Blowback by Lyn Gala

chained to the wall.
    “No, that’s not it. You’re on restriction to quarters until
I feel like letting you out. If you want to pull a stunt this stupid again,
let’s make sure you know what it feels like to live in a six by six box for a
while.” Ramsay turned and walked toward the still open hatch. Da’shay walked
over and picked up Tom’s handheld and came over with it held out like an
offering. Tom stared at her, half expecting her to gut him on the spot. Instead
she waited with her hand outstretched. Tom took his handheld and shivered from
the intensity of her gaze.
    “Get the lead out, Tom,” Ramsay called and Tom headed for
the ramp, trying hard not to fall down because his knees still felt like
rubber, Da’shay right behind him.

Chapter Eight
     
    Tom paced the length of his room and back again. It took
exactly three steps. He’d travelled those same three steps so many times that
he was pretty sure the decking was going to start showing wear, but there was
little else to do in the room.
    His handheld was broken, cracked by the pulse blast. If he
hadn’t believed Ramsay before, he did now. He couldn’t survive in a cage like
this, not for the years he would be locked up if he was convicted of treason.
God he was stupid. That wasn’t the worst part. When Ramsay looked at him, there
was a wariness in the man’s eyes that made it pretty damn clear that Tom’s time
on the Kratos was running out. Oh Ramsay would keep him around to
investigate the little man Tom had met, but he figured two seconds after that,
he was going to find himself either out of work or in a cell like this one for
the rest of his life.
    Lying down on the bunk, he stared at the low ceiling. His
stomach growled and he scratched idly. Three days and no one had brought food.
Tom could think of all sorts of reasons why that might be, but not many of them
made sense.
    If Tom was hiding information, making a prisoner worry about
basic necessities was a standard torture technique. Illegal, but effective. If
the Kratos was in trouble, crew might be too busy to bother, but the
panel beside Tom’s locked door showed green lights.
    So that meant there was some game being played. He’d thought
the Kratos was different. He and Ramsay were colony kids—raised around
enough dirt and poverty to appreciate what they had. The captain had a hard
edge that made other smugglers believe he was one of them. Becca was from the
colonies too, and so was the engineer before her. They all had a habit of
speaking the truth, even Becca who did it with a smile so wide you didn’t
figure out until days later that she’d insulted you.
    If pushed, Tom would guess it was Da’shay trying to starve
him out of the ship if she could. Hell, he wouldn’t even blame her. If she put
a gun to the back of his head and pulled the trigger, he’d call that
self-defense and tell her she was in the right.
    The door beeped, and Tom tossed his handheld onto the small
table and stood up as it slid open. Even though the ship put the same air into
every inch of the Kratos , Tom could swear the air from the hall just
smelled fresher. Ramsay stood outside Tom’s quarters looking uncomfortable.
“Thought we needed to talk about the mission.”
    “Come on in,” Tom said with more than a touch of sarcasm.
Tom didn’t have much else to say. He wasn’t even sure what the mission was
since he’d been locked in his room during the briefing.
    “You review the files?” Ramsay looked down at the table
where Tom’s handheld sat. Eli stood at his six and Tom wondered if the man knew
exactly what Tom’d done to get put on lock down. If he did, he was good at
hiding his disgust.
    “It’s broke,” Tom said with a shrug. “Get me a new one and
I’ll review what I need to know, sir.”
    Ramsay frowned. “Should’ve asked for a new one before. We’re
landing in three hours.”
    Tom didn’t answer. He’d done exactly what Ramsay had told
him to and he still managed to fuck