full inspections. In his absence, he opted to try his hand at being a good teammate. "Nice job, mechka."

Vince did not startle, since he was Ninja Aware. He did look over at him, confused. "Huh?"

"…Nice job? With the wires."

"Oh." A compliment, and a compliment from the ninja of all people… he felt himself flushing. Deflection was the first thing to come out. "Uh, thanks. Feels like I'm a bit behind, really…"

Behind? Pidge checked the time. "Not at all." Though it didn't seem to reassure the other engineer all that much.

"Oh. Probably just me, then."

"Probably?" Sighing, Pidge went back to the console as Vince returned to his work. He couldn't help but feel his attempt at being nice had gone wrong somehow.

The next wire was going to be a total pain to deal with; it was one of the primary engine sync relays, and it ran halfway across the bay. On the plus side, it was a pretty straight shot. On the minus side, there was a lot of other stuff in the way trying to prevent it from being a straight shot.

Fortunately, there were ways to make it less of a pain. Ways that involved partly dismantled vents, creative maneuvering, and very well-insulated pliers. Most of his Academy instructors would have yelled at him for the kind of finagling he was doing, but Flynn always seemed to approve. Soon enough he had the new wire in place, and allowed himself a bit of a grin.

As he moved on to the next, he thought he heard Pidge mutter under his breath. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"Five minutes, eighteen seconds," Pidge repeated. "The sync relay replacement. That's good, isn't it?"

Um. "I wouldn't know, really… you timed it?"

"…Yes? You were worried about being behind. I was confirming you're not."

Vince blinked. That was not exactly why he'd… what the heck? If it amuses him let him time you. "Yeah, well it should've taken longer. Nice that Flynn doesn't expect us to stick to regs if there's a better way."

"Oh, that's how you're doing it?" Pidge seemed impressed again, or at least also approving. "They don't teach those kind of shortcuts at the Academy, kir sa tye?"

Now he was really getting uncomfortable… even physically, his cheeks were burning. He tried for a casual shrug. "I guess, I just sorta do it, really. It's not a big deal."

That got him a mildly annoyed look. "I didn't say it was a big deal, I just said you did a good job."

He should just say thanks here. He really should just say thanks and move on to the next wire. "Yeah, uh… thanks, just my job though." I suck at this.

Even Pidge had noticed that. "Humans…" This behavior in particular still mystified him. Modesty, they called it—like it was a virtue to waste time with inaccuracies. And it made it that much harder to be nice. "Why can't you just take a compliment?" Though he seemed to take them better from Flynn or Hunk… he shook that thought off.

Oh, crap. "You're right, I'm not great at them, sorry. Thank you." Vince immediately grimaced, unsure if that had sounded sincere or just panicked.

Pidge seemed to calm a little, at least. "Humans downplaying their abilities is illogical. How do you ever really get anything done?"

…Well, here they went again. Time to attempt to explain human to the ninja. Vince was never sure he was doing a good job of it anyway, let alone subjects he wasn't so great with himself, but he would try… Pidge did keep asking him, so he must be doing it somewhat right.

He stepped away from the access panel first, though. No sense tempting more explosions.

Pidge watched him warily. Did I insult him now? He was trying to avoid that. If only he could get a better feel for how.

"It's just that, uh, I'm not great at handling… ugh, I mean sometimes humans just don't know how to…" This was not working out at all. Sighing again and scratching the back of his head, Vince took a few steps forward. "Honestly, I hate compliments." There, that had come easily enough. "I get all sweaty."

For a split second, Pidge was no longer aware of the Bolt's engine bay around him. All he saw was Vince moving in on him, all he heard was the suddenly strong voice. Honestly, I hate… he dropped back and pulled his knife, falling into a defensive stance. "Back off!"

He'd hardly finished yelling it when he comprehended the rest of the statement and realized what was actually happening. Not that his adrenaline was ready to back down so easily, but he felt incredibly foolish.

Vince sprang back with wide eyes. "Whoa, Pidge!" Crap crap crap. What had he said?

After a few very long, tense seconds, Pidge relaxed. Slightly. "Don't do that, mechka," he finally muttered. Maybe that particular misunderstanding could be avoided. "Don't ever come at me like that." The warning was for both of them; the thought never even crossed his mind that it might sound like a threat. He stepped around the console, flipping the knife in his hand to sheath it as he approached.

It sure as hell did sound like a threat to Vince, and the movement of the knife didn't help anything. He reflexively raised a hand as he stepped back.

Sparks flew.

"Chal sa kye?!" Pidge really did panic now, and his combat reflexes took over. He crouched, ready to spring.

Vince was staring at his hand. His hand that sparks had shot out of, without any wires nearby at all. What the heck…? No, scary ninja, focus on the ninja. "I'm sorry, that wasn't… I wasn't trying to do anything, I don't even know how—"

"—Dammit, Pidge!"

The hyperspace thruster shafts were essentially huge metal tubes. Everything in and around them echoed like crazy. Everything, including a pair of wrenchlings yelling near exposed internal structure. Flynn hadn't been able to make out the words, but get your ass back to the main bay had been the clear enough message.

He'd really had it with this.

Both of the kids had spun to look at him; both had gone completely motionless at the look on his face. Pidge struggled to get his bearings—why was it always so much easier to see things clearly after someone intervened? "M… misunderstanding, sir," he finally managed in a very weak voice. Vince nodded in fervent agreement. It had definitely been one of those.

Not that the chief was looking at Vince. "It's always a fucking misunderstanding!" Ninja hadn't even put the knife away. Admittedly, he looked terrified, which might have done it… but Flynn really wasn't looking for excuses for him right now. "Get out of here. I don't want to see you until your next shift. Can you understand that?"

…Now you've done it, varetya. Now you've really done it. With a supreme effort and a shaky hand, Pidge sheathed the knife and nodded. "Y… yessir." He slipped by Flynn and fled the bay, engaging his camo suit as he went.

Almost immediately, Flynn's adrenaline crashed. He'd been ready for a fight, even knowing he wouldn't get one. And as the hatch closed he felt a cold twinge in his stomach. What did you just do?

Vince looking more than a little frightened himself did nothing for the surge of regret. He winced. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah… it really was a misunderstanding, kind of both of us this time, I think… um, I sparked, that didn't help either." You sparked. What an understatement. Not holding a wire, not near the electronics… he stared at his hand again.

"…Never does, does it?" Flynn looked around the bay, though his eyes kept going to the hatch. He was getting better, faex… fuck's sake, how about you focus on the wrenchling who doesn't threaten people right now? "I don't see any fire?"

"Uh. No, I thought it might be coming, so I moved away from the wires…" He'd have been much more proud of that foresight if not for what had come next.

Flynn didn't miss it either, and for a moment he really did forget about Pidge. "You… you 'sparked' without wires?"

"Trying not to freak out about that, sir." Trying so hard, in fact, that he actually veered the conversation back to trying to defend the ninja. "About Pidge, I don't think he meant anything…"

Sigh. "He never does." And that was usually enough for Flynn to let it slide, but it just kept happening… and now Vince was what? He felt unmoored. But he was the superior officer here, he had to do something. "…Okay, listen. I want you to go to Jace. Get checked out." It was all he could think of. Probably just a stress hallucination, he had a ninja about to knife him and he's pretty damn paranoid as is…

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

They both flinched a little—Vince had regretted the reflexive question the second it came out, and Flynn had regretted the shortness of his answer just as quickly. But it was what it was. "Sorry… yes, sir." Vince backed off and left the bay.

Good job. Watching him go, Flynn sank back against a console and sighed. Now you've snapped at both the kids. Why don't stay here until Hunk gets back, see if you can get him to punch you while you're at it?

His skin was crawling. Disciplinary action was nothing new, of course, but he'd never actually lost his temper like that with a subordinate before. Never mind that dealing with this particular subordinate was already like walking a tightrope.

It was the one leap of logic in the whole Explorer Team rationale. Just because you threw a bunch of misfits together didn't actually mean they would click. Most of the time it worked, but what happened when it didn't? What the hell was he supposed to do with a ninja whose skull was thicker than the hull armor? Just keep waiting it out?

Yes. That's exactly what you were supposed to do, because that's what was working, and you lost your temper instead. Way to go.

He was tired. He was angry. But he knew he really couldn't afford to be either. Which left him with what?

Well… there had been that message he'd gotten from Lance. He pulled out his datapad and typed in a quick reply. How are your idiots doing? I just fucked things up nicely with mine. Beer?

It wasn't a long term solution, but for the moment it might make him feel better. And maybe Lance would have some insight… he seemed to be doing just fine with the kids on the bridge.

*****

Once they were well away from Boss Dread and his casino, Lance yelled what he'd been wanting to yell for roughly 80% of that entire fiasco. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

"Fuck me running…" Cam stumbled a little and found a railing to lean on. "That was insane!"

"That was… terrifying." Daniel admitted. Though it had also been one hell of an adrenaline rush. He laughed, then sighed. "I'm not ever gonna be put 'in charge, in charge' again, huh?"

Lance's answer was immediate. "NO! I didn't think you'd actually find him!" Daniel pouted a little, but the pilot ignored him. "I need a lot of hard liquor."

"Skip their vodka. Potent as hell," Cam warned. "But that one gal was hot."

"They were both hot… but that is neither here nor there."

"You agreed to this." Daniel was feeling a little put out, this wasn't all his fault.

"YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO FIND HIM!" Lance yelled.

"It's not my fault you underestimated my bounty hunting skills!"

"When Keith guts me with his sword, it's on your head, kid."

"Wow, wow. Hold up—"

"How the fuck did you find him? I mean shit, what if we hadn't gotten out of there?"

Daniel was not paying much attention to Cam's complaints at all. They had gotten out of there, after all… and he was much more concerned about this 'telling Keith' nonsense. "—Why are we telling Keith shit?"

"Uh… cuz he's the boss." That seemed pretty obvious to Cam.

"Wasn't asking you. You're intoxicated, you can't even be sure you'll even remember this correctly," Daniel sassed.

"I remember just fine… for the moment," Cam sassed right back, though maybe it wasn't as effective as it could have been.

"But seriously, I can't very well not mention we met with Boss Dread." Lance sighed. "Kid, it will all land on me, don't sweat it."

"Well—" Daniel winced at the second part, and the 'well, why not?' died on his lips. He groaned instead. "That's not better." That meant he'd actually feel guilty. "Just let it fall on me. I don't want you in trouble." He handled being in trouble much better than someone else being in trouble for him.

Smirk. "It's fine, it's what I get for being… what do you keep saying? The old person."

"But it was my idea… and exactly, you're old. Who knows how many more of Keith lectures you can take before you croak?" Daniel snarked.

"…Now you're pushing it."

"That is what I'm good at." Daniel gave him a half smile, then backed off. He was getting pretty good at being able to tell when he was at Lance's limit. Sometimes, but only Lance. Figuring the rest of the team's limits would be way too much work.

"Trust me, I know." Lance smiled.

"So…"

"Potoropis'! Hurry up!"

Their conversation was ended not just by the yell, but the realization that the yell—and their comms officer—was halfway up the street. "Cam! What are you doing? Come back!" Daniel yelled, running off after him.

As they caught up, Lance shook his head for what felt like the millionth time… which was plenty. They'd gotten in more than enough trouble for one day. "Go back to the ship," he ordered.

Daniel sighed; he really wanted to go try out some slot machines, but he knew now wasn't the time to bring that up. "Okay." But Cam had started walking off again. For the love of… "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the casino!" Cam informed them in a slightly slurred voice.

"No, you two are going to the ship," the pilot reiterated a bit more emphatically. "I'm gonna go get drunk." Daniel didn't see how that was fair, but nodded anyways. Lance veered off from them, watching to make sure they were heading in the direction of the spaceport. Right about then his datapad beeped, and he checked the message and smiled. Great minds think alike.

Walking a little way down the street until they were out of sight, Daniel found himself feeling torn. Listen to Lance, or go to the casino? Listen to Lance? Casino? Listening or the casino? Why the fuck was this even a contest?

"So, you ready to hit the casino?"

"Yes!" Cam had already been turning.

"Shit… am I gonna have to be the responsible one?" Daniel asked. He didn't like that role. "Fuck."

"Nah. I'm responsible. Just buzzed." Cam cuddled his Syndicate glass. "Don't let me lose this."

A glass. He was cuddling a glass. Daniel sighed. "Oh yeah. That's reassuring."

Cam giggled in response, which wasn't reassuring either, and turned his attention to a row of flashy casino signs. "Okay, let's go spend some money!"

As they walked in and headed for the closest slot machine—Double Dradin Diamonds—Daniel suddenly realized the problem with this plan. "Fuck. I don't have any money."

"That's okay. You can watch me win."

That seemed unlikely. Still, they messed around in the casino for a good little while, before Daniel started feeling a twinge from his… conscience? No. Stay Out of Trouble Radar? Maybe. Keep Lance From Being Pissed at Him Sensor? Most definitely. It was time to get back to the ship.

They hadn't won anything, anyway. Daniel because he was broke, Cam because apparently his luck just sucked.

"Come on, stop wasting your money and let's go… I wanna get back to the ship before Lance gets back." Daniel may have been whining. Just a little.

Cam shook himself out of whatever fog he was in. The slots he'd been on were still resolutely not winning, and Daniel being more responsible than him was definitely too weird to continue. "Yeah. How about a cup of coffee? Grab it to go?"

"I don't want any, but you definitely need it," Daniel agreed. They found a few alien coffee-equivalent places that they were definitely not going to risk before finally coming across a Starbrews, and got into the mercifully short line.

As they waited, Cam glanced around and caught sight of a girl about their age at one of the tables… a Drule girl. She had cobalt-blue skin and silvery hair tied in several braids, and for a few moments he couldn't take his eyes off her. "Wow… look at that Drule chick." She was sitting all by her lonesome; he wondered if Starbrews was as weird to Drules as blood wine was to humans.

"She's cute." Daniel shrugged. He wasn't that interested in Drules right now.

"She's hot. Sad to see her alone, though." Cam moved up to the counter and ordered himself a mocha.

Daniel looked from Cam to the girl, then back to Cam. Goody-two-shoes was already buzzed, the pretty Drule was alone… "Why don't you go talk to her?" Lance would probably be out for a fair bit longer. They had time.

"Me? Nah, come on, she…" Cam shook his head. "She wouldn't go for me. I mean look at her, she's too cute."

Daniel looked hard at Cam, then eyed the girl for a minute too. "You're just as cute. And how do you know unless you try?"

"I just… wait, what did you say?" Cam blinked, looking at Daniel like he'd grown two heads.

"I said you're just as cute as she is." Daniel rolled his eyes, he didn't understand the big deal. Cam just stared at him.

"No I'm not. She's way out of my league."

He'd just finished rolling his eyes and now they were rolling all over again. "Boys are so stupid… I'm only gonna say this one more time. You are both semi-cute. Same level of cuteness. Just go talk to her!"

Cam grabbed his mocha; he was too bewildered and maybe too buzzed to even question that first part. "What would I even say to her?"

"I don't know!" He wasn't the one creeping on the Drule chick. "I mean, you just heard Lance flirt, take some inspiration from that."

"He was flirting with a mob boss holding us captive."

"Oh for fuck's sake. Still flirting. Same concept." I think.

Cam looked over at her again. "Nah, I couldn't…"

"Fine don't. I'm not going to beg you to go flirt with someone. Just keep watching her like a creep, talking about how lonely she looks." Daniel was pretty sure he might roll his eyes out of his head if this kept up.

Glaring, Cam tried to think of a good counter to that, and… well, one wasn't coming to mind. "Fine." He took a sip of his mocha for courage and slowly walked towards her. "Um… hi? Just wanted to say hi, and uh, you're beautiful."

"Thank you." She looked up and smiled, showing off her fangs.

"Wow… gorgeous smile."

She gave a little bit of a giggle. "You're quite the flatterer."

"I'm just being honest." Cam blushed. "Are you here alone?"

"Yes I am. Are you?" She asked.

"Not really." Cam pointed towards Daniel, who waved and then turned partly back towards the shop counter. But he was obviously still watching. "Just here with my friend. We were headed back to our ship, needed a coffee."

"Interesting friend." She found the black-haired human's lack of stealthy surveillance kind of sad.

"Yeah he's… crazy. I'm Cam."

"Nice to meet you, Cam. I'm Uko." She smiled again. He was pretty cute.

"Beautiful name. Makes me think of the stars…"

Uko raised her eyebrow. This guy was dorky, but definitely still cute, especially for an Earthling. "It's the name of an ancient hero," she explained, taking a sip of her own coffee.

This was going amazingly well, really… Cam flailed for something else to say and remembered Lance's line from earlier. That had worked so well on Dread, it should work here too—maybe knowing Drakure would impress her. Of course, he'd been very buzzed back at Dread's office, but he was pretty certain he'd gotten it… "Qu'urial ke svaldrumos se'var chor," he said carefully, grinning wider.

Immediately Uko's whole demeanor changed; her eyes narrowed and she jumped out of her seat. "Ya'kruoth!" Cam flinched, he knew what that meant—well, he knew it was profanity, anyway—she spat a few more indignant Drule curses and pulled a sleek laser pistol, squeezing off a shot. Who did this guy think he was? The nerve.

Daniel snapped his head up at the sound of laser fire, looking around for the source. It didn't take that much to find. Oh. Um. That's bad. He pulled out his own sidearm, running up and taking aim at the Drule, who called Cam a few more names and ran off.

"Shit… where are you hit?" He could see blood all over Cam's shirt, but not the source. The people screaming around them made it hard to hear his answer.

Not that the answer was actually helpful. "She… shot me! I told you she wouldn't be into me…"

"Where. Are. You. Hit?" Daniel all but yelled at him, then glanced around to see if any guards were incoming. So far so good.

"Tupaya bashka! Arm! What did she hit me with? A damn ship cannon?" Cam winced at his own voice; he was a little panicky, though he felt like he deserved to be. "My whole arm feels like it's on fire!" Calm. He needed to calm down. "Closer to my shoulder, though… think my hand is going numb."

Oh, that was even less good. Daniel wanted to check the wound, but they had to get out of there, fast. Grabbing him by the back of the collar Daniel started pulling him towards the door, earning a moan of protest that he ignored.

"Shit, shit, shit…"

After getting them outside, Daniel looked around in what wasn't exactly panic, but… urgency. Yeah. He could hear guards yelling behind them, and definitely didn't want to have to explain anything. Seeing an alley, he began pulling Cam along, sitting him up against the wall and ripping off the scorched part of his shirt. "That's a lot of blood…" He grimaced, pulling off his hoodie and shoving it into the wound, tying it around his shoulder. "Hold that there, okay?"

"Svyatoy yebat'!" Cam yelled in pain, though he knew it was the right move. "Yeah… okay." Pressing the cloth against the gunshot hurt like hell.

Daniel took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to do. The guard had gone in the opposite direction, so they had a little time, but they still needed to get out of there sooner rather than later. Looking up the alley he caught sight of a motorcycle parked on the side of a casino. That could work…

"Okay, I'll be right back. Just keep pressure on that," Daniel ordered, and then took off towards the bike.

"What?" Cam watched him take off, trying to sputter a protest, but it wasn't like he could follow. He just leaned against the wall and fought the exhaustion. He was starting to feel a bit lightheaded.

Hopping onto the bike, Daniel looked around to make sure no one was watching. Or at least no one who'd care. He was just about to rip into the wires, then realized contacting the medic was probably something he should do. He grabbed his datapad and put in a comm call, and then ripped into the wires.

Jace had just finished with Vince—which right now meant taking some blood and scheduling a followup for when he wasn't hung over—when he heard his datapad beeping. Upon seeing the caller he went through his entire repertoire of curses… twice… before answering.

"What now?"

"Hey Doc… so uh…" Daniel's voice was a little shaky. Whether that was because the wires in front of him were being a pain in the ass, or because Cam had gotten shot, he didn't know. "Cam's been shot."

"…What?" Jace's eyes narrowed a little, and his tone went very serious. "Where are you?"

"A casino. Not sure which one, I'm stealing a bike, we'll be there in a little bit. He said his arm was going numb and there was a lot of blood." He finally got the engine started, the bike firing up with a roar. "YES! Fuck."

"You're… of fucking course you are. Front starboard boarding ramp, I'll be waiting," Jace ordered. It wasn't exactly a threat, but maybe it was kind of a threat.

Nodding, not that the doc could see it, Daniel shoved his datapad back in his pocket and wheeled the bike around down the alley. "We gotta go buddy, still keeping the pressure on?"

"Where you been?" Cam asked weakly.

"Stealing this," Daniel told him matter-of-factly before putting him on the bike. Which was harder than he thought it was going to be… Cam was out of it, and he was heavier than him. But he was motivated. "Shove your shoulder into mine to keep the pressure on it, and hold on okay?" Sitting back down in front of Cam, Daniel eyed the blood smear on the wall where he'd been sitting. "Fuck."

"Yeah… sure. Doc… pissed," Cam asked—or maybe told him, Daniel couldn't tell.

Not that it mattered, his response was the same either way. "Oh yeah."

Turning the bike around, Daniel raced out of the alley and took off onto what was definitely not a road. There were people. Everywhere. Fuck. He didn't have time to maneuver through all these people. Revving the engine, hoping the loud noise would get them to move faster, he found a seam and shot through it. You'd think a bike coming at them would cause a better dispersal rate. Finally getting onto the street, Daniel hit the gas. He remembered the way back to the ship, thank god, but they were fairly far away.

Cam rested his head on Daniel's shoulder. Tired. Daniel sped up some more in response, pushing the bike as fast as it would go. He was definitely going faster than the speed limit, but this was probably the best excuse he was ever going to have. The bike was holding up great, it really was a nice machine.

"So sleepy," Cam informed him absently. Daniel could feel the wetness on his back. Shit. He was weaving between robo-cabs and shiny limousines, which he knew was 100% illegal but oh well. It was kind of like his racing game, but this bike wasn't gonna be running any of the much larger vehicles off the road… probably just as well, they were in enough trouble already.

The number of horns blaring behind them was kind of funny, though. He'd have enjoyed it much more if it weren't for the blood.

Finally they hit the spaceport. Thankfully, Dradin's port didn't even have a fence, let alone a checkpoint—that would've been a mess. "You doing okay, Cam? We're almost there." They were, Daniel could see the ship in the distance, and he gunned it. The lack of response was only worrying him more.

Jace had gotten the bay prepped for a gunshot in what had to be record time. Now he was pacing uneasily, staring out past the ramp, and finally he could hear the roar of an engine that wasn't a ship. Daniel drove the bike right up the ramp, rattling it a little, and the medic sidestepped as he hit the airlock.

"Seriously, he's already got a gunshot wound and you brought him here by driving a crotch rocket up the ramp?" He moved up to have a look at things, though he wasn't about to untie that hoodie until they were in the sick bay. "Nice field dressing. I've got him. You bring your ass along." Carefully slinging Cam over his shoulders, he headed for the elevator.

Daniel turned the bike off and followed. "Yes sir."

"Don't call me sir," Jace scolded, though a bit halfheartedly. "I work for a living."

"Sorry…"

"Ow! I'm awake! …Where the hell am I?" Cam was a little panicked again as his eyes flashed open, the neon streets replaced by the Bolt's dim main corridor.

"Good, and don't you fucking think about falling asleep on me. You're about to be bleeding all over my sick bay. Is it just the arm?" Jace questioned, stepping off the elevator and entering the sick bay.

"Y-yeah, think so? Close to my shoulder. Kinda shocked."

Nodding, Jace laid him out on one of the beds and pulled the cloth away from the wound. It wasn't great. Grimacing, he grabbed a couple of needles. "I'd tell you to brace, but you're not going to feel this anyway." Halamorphine was the fastest-acting painkiller he had, but it also worked best injected pretty much right into the wound; a needle wasn't going to do shit compared to the mess he was looking at. "Need you to stay awake until we know what's what, Starr. Brennan, keep him entertained if you have to, you can explain what the fucking fuck later."

"Yes, Doc." Daniel looked at Cam and winced. "My poor hoodie…"

"…You're acting way too obedient, this is your fault isn't it?"

"No it's not. Just worried about him is all." It wasn't his fault. It wasn't.

Jace brushed that off, it wasn't really his business whose fault it was. "Starr, give me more on your pain level."

"I feel fire down my arm. Fingers are tingly." The medic nodded in response, grabbed a scanner, and went completely silent as he watched it work. "He told me to flirt with a girl out of my league," Cam breathed out into the silence. "Didn't go… well."

Daniel cringed. Shut up, Cam. I could've come up with a cover story that was way less embarrassing than you being a sucky flirt, and attracted to psychos apparently… explaining this was going to suck anyway, they'd been told to go back to the ship. But they could at least make something up that would leave Cam's dignity mostly intact.

"And Lance wonders why I just pay for it. Don't get shit like this." Jace said that a bit flippantly, but became dead serious as he looked up from his scanner. "Laser shot? Tell me this was a laser shot."

"Yes," Cam and Daniel answered at the same time.

The medic stepped back and exhaled slowly. "You're gonna be fine." If it hadn't been a laser shot they'd have some much bigger problems. "Looks like it mostly just grazed you. Superheated your blood and blew some veins open. It's messy as fuck and your arm'll be burning for awhile, but it'll heal up nice."

"Thanks. You're awesome. Can I sleep yet?" Cam asked. The painkillers were taking the edge off, and it was only making him even more tired.

Jace snorted. "Yeah sure, you'll forget that in a week. I'm gonna stab you with a few more things, but you can sleep."

"Good…" The comms officer was out like Daniel's metaphorical light bulb the moment he finished speaking.

Daniel himself gave a long sigh of relief and half smiled, glad he was going to be okay; he could feel the adrenaline finally winding down. He snorted as he realized Cam was still cuddling the Syndicate glass… well, whatever made him happy.

Staring at Cam, Jace shook his head. "…The one fucking day the medic is sick. That's the day you decided to get shot, you fucking idiot." As he relaxed a little, he could feel the splitting headache trying to return, but shook it off. More work to do… he looked at Daniel, who was looking a little worried again. "But he's gonna be fine."

"Positive?"

"Yeah. Bitchin' scar though."

"Good." Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. That had been way more excitement than even he needed out of his day.

Jace eyed him, then started setting up a couple of IVs. "Okay. I need to finish getting him stabilized and clean this out. Burns attract infection like fuck. And my head hurts way too much to be lied to, and I probably don't wanna know the truth anyway… so how about I promise not to ask what happened or tell the boss anything, and you get the fuck out of here and don't come back until I've got him sorted out. Deal?"

That was… completely acceptable, really. "Deal." Daniel walked out, relieved, but his mind was racing. He needed to come up with a cover story that didn't make it seem like they didn't disobey orders, or he and Cam might end up dead after all.

*****

Venturing out from the shelters always required a balancing act. Smaller groups were more flexible, and could conceal their movements more easily, but they were also more vulnerable if discovered. More often than not, it was worth the risk. What was left of the Dolce Vita militia had an unofficial policy against sending out groups larger than four for hunting or scouting. If a mission was critical enough, more might be an option.

This mission was not critical enough.

Larmina understood it, intellectually. Captain Sarial had less than twenty soldiers at her command; she had to be brutally realistic about how to deploy them. Giving the bodies near Elauria a proper disposal was a symbolic gesture. Such symbolism had always been important on Arus… but now it was just one more luxury they couldn't afford.

It was the right decision, she knew that. But it was infuriating. And if the grim look in the eyes of her companions was any hint, they were just as angry as she was.

Three of them were venturing back to the mountains. For them, it wasn't just a luxury. Maybe they had to purge the images from their own minds with fire.

"It's almost too quiet." Allendar looked up at the sky and frowned. They'd chosen to come out at twilight. Easiest to hide themselves that way—there would be no hiding the flames no matter what. "What if they're setting an ambush?"

"Trash ambush," Hanso snorted. "If the sinycka were going to jump us, they'd have done it when we found the site in the first place, don't you think?"

"Maybe? This was a new tactic."

"'Tactic' is giving them a lot of credit. They're just throwing tantrums because they can't find King Alfor."

Larmina eyed them both skeptically. She could only imagine how the High King would react to the idea that villages were being enslaved and destroyed just because he was still at large… though she doubted that was the only thing at play. "I don't think they really need an excuse."

"True. They're bloodthirsty creatures no matter what."

They were approaching the site. Fortunately, the chill of winter was heavy by now, no sun to hasten the bodies rotting away. A new wave of fury went through Larmina at that thought. Drule warship lasers would easily incinerate flesh, they knew that… too well. The ship hadn't used its lasers. That could only have been an extra layer of insult, leaving the bodies for the scavengers. Fine, then. If they were watching the site, they would see that Arus refused to have insult added to injury.

They were getting very near the clearing now. Larmina hadn't told her companions about the scout accompanying them… like they'd believe her. "Stay here. I'll check things out." She crept forward before they could object, slipping through some underbrush, then opened up the pouch at her side. A furry head popped out. "Okay, Cheesy, do your thing."

Cheesy darted forward; she watched its tail poking up from the grass as it circled the clearing. A few times she lost sight of it, and that worried her—what did she do if she lost Auntie's space mouse? But it always came back into view a few moments later. And soon enough it came scampering back up to her, chittering excitedly.

She couldn't interpret its squeaks, but much like the banewolves, space mice had ways of making themselves understood. In this case, giving her a thumbs-up with one tiny paw. "Thank you," she whispered, opening her pouch for the mouse to climb back into, then she returned to Hanso and Allendar. "It's clear."

"Let's move while it stays that way."

They were still cautious as they broke free of the thick underbrush into the clearing, looking in all directions at once. A thick column of smoke was rising from Mount Kolipat in the distance. It was one of at least twelve active volcanoes along the accurately named Burning Ridge; the largest and most active of them, it was usually giving off at least a bit of smoke and ash. Today it seemed like some sort of omen.

"Let's do this fast." Even Hanso looked ill.

A few pieces of jewelry and other personal effects were scattered over the ground; those they collected, to return to Elauria when they could. As for the bodies, well… there had been a small stockpile of fireblossom cactus pods in the shelter as last-ditch defensive weapons. They were basically organic incendiary grenades. It wasn't the most respectful way of burning the bodies, but it was what they had.

They worked from the center of the clearing outward, tossing the pods down and stepping well back from the resulting embers. A single matchflint tossed into the mess ensured the smoldering pollen caught fully aflame. And once it did, there was only one more step.

"Run for it!"

They sprinted further into the foothills. The flames shouldn't spread—the clearing had been stripped to the soil by the Drule weapons—but even if they didn't, standing around next to a huge bonfire on an enemy-occupied planet, at night, was what could fairly be called incredibly stupid. They didn't stop until they reached the top of a large hill, where a cluster of yukol trees could provide some cover as they looked back at the fire.

"Silent one, guide them through the gates," Allendar murmured.

"Radiant Warrior, help us avenge them," Hanso added darkly.

"What they said," Larmina agreed. She still wasn't entirely certain how much faith she had in the Golden Gods right now… but invoking the banewolves directly seemed like it would only get her in trouble.

A deep growl echoed from the mountains.

Larmina froze. Her first thought was the Drules, obviously… but as soon as it crossed her mind it was gone again. It wasn't them, it couldn't be. It reminded her of the strange growls in the Forest of Altair. But where those growls had seemed to flow through and embrace her, this one was nothing but a weak echo. And yet…

"Larmina?" The other two were looking at her strangely, and she relaxed. A little. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just startled me, that's all." They didn't seem the least bit worried; maybe it was something natural, something they were familiar with. "Was that one of the volcanoes?"

Both of them just kept staring at her for a moment longer, then Allendar tilted his head. "Was what a volcano?"

She blinked. "That sound?" It had been distant, but in the silence around them she couldn't see how they might have missed it.

Now they did look worried. "I didn't hear anything. Hanso?"

"Nope." He looked up, eyes darting over the still-darkening sky. "We'd be able to hear engines if it was the Drules… not sure what a volcano sounds like, gotta think we'd know it if we heard though."

As if on cue, the sound came again. Still faint, but still unmistakable. Larmina tensed. "That! That kind of… growling noise."

Now they really looked worried. "You sure you're okay?" Hanso asked finally. "You've been pushing like crazy since you brought that deer back, maybe you should take a break when we—"

"—I'm not imagining it!" She looked at Allendar. Hanso could be a prankster sometimes, but his partner didn't tend to be. "You really don't hear anything?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, looking apologetic. "But I think we should get back to the caves… just in case."

That was an idea Larmina could definitely get behind. She still didn't think the growl was dangerous, at all… but it was as unsettling as ever. And she really didn't need it following her out of the forest. "Let's move."

As they started to pick their way back through the foothills, Mount Kolipat continued to silently smoke in their wake.