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When they returned to the Sentinel, it was all Rayan could do to let Sheri out of his sight. The trip from Hodur had been as exhausting as it had been entertaining, and still he wanted nothing more than to slip away to his quarters and bury himself in her with more than just his fingers. Unfortunately, that would have to come after his report to Mira. She’d made it plain that he needed to head straight to the bridge and fill her in on the events.
He dragged a hand down over his face, as though he could clear some invisible sign of Sheri’s kisses, then back up and over his shaved head. Stepping through the hatch, he found Mira and Zion waiting for him. Hicks sat in the pilot’s chair, ostensibly paying attention to her console, but it was impossible to miss how she leaned back to catch anything that might be said.
Rayan nodded to the captain and first officer, then stared at the back of the pilot’s head. “What, no card?”
“I assumed you’d want to draw your own, after you accused me of being a charlatan.” She set the deck on top the console next to her. “I shuffled it just for you.”
“As though I’d trust you,” he teased. He attempted a clumsy bridge shuffle, and Hicks almost concealed her snort of amusement. After another attempt he set the deck down and flipped over the top card. A masked figure in black robes and an old-fashioned wig stared back at him. In one hand the person carried a sword, in the other a bright red apple.
“The Judge,” said Hicks, though Rayan hadn’t seen her glance over at the card. “Serious decisions, a test of ideals, or, you know. An actual trial.”
“If we’re done with the floor show?” Zion laughed and shook his head. “I’ve got important things I’d rather be avoiding.”
Rayan turned to face them. With the captain’s and first officer’s chairs on a terrace above the helm and security stations, he stood below Mira and Sanderson. The angle enhanced the imperial nature of her glare, and she focused on Zion for a long second. “Finished?”
He smiled. “I could come up with more if you want. It’s not like there’s not plenty to discuss.”
“Not for you. Hicks, initiate the sequence to transit to the Kronus system.” Mira waited for the pilot to acknowledge before lasering her stare into Rayan once more. “Well?”
“Her contact sold her out to the Spider Queen, or Ariadne got there first. Either way, the same result. We had a couple of fights. Ariadne had guards placed on the launch, but we got past them.” Rayan shrugged. “She’s fucking clever, but getting into the Night Market is apparently out of her reach.”
Zion snorted. “I’m sure.”
“You got something you want to say to me, Sanderson? Or maybe you’re interested in going a couple rounds in the ring?”
“She’s playing you for stupid. She’s fucking IntCom.”
Fury flared in Rayan’s chest, and he took a step up onto the dais toward Zion before his brain resumed control. “You’d better have damn good evidence.” TJF’s Intelligence Command was responsible for too many sins in their lives, starting with the infiltration of the union efforts of the miners on his homeworld. Peddling cheap Spectrivax until half the workers had been addicted, himself included. Sheri was a dockrat, nothing more.
“Ariadne called while you were planetside.” Zion sat back with his fingers steepled in front of him. “She told us all about Sheri’s real history.”
“The Spider Queen.” He spoke slowly because apparently everyone got real dumb while he was away. “Called our ship. And the words of this accomplished liar sowed discord regarding the person who’d robbed her.” Rayan shook his head. “Maybe we should go into the ring, just so I can knock some of the shit out of your ears. I said you’d better have good evidence.”
“Enough, both of you.” Mira shifted to rest her elbow on the arm of her chair. “I’m not going to say Ariadne’s story wasn’t compelling, but you’re right. She’s got motive.”
Rayan exhaled. “Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean Sheri’s not guilty,” Mira snapped. “There’s a lot of her story that doesn’t make sense. And I hate mysteries.”
So did Rayan, and he hated that even the suggestion from Zion had him second-guessing every one of his interactions with Sheri. “Darcy likes her. He’s never wrong about people. Even Sanderson.”
Zion flipped him off with a smirk. “No offense, mate, but Darcy’s a fuckin’ lizard.”
“He’s been on the crew longer than you, and I trust him more.”
“I said enough!” Mira slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair, the sound overly loud in the bridge. “You two can bicker on your own time, not on mine. Barr, she’s got two strikes already. I don’t care if she’s IntCom or not, if she screws us over again, I’ll send her and the ’Vax back to Ariadne just to avoid having to deal with her.”
He swallowed. “And if I think you’re making a mistake?”
“Then you need to remember your own words. This ship isn’t a democracy.” Mira shook her head gently, and for a split second her features softened into something like sympathy. “She has one more chance. We either need to ditch the ’Vax or get some leverage we can use to hold off Ariadne. As it stands, I don’t like being on the Spider Queen’s bad side.”
Rayan nodded. “I’ll make sure she knows she’s in a deteriorating orbit.”
“The smart thing,” Zion said, “would be to ditch her once we get to the Kronus system. We keep the ’Vax, and we don’t have to care about if she’s a spy or not.”
Rayan scoffed. “The day I come to you for a smart choice would be a dark damn day.”
Sanderson’s broad smile matched his opened arms. “I love you too.”
Rayan turned back to the captain, rolling his eyes. “What if we ditch Sanderson too? It would mean more room for everyone since his ego wouldn’t be cluttering up the ship.”
“Tempting, but he’s good scenery.” Mira shrugged, her seriousness evaporating as she moved back to being Rayan’s friend rather than his captain.
“Plus, he actually listens to the cards when they warn him about something. Unlike someone I could name.” Hicks’s smile tinged her voice from the front of the bridge. “Just saying.”
Rayan counted to ten before talking. Now that the conversation had turned, he hated to bring it back up. “I appreciate the warning about her. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Mira nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
It was as close to a dismissal as he’d likely get. She’d abandoned her old military habits once they’d both left the mercenary unit that had been their home before the Sentinel. And the ship was home, more than the mines on Adiona had ever been. If it protected his family, he’d cut Sheri loose without a second thought. Even if it left him bleeding to death as a result.
#
DARCY WAS HEAVY FOR a lizard, his weight curled around Sheri’s shoulders like a warm, scaly scarf. The creature had changed a lot of her misconceptions about goanna, not least of which was how soft their skin could be. The scales didn’t overlap, but nested next to each other. The resulting pebbled texture felt more like skin than the sandpaper she expected.
She uncurled Darcy and set him gingerly on her bunk before pulling off her coveralls. Her sweat-soaked clothing joined them in the pile on the floor, and she let out a ragged sigh. The downside of microgravity, one the holovids too often forgot, was that sweat relied on gravity to drip down your skin. In micro, it just pooled up where you sweat it out. Absorbent clothes helped, but typically it was the height of unsexiness.
Well, had been. Barr had gone a long way toward changing her mind.
A ripple of pleasure shimmered through her, heightened by the anticipation of being able to return his all-too-attentive affections. Shit. Did the captain have any rules about fraternization? Was that even a thing she needed to be worried about? She glanced at Darcy, who was happily burrowing into her discarded clothing. “You got any advice?”
His red and black head poked up, eyes blinking in alternating pairs as he watched her. When she didn’t say anything more, he offered a confused chirrup as though seeking clarification.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re not going to run off and tell the crew about what happened on the launch, are you?”
The goanna gave up trying to understand her and dug back into the pile of clothing.
Sheri chuckled quietly and walked to the water-reclamation unit. It wasn’t as good as a long, hot soak planetside, but even the basic niceties went a long way. She wet a washcloth and wiped herself down, then threw on a clean outfit. Fortunately, she and Hicks were about the same size, and the pilot was willing to provide some of her older clothes. Sheri didn’t recognize the band name on the front—Jovial Nova—but that hardly surprised her. With three systems’ worth of constantly shifting music genres, it was tricky to keep track of artists a person liked, let alone all the bands in every style.
After hanging her old outfit to dry, much to Darcy’s dismay, she wondered if it was too early to go looking for Barr. If she were him, she’d be reporting in their failure to make progress on Hodur. The question was how much he decided to share, and how much he’d figured out on his own. The captain wouldn’t be happy with the results, and the idea that she might punish Barr for it made anger flash white hot and incandescent even as the idea made little sense. Mira Barnes ruled her ship with a certain cold efficiency, yes, but at no time had Sheri seen any evidence that the woman was cruel. Or unfair.
The reaction made her pause. She’d promised herself that the launch was a one-time thing, and here she was, already making excuses to see Rayan again. To have him above and inside her. That would be a lot harder to sell as a simple seduction for IntCom. Harder for her to keep her feelings out of. She needed to get out before she got dragged in too deep.
It pained her to think, but the next place they visited she needed to break away from her keeper—Barr or anyone else. Ideally it would be a world with an IntCom safe house, so she could lie low. If it wasn’t, her omnidevice had an entire separate persona waiting on board, which was more than enough to book anonymous passage.
Sheri flopped backwards onto her bunk. Darcy crawled to press against her side, leaching heat from her skin. She reached down to stroke the goanna’s eye ridges and he trilled quietly, legs stiff as he pressed into the touch. With her other hand, she opened up the IntCom software suite on her omni, ready to send an update and see if they had instructions for a way forward.
The counter on her secure message app indicated one unread message.
She sat up and braced against the back wall of the bunk, counting to ten before opening the message. Hopefully it would be some sort of explanation as to why Collin’s relationship with Ariadne was somehow more important than her life.
Operative Tyler. While Command expects their operatives to show initiative in the field, they are also expected to show common sense commensurate with the responsibility given them. So far you have robbed a high-value target, potentially damaging your cover beyond repair; abandoned your assigned post; potentially revealed the cover of a fellow operative; assisted known criminals in escaping apprehension; and fought your way free of a legitimate impound. Command is displeased with the lack of progress. Your new mission parameters are to bring in the crew and any cargo they have for processing at the primary facility on Farhope. Your compliance is expected on receiving this message, and failure to act as ordered will lead to a warrant being issued for your arrest.
Sheri closed her eyes, fingers able to close the omni down by rote muscle memory. Even with the screen dark, it felt like she could still see the words, seared on her eyelids. “Bring in for processing.”
The language was obscure, but there was no question of the intent. They’d be arrested, separated, and IntCom would use its rather substantial arsenal to wring every drop of information from them.
The real question was why? Yes, the Sentinel was well traveled, but it mostly skirted the edge of legality with its cargos. She could easily name a half-dozen crews committing more heinous acts, carrying cargos so illegal that any civilized moon would lock them away permanently. So why was IntCom suddenly so interested in this ship? This crew?
Because I’m already here.
It was the only reason that made sense. Those other ships were worse, sure, but they were also out of reach at the moment. She could deliver the Sentinel and its crew, who could be a stepping-stone to those other ships. Her throat hurt at the image of Barr locked up and confined. He was a wild beast; caging him would kill him. Her heart and mind both rebelled at the idea.
Her first thought was to get him off the ship somehow, before turning it over to Intelligence Command. Then she considered what they’d do to Layth. To Hicks, who she’d barely met. To Baker and April. The guilt at her own selfishness brought sour bile to the back of her mouth. They weren’t any more innocent than Barr was, in the eyes of IntCom. And none of them were more criminal than she was.
The answer was plain; she needed to warn them all away from Farhope. In a perfect world she could do it without blowing her cover, but if she couldn’t, it was a small price to pay. She’d already cost them Nobu Station. Taking the TriSystem capital out of their rotation meant they’d have that much more difficulty delivering cargoes and making ends meet. Losing her own position seemed like a small price to pay.
She grabbed a cardigan and wrapped it around her shoulders before scooping Darcy into her arms. Sheri rubbed her fingers along the broad scales of his cheeks. “Okay, you. Let’s go see how easy it is to convince your partner.”
Fortunately, she could be very persuasive.