Queen & Commander (Book One of the Hive Queen Saga)

Chapter Twenty: Delivery Day

This was the most crowded Rhiannon’s command center had ever been. While the pilot still sat up in the pilot house, the remainder of her Hive stood with her beneath it. They made an oasis of humanity, surrounded by blinking consoles full of possibilities that defied her current understanding.

No windows showed the reality outside. She could only guess.

After Llewellyn’s departure, they’d opened the box to find a few baggies of some unknown substance atop a bed of plastic deposit squares. Rhiannon hadn’t known whether to be dismayed or unsurprised.

Now, a week from the start of this whole blackmail scheme, her Cauldron floated in space across from another ship. The Llyr’s Llambo was a third again larger than the Cauldron and darker, a black blot on the emptiness of space. What kind of people trafficked drugs and money out here? What kind of people lived in that gloomy vessel?

No matter. She’d make the delivery. Then her Hive could get out of the situation and the area. Could get back on a legitimate path. Could get outsystem and be free. Maybe they could apprentice themselves to a larger, more experienced ship until they were ready to strike out on their own. Luciano in particular will like that, finally getting Medical training.

Speaking of Luciano... She wrapped sweaty palms around the ladder rungs and ascended to the pilot house. She peeked her head over the floor and asked, “Are our friends still out there?”

He jumped and bashed his head against his chair’s headrest. Oops.

“Hey,” he said. Sometimes she wondered what Luciano was thinking about. A simple Hey didn’t give her much to go on. “Yeah. They’re hovering. They haven’t tried to contact us, though, I don’t think.”

She nodded to acknowledge his report and firmed her mouth. The texts said that would make her look serious. “Right. Let’s fix that.” She dropped back down to the command room’s floor where the rest of her Hive waited. They should be present for this momentous communication. They shouldn’t have to wait for her second-hand story about the vile criminals who held their lives in taloned hands.

At her motion, Alan placed a ship-to-ship call, audio only. They waited. They waited for the talks to begin. They waited for this madness to end. They waited for danger or absolution.

“Hello?” It was a man’s voice. Gravelly and hopeful. “Who’s there?”

Her turn. “This is Commander Ceridwen of Ceridwen’s Cauldron. I’ve, uh, got your package. How do you want it delivered?”

“It? It!” The man was not happy about how she’d described his box of drugs and money. “By all means, tell me your plans for delivering it.”

Uh, okay. “Do you have anything for making a deep space transfer?” Because she certainly didn’t. Or, if she did, she didn’t know what it was or where it lived. Life would be so much easier with magical teleporters. I’ll have to get Alan on inventing that. She quashed an inappropriate giggle at the thought of Alan casting spells over his equipment and chanting bizarre physics formulae whenever they needed to send an object or person across long distances.

The man harrumphed, the sound like rocks sliding against each other before settling in a precarious pile. “We’ll attach our boarding tube. You can come over and bring it with you, your ladyship.” His use of her title was anything but obsequious.

The call went silent.

“He cut the transmission,” Gavin said unnecessarily. Incredulously. “I thought your people didn’t hang up on Queens. That it was a point of honor.”