He nods to the number on the coaster. “Girrrrrl,” he purrs. “She pretty. Should enjoy last night before you dying.”
“You pulled it off?”
He sneers, rolling the Rush back and forth across his jagged teeth with a rough pink tongue. “Tell you, Earthboi. Takka people who know people.”
“What’s the deal?”
He lowers his voice to appropriately conspiratorial levels, looks around the bar. “Ice freighter. Passing two thousand LY shy of Aurora FoldGate.”
“Two thousand light-years?” I frown. “What good is that?”
“Closer than now,” Takka shrugs. “Sure with motivation, captain could get closer. Speaking of …” He glances down at my coat, rubs his fingers together. “Paypay.”
“You don’t get paid till I’m on board.” I glower. “And I want to meet this captain of yours before I sign on.”
“Funny. Said same ’bout you.” Takka crunches the Rush between his teeth, shivering. “But Takka not taking Earthboi nowhere without paypay.”
With a sigh, I reach into my coat for the credstick, press my thumb onto the ident sensor to unlock the funds. Takka grabs it with clawed fingers, but I hold tight, staring into his eyes. “Half now. Half if I sign up.”
One ear twitches. “Real distrusting nature, Earthboi.”
“I’m a master criminal, remember?”
Takka sneers, taps his stick to mine for the transfer, and slides off his chair. I follow him through the crowd, out into the station corridors, drawing my hood down around my face. It’s sleep cycle on the station clock, so the lighting is dim, but the transit tube we ride in is still packed, Takka obviously displeased at his crotch-eye view as we’re jammed in like ration packs.
We offload in a quiet section of the docks, spilling out with a group of long-haulers. It’s quieter down here, Takka leading me through the landing bays, chattering about a tip he got on the upcoming heavyweight GMA match, easy paypay, blah blah. But my eyes are on the shadows around me, heartbeat running quicker as I grip the Syldrathi pulse pistol in my coat pocket.
I’m suddenly aware how far from home I am.
Things go bad here, they go bad all the way.
“Which ship is it?” I ask.
“Up here,” the gremp nods. “D Bay.”
A long transparent window of plasteel looks out on the ships berthed below, all models and makes. But there’s a small mountain of freight between us and Bay D. Glancing around, I realize even for late night, this place is awfully quiet. A few loader drones. But no sec patrol or dock crews.
“What’s the ship called?” I ask, scanning a glowing manifest on the wall.
“No name, Earthboi.” Takka looks over his shoulder. “Ident AL-303.”
My heart drops in my chest. Hand tightening on my pistol.
“That’s not an ice freighter. That’s a Legion designation.”
The curve of our corridor straightens out, and I grind to a stop. Behind the dull gray mountain of freight boxes, I catch the edge of a Longbow hull—long, speartip-shaped, gleaming white against the station’s gunmetal skin. And emblazoned down its flank, I see the burning star of the Aurora Legion.
“Freeze.”
The voice comes from behind me, accompanied by the hum of a disruptor rifle. From the weapon’s tone, I can tell it’s set somewhere between Pacify and Kill. Glancing over my shoulder, I see a tall Syldrathi male, silver hair in five braids, sharp violet eyes. He’s wearing a Legion uniform, green stripes on his shoulders tell me he’s a science specialist, the twin circles on his brow denoting one of the Weaver Cabal. The Tank looming beside him is a big Betraskan, broad-shouldered, with dark blue contacts over his eyes.
“Give us an excuse, Jones,” the Tank says. “Please.”
Takka steps aside as more figures emerge from the shadows, each wearing a Legion uniform—Ace, Gearhead, Face—a mix of Betraskan and Terran. Each is armed with a disruptor and a dark scowl. I ease my grip away from my pulse pistol. I can feel the Syldrathi blade that Saedii gifted me still strapped to my forearm, heavy as lead.
I glance at Takka, jaw clenched. “You sold me out.”
“Sorry, old chap.” He takes another bite of Rush, smiling with discolored teeth, his Terran suddenly vastly improved. “Perhaps you should work on that distrusting nature we discussed. Any fool knows Aurora Legion has been looking for your stupid arse in this sector for months.”
“You won’t get the other half of your money.”
“But I get the reward for turning you in.” He grins wider. “No hard feelings, old chap. The Legion just has deeper pockets than you.”
A figure steps from the dark to my left, her aim and stance academy-issue perfect. I see the blue stripes of an Alpha on her uniform, long blond hair drawn back in a smooth tail, deep green eyes and lightly freckled skin.
“We can do this gentle, Jones,” she says. “Or we can do it rough.”
“Cohen.” I smile, raising my hands extra slow. “Long time since graduation. How you been, Em?”
“Shut up, Tyler,” she replies. “Get on your knees.”
“And you do it slow,” the Tank growls behind me. “Or I swear to the Maker, you are never getting back up again.”
I glance back to him. “You’re not still sore about the Draft are you, de Renn? Not my fault I got stuck with Kal, I didn’t really have a choice. Although honestly, you woulda been my third pick anyway.”
“Same old Goldenboy.” Emma steps closer, rifle aimed at my chest. “Almost as full of yourself as your sister.”
“Scar said sorry about your boyfriend, Em, I dunno how many t—”
“You thought you were the smoothest flavor in our whole damned class, Jones. But it’s gonna take more than a cute set of dimples to save you now, you fucking traitor.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You think I’ve got cute dimples, Em?”
Cohen hisses in outrage. Raises the rifle to my face.
“Looks like we do it rough, then.”
BAMF.
• • • • •
It’s the dream that finally wakes me. Dragging me up from the black mire of unconsciousness into a nightmare.
I see it again, just like before—the silver city of Aurora Academy, floating in the light of the Aurora star. It gleams like a jewel in the night, like a lighthouse that old Terran sailors might have used to keep their ships off the rocks that would ruin them.
I reach out toward it. I hear screaming, somewhere distant.
The station blows apart from the inside out, scattering like diamonds across the black velvet of space.
And I realize the screaming is me.
I open my eyes, slowly sit up, the thudding of my pulse only adding to the throbbing in my head. From the stiffness in my muscles, I’d guess I’ve been unconscious maybe twelve hours. Not so bad, really. An Aurora Legion disruptor can knock you out for three days without burying you. Cohen’s rifle must have been set a lot closer to Stun than Kill.
Honestly, she always had a bit of a thing for me.
I recognize where I am immediately. It’s a Legion Longbow, 6-Series, same model as the ship issued to my squad when we set out for Sagan Station, what seems like a thousand years ago. The walls are burnished gray, but a glance toward the light fixtures tells me we’re Folding—there’s usually a slight blue hue to the globes.