Work Text:
Cind flicked the switches on the dash of her Nostromo class spaceship, booting it up for her latest run through the stars. She checked the gauges, pleased to see the ground crew had filled her fuel to the top. Cind knew this ship like she knew the stars. Every dent, scratch, or hidey-hole in its nanosteel frame is one she’d put there. Each item of cargo had been personally selected by her. And she knew every sight, sound and smell.
And she also knew that there was another person on this ship - one that she had not invited aboard.
She looked behind her at the dull metal of her cabinets that lined the wall, the alcove where her pull-out cot was stored, the pressurised sliding doors to her cargo area, currently sealed shut. The usual sense of rightness that would settle over her at the sight of her beloved ship was nowhere to be found.
Cind stood abruptly, and strode the three steps to the air vent. The second she reached it she tore off the casing, righteous fury building within her.
But the second she got a look at her stowaway, some of that anger shifted into confusion. It wasn’t the scummy thieves she was used to, trying to hide away until after takeoff so they could attempt to kill her and steal her ship.
No, this was a young woman in a heavily embroidered and expensive-looking dress, her face partially covered by long, flowing, red hair. After an initial burst of fear at her discovery, her expression had settled into one of fierce determination. She was also covered in engine grease, but in no way disguised the fact that this woman was in possession of the kind of genes that came from centuries of good breeding, and she was, without a doubt, of the Quality. She had absolutely no business being on a smuggler’s ship on the outer reaches of the planet.
“What. The fuck. Do you think you are doing?” Cind asked through gritted teeth.
The woman blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “I need a ride,” she replied, her accent clipped.
“And you thought you’d get one by hiding in my air vent?”
“I couldn’t take the chance you’d say no.”
“Well, I’m saying no right now. Get the fuck off my ship.”
The woman contorted herself, and Cind was vaguely afraid that she was having some kind of fit. But, no, she was just squeezing herself out of the air vent. She unfolded herself as she stood up, and Cind was surprised to find her to be at least a head taller than Cind’s own average height.
“I don’t think I will.”
“Excuse me?”
“No matter what you do with me - throw me off your ship, kill me - you won’t be able to wipe all traces of my presence. And they’ll want someone to blame when they find me missing. You will make a wonderfully convenient target.” The woman narrowed her eyes to impress her point.
“And who are you that deserves such special treatment?”
“Princess Margaret of House Gentark.”
A charged silence rose in the narrow cockpit, and Cind realised just how close she was standing to the woman. So close that she could see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes, so characteristic of one of the two royal families that warred over this useless and forgotten corner of the galaxy.
Suddenly feeling like she was on her back foot, Cind stumbled backwards until she felt the cold press of the cabinet doors behind her. She had no doubt that the woman - Margaret - was right. The royal investigators had all kinds of technology that could detect little more than the traces a person left behind. A skin cell would be enough to convict her in both the public and legal courts, particularly given her unconventional background.
The only other way would be to torch the ship and start again. It had taken Cind twenty years - since she’d first started flying (illegally) at ten years old, to get this far. She sure as shit did not want to start over.
“What do you want?” she asked wearily.
“I need to go to the Sephora system.”
“And you can’t do this the normal way because…?”
“Because people would try to stop me.”
“Why do you want to go to that shithole? You want to become a nun?” The Sephora system was where most of the extremist religious orders had congregated once they’d become persona non grata amongst most of the population. Too many wars had been fought in their name, too much intolerance had fostered, so the councils of the various planets had decided to send them to the farthest reaches of their territory and largely forgotten about them.
“There is someone there that has something I need. Something that might stop the war between my family and the Lannovers.”
“And how much would you pay me for this long, difficult and dangerous journey?” Cind raised her brow challengingly, expecting the woman to receive.
“I’ll pay twice as much as whatever it is you are getting to smuggle the illegal cargo hidden on this ship beneath the legitimate stuff.”
Cind felt her eyes go wide in surprise.
“We did our research,” Margaret replied smugly.
“We?”
“My fiance and I. We planned this together.”
“You’re engaged?” Cind wasn’t sure why that thought made her a little itchy.
“Sort of. But I’m hoping that if I find what I seek in Sephora that I won’t be for much longer. I won’t be forced into a marriage in a last-ditch attempt at peace.”
“It was arranged for you?” An unfamiliar spurt of sympathy wrestled its way into Cind’s heart.
She shrugged. “She’s nice enough, at least. Just...not for me.”
“Because she’s a woman?”
Margaret shook her head. “She’s just not the one for me,” she murmured softly. Cind felt oddly mesmerised by her lips as she uttered the words, her gaze narrowing to that single focus.
“What happens if I refuse you?” she asked suddenly, trying to clear her mind. Not that she needed to hear the answer. She already knew what decision she was going to make. She just didn’t know why.
Steel flashed in Margaret’s eyes, harder and colder than the hull of the ship. “That would not be in your best interest.”
“Because?”
“Because I would report you for smuggling, and kidnapping.”
“That’s not playing fair.”
She shrugged, uncaring, and Cind reluctantly found she liked the woman. “The lives of thousands of my people hang in the balance. I would sacrifice yours to save the others.”
In that moment, Cind had no doubt she would. She admired her all the more for that.
“All right,” she said.
“All right, you’ll take me?”
Cind gave a sharp nod, before turning to her captain’s chair. She paused, looking over her shoulder. “Strap in, Princess. It’s going to be a hell of a ride.”