Kat shook her head and grinned. Think they’d learn. True, she hadn’t played that man before, but the kids had warned him–gamble with Kat, lose your shirt.
She jiggled her pocket as she walked. Not as satisfying as those old coins Sensei’d shown her, but credit chips were all right. Especially since they were one more step towards her own ship, bought with her own money, and owing nothing to Momma and Daddy. She’d get there. Every credit she made or was given, went into her account. Even Sensei didn’t know how much she had already. And by the time she had enough, she’d have her license–owing almost entirely to Momma’s teaching, of course, but that couldn’t be helped. No one else was going to teach her for free. Besides, lots of people learned their trade from their parents.
A shadow in her peripheral vision made her grin. Damn fool sorry he played her? He’d be sorrier still if he tried to take his money back. Kat twisted her hair into a knot and clipped it. He wanted a fight, she’d give him one, but damned if she’d leave a handle hanging. She tucked in her blouse, too. Momma always said her clothes would give her trouble, but Kat had found if she just didn’t let herself get ambushed, she could handle any fights that came up, and look pretty when not fighting. It was something Momma still had trouble with.
The shadow flitted again, and Kat frowned. The shadow had brown hair. Her erstwhile opponent had been a redhead. Did he enlist help? To deal with a teenaged girl? Not likely. This might be something else. She fingered her comm. David was too far to come. She could feel him, like always, but when he was farther than a few kilometers, he was fuzzy. Like now.
Sensei was probably close. And unlike Momma, he wouldn’t lecture her for getting herself in trouble. But he seldom carried his comm, prefering not to be interrupted in whatever it was he did on leave. She was on her own. Unless he’d chosen to follow her today.
Oh well. If it came down to it, she could call any of the crew without the comm. Momma’d lecture about the method, but she’d pounded it into Kat, too–count on your mates. You need them, you call. And if they call, you go.
To be continued. Maybe…