She was wearing a form-fitting T-shirt, dark green with a unicorn on it. Her pants were black denim with button-flap pockets on the thighs, and her boots were ankle-high and soft-soled. She was indeed more appropriately dressed for a work crew than for receiving visitors.
“Your appearance does not concern me,” Tambu said. “Nor do I find it unpleasant. I do, however, have several questions for you.”
“First, I have a question for you,” the girl countered. “What do you intend to do with me and my crew?”
“What is usually done with pirates caught in the very act of committing their crimes?” Tambu asked blandly.
“Usually they are turned over to the authorities on the nearest inhabited planet where they are hanged or shot, with or without trial. Occasionally, they are put to death by the ship which captures them.” Ramona’s eyes met Tambu’s squarely. “I might also add that if your plans for us follow those expected patterns, I see no reason why we should answer your questions or cooperate with you in any way.”
“And if our plans were to let you go?”
The girl’s posture straightened as her air of studied indifference fell away.
“You’d do that? You’d let us take our ship and go?”
“In exchange for information, we’ll let you and the crew go. But not the ship. You’ll be dropped planetside with no reference to the authorities as to the nature of your business.”
“How do I know you aren’t lying?” Ramona scowled.
“What’s to keep you from getting the information you want, then turning us in anyway?”
“You have no guarantees. You’ll just have to trust me. I might point out, however, that if I were lying, I could afford to be a lot more generous with my promises. I could promise you your crew and your ship. Instead, I’m being honest. The deal is for your lives-not your ship.”