With everything Fresia needed finally taken care of, they headed back to the ship. Kalan’s mind turned to wondering about Artex. Traveling between far-flung parts of the galaxy wasn’t a precise science, so everyone accepted that arrival times were just estimates. Even taking into account the usual margin for error, Artex was verging into worryingly late territory. Kalan suspected the station leadership was likely debating whether or not they should launch a communication drone. On the one hand, it was the easiest way to find out if Artex was in the wormhole and just running behind schedule. On the other hand, there was a nearly fifty percent loss of communication drones sent into the wormholes. No one was sure why. Equipping drones to open the wormhole network cost a lot. That made it an expensive way to satisfy your curiosity. While military commanders could justify those kinds of losses in the name of security, civilian authorities didn’t have that excuse. It just looked like wasted money to citizens, most of whom had never spent terrifying days drifting in the wormhole without the main engine. Kalan knew from experience that it only had to happen once before those communication drones started looking like a fantastic investment, loss rate be damned.

Kalan had included his usual kill clause in the contract, so it wasn’t like he’d take a loss. If Artex didn’t arrive within eight hours or so, Kalan could keep the half-fee he’d charged up front and go his way. He didn’t relish the idea of simply abandoning the people on Ariadne Base to whatever the gods of chance or fate decided, but he ran a business. He’d just brought on another crew member. He had to keep them working so they could all eat and get paid. Sometimes, that meant invoking the kill clause and moving on to the next thing. He even had the next thing lined up. Courier gigs didn’t pay as well as freight runs, but he could probably pick up a run from Hasen 5. It wasn’t a commercial hub, as worlds went, but Kalan recalled that it was a heavily agricultural world. There was almost always something in season on agro-worlds, and someone willing to pay out better than average rates to get their crops on the market a few days sooner. He’d have to put out some feelers ahead of time since they were stopping there anyway.

Kalan was so preoccupied with his planning that it took him a moment to realize that Fresia wasn’t walking next to him anymore. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. A beefy, aspiring thug had a grip on Fresia’s ship’s bag and was trying to yank it from her grip. He watched as she loosened one hand and beat at the thug with ineffectual blows. How in all the hells had she ever survived here without learning how to defend herself, he found himself wondering. He turned and stalked back toward the struggling pair.

He wasn’t sure exactly how he wanted to handle it. When someone tried something like that with him not too long after he’d first arrived on the station, he’d reacted on instinct. Unfortunately, his instincts had been trained into him by people preparing Kalan to face off against much more dangerous things than a station thug. He’d been used to people who could at least nominally hold their own against him. That thug was dead inside of ten seconds and a permanent weight was added to Kalan’s conscience. While even station security had mostly just hand-waved it away as the price of being a stupid criminal, Kalan was given a sharp lesson about control. If he’d taken the time to test the man’s skills, he could have ended it with less-than-lethal force. He’d been much more careful since then.

He was almost seventy percent sure that he didn’t need to kill the thug hassling Fresia. Then again, it might send a very clear message to everyone that the girl was off-limits. Kalan wished the idea wasn’t quite so tempting. He’d been angrier at that fool on the docking ring, Jadis, and hadn’t ever seriously considered killing him. He pondered why this situation was making him feel more murderous, if only in a clinical way. Then, it hit him. Fresia was one of his now, under his protection, for whatever that was worth. Insults and even threats toward him didn’t bother him very much. His sense of his own value wasn’t that fragile. Threats toward one of his couldn’t be tolerated or it invited more abuses. He stepped up next to Fresia and directed an unamused look at the thug, who was barely of age if Kalan read his features right.

“Let the bag go,” said Kalan.

The thug looked at him and went absolutely white before he simply turned and sprinted away. Kalan hadn’t expected it to be so easy, but he took the win. Fresia fell into step beside him again, clutching the bag’s strap with a death grip. She didn’t speak until they were in the autolift.

“I thought you were going to kill him,” she said in a tiny voice.

His head snapped toward her. “What? Why would you think that?”

Her eyes flickered to his and then away again before she said, “Your face. You didn’t see your face. It was so, so cold, so empty. It was like looking at. It was. It scared me. I never want anyone to look at me like that.”

Kalan felt a little ill. He’d only meant to help and had clearly terrified the girl. He put a hand on her shoulder.

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“I wasn’t going to kill him, Fresia. I wasn’t even going to hurt him, not unless he did something monumentally stupid. I promise.”

She did look at him then. Kalan thought that she had to make herself do it because it looked like it cost her something.

“You could have, though. Killed him, I mean. If you wanted to.”

Kalan weighed that question for a lot longer than he normally would have. He wasn’t often tempted to lie, but it was such an attractive option right then that he almost did. In the end, he mastered his weakness. If he wanted her to trust him, he couldn’t lie. He finally nodded.

“Yes, I could have.”

“That sword and blaster aren’t just for show. You know how to use them. Like, you really know how to use them. Like a soldier or something?”

“Yes. Where I come from-,” he broke off. “Yes, I was trained. Not like a soldier, exactly, but something like that.”

Fresia seemed to think of something then and a puzzled look crossed her face. “And now you’re a freighter captain? How did that happen?”

He made a non-committal noise. “Life is inexplicable. Sometimes, it takes you down roads you never imagined.”

Fresia fell silent as the autolift doors opened and they made their way back to the docking ring. He did catch her sneaking glances at him a few times with that same perplexed expression on her face. It was like she was adding two plus three and coming up with a sum of monkey-fish. He just knew that she was going to have questions that he wasn’t going to want to answer. Kalan took a few moments to ponder why it was that he worked so hard to keep his past a secret. There was the potential embarrassment, he thought. Only a fool relished the thought of admitting he’d been banished from his world. Although the true sting of shame had faded with time and a little hard-won wisdom. He had broken Code but was seasoned enough now to recognize that his banishment had been as much about politics as it had been about punishment. He suspected that if there had been a convenient path to keep him, the Elders would have taken it. Yet, allowing him to stay would have driven a wedge into a crack that could have triggered a civil war inside the Great Temple. That, he realized, was the real reason he didn’t divulge his past. Just contemplating all the explaining it would take for anyone to really understand made him feel tired.

As they approached the ship, Kalan decided he’d deal with that problem of Fresia’s questions if or when they happened. He’d get her settled on the ship and start the prep to leave. One way or another, they were headed into the empty later that day. They’d barely set foot on the ship when Em chimed over the comms.

“Captain.”

“Yes, Em?”

“Sir, you wanted to be informed about Artex.”

“Has he arrived?”

“In a manner of speaking, sir. You should come to the bridge.”

Kalan pushed down the urge to ask a bunch of questions. “On our way.”

Fresia spent the entire walk to the bridge peering at everything in open curiosity. Kalan suspected that it was probably her first time on a ship. As they stepped onto the bridge, Em swiveled around in his navigator’s chair. The robot nodded to Kalan, who returned the gesture. Then, Em fixed his electronic gaze on Fresia. The girl stared at the robot with the same open curiosity with which she’d stared at everything else.

“Em, this is Fresia. She’ll be joining us as a crew member for a while.”

“Hello, miss,” said Em. “Welcome to the Ankala Rising.”

“Fresia,” said Kalan, “this is Em, our navigator.”

“Hi,” said Fresia.

With the formalities satisfied, Em returned his attention to Kalan. “Sir, Artex’s ship left the wormhole network approximately fifteen minutes ago. Station command sent out an escort ship.”

“Escort ship? Why?”

Em turned to his console and pulled up a live image on the screen. Artex’s ship, the Defiant Pride, looked like it had been through a serious firefight. There was burn scoring all along the hull and the ship maneuvered sluggishly, as though its navigation system or engines were badly damaged. Kalan just stared at the ship for several long moments. An attack that brazen wasn’t unknown in this part of space, but the Defiant Pride had a reputation for being well-defended. Kalan had heard some of the stories. It wasn’t the kind of ship you targeted.

“Shall I try to raise them, sir?”

“Ping their comms, but don’t be insistent. It looks like they’ve had some trouble.”

Em fiddled with his console for a few moments before a grizzled bear of a man appeared on the screen. There was a bandage wrapped around the man’s head and one of his arms was in a sling.

Kalan took a step toward the screen. “Gods, Artex. What happened to you?”

“Some kind of damned raiders, Kalan. Never seen them before, but you know how it is with them. Whatever ships they can scrounge. Sorry to hold you up like this, but it was all we could do to limp her here. The Pride’s in rough shape.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll see to the cargo tomorrow.”

“No. People need this medicine. Soon as we hit dock, I’ll have my people start transferring the cargo.”

Kalan considered for a moment. “I’ll hire Mox to move it. His people can use the credits.”

A look of profound gratitude crossed Artex’s face. “I’m obliged to you for that, son. Don’t think I have a soul aboard who isn’t banged up some way. I’ll see you on the dock.”

“We’ll see you there.”

Kalan stood there, frowning at the blank screen. He felt a tug on his sleeve. A glance showed Fresia looking up at him in concern.

“Yes?” he asked

“Does that happen a lot? Raiders?”

Kalan shook his head. “It happens, but not very often in this part of space. There’s a bit too much government for it. Once word gets back about the attack, someone will put a bounty on those ships. Artex also has a lot of friends. There’s a good chance some of them will go looking for some payback on his behalf. Those raiders are in for a rough month.”

Fresia didn’t exactly look reassured, but she nodded and said, “Okay.

“Alright, let’s get you settled in some quarters. Then, we’ll fetch our cargo.”