Mick walked along the busy promenade, her enjoyment at being able to stroll around without wearing combat armor somewhat lessened by all the humans and aliens bumping and jostling her. After the stark barrenness of Mustikos, it was strange to see life everywhere she looked. Visitors shopped and ate, much as they would in an airport concourse back home, and all manner of animals—furred, feathered, and scaled—accompanied people.

Since nerves tormented Mick’s belly, she wasn’t tempted to stop and buy food. Ariston had made it seem like everything would turn out all right if she showed up here in time to present her case. And he’d implied it might not be all right if she didn’t.

What happened if he had it backwards? What if the court wasn’t lenient and didn’t care that she hadn’t known Mustikos was protected, and she was trespassing? What if the smart thing to do would have been to return to Earth and let Umbra and their legal department handle everything?

That was what Dr. Lee had wanted to do. All of the scientists, including Dev, had voted to return to Earth, and they were mighty grumpy that she’d taken this “short diversion” as she’d promised them. She hoped she wasn’t about to be turned into a liar.

She turned down a quiet corridor lined with offices and a two-story police station. Three lawyers and the Confederation equivalent of a bail bondsman had prime spots by the station.

A uniformed Heloran with large yellow eyes floated out of the police garage on a flo-ped. Mick eyed the figure warily, wondering if there was a warrant out for her arrest. Had Ariston had time to report in? The salvage ship he’d commandeered had gone through the gate several hours ahead of the Viper. He’d only waited to make sure her ship was able to fly before taking the Pleasant Journey out of orbit. He must have been nervous with all those men he’d turned against still aboard the vessel, especially since he’d had to release a couple to help him fly.

The police officer sailed past her without a glance.

A holographic sign floating above a door beyond the garage read Judge Baghdadir. The nerves in Mick’s gut redoubled their efforts to make her queasy.

She took a deep breath and lifted her hand to knock, but the door slid open first.

“Welcoming,” she murmured, stepping in.

A robot secretary answered comm calls from a station in the corner of a small entry room. Mick started to check in with it, but heard a familiar voice drifting through an open door at the back. The robot, busy with a comm call, didn’t speak to her as Mick poked her head through it. Or maybe people were simply allowed to walk in if they wished.

Stepping inside, Mick found a courtroom, though it didn’t look much like the ones at home. Holographic displays hung in the air, various paused scenes of video footage displayed, and view screens integrated into the walls showed news and data related to planets, stations, and traffic in the system.

Several men stood on a circular platform in the middle of the room, their wrists bound, their hands on a railing. Mick recognized one, Captain Eryx, now clad in more than underwear. His glove had been removed, revealing a pale hand that didn’t quite match his skin tone.

Off to the side of the platform, a bronze-skinned man stood at a podium, frowning imperiously, an impressive aura to manage given that he wore sandals and a white robe—Mick wanted to call it a toga, but the Dethocoleans had Greek roots, and she vaguely recalled their ceremonial garb was labeled something else. Had she thought on it longer, the word might have come to mind, but her gaze snagged on the person standing to the side of the podium, his expression neutral as he listened to Eryx speak—plead.

When last Mick had seen Ariston, he’d been tired, naked, and wet, his short dark hair matted to his head, water dripping into his eyebrows as he struggled to hold all his gear. Seeing him naked was no hardship, but now he was dashing and magnificent. He stood in a black Star Guardian dress uniform, neat rows of medals across his chest, his boots polished so they gleamed, and a short sword in a sheath at his belt. The rank at his collar proclaimed him a commander, but all those medals and other decorations on his jacket made him appear to be at least an admiral.

He glanced toward the doorway and did a double-take when he noticed her. His eyebrows, which had a tendency to draw together and furrow in the middle, lifted with pleasure, and he smiled broadly.

That smile had the power to warm Mick’s soul—and her entire body—from across the room. She practically tingled at the unabashed enthusiasm and delight in his gaze. In that moment, she realized he hadn’t been certain she would come, not at all. She recalled their naked discussion of old sayings in the decon shower and realized now what he’d meant.

Glad to be the source of his pleasure, Mick smiled back at him, hoping she showed just as much enthusiasm. Seeing him drove away some of her nerves and made her certain that she’d made the right choice.

The judge and the crewmen on trial faded from her awareness, as if she and Ariston were alone in the room. An extremely handsome Ariston. She wished she could drag him off to some opulent hotel room with a huge bed, room service, and plenty of libations. Maybe a Kapti table so they could play for the removal of clothes. For as good as he looked in that uniform, she immediately had thoughts of tearing pieces off and reacquainting herself with his nudity.

After murmuring something to the judge, who flicked a few fingers in dismissal, Ariston walked around the podium and toward her.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, still smiling as he clasped her hands.

“Yes.” Mick looked down at the grip. “Though I was hoping for more than a handshake.”

“Well, this is a courtroom.” Ariston glanced toward the doorway, though nobody stood there. “There are rules about propriety.”

“Are you sure you’re not just afraid that you’ll wrinkle your pretty uniform?” She patted his chest, finding a small spot devoid of medals.

“Not at all. I—”

“Take them away,” the judge said, his voice ringing throughout the room.

Two humanoid security robots that had blended in with the walls rolled toward the platform in the middle. Most of the men hung their heads in defeat. The captain glared daggers at Ariston’s back.

Mick curled her lips like a wolf and returned that glare, even though it wasn’t directed at her. It must have startled Eryx, because his expression shifted to one of befuddlement.

“Yeah, you better be worried about me,” she told him, not caring if random civilians were supposed to address the defendants or not. “I knocked you on your ass once, and I’ll do it again if you ever get out and make more trouble for me or my friends.”

The captain must have recognized her or guessed who she was—the last time they’d met, she’d been hidden under her armor—because his expression grew less befuddled as the robot led him and two others away. Mick was satisfied that Eryx appeared slightly concerned.

“Is this the woman who’s prompted your thoughts of retirement?” a man’s gravelly voice spoke from the doorway behind her.

Mick turned and blushed, more because someone had sneaked up on her than because a stranger had witnessed her making threats.

Ariston eased close to her, standing shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t put his arm around her, but there was a protectiveness to his stance that again filled Mick with warmth.

The newcomer also wore a black Star Guardian uniform, his chest even more covered with medals and badges and dangly bits of ribbon. He looked to be seventy or eighty, so he’d had plenty of time to amass awards. His rank identified him as an admiral, and even though Mick was no longer in the military, her heels came together, and her hand almost lifted in a salute.

“I’d been considering retirement for a while.” Ariston glanced at Mick, his expression going from fierce to a touch sheepish. “This mission just made me think about it more seriously, about possibly doing other things with my life.”

“Like becoming a bounty hunter and running off with this girl?”

Mick narrowed her eyes at the admiral, thoughts of saluting disappearing as she wondered if she should threaten him also. Then she more fully realized what he’d said. Had Ariston actually been considering that? Coming to work with her? To fly around the galaxy on her little ship, tracking down criminals with her? And making hot passionate love to her during the long hours of space flight?

She bit her lip and looked up at him. The last she’d heard, he had been worried the galaxy would consider her a criminal.

“A girl who chooses dubious missions, at best?” the admiral went on, lowering shaggy white eyebrows as he considered her.

Mick lifted her chin and glared back at him.

“We’ve all taken on dubious missions at times,” Ariston murmured.

“I know you’re not saying any of the missions I assign are dubious.” The admiral placed a hand over his heart, his medals clanking at his touch.

“It depends on what you consider it when you send one man to deal with an entire crew of criminals on a planet newly discovered to have valuable Wanderer technology on it.”

“I consider that a chance for that man to stand out and bring recognition to himself.”

“How rare for me.”

Mick wasn’t quite sure what to make of their back and forth until the old admiral grinned and slapped Ariston on the arm. “You performed admirably. As we’ve all come to expect. I forbid you to retire.”

Mick blinked, startled by that addendum.

Ariston merely gazed at the admiral. “You haven’t that power, sir.”

“Then I’ll have to appeal to this girl who’s got you by the balls.”

Ariston dropped his face into his hand.

“Actually, I haven’t gotten to hold his balls yet, Admiral,” Mick said. “Which is extremely disappointing, let me tell you.”

“Oh?”

“He had this notion about not cavorting with criminals, even ones who were merely hired to transport scientists to a planet and had no idea the planet was supposedly claimed by the Confederation.”

“Protected by the Confederation,” the admiral said.

“Quite frankly, people need to be protected from that planet, not the other way around.” Mick almost lifted her finger to the scar on her temple, but since she’d essentially stolen that chip, however inadvertently, she decided not to bring it up. She did hope it would be a simple surgery to have it removed one day. She had no intention of returning to Mustikos and its crazy sun.

The admiral chuckled. “Yes, I’ve heard. And seen the footage. There was a pleasing amount of it.”

He smiled at Mick, and she wasn’t sure what to make of the statement. Was he implying that she’d been in that footage? And that he’d caught her doing things that could send her to jail? Maybe the admiral wanted that, thus to ensure his star officer had no reason to retire.

She knew Ariston had been looking at her when that chip jumped into her head. Had he been recording then?

“Pleasing?” Mick asked when a glance at Ariston didn’t give her any hints. “Did you enjoy seeing the captain of the salvage ship running around in his underwear?”

“Gods, nobody would enjoy that. I did get to see you in combat. You’re impressively fearless.”

“Reckless is the word superiors have used to describe me before.”

“That, too, but perhaps if you had a partner to temper your reckless impulses, great things could be accomplished.”

“A partner?” Ariston’s jaw dangled low. “Sir, are you implying—”

“Since I’ve forbidden you to retire and since this woman plans to have you by the balls sooner or later—I can see these things, you know, as age brings great insight—I must therefore hire her as a Star Guardian in order to ensure you have no reason to leave the fold. And because she appears to be a capable warrior who, with a little training, could be an honor to the uniform.”

Mick wasn’t sure which of them was more stunned, her or Ariston. Both of their jaws were dangling now.

“I didn’t come here looking for a job,” she said, though almost instantly, a surge of appeal went through her at the notion.

She’d missed the military and hadn’t known how to find her place as a civilian. And as much as she’d hated that evil planet and those visions, the last one had shown her something she’d never quite understood, that there truly had been nothing she could have done on that hot desert day all those years ago. If she’d done as she’d wanted, running forward to try and stop the boy, she would have died too. Perhaps she was once again ready to be a part of an organization, to have people rely on her, to believe they could do so.

“I suspect you came here hoping to clear your name,” the admiral said. “I’ve taken care of that. Well, I should say that Ariston took care of it with his copious statements regarding your innocence. I’m glad he had a lot of video footage, though, because without it, I would have dismissed him as smitten and therefore biased. Not something I ever thought I’d have to deal with from him, though he is young, so that’s to be expected.”

“Young,” Ariston said with a snort.

“A mere babe. You hardly have any gray hairs at all.”

“I do too—wait, what? Gray hairs?” Ariston gave Mick the most concerned look. “There aren’t any grays, right?”

“Been a while since you looked in a mirror without combat armor on?” Mick asked.

“My father always said looking in a mirror is vain.”

“Then you can’t be surprised if gray hairs creep up on you,” she said. “Don’t worry. There are only a few. And they’re sexy.”

Ariston didn’t look that encouraged.

“Isn’t it vain to be worried about gray hairs?” she asked, a little surprised he cared, but happy to tease him. She figured she still had a few years before she had to start inspecting her hairline with suspicion.

“No, one should be aware of senescence when it approaches.”

The admiral rolled his eyes. “I’m not letting you use this as another argument for why I should consider your retirement.”

“Why would I retire when you’ve offered to send this talented and magnificent woman to Star Guardian training and make her my partner?” Ariston beamed at her.

“She hasn’t accepted yet,” the admiral pointed out. “You should probably slather her with more superlatives.”

“I was going to save that for tonight. I got a nice room for us.”

“I hope acceptance of my employment offer doesn’t depend on whether or not you satisfy her in bed.” The admiral cocked an eyebrow at her.

“No, I’m interested in your offer now,” Mick said, cutting off whatever protest—or claim of bedroom magnificence—Ariston might make. “I’d have to take my scientists back to Earth—Gaia—and cuss out the idiots who funded that mission without talking to anyone else in the galaxy first. But then I could start training.”

“Excellent. Ariston will get your details.” His other eyebrow cocked upward, and he looked at both of them. “For the paperwork, that is.”

“What other details did you think I might gather?” Ariston asked blandly.

“The kind I’m too old to fantasize about. Much.” The admiral winked at Mick and walked out.

She looked around the room, feeling overwhelmed by the last five minutes. She’d come here to argue her case so she wouldn’t be arrested. Getting and accepting a job offer hadn’t been part of the plan.

But the judge and robots had disappeared. It seemed nobody was interested in arresting her.

“Are you truly interested in joining the Star Guardians?” Ariston asked.

“Very much so. I’ve missed being a part of something bigger than myself.”

“Being part of a military organization? That’s essentially what we are.” He watched her eyes as he spoke. “After the loss you went through, I’d understand if you couldn’t do it again.”

She took a deep breath, glad she’d told him about her past, but at the same time, ready to put those memories to bed, to move on. “As crazy as it seems, that planet helped me realize that I’d been beating myself up for something I had no control over. Yes, I’m ready to be a part of the military again.”

Ariston gazed solemnly at her. “I’m glad. Very glad, since I don’t think I realized quite how much I’ve missed having a partner.” The solemnness faded, and a smile flirted with his lips. “So, do you really think my gray hairs are sexy?”

“The black ones too.” She stepped close and pushed her fingers through his locks. “Also, the little furrow between your eyebrows. And definitely that cleft chin.”

His eyelids lowered as she ran down the list, and he gazed at her through his lashes. “My lips?”

“Very likely, but I’ll need to get a closer look to know for sure.”

“Let me oblige.”

He leaned down to kiss her, and she decided that his lips were indeed extremely sexy. Especially when they parted to let his tongue free, to slide along her lips, to tease them open and stroke her tongue.

She broke the kiss for long enough to ask, “Did you say you have a room for us?”

“A large one that overlooks the Leto Nebula. It’s quite magnificent.”

“Did you know I would come?”

“I hoped you would come. Shall we go check out the room now? Or did you want something to eat first?”

“Actually, I’m not quite done looking at your lips.” She curled her fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him again.

“Is it hard to look at things with your mouth?” he murmured, slipping an arm around her waist.

“Not when you’re magnificent and talented.”