Temera Amaluy had a lot of time to think back on that odd, unexpected conversation with Banjin Colle. He wasn’t what she’d expected. He was less implacable than she imagined him to be. When he’d broached the subject of what to do about Kalan Rinn, she thought that they’d be on the same page. It was obvious they needed to kill him. Nothing short of death was going to allow either of them to get what they wanted from that man. When she’d said as much to Colle, though, he had seemed deeply reluctant to even consider the idea. He’d wanted to negotiate with the Bloodhand. Then again, Colle hadn’t fought that supposed freighter captain. He hadn’t witnessed the terrifying skill or brute power that hid behind those youthful features. Colle hadn’t been the one staring up at that awful gray blade or the awful empty eyes of that Bloodhand. If that’s even what he was. She was half-convinced that Rinn was something altogether different. A related species, maybe, but molded by different DNA.

When it had become clear that they had very different notions of how to proceed, Colle had surprised her again. She’d thought he might finally try to kill her then. Instead, he’d risen, given her a formal little bow, and quietly taken his leave. Looking back on the whole experience, she couldn’t help but feel that Colle was on the wrong team. He’d been, well, charming, and polite. She was struggling to reconcile that man with his government. The Zeren Authority was a collection of brutish, bloodthirsty thugs, obsessed with control, and quick with an execution. Colle reminded her of some of the less objectionable nobles in her Queen’s court. Yes, they might be corrupt and a little self-serving, but they held themselves to a certain code of conduct. It was an opaque code at times, but always present in the background, guiding their choices.

She’d found herself wondering more and more during those endless days in the wormhole if Colle might just be susceptible to a better offer. Part of her doubted it. He’d been working for the Zeren Authority for decades now without a hint of disloyalty. Of course, he wouldn’t have survived in the Zeren Authority for decades if there had ever been a hint of disloyalty. An outward display of perfect obedience was likely an ingrained survival instinct. She sighed inwardly. He’d charmed her. That was the problem. She’d been expecting some kind of final, lethal confrontation with the man. Instead, he’d helped her escape from that damnable freighter captain and had a peaceful conversation with her. It had been so counter to her expectations that she was just a little taken with him. If only they’d been on the same wavelength about the Bloodhand. She could not, for the life of her, understand Colle’s reticence to kill that man.

She’d wanted it badly enough that she’d dragged herself out of that sickbed, gone down to the port, and bribed the right people to find out the destination of Rinn’s ship. Then, she’d crawled into her own ship hurting and more than a little furious. All of that to chase him down to some place called Cobalt 7. She hadn’t examined that anger too closely. She worried that she’d discover that it was mostly wounded pride fueling that anger. It was just business. Just cold, hard business. He had the data, and she needed it. That. Was. All. It wasn’t about proving that she was still the best. She wasn’t so petty that she couldn’t handle getting beaten in a fight by some freighter captain. That would be unprofessional and, if Temera Amaluy was anything, she was a professional.

So, she’d professionally set a course for Cobalt 7. Professionally docked at the station. Professionally and discretely confirmed Rinn was there. Professionally hired some local bruisers and was waiting in a very professional ambush to kill that stupid captain. It was all going to plan. Rinn had just left the station quarters of one of his crew. Apparently, Rinn was in the habit of hiring pretty young girls to crew his ship. She could imagine what that was all about. He’d stalked past her hiding place. In a moment, he’d round the corner and find himself in a world of pain. He might have done fine against her, but no way he’d just saunter away from those fools she’d hired. They’d slow him down and then she’d very professionally finish him off. Like a professional. Just doing her job. That. Was. All. She waited until she heard someone crying out in agony. That was her cue. She stepped out of her hiding place, pulled her replacement blaster free, and walked around the corner.

She came nose to nose with Rinn. Everything happened too fast for her to really keep track. One second, she was staring into Rinn’s cold, cold eyes. The next he’d done something to her wrist she couldn’t track, but it made the hand holding the blaster go numb. She thought she remembered hearing the blaster hit the deck, but she wasn’t entirely confident about that later. She tried to punch him, but he slapped that aside with contemptuous ease. She tried a knee strike that he avoided, but it left her balanced on one leg for a brief moment. Rinn capitalized on the moment and swept her leg. As she fell backward through the air, he slammed an elbow into her chest. At least she thought it was an elbow. It might have been a fist. Maybe. As the pain of that blow left her stunned and breathless, she had just enough time to think the same thought she’d had the last time they fought. No one can be that fast. Then, the deck rushed up to meet her.

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There was a flash of white as her head connected with the deck. After her vision cleared and a hazy sense of nausea settled over her, she felt surprised. In her line of work, you don’t generally survive almost losing consciousness that way. She just lay there for a moment, feeling sick, feeling humiliated, and wishing it didn’t feel like someone had just used a mass driver on her sternum. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. Thinking hurt. It had taken him all of three seconds to leave her helpless. Had he just been toying with her last time? Gods, she wondered, was he just toying with me this time? She turned her head a little, fought off a wave of fresh nausea, and saw Rinn standing a few feet away. Well, he wasn’t standing. He was leaning against the corridor wall, his arms crossed, frowning down at her. He didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. In fact, there wasn’t a mark on him. Had those fools she hired run away?

She risked the wrath of an unhappy stomach and lifted her head enough to look down the corridor. There were four limp forms scattered across the corridor. Oddly, that made her feel a little better. She let her head drift back to the deck. There was an angry sort of throbbing that was slowly taking possession of her head. She took a breath and went to roll onto her side.

“Don’t,” said Rinn.

His voice was calm, but there was so much absolute authority in it that she froze in place. She looked over at him again. His expression hadn’t changed. To her eyes, he looked like nothing so much as an annoyed adult trying to decide whether or not he should send a child to bed without an evening meal. Is that how he sees me? Am I nothing more to him than a misbehaving child? She wanted to feel outraged, but that first fight hadn’t been some kind of a fluke. Her attempts on his life probably did seem like the fumbling of some wayward child. She let herself settle back on the floor.

“What now?” She asked.

“I’m trying to decide,” he said. “By rights, I probably should just kill you and be done with it.”

He said it so casually that Temera shivered. She mustered her thoughts and said, “Why haven’t you?”

Rinn made a non-committal motion with one shoulder. He looked up at the corridor ceiling for a brief moment before he answered.

“You have some skill and some talent. I don’t like seeing either of those things wasted. I think you’re probably doing your job, as you see it.” He gave her a hard look. “At least mostly.”

Temera felt her cheeks go red but said. “I’m a professional.”

“There wasn’t much professional about all of this,” he answered, gesturing at the four unconscious bruisers.

Temera clenched her teeth, but that made her head hurt more, which made her nausea worse. She fixed Rinn with a hard look of her own. “Who in the hells are you?”

“Kalan Rinn. Captain of the Ankala Rising.”

“I know that part. How about before that? Where did you get your training? You fight like a Bloodhand.”

As soon as the word escaped her lips, Temera was certain she’d made a deadly error. Cold fury washed over Rinn like a tide that she could feel from across the corridor. Colle had undersold how badly they’d react when Warders Under the Night heard the term. She held her breath as Rinn loomed there in his baleful anger. She watched as he seemed to push that emotion down through a supreme act of self-discipline. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and then fixed her in place with his gaze.

“I’ve decided. Get up.”

She did as she was told. The pounding in her head and the nausea were too much after she stood. She emptied her stomach onto the deck. Rinn waited in patient silence as she got control of herself. She wiped her mouth and then looked at him.

“So, what are you going to do with me?”

He smiled at her then. There was nothing friendly in it. “I’m going to take you with me.”

“You can’t make me talk,” she said.

He didn’t miss a beat. “I could, and you know it. Except, I don’t actually want to know any of your secrets. That’s not why I’m bringing you.”

“Then why?”

“You chased me this far. You’ll just keep chasing me. This way, if someone blows up my ship, at least I know you’ll go with me.”

As Rinn grabbed her arm and started pulling her down the passageway, only one thought crossed Temera’s mind. That’ll teach me for calling him a Bloodhand.