He didn't have words for what he was.

Nick revved the all-terrain around the front of the ship, and tried to get a grip. Self-flagellation was not useful right now. He'd have plenty of time to beat himself up later.

He'd thought Dun was still mostly out if it. He definitely didn't think he had a weapon. Dun hadn't even tried to draw it when he saw Nick and was shot.

And the reason why he'd let all the fundamentals slip? He had been too focused on Tila, not enough on his surroundings, and because of that, he'd failed her.

He parked where the pilot should be able to see him, and the ship started to hum as Dun started it up.

Nick pulled on his helmet and flicked his comm on. “Lieutenant Intoh, are you there?”

“Bartega, you better have some good news.” Intoh's voice was icy.

“I have the mastermind of the Cepi disaster and the attack on Var, but Drake and Tila are still in the ship, and the new captain says he wants safe passage off the Mother, and he'll leave both of them in a safety pod when he's at a safe distance.”

There was silence. Nick didn't make the mistake of thinking the lieutenant had dropped out. She was just trying to rein in her temper, most likely.

“And where are you, Sergeant?”

“In an all-terrain vehicle from the ship. The person who is behind all of this doesn't have a suit, so it was the only option when I got him out.”

“We see you.” Intoh's voice leveled out a little. “What's the story, Bartega? Who've you got with you?”

“A Halatian called Jirmain.” He heard Intoh's quick intake of breath. “As he made Tila say in her forced statement earlier, he was taken by smugglers when Parn Special Forces overran the Caliope, and he was kept by them.

“He seems to have fought his way up, and has made some friends with deep pockets, but his mistake was setting the VSC back on the smuggler community.

“The other smugglers didn't like it,” Intoh guessed.

“When the rest of his crew realized they and their friends in other smuggler ships would become targets all over again, there was a little coup onboard.”

“And now someone else is in charge.” Intoh sounded intrigued.

“The new leader is Dun, the man who carried out Jirmain's orders in Var, blowing up the buildings.”

Intoh swore. “So not reasonable, then.”

Nick hesitated. “He has a lot to lose if he's caught, which is why I believe him when he says he'll kill Drake and seriously hurt Tila if we don't follow his demands. But he also isn't the fanatic about the Halatians that Jirmain was, and I think he will drop Tila and Drake off when he can.”

Intoh was silent for a moment. “All right, that's good. Or better than nothing. It doesn't look like we have much choice, anyway. No way is Special Forces going to move against him and risk Drake and Tila. No possible way.” She sighed. “Tell him we'll let him leave, and move that all-terrain back.”

Nick flicked the comms on the panel in front of him on. “Dun.”

“Yes, Soldier Boy? Good news, I hope?”

“They'll let you go without shooting. I'll move the all-terrain back, and then you can take off.”

“That works.”

Nick closed his eyes in frustration. “I better have Tila and Drake back safe in a couple of hours.”

“Or what?” Dun asked him, almost in a whisper. Then he laughed. “Don't worry, I've got no need for either of them. I'll toss them back at you.”

He better.

Nick reversed the all-terrain and then sat and watched as the ship rose up into the air in a billow of moon dust.

He better, or Nick would hunt him to the ends of the galaxy.

* * *

Drake opened his eyes and blinked them rapidly.

“You're all right.” Tila leaned against the edge of the bed, hovering over him, but his eyes didn't focus on her face. “Dun shot you in the head with a laz, but he said the setting was low.”

“I can't see.” His voice only had a slight hitch as he turned at the sound of her voice.

Tila swallowed hard. “You can't see?” She crouched beside him, hands shaking.

“It's common for a head shot.” Drake patted her arm, and she realized he was comforting her.

“How long does it take for your sight to come back?” She gripped his hand and squeezed it.

He hesitated.

“It does come back?” Her voice was faint.

“In a couple of hours, or sometimes, surgery is required.”

Med tech could fix most things. Including sight. Drake wouldn't be blind for life if there was more permanent damage. But it didn't mean he wasn't going to have a hard time.

And all because that bastard Dun had taken her. “I should have changed my hair years ago.” The words burst out of her, raw and painful.

“What? Why?” He patted her arm again.

“Because it's blue! That's the only reason Dun took me. If I'd stripped the color from it--”

“No.” Drake's tone was fierce. “You should be allowed to be yourself.”

“I'm afraid that's not working out so well, Commander.”

They were both silent for a long moment. Eventually, Drake struggled to sit up.

“Tila, what's happening? Where is Bartega?”

Tila forced herself to focus. “Dun shot you, put the laz to my head, and used the leverage of that to force Nick to take Jirmain off the ship in the all-terrain and negotiate with Special Forces on his behalf. The deal is they let the ship go, and he drops us off in a safety pod when he's a safe distance away.”

“Will he, though?”

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. “I think so. He isn't like Jirmain. He isn't interested in a new Halatian motherland.”

Drake stilled. “That was Jirmain's end game?”

“It sounded like it was a fantasy, not something he'd thought through enough to ever actually accomplish.” She took his hand in both her own again. “But he's down on the Mother with Nick, so we're dealing with a different dynamic now.”

“Where’s my laz?” Drake's voice dropped to a whisper.

“I don't know.” She twisted around, looked carefully where Drake had fallen, but there was nothing. “I can't see it.”

“It's okay, I'd have been astonished if they hadn’t got it. It's useless to me, anyway, but you . . . can you shoot one?”

“I've never even held one,” she admitted.

He withdrew his hand from hers and started patting down his leg, pulled a tab on his pants, and drew a slim, small laz from the pocket.

“It's a mini-laz. They aren't as powerful as the standard weapon, but they're easier to hide.” He held it easily, even though he couldn't see, and ran his fingers along the bottom. “See this slide?”

“Yes.” Her whisper was hoarse.

“You slide it to the right, and the laz is activated. You push this,” he gently ran his finger over a button, “and it shoots. Simple aim and fire, Tila. It's easy.”

“All right.” She took it, slid it into the pocket of her jacket. “But it may do more harm than good. I'll have to choose wisely, because if I let this play out, I think he will let us go.”

“Agreed.” Drake sounded reluctant, but he nodded. “If it looks like he's going to renege on the agreement, you've got nothing to lose, though.”

“That's true.” She'd have to be very sure before she attacked him. Very, very sure.

“I thought about you often over the years.” Drake changed the subject suddenly, dropping his head back down on the pillow. “I wondered how you were getting on.”

“I wondered about you, too. I came so close to contacting you when Tui gave me the comms you'd sent, but then I talked myself out of it. I thought you would hardly remember me.”

“How could I do that?” he asked. “It was one of the most memorable days of my life.”

She slid down to the floor, leaning back against the bed, and tilted her head so it rested near his. “I learned to bake marsalos, because they were your favorite.”

He was silent for a long time, so long, she thought he might have passed out again, and she started to turn to check on him.

“My wife, Kay, and I, would love to come visit you when this is over,” he said. “And I can try them.”

“That's sounds like a deal, Commander.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Although, you might have to fight the Marsalos Fiend for your fair share.”

“You mean Bartega?” Drake's voice was derisive. “He'll have to fight me.”

She laughed, and that's how Dun found her when he stepped into the room.

“Glad you're having fun.” His expression was tight. “You're needed on the pilot's deck. Both of you.”

* * *

Turned out, they really were needed on the pilot's deck.

A woman with a severe, no-nonsense expression, and smooth, dark hair pulled back from her face, wasn't going to let Dun go far without proof that she and Drake were okay.

“Here they are.” Dun flicked his hand in their direction, his full attention on the screen and the woman.

Tila was holding Drake's arm, guiding him as he walked surprisingly well for someone who couldn't see. She met the woman's eyes, and all she could see in them was annoyance.

Well, she supposed this was a big headache for Parn Special Forces.

“You don't look too well, Commander.” The woman's voice was even more clipped when she spoke to Drake.

“Blinded by a laz hit,” he said, his own voice mild. “Otherwise fine.”

Her lips thinned, and then she took a deep, deep breath and looked straight at Dun.

“All right, you can make your way to the pinch zone.” Her words were less stiff, as if she'd accepted her new reality and was dealing with it. “We'll talk again there.”

“No! Wait--”

She cut the comm, and Dun stared at a blank screen.

“We're going to die.” Someone stood to Tila's right, and she realized there were three seats tucked up against the bulkhead. She turned a little to see more clearly, and came face to face with the thin, almost waif-like woman from the comms room who had given her such filthy looks earlier.

“We're not going to die, Zy.” The snap in Dun's voice switched Zy's focus from Tila to him.

“Yes, we are. And you and Jirmain will have killed us.”

A few others stood from their seats, as well, and Tila counted at least six people.

“We don't have time for this.” Dun turned away from her, pointed to another crew member. “Rina, navigate to the pinch zone. If it's clear, we pinch out.”

“It won't be clear,” Zy scoffed. “They'll have that place ringed with big ships, so we won't have the space to pinch out. We'll be trapped.”

“We have the Halatian and Drake, we're not without bargaining power.” Dun turned back to her.

“Not without bargaining power for Special Forces,” Zy conceded. “But nicely pinned down for anyone who wants to take out the whole ship so none of us can talk. Who do you think Jirmain was dealing with, the Benevolent Society?”

Dun froze. “You think they'll attack us in the pinch zone?”

“Was Cepi too long ago for you to remember?” Zy's voice was bitter. “Yes, they'll attack us.”

“But Jirmain was the one who attacked the base on Cepi,” the navigator Dun had called Rina spoke up.

“On whose orders do you think?” Zy asked. “Do you think he wanted to wipe out his Halatian treasures? No, he did not.” She sent another vicious look at Tila.

“You arranged the comms, heard what they said to him?” Dun asked her.

She nodded. “They were insistent. No hint or rumor was to get out about them. They are very afraid the VSC will launch a full-scale attack on them if they have even the flimsiest of proof.”

“The Breakaways,” Drake said. “The Breakaways are involved.”

“Of course they are.” Zy's voice rose. “Who else has the land available to offer Jirmain a motherland? It's one thing for the VSC to guess the Breakaways are involved; but this ship has comms and files in its system that point right to them. And the people concerned aren't going to let us pinch out to the black with what we have on them.”

There was silence on the deck.

“Jirmain gets away with it again,” Dun said bitterly. “He's nice and safe down there--”

“How long do you think for?” Zy openly jeered. “How long did the Arkhanian councilors and moles who helped us on Cepi last before they mysteriously died? I'd give him five minutes.”

A cold chill ran down Tila's arms and her breath caught. She hoped Nick had turned Jirmain over by now, that he wasn't near enough to him to be caught up in any crossfire.

“Turn yourselves in.” Drake's voice, calm and deliberate, cut through the rising panic. “What have you got to lose?”

“I've got a lot to lose.” Dun stared around the room, and then focused on a spot behind her shoulder.

Tila glanced back, saw Kirt and Timbo in the doorway.

“The three of us have got a lot to lose, because we bombed those buildings in Var.”

“Take a safety pod, and go,” Drake said. “Let the rest of the crew hand themselves over.”

“We'd still have the same problem as Jirmain. We won't last long, no matter where we're kept. They don't know how much we know, so they'll tie off all the loose ends, just to make sure.” Zy crossed her arms over her chest. “Giving ourselves up to Special Forces will just put us in a place where we can't escape, so they can get to us more easily.”

“Then what do you suggest, Zy?” Kirt's tone was sarcastic. “All I'm hearing is what we can't do.”

She sent him a look that should have scorched him where he stood. “We run. We don't pinch out here. We run and we pinch out somewhere else. We go now.” The urgency in her voice affected everyone present.

Tila could sense the tension, could sense the landscape changing. Dun would have let her and Drake go. Zy was a different story.

Tila didn't know Zy’s objectives, but the power structure had shifted from Dun to her. That was clear.

“If you're going to run, then let us go.” She stepped closer to Drake and looked around at the crew, appealing to everyone. “Drop us out in a safety pod. The VSC search for you will be a lot less focused if we're safe and they have Jirmain. Take us, and they won't stop looking.”

There was a moment of silence.

“She's right.” Kirt stepped deeper into the room. “If we drop them in a pod and they tag Special Forces, that would be the best time for us to make a getaway, while everyone is scrambling to get them back.”

There were nods around the room.

Tila held her breath.

“Let's do it.” Dun said at the same time Zy gave a reluctant nod.

They stared at each other, and Tila wondered if their power struggle would take place in the open. But Dun eventually looked toward Kirt without saying anything.

“Take them to a pod and then let me know the moment you eject it.” He turned to Rina. “As soon as I give the word, we go full speed.”

“In which direction?”

Dun glanced at Zy, but when she kept quiet, he faced Rina. “Any direction that's away from the pinch zone.”

Everyone seemed to relax a little now there was a plan in place.

Kirt caught Tila's eye and jerked his head toward the door. “Let's go.”

“So far, so good,” Tila murmured to Drake as she steered him out the room.

“That was quick thinking.” Approval rumbled through his voice. “But keep that gift I gave you ready, just in case.”

Kirt's stride was long and he was in a hurry, so when they caught up with him, he was visibly seething at the delay, giving an impatient wave to get them through the door into the safety hatch.

She had to bite her lip to stop herself saying something to him. They had grabbed her, put both her and Drake into this situation, and now they couldn't wait to be rid of them.

If hurrying wasn't also in her own best interests, she would have delayed him on purpose.

Instead, in silent rebuke at his attitude, Tila solicitously helped Drake through into the room.

Kirt didn't apologize, but he kept his mouth closed as he pulled down a safety pod, clamped to an extendable metal arm, and opened it up for them to climb in.

“I've set the comms to general, so you can make an open call for help.”

Drake paused, half in and half out of the pod.

“What?” Kirt's voice was impatient.

“Nothing.” Drake lifted his other leg, and Tila helped him into his seat and clipped him in. It wasn't nothing--Drake didn't hesitate for no good reason--but they'd have plenty of privacy soon to talk about what was bothering him.

She climbed in herself, and as she was clipping in, Kirt reached up to grab the transparent lid and pull it down.

Before he lowered it, though, Zy stepped into the room, and he turned to her, face relaxed, eyebrows raised in question.

“Message from Dun?”

“I'm not Dun's lackey.” Zy shifted, as if she found it difficult to keep still.

Tila put her hand in her pocket and closed it over her mini-laz.

“Well, what then? You're slowing things down here, when you were the one bleating about how we're all going to die.” Kirt took a step toward her, and she lifted up a laz.

“Yes, we're in a rush, but this won't take long.”

Kirt lifted both hands. “What the hell, Zy?”

“If she kills either Commander Drake or me,” Tila said into the silence, “the VSC will never stop hunting you.”

Kirt glanced over at her, gave a reluctant nod. “That's true.”

“True for you, because you were caught on camera in Var.” Zy's lip curled derisively. “They don't know who I am or that I even exist.”

“They'll find out.” Kirt was looking at her with more and more dislike. “How long do you think it will take the smuggler community to start talking to the VSC once they find out why they're being persecuted again? How long before a list of the crew Jirmain assembled gets handed over?”

Zy hesitated. Shrugged. “So, they find out. This will still be worth it.”

“What, exactly, do you plan to do?” Tila asked.

“A little bit of insurance.” Zy kept the laz on Kirt, but she was looking at Drake and Tila. “Commander Drake here left Jirmain on the Caliope. He looked him in the eye and left him.”

Tila sensed Drake tensing beside her.

“I was on the Caliope myself. And I can tell you that it was chaos. And the only people to blame for what happened to Jirmain were the people who captured him in the first place, and the people who abducted him a second time and took him away.”

“My people, in other words?” Zy sneered.

“Your people,” Tila agreed. “That's why Jirmain included crushing them as part of his plan.”

“And yet, he also blamed Drake.” Zy's arm moved, and she pointed her laz at the commander.

Tila squeezed his arm, hoping he would realize he was in the line of fire.

“Zy, what's it to you? Jirmain's battles aren't ours to fight.” Kirt's expression was careful, like he was talking to a child.

She turned to him, face contorted in rage. “He's dead. Dun killed him by putting him into Special Forces hands. I can do this one thing for him before we go. And besides,” she wiped away a tear, “as I say, it's insurance. Jirmain's backers wanted the commander here dead. It was a bonus, Jirmain said, getting paid to kill someone he'd have killed for free. If they do catch up with us, that's one ace we'll have up our sleeve, that we carried out their bidding, even when we didn't have to.”

“Why do they want me dead?” Drake asked.

Zy started, as if surprised her victim could talk. “I don't know. I don't care.”

“No idea at all?” Drake asked, and Tila waited, just in case she had some information.

“No.” Zy's answer was short.

Oh, well. If she didn't know anything . . . Tila lifted her arm and shot her straight on, and watched her collapse on the floor.

“I hope I won't have to do the same to you,” she said politely to Kirt, turning the laz on him. “But if you close the lid, we'll be happy to leave.”

Drake made a sound, as if he was holding back a laugh.

“Is she--?” Kirt looked from Tila to Zy, sprawled on the floor.

“Just unconscious.”

Kirt nodded, lowered the lid, locked it, and swung the arm to the nearest chute. Then he tapped his comm.

Telling Dun they were about to eject, she guessed.

They dropped suddenly into free fall.

She caught a glimpse of the black of space, the far-off glow of the Mother, and then it seemed as if they were grabbed by a giant hand and thrown, tumbling end over end, while blinded by light.

Drake cried out.

“Explosion,” she managed to get out as her world spun. “The ship--”

She looked back, and as the rotation of the pod slowed down, she saw that where once had been a ship, now there was nothing.