“Traffic around the station is a little heavier than usual, Captain,” said Em after talking with station control. “Arrival time is estimated at three hours.”

“Thank you, Em. Please contact the client and let them know we’re inbound along with our ETA.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kalan settled back into the captain’s chair and watched as Cobalt 7 slowly grew larger on the screen. He’d expected to feel tense when they arrived. Kala had informed him several days prior that while she could, in theory, break the encryption, it would take her three to four weeks.

“A month?” Kalan had asked, more than a little stunned.

“The encryption is,” the AI had paused then, a thoughtful look on her face, “substantial. Far more substantial than you’d normally see with any civilian application. I have to assume it’s a military encryption, although I couldn’t say from where.”

“When you say substantial, what do you mean by that?”

“It’s the most complex encryption I’ve ever seen. I’d relish the challenge, but circumstances would suggest that you can’t wait that long.”

Kalan nodded. He’d told the ship about the encounter with the two agents because he’d needed to talk to someone about it. He didn’t want to worry Petronan, who was barely healed, or Fresia, who didn’t need that distraction. She’d been focused in a way he hadn’t seen since his Temple days. He wasn’t sure it would last, but he wanted to leverage it for all it was worth while she was in that frame of mind.

“Is there any way to speed up the process?” He asked.

The AI considered the question before shaking her head. “Nothing practical. You could upgrade some of my hardware to boost my processing power and speed. Any time you saved on the decryption, however, you’d likely spend on getting the upgrades. You could find someone with specialized hardware built for decryption.”

“Anyone with hardware like that probably isn’t someone I’d trust. At least, not without knowing what kind of information is on that crystal. Even if I did trust them, I might well be killing them just by handing them the crystal. Any other ideas?”

“If you could access to a system that already had the decryption key loaded, that would speed things up.”

“Any system like that is no doubt guarded by a lot of heavily armed soldiers.”

“As I said, I don’t see any practical path to speeding up the decryption.”

“Very well,” said Kalan.

“Should I attempt the decryption?” The AI asked.

Kalan had pondered the question before he nodded. “Yes. I doubt we have a month, but on the off chance we do, we might as well be ready for it.”

“I’ll start immediately, captain.”

“Thank you, Kala.”

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really mean to train the girl as you were trained?”

Kalan hesitated again. “I’m not sure. I mean to see that she’s capable of protecting herself.”

“And what would that look like, in practical terms?”

Kalan wasn’t sure he knew what that would look like in practical terms. Enough that she could fight off three or four assailants if she had even a tiny bit of notice. How much would she need to know for that? How long would it take to get her there? It would take a few years at their current pace. If she really wanted to learn how to handle a sword at anything like an expert level, maybe as much as six years.

“I suppose I’ll know it when I see it,” deflected Kalan. “Why do you ask?”

“Based on my observations of you, it seems to me that possessing the kinds of skills you possess comes with a certain cost. At the very least, it forces you to make choices that other people simply don’t have to make. I doubt that, in most confrontations, your primary consideration is whether or not you can win, but whether or not you should kill any aggressors in your path.”

“That’s probably accurate.”

“Is that a choice that you want Fresia to need to make for the rest of her life?”

Kalan sighed. “No, it’s not a choice that I want her to have to make. It’s not a choice that I would want anyone to need to make. That doesn’t mean that she won’t find herself in life-or-death situations. That’s already happened. If it happens again, I want her to be able to escape it with her life. That might mean making a choice to kill. Yes, she’d pay a price for that decision, but at least it would be a decision.”

“So, you consider it a matter of autonomy?”

“I hadn’t considered the idea in quite those terms, but yes. I’m a little surprised at you. Have you gone soft on Fresia?”

“I’ve monitored her. Despite the very obvious shortcomings in her education, she has more than a little native intelligence. Properly nurtured, she could choose any number of paths. I’d,” the AI paused, “prefer that those paths not be preempted by her adolescent fascination with becoming like you.”

Kalan snorted a surprised laugh. “I think she’ll grow out of that. By the time she’s old enough for some form of higher education, I suspect she’ll have lost her appetite for relentless physical training.”

“Did you?”

“It’s different for me. You know that it’s different for me.”

The AI inclined her head to Kalan before vanishing back into the ship’s systems. Since that conversation, Kalan had been fixated on what he should do about Tessan. His initial plan was simply to cut off the man’s head and jettison the crystal out of an airlock. There would, no doubt, be some satisfaction in that. Once that moment of bloodlust passed, though, he knew it wouldn’t actually solve the problem. If the information on the crystal was as dangerous as he now believed it to be, no one would ever accept that he’d simply thrown it away. People would hound him and his ship forever. No, he needed information so he could plan a strategy. That meant confronting Tessan about where and from whom that data crystal had come. It also meant figuring out what was on that crystal if he could find a way. With anything that potentially dangerous, he doubted that he could turn it over to the rightful owner without coming up on the wrong side of a warship. He supposed it was possible, but it sounded more like wishful thinking to believe they’d take the chance. He’d gamble that way if he had to, but the only clear path forward he could see at the moment was through Tessan.

A sudden thought made Kalan sit up straight. “Em, you can handle getting us docked. I’ll be in my quarters if you need me for anything.”

The robot looked back at the captain. “Is something wrong, captain?”

“No, I just remembered that I need to speak with someone before we arrive at the station. It’s a private matter.”

“Of course, Captain. I’ll keep you informed if anything requires your attention.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Thanks.”

Kalan made his way back to his quarters and sat down at the small desk. He pulled up the communications array and sent a request to Monsell. He waited for five minutes before the loan shark appeared on the screen. The man looked annoyed.

“What do you want, Rinn?”

“We’ll be on station for a day or two. Can I trust that you won’t harass Fresia if she goes to see her mother?”

The loan shark stared at Kalan in blank incomprehension for three seconds before understanding dawned on his face. He made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Yes, yes, that’s fine. As long as she keeps her mouth shut about the terms of the deal, she can go where she likes.”

“She will.”

“Is that it?” the loan shark asked with a suspicious expression.

“As far as I know.”

Monsell relaxed. “Oh, you’re usually more of a pain in my ass than this.”

“I just didn’t want there to be any unnecessary unpleasantness.”

“That’s fair. You’re holding up your end. If she does the same, I won’t bother her.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Monsell, breaking the connection.

To his surprise, Kalan found Fresia practicing in the hangar bay. He’d told her she could take the day off since they were arriving at the station. He waited until she’d worked her way through the routine they’d been training on recently. She wasn’t where he wanted her, yet, but the moves were taking on speed and precision.

“Fresia,” he said.

She spun toward him and a pleased little part of him noted that she’d dropped instinctively into a fighting stance.

She dropped her hands and let out a breath. “You startled me.”

“Apologies. I just wanted to know if you planned to see your mother while we’re here.”

“I shouldn’t. Monsell,” she started.

“I talked to him. He said that he’ll leave you be as long as you don’t talk about him or the deal we struck. I don’t know if that’ll hold for every visit, but you’re fine for the next day or two.”

The girl let out an excited little scream, ran over, and threw her arms around Kalan. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Kalan huffed out a little laugh. “You’re welcome. You should go get cleaned up before we arrive.”

“I will.”

Fresia dashed from the hanger bay without another word. The girl’s excitement didn’t precisely lift his grim mood, but it did lighten it a little. It still took a couple of hours to get docked and unload the kelops to the buyer, but it all went smoothly. Once they were settled into a docking slip on the ring, Kalan turned Fresia and Petronan loose to handle their personal affairs. Both wandered into the milling throngs on the ring. He watched as Petronan took a protective position to Fresia’s right and started chatting with her. It was a casual move, and Fresia probably didn’t realize what the man was up to. He also noted that Fresia moved through the crowd with an air of calm surety. Satisfied, he secured the ship behind him and made his way onto the ring. He had his own business to attend to on station. It didn’t take him long to make his way to Tessan and Estra’s quarters. He pressed the pad by the door to activate the interior chime. The door opened and Tessan gave him a big smile.

“Kalan! Come in. Come in.”

Kalan smiled back and followed Tessan inside.

Tessan carried on while he sealed the door. “You’re back! Come to collect your fee, I assume.”

When Tessan turned back toward him, Kalan drew his sword and pressed it into the hollow at the base of Tessan’s neck. The big man froze. Kalan noted the lack of fear in the man’s eyes. It made Kalan wonder what he really knew about the man. He’d always known Estra better. Then again, maybe hadn’t ever really known either of them. Tessan slowly lifted his hands to either side, palms out.

“Kalan,” said Tessan in a soothing voice. “I’m not sure what’s happened, but I’m sure we can sort it out.”

“You set me up, Tessan.”

A flicker of something passed across Tessan’s face before the man smoothed it back into a calm expression. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Where did that data crystal come from Tessan? Who gave it to you?”

“I told you. It was just some old files.”

Kalan felt a little weary inside. Tessan clearly didn’t intend to tell him the truth. This was all a waste of time. Best to just be done with it quickly, Kalan decided. Tessan either sensed or saw the shift in Kalan’s demeanor because his eyes showed white all the way around the edges.

“Wait!” Tessan shouted.

“I won’t tell you to put it down,” said Estra from behind him. “I know you won’t. But you will put that sword away, Kalan Rinn.”

Kalan was impressed. He hadn’t heard or even felt Estra moving in the room behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. She was standing what she clearly thought was a safe distance away, aiming a blaster at him with a steady hand.

“Estra,” said Kalan in casual greeting. “As far as I know, this matter is just between Tessan and me. I suggest you leave it that way.”

“I know you Bloodhands are fast, Kalan, but even you’re not,” Estra began.

Kalan’s sword cleaved several inches from the blaster’s barrel and was back at Tessan’s throat before either husband or wife could react.

“Merciful gods,” breathed Tessan.

“Estra,” said Kalan, his voice harsh under the strain of keeping it calm. “Never call me that again. We are not Bloodhands. I’m not even a Warder Under the Night. I’m just a freighter captain who was sent to die by your husband. I want to know why. I want to know what’s on that crystal and where it came from. I want to know, now!”

There was a fraught moment when Kalan thought that either Estra or Tessan might do something foolish. Then, Estra heaved a sigh.

“Tell him, Tessan,” Estra ordered.

“Estra,” said Tessan, his reluctance and objections all summed up in that single word.

“He’s about two heartbeats from driving that sword through your neck. Hells, I’m not even sure I could really blame him. We’ve killed people for less. Tell. Him.”

Kalan waited as Tessan decided whether the information was worth dying for or not. Tessan apparently believed it was not, or at least not worth dying this way. The man finally exhaled through clenched teeth.

“Alright, Kalan. You win,” said Tessan.

“Good,” answered Kalan, not moving.

Tessan gave the sword a meaningful glance that Kalan blatantly ignored.

“By Kritok’s hairy balls, man,” Tessan cursed. “I said I’d tell you what you want to know.”

“Kritok,” repeated Kalan, lowering the sword. “You’re from the Zeren Authority.”

Tessan shot Kalan a look of mild offense. “Try to say that with a little less contempt. Have you ever even been there?”

“Once,” said Kalan with no elaboration.

“It isn’t all bad,” said Tessan in an insistent tone.

Kalan shrugged. On the whole, he didn’t much care about things like the relative merits of the different governments and cultures in the nearby regions of space. At least, he didn’t care beyond the way those things interfered with the smooth running of his ship. Still, his father had spent several years in the Zeren Authority as a younger man and came back with some very strong opinions about the place. Kalan’s one trip into Zeren Authority territory had confirmed all of his father’s worst views of the place. He wasn’t quite willing to say that he’d never take another load of cargo headed there, but he was in no hurry to make it happen. Still, he didn’t care to enter into a debate with Tessan over the issue and kept his opinions to himself. He looked back at Estra. The woman was staring down at the mangled blaster in one hand and the severed barrel in the other with a faint look of disbelief. She met his eyes.

“Who were you, boy?” She asked. “Before you came here. Who were you really?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kalan answered in measured tones.

She held out the two pieces of the blaster and lifted an eyebrow. “I think it does.”

“I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity,” said Kalan, turning back to Tessan. “Speak.”

“Come now, Kalan,” said Tessan, regaining some of his normal composure. “Let us at least sit and speak of this like civilized people.”

“What makes you think I’m in a civilized mood, Tessan?”

Tessan read something in Kalan’s expression that made his own face go a little green and he cleared his throat. He looked past Kalan toward his wife, grimaced, and shook his head.

“We don’t know what’s on the data crystal. Not exactly,” Tessan added quickly after another look at Kalan’s face. “No, I’m starting at the wrong place. We are, well, we were intelligence agents for the Zeren Authority. Years ago.”

“But not anymore?” Kalan asked, not even trying to hide his skepticism.

“It’s not the kind of government job you retire from in the traditional sense. You get retired to the afterlife, frequently by someone you thought was a friend. It happens for a lot of reasons, but it's usually because someone decides you know too much or saw something you shouldn’t have.”

“Or because someone higher up in the organization simply doesn’t like you,” Estra added.

“Yes, or that,” Tessan agreed. “Estra and I decided that we didn’t like our long-term options, so we made contingency plans for a less permanent retirement. When the time was right, we came here to this nice, quiet space station. There was enough shipping coming and going that we could make a living and keep an eye on those less official information channels that people like us depend on.”

Kalan sniffed. “Your government didn’t send people to look for you?”

“We made a good show of faking our own deaths,” Estra offered. “It’s ever so convenient for avoiding unwanted attention and daggers in the shadows.”

“This is all very interesting, but I’m still waiting for answers.”

“I’m coming to that,” said Tessan. “To make it work, we needed someone on the inside to keep an eye on things for us. Someone we could trust. Someone we recruited. We just wanted to make sure no one ever flagged our files for investigation.”

“No one caught on?”

“Why would they?” Estra asked. “You get caught for the anomalous things you do. We never asked our inside person to do anything.”

Kalan grunted in acknowledgment before gesturing at Tessan. “Go on.”

“So, our contact has been promoted over the years and eventually found themselves working at a secure facility. They saw something there that frightened them. It frightened them badly enough that they stole the files and passed them on to us.”

“What did they see? What’s on that damnable crystal?”

Tessan shook his head again. “I honestly don’t know. Our contact encrypted the data, although I expect you already know that. We don’t have the key. We never did. Our contact just asked us to pass the information along to someone who’d know what to do with it. That’s where you came in.”

“That’s where I came in. The disposable captain and his disposable crew,” growled Kalan through clenched teeth as he lifted the sword.