As they sailed out of the gate and into the Ios System, Zakota slumped back in his seat. He wanted to melt all the way down to the deck and take a nap. Or maybe head to his bunk, but he made himself check the sensors to make sure there wasn’t anything surprising in the system. Like that armada of Zi’i ships that Asan had seen leaving the Scyllan System the day before. Also, he kept an eye on the gate behind them. Just because they didn’t think the Scyllans would follow them through didn’t meant it couldn’t happen.

“No blatant enemy ships on the scanners, Captain,” Korta said, making the report before Zakota had it.

“Good,” Sagitta said.

“The system is busy, however,” Korta added, “with approximately thirteen more ships than typical flying between the gates, and twice as many at Tyrax Station as usual. That gives us seventy-three in the system and forty-six of them at or around the station.”

“They may be fleeing trouble at home,” Sagitta said quietly. Grimly.

Zakota rubbed his gritty eyes. Dethocoles wasn’t home for him, so he wasn’t as emotionally tied to it as the captain and much of the rest of the crew, but he’d done his training there, and the Star Guardians were based out of the capital, so he’d spent much time on the planet and had many friends there. And for more than personal reasons, he didn’t want the Zi’i to strike such a great blow against the Confederation, as it would be one against humanity at its core, with ramifications that spanned the galaxy. If the aggressive aliens took over—or destroyed—Dethocoles, that might give them the advantage they needed to do what they hadn’t managed during the Territory War six years earlier. Defeat and enslave—or destroy—all of humanity.

“You’d think they would go to help,” Ku said. “Cowards.”

“Maybe it’s not their war,” Zakota said, looking at the sensor readout of the ships in the system. Some were freighters with few offensive capabilities, some belonged to aliens, and some were old-model space fleet ships, probably decommissioned and purchased by civilian captains. Human captains. Maybe Ku was right and those people should have gone to Dethocoles to help.

“Maybe they’re cowards,” Ku repeated.

“How far to Tyrax?” Sagitta asked, not deigning to comment on the bravery of the captains out there, or the lack thereof.

“Nine hours and twenty-three minutes,” Zakota said.

Ios was a big system with three stars, two orbiting each other and one doing a very distant orbit of the others. It took more than a day and a half to cross it. Zakota was surprised they hadn’t come in quickly enough to catch sign of the Zi’i armada on its way to the Dethocolean System. Unfortunately, the skirmish with the Scyllans had delayed their passage through that system.

“Tyrax Station reports that there aren’t any docking slots open currently,” Korta said. “There won’t be for two days.”

Sagitta’s eyes closed to slits. “Is that the truth?”

“Sir?” Korta asked, his bulbous boulder body rotating as he looked toward the captain.

“The Scyllans risked their lives and their ships to impede us, perhaps because they were bribed or threatened by the Zi’i. If that happened there, it could have happened in this system, as well.”

“Tyrax Station is allied with the Confederation.”

“It’s allied with six other species too. They’ll take anyone’s money.”

“I see your point, sir,” Korta said. “We’re too far away for the sensors to scan their docks, but I can keep you updated as we approach. They did say that there are open spaces in their shuttle bay. We have access to the remaining Zi’i shuttles.”

“If we try to take Zi’i anything into the station, we may get shot at,” Zakota said. He was fairly certain that the Zi’i were not one of the seven species welcome at Tyrax. Thanks to their tendency toward eating other species, they weren’t welcome in many places.

“Yes, I had planned to leave the warship well away from the station,” Sagitta said, gazing at the view screen.

“Maybe Hierax can paint one of the shuttles so it’s less obviously Zi’i,” Ku said.

“It looks like a fang,” Zakota said. “How would paint help?”

“Perhaps a pink fang would be less alarming,” Sagitta said, his rare humor coming out.

“The stench would still give it away,” Zakota said.

“You have a soft nose,” Ku told him.

“Better than a soft dick.”

“A problem you’re intimate with, I’m sure.”

Zakota rolled his eyes.

Ku smiled faintly as he looked back to his console. Gods, did the nut actually enjoy their arguments? Maybe only when he thought he came out on top. Later, Zakota would throw some raw steaks under his bunk to rot unnoticed for weeks. Ku deserved that.

“Hierax specifically said he needs to get his parts from Tyrax,” Sagitta said.

“Yes, they have in-house smelting and manufacturing facilities,” Korta said, “and they’re famous for stocking common and rare metals from all over the galaxy. I believe Chief Hierax needs the Wanderer alloy.”

“Very well,” Sagitta said, “we’ll continue to the station. Korta, do update me on the status of the docks when we get close enough to scan them. My intuition is itching.”

When it became apparent that the Scyllans would not follow them out the gate, the captain spoke again.

“Zakota, lay in a course for the autopilot, then hit your rack for a few hours. We’ll need you fresh for Dethocoles.”

“Yes, sir.” Normally, Zakota would turn over the helm to Asan for the night shift, rather than leaving the Falcon in the hands of the autopilot, but there weren’t any obstacles between here and the station, so it ought to be fine.

Besides, judging by the way the captain sat down after giving that order, he wasn’t going anywhere, so the bridge wouldn’t be unmanned. Korta never seemed to need sleep, either. Supposedly, his species hibernated once in a while.

“You, too, Ku,” Sagitta added.

“Yes, sir.”

Zakota set a course, rubbed a few of his talismans for luck—Ku was looking his way, so he didn’t kiss any of them—and stood up. As they headed for the door, Sagitta checked in on Asan on the warship.

“Any damage over there, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“Nothing major, sir. A few alarms are flashing, but that’s pretty typical.”

“We’ll tube up later, and I’ll send Hierax over to take a look.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Set the autopilot so you and Coric can get some rest, but someone should stick close in case we run into trouble. You still have a cot on the bridge?”

“Er, yes, sir,” Asan said, an odd note in his voice. “But I believe it’s been defiled.”

Zakota paused at the bridge doors, curious.

“Defiled?” Sagitta’s tone was flat and unamused.

“Yes, sir. By… visitors.”

The captain didn’t prompt him for more information, and, disappointingly, Asan didn’t continue on.

But Ku snorted, as if he knew what it was about.

“Hierax,” he said when Zakota looked at him. “And his new woman.”

Zakota almost fell over. “Hierax has a woman?”

“Apparently.”

“Who?” Zakota hadn’t thought their chief engineer, who favored interactions with tools and computers to humans, even knew there were women on board.

“The one who deciphered the Wanderer music problems. I understand she beats him at Petteia.” Ku’s dark eyes glinted with approval.

“Huh.”

Now that Zakota thought about it, he remembered that Hierax had been making some sexual analogies back in the Wanderer System. That was very unlike him, and Zakota had thought it odd at the time. Maybe this explained it. And that Indigo woman had said something about being satisfied after spending a night on the warship with him. Zakota had thought it was a joke.

Sagitta frowned over at them, probably not appreciating such frivolous conversations taking place on his bridge, so Zakota waved Ku through the door. If they lingered, the captain might decide they weren’t tired and needed more work to do.

They walked out of the bridge and found a woman in a brown jacket nonchalantly leaning her shoulder against the wall. She had reddish-brown hair pulled back into a tail, blue pants with holes ripped in the knees, and a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Even though she wasn’t the most feminine woman Zakota had seen, she had a nice chest, and he liked those freckles.

What was her name? Kate? Kat? He’d seen her around the ship plenty of times, but he’d been too busy working to seek out and flirt with any of the rescued women, especially since Sagitta had added piloting the Zi’i warship to the duty roster.

“Are you here to purchase good luck charms?” Zakota asked, dipping a hand into the bulging cargo pocket where he kept his scrimshaw tools and a few of his latest pieces. He unrolled the kit and flipped his wares out for display before she reacted. “They’re blessed by a shaman who prays to the gods directly to infuse them with genuine power. Do you have money?”

She frowned at him. “Unless this ship has an ATM linked to Coconino Federal Credit Union, then no.”

“Coco-what?”

“Never mind.”

“She said she’s broke,” Ku said, waving a dismissive hand at the charms.

“How about you, Killer?” Zakota shifted his unrolled display kit toward him. “We may be going into battle again soon. You could use some more luck. The gods can’t possibly like you. Here, see the fine workmanship on this one? A steppes jaerok. I don’t have to tell you how lucky it is to rub its trunk.”

“No, you don’t, because I’m not interested. It’s crazy that you believe in that superstitious nonsense.” Ku strode past the woman and headed for the ladder well.

Zakota put on his usual unflappable smile, even if sometimes inside, he flapped.

“He’s not into trunks,” Zakota said.

“Imagine. Look, you’re Lieutenant Zakota, right? Head pilot?”

“Helmsman, technically, but yes. Are you here to see the captain?”

“I’m Katie Saunders. I was in the United States Navy for eight years and flew a Super Hornet jet fighter. After the Navy, I got my commercial pilot’s license too. I wasn’t interested in flying big whale passenger jets, so when a gig opened up working for the USGS office, flying surveyors all around the Southwest, I jumped at it.”

Zakota gazed at her, admiring the freckles, though he had no idea what she was talking about or why he was the recipient of the speech. It was safer, he had learned as a young man, to admire a woman’s facial features instead of her chest.

She stopped talking and seemed to be waiting for a response as she looked at him expectantly.

“So… not here to see the captain?” he asked, feeling stupid for doing so, but she hadn’t come right out and said what she wanted from him. He felt confused. This happened often with women.

“No. Those were my qualifications. I’d like to learn to fly your ship.”

Zakota stared at her. Was she crazy?

“Qualifications? Did you say jets? Like airplanes?”

“Yes, I’m an airplane pilot, but I’ve been training on your flight simulator for weeks. Ever since I learned your ship would talk to me and could bring up holographic software for me to practice on.”

“Eridanus?” Zakota asked, more because he was buying time to think of a way to let her down easily than because he was confused as to who had been sharing flight simulators with her.

“Yes, Lieutenant Zakota,” Eridanus’s voice came from the walls. “I am present, as always.”

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t calling you.”

“You said my name.”

“Eridanus,” Katie said, looking toward the wall. “Please tell Lieutenant Zakota that I am qualified to fly this ship.”

“Katie Saunders has spent many hours on a flight simulator using a helm station identical to that of the fire falcon 8800-XR class ship,” the AI said.

“That’s not what I asked for,” Katie said. “I already told him that.”

“A Star Guardian helms officer is required to possess a five-year astropiloting degree, or equivalent military training and experience,” Eridanus said, “in addition to one thousand hours of flight experience as an assistant before piloting a ship solo.”

Zakota wiped his brow, relieved the AI had shot her down so he wouldn’t have to.

“I have military experience,” Katie said.

“Space fleet military experience is required. On spacecraft.”

“Look, I don’t want to take over your job or anything,” she told Zakota. “I’d just like to fly a spaceship before I go home. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. Would you consider showing me the ropes? On a real console? Not just a flight simulator?”

“I don’t have—”

“Want to make a wager?” Katie offered, a challenge in her eyes. “If I can beat you at the basic flight simulator challenge, you’ll agree to teach me on the real helm. And let me fly the ship. It can be in the dead of night when the captain is snoozing if you don’t think he’ll agree.”

As if the captain ever snoozed. The man was always on the bridge or in his ready room, monitoring the bridge. He probably didn’t even remember where his cabin was located.

“What’s in it for me?” Zakota asked.

Wasn’t he supposed to get a chance to win something in a wager?

“What do you want?” She propped her fists on her hips and squinted at him.

It was about a hundred light years from a come-hither look, so he doubted she would offer to have sex with him if she lost. Not that he wanted a woman to come to his bed because she’d lost a bet. Even if the way she now stood had parted her jacket farther and showed off more of her chest.

“Do you think any of your people would be interested in my fine carvings?” He spread a hand over his creations.

“My people? The other women on the ship?”

“I was thinking more of all the people on your planet.”

She blinked slowly. “The population is more than seven billion.”

“With that many people, odds are good that there have to be some scrimshaw fans then, some who need the luck of the gods.”

“People are particular about their gods. Look, how about this. If I lose the wager, if you beat me at the simulator course, I’ll buy one of your charms. I can pay you once we get back to Earth.”

Payment in a currency that, as far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned, was worthless. Lovely.

“You’re asking me to take a big risk—I’ll bet the only reason you’re talking to me is because you already asked the captain and he said no.” Zakota arched his eyebrows, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing. “I thought so. I’d have to sneak around in order to teach you and risk getting demerits on my record and extra duties.”

“Are you truly worried that you, a master Star Guardian spaceship pilot, will lose to me? I’m just some civilian who flies airplanes, after all.”

“I’m not worried I’d lose—there’s no way you could beat me on the simulator for my own ship, not even if I tutored you extensively first. But I’m not as stupid as Ku says I look. I don’t play games with my career. This is my dream, and it’s…” Zakota thought of the oath he’d sworn to his father, of his harried mother and all his little brothers and sisters. Bo and Noka had grown up and moved out since he’d left, but the rest were still at home, in school or doing apprenticeships in the village. “I can’t risk losing it.” He took a deep breath, tamping down emotions he was always careful not to let show. If people out here thought his heritage was a joke, it was easier to laugh along with them than trying to change their minds. That way led to madness. “I need to get a few hours of sleep here. We’re heading into a war. Oh, and the captain is dropping you all off before we leave this system, so you’re not going to have the time to pilot anything, anyway. Did you hear?”

Katie was looking down at the scrimshaw kit he hadn’t yet put away, the various talismans and charms lovingly nestled in their slots.

“What if I buy one of your trinkets?” she asked, pointing at one of a Bariau, one of the shy spirits that lived in old tree trunks. “Just because. No wagers.”

He hesitated. Nothing had truly changed—it wasn’t as if her money counted for anything—but he couldn’t help but be affected when someone wanted a piece of his culture. Even if it was clear that this particular someone was trying to manipulate him.

“And maybe I could get everyone in my office back home to buy one,” Katie added. “If anyone needs luck, it’s that group. If you’re still all taking us home eventually, it wouldn’t take me long to find the guys and round up your sales. It’s not seven billion people, but there are at least ten guys I could talk into it I’m sure.”

“With Gaian money?” Zakota asked, imagining his mother getting a wad of colorful paper or coins or whatever Gaian money looked like and being rather confused. It wasn’t as if she would be able to use it anywhere.

“Are US dollars not good in the galaxy?” Katie smiled faintly. “How about gold or silver? Are they universally valuable? I know there are a few gold bugs in the group. Though I’m not sure they’d part with gold for—uh, what did you say that one is?” She pointed at the one Zakota had tried to interest Ku in.

“A steppes jaerok. That’s the trunk.”

“Oh, it looked like something else, and I thought it was alarmingly large. Never mind.”

“Gold has value as a commodity, I suppose,” Zakota said.

Hope entered Katie’s eyes as she looked earnestly at him.

“I’d have to check the exchange to see what it’s going for. I don’t think we use silver for anything except making jewelry.” Zakota sighed, rolled up his kit, and stuck it back in his pocket. “Look, you don’t have to buy my work. I just can’t…” He looked toward the closed bridge doors. No way would the captain let him bring in a civilian to poke around at the helm. Sagitta might have let Dr. Tala take the position that Dr. Svetloka had prematurely vacated, but nobody could crash the ship by pressing the wrong button in sickbay. “Maybe you could come with me to the Zi’i warship. Tyrax Station said they don’t have any docking facilities open right now for large ships, so we may be transferring you and the other women to the Zi’i shuttles and flying you over to their bay to drop off. The shuttles are pretty simple. If you studied the manual and ran one of the flight simulators on them, maybe you could fly one for a short time.”

He had barely passed the built-in Zi’i test, so he doubted she would have a chance. It seemed a safe offer to make.

“A shuttle?” Katie asked, her shoulders drooping.

“It’s a perfectly valid spaceship. You said you wanted to fly a spaceship.”

“Yes.” She nodded to herself, some of her disappointment seeming to fade. “Okay, good. It’s a start. Thanks, Lieutenant. When are we going?”

“After I sleep.”

“How long are you sleeping?” Katie withdrew a clunky personal computer about six times the size of a logostec. “I’ve set my phone to ship’s time.”

Zakota rubbed his face. Had he truly agreed to take her to the Zi’i ship? How had he let himself get manipulated into that?

“Give me five hours,” he said.

“Meet at the airlock?”

“Yes.” He brushed past her, heading for the ladder down to the deck where his bunk awaited.

“I’ll be there,” she called brightly after him.

“I’ll bet,” he muttered, stepping into the ladder well.