Day Eleven

A brawl was brewing amongst the mercenaries, their curses thick molasses in the heavy atmosphere. Small blue-green sparks began to flicker across the ceiling tiles, causing the orbs to shiver. The one who had attempted to set Betaine's coat on fire was almost screeching, dashing back and forth in a half-circle, his shouts rippling the air. Books were flung about, fluttering like crows to the floor and hands used to a dozen different weapons twitched impotently or clenched in concentration.
"You sick, rotten son of a slut! I'll wrap your intestines around your heart until it pops..."
The words fell, clunky, stone-like, on sudden silence. Glasses had been gathered and a peaceful tableau resumed in the group, save for the screamer. The anger on his face spasmed with nervousness and uncertainty as he stood alone, still bouncing from foot to foot. Betaine opened his eyes and saw the same bubbly Steeress from before, smiling the same brittle smile.
"Bethany, I can explain," said the smaller mercenary, "he's young and stupid. I'll thrash him well when we get to Regulskek."
The girl took one, two steps forward, was less than a meter from Betaine, ignored his presence completely.
"Yes you will, Ober, but his disruption of the lights has disturbed the Controller, not to mention the teeny infraction he's committed against the esteemed guest of the goddess, Bala. The captain wishes to see him."
Ober paled under his leathery tan, glared half in pity and disgust at his now scared piss-less companion.
"You dumb sack of waste, I hope you enjoyed that potshot at the uptight little fucker (no offense meant). I'm canceling your contract when we get home."
"But sir..."
"Don't sir me anymore, you get stupid enough to hit a VIP, I'm not having you at my back. He's all yours, Bethany."
She clapped her thin, pale hands together twice, softly and the man simply wasn't there anymore.
"He'll be back within the hour."
Ober snorted softly, nervously fingered his rolled collar.
"You can kick him off and charge me the fees. He was out of my jurisdiction the moment he used that igniter and I apologize for the problem."
Bethany tilted her shiny blond head to the side.
"Was this before or after you tried to get him yourself, Ober? We would not like to disturb his mistress. She owns the only landing field large enough for the wheels in this system."
She watched him squirm for a moment, then folded her hands behind her back and widened her smile before pivoting on the heel of her thick-heeled boot. Even when her eyes met Betaine's, there was no acknowledgment there.
"I do hope you will not take offense, please, at the actions against you by the ah, former member of the Red Dragon Cell. If you require medical assistance, please let me know. All expenses will be covered by Master Ober."
The mercenary's gaze flickered between Betaine and Bethany as if expecting the air between them to crack and freeze.
Betaine felt the glossy wall of her personality, the obsidian shiny core that blacked out the frenzied noise of the other passengers and spoke of heavy rejection training. Of course she would have it. There was no better protection against the abilities of the passengers, even at the cost of being sealed away from the cycles of ambient energy that fed sentient existence in the Universe. A shortened life span, the indescribable aloneness of being a null point in your own racial memory...
"There will be meals served shortly, please, in the main kitchen for general passengers who so desire. You, sir, may dine when you please."
The words bounced like a soap bubble through the lounge and Bethany turned sharply, left the commons area down a lemon yellow corridor.