Outrageous Fortune-Errant Freight Book One

Chapter 32

Jinna eventually gravitated back to the galley, which looked much better than when she and John had cobbled together tea, earlier. She made a closer inspection of several dings in the cabinetry, and found some were older than a few hours, telling her the Errant had seen more than a little action.

Then again, so had the Errant's crew. And so, for that matter, had she.

Like most Fordians, Jinna had grown up with the sound of air-raid klaxons, under the constant threat of attack from Coalition forces.

Nike might have its issues—Killian smogging Del chief among them—but, like most of Avon, Nike had also escaped the overt destruction Ford was still digging out from.

And now, thanks to Killian smogging Del, she was on the run from the home she'd just begun to build for herself and her child.

She felt the frustrated tears starting and, rather than allow them to fall, huffed out a determined breath while also giving her hormones the order to stand down.

As if in tune with her thoughts, the baby within danced a jig. "You're right," she said, rubbing the spot where a hand, foot, or elbow was poking out, "enough moping."

To distract herself from any lurking mopes, she commenced poking through the cupboards and the (yay) functioning cold-unit for whatever might become a meal for the crew. Cooking had a way of calming her, and might just keep her from kicking Rory in the shins the next time he came in range.

On that not-so-soothing thought, she forced herself to focus on her inventory, which uncovered a stash of dried udon noodles, dehydrated tomatoes and mushrooms, some kale, a tin of beans, and a lump of hard cheese.

No fresh herbs but some dried basil, garlic, and thyme in Corps-stamped containers huddled behind the tea stash.

Not quite Kit's larder, but she could work with it, and, pleased to see the Errant's water tanks were full, started a pot of noodles to boiling.

* * *

Since the fight with John, and murdering one of their few surviving bowls, Jagati had been prowling the 'ship like a bear dog, cleaning up more of the wreckage and generally avoiding people.

Her wanderings eventually brought her back to the third deck, where the sound of activity filtered out of the galley. Shoulder to the doorframe, Jagati peered around the corner and huffed out a breath. "Jerk."

The red-and-gold head spun towards the door and Jagati shook her own. "Not you, me. Jumping at shadows."

"Understandable," Jinna said, turning back to her work.

Jagati came the rest of the way into the galley, snapped an uncooked piece of dried udon, and sat down at the table, where she started to crunch it.

"How does that taste?" Jinna asked, looking over her shoulder, hands frozen above the bamboo cutting board, knife in one, a bunch of dried tomatoes in the other.

"Like nothing. It's all about the crunch," she said, smushing the bits together to form a pasta-spit patty, which she showed to Jinna.

"That is so gross." Jinna grimaced before turning back to the cutting board. "When this one's a toddler," she said, jerking her chin down at her belly, "I'll be bringing her... or him... to learn from the master." The blade in her hands minced with brisk efficiency, until the shriveled lengths of tomato were a pile of small bits, next to the brownish bits Jagati recognized as the mushrooms she'd ignored last time she cooked.

Jinna took both piles and tossed them into the cast-iron pan at her left elbow, where oil had already been heating. A small pile of dried herbs followed, scenting the air with fragrance. Jinna gave this a stir with a spoon that had survived the rampage, set it aside, and began to chop the kale.