As I headed towards my hiding spot, I tried like crazy not to limp, not to press my hand to my throbbing temple in front of Mack.

I don't know why, I didn't know him, had nothing to prove.

But, for whatever reason, maybe my own stupid pride, I didn't want to admit that Larko and his friends had gotten in more than just a couple of hits. Mack didn’t ask why they’d targeted me, the one small miracle of the night.

On the station and up here, I’d let my training lapse, trying to keep my cover. Lot of good it had done me. And now that lapse could have gotten me killed.

Two levels down, I found a pocket of the maintenance section that, due to some quirk of the original satellite plans, was still in an unsecured area.

“There,” I pointed.

Mack’s eyes followed mine to an air vent, half hidden behind a bank of machinery.

“This is where you show me how big the rest of the vent is, right?” he joked.

“Oh, Void.” I looked at the breadth of his shoulders and then again at the size of the air shaft. There was no way he would fit in there. It’d take hours with a torch just to cut a space for him.

He stepped forward to brush a section of hair that had fallen out of the braid away from my face. His touch surprised me, almost hesitant.

“You’re overthinking this,” he rumbled. “How often do you think people find this place?”

“I don't think anyone comes down here. No reason to, really.”

“Let's get you settled, and I'll just hang out here to keep you company. How does that sound?”

It sounded easier than it should have. I felt worse when Mack took it on himself to move the machinery that blocked half the vent.

“Do you have tools for that?” he asked looking at the bolts holding the cover in place.

“I try to be prepared. Some days it works better than others.” I found the tool kit I'd stashed on previous scouting trips and quickly undid the bolts.

Now that the shaft lay open before me, it felt silly to shimmy in. We were safe here. I was safe, wasn’t I?

“I don’t suppose you tucked a healing wand around here, too?” Mack’s question interrupted the circles in my head.

“Nope. Didn’t plan for that.” I spun the wrench in my hands, then blurted on. “Look, I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you, but…”

He held up a hand. “You don’t know me. Darkness, I don’t know me. Get in there, and we’ll make more plans later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” I slithered into the shaft. “I like plans. And lists.” Not exactly comfortable, but having solid permasteel all around did wonders for my sense of safety.

“Horrors,” he mocked, sliding down to lean against the opposite wall of the maintenance closet. “Not lists.”

I crossed my arms in front of me and studied him. His eyes were closed, but he didn’t seem headed towards sleep. Technically, even if he couldn’t get into the shaft himself, he could reach in, drag me out.

“I can hear you thinking from over here.” He cracked an eye. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?”

I sighed. “No.” I propped my chin in my hands, too tired and sore to hold my head up. “Ever since I was brought here, I can’t stop thinking about ways I could be attacked. I shouldn’t have let myself be taken.”

He tilted his head, and, just like in the infirmary, I was caught by his tawny eyes. “How bad manners is it for me to ask what you were arrested for?”

“I wasn’t.”

“What? Then why are you here?”

“Because someone wanted something I had. I’ve been trying to decide what to do next.”

“Isn’t there some sort of appeals board, something?”

“That’s not going to help me. I know why I’m here, but I don’t know who’s behind it.”

“Well, you’re one up on me, then.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I keep feeling like I need to get somewhere, but, every time I reach for it, it's a blank. If I’m your sign, I’m a pretty crappy one.”

I grinned. “We’ll manage.”

“What are you going to do about your cuff?”

“I don’t know.” Options scrolled through my mind, each demanding to be balanced, analyzed. “I need to be able to access the rest of Minor. There’s got to be a protocol for when this happens. I’ll ask Denon at the clinic tomorrow.” The need for a contingency plan gnawed at me. “If I can’t get it working again, the only reason to keep it on would be to blend in, and you can see how well that went.”

“Don’t forget about our lovely dining experience.” His eyes narrowed. “It sounds like you think keeping it on is optional.”

Damn. That’s what I get for thinking out loud.

“And now you’re all wary again.” He stretched out on the deck, rolled his broad back to me. “Sleep now. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

I wanted to stay awake, figure out what I was going to do next, if I couldn't get the cuff reactivated. I've been waiting for a sign, maybe this really was it. I stared at Mack’s back, listening to his breathing in the tiny room, until I drifted into sleep.

Without a chrono, it's damn hard to tell the time. Back on the station, most levels had lights rise and dim in time with an Imperial day cycle, just to try to keep things more or less in sync. It worked that way in the dorms, but in this forgotten little nook it was just the same mostly dark grayness.

I checked my cuff out of habit and then kicked myself. The status band was programmed to dim during the night cycle, but, obviously, that wasn’t going to help me now.

So I had no idea how long I'd slept when I jolted awake.

I strained my ears but couldn't hear anything over the sound of my heart beating, couldn't figure out what had dragged me from sleep.

Then I heard it again. “Go to hell,” came a soft murmur. And then a low grunt, like someone being hit.

In the dim light I could see Mack tossing and turning.

I shimmied halfway out from the air shaft, then paused. This wasn't any of my business. The half-light was enough to see the look of anguish on his sleeping face. Whatever he was remembering in his dreams, it had to be pretty awful.

I wiggled closer to him, laid my hand on his chest, half prepared to duck back in case he was one of those who woke up swinging. There'd been a guy like that in training.

“Mack, it’s okay, wake up.”

He flinched, and then relaxed under my hand. I could feel the muscles of his chest beneath the thin fabric of the prison-issued jacket. His breathing slowed, and, although he didn’t wake, the lines of strain on his face eased.

Good enough.

I started to head back to my hidey hole, but his hand shot out and pulled me to him, tucking me against his side.

This wasn't what I had planned. His arm wrapped over my waist like a vice. Well, I thought as I pillowed my head on his shoulder, it wasn't any less comfortable than sleeping in the air shaft.

And I had a feeling that Mack was just as solid as permasteel walls.