C is for Carmel-Eyes

This is the third installment in my episodic Space Opera series featuring Zento the Mercenary.  You can read the first two here and here respectively.


         She gave a laugh, faint but sweet.  “What kind of a nickname is that?”
         “The best kind, for it puts on a pedestal your best feature,” said Zento.  He wore a broad grin.  A fresh burn on his right cheek crinkled.
         The woman faded back into a rigid stance.  “That last mission too tough for you?” she inquired, pointing at Zento’s cheek and raising one eyebrow.
         Zento laughed.  “You told me that cybervolcano was dormant.  I couldn’t believe it when burning saline starting streaming through the jungle of Goran 3.”
         “I can see it in my mind’s eye, the mighty Zento running in panic while a village of Goraneans simply moved to their shelter in the trees.  You should know that cybervolcanos don’t spew real lava.  They’re just enriching the soil with salt water.”
         “I know,” Zento said.  The rest of his face looked burnt now.  “I’m used to the super-volcanos on Verion.  Anyway, I got the intel.  Mission accomplished.”
         The woman nodded.  “That you did, IC108.”
         Zento reared, despite still holding a smile.  “Calling me by my independent contractor number?  Now that’s some kind of nickname.”
         “Just remember, 108,” the woman began, tilting her head to the side a little, “your father may have been a big-shot, but you’re only a mercenary here.”
         “Hurry up and give me my new assignments, Carmel-Eyes,” Zento said sticking out his tongue.  “I may be a freelance, but I’m the best your company has got.”