“There’s no room for extra troublemakers on my ship. You better stop your little game of divide-and-conquer, Mr. Maverick, or I’ll flush you out the next airlock faster than you can say ‘oops.’ Do we understand each other?”
“Oh, I understand you perfectly, Captain,” Maverick purred, completely unruffled, “Probably better than you realize.”
Rupert J. Maverick, at your service.
Looks like that ship I blackmailed my way onto still has a few problems to sort out.
Like the captain and XO still not seeing eye to eye …a fire I might want to fan some more.
Like those mutineers collecting dust in the brig, wasting precious air and potential.
Like those inexplicable tech failures playing havoc on the Gateshot’s computer and installations, promising the most catastrophic kind of fun.
Makes you wonder, though.
Could there be another player on board?
Some filthy rat, maybe?
And is making this whole situation so much worse not precisely what it needs?
So tell me, Gorgeous, Witch Way to Trust?
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