Considering what had happened on Mythellion, I almost felt like I should miss the over-humid hallways of the third Orbital station. That said, returning to Mythellion III hadn't done anything to calm my nerves.

With how much had happened since I last slept, it was easy to forget that we'd gone down to Mythellion for a reason. We went to get armed, and I was coming back with a motley selection of weapons which either sucked or were untested. At least the hardlight harpoon was useful against kinetic dampeners, as was the Basking.

If it worked.

Now I was just barely armed and back on the station where I knew at least two Fotuans were hunting us, probably pissed that I'd killed one of their friends and left him for OpSec to find.

It was at least a blessing that Victoria and I could keep relatively safe by staying in public spaces for the time being. When there had been three of them just trying to get to Victoria, bystanders wouldn't have done anything, but now that they knew I was armed and dangerous, it was unlikely that the Fotuans would try anything with people around.

The only thing tarnishing that blessing was that staying in public spaces was easier said than done on Mythellion III. When the GCA had built it several years back before moving it into orbit, they'd made it to accommodate the eventual population of Ottinio living above-world. Larger, established stations were miles and miles of crowded tunnels with slums stapled onto them. Much of Mythellion III was still gleaming, with barely anyone living on certain floors.

Ottinio weren't allowed to live on GCA stations yet, and there were only two businesses on Mythellion, regulating travel, and breaking travel regulations. Neither of those job markets could sustain a population.

All of those factors came together to ensure that, aside from the public docks, Victoria and I were limited to circuitous routes around the station that took way too much planning.

There had been two options once we made it back to the station; the first was running straight for one of our ships and trying to get off the station as soon as possible, but that ignored the logistics of trying to get two ships off the station as opposed to leaving one behind. The second plan was to spend a touch of time on the station and ensure that we blended into the scenery and could slip off the station on my ship.

With any luck, they only knew that Victoria wasn't alone, not that she had hired me specifically to protect her, which meant my ID leaving the station wouldn't set them after us. As for Victoria's ship...

Well, she'd assured me that it wasn't traceable, but she'd also assured me that her paperwork would get her onto Mythellion and now several dozen Anteraxi thought she was my daughter.

Ultimately, we were asking for way too much to go off without a hitch, and I'd been around long enough to know that 'all according to plan' was a myth. So, for right now, we were taking plan 2 rather slow, and I was leaning on a favor.

"Ya look like shit," Dvall opened as I did my best not to jump at her sudden arrival. She'd slipped into the spot beside me, leaning against the railing without me noticing her in the crowd. "Rough time planetside?"

"Yinde's an asshole," I explained as I turned to face Dvall; she wrapped her opalescent tail around the railing, and she'd gotten her cheek scars replaced with synth skin.

Dvall regarded me for a moment, her wide, snakelike eyes focusing in before she frowned at me, and crossed her arms, the mechanical one falling in behind the natural. That wasn't a natural Ovishir piece of body language, but she'd travelled with me long enough to pick it, and a half dozen human insults up. "He's dead, ain't he?" she asked after reading my expression.

"Mhm."

"Can't send ya fuckin' anywhere," she hissed, almost literally; some Ovishir had forked tongues, but she didn't. "Didja get what ya needed?"

"No."

"How do you survive alone out here?" she asked; it was honestly a valid question.

"I'm a good shot."

"Fuck you are," Dvall protested, "you stopped lettin' me win years ago," she turned toward me, dropping our over-casual matched leans, "and I ain't lost since."

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I chuckled. She was right again, I had let her win for years until suddenly, I wasn't able to hit all the shots she could at range. There was a lesson there about building up people's confidence.

"You're scrappy, though, I'll give you that."

"How generous," I reached into the pocket of my jacket and pulled out a plastic bottle I'd filled before saying goodbye to Musc at the bar and offered it to her. "Here."

"What's this?" she asked, grabbing it and taking the cap off with her mechanical hand, fingers bending unnaturally to accommodate completing the entire action with just the one.

"Local Ottinio drink," I explained, "apparently they drink it at different temperatures during different holidays."

Dvall gave the drink a cautious sniff before sneering at it and putting the cap back on.

"It's actually decent."

Dvall pulled the drink back up to consider it again but didn't answer, likely split between wanting to throw another jab at me and needing to admit that she'd enjoyed any drinks I mixed during our time together.

"What's got you here so early?"

"S'Vennitah-"

"The Dick."

Dvall didn't acknowledge my comment, "S'Vennitah pre-registered the ship for docking, didn't know they'd done that."

"You took the Coven Dutchess here, right?" It was Dvall's ship, and I was using the loosely translated name.

"Yessir."

"Why'd they have the codes then?" I asked. Dvall shook her head, and notably, her tail unwound from the railing and came down in front of her legs. "Dvall?"

"S'Vennitah's been on the ship for a while."

"Wh- How long?"

"Couple months."

How was she really trusting him again? Was she just going to keep giving him chances unt- I took half a deep breath, trying to keep it shallow enough that she didn't notice, "That's a long time."

"Guess so, least in the business."

"I think anything more than a job is a long time."

"Well," Dvall didn't sigh, that wasn't Ovishir body language, but I understood that it was there, "ain't cut out to be 'lone."

Nobody needed to say the quiet part out loud. 'And you weren't an option.'

I took a deep breath and looked back at the store that Victoria had hopped into when I was meeting Dvall; she was tall enough that I could see her in the back, as long as she was in sight in a public place, we were fine.

Dvall uncapped the bottle I'd given her again, taking a small sip and adding a small affirmative chirp as a review. She took her time putting everything away before speaking up, "So, you're escortin' someone."

I nodded.

"They in their ship?"

"No."

"You're watching right now, ain't ya?"

"Mhm."

Dvall didn't follow my eyes and try to figure out who it was, respecting that she wasn't involved in this conversion for a reason. "What'd ya need?"

"Need your help with a ship."

"Stealin' it?" She sounded a little too excited.

"Isn't stealing if I have the codes, is it?" I pulled a small chip out of my pocket. Victoria had, reluctantly, given me a copy of the launch codes for her ship.

Dvall hissed then grabbed the chip, "So I'm just takin' the thing for ya."

"Undocking it."

"And then?"

"I'll swing around with Gunboat Diplomat and-"

"You still ain't gotten that thing renamed?"

"It's just a name, and that costs money." She was right, though; in theory, the Diplomat should have been part of my branding. Instead, it was still wearing the same registration from its days as a human service vessel.

"So you tow the ship and I…."

"Take a taxi?"

A taxi?"

"Yes."

"If you already have the keys," Dvall started, "why don' you take the ship, I can fly the-"

"No."

Dvall deflated, "I miss that ship."

"Unfortunately, that one," I pointed at the chip in her hand, "is the one that needs someone other than me or the girl undocking it."

"A girl, Kingston?" Dvall let her tail fall back behind her, "I can't believe ya."

I wasn't about to justify that with a response.

"Sure thing though," she wrapped her hand around the chip and nodded to me, "sorry y'ain't stickin' around longer on the station, though. Woulda been nice to catch up when one us ain't on work hours."

"Job should buy me a bit of free time."

"That's good. Stay safe though."

"Stay safe?"

"Big-money jobs are dangerous. Someone told me that once."

"Sounds like a smart guy."

"Nah, he's an asshole."

"You're riding with S'Vennitah."

I didn't get a verbal response to that, only a glare.

"I'll lay off."

"Ya will if you know what's good for ya," Dvall pushed off the bar and slipped the code chip into the pocket of her flight suit, "at least ya mental health."

"You're not worried about my mental health."

"I shouldn't be," she took a deep breath and then waved with one hand, "see 'ya 'round, Kingston. Talk soon."

"Talk soon."

I waited until she was well out of earshot to start tapping my foot and sigh. Why was that so hard? All we needed was one good conversation when we weren't asking the other for help. We just-

No. We needed a lot more than that. Even then, we weren't going back.

Fuck.

A message on my PA popped up from Dvall, telling me to let her know when we were ready for takeoff, and whatever came with it. I got back to her, but getting to Victoria's ship would take a while.

At least now, it would show up under Dvall's name and not Victoria's when it left the station. It should give us time to get out into the black and out of sight.

I had to do the napkin math and figure out how long I had after this job as time off. I had to come back here and meet Dvall, or head wherever she was at that point. Owed her that much.

Victoria looked over the crowd to me from within the store. I gave her a nod back. It was time to get off this station and get her to Fotul.