Fuck. Fuck fucking fuck.

The final checks on the boat hadn’t taken long enough for Inrit’s mind to clear, which left her with too many thoughts, fears, and predictions. Max had been right when he pointed out that their ship wasn’t a particularly lucrative catch. Most pirates wouldn’t care, so long as Morvellan and his crew weren’t a threat.

The second they gave a pirate ship, or worse, a pirate fleet a hint of danger, they’d be blown to pieces and left to freeze in the vacuum of space. It was an ending Inrit had resigned herself to a long time ago, but now that Max was by her side, she’d do anything to protect him from that fate.

From the ship, there wasn’t anything she could do that wouldn’t put everyone further at risk. There were a lot of pirates out there who owed her a lot of favors. Unfortunately, even more wanted to kill her, and a pirate’s word wasn’t worth the shit it was promised on.

So instead of doing anything concrete, Inrit spent several hours planning. She wasn’t about to let the threat of pirates ruin her day with Max, and she certainly wasn’t going to let them destroy her life again. She’d worked too hard. She never once questioned her instinct to keep the information from the captain. He ran the ship competently, but she’d barely spent more than fifteen minutes with him, and that included dinners with the entire crew.

He was too unknown. For all she knew, he’d command them all to hunt down the pirates and attack them first. Then Inrit would be forced to mutiny and before she knew it, she’d be living the life of piracy once more. Nope, not going to happen.

Once she was safely on the ground and there was no chance of her signal source being traced back to the ship, she’d get in contact with certain sources who hadn’t soured on her. They’d do little to protect her, but could let her know if her most dangerous enemies were anywhere near this quadrant.

She forced herself to catch a few hours of sleep. Long practice let her drift and then doze, even as her mind whirled with bloody possibilities and fears of violence. She didn’t see Max off. His words about the captain’s attention wouldn’t have provoked caution in her, but she might need credibility with their commander if the threat became real.

The knot in her back loosened when she saw a small folded note on her bedside table. It was written in Max’s handwriting and had only two words.

Nothing bad.

Whatever had been in the signal, it hadn’t been about them. They were safe for the time being. That didn’t stop Inrit from strapping on the knives she’d stowed away in the hidden pocket of her pack, and she didn’t even hesitate before sticking a blaster in her pocket.

“Nothing bad” didn’t mean safe. At best it was “safe for now.” She wouldn’t contemplate the worst until she made it planet-side.

The security team had been first out three hours before. Inrit hopped on the second shuttle off the ship along with several other crew and Krayter. His head was bowed over an entertainment tablet so she didn’t bother him or ask after Kayleb. She didn’t want to risk him offering her company.

A half hour after boarding the shuttle, they landed on Ohra, the port city for this sector of Vrinli II. Inrit made casual conversation with a woman who worked in communications, and waited until most of the party had dispersed before she took off. She had places to go, people to see, heads to bust.

Fun vacation stuff.

***

‘Shithole’ was too kind a term for Ohra. Dust clogged Max’s throat and made his eyes water, and the air had that faint scent of manure he’d heard was common on undeveloped planets. Anti-grav shuttles took up most of the road, shunting walkers and other vehicles off to the sides as they trundled past.

The six member security detail kept a tight circle around Captain Morvellan and his posse of three. All of them were on the lookout for any threat, though so far, nothing seemed out of place. Max kept his eyes open for something worse than pickpockets and street toughs.

Ohra was just the right mix of technological and rustic for a pirate crew to take their down time. They were far out of reach of the Oscavian Empire, one of the largest and toughest governments in the universe. For the most part, Vrinli was self-sufficient. They grew their own crops, lived amongst themselves, and kept space travel relegated to a few port cities.

Most importantly for pirates, the Vrinlanders kept to themselves. As long as no one attacked them, they wouldn’t go out of their way to report trouble. That fact made this a smuggler’s paradise as well.

It hadn’t escaped Max’s notice that Captain Morvellan remained close mouthed about the point of their meeting. Max supposed that it could be completely legitimate, but he’d never seen a legitimate business meeting take place with six guards armed from head to toe.

Back when he’d examined the captain’s logs on Nina Station, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. But it was only now that Max was recovered from his brush with glitching that he realized just how impaired his functions had become. There must have been dozens of small things that he missed, things that had tipped Nina off to his condition long before she grew suspicious of his medical records.

They made it to their destination without incident and he could almost feel his team breathe a sigh of relief. He’d need to train them out of that; they weren’t safe yet, far from it. Right now, they were about to dive into danger and Max’s fingers itched to clutch his blaster.

He remained empty handed and opened the door to the dingy dining establishment that had been chosen for this meeting. Two security members went in first, scouting quickly to make sure there wasn’t a trap. The captain followed with his people, and the rest of the security team took up the rear.

The bar was dark and though the space was large, only ten patrons sat at the bar and scattered among the low tables. It was so dark that Max hoped the humans on his crew had vision enhancements. Without his cyborg sight, he’d be on the edge of blind. The Vrinlanders must have better sight than humans.

They weren’t here for food or drinks. A tall Vrinlander woman, her skin bright green and hair purple and held back in disciplined braids, stood beside a curtained door that led to the back of the building. Her eyes met Max’s and she nodded, indicating that was their place.

Max took the lead and walked past the guard with another nod. Inside, the room brightened considerably and a sweet smoke of some kind hung thick in the air. The light came in through slats in the high ceiling and the room was no bigger than five meters square.

A Vrinlander man sat behind a circular table, flanked by two guards. His arm was slung over a young Vrinlander man who curled into the first man’s shoulder and played with tassels that decorated his jacket. The boss and his boyfriend.

The boss smiled when he saw Morvellan, and the captain stepped past Max as if he wasn’t there.

“Well met, my good friend!” said the boss, reaching across the table and clasping Morvellan’s arm. “It has been too long.”

“The journey leads down forgotten roads,” Morvellan replied. He took the seat opposite the boss and turned back towards Max. “Stand outside with the others. We’ll conclude shortly.”

Max nodded and left, quelling the protest that burbled inside. The captain wasn’t in any danger and he didn’t want Max to know what was going on. Fine. Max didn’t need to know.

He stepped out and joined his crew, who’d all clustered around the bar. With a wave of his hand, he ordered a water and kept to his feet. Just because Morvellan thought he was safe didn’t mean things couldn’t go sour in a heartbeat.

Something pulled his attention to the door a moment before it opened. A woman in a dark cloak walked in, her face completely in shadow and her hands covered by leather-synth gloves.

It didn’t matter. Max would know her anywhere. What was Inrit doing here? And why was she hiding?