She reaches out, whip-fast, and punches him in the mouth before he can finish the statement. “Mean pirate? Yes I am. Don’t you forget it.”
Bethiah just chuckles, readying her blaster. “Oh, I like her. Come on, let’s find Zebah before reinforcements arrive.” She points the weapon at the male’s head. “Are there more of you? Waiting?”
“No.”
“Helen?” Bethiah tilts her head at the qura’aki. “Make sure he’s telling the truth.”
Helen moves to the captive, reaching out for his nose. Before she can do anything more, the male cries out. “There isn’t anyone else! I swear! Please!”
Bethiah just grunts. “If you’re lying, she’s going to twist your balls off.”
The captive hunches over as if protecting his sac, and Helen boops his nose instead.
“You go find Zebah,” I tell Bethiah, gesturing at the dead men. “Helen and I are going to look for anything useful here and grab their weapons. Shout if you need help.”
The bounty hunter nods and races off, checking the other doors in the room as I turn to the sprawled bodies. “You watch our captive, love. I’ll handle this.” I want her to take it easy, especially if she’s wounded. I kneel next to the first male and strip him of his credit pouch, his blaster, and anything in his pockets. Sometimes those sorts of things can hint at where a merc has been—carcinogels from a particular station cantina, for example, or credits that are tracked back to a specific bank. I’m not finding much other than their weapons, though, and I confiscate those and try not to feel frustration. This is just a temporary setback.
“Mmmmph!!”
I get to my feet, turning, and Bethiah leads a slightly battered and still gagged Zebah toward us. Zebah’s wrists are cuffed behind her back and she’s got a bruise on her jaw, but her eyes are flashing anger at the mesakkah female at her side, her tail flicking furiously.
I sigh. “Bethiah…”
“Oh come on, isn’t she much better like this? I certainly think so.” She reaches between Zebah’s horns and gives her a pat on the head. “Nice and quiet, nice and quiet.”
“That’s not nice,” Helen says in an unhappy tone. “They hurt her, too. Are you okay, Zebah?”
“Fine, fine,” Bethiah mutters and unties the gag over Zebah’s mouth.
Zebah immediately sputters, taking a step away from Bethiah. “I’m going to kick this crazy female’s ass,” she spits in Bethiah’s direction. “I’d worked the gag free and she put it back on me!”
Bethiah just shrugs innocently.
“No one is kicking anyone’s ass,” Helen says, then pats the captive male on the shoulder. “Unless it’s this guy. He doesn’t count. But you and Zebah, we’re a team. And we still have humans to save.”
The two mesakkah females look at each other with undisguised dislike. “Fine. Whatever.” Zebah sighs, twisting her arms. “Just free me, all right?”
Zebah’s wrists are freed and I hand her one of the blasters I’ve collected. “What do you want to do with our friend here?” I gesture at our captive. Something tells me he doesn’t know much, and I’m not a fan of taking him with us. Should we kill him?”
“He’s a bad guy, right?” Helen asks, cracking her knuckles again. “I can kill him, make it quick.”
“I’m just a hired thug,” the male sobs, terrified. “Let me go. I won’t say anything about what happened here.”
Bethiah rolls her eyes at his crying. “Let’s just toss him into the room where they left Zebah. They didn’t kill her. I suppose we can return the favor.”
“Yes!” the male cries. “Excellent idea!”
I nod. “Do it.” I glance over at Helen, to see if she looks like she’s in pain. “I just want to get back to the ship and chart our next move.”
As Bethiah leads the captive male away, Zebah comes up to me and claps a hand on my shoulder. She leans in close. “Lucky for you, I know exactly where our friend the slaver and his human cargo are headed.”
Stunned, I stare at her in surprise. “What? You do?”
Zebah gives me a self-satisfied look and nods over at Helen. “Yup. My business is information, right? I’d be a trash-level bounty hunter if I didn’t have ways to get it on the sly.”
Helen’s eyes widen. “You seduced someone into giving you the information?”
“What? No! Ew.” Zebah makes a face. “Those bottom feeders? Never. I put a tracker on the slaver’s belt. I made sure to flail a lot and clutch at him when they tied me up. All I have to do is access the tracker and it’ll give me their current coordinates.” She grins at us. “And here you thought Zebah was just a pretty face. I’m the full package, my loves.”
I laugh with delight, some of the stress of the evening fading. “Just for that, we might not let Bethiah kill you after all.”