The Venture
(c) Isabo Kelly

"Hey Cal."

"What?" Cal snapped, dragging his attention from the damaged heating coil to scowl at his captain. "This ship isn't getting fixed if you keep interrupting me."

"Watch your attitude," Captain Jesser said pleasantly. "You're not the only engineer in the galaxy."

"Only one you'll get to keep this pile of shit space worthy." Cal stopped scowling and raised a dark eyebrow. "Who the hell is this?" He pointed at the boy standing next to Jesser. Perfect white teeth split the boy's ebony face.

"Cal, meet the newest member of the Venture crew."

Cal went back to scowling. That look, a lowering of heavy eyebrows over black eyes, the hardening of an already unyielding mouth, was usually enough to intimidate the hardest of pirates. The boy just kept smiling up at him. "He's just a kid," he finally grunted. "What use'll he be?"

He studied the kid's blue cap of hair, his purple self-assured eyes, the loose fit of his red tunic and green pants. He wasn't carrying an obvious blaster, though he might have a knife hidden in the folds of his cloths. He held his head tilted to one side so he could look at Cal out of the side of his face, and he kept his hands in his pockets-pockets Cal was sure were empty or Jesser wouldn't have let him get this far. He had seen hundreds of kids just like this one dirtying the streets of a dozen planets and moons. He couldn't see anything different about this one. Nothing that might keep him alive working on a smuggler's ship.

"Don't underestimate him, Cal," Jesser cautioned, then chuckled at Cal's disbelieving grunt. "Kid's good. Quick. He's wanted on three planets already."

"For what?"

"Robbery and a few con scams."

"What'd ya do, kid, sell pieces of Terac moon rock or fake ship parts?"

The kid winked at Cal, but didn't answer. "Give it a rest, Cal," Jesser said, "I've checked on him. He's good. And he can hide from the law better than a mouse from a cat. Hey," his big pink hand dropped onto the boy's shoulder, "how 'bout that's what we call you, eh kid? Mouse."

The kid's easy grin widened. Cal snorted.

"Besides," Jesser gave Cal a level stare, "we need another pair of hands for this voyage."
Cal couldn't argue with that, though he wasn't sure this kid would be any better than the back-up droids they were having to use. The Venture was running on a skeleton crew-only eleven humans, twelve with the kid. Ever one of the Binneans and the rest of the humans that had crewed the ship had signed off at the last outpost. None of them wanted to travel with the cargo Jesser was picking up at this stop.

Jesser glanced over his shoulder as a disturbance broke out across the docking bay. A crowd had gathered near the dropped steel doors leading into the huge building that secured space crafts landing on Eonin. Cal spared it a glance but was more concerned with the multitude of repairs he had to get to before they could leave this blasted desert moon. A rush of hot, dry air from outside swirled through the climate-controlled bay, making Cal shiver. Gods he missed the cool, humid climate of his home planet, Deven, sometimes.

"Looks like our cargo is having a bit of trouble getting past the checks," the Captain commented without tone or emotion. But his gray gaze stayed focused intently on the argument breaking out. "Cal, look after Mouse. He's good with machines, so I'm assigning him to you. Show him the run down." Jesser didn't wait for a response before crossing the metal floor to the bay doors.

Cal caught sight of a hooded white face a foot above the humans blocking the entrance. He turned his back on the noise and went back to his repairs.

"So what's your real name, kid?" He didn't look at the boy when he asked, keeping most of his attention on the welding laser pen he was running methodically over one of three breeches in the coil.

"Mouse."

Cal snapped off the welder and stared at the kid's grin. For the first time since he'd opened the paneling lining the ship's hull to confront this latest bout of repairs, Cal chuckled. That gravel against metal sound usually disturbed people as much as his scowl. But Mouse just kept grinning at him. "Good with machines, huh?"

Mouse nodded. "Pretty good."

"Hum," Cal grunted. "Maybe I will be able to use you then." Shaking his head he clicked on the welder again. "Now don't bother me. This is delicate work."

Mouse kept his mouth shut and sat nearby on a temp ladder running down from the top of the ship. Cal managed to repair two of the three breeches before he was interrupted again. The noise from across the bay had fallen silent just after Jesser had joined the argument. It started up again, though quieter and more subdued, when the Leeches came back into the launch bay.

Cal put down the welder and wiped the sweat from his palms along his olive green pants. He stepped closer to Mouse, leaning against the ladder to watch the procession heading toward the Venture's open rear cargo hatch.

"I still can't believe Jesser agreed to haul their kind." The soft, husky voice pulled Cal's attention from the procession. Lena emerged from under the hull of the ship, her high ponytail just brushing the hull, and sauntered toward him. An exotic, spicy scent proceeded her. Her black hair was lined with circling red strips that reminded Cal of a wicked sort of candy cane. She wore her usual skin tight flight suit and a very prominent blaster in her utility belt. Mouse whistled softly from behind Cal, making Lena smile. Her cat green eyes crinkled at the corners. "Who's the kid?" she asked Cal.

"Lena, this is Mouse. Jesser's just brought him aboard. Mouse, this is the Venture's ace pilot, Lena Ray."

Mouse hopped off the ladder and bowed low from the waist.

"Cute," Lena purred. Her expression turned serious as she glanced at the group collected around the cargo hatch. A slight snarl distorted her heart-shaped lips. "I hate Leeches," she growled very quietly.

Cal nodded, his gaze also drawn to the group again. "Not overly fond of 'em, myself."

There were maybe twenty of the mutants gathered around the rear of the Venture. It was hard to tell an exact number. They moved with the sort of flowing grace of a bee swarm, making it impossible to count them. Even when separated, they flowed as one, their movements coordinated into a bigger, complex dance. All of the Leeches were impossibly tall and skeletal beneath their maroon robes and onyx colored cloaks. The hoods pulled up over their bleached white, hairless faces seemed to accentuate more than hide the yellow glow of their eyes. Outside, in the darkness of Eonin's short night, those eyes would light like torches. Cal shook off a shudder as a warning line of sweat trickled between his shoulder blades.

No one ever really wanted to smuggle Leeches. They were one of the most dangerous cargo a ship could haul. And not just because they were illegal on so many planets that it was almost impossible to find a port to land in. Some planetary governments would shoot down any ship known to be hauling Leeches. But smugglers were a hard lot, use to risks. And even most of them didn't want to risk being on a ship with Leeches.

Cal would never leave Venture; he'd put too many hours into keeping it in one piece. The ship was as much a part of him as his own arm. It was as much his as it was Jesser's at this point. But for the first time in the more than twenty years since he'd joined the crew, he'd actually considered signing off when Jesser told them about the Leeches.

"What you got against Leeches," Mouse asked from a position safely behind Cal and Lena. The boy's light, alto voice was quiet.

"You like something that can drain the life out of you with a touch, kid?" Cal asked. "More tolerant than I am."

A line of large metal cargo containers was being loaded into the hold by droids and a few of the Venture's human crew, all under the close watch of the Leeches and their own human "pets". The Leeches kept their hands discretely tucked inside the large sleeves of their robes, but the human crew members still cringed away every time one of the creatures moved too close.

"You don't like them, why's the Captain hauling them?" Mouse asked, now speaking only just above a whisper.

"Questioning the Captain's decisions already?" Cal glanced down at the boy. "You aren't gonna last long that way, kid."

Mouse raised his chin, defiance flashing in his purple eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.
"They pay well," Lena said, breaking the tense moment. "They pay a fortune."

Because Cal was watching, he saw the greed flash in Mouse's eyes, followed quickly by wariness and calculation. And the faint hint of fear. Well, Cal thought, maybe the kid would survive after all. He glanced back at the Leeches. Maybe.

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