Varia grits her teeth and visibly works to control her temper. She’s been getting better at that ever since she and Solair paired up. I guess they really do complement each other rather well. That makes me think about how I might complement Grantian for some reason, but I quickly dispel such thoughts before I get all worked up again.
“Lamira, this is no game. Yes, IHC Security won’t have a presence, but there are a lot of desperate people on Kyvos. A lot of folks get stranded there, either because they don’t have the necessary Visa to get to Alliance or IHC space, or because the ship they came in on is too badly damaged to go any further. Or they just plain can’t afford to go any further. Ten million creds a head is a lot of money. It literally could mean life or death for some of them.”
“I know, but you can’t just keep me cooped up here on this ship because it might be dangerous.” I sigh and put my hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re looking out for me and I appreciate it, but I’m not your child. I’m your best friend.”
Varia nods, patting my hand on her shoulder, but I can tell she’s not happy. I struggle to make myself useful by improving upon our disguises.
It all begins when I empty a bottle of engine oil on top of Varia’s head. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Relax, it washes out much easier than you’d expect, and your hair will feel great afterward. But for now, you look too glamorous.”
Marion laughs and rubs oil in her own hair. “She’s right, Varia. We’ve got to look like we don’t just work in the dirt. We live in it.”
It becomes a lighthearted game, the three of us finding new and creative ways to dirty each other up. By the time we’re finished, I’d be hard pressed to recognize myself, let alone Varia and Marion.
Varia, of course, can’t stop worrying about the girls. While she’s rubbing her hands together briskly to get filth caked into her fingerprints, she looks up at Marion. “How have the girls been holding up? I mean, ever since, uh…”
“Since that poor girl slipped into a coma?” Marion finishes for her. “Everyone’s worried about her, of course, but they trust you to look out for us, Varia.”
“Hey, Marion?” she turns her attention to me as I finish lacing up worn shoes about a size too big. “When the woman was cognizant for a few moments, she screamed something about not wanting to go back to a place called Solace. Does that ring any bells with you?”
“Solace?” Marion blinks several times and shakes her head. “I can’t say it does.”
“None of us have ever heard of it, either.” Varia purses her lips and frowns, her eyes clouded with trouble. “But it’s obvious that wherever or whatever it is, she did not want to go back.”
“Wherever or whatever?” Varia turns toward Marion and arches an eyebrow.
“If you think about it, Solace could be a place, or it could be a ship. Or it could be a specific facility on a planet.” Varia shakes her head before rubbing the bridge of her now filthy nose. “God. We have enough to worry about right now without adding this new enigma to the mix.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze in what I hope is a comforting manner. “I know what you mean. Ever since I heard her mention Solace, I can’t help but wonder if it’s got anything to do with what happened to us. Maybe we were on our way to this Solace, or on our way away from it?” Varia nods but seems unconvinced. “Or maybe it was the delusional rantings of a woman brought too quickly out of cryosleep and had no way of knowing what’s real and what’s a dream. There’s no way to be sure with so little to go on.”
She grins, her teeth startlingly bright while framed by her dirty face. “Come on, let’s stop thinking about this for a bit and go join the boarding party. I can’t wait to see how Solair reacts when he sees us like this.”
We head down to the cargo hold, which also functions as the main egress and ingress to the Queen. Several of the people we pass in the corridor frown in confusion, which I think means our disguises are working, for now.
“Remember, ladies.” Varia takes us each in with her gaze, eyes fierce below her greasy bangs. “It’s important that we don’t act like fugitives. No sneaking around or acting scared. We march right through the port like we belong there because that’s what greaser girls would do.”
“I’m so ready for this.” I can’t help smiling. There’s something liberating about being covered in dirt. It’s been said that the galaxy is superficial, that appearances are vitally important to success. Women especially seem to be under a lot of pressure to look good all the time, and right now that’s the furthest thing from our minds. We can just be, and I guess I’ve always kind of envied the greaser girls for that aspect of their vocation.
I don’t envy the stereotypes they have to put up with—for example, all greaser girls are not masculine types who prefer sleeping with women—but I do find pretending to be one for a while something easy and natural, like putting on old shoes. They might be worn out and shabby looking, but they sure are comfortable.
When we get down to the cargo hold, Solair, Kintar, and Grantian are all clustered in a group next to several empty hover sleds. We stride right up to them, and while they look in our direction, it’s obvious that they don’t recognize us.
Even Grantian peers in my direction without so much as a glimmer of recognition. I think his nostrils flare, as if he’s offended by the aroma of engine oil, but then he’s back to speaking with Solair.
Varia and I exchange glances, trying not to laugh. They have no idea it’s us.
“Excuse me, captain?” Varia speaks in a low, deep tone, disguising her voice. “When are we to depart?”
“Ah…” Solair grins nervously as he tries to recall this “unknown” greaser girl’s name. “That is, we will be touching down on the moon of Kyvos soon, but we are awaiting several more of your number before we depart.”
“I see. And who are we waiting for?’
Solair blinks several times and then clears his throat. “Well, my mate Varia will be…”
We all burst into laughter, nearly falling over ourselves. It takes Solair several more seconds to realize what’s going on, and then he too begins to roar with mirth.
“Am I missing the joke?” Grantian peers between us, but he only gets the glinting dawn of recognition in his big gold eyes when I blow him a kiss. “Astounding. I had no idea.”
The lights flash on the bulkheads as the Queen settles down for a landing on the rocky terrain, the pre-recorded touchdown notification is drowned out by our enthused laughter.
Chapter Eight
Grantian
Lamira, Varia, and Marion certainly did a bang-up job disguising themselves as greaser girls. Despite now being accustomed to the scent of his mate, Solair didn’t even recognize Varia, and I didn’t realize it was her until they started laughing.
Good gods, sometimes Lamira is just too much. I don’t know how I’m going to go about it, but the desire to kiss her is nearly frantic within me, rising to a fever pitch. I just want to know what I already so strongly suspect. To discover whether she feels the same. I’m desperate to know.