Last Stand (Stag Privateers Book 1)

“Qualified to operate any system on this garbage scow that requires half a brain. Put me on a hacking terminal, I told him. Put me in charge of shields, I told him. Sensors, piloting, even weapons.”
Lana flinched as a deafening clang shivered the air around her, echoing from within the mysterious room. “But nooo, he decides to put me on engines. Like I'm some sort of filthy mongrel wrench banger! But do I complain? Of course not! I keep these babies purring like a litter of kittens for more than seven years, and does he even notice?”
Another clang, this one sounding particularly vindictive. “Screw that walking genetic defect! And screw Barix! I let him talk first in the interview and he snatches the plum assignment right out from under me. I hope they both get degenerative mitochondritis!”
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Lana peeked around the doorway.
The room inside was larger than she'd expected, filled with massive tanks with barely enough space to walk between them, with banks of machinery lining the walls and tubes and wiring going everywhere.
Near one of the tanks, working on some sort of valve, was a woman who had to be at least a head shorter than her. Whip-thin, with sleek blond hair in a pixie cut, sharp features that bore a striking beauty, large ice blue eyes, and a delicate nose. Although she didn't bear much resemblance to Barix, aside from them both being small and slender and highly attractive, she looked the same age, and Lana deduced that this was the twin sister Dax had mentioned.
At the moment the woman's sculpted beauty was marred by a snarl of fury as she hammered the valve with a wrench that seemed too large for her delicate hands. But in spite of her ferocious efforts, the machinery wasn't budging.
She finally hurled the wrench away with a screech. “I don't even have the build for this! I should be on guns instead of that walking automaton . . . at least he'd be able to unstick a stupid valve.”
The woman began to pace, small feet stomping the floor in fury. “It's because he doesn't want to so much as look at me. Which is hilarious, when at first he couldn't take his mongrel eyes off me! He knew what I was! He knew what to expect when he decided to accept my invitation to piston his filthy rod inside my drive shaft! But did knowing stop him? Void no! He couldn't integrate with my socket fast enough! And now he acts lik-”
The woman finally noticed Lana standing in the doorway. She froze, choking off mid-rant, and a look of mortification momentarily flashed across her elfin features.
In a remarkably short time, she managed to compose herself, adopting an amused expression that made her far more closely resemble her brother. Although with less contempt and slightly more warmth. “Something I can help you with, sweetie?” she asked, her previous strident voice replaced by a smooth, almost melodious tone.
Lana shook her head, half afraid that in spite of the woman's abrupt change of mood she might still end up with a wrench thrown at her head. “I was just, um, exploring.”
“Well as you can guess, you've found the engine room.” The woman strode forward, offering a delicate hand that was surprisingly clean and soft, without even a hint of calluses. “I'm Belix Ishiv, in charge of engines and overseeing combat repairs. You must be the slave we freed from our target yesterday. Do you have a name yet?”
She shook Belix's hand hesitantly, the way Aiden had shown her. “The Captain suggested Lana, and I like it.”
The elfin woman grimaced slightly at the mention of the captain, then quickly smoothed her sculpted features again. “Lana's a pretty name,” she agreed, looking her over appraisingly. “A pretty name for a pretty girl. No wonder my brother was so intrigued.”
“Um, thank you?”
The Ishivi sighed, looking almost forlorn. “Void, I'll admit I was excited to hear about a new person coming aboard, too. I've been cooped up on this flying scrap heap for years, with no one for company but robots and relatives and reclaimed waste in human form. At the risk of sounding pathetic and desperate, I could really use someone to talk to. Basic human interaction that isn't steeped with hostility and bitterness. I don't get leave to visit stations or planetside nearly often enough for socializing.”
Lana couldn't help but feel sorry for the elfin woman. But at the same time, she was acutely aware of Dax's warning for her to be careful around the Ishivi. Then again, being careful around someone who ranted to herself and threw around heavy wrenches and threatened to liquify her own brother in his sleep just seemed like common sense.
Belix abruptly turned away, striding quickly back over to the valve she'd been working on. “While you're here, sweetie, could you give me a hand with this? I think working together we can get it unstuck, and then I won't have to go get Fix and make it do it.”
Lana blinked. “Fix?” Were there even more people on this ship she hadn't met yet? It didn't seem all that big.
The elfin woman waved airily. “Oh, it's just a combat android that does the heavy lifting. You'll see it at some point, but it won't be much of an introduction . . . you could have more engaging conversations with the gunner.”
Actually, she'd already had a very engaging conversation with Dax. But she had a feeling Belix meant that as an insult.
For a moment Lana was tempted to ask the Ishivi about the young man, but decided against it. Belix didn't seem like the most reliable person to go to for finding out about people, considering the trouble she seemed to have saying anything nice about anyone on the ship.
Besides, since Dax had warned her about the Ishivi it was probably wise to be cautious.
The elfin woman's previous foul mood appeared to have vanished, and she chattered