The drop site, Shuttle Pad 483E, wasn't much more to look at than the trail shelters when it finally came into sight the next afternoon. A larger facility of four long, squat buildings placed in a rectangle to shield the landing pad, SP 483E at least had redundant communications arrays on its roofs. A line to civilization.
The shopping-coffee-clean sheets-cocktails-at-six part of Sofia's heart lifted in anticipation. She could call the resort. Talk to a supervisor. Maybe they would come and get her by some means faster than four-footed transport.
She wanted that—didn't she? To be reunited with her luggage and hot showers? With regular meals and comfortable transport?
Sofia was turning this over in her mind so hard—with sort of a clack-thunk, clack-thunk rhythm—that she'd missed the moment all the chionisaurs had bunched together and stopped walking. Everyone was in the process of clambering down.
A rumble under her seat startled her, and Moon turned her huge head with a look that clearly said, Well? Get on with it.
"Easy for you, you know." Sofia grunted as she swung her left leg over to join her right. "You don't have to climb around on knobs wearing slippery mittens."
The extra glove liners and extra socks Lanel had insisted she wear made both her hands and feet clumsy. Clumsier. She made it down with only a minor slip or two—for some definitions of minor. Still, she landed on her feet and not on her butt, so she'd call it a win. The majority of her body still ached, but it wasn't bad. Good thing Fiero's ominous announcement about it never getting better wouldn't be true for her.
Though it didn't matter now, right? Civilization. Back to civilization.
"Dieter Hobbs!" Shara bellowed at what were probably the main doors. "I see your number on the board! Don't you hide your sorry ass in there!"
The center seam in the taller-than-a-chionisaur doors cracked, and the panels hissed open to reveal a tall man with shockingly red hair who was dressed in a flight suit and a forbidding frown. "You've got big brass balls coming back here, you skeezy pirate."
"Yeah, they've always been bigger than yours."
They glowered at each other, arms crossed. Shara's glower collapsed into a grin first. "C'mere, you jackass."
The hug collision was a flurry of cheerful violence complete with the obligatory backslapping.
"It's been a dog's age!"
"How've you been?"
"Still the same crew?" Dieter made a show of looking around, his eyes widening when they got to Sofia. "Holy fuck. I mean, ah, ma'am? Aren't you the missing guest?"
"Yes, I'm Sof—"
"Thank fuck. Er, sorry. Just a relief, you see. Flight control had us on rotating search patterns after Charlie did a flyover and found the pod empty. We hoped one of the transport crews had picked you up, but the snow and the wind really do for any tracks." He took Sofia's arm and propelled her toward the doors. "Come in, come in. We have to show you, er, show management, that is, have you talk to management so they call off…so they know you're all right."
"The girl's not a parcel," Shara growled from behind them.
"I know, Shar. I know. Management's been…well, you know. And us pilots have been worried."
No translation was necessary. Sofia knew corporate management types well enough. They'd have been worried about bad press, about reputation. That Dieter wanted her to know that the pilots had been worried for her, though—that plunked some warm fuzzies in her heart.
Sofia tried to dig her heels in as she twisted to count the people behind her. "Where's Marta?"
"Went to settle the bubbies in their bay." Shara's voice was oddly tentative. "We'll make sure you have time to say goodbye to her and Moon."
"Goodbye?"
Shara's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. They'll get you to the resort from here. Probably take some doing, but that's what you wanted, right?"
"I…" Yes. It's what she'd wanted, though she hadn't been clear on the part where they didn't have to ride all the way back to the resort for it to happen. Why then did it hurt now to have Shara say it?
It took a few yards of pondering, but the answer crept up on her on silent, resentful paws. What she'd learned didn't matter. What she'd done didn't matter. The hours of conversation around meal times—none of it mattered. She'd always been, and still was, nothing but luggage. Wasn't she?
She mirrored Shara's hard stare and thought she saw uncertainty there. Her sudden stop nearly pitched Dieter onto his face, since he still had hold of her arm. "Do you want me gone?"
"Not anything that's up to me, is it?" Shara gave a shrug that wasn't as nonchalant as she probably hoped. "We did the right thing. You're here. Now you can get back to your life."
Huh.
"Moon will miss you. She's never picked a person before."
"Gah!" Dieter stumbled again as Marta appeared silently on his left. "Don't do that to me!"
The grin Marta flashed him was all predatory triumph. The more sober look she shot Sofia two steps later held equal parts hesitancy and question, but the crew peeled off to the galley, and Sofia didn't have a chance to ask.
Dim and industrial described the communications center nicely. Several displays showed shifting charts and readouts—probably weather information and flight paths. One rolling chair that looked near the end of its life sat in front of the main vid plate. One portable heating unit—which Dieter squirreled away in a closet, so its authorized use was doubtful—had occupied much of the remaining floor space.
"Give me just a sec." Dieter threw himself into the chair with reckless abandon. It screamed in protest but didn't choose that moment to collapse.
Sofia stood more or less in the doorway shifting from foot to foot and wondering what she was giving him a second for. His fingers flew over the holo board, typing out long strings of numbers, before he settled back, cracked his knuckles, and took on an air of waiting.
Only two seconds had passed when the comm board pinged and a pleasant AI voice came on. Central Control. How may I direct your call?
"YP Pilot D. Hobbs, ID SP758364. I need to speak to Central Management, highest levels currently possible."
Hold times are several hours. Please state the reason for your—
Dieter cut the AI off. "Guest Sofia Cancino recovered. Standing here with me."
One moment, please.
"I feel so important," Sofia muttered.
"Oh, you are, Ms. Cancino." If Dieter had tried any harder not to smile, Sofia was certain his face would’ve cracked. "The top layers have been hand-wringing about you ever since your pod went off course."
A moment later an image of seven snowflakes—the Yule Planet logo—replaced the hold screen. Sofia expected it to flick over to a view of faces, or at least a face, but it remained.
"Don't we get to see them?" she whispered to Dieter.
"Nuh-uh," he answered without moving his mouth.
"But they can see us?"
"Uh-huh."
Excellent work, Pilot Hobbs. The voice was male, patrician, probably past middle age, and dry as dust. Please put Ms. Cancino on.
Dieter scrambled from the chair and held it steady as Sofia lowered herself into it gingerly. It creaked and grumbled but held. "Hello? I'm Sofia Cancino. To whom am I speaking?"
Good afternoon, Ms. Cancino. We've been very concerned. Are you well? Do you require medical assistance?
Sofia did her best not to snort at the concern for her welfare this late in the game. A tiny one might have gotten out. Nor did it escape her notice that the voice ignored her question. "I'm fine, thank you. Though really, I shouldn't be thanking you. Your landing pod malfunction nearly killed me. It's a good thing one of the chionisaur teams was nearby."
We deeply regret any inconvenience or discomfort this may have caused. Please rest assured the sensor malfunction that caused your pod to divert from its landing lane has been addressed. We also regret that you have been subjected to such rough company in the interim.
"I'm glad to hear no one else has to crash land." She felt no obligation to give them any concessions, least of all on that last statement. "And the work crew who rescued me has kept me safe and healthy. You should be commending them instead of insulting them."
Positive flags have been placed in their files. Did the voice sound a little colder? We have, of course, fully refunded your transport, resort, and hotel fees—
"I would hope so," Sofia murmured, though the voice barreled on.
—and would like to offer you a full week's stay on us as well. We'll be bringing you in by shuttle to the nearest reindeer sleigh junction point, and from there the sleigh will bring you in comfort to Yule Village. If you could just sign a few documents for us, we'll get that process started as quickly as possible.
The first page of the doc popped up to replace the logo image, and Sofia dutifully began to read like a good consumer. Blah blah hold company harmless, blah blah full compensation, blah blah nondisclosure… When she hit the NDA, she laughed so hard the chair threatened mutiny. They were negotiating her silence. This company that created a world of perfect, undisturbed charm for its paying guests at the expense of all the people making it work behind the scenes? Wanted to buy her off. She'd been willing to swallow the whole package and never think about scratching away the veneer. Not that she would have been able to find out… No. Marta would've known. She would've dug into the company and found things out, if only to uncover if the reindeer were being treated ethically and the chionisaurs' habitat wasn't being destroyed.
A sharp jolt shot through her to realize that she admired Marta. Criminal in some of her actions, yes, but those actions had a diamond-hard ethical center. She acted out of a need to rescue rather than to harm. Marta.
Ms. Cancino? Is everything all right?
Was it? In a way, nothing was all right. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the faces gathering near the doorway—Shara, Hecky, Fiero, Petey, Marta ducking under Shara's arm. Maybe everything was all right.
"Just fine, thank you." She dismissed the documents of legal misdirection with a wave of her fingers. "I'm not signing that."
We can't pull one of our pilots out of rotation without certain documents signed, Ms. Cancino. Take some time if you need to peruse the forms, but—
"No. I could take three days, and I'm still not signing. And I'm not about to inconvenience your hardworking pilots."
That earned her a thousand-watt grin from Dieter and a sharp nod from Shara. She came to a quick decision.
But we need to—
"Again, no. I made a promise to Shara to help on this cargo run, and I'm keeping it."
The ambient noise from the other end cut out abruptly, though the signal light stayed on. The bigwigs had gone on mute.
"Can we mute them?" Sofia whispered.
Dieter gave a barely perceptible headshake no.
Ms. Cancino, this just isn't possible. You're not contracted and we can't be liable—
"Of course you're liable. You're liable for this whole alternative vacation I've been on. That's why you're not going to interfere, I'm going to keep my promise and finish this delivery run with Shara's crew, and we'll have another chat when I come in." In the doorway, Marta gave her an encouraging wink. "Beyond that, I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Corporate Logo."
A furtive flurry of rustling came through before the voice returned. As you wish, then, Ms. Cancino. Our staff will make every effort to assist you in any way possible. Please be advised that this call is being filed for the protection of all parties. We'll speak again in a few days.
The call cut out. The light clicked off. A joyous cacophony broke out in the hall while Dieter patted her shoulder. Hard to make out much of anything except Hecky yodeling, "Shut them down! She shut them down!"
"Settle, people!" Shara's bellow cut across the noise. Once she had relative quiet, she asked, "You're sure about this? You want to help load cargo and ride all the way back with us? Not too late to call them back."
"I guess I should've asked first." Sofia stood carefully from the cranky chair. "Is it all right if I stay with you?"
"Anyone opposed?" Shara glanced around at her troop. They stood frozen, as if they'd all forgotten how to breathe. "Okay then. You ride back with us. Moon'll be happy, at least."
Sofia ducked her head to hide the sudden prickling moisture in her eyes. Did she long for a real bed, a shower, for food that wasn't freeze dried, for consistent temperatures? Of course she did. But this felt more…important. For once in her life, she needed to do something, to be somewhere that counted. Maybe this bone-deep feeling was nothing and she was wasting her time. Everyone would say awkward goodbyes when they got to the resort, and she would be nothing but a funny story to tell at dinner sometimes.
But the way those intense dark eyes watched her so carefully when they talked in the evenings, the way Marta curled in on herself as if she didn't trust herself to come closer—Sofia didn't think she'd been imagining things.
"Is the crew staying tonight, Shara?" Dieter shot a nervous glance at the chronometer high on the wall. "You don't have much light left."
Shara looked like she'd bitten into a lemon rind. "Yeah. We'll make up the time somewhere. Never make Camp Fourteen today."
Dieter threw both arms up in a show of jubilation. "Hooray! To the galley! Dinner's on me. Well, on the company, at least. And I don't need to have another sad, lonely meal!"
"We could lock you out," Fiero called back as they all filed down the hall.
With a dramatic gasp, Dieter clutched his chest and lurched forward. "You…you wouldn’t."
Tre rolled their eyes. "Drama queen. Of course we wouldn't." They slid an arm around Dieter's waist and steered him out, leaving Sofia alone with Marta.
"You didn't have to do that." Marta had wrapped her arms tight around her own ribs.
"Maybe." For the first time since her earliest school crush, Sofia felt the prickle heat of awkwardness work up her torso to her face. "It kinda felt like I did."
"All right." Marta rocked from foot to foot, staring at the floor.
"Are the bubbies fed?"
Marta tipped her head to the side, the little ground-floor smile pulling at her lips. "You called them bubbies. Not monsters. Not beasts."
"Well, there's Moon—and I guess I did."
"I did. Feed them." Marta was quiet for a moment, then blurted out, "It's easy at the drop bases. They have protein slabs for them here."
Sofia laughed, helpless to prevent it. "Mierda. We're being so silly."
"What?" Marta drew back a step, eyes narrowing.
"Acting like teenagers." Sofia cleared her throat and tamped down on her nervous giggling, though her stomach trembled. "Here. I'll start. I think you're beautiful and amazing. Smart and fearless. Okay, your turn."
Marta's lips compressed into what should've been a stern expression, but it kept twisting. "You're loud and brash—"
"Hey!"
She lost her battle with her expression and snickered. "And sheltered."
"Well, you're…you're…too honest."
Marta nodded, still laughing. "I think the words you're looking for are tactless and undiplomatic. Those showed up in performance reviews more than once. I think you're beautiful and amazing, too. Your natural curiosity and determination are stunning."
"You're not really a criminal sociopath."
"You're not entirely a princess."
"Look, I like you." Sofia edged closer. "I didn't at first. Not sure you could tell, since I'm so subtle. And I know you didn't like me. But I like talking to you. Can we start there?"
Marta unfolded her arms. "I like talking to you, too. You crash-landed into a situation where everything was completely new, and I wasn't patient because of what I thought I saw in you. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry I yelled so much." Sofia reached out a hand. Marta's fingers closed around hers, rough, calloused, and surprisingly small.
"Defense mechanism. Dinner before they start worrying about us?"
By the time they reached the galley, hand-in-hand, a flurry of activity had nearly completed whisking dinner to the table, which pointed to Dieter knowing—or strongly hoping—he'd have company that evening.
A real vat-protein roast had pride of place in the center of the table, surrounded by actual potatoes, peas, and carrots that had never been freeze-dried, and wine, for all the holies' sakes. The work-release crews were definitely getting inferior supplies. Dinner was raucous and joyful, with some catching up, some trading of funny stories—Hecky and Dieter trying to out-pilot each other—a lot of outrageous flirting, and maybe a little too much wine. There might have been one or two stumbles during cleanup.
When the last dish had been put in the scrubber, Dieter flung his arms wide. "Who wants to sleep in pilot's quarters?"
"Us, please!" Petey flung up his hand as if he were in class.
Tre sidled up to Dieter, toying with the zipper on his flight suit. "If he'll have us. Feeling energetic, sweetie?"
Lanel took his other side and they were already herding the pilot out when Shara turned from the cooler and spotted what was happening. "Hey!"
"Snooze you lose, boss," Tre warbled as they hurried out of the room.
"Well, fuck," Shara muttered, her expression apparently unable to choose between amused and aggravated.
Fiero slid an arm through hers. "Don't mind if I do. Come on, Shar. It's been a bit."
While they made their more sedate way out, Hecky tracked them with wide, forlorn eyes, her foot bouncing on a stool rung as she chewed on her thumbnail.
Shara stopped in the doorway and directed a pointed glance at her. "Well? Come on if you're coming, Heck."
"Yes!" Hecky double fist pumped, leaped off the stool, did a little hip-wriggling victory dance, and dashed after them.
Impossible not to laugh at that display, but Sofia kept it brief. In the strange, sudden quiet, she was almost afraid to speak. "Just you and me left."
"True." Marta held out a hand this time and waited for Sofia to take it. "And there's one more room with a shower left, too. Want to share it with me?"
"The room or the shower?"
"Both?"
A delicious shiver ran through the center of Sofia's body. "You know, I think I would."
They passed one door from behind which a good deal of commotion drifted. Obvious who had gone into that room. The next room was quieter, with water running in the pipes. A water shower…
Marta must've caught her moment of realization. "No shortage of water here. Ever. The trick is having enough power to heat it. Our trail camps don't have enough to spare, but the shuttle bases have better-maintained power plants."
"My apartment's on Keller station. We rarely have shortages, but we do have allotments. So you go sonic and save the water showers for special occasions."
"Ah, special occasions." Marta squeezed Sofia's hand but kept her gaze on the corridor ahead. "Like first dates?"
Sofia, also carefully not looking, bumped hips with her. "Yes. Like that."
The last door on the left opened for them as they stepped into its line of sight. While the quarters weren't anything spectacular, an actual bed sat beside the wall instead of a sleeping pod, and the bathroom was private.
"Looks a little cozy." Sofia leaned into the facilities to assess the shower. "Want to go first?"
Marta checked out the shower by butting her head up under Sofia's arm. "There's room for two. Just watch your bony elbows."
"Mine aren’t any bonier than yours."
"No, but you're taller." Marta snagged the hem of Sofia's sweater as she turned around and tried to pull it off. Even standing on tiptoe, she failed. "See? Too tall. I don't want an elbow in my face."
Sofia laughed and finished freeing her trapped head and arms. "All right. I'll be careful around your tininess."
"Not tiny." Marta shimmied out of her insulated coveralls. "Compact."
"Oh yes," Sofia whispered as the baggy material hit the floor.
The perfect word—compact. Hard-muscled and beautifully defined, Marta was still sleek and dangerous in the way of small predators. Coiled, deliberate tension. Sofia was certain her face was so overheated it was glowing. No bra. The coveralls provided all the support Marta's perfect handful-each breasts required, and the black thermaskin thigh huggers were ridiculously sexy on her.
"You don't usually shower with your clothes on, do you?" The corners of Marta's eyes crinkled in amusement, and Sofia's heart melted into a puddle.
"No—oh! Right."
Apparently her brain was melting, too. Sofia shucked her borrowed pants and struggled out of her bra without bothering with the fastenings and, thankfully, without dislocating a shoulder. There. Underwear parity.
Marta took her hand and tugged her close enough for a soft, tentative kiss. Her lips were chapped but not enough to disguise the soft, silken warmth. With a needy sound, Sofia stepped closer to take Marta fully in her arms, pleased when strong arms wrapped tight around her in response. Breasts pressed up against Marta's. Sofia pulled back with a gasp.
"We're not going to make it to the shower this way."
Marta laughed. "Yes, you're right. We're both on the gross side. Shower first."
The shower was a tight fit for two, sure, but the water was hot. The water jets pounding tight shoulder and neck muscles was sinfully delicious. Even though they were forced to press up against each other—what a shame—they managed to stick to cleaning up through washing each other's hair and backs. No mishaps until Marta reached a hand between them and Sofia twitched at the sudden jolt of pleasure.
"Ow!"
Score one for the elbow-to-face prediction. "Sorry. Crap, I'm sorry."
"No, no. It's okay. Stupid move on my part." Marta leaned back, rubbing her jaw. "Ready to get out of this oversized thermos?"
"I think we're clean enough to get each other dirty."
"Ha. Think you're funny, don't you?"
Sofia just grinned and let Marta tug her out of the shower capsule and into the column of air for the dry cycle. Standing on tiptoe, Marta used it as another excuse for a kiss, her arms wrapped around Sofia's neck, and if Sofia was being honest, she'd missed kissing the most, another body plastered up against hers, soft in all the right places. Marta's tongue darted in, sending an electric thrill all the way to Sofia's toes.
"Mmm, bed?"
"Your hair's still wet."
"Good thing we're not going outside then, isn't it?" Sofia didn't want to let go, but she did long enough to cross over to the bed, throw the insulated covers back, and flop down on her back while pulling Marta on top of her.
"This is nice." Marta heaved a gusty sigh and rested her head on Sofia's shoulder. "Warm, warm, warm."
Sofia stroked her back, letting her hand slide down to brush the top curves of Marta's firm ass. Did it make it harder to go back out into the frigid wastes, these moments of comfort? Or did it make the worst of the cold easier to bear, knowing there was warmth and companionship at the end?
Marta tapped her nose with one finger. "You're thinking too hard. Stop that."
"Sorry." Sofia let her hand wander lower, cupping one perfect cheek. "Better?"
"Much." Marta wriggled under her hand, nudging a knee between Sofia's legs so Marta could ride her thigh in languorous humps.
The knee pressing against Sofia encouraged her own case of wriggles as she readjusted for better contact and tried to shove a hand between their undulating bodies.
"Mmph, hold up." Another squirm, and Marta rose up on her knees, her head on Sofia's more substantial breasts, where she licked eagerly at a nipple. "Pillows. Nice."
Sofia gasped when she wanted to snort, the sound coming out strangled. Not that she was going to complain, especially when she reached between Marta's legs and found wet heat. A full-body shudder ran through Marta as Sofia stroked a feather-soft touch over her clit. She buried a moan between Sofia's breasts and slid a hand down Sofia's front.
Sofia arched and cried out. Thumb. Right in with the thumb. Though just the pad at the entrance, describing soft circles, and letting Sofia feel how wet she was too. Marta's thumb slid up to tease her nub and back down to press in a little farther. Panting, Sofia slid two fingers inside Marta, wanting to take her new lover over the edge with her. The sparks of pleasure had already coalesced into a roaring fire.
"A little deeper," Marta gasped. "Your thumb right…oh…Sofia…gods!"
Back arching, Sofia found the perfect angle as Marta's channel squeezed her fingers tight. She tucked her face against Marta's shoulder to muffle her cries as she crested, hips rising and falling in desperate arcs until the contractions slowed.
They retrieved hands from their semi-awkward positions, and Marta collapsed in Sofia's arms, her breaths puffing against Sofia's throat as they lay gasping.
"Mmm, that was—"
"Inelegant? Fumbly?"
Marta laughed and smacked Sofia's arm. "Wonderful. That was wonderful. I think it's just been a while for both of us."
"I promise not to ask how long if you promise."
"Deal."
Sofia turned so that Marta lay beside her and smoothed the thick, black hair out of her eyes. She kissed sleepy eyelids and pulled the covers up over both of them. "Wonderful. You're wonderful. Thank you for seeing me instead of what you first saw."
"I could say the same." Marta leaned in to kiss her, soft and slow. "Go to sleep, Sof. Mmm. Warm."
The floor lights around the perimeter of the room came on at half intensity in the morning. Sofia stretched, wonderfully warm, comfortable, and replete. Part of her wanted to roll over and snuggle with a human furnace, but Sofia found she was restless. Marta looked too peaceful and too achingly lovely to wake, curled up on her side with one hand tucked under her chin. Carefully, Sofia eased out of bed and fished on the floor for clothes.
The shuttle base was warm enough that socks, pants, and undershirt were sufficient. Sofia swore softly at the creaky cabin door, but Marta didn't stir as she left the cabin. While she didn't think she'd be the only one up early, she was shocked to find Dieter the sole occupant of the kitchen.
His eyes half-closed, his shock of red hair a tousled mess, he smiled to himself and hummed softly as he stirred sugar into his coffee. "Oh, hi. Morning." He covered a yawn as he lifted the coffee in salute.
"Morning. I didn't expect you up. I mean, I thought you'd be exhausted." Oh, yeah. Not awkward at all. Sofia busied her hands with getting coffee to cover her chagrin.
"I am. Don't tell anyone, though. Would ruin my reputation." Dieter gave a vague wave and collapsed into a chair. "Don't worry about saying the wrong thing. I'll talk about anything. But if you say I'm a carrottop, we're gonna fight."
In for a credit, in for a full pay cycle. "Do you sleep with all of them?"
"All the work crews? Hell, no. I only really like a couple crews." Dieter stared into his coffee as if he'd forgotten the question until he shook himself. "All of this crew? No. Only the ones who'll have me. Marta isn't interested in male-type people. Fiero isn't interested in me. And Hecky only if Shara's also involved."
"She has a thing for Shara, doesn't she?"
He nodded. "Pretty obvious, right? It works for now, but Shar's afraid of letting the kid too close. Someday, they'll go back to their separate lives."
"But Petey and—"
"Ha. Yeah." Dieter grinned into the next sip of coffee. "The triad's different. They've committed to each other. They've made plans about what life will look like after. The ground after being released isn't so stable for everyone."
"Oh. Sure." Sofia drank, glowing trails of warmth painting their way down her throat. "You resent it ever? Being on the outside of their relationships?"
Someone else might have been angry at the question. Dieter considered, serious and lost in thought as he tapped the table. "Resent's probably not the right word. I'd be happy if they were here all the time. Alone too long is a bad look for me. But I wouldn't want to tie them to me. Or me to them. I want them all to go have lives they want when they're done here."
"Will they?" Sofia twirled her cup between her hands. She'd seen enough, heard enough by now that she had suspicions. "Do they have a chance?"
"Everyone gets a fair chance once their sentence is finished. Don't you know that, Ms. Sofia?" His unconvincing smile slipped into a grimace. "The game's fixed. Petey might have a chance, with his pension and his contract pay, to set up a life for the three of them. The rest? They'll walk out with next to nothing."
"I want to ask you some things, but if the company has monitoring in all the rooms, I don't want to get you in trouble."
Dieter let out a bark of laughter. "If Y-Corp's been monitoring the kitchen, we're all already royally fucked."
"Fair enough. Okay. So I know the crews get paid for the cargo-hauling runs if they make deadlines. But I wonder if you know what comes out of that pay…"
The discussion was as enlightening as Sofia had hoped. Despite his flair for the dramatic, Dieter kept a wealth of details in his brain that he was more than willing to share. Sofia went from having vague notions to the beginnings of plans.