Pixie Hazard, Archibald Bradford [100 best novels of all time .TXT] 📗

on turning herself into the most lethal redhead in the universe.

She was definitely in the top fifty.

So far her guarded strategy had been working, but Bunny was steadily softening her defenses, which meant that poor Eva had to find an outlet for ten years worth of sexual tension. Killing people didn’t quite scratch the itch like it used to and fingering herself alone in her bunk wasn’t cutting it anymore either.

She sighed as she gave up on her exercises, then activated the console next to her bed and browsed to a familiar shopping site on the slipspace datanet.

The kind of site that Bunny would visit.

But while scrolling through the various product offerings her mind inevitably drifted back to Davie: reckless little Davie, once so terrified and helpless, now acting like a complete whore for the amusement of her so-called girlfriend.

In the end Eva powered down the console without placing an order.

She double checked that her knife was in a good position beneath her pillow before flopping down and trying to get back to sleep.

Her dreams were plagued with confusing images of her and Davie’s hellish childhood, side by side with the erotic cat-girl that so confounded her.

__________

Meanwhile, while the various shipmates were resting or fucking, Donnie and Billy were triple checking their exo-rigs in the drop-pod locker room below the tactical operation center.

It was technically Eniella’s job, and she certainly had done it already, but the veterans preferred to check their own gear.

“You have a plan for if this doesn’t pan out?” The doctor asked.

Donnie shrugged.

“Suicide pact. I do you, then you do me.”

“Oh no, you can go first, I insist.” Billy replied with a smirk, but her levity was short lived; “Seriously Donjoon. What are we going to do if this is a dead-end?”

Her use of the captain’s full name undercut just how concerned she was.

“Don’t ask me questions you know I can’t answer. Why can’t you just blindly trust me like Bunny does?”

The corner of the Asian woman’s mouth twitched again.

“I will, and have, followed you into the tightest spots you could find. But you and I both know how this story could end. We’re closer to the edge now than we’ve been since leaving the service. We won’t have enough food to get anywhere with a grocery store if we stay on Kentis for longer than two weeks.”

“Three if we starve Maria. But I take your point. We were supposed to resupply once we rendezvoused with Demarco’s contact. But without the cash from that deal...” She shrugged helplessly.

Billy shook her head as she refitted the armoured panel into the chest of her suit with a smack of her balled fist, satisfied that the suit’s augmentation gyros were configured correctly.

“I can’t help but agree with Eva about that man. If anyone on that station deserves a bullet, it’s him.”

Likewise refitting the armour plates to her rig, Donnie turned and pursed her lips at the doctor.

“You’re more than welcome to stuff a ball in his mouth and break out the riding crop next time we see him. But don’t be surprised when you catch a bullet yourself for your trouble. He’s a bit of a tubster but he’s a slick one, don’t underestimate him just because he talks good.”

“‘Talks good?’”

“You know what I meant. Now come on. Let’s go eat the last of the ice-cream and gossip about boys while everyone else is asleep.”

That got a quick laugh out of the doctor.

“You got a death-wish? Whatever, I’m game.”

Donnie climbed up the ladder into the tactical operating room below the cockpit, waiting for Billy to follow and close the hatch behind her before heading out into the common room.

Seeing that there was no one else around, she opted for one last comment on their earlier conversation.

“Look, I’m trying not to freak out the crew too much. So maybe let’s not mention all that heavy shit about being close to the edge yeah?”

“I’d be a lousy first officer if I did. Now go get the bowls, I’ll get the spoons.”

Chapter 3: Falling Pixies

Their various kinky activities notwithstanding, several hours later the crew arrived at Kentis more or less well-rested and raring to go.

The majority of them were gathered in the sealed drop-pod on the ship’s belly, all save Davie and Eniella who were both sitting in the cockpit, back to back in the flight seat and the fire control respectively.

If shit went sideways on Kentis, the Pixie Hazard would be the one doing the heavy lifting in a firefight, so they needed their FCO to have her finger on the trigger.

As was the case with any gunship, the cockpit was hardened from the rest of the vessel, to ensure that the bridge crew could operate it right to the bitter end. The curved plex-glass that afforded the pilot and crew a view of space could be covered up in less than two seconds by a retractable and extra thick layer of armour plating.

When it came to combat in space, the various sensors and scopes were far more important than the naked eye.

And Pixie was custom, bitches.

The ship’s original cockpit design required a three man flight-crew: pilot, navigator and fire control, sitting in a neat front-facing triangle with the pilot in the fore, navigator on the left, and weapons on the right.

But Davie was qualified to wear two hats, serving as both the pilot and navigator. So one of the first things Kyle did when he came onboard was heavily modify the cockpit so she didn’t need to keep switching chairs.

After removing all of the original seating he installed a Lancer class short-range fighter’s dual seat block they’d salvaged, with the two seats back-to-back and facing in opposite directions to maximize space.

He then updated the navigation console and