The Crew Who Came in From the Cold, page 1
The Crew Who Came in From the Cold
Tales of Fortune
Book Two
Kathleen McClure
Kelley McKinnon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Kathleen McClure and Kelley McKinnon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN-13: 978-1-947842-21-2
Published by:
Outrageous Fiction, an imprint of Fadge Press
13359 North Highway 183
Suite 406-587
Austin, TX 78750
USA
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Edited by Lori Diederich
Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design
0923
Welcome to the Fortune-verse
Dear Reader,
This Tale of Fortune is a direct sequel to Outrageous Fortune, and is part of the wider Fortune-verse, which includes The Gideon Quinn Adventures and Errant Freight novels as well as the Tales of Fortune.
In addition, the characters from all of these stories wander through each other’s narratives from time to time, in ways we hope you will enjoy.
To everyone fighting to live as their true selves.
Leave your past on your ground, lest it weigh you down.
Colonial Air Corps Motto
What’s past is prologue…
William Shakespeare
Prelude
Nike City, Avon
The Frayed Rigging
February 16, 1449 After Landing
Jagati slouched in her chair, took another sip of the Rigging’s nutty ale, and watched Eitan wend his way to the pub’s excuse for a dance floor, only belatedly realizing that his desertion had left her alone with John.
She briefly wondered if he’d done it on purpose, but turning back so see him sliding into the dance, she figured Eitan was simply being Eitan and relaxing in his own way.
Given the hornet’s nest of their last job, everyone on the crew could use some relaxation.
Even now, Jagati had trouble believing their struggling freight company had ended up at the center of an illegal tech scheme.
They’d come out of it okay, and in the Keepers’ good graces, but they hadn’t come out of it unscarred.
She rubbed the side of her leg, where the bandage itched, and glanced back to Eitan, who had found himself a dance partner.
“Think she’ll take him home?” she asked John.
He followed her gaze towards their crewmate. “If she doesn’t, half the pub will be following him back to the Errant.”
She grunted her agreement, then turned her glass around on itself a few times.
“So—” he began.
“I think we should—” she said at the same time.
They both stopped. “You first,” he said.
“Ugh.” She stopped turning the glass and rapped her knuckles on the table as she considered the conversation she, John, and Eitan had just finished. “It’s just, all that talk about sensing and emotions and that minute in the cargo bay and . . .” Her voice clogged as she recalled the moment she and John had kissed—and what a kiss it had been. Then she hissed and shook her head. “Listen, sure, for kids like Rory and Jinna, it’s simple,” she said, referring to their mechanic and the young woman he’d been secretly pining over for years. Thankfully, Rory had taken Jinna and his starry-eyed self back to the Errant, leaving the grownups to enjoy their evening in peace.
“Young they may be,” John countered, “but Rory and Jinna are both seasoned veterans and have lived a life. And Jinna is carrying a child of her own, under what could best be termed trying circumstances. I can’t think of anything less simple.”
“Yes. Fine. Whatever,” Jagati admitted, waving her hand. “But they’re still both younger than we are.”
“Yes, they are.” He almost smiled, and she almost punched him. “Which I suppose means we have less time to waste.”
“Exactly! Wait.” Jagati frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?” He raised his glass and took a drink before asking, “And what did you mean?”
She bared her teeth. “Sometimes I hate you.”
“I know.” This time he did smile, then leaned in so they were face to face, close enough to smell his soap.
She really liked his soap.
She cleared her throat. “So . . . about the queen being in my net,” she began, referring to another conversation they’d had, this one a few days ago, regarding their relationship.
Or, rather, their relationship post The Kiss. It was during this conversation that John had told Jagati the next move, should there be one, was hers to make.
“Yes?” he prompted.
She stared, huffed out a breath. “I think I might keep it.”
His right brow rose. “I don’t know what that means.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“It’s not easy for me,” he admitted, his own huff of breath displacing a curl that had fallen to her cheek. Then he reached up to brush it back, and Jagati was so shocked she didn’t even slap his hand away. “I want to know what you want,” he said softly.
“I thought I was being clear.”
He tipped his head, indicating this was not, in fact, the case.
“I want . . .” Another huff of air. “I want—”
“Excuse me.”
At the diffident greeting, John and Jagati both sat up straight as cadets in basic to see they had company, in the way of an older man whose coat was as weathered as his copper skin.
“I apologize if I’m interrupting,” the man said.
“Oh, you’re not interrupting,” Jagati piped up.
“Of course not,” John said.
“Nothing happening here,” she added.
“I see.” The man’s expression twitched with amusement. “In that case, might I ask if I have the pleasure of addressing Captain Pitte of the CAS Errant?”
“Only if you’re not planning on thrashing him,” Jagati said.
“I’m Captain Pitte,” John told the stranger. “How can I help you, Msr…?”
“Doctor, in fact,” the man introduced himself with a slight bow. “Doctor Alain Natsiq, and I’m in need of an airship. I was told you might have one to hire?”
John looked at Jagati. She sighed and nodded.
“That we do,” John said to the doctor. “How may the Errant serve?”
Chapter One
It wasn’t the first time Jagati had heard John ask that question, but it was the first time she’d heard it with mixed emotions.
Plus side, they could use the cash a new job would bring in.
Minus side, she was pretty sure she’d been about to kiss John again.
By all rights, she should have been relieved by the interruption.
She was relieved.
Mostly.
Smog it, she thought as the doctor waved to someone on the other side of the pub.
“Just letting my associates know I found you,” Natsiq explained as he dropped into the chair John offered.
“Associates?” she asked, turning with John to spy a tall, slender figure with coppery skin and ink-black hair weaving through the crowded tables.
They were followed, Jagati noted, by someone of much shorter stature, the only visible feature being a mop of brown hair lightly touched with silver.
“Well, two of them,” Dr. Natsiq explained. “Dr. Panesar is still at the airfield, inventorying our supplies. The other two came with me. My eldest, Kallik.” Natsiq indicated the taller of the approaching pair with visible pride. “They are also a doctor.”
“Two Dr. Natsiq’s?” Jagati focused on the elder physician. “Doesn’t that get confusing?”
“It would,” Alain agreed, “but Kallik uses their full name, Natsiq-Corvais.”
“I try to,” the young doctor in question said as they arrived at the table, a goblet of red wine in hand and a twinkle in their dark eyes, “but generally our patients give up and call us Dr. A and Dr. K.”
“They do not,” their father replied.
“They do when you’re not listening,” Kallik said with an infectious grin.
The elder doctor rolled his eyes. “And this is Pyotr Aaberg,” he continued as the last of the party broke through the crush, carrying two pint glasses.
Jagati, turning to the newcomer, felt a sense of shock.
Why, she couldn’t say as, aside from his stature, the man was about as innocuous as they came.
Then she glanced at John just in time to see him schooling his features, and realized that it wasn’t her shock she felt, but his.
Smogging empathic woo woo, she thought, and gritting her teeth, she reinforced the internal walls that Eitan—who, unlike Jagati, had a lifetime of knowing he was a sensitive—had helped her construct.
“You forgot your ale, Alain,” Pyotr said in a heavy Stolichnayan accent, pushing one of the two pints he carried across the table.
“Oh, thank you.” Alain accepted the drink. “Pyotr, Kallik, may I present Captain John Pitte and . . .”
Jagati filled in the expectant pause. “Jagati O’Bannion.”
“Jagati is the Errant’s first mate,” John explained.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Pyotr said, climbing into the chair next to Kallik.
“And are you a doctor as well?” John asked Pyotr.
“Not me, no,” Pyotr waved John’s question aside. “I am merely an administrator.”
“Pyotr is far more than that,” Alain said. “As the team admin, he handles all the tedious details, so we in the medical staff can focus on our work.”
“Interesting,” John said, then glanced at Jagati before asking, “And what work do you do, precisely?”
“Nothing illegal, I assure you,” Alain began.
“Just a little insane,” Kallik added.
That had both Jagati and John turning to Alain, who raised his hands as if in acceptance of the judgment. “Are either of you acquainted with the organization, Medics Beyond Borders?”
“Sure.” Jagati shrugged. “We’ve come across MBB camps a few times over the years.”
“The organization does an excellent job filling in the gaps left by the Keepers, with none of the same protections the Keepers enjoy while doing it,” John added.
“Like I said, a little insane.” Kallik raised their glass in a toast to their companions.
“Not so insane this time,” Pyotr said.
“We’re flying to the eastern border of Stolichnaya—in February,” Kallik pointed out.
“Keepers,” Jagati said, then shrugged as everyone looked at her. “Not a fan of cold weather.”
Alain sighed. “Unfortunately, neither was the captain of the airship we had originally chartered.”
“It wasn’t the cold she objected to,” Kallik said, their voice taking on an edge.
“Is that so?” John glanced at the younger doctor.
“Captain LeVeau has opinions on just who Medics Beyond Borders should be helping,” Alain explained. “In that she believes we shouldn’t be helping anyone outside colonial borders.”
“Talk about missing the brief,” Jagati muttered as, from the other side of the pub, the musicians transitioned to a louder, faster piece.
“No succor to the enemy?” John guessed, pitching his voice up to be heard over the clapping that accompanied the music.
“Never mind that there are as many MBB members in the Coalition as there are in the United Colonies,” Kallik pointed out.
“Which is why we came looking for you,” Pyotr added, glancing at John.
Alain nodded. “After LeVeau cancelled on our contract, we went to the airfield office, and a fellow named Alvaro mentioned the Errant had just returned to Nike and might suit our needs.”
“We might,” John said, his eyes darting to Pyotr and back to Alain. “But there are some matters to discuss, first.”
“We have the fee,” Alain said before naming a sum that Jagati judged as just on the right side of doable.
“Which is good to know,” John replied, “but money isn’t the only issue.”
“Please,” Kallik held up their hand, “if you’re going to turn us down, do it fast so we can start looking for another airship.”
“We’re not turning you down,” Jagati said, glancing at John.
“Not at all,” he agreed. “We merely like to go into a deal with a certain amount of transparency.”
“Meaning?” Pyotr asked.
“Meaning, the Errant is an older ’ship,” Jagati explained. “Like, liquid-aluminum battery old. No crystal power.”
“Oh, if that’s all . . .” Alain appeared ready to wave that off.
“Not entirely,” John said.
“We’ve also got sparse guest furnishings,” Jagati said.
“And a dodgy engine pod,” John added.
“Not to mention the twenty-year-old bact-system, so water rationing is a necessity,” Jagati continued.
“Basically, the Errant isn’t the fastest, or most comfortable, transport on the airfield,” John concluded.
“Forgive me,” Alain said, “but this still feels as you are turning us down—just more politely.”
“It’s more that we like to under promise and overdeliver,” John said.
“There’s a reason we carry freight more often than passengers,” Jagati added before picking up her drink. “It can get a little boring and a lot ripe.”
“You realize we work in aid camps, don’t you?” Kallik asked.
“Fair point,” John admitted, then met Jagati’s gaze.
She glanced at the doctors, and Pyotr, then back to John. She dipped her head, and he turned to the waiting clients.
“And it looks like we have an understanding.”
“Excellent,” Alain smiled. “Pyotr, you have the contract still?”
“Right here,” Pyotr patted his coat while Jagati rose from her chair to wave wildly at the dance floor.
“Figure we should get Eitan in on the conversation,” she explained at John’s questioning glance. “Eitan’s one of the crew,” she said to the others. “Our mechanic already called it a night, but you’ll meet him soon enough.”
“Smog it to Earth and back,” Pyotr swore, then looked up, sheepishly. “I seem to have dropped the contract somewhere.”
“Possibly at the bar?” John asked.
“Seems most likely,” Pyotr said, sliding off his chair.
“I’ll—” Kallik began.
“I’ll help you look for it,” John cut in, popping up from his seat. “We’ll be back soon,” he promised.
“If you’re sure,” Kallik said, though they sounded perfectly happy to remain and enjoy their wine.
“We will be fine,” Pyotr promised as first John, then he, turned to push through the surrounding tables.
“I hope the contract isn’t on the floor,” Alain said, eyeing the sticky floorboards.
“Did you say something about another crew member?” Kallik asked.
Jagati looked back at the dance floor and realized Eitan hadn’t noticed her earlier hail.
“Hold on a sec,” she said, jumping from the chair and heading toward the rhythmic crowd.
Halfway to her goal, she huffed out a breath and decided to try something different.
Standing still, she focused all her attention on Eitan’s enthusiastically spinning figure and was rewarded by the sudden flick of his head in her direction.
As soon as their eyes met, she jerked her chin, which afforded her a quick nod from Eitan who immediately broke away from the dancers to join her.
“Possible job,” she explained, leading him back to the table.
“One you seem less than pleased by,” he said, reminding her he could sense more than her summons.
“The job is fine,” she replied. “But there’s something off about Pitte.”
“You know, he has a first name,” Eitan murmured, but as they had reached their table, she didn’t have time to hit him.
“Eitan Fehr,” she flicked a hand at her crewmate as the two docs rose from their chairs, “meet Dr. Natsiq and Dr. Natsiq-Corvais.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Alain said before relaxing back into his chair.
“Please, call me Kallik,” the younger Natsiq inserted smoothly, reaching out their hand to grasp Eitan’s.
Sweet merciful keeper’s hive, she thought, as the smile Eitan gave Kallik nearly made Jagati’s head swim.
“Both doctors, you say?” Eitan asked as he, Kallik, and Jagati took their seats. “Are either of you acquainted with Tiago Hama? He is a friend, about to graduate from Yousafzai Medical.”
“We haven’t met, but then, we both graduated from Oronhyatekha, in Moosehead,” Alain explained.
While the Natsiqs and Eitan made nice, Jagati thought about the way John had been so eager to help Pyotr find the missing contract.
Something’s up, there, she thought, tapping her glass.
