Renall sat before a large bank of control room equipment, his eyes narrowed. They’d land in an hour, and he had a lot of things to do before then. His thoughts, over the last few days, had been fragmented and hard to focus. They kept going to Clara, whom he avoided like she had low rot, over and over, angering him and confusing him.

The human was beautiful, yes, but there was something else about her as well. Something indefinable. Something that made him want her no matter how hard he tried to deny it or ignore it. His body leaped into response every time he was near her, and he knew he should not allow that, should shut down all of his emotions and physical responses. Hell, he had tried to, but it did no good at all. It was like she had been made just to cut through all of his defenses.

Take the mother and daughters, for example. There was any number of outlier colonies where females were a small presence and always in demand. He could sell them off and wash his hands of them, but instead, he had had them set to tearing apart a baggy space suit and remaking it just to see how much skill they really had. And he had essentially indentured them to a woman who was no more or less than a table slave to one of his halls. Or would be. He grit his teeth. He had no idea if she was even as good as the file suggested yet. But he was banking on her being so, which was both stupid and dangerous. It was possible that she wasn’t, but when he had asked her, everything about her words and body language said she was speaking honestly.

But she was a human and they often confused honesty with their personal opinions. His mouth curled into a wry smile as he admitted that to himself.

Outside the bay windows, the darkness of space had given way to the lighter hues of the atmosphere heavy planet they were heading toward. The gases that lay over the planet were remarkably similar to the ones that had once formed Earth, centuries ago before the humans had destroyed the ozone and then had to build plasma shields and high walls to keep their oceans from surging upward into their cities and killing off all life. Most had gone underground to escape the killing heat, and to be able to use the systems of underground rivers in order to have clean drinking water as well.

The planet they were headed toward was stunning, and so tightly organized by a committee that held not just the voting bloc that kept the citizens from making the same mistakes they had seen across the galaxy, but the purse strings. To live, work, play, or do business there took credits, and a lot of them.

The credits they had gotten from offloading the oreonium a few days before were high enough to gain entry without having to dip into the coffers. The rest of the wreckers, all hired brigands who had nothing on their mind but building a massive amount of credits as their share of the spoils, often stayed aboard or headed out with Talon, Marik, and Jeval while he stayed on Orbitary, the planet the brothers did so much business on. He was better at business than wrecking, truth be told. He was also better at business than the others. Marik was a born healer who had studied hard to earn his license to practice medsites. Jeval was handy with every type of weapon ever created. Talon could fly like the ships he piloted were somehow part and parcel of him. And he, Renall, could make money. Those talents had combined in a unique way and as the ship drew closer to the docking station, the gases parting to give off glimpses of an achingly blue place with high ridges of land and long oval salt-less waters, his smile got wider.

Being on the ship bored him, even after a big wreck. His true love was down there, working on some scheme and currying the political favor and credits that would get them all on that private planet and into a life more legitimate.

The landmasses grew larger, coming into view now. The docking stations were not on Orbitary, but above. Only small ships could enter the planet, and with good reason. Larger ships could bring war parties and weapons Orbitary forbade. On Orbitary, business was the order of the day and any legal business that brought in high credits and paid a high tax was welcome. Thankfully, the committee was equally willing to overlook that illegal credits might have bought the legal businesses on their surfaces.

Talon appeared at his shoulder. “I just got word that there’s a storm of renegade ships out in the Solarium.”

Renall tensed. “That’s way too dangerous.”

Talon grinned. “That’s why I like the idea.”

Renall sighed inwardly. He would never understand Talon. Talon didn’t look at risk as something undesirable. He took it as a challenge. “I see.”

Talon said, “The whole crew’s willing to go on and not drop in here.”

“Marik and Jeval?”

“Same.”

Of course. Renall soothed away the irritation that wanted to surface. “Very well. I’ll take the women down.”

“About that.”

“Uh oh.” Renall lifted his eyes to Talon’s. “What?”

Talon grinned at him. “What better disguise?”

Renall shook his head. “You must be joking.”

Talon said, “No, I’m not. Jessica, in particular, might make a damn good wrecker. She’s savage for one thing, and she has no allegiance to anyone from what I can tell. If we removed her device, she’d be able to get into places without setting off alarms.’

Marik could remove them easily enough. Renall hesitated. “The others?’

Talon said, “They’re both gorgeous. We’ll use them to send a distress call, pretend to be brides bound for the Golan system who found themselves abandoned when wreckers hit the ship.”

Risky. Too risky. “You’d have to disable your shields and give the ship a battered look.”

Talon’s grin was wide. “We’ve done it before.”

They had, but he knew that ruse might be getting a tad old. Renall said, “I can’t talk you out of it.” It wasn’t a question, just a logical statement of fact. He asked, “Why remove the chips now?”

“In case it all goes wrong.”

Good plan. If they got shifted elsewhere and their chips bore out their true story of what had happened to them, they’d be screwed. Without the chips and files, they would have less credibility and be easier to send off to some planet where nobody asked a lot of questions about how females had gotten there. Which was generally what happened to females who were caught wrecking. Males were summarily executed. Not that Talon didn’t already know that.

Renall said, “Fine. I’ll be here.”

Talon said, “I know.”

Renall’s teeth ground together as the ship hit the dock. His nerves tautened as the ever-present threat of danger loomed up at him. He had plenty to worry about. Any day now someone might mark their ship as a wrecker ship, or decide to wreck it. Wreckers attacking each other were not unheard of. In fact, most wreckers managed to avoid the government but rarely managed to evade rival wreckers out to plunder whatever the ship they decided to take on had stripped. Talon loved nothing more than hitting fellow wrecker ships. He had a love for it that was almost pathological, in fact. He said it took out their competition and kept them from being told on and he had a point, or two, but it was even more dangerous to go after a wrecker or a brigand ship than it was a government ship. Brigands and wreckers had longer memories.

Not to mention half the businesses on Orbitary were funded with illegal credits and allegiance was not a strong suit amongst creatures determined to garner as much credit and power as possible for themselves.

He stood and stretched, his long body working against the breathable fabric of his clothing. The sound of footsteps behind him made him tense all over again, as did the light scent of Clara’s body. She smelled like soap and something else, something wholly natural and lovely. Tempting.

She paused and said, “We’re landing.”

“Not exactly. We have to take a smaller tug-in to the actual surface. They don’t allow large craft on the surface.”

Clara didn’t ask why. Her eyes moved over his face. His body reacted to her the way it always did, disconcerting him. He did not want to be attracted to her in any way but he was. She said, “Thanks again for giving Dana and her daughters the seamstress jobs.” Sarcasm lit her next words. “And for indenturing them to my debt.”

He repressed a grin. She was obviously angry, and why wouldn’t she be? “If they work well, they will be out of indenture in a matter of a few years.

She didn’t answer that. They’d argued over it quite a lot already, and there was not much else she could say. He hoped. She had been both bitter and slightly vile when he had told her they were now her indentured servants and she owed a debt for their purchase.

He said, “Please get them ready to go aboard.”

Clara moved toward the door. He added, “Just you and the family.”

Her shoulders went up. She turned to face him. He held up a hand. “Don’t question the reasons. I don’t have the time for that. We have exactly half an hour to be on the surface before they reject our boarding.”

Her lips trembled. He knew she wanted to ask or argue. She didn’t. He turned toward the view and then began to gather his things for the transport ship.