Stara shifted in her seat. This was taking too long.

She’d been trying to get off this planet her whole life. Now, finally having a job that promised to show her the galaxy, she was stuck waiting in a rack and ruin speeder in a dirty alley with less-than-friendly companions.

Farnum, a corpulent Fent who dominated their shared bench seat, noticed the movement and gave a cluck of annoyance. “Right,” he said. “It’s been long enough—Vant’s seat-check is up.” With that, he rose and stepped to the front bench. Though flat on the ground, the speeder shook and rattled at his shifting mass.

Miala clutched the pilot controls, lest her tiny body be thrown from the groaning vehicle. “Wha—Farnum!” she squeaked. “You’re going to break everything!” By the time the Fent settled in, Miala’s hands were ablaze with activity, checking every diagnostic she knew.

“Don’t blame our speeder problems on me,” said Farnum. “Last time I saw you working on it, all you did was beat it with a wrench. That was months ago.”

“That’s because I have a full-time job saving our ship from the natural disaster that is your big fat butt!” She snapped at a switch or two, and the speeder’s gentle buzz gave a pitiful whine and died. “If we have to wait, I’ll at least be productive. Move your leg!”

He did so, and she heaved her bag free. “Why’d you come to the front, anyway? Getting territorial?”

Farnum snorted, which is quite an impressive noise when coming from the trunk of a Fent. “A simple volume equation,” he said. “I’m the largest of us, and you’re the smallest. It makes sense that we share a bench while Vant and the Aep share the other.”

“ ‘The Aep’ has a name,” said Stara.

“Excuse me, we weren’t talking to you,” said Miala, with only her round ears visable from behind the open engine hood.

Farnum nodded. “I’m surprised she can hear anything with those tiny ears.”

“Still, rude of her to interrupt.”

“Oh, yes. I agree. We were having such a pleasant chat.”

“Yep. Aeps ruin everything.”

Stara rolled her eyes, which let her catch a glimpse of blue sky. It certainly wasn’t much sky, as the view was dominated by massive buildings and twenty stacked lanes of traffic. She’d be piercing through the atmosphere and into the stars today. Putting up with these two would be worth that, at least.

“You should start with the sound system,” said Farnum. “Then the roof motor in case it rains.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job!” Miala hissed.

“Just saying, some music would be—“ he stopped, then turned around in his seat. “There’s Vant,” he said.

Stara followed his gaze. It was Vant, all right; running as fast as his Wulf legs could take him, straight out of a smoking dive bar.

“Farnum!” Vant yelled. “Get out the big one! Miala, we’re leaving quick!”

A number of Rets came coughing out of the bar after him. After a few lungfuls of fresh air, they drew blasters and aimed.

A massive hand pushed Stara into cover behind the seat. “Move it! Get down!” roared Farnum, tumbling over to get in the back again.

The unmistakable sound of blaster fire erupted from down the alley. Stara chanced a look.

The Rets were firing with reckless abandon, sending red streaks of energy whizzing by Vant. Most missed and made little burning pocks in the pavement and walls. One caught him in the shoulder, but not directly enough to break through the armor plates in his jacket. Nevertheless, he stopped running in favor of diving behind a pile of refuse. He rubbed his shoulder. “Anytime, Farnum!”

Farnum had opened the back storage and produced a massive, glistening black horror of a blaster. Half a second of spooling hum later and a sustained staccato of golden pulses spewed from its barrel down the alley.

Beady eyes gone wide, the Rets broke for cover until not even a skinny tail was in sight. Farnum kept up the suppressing fire while Vant dashed for the speeder and leapt in. “Miss me?” beamed Vant.

“You piece of…” Miala was back behind the pilot controls and prepping the engine up. “I should’ve known you were up to something when you invited us all out—‘Hey, lets all stop for some sugarfrost before we take off! Oh, just one little errand to run first.’—You’re a horrible person.” Her round ears twitched in frustration.

“To be fair, it was supposed to just be an errand,” said Vant, hand on his chest to denote blamelessness. “But then they tried to charge triple the price! I had to show them that I was a dissatisfied customer somehow, so I started a little fire. Not my fault the interior was so dry and flammable. They were a bunch of jerks, anyway.” He produced a small datadisc. “Plus, I got what I wanted for the low-low price of one thermaflash!”

The speeder lurched off the ground and flew away. Farnum eased off the trigger after the first corner, leaving the alley a scorched mess. He gave a sigh. “You won’t be satisfied until you kill us all.” Vant just looked back and grinned with pointed teeth.

“I suppose the sugarfrost is out of the question?” asked Miala.

“It’ll have to wait until we get to our destination,” said Vant, stowing the datadisc.

“And where’s that?”

“…Capallus.”

“The capital? But that’s two weeks away!” Miala started striking him with a tiny fist of fury. “Vant! I was going to get quamberry! You ruin everything!”

“Hands on the controls! Sooner we leave, sooner you can get whatever flavor you want. That in mind…” Vant pulled out a comlink. “Beta-9, we’re leaving Iyan. Get the engines running. Acknowledge.” There was no answer. “Beta-9?”

No one seemed to notice how uncomfortable their destination was making Stara. She squirmed to turn her back to the rest so she could gather her thoughts. Of all the inhabited places in the galaxy, Capallus was last place she wanted to go. It was still better than here on Iyan, but not by much.

She blinked. Through the diacrete grey of the metropolis she could see three zipsters following them, two angry Rets on each. “Vant? If you’re having trouble getting through to the ship, it’s because they’re on our tails and jamming us.”

Vant cursed. Farnum hefted his blaster and leveled it on the back of the speeder. “Is it alright for an Aep to say ‘on our tails’? I’m not sure if I should be offended.”

“Don’t shoot,” ordered Vant. Then to Miala, “Try to lose them in the traffic.”

Increasing speed, Miala pulled up on the controls to merge with the nondescript weave of speeders when several red slashes of energy crackled over their heads. The bolts struck several speeders, startling their pilots and making them swerve in a frantic scattering. The Rets kept up the fire from the backs of their zipsters.

Vant cursed again. “Change of plan; we keep them from shooting bystanders! Dive lower. Farnum—make them think twice about gaining on us, but watch your shots!”

Farnum toggled a switch and aimed carefully. “These Rets are usually all business,” he said over the sound of rushing air and blasters. “What did you do to make them so mad?”

A bolt struck the door next to Miala. “I’m sure he was just his usual charming self,” she grunted.

Vant opened a small compartment under the dash and took out a blaster. “Stara! I’m gonna take a few shots. Switch seats with me.”

Stara ducked under another red streak. “Just give me the blaster! You don’t think I can shoot?”

“Not as good as me. Ready?” They kept low but moved onto their haunches. “Now!”

“Whoa, hold on!” cried Miala, who had to swerve to avoid the sudden appearance of a pilot who was also bypassing the traffic lanes. Stara was only barely aware of a change in inertia when the sky abruptly dominated her vision, and she felt that upside-down sinking feeling of impending weightlessness.

Pain erupted in her arm as Vant’s claws dug into her. With a solid yank she came back into the speeder and slammed into an embrace with him. “Always keep your feet under you,” said Vant. “We’ll call that ‘Rule One’.”

“I… alright.”

They finished the maneuver and Vant started taking shots in tandem with Farnum. The Rets kept their distance from the coordinated defense.

“We should be safe once we get to the ship, right?” asked Miala.

“No,” said Vant. “They’ll tag it and send their own ships after us. We’d be shooting our way out of the system.”

Farnum groaned. “So these aren’t your usual crime-family Rets, huh? Well, shooting at them isn’t working, thanks to Mi’s piloting.”

“Hey! We’re still in the air, aren’t we? Shut up!”

Stara just finished catching her breath. “Their zipsters are commercial. I don’t think they have much ion shielding,” she said.

“Good thinking,” said Vant. “Miala, got anything we could use?”

“Oh, yes, lots of stuff. I always bring ion charges on leisurely trips to get sugarfrost!”

“What about the speeder?” asked Farnum. “Half the systems don’t work. Could you make something if you cannibalize them for parts?”

Miala tapped her finger on the controls, begrudgingly giving the idea thought. “Maybe…. Yeah, probably. Can we ask the Rets to pull over and give me five minutes? …Didn’t think so.” She reached into her bag a grabbed a lightcutter. “Okay, Miss Aep, keep it steady or I swear I will—“

“Miala…” cautioned Vant. “Be nice.”

She gave him a sidelong glance and flicked the lightcutter on, using the glowing implement to silently make a threatening gesture at Stara. They scooted into new positions, Stara at the controls and Miala clutching the top of the windshield, cutting through the hinges that held the hood on. “Be ready to duck!” she warned, making the final cut.

With a clank and a whoosh, the hood came tumbling above their heads and fell end over end behind them. Miala slung her bag over her shoulder and crawled out onto the humming engine. “ ‘Let’s get some sugarfrost, Miala’,” she muttered to herself. “ ‘Get to know the new girl. What’s that? Proper tools? A repulser-chute? You won’t need those! We’re just getting sugarfrost!’ ” Her tail waved wildly in the wind.

Stara felt it was better to just let her vent. “Should we be worried about enforcers?” she asked behind her.

“Always,” said Vant. “But they don’t come around here very often. It’s a bad neighborhood, you see.”

“Getting worse all the time,” said Farnum, firing.

“We’ll be fine if they do come,” Vant continued. “Beta-9 knows where to deliver the datadisc. I’ll just hand it to you if need be, Stara. Then you and 9 can hang it over the buyer’s head until he pays for our release.”

Stara tensed. “Hang on,” she snapped. “You really think that just because I’m an Aep they won’t search me? Detain me? That’s such a—“

“I know who your father is, pup.”

Stara suddenly felt cold. “You…”

Vant waved a hand. “We can have that discussion later,” he said. “How’s it coming, Miala?”

She was climbing back into the speeder. “I got what I need,” she breathed. “Just another minute.” She dumped the contents of her bag onto the seat. Her hands became a blur of wires, transistors, power sources and duct tape. Before long she held up a misshapen mess of a device. “This’ll do it,” she said. “But I can’t guarantee the blast radius. We’ll need to get them close together, if we can.”

“I’m on it,” said Stara. The speeder nose-dived and banked, hard enough to make the other passengers yelp in surprise.

“Stara!” cried Miala. “I almost lost the charge!”

Stara smiled. “That’s the first time you called me by my name.”

They flew into a service tunnel, the unhooded engine noise echoing off the narrow walls. The tight space and blurred passing of lights made everyone very aware of how fast they were going. In seconds, the three zipsters followed them in, flying a tight formation. There was barely a glimpse of them before the tunnel veered and they lost sight.

“Humph!” exclaimed Farnum. “I’d be able to shoot them now if this tunnel was straight!”

“And they’d be able to shoot us,” said Vant. “Good thinking, pup. Sure you can handle this?”

“I’m fine,” said Stara.

“Then…” He held up his hand. “If you please, Miala.”

She handed him the charge. “Just push the button and drop—I have it set up to be a proxy.”

“Oh, thank the stars!” said Vant. “I was afraid I’d have to time it.” With that, he simply pushed the button and dropped it.

“Thought you’d appreciate that,” said Miala. “Not like we use the autonav, let alone the rangefi—“

Like an iron gong in water, the sound of the ion charge rung through the tunnel.

“Ahhh!” sighed Farnum. “That sounded good.”

“Keep your blaster leveled at the back. Nice work, Miala. Stara, I think you can slow down a bit. We’ll pick them off if the charge didn’t get them all.” Vant pulled out his comlink. “Should know soon enough.” After a few seconds, he spoke into it. “Beta-9? You there?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

There was a hiss of static, followed by: “Here, captain. How can I serve you?”

The whole speeder smiled. “Get the engines warmed up, then lower the ramp. We’ll be there in a few.”

“Yes, sir.”

They weren’t bothered the rest of the ride over. Miala took over piloting to no protest, leaving Stara to look out at the city she’d be leaving. The adrenaline of being shot at waned with each passing building until a quiet numbness overcame her. As they descended into a semi-private hanger, however, small tingles of excitement rattled again in Stara’s chest. The Albatross had come into view.

It was an average freighter, right at that size where it could easily take cargo planet-side and leave again without needing prohibitively expensive engines. The thrusters had that warm, subtle glow that showed there’d been a vast amount of time since they were properly serviced. The hull was that inimitable beige color that is unpainted therrosteel, at least where it wasn’t discolored from past laserfire, patchwork or erosion. In short, it wasn’t much to look at.

But it was more than enough to get her out of here.

Miala guided the speeder inside. Once settled, the engines whined until, just before stopping, they gave a terrible clank.

Beta-9, an upright, uptight Mechan whose joints had never been properly lubricated since he was first switched on, waddled into the cargo bay to meet them. “Welcome back, every—oh dear, what did they put in that sugarfrost?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle, 9,” said Farnum, rolling out of the speeder.

“Everything ready for us to go?” asked Vant.

“Yes, sir,” said Beta-9.

“Good.” Vant touched Stara on the shoulder. “We’ll talk once we’re in Pleatspace. Have Miala show you to your room. Come on, Farnum.” He and the Fent left down a corridor. Stara took a minute to catch her breath.

“Quite a ride, huh?” said Miala.

“I suppose.”

“C’mon, Aep,” said the Maus, hauling her bag out of the speeder. “We’re this way. Carry on, Beta-9.”

“Of course, Miala,” said the Mechan.

She led Stara around a corner and through a door. Before them laid a cozy room, twin bunkbeds fitted nicely into wall. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she said, picking up a few things. “It’s always been just me in here. We could probably get you your own room, but most of the ship is for cargo or storage. That, and this is the only free bed we have. Yours is the top bunk.”

The ship shuddered and a slight woozy feeling came over them.

“That’s us taking off, right?” asked Stara.

Miala nodded.

“Is there a window?”

A hint of a smile crossed Miala’s lips. “Yeah, just over here.” She walked to the back of the room and pressed a button. A surprisingly loud motor stumbled into action and drew back the corner of the wall, revealing the diminishing buildingtops of the city through dirty glass.

Stara walked to the window and steadied herself. So much of her life was in the city below. She knew she’d spent years there—experienced happiness, sadness, fear, love, anger—yet no one memory stood out. The buildings gave way to a haze of metropolis, then the metropolis gave way to the haze of a continent. It was all just there, her shifting nexus of emotion, cut into the shape of a planet. And it was all falling away, smaller and smaller, until only she remained.

And now, she thought, now she could live.

There was a soft wail from the ship, a dashing halt that stretched everything in her vision, and then the gentle hum of the Pleatdrive. Iyan was no longer in sight. The view out the back had become nothing but a whirling blanket of Starmyst.

She stayed there, a blank expression on her face, for longer than she could’ve guessed. When she turned around Miala had gone, and the room’s mess was now all shoved into a corner. Stara smiled and left the room.

The ship wasn’t terribly big, but there was a deceptive amount of area to wander around inside. After passing by what seemed like the same bulkhead three times, she came across Vant and Farnum in a lounge.

The boys were at a glowing circular table, with a similar glowing circle above it. In the space between was a large, green holocube formed out of a thousand smaller cubes. Vant and Farnum sat opposite each other, taking turns moving small symbols around the space with controls on the sides of the table.

“Hello, Stara,” said Vant, not looking away from the game. “Get settled alright?” She walked up to them. “Do you play?”

“No,” said Stara. “I never learned Koe.”

“You should start,” said Farnum. “It’d be nice for Vant to have someone to beat.”

“Could you give us a minute, Farnum? We can finish this another time.”

Farnum pretended to be mildly offended at being told to shove off, and left. Stara took his seat.

“If not Koe, then how about Jahf?” asked Vant.

She shrugged. “It’s been a while, but I can manage.”

With the press of a button the holocube disappeared. Vant started fiddling with the controls to bring up another game. “Actually,” he said. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Reaching behind, he opened a hatch and pulled out a box. Setting it down caused the contents to rattle. “White or black?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Before long, the eight by eight board and all its pieces were set up. “You try to maneuver your pieces so that the enemy’s lord can’t escape. You remember how each piece moves?”

She nodded, and they began.

After a few moves, it became apparent to her that he wouldn’t bring up the subject. “So, about my father….”

“What about him?”

She started to say something, then decided on a different approach. “Why did you hire me?”

“It had nothing to do with your family.”

“You understand that I can’t really trust that?”

Vant moved a piece. “Check,” he said. Stara just stared at the board, shoulders slumped. “Look, I don’t want to get involved with Glass Dune or their politics, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to either—that’s why you tried hiding your identity, right? So what’s the problem?”

“But if you knew who I was when you hired me, then I have to worry about—“

“Of course I knew who you were. I had to check and be sure you weren’t an undercover enforcer or out for some kind of vengeance on me or the others. Finding that you weren’t was all that mattered. What, you worried I’ll try to use you to get to your father? That’d be the dumbest thing I could do.” He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking about how to proceed.

“Listen…” he continued. “Farnum used to be a bodyguard for one of your family’s rival syndicates. He left knowing a few things they wouldn’t want him to know. And Miala—well, you can ask her the specifics sometime, but suffice it to say that she had to hurt a lot of people to survive to today. We all have pasts, and I’m telling you it doesn’t matter.

“I hired you because you’re smart and—much more importantly—you’re willing to learn. That matters so much more than anything in your past. In fact, forget what I said earlier; that’s Rule One. Always be ready to learn.”

The words hung in the air for a while. Eventually Stara looked up. “You’ll checkmate my lord in four moves.”

Vant grinned. “And what did you learn?”

She tossed her lord piece to him with half a smile. “Never to play you in Jahf.”

“Or maybe to pay attention to the game next time!” He started putting the game pieces and board back in the box, but lingered on the lord piece. “We won’t get to Capallus for about two weeks. Learn what you can about the ship. See if Farnum and Miala won’t mind letting you look over their shoulders as they do some work. Off you go.”

Stara stood and stepped towards the door, then turned. “You know Glass Dune has a large presence in Capallus, right? It’s been a month since I went off the grid, so…”

“We’re just stopping long enough to make the trade. Maybe get some sugarfrost. We’ll be careful.”

She nodded and left, not noticing that he didn’t put the lord piece away with the rest.

The trip was fun for Stara. The crew ate most meals together, which helped her get closer to everyone. She started out by handing tools to Miala during her frequent repair spurts throughout the ship, eventually getting permission to, under close supervision, tighten a gasket with a wrench once. Farnum was only too happy to pontificate about the virtues of blaster maintenance, often equating good weapon care to good life skills in general. Beta-9 turned out to be a pleasant conversationalist and was often very helpful, in a doddering sort of way. She played several other games with Vant, mostly card games that had a lot to do with bluffing. They didn’t play another game of Jahf, but she did learn Koe, and was becoming quite adept.

One day the ship made a small beeping sound as they were eating lunch. “We’re nearing Capallus,” said Vant.

They made their way to the cockpit of the ship, Vant and Farnum in the front pilots’ seats and Miala and Stara just behind them. Vant put his hand on a large switch and slowly pulled back. The veil of Starmyst disappeared, and before them was Capallus, a planet whose surface was nothing but one unbroken city.

“What a view,” said Stara.

Farnum harrumphed. “It gets old.”

It did get old. After waiting in a line for three hours, a small chirp came from the console. Vant answered it.

It was a female on the other end. “Private freighter Albatross, this is Lieutenant Styga of the Imperial dreadnought Bastion. Our records show you don’t have an active Free Trade license with Capallus. Please state your business. Over.”

“This is Vant Creedo of the Albatross. I have private business to attend to. This visit is purely personal. Over.”

“Understood, Albatross. We’ll need you to submit to a routine search and customs assessment. Any objections? Over.”

“I do object, Bastion.” Vant changed his accent to and annoying bastardization of the upper-class. “I have private business with Magnetar Fierdan that cannot brook any further delay. Over.”

The other end was silent for several seconds. “…Maintain position, Albatross. You’ll be receiving a video call soon. Out.”

Vant rolled his eyes. “You see,” he said to the rest of the cockpit, “they don’t think a rickety old ship like mine could have any business with anyone in the government, let alone a Magnetar. Now they’re going to check and see if I’m even an Aep before deciding how harshly to reject me.”

“So much politics,” said Miala.

“It is the capital of the Empire,” said Farnum.

“Politics ruin everything. I bet all the planet’s sugarfrost will have melted by the time we get this sorted out.”

Vant laughed. “Don’t worry. One call will get us through. I just want to see how they dance first.”

“Is anyone else worried that we’re trying our luck with that?” Stara pointed to the top-of-the-line dreadnought hovering immovably against the backdrop of Capallus. Every inch of its oversized hull was efficiently used, either by lasercannons, turboculverins, exoarmor, shield generators, sensor modules, or a host of other ingenious Imperial innovations.

A blipping noise came from the vidscreen. “Excuse me, Stara,” said Vant, adjusting his chair back. He pushed a button. “Hello, Bastion,” he beamed.

The image of a male, middle-aged Aep in an Imperial uniform appeared. Upon seeing Vant, or rather upon seeing that Vant was a Wulf, he stopped hiding his annoyance. “Albatross, your clumsy attempt to enter Capallus illegally has put you on a Naval watch list. You must now—“

“I am here to see Magnetar Fierdan. I’m expected, if not very anticipated.”

The Aep’s eyes narrowed. “Well then, why don’t you have him give us a call? Until then, if your ship makes any move other than turning around and leaving, we’ll blow it out of the sky.” The vidscreen flickered off.

Vant moved his hands back and forth as though to brush them clean. “Back in a second,” he said, leaving the cockpit.

Stara waited until the tip of his tail was out of sight, and then some. “We were waiting for hours,” she said. “Why didn’t he call earlier?”

“That’s the part of his personality that causes him to be run out of bars while being shot at,” said Miala.

“Happens often, does it?”

Farnum slouched in his seat. “They don’t usually keep chasing once my blaster comes out. That datadisc must have some major mojo on it.”

“I don’t think a Magnetar would be interested if it was just some—“

“We should be good,” said Vant, entering.

“That was fast,” said Stara.

“He’s very excited,” smiled Vant. “Promised he’d read them the riot act for saying they’d fire on us, too.”

Another minute and the console beeped again. “Albatross, this is Lieutenant Styga of the Imperial dreadnought Bastion. You—“

“Hello, lieutenant,” said Vant, not waiting for protocol. “Good news I hope?”

“Um, yes. You’re clear to land.”

“That’s fantastic. By the by, I never got the name of the chap I chatted with on the vidcom.” Vant gave a wink to Farnum.

“Ah, that was…” A brief flicker of static cut her off. “…Confidential. He’d have introduced himself otherwise.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” soothed Vant. “Tell him I’ll remember his face. Out.” He pushed some buttons and they flew down to Capallus.

Magnetar Fierdan’s estate was just on the sunset edge of the planet when they got there, twilight giving the manor a soft aura of shadow over the city below. Leading from the manor proper was a twin line of lights and a private landing pad.

By the time the loading ramp gently lurched onto the ground, a party had come out to meet them, led by the Magnetar. Fierdan was a tall Aep, dressed in understated finery, and had a knack for somehow making people feel comfortable in his overbearing presence, like how asphyxiation calms the nerves. He was followed by half a dozen houseguards, dressed in full armor. Behind them was a Mechan who pushed a hoverdolly with several cases loaded atop it.

Fierdan grinned from ear to ear at each of the four of them. “You must be Creedo! Nice to put a face with the voice.”

Vant met his grin with equal intensity. “A pleasure. And thanks for your help with the welcome party. We’ll have that officer fearing for his job for weeks.”

“Happy to do it, happy to do it. I dislike anyone who would burn a bridge before knowing for certain where it goes. Shows a lack of foresight.”

“I agree.” Vant pulled out the datadisc. “And imagine all the rivers you can cross with this.” He tossed it to him.

Fierdan snapped it out of the air. “Indeed.” He eyed it. “Zeta-4? Verify, please.”

The Mechan strode dutifully up to its master, who inserted the datadisc into an open port. Zeta-4’s processors clicked and whistled until he finally said, “Verified, sir.”

“Excellent! That gets you a third of your payment, Creedo.” Fierdan’s smile went wider. Then, slowly, he turned his eyes to Stara. “And this gets you the rest of it, yes?”

Stara blinked. “The rest…? What’s he—“ Vant’s hand clutched her shoulder. “No…. You’re not…”

The Wulf looked at her through the corner of his eye. “Don’t make this hard, Stara.” Then, to the Magnetar. “I present Riyal Jaxo, daughter of Hogar Jaxo.”

“Oh, you son of—“ Stara tried to free herself, but Farnum put a hand on her other shoulder.

Fierdan almost squealed in glee. “Fantastic! Guards, take her off their hands.” With footsteps in unison, two guards moved and grabbed Stara. “Well done, Mr. Creedo! You’ve earned your payment.” He motioned to the hoverdolly. “Every case filled with gold! You won’t insult me if you feel the need to check.”

“That shouldn’t be necessary,” said Vant. “You wouldn’t burn the bridge of someone so useful, would you?” He signaled Farnum to get the payment. Farnum pushed it to the loading ramp, carefully keeping his head down and away from Stara.

“Ah, I’m glad to be working with someone who understands! For that, you can keep the dolly, too.”

“My associate’s back thanks you.” Vant returned his gaze to Stara and undid his smile.

Stara held his stare, her mind screaming just behind her eyes. Vant didn’t flinch. The more she looked at his hard, calculating face, the more her stomach felt knotted, her heart felt shriveled and her soul felt dead. Unable to bear it any longer, she looked away. Chin up, jaw clenched, she knew the only satisfying act of defiance left was to not let them see her cry.

“Not at all, not at all,” said Fierdan.

“I suppose we’ll take our leave, now,” said Vant. “It’s high time my ship got some proper repairs.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” said Miala.

“I’ll be in touch if I need you again!” Fierdan was beside himself. “Come along, Ms. Jaxo! Have you eaten yet? I was just about to sit down to kweff o ba rall. My chef makes it best in the Empire!”

As her feet only barely touched the ground, Stara just rolled her eyes as she was carried away. “What are you planning on doing with me, Magnetar? Not ransom, surely.”

His face took on a devilish grin. “It all depends, my dear. If everything works perfectly, I’ll bend your father’s sect of Glass Dune to my will. If not, I’ll likely remove your memories of your time here with pharmaceutics and frame your absence on a rival, earning a favor from your father. I have options.”

She didn’t have any further interest in anything he had to say, and she tuned him out.

After an admittedly spectacular meal, Stara was escorted to an interior bedroom. A cell, for all intents and purposes. It was lavishly furnished, but the sole reminder of the outside universe was a skylight, so high that the piece of sky it showed only had five stars.

She knew this was temporary. She was smart. She could get out of here. She could make her way back through the sky. She could—

One by one, tears flowed down her face. She had it. She had the galaxy before her. She had a life free of her past. She had it, right there, as good as she dreamed, and now….

Eventually, the tears stopped. She found herself lying on the bed, too tense to sleep. She must have been there for hours. She worked on her breathing, the one bit of control she had left. Inhale, exhale. Her stomach rose and fell. The sound of air moving was all she focused on. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Something was off.

She opened her eyes to the low light. Something was beeping—softly, but there. Her hands patted down her pockets. There was something in her jacket. The guards had done a sweep for anything of import, though.

She reached in, feeling something small and hard. She pulled it out and stared at it, bewildered. It was the lord piece from her first game of Jahf with Vant. It was beeping.

Another sound came—scratching. She looked around the room, only to finally realize it was coming from above her. There was someone on the skylight. No, there was someone through the skylight, and descending. The figure was lowered by a cable from outside.

“You!” Stara hissed.

“Me,” said Vant.

“Why did—Are you—Why are—You… you…”

He held up a hand. “How about I talk?

“First of all, it was a rotten thing, what I did to you; sending you in here without knowing we’d be back for you. I admit that. Had to be done, though. I’ve played enough games with you to know you can’t sell a look to save your life, and the betrayal had to be genuine in your eyes, or else Fierdan would’ve been a lot more careful.

“Second, you don’t need to worry about Fierdan. His enemies are circling, and if he uses that data he bought it’ll be exactly the reason they need to strike. Poor sod only got the promotion because of a feud between two other Pulsars in his sector. Set up to fail, actually. Very sad if he wasn’t such an idiot.

“Third, I understand if you don’t want to travel with us after what we did to you. If you want, we’ll drop you off at our next destination with your share of the payment, and you’ll never have to see us again. I… really hope you decide to stay, though. I never lied about why I hired you, and I always planned on rescuing you. If I wasn’t interested, I’d have just sedated you, dropped you off and been done with it.” He tapped a finger on the cable. “Sorry, that didn’t sound very good, did it? Um…”

Stara had her arms folded. Her eyes burned through him. “…And?”

“And what?”

“Are you going to say you’re sorry?”

Vant clenched his jaw. “I’m sorry, Stara.”

“And you’re a stupid jerk?”

He nodded. “I suppose I am.”

“…And it’s not going to happen again?”

He raised his brow. “Does that mean you’ll stay with us?” Stara was quiet. “I promise, Stara. It won’t happen again.” She stayed quiet.

Vant looked around, a bit nervous. “Now, we can’t keep the security system fooled forever, and Miala might just decide to cut the cable and leave us to get her sugarfrost, so the quicker you decide whether or not to come along, the better. You should never get between Miala and her sweets. I think she’s an addict waiting to happen, actually. Regardless, never cause a lady distress. That’s, like…“

“Rule One?” said Stara.

Vant blinked, then smiled in understanding. “Sure. That’s Rule One.” He held out his hand. “Are you coming?”

Stara smiled and took his hand.

They ascended together. As they neared the skylight, the night sky opened to fifty stars, then a hundred more, then another thousand, until—finally—they became countless.