The black shuttle approached and the station 'Grace-919' came into view through the optical sensors. Rolf had been clear to the crew that the designation 'Grace' was a misnomer. Scorched hulls scavenged from various irrelevant and unrelated conflicts had been welded into a network of shelters that could maintain air pressure. Floating in space, the station seemed to be some sort of massive insect hive composed of rust and debris. Shuttles circled the nest, housing peddlers trading in weapons, raw materials and scrap. The station had no centralized transportation system to serve the half-million inhabitants; one could walk kilometers in a city that had no map, or one could hop on a small ion-drive shuttle between the ragged cruisers and frigates that composed the structure. One rarely would spend time on this station when one had other options; there were few ships docked among the hulks that were clean, and none that were safe. For those with a martial inclination, though, there would be opportunities for work.

Freighters from civilized space deposited supplies at the station every few megaseconds. The civilized folk wanted to make sure the people who inhabited free space had no reason to come back. Weapons and war were more expensive than food, after all. Grace was positioned within reach of civilized space so that access to supplies wouldn't be a problem, and separated by sufficient distance to ensure security wouldn't become an issue. Government security forces wouldn't venture into free space as long as the rowdier free folk kept their activities clandestine, except on occasion, when something needed to be moved or made to disappear.

As such, Rolf had found the contract to deliver equipment to N-X-171, and the government even offered the temporary use of an off-registry transport. But after that disaster, his crew of refugees understood they wouldn't be paid, despite the completion of the job. The assignment was discrete, and as N-X-171 vanished, so did any record of Rolf's involvement.

Well, the shuttle would have to stand in as payment. Docking was simple, without the formal calls and check-lists found in governed space. A half-dozen of the ships fused into the bulk of the station maintained a skeleton crew, and on those few individual ships, the crews would charge small fees to provide outsiders with docking rights and the ability to traverse the station as pedestrians to trade and labor. But not everyone lived in poverty. Rolf knew a few people who might need help.

Upon docking, the crew configured their communicators to the local net. Rolf warned that the network on the station was spotty. Some places didn't retransmit signals, and others blocked transmissions altogether, and if they found themselves in those places, they needed to leave. The crew shuffled into the common area of the shuttle.

Rolf asked, "Kid, you feel like doing more electronics work?"

"I am agreeable," Ina said, and stepped back.

"Well, I just want to make sure you'll be around if I find something. No one else here can pick up the slack if I take work and then can't find you again, understand?"

Ina bowed her head and retreated towards her quarters. Rolf shook his head and glared at Bronco.

"What does she want?"

"Who knows. You tried asking her?"

"Yeah. She wanted to be left alone. I'm still concerned about that warning from your man Cristov. Think she stole something from the Quorum? Or was involved in the attack?"

Bronco laughed. "One does not take a post on a secret Quorum station out of adversity to risk. Boss, it's your job to figure that out. I don't even wanna think about it."

Pathik grinned and pulled Bronco towards the dock. "Boss, you know what I say. She going to get spooked and run away. If she lucky, she end up in Quorum space. Maybe. If not so lucky, well, abyss swallow you whole."

Rolf grumbled and waved the two off the shuttle. He walked to Ina's quarters and knocked. She frowned as the door slid open.

"Spend some time on the station. I need the shuttle for a bit for some private business. Look, if you want some advice, you'll be safer if you stay away from the drug lounges and bars. Maybe you can find someone needs a little help fixing something, earn us some money. Go find Bronco."

"Understood."

Colin watched Ina leave and followed Rolf to his quarters.

"You had to kick her off?"

Rolf laughed. "Been thinking about the Osiris. Thinking about setting aside a little bit of what this crew earns."

Colin wrung his hands. "And you didn't want her to know? You don't want the others to know. Skimming?"

"Right. I'm inclined, Colin. What's your call?"

"Either... you don't let anyone find out, or you tell everyone."

"This isn't the crew I want running the Osiris. I don't wanna wait that long."

Colin paced, nervous. "My share and your share, except what we need for supplies, go into the pot. Pathik's probably willing, too. If you skim from the others, well, be ready to pay them back if they find out. We can't afford another wash."

Rolf smiled. "Pathik's too honest, so don't tell him. These are good kids, shit, I don't wanna do wrong by them. But I can't wait that long."

***

Bronco passed underneath a holosign spelling out [AVID], followed by three compatriots who were dripping euphoria-inducing liquid into their eyes. Behind the crew came several women in tight, revealing dresses. Bronco's companions had to fend off their own horde, ordinary women who had made themselves attractive through make-up and dim lighting. The crew weren't locals, and that meant they would have stories and money.

Liam found a table for the group, and in seconds he was melting under the hands of a toned man with light skin and platinum blonde hair. The man started working on Liam's shoulders, and then across Liam's chest. Liam reclined in a canvas booth, enjoying the luxury. The man whispered his name into Liam's ear, and offered to take him to a private room for a kilosecond. Liam was sure the man had lied about his name, but he was beautiful, and the offer was accepted. Bronco, Ross, and Pathik laughed as Liam blushed, pulled away from the couches, and vanished into the club.

Ross looked at Pathik. "I'm slightly uncomfortable."

"Just enjoy it. Look, these ladies are enjoying themselves. You should, too," Bronco said, pointing at something written on a far wall. "Relax. We're not in a rush, huh?"

Heavy bass pulsed in the club, but the music was low enough to allow for simple conversation. A plump red-headed girl wearing a green bikini winked and disappeared. She returned with a handful of red tablets and passed them around to the group, one each.

Ten kiloseconds passed in a menagerie of flesh tones, imploding credit balances, and moist pleasure. The group fractured and vanished, plied by chemicals and pheromones and all manner of vibrant experience. At the end of the jaunt, the economy of the Grace had been bolstered by hundreds of credits, and four exhausted transients made their separate ways back to the shuttle.

When Bronco left the shuttle, Colin had warned him against excess; but it was Colin, and not Bronco, who found himself high and alone in a corridor between two abandoned cruisers; it was Colin, and not Bronco who had been drugged and taken away in the dark.

***

Rolf woke and searched the shuttle for his crew, and fumed at the carnage, the result of the previous cycle's intoxicated whoring. Ina had locked herself in her quarters; for once, Rolf was glad for the woman's extreme introversion. The announcement system in Ina's quarters rang with a harsh squawk, breaking through the barriers of an artificial trance. She made her reluctance to appear in the command deck apparent as she arrived.

The captain greeted her, his voice hoarse, skin red and puffy. Ina seemed as alert as always.

"Colin's missing."

"You want me to help find him?"

"No, Ina. He'll turn up. The problem is I have an appointment that we're going to be late for. Since the others are too busy trying to keep their livers from disintegrating... I don't want to go into a negotiation alone. You sober?"

"Yes, though I don't know that I can help you negotiate."

Rolf scratched at the whiskers on his face, conscious of his appearance. "Yeah. It's not that. I don't want to go alone, alright? Let's go for a walk, kid. You can keep your mouth closed, don't worry about saying anything unless you have something worth saying. Colin usually behaves himself while I show my ass, but we play things loose. Besides, I'm not so confident about this."

She agreed, offering a retreating statement. "Please limit your expectations of me."

Rolf asked, "Have you ever been in a fight? Not a bar fight, but where people are trying to hurt each other?"

"Other than N-X-171, no."

Rolf said, "We're going to a bad part of the station. It might be dangerous. There's something that needs breaking. I want the job."

"And you can not wait for the others to recover?"

Rolf flushed at the reminder, though pleased by her calm. "I don't have any more time for that. I was supposed to leave a kilosecond past."

Ina nodded, expressionless. "Ok."

Rolf looked at the young woman. "You should change. Dress up, and hurry. Then we will go. Alright?"

Ina glanced down at the basic gray uniform hanging from her shoulders, and returned to her quarters. She dressed in her suit. The fabric of the outfit was colorful and cut for casual comfort as much as business, but the clothes were the best she had. Rolf, dressed as he had been before, in a beige tee-shirt and matching slacks, had donned a simple black coat that hung to his knees.

He led her off the shuttle and halfway across the station. They made the trip on foot. Rolf explained that docking fees were too expensive, and he didn't expect this to pan out, and that he couldn't move the shuttle quickly with the crew incapacitated anyway. The corridors became cleaner and better-maintained along the route, until they arrived at a central area inside a massive hollowed-out cruiser. Like the other stations, the area was a central hub for commerce, but without all the flashy advertising and brands. Odors of stale food wafted through the air, and lights focused on a balcony with what appeared to be a series of restaurants playing loud music. Human culture tended to replicate itself, regardless of the circumstances, and the basic concepts of economics lent a familiar atmosphere to the most distant station.

"Ina, did you get a chance to explore much?"

Ina shook her head. "After I left the shuttle, I found food and sat and perused the data net."

Rolf read a nearby sign that threatened residents with fines for unpatched air leaks. He thought for a moment.

"Well, be a shut-in if you insist. Colin seems to trust you, and I trust him. But you don't trust us."

Ina continued in her perfect mechanical walk, and turned her head towards Rolf. "I don't understand."

"We've been together for a few megaseconds. You could have ditched us as many times. You're still here, but the others keep telling me you're upset or aloof. Bronco told me about what happened on Liberty, but he said he didn't want you to know I know. Confusing, all that."

Rolf stopped and turned to Ina. "Colin thinks you're just... focused. And I've seem people with that kind of focus before, and when they are focused on the wrong thing. Know what I mean?"

"No."

Rolf said, "Ok. Look, I just want you to know, I've got your back, but I want to know if you have mine."

Ina stared at Rolf. "I can not protect you from violence. But if my capabilities can be of service to you in a way that does not interfere with my agenda, I will," tilting her head, "have your back."

Rolf rolled his eyes. "Your agenda. You reporting to anyone? You talking with anyone about what's happening on my shuttle? The Quorum? The Urans?"

Ina turned her eyes to Rolf. "I don't understand. You are concerned I am spying on you?"

"Well? What's your agenda?"

"I'm not a spy."

"So what's keeping you with us? Why haven't you bought a ticket to a comfortable Quorum station?"

Ina frowned at Rolf. "Have you asked Ross or Liam these questions?"

"I'm asking you. I thought you were a drug-addicted geek, and... then I realized that I was wrong."

Ina stopped. "I am not a spy. I'm not a criminal. I'm surviving. I'm here because I would have no control over my life if I went to a Quorum station."

Rolf said, "You're out of your mind."

Ina agreed.

The two continued through the hub to a lengthy corridor with several security access points. Rolf provided some sort of invitation so that they could pass. When they arrived at the promenade of a clean cruiser, Rolf commented that the ship seemed intact enough to be functional. Ina agreed, sensing the subtle hum of an idle nuclear plant. Old technology, but sufficient.

The two were met in the promenade by security agents wearing sharp black suits over armored tunics, and escorted through an open hallway made of glass, swooping and vaulting high above the second and third floors of the tiered decks. At the top of the hallway, the glass flowed in to a round corridor constructed of glossy, white walls emanating soft ambient light. The floors were made of convex glass tiles, gently curving outwards, and threatening to trip any traveler who did not mind their step.

The guards led them through a series of more round hallways, passing the occasional closed door. These doors were shaped to fit into the walls in such a way that when they were closed, they left little to pry against. The corridor rose on a gentle incline, elevating to another tier, and reached a large doorway at the end. The lead guard pressed his hand against a large pressure-sensitive plate, and a laser probed the guard from above the doorway. Satisfied, the door slid open with a groan, and the group continued into a comfortable reception area. Unconcerned for mischief, the guards left the pair alone.

An old man with silky gray hair tied in a knot on top of his head waved his hand at the chairs on the perimeter of the room. A kilosecond passed slowly for Rolf. Ina's eyes lost focus and she refused to chat. Rolf wondered if that could happen when he needed her, or if the daydreaming was a symptom of the girl's habits. He reminded himself to ask her, later, what was going on, and depending on the answer, whether she could keep from doing this when she was around other people.

A door at the far end of the reception area slid open; two athletic figures emerged, a man and a woman, and Rolf heard the receptionist thank "Miss Tal" for her time, and swore under his breath. The man in the lead, a tall, lanky figure in a thick overcoat glanced at Rolf as the pair left the area.

The receptionist pressed a button behind his desk, and Rolf heard a tone. He stood and took a step, moving towards the receptionist, and saw a green light at the desk. He assumed they had been called. He looked behind him to see if Ina was following, and she crashed into him when he stopped.

"Graceful", he muttered beneath his breath.

The receptionist stood and gestured towards Rolf and Ina. He stood, and the stiff cloth panels of a sleek coat fell from his side. He walked with a preternatural elegance towards the door at the back of the room. Rolf and Ina followed into a cleanly-lit office divided by a desk in the center. The receptionist bowed; Ina returned the bow, and the receptionist pointed towards a group of seats near the desk. Ina took one of the seats.

Rolf dragged a finger across the desk, enjoying the terrestrial wood. While manufactured plant-fiber products were common, they had none of the scent, texture or presence of true wood, the ownership of which was a rare experience for lifetime spacers.

The receptionist coughed and Rolf composed himself and took the seat to Ina's right. The man left, the door closed behind him, and a door on the far side of the room opened into a dimly lit area. Curls of fragrant smoke drifted out of the room. Rolf thought the smell to be pleasant and musky, and asked the girl what she thought. Ina had no opinion, but commented that the smoke contained tobacco and vanilla, and that she was disappointed that she would have to clean her hair of the remains of the burning plant matter.

A squat, stout man with a balding head emerged through the opening. Ina took note; baldness was considered an unattractive feature, with hair combed over so, and thus the prominence of the trait in a wealthy person indicated a deliberate desire for distinction and individualism. The man introduced himself as Mister Nought. Rolf seemed a bit in awe.

Nought hummed as he took a seat in a large chair on the opposite side of the desk. The chair was wood-framed, with steel straps holding the various wooden panels of the seat together. The chair did not appear to be comfortable, with hard interior corners. Mister Nought flashed a polite smile.

"You are late."

Rolf said, "Sorry-"

"Never mind. What can you do for me? I have a problem with pirates."

"I have a stealth-equipped shuttle and a crew with some skill in hand-to-hand and infiltration."

"A shuttle? You had a bigger ship, I thought."

Rolf bristled at the insult. "Being repaired. We're laying low for a bit."

"Tell me, do you think you could engage a cruiser... Engage and win? In a shuttle?"

Rolf remained silent for a moment. Ina spoke first. "What sort of cruiser?"

Nought grinned and slid a piece of paper across his desk. Ina's seat was far enough from the desk, and he slid the paper just so that she would have to stand to retrieve it. She did.

"Zhengfei Type-12 light cruiser. Standard armament would be a two hundred megawatt ignition cannon, steer-to-aim, and a missile battery for self-defense. Limited-grade electromagnetic-discharge sensors. With minor countermeasures, that technology can not track us."

Rolf turned his head. "Ina? Can we kill it?"

She raised her shoulders and handed the paper to Rolf. "The use of mines would be considered conventional and effective. Yes, under the correct circumstances."

"Mines, hmm? That group which left a moment ago. Did you see them?"

"Yes," Rolf replied, voice caught in his throat.

Mister Nought frowned. "The job I was interviewing your crew for, this cruiser? I have hired that group to complete. They arrived early. You arrived late. They have a big ship, and you have a tiny one. They do not speak of... hmm... circumstances."

Rolf leaned in his chair and felt embarrassed as it creaked. Ina's mouth opened, but Rolf held a finger up. His chest heaved with a deep breath. "I see."

Ina kept her eyes on Nought.

The man waved his hand at Rolf, dismissing the statement. "No hard feelings, I hope. This is the way of business. There are many parables, and I won't bore you with any of them. I might have considered you qualified for the attempt, had you some measure of punctuality. I would have been amused to strike those fools with a shuttle. Please leave, and I do hope you find another opportunity, one more suited to your success and survival."

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Nought folded his hands below the desk and worked to fill a smoking pipe with fragrant herbs. Rolf clenched his teeth and shook his head. The receptionist returned, and lead the two out of the office while Mister Nought watched with a pleased smirk. Satisfied, he returned to his office.

Rolf and Ina were left to escort themselves, without the security detail, down the maze. They stepped out of the lighted office hallway and Rolf swore. Ina remained silent until they returned to the promenade.

"Could I have helped?" she asked as they reached the open area.

Rolf shook his head. "You did well, kid. Luck of the draw."

"I disagree. If I had known earlier, I could have been more prepared. We could have arrived before that other crew. I was in my quarters most of the cycle."

Rolf stopped and turned at Ina. "You're right. But most of the time, jobs don't work out. If I let it get to me, it'll tear me up."

"But you are stressed."

Rolf said, "Let's not worry about it. I'll buy you a drink. You really wanna be more involved with this stuff? You know your warships?"

Ina consented. The pair walked back to the hub and found seats in a cozy, crowded bar located alongside a broad walkway. Rolf tapped the table and scrolled through the pages. Rolf tapped a button on the menu, and a screen behind the bar chimed. A few moments later, a middle-aged man with a tired face approached the table. He beamed a practiced smile at the pair, and asked how he could help.

Rolf returned the fake smile, and asked if there was anything not on the menu. The waiter tipped his head to the side and thought for a moment.

"Sir, I can mix you anything you would like. But we only have the liquors that are listed."

Not what he was hoping for, Rolf nodded and ordered a drink made from spiced fruit juice and grain alcohol. The waiter looked at Ina, and the girl ordered a synthetic malt spirit. The waiter left, and Rolf turned to Ina.

"How old are you anyway?"

Ina watched the waiter and ignored Rolf's question.

"Ok. Nevermind. Ever been on a planet?"

Ina returned Rolf's gaze. "No."

"Spacer. Well, I was born on a planet. Maybe we can find a job, get to spend some time on some real ground. What do you think of that?"

Ina watched Rolf as he continued talking. The drinks arrived.

"What's different about me and all these people around us? Me and you, even?"

"I don't know. You stole a shuttle?"

Rolf laughed and flexed his arm. "No, that's not it. I'm planet-born. I earned the color in my skin, these freckles, and this muscle. I could throw any of those security jocks across the room without much difficulty."

"I don't understand."

"There's something different about living on the ground. Not just the sun or the gravity."

Ina listened while Rolf rambled. "You miss it most when you get dirty. Out here, when you're dirty, it's from lubricants, chemicals, fuel, maybe if you're lucky, food."

She nodded. the social gesture had seemed appropriate, and Rolf continued. "All this hygiene to keep us from tracking diseases from one place to another. On a planet, when you sweat, you stink. Not the same here. It's a good stink. It's good for your soul."

Rolf finished his drink and ordered again. Ina remained silent, observing him. Her mind worked to try and pull some thread, draw some conclusion from his ranging thoughts. "You would prefer to smell bad?"

"You'll understand some day. When you stink on a planet, it's because you're covered in life. Out here, it's because you've been exposed to some chemical that's melting your eyeballs. Given the chance, you might keep your friends at a distance, but down there, that smell isn't really a bad thing," Rolf said. "You're pretty young, aren't you? Legal? Shit, you've got to be, right?"

Ina paused and then agreed. "Yes. You feel safer on planets?"

Rolf shook his head. "That's not it."

The cogs in Rolf's mind slowed as he let the booze seep in. The waiter returned, bringing Ina her second and Rolf his fifth drink. Rolf stared at his hands. They were old, thick, with firm orange callouses padding soft flesh.

"If you do not enjoy living in space, why do you?"

Rolf looked up from the table. "Terra firma is nice to visit. But it's too expensive down there. You end up on a planet, you get stuck. Gravity does that. They get really small after a while."

Ina nodded and consulted the data in her external storage. "If you are not born on a planet, the settling fee is difficult. Despite the cost, many of those who have paid, often rush to leave."

"Exactly. Out here, any hunk of lead that will hold pressure can hold people. There are parts of this place made out of old fuel tanks or transport hulks or whatever. It's more natural, you know, to live in a home of your own making. Maybe that sort of thing doesn't exist anymore."

Ina didn't understand the comment at all. She turned her head to the side. A lanky man with shoulder-length black hair, loosely tied back with a small strap, approached the table. Rolf glared at the man, and then the tall red-haired woman who followed him. Her face showed the first signs of age, with a strong nose, and tattooed wrists extending from a bulky black shirt.

"Rolf. Long time. Who is your new friend?"

Rolf turned his gaze towards the newcomers. "Arius. Ahh. How the mighty have fallen."

He nodded at the man as if to make sure his insult had been received, and then tilted his head towards Ina.

"This is my brother. Arius. And his boss, Doctor Layla Tal." Rolf turned his head back towards the man. "This is Ina. She's been traveling with my crew for a while."

Ina nodded and let her head shift to the side while she attempted to assess the pair. Rolf glared, upset by the sensual manner Ina exposed her neck to the others. He laughed at himself, banishing the thought.

Arius smirked, "Well, I didn't expect to see you here. Fallen, though? Did Nought hire you? He pays well."

Rolf pulled his nerves tight. "Hmm, no. You won again, and I'm unemployed. What can I help you with, then, brother?"

Layla pulled a chair behind Ina. Ina could sense the heat from her body on her own skin; the woman sat too close. Ina felt surrounded and agoraphobic.

The woman spoke. "Well, I have a small crew. And the job Nought wishes to hire us for, well... he has his concerns. Sober up, we'll have a meal later. Arius ran a scan for the Osiris, but it's not docked here? Don't tell me you sold her? But then, my Destiny is the only proper warship here. Hum."

Rolf tightened his throat and began to grumble when Ina cut him off. "We do have business to attend for some time. We can meet you here in one hundred kiloseconds for conversation. Is that satisfactory?"

Arius took notice of the strange way Ina squirmed in her seat. "You've got the deputy running the show while you get drunk. Great job, brother. Things have changed for you."

Layla smirked at Rolf's sour smile, and slid from her chair. The two glided into the crowd and out of sight. Rolf peered at Ina with a face full of scorn. "We don't actually have to show up tomorrow, do we?"

A heartbeat passed, and Rolf thought better of the statement. Ina seemed to be glowering at him, more than usual. He realized he should have eaten a meal before drinking so much. He waited until she spoke.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"You have got to stop acting so fucking high all the time. And where the fuck is Colin?"

Ina finished her drink, and then waved her credit chip over the menu. She stood, put her hand on Rolf's shoulder, and the two returned to the shuttle.

***

The crew sat around the common area. Everyone except the medic was present. The air had grown thick, infiltrated by the station's messy un-recycled volume.

"We have a problem," Rolf barked. "Colin has been missing for a cycle. Ina pinged his communicator for a location, and Ross found it in a pile of refuse in a nearby hulk."

"I asked around. No one would admit to seeing him or anything," Ross added.

Pathik squirmed. "I was warned that there are traffickers on station. I tried, but no details."

Bronco peered at Pathik over crossed arms. "Traffickers? You think Colin got grabbed by a chop shop?"

Pathik shook his head. "Don't know. But he has prosthetics. They might not have known. Or, worse, they did know."

Liam glanced at Pathik sideways, confused. Pathik felt the gaze and returned the stare before continuing.

"Got exposed to some chemicals when he was in the military. Got new nerves, liver and kidneys out of the deal."

Ina looked at Bronco and whispered. "I don't understand. Can you explain 'chop shop'?"

Bronco looked down his nose at the girl. "Okay. A brat like you wouldn't know. Out here we can't get the kind of hardware you need to fix bodies in a shopping center. We don't have tech labs. We don't have the licenses. No Quorum medics. You get hurt, what do you do?"

Ina shook her head.

Liam joined in. "So sometimes people get recycled. And usually, those people don't want to be recycled. Who last saw Colin?"

"He went off alone," Rolf responded. "Ok. Buddy system. Pathik, you're with me. Bronco, take Ina. Soldier boys, go forth. Run the corridors, find out what you can, and stay in touch at least every five kilosecs. Don't take risks."

"Er, boss, I hate to be like this, but we don't have a chance of finding him. Not like that."

"Ross, you're a fucking optimist, aren't you?"

Bronco laughed at Rolf's comment. "Look, brothers, turn over rocks and you'll find something slithering. Ross, you done this before? No? People gonna get spooked just by the fact we're looking. These pirate types are dumb bastards that prey on the assumption people don't go looking for trouble. We gonna go hunting, we gonna catch something. Grab what you got that's sharp or loud, let's go figure this out."

Ina looked at Bronco and gave him a quick expressionless nod. Bronco slapped Ross on the back in a friendly gesture and the group began to deploy. They muddled for two kiloseconds, trying to partition the station, but the strange network of links between hulks defied such orientation. The team would require at least a megasecond to cover the public station territory superficially. Colin wouldn't survive that long if he had been taken. Rolf wouldn't relent, certain that Colin wouldn't have lost his communicator, and if he had, he would have returned.

Rolf wondered about who'd warned Pathik.

***

Ina led Bronco to the bar she had left earlier. The waiter was working the shift and recognized the girl. Ina waved and the man stopped in front of her. Ina explained Colin's situation. The waiter was sympathetic, but replied that he couldn't help. Bronco thought it had been a good idea, though Ina knew she was grasping at vapors.

The waiter returned to the pair, standing outside the bar plotting their next move, and handed Ina his communicator.

"It's a friend," the waiter whispered. "Sort of."

The device chirped. "Miss, you're not from the Grace, right?"

"No, I came here with a crew."

"This isn't a bad place. We're not partial to murder or body theft. Mitt told me your friend is missing, and I mentioned it... dammit. We're a close-knit community, and someone told me something. Some jackass got caught stealing glassware from a bar. You know what I'm saying?"

"No."

"Right... well... you know, they grab samples from glassware, use it to find compatible... This dude got ejected, you know, told he can't leave his own ship. Security didn't follow through with any sort of investigation. Why would they, right? Look, I got the frigate's name. Not much, and not proof or anything, but maybe your friends can do something. We don't want traffickers here and security won't deal with it."

The man relayed the location. The frigate was four kiloseconds away by foot. Bronco sent a message to Ross and Liam. The two men were closer, having headed in the opposite direction of Bronco, and would check on the frigate.

Rolf found a similar lead through different methods, and told Liam to hold position outside the frigate until they arrived. Bronco and Ina rushed in the same direction. Bronco knew Rolf wouldn't wait, but didn't want to arrive exhausted or leave Ina on her own.

Ross and Liam arrived and scouted the area and saw a few people walk on the frigate, all wearing clothes that had once been typical of the gray shirts and trousers given to the poor, but augmented with colored patches of bushy, wispy fabric. Rolf and Pathik arrived.

"What have we got?" Rolf asked.

"I'm not sure. It's a small boat, maybe a dozen crew. I know we're not supposed to judge on appearance, but they're wearing privateer patches," Ross replied.

Liam agreed. "The frigate's just through this 'cruiser'. Everyone here is destitute. This is as bad as it gets here. But we haven't seen any real weapons." He pulled up his shirt to show a holster at his hip. "Anyone else carrying?"

"We want to talk to them, or just go?"

"We're outnumbered, but we're also probably better armed and more experienced," Ross said.

"Are we sure he's here?" Liam asked.

"Sure," Rolf replied. "Three different people pointed us this way. And even if he's not here, no one minds us caving in a few pirate skulls."

Pathik grinned and led the group the cruiser's central corridor, to the docking lobby where the frigate waited.

The four made an unwelcome entrance onto the frigate, and six bedraggled refugees shouted and scrambled towards improvised bludgeons and a lone firearm hanging on a far wall.

Pathik was first into the frigate's lobby. He managed to crack an opponent's jaw with a well-placed kick before his head connected with a plastic club wielded by someone else, and his lights went out.

Rolf pulled a large machete from his boot, raced through the airlock, and swung the blade at the first man in front of him. He tore open loose purple fabric and pushed the knife into the side of the man's abdomen. The blade was stuck, so he stepped around, pulling the dying, screaming pirate between him an oncoming gray bludgeon. The club crushed the man's shoulder, and the man fell to the ground, his pulsing insides spilling onto the floor. Rolf dropped to his knees and wrenched the blade from the man's exposed viscera. The blade came out in time for to Rolf block several heavy overhead blows. Rolf waited for his panicking opponent to leave an opening. The lighter, faster weapon struck something other than air or plastic.

The four remaining frigate crew moved back towards the walls and tried to flank the intruders. One of the patchwork bandits got ahold of the rifle hanging on the far wall. Liam dove to the ground as the man started firing, the sound of the gun deafening everyone in the lobby. Ross pulled a rod from underneath his shirt, revealing a shoddy bio-resonator. Ross swept the tip of the black rod along an arc towards the bandits, and they staggered backwards one by one as waves of electromagnetic energy forced their nervous systems into temporary revolt.

The rifle came up again as the resonator sputtered and failed. Ross ran, hoping to finish the gunman laying on the floor. He couldn't cross the distance of the room before the man took aim. The rod vibrated in his hands as the damaged battery begrudgingly powered the control electronics.

A round from the shooter's pistol tore through Ross' shoulder, spraying Rolf with a cloud of blood. The bullet was a soft-frangible type, designed for safe use aboard pressurized ships, and the energy of the shot tore skin and muscle from Ross as the bullet became a clump of fast-moving debris exiting his shoulder. The fragments passed within a few centimeters of Rolf, followed by a sticky, sandy cloud of flesh, blood, and debris that blinded the captain, smearing his face with white and red.

Ross dropped to his knees and swept the rod in another arc as the gunman kept firing. The gunman couldn't keep his aim under the pressure from the resonator, the shots went high, and at last the shooter's vision was obscured by a blossom of blood that erupted from his sternum. Liam fired three more precise shots, dropping the remaining attackers in a mist of red carnage. The fight was over in less than twenty seconds.

An alert sounded, the security doors in the lobby snapped shut, and the airlock began to close. Rolf swore and grasped at the bloody baton carried by the man he had killed. The airlock was heavy and closed slowly enough, and Rolf managed to place the baton so that the airlock was jammed open. Pathik stirred and found Rolf with a terrified expression. The bandits meant to stop the assault by venting the ship to space. The bandits would have to override safety interlocks to vent the lobby; Rolf knew he had a bit of time, at least.

Pathik stood and wiped his face with his fingers, scraping at the foreign fluids that had coated his skin and clothing while he lay on the floor. Rolf touched his communicator with a greasy hand, and demanded Bronco tell him his position.

"Moments out," Bronco promised.

Rolf helped Pathik to his feet and asked the pilot to do something about the doors. Liam had taken off his jacket and was pressing hard against Ross' shoulder. The man lay face down in a half-liter of his own blood. Rolf saw the scene and let out a string of expletives that ended with a hoarse throat.

Bronco and Ina arrived, but were stopped by the external airlock between the frigate and cruiser's docking port, which had broken the club and at last snapped shut. Bronco searched back at Ina. She had suddenly taken a seat on the dock floor and entered one of her fugues. Bronco shouted at her to go back, but she remained motionless for ten seconds. The airlock door snapped open. Bronco charged into the room and hesitated at the sight of the carnage; six dead bandits, blood covering his crew mates. Ina walked into the room, emotionless and expressionless.

Rolf looked at Bronco. "How did you get the door open?"

Bronco shook his head. "Ina?"

"Standard Quorum protocols. I authenticated with my communicator and told the door to open."

"Can you get these other doors open?"

"Yes. But this frigate can support a personnel complement of fifty, according to the design specification."

"Ok. Good. What else do you have access to?"

Ina shook her head. "Doors."

Rolf turned in a circle. "Ok. Options, Call security?"

Pathik rubbed at his head and responded. "We killed six people on their own ship. We don't have time. Command deck?"

Ina looked at Rolf. "How certain are we that this is the base of operations for the traffickers? That Colin is here? We can be the only ones who will provide an explanation."

Rolf gestured, agreeing. "Pathik, call security, medics too. Ina, can you get us to the command deck? They were gonna make vacuum. What about venting just enough atmosphere to knock everyone out? Keep Colin and anyone else alive, but stop em from moving?"

"We can discharge two thirds of the atmosphere. The level of oxygen deprivation would be dangerous only to those who are physiologically compromised." Ina glanced at Ross.

"Bronco, Ina, with me to the deck. Pathik, Liam, take care of Ross. If guards rush this place before we're done, don't get yourselves killed."

Doors slid open in the lobby outside the ship as security troops donned gear, preparing to march on the frigate. Three crept towards the command deck to save the life of two friends. The entrance was twenty meters away, and the door was open. Whoever attempted to vent the ship fled the command deck when the effort failed.

She found the controls familiar. Ina opened every door on the ship from the command deck, disabled the life support systems, and prepared to open a small exterior cargo access panel. The door to the crew deck sealed. Pathik and Liam left the lobby, and the causeway airlock closed behind them.

Ina re-engaged the life support system, maintaining enough pressure to keep survivors alive but unconscious for a short period of time. She was able to fully pressurize the lobby, using atmosphere from the station's causeway umbilical. Rolf scanned through the security system for occupied rooms and found the trafficker's intended victims bound and unconscious in various spots.

The cameras located two bodies wearing the same patchwork cloth that wrapped the corpses in the lobby. Ina admitted she couldn't manage any more atmospheric tricks. Rolf grabbed a life support mask and left to take care of the remaining bandits in a more mechanical way. Rolf gave Ina a thumbs-up over the security video, and Ina restored full pressurization to the frigate. She opened the causeway airlock and sent Pathik to the location. Ina watched the monitors until security forces closed on the frigate and the others had reached the lobby before returning herself. Rolf and Bronco had carried or herded the groggy, confused victims into the lobby.

Rolf stepped back, hands raised, as security troops entered. Rolf and Colin commenced with detailed and silver-tounged explanations to the lead officer, while other security guards passed by in waves. Several dozen flooded into the frigate, and the guards decided to shuffle all the survivors off the frigate and to a nearby "medical" facility. This was a corridor staffed by a handful of would-be "nurses" - untrained personnel with pistols, drug guns and first-aid foam.

Hidden by a sheet of opaque plastic, Ross uttered a pained sentence. "How did you talk your way out of that?"

Rolf shook his head. "It's not like your civilized space. I made it easy for them to walk away from this looking like heroes. You seem spry for someone who's missing a quarter of his chest."

Ross winced; he was flying on narco-anesthetics and synthetic blood. He knew he the misery would come and decided he would let the jest go for now.

Colin joined in the conversation. "Security in a place like this isn't a group of professionals like you or Liam were. Mostly, they are poorly-paid soldiers who want to be authority figures. But they don't have the guts to, er, deal with real situations. So they posture, but at the end of it all, they aren't accountable for what happens on the station. Make it easy for them to strut, and they will. That's what we did."

Ross understood. A nurse explained to him that they couldn't treat the damage, and that he wouldn't heal on his own. The medics let the group wash and made a comedic attempt to clean their clothing with wet towels. Rolf looked at Ross and told the young man that he may need to return to Liberty-15 or civilized space for appropriate treatment. Ross understood, and if this was what emergency medical support meant on the station, he didn't want to stay.

Ina and Bronco washed their boots while talking of having escaped the bloodshed but not the aftermath. Ina mentioned to Rolf that they might have enough time for a few kiloseconds of rest before they had their appointment with Arius, and Rolf made it clear that he would rather not deal with his brother's arrogance, not while fighting fatigue after the rush of combat. If Colin wanted, or even Ina, they could find out what Arius wanted. Colin sighed, drug-addled brain too exhausted to deal with family drama and further negotiation.

The guards watched warily as the crew headed to their ship. They were told not to stop, and to avoid the public routes, until they had cleaned themselves. Rolf wondered if he'd be exiled or arrested, but the security team was more interested in confiscating the frigate. They vented bandit bodies out of the frigate's cargo airlock and spaced two bandits that hadn't realized they were no longer allowed access to oxygen.

***

Ina went alone in meeting with the troupe and batted aside Arius' quips about Rolf's lackeys running the show. She decided she should appear, since the group had not earned any money since docking, and had shown no potential towards doing so. The trio sipped drinks in the bar until Layla insisted on retreating to another bar in the station. The location was, she promised, more relaxing.

Layla asked Ina to follow the pair into a discrete lounge. Deep, rhythmic music played and vibrated through warm furnishings. The location was not crowded, and an attendant at the entrance had charged Arius a fee, but allowed Ina and Layla entrance gratis. Arius, disinterested in conversation without opportunity to taunt his brother, wandered off into the depths of the place.

Crimson strands and long fingers guided Ina into a nook surrounded by short walls near the center of the area. The area contained a table and a small sofa. Layla sat and gestured towards an empty spot on the purple velvet couch.

"Those boys. Always competing, and miserable for it." Layla sighed and stretched.

Ina ignored the gesture and kept her eyes on Layla. "You want them to change?"

"Well, no. I grew up with Arius and Rolf. And always such hostility. What do you think of that? Did I earn it?"

"You have known..." Ina thought for a moment, and continued, "my captain for longer than I have. He doesn't seem to trust you."

Layla said, "It's never been about trust. Rolf has never been comfortable working around people smarter than him. He's an excellent pilot and perhaps even a captain. But he's never had the sort of perspective required. Sit with me."

Ina dropped onto the sofa, distancing herself for comfort, but not impolitely.

"Rolf's a jackass." Layla arched an eyebrow, "Are you with him? Is that your type?"

Ina wondered what she meant. "No. I have no..."

"Well. I heard a rumor just earlier."

Layla paused, waiting for a reaction.

Ina's face remained blank. She didn't mean to move, but her torso shifted to the side, sending a brief wave of serpentine motion through her spine and neck.

"Yes?"

Ina wondered if the way Layla licked her lips had been intended to make her feel uncomfortable. The way the other woman kept her eyes fixed seemed disorienting. Ina realized that she often stared at others in the same way, without diverting her eyes, and decided she would avoid that sort of behavior.

"Security tore apart a trading vessel just a few kilos ago. A small frigate, if that rumor serves me. Organ harvesters I guess. Security made a show of how safe they keep the citizens of this shithole."

Ina looked away and ordered a malt spirit from a computer hanging at the end of the couch armrest. The beverage appeared in a moment, delivered by a woman in a tight black dress, who vanished into the darkness after the drink was in Ina's hand. She used the interruption as an excuse to think without speaking. She wondered if this was relevant to the job, and decided that providing a small amount of information would be appropriate.

"We might have been involved in that," Ina spoke, attempting to appear coy.

Layla said, "Interested. So give me the details? Just curious, you know? If you don't want to talk, that's fine, too."

Ina fruitlessly tried to find any details about the woman that might exist on the network. She had a smooth face that lacked the shine and tightness of cosmetics or youth, and with just a few of the wrinkles and spots typical of someone whose age seemed consistent with Rolf. Determining the age of a spacer from appearance was very difficult, since the normal effects of ultraviolet radiation were not a factor. Surgery was common as an individual aged, and could be easily disguised. Layla had spent time on a planet, but not in a while. Ina knew her own synthetic skin would hide her age, and that in the dim lighting, she appeared like any other fresh-faced space-born person.

Layla ignored Ina's silence and laid her arm on the couch, so that her hand could reach Ina's shoulder. She began toying with a seam on the Ina's shirt.

Ina shifted, her head rolling in slow circles along with rhythm of the music, and rattled off a series of statements about the traffickers, and how the situation had been resolved, and admitted that she was not involved in the most intense portion of the conflict. Layla's face moved close to Ina, and whispered something in the woman's ear.

Ina froze, spoke a single word softly, and stood, letting Layla's hand to slide off her shoulder and across the rich velvet of the sofa. She gave a polite bow, and rushed out of the club. Arius, who had been watching the exchange from a distance, filled the void left by the departure.

Layla looked at the black mop on the man and flashed a sad smile. "Arius. Was she out of my league?"

Arius, laughing, turned away and faded into the music.

Ina approached her shuttle, feeling disturbed by the encounter, and certain that she had handled Layla poorly. She was preoccupied, turning the problem over in her mind, when she entered the docking tunnel leading to the shuttle, and saw Colin talking with Doctor Devon Sanders.