Killbox

“We are at war,” I say quietly.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” March continues. “What is your cargo?”

The captain harrumphs. “That’s the devil of it, not gems or ore. We’re carrying food and medicine to an outpost on Anzu. They’re hard-hit. Word is, they’re dying.”

Anzu, a mixed-race colony in Sigma Psi—as I recall, there are humans, Rodeisians, and La’heng on world. The climate is somewhat extreme, but there are rich deposits available for mining. Like Lachion, it’s a frontier world with lots of opportunity coupled with severe risk. But it’s a newish settlement, not quite self-sufficient, and without regular deliveries, they will starve.

“All the more reason for us to get you there safely,” March tells him, every bit the commander. “Please don’t hesitate to comm if you need us further.”

“Those pirates were Syndicate,” I say aloud, once he’s broken the connection.

March eyes me. “How can you be sure?”

No, it’s not paranoia. I believe I’ve actually recovered from that tendency, more or less. At last, my head feels like my own again. Maybe I have Evelyn’s nanites to thank, or perhaps I can credit the panacea that heals all wounds: time. Regardless, I have a theory, and it’s a good one. The vessel we just blew up had distinctive markings on the hull. And I remember where I saw that last—on the yacht we stole before we decommissioned her for the Conglomerate fleet.

“Because it’s a clever scheme. Take the settlement to the brink of starvation, then offer protection for their shipments. Who makes a fortune?” It’s a theory, of course. I have no proof. But why else would the Syndicate hit a supply ship? Nothing else makes sense.

“That does sound like your mother,” Dina says from gunnery.

My mother—Ramona—runs a large arm of the Syndicate; they’re responsible for piracy, drugs, slavery, extortion, racketeering, black-market goods . . . you know, the usual. Not very maternal, but she wasn’t even when I was a kid.

“Your mother?” Argus cuts in. “Mary, I thought mine was bad because she threw a fit about me going off world.”

I mutter, “Long story. But it stands to reason.”

“If Constance were here, we could put her on researching at-risk outposts,” March says thoughtfully.

“And then find out where their supplies come from.” Dina follows the idea to its next point.

“Once we know that,” I conclude, “we can keep watch on those shipping routes.”

“I’ll do the research,” Argus says.

I glance at him in surprise. “You will?”

“There’s not a lot else for an apprentice jumper to do on board, you know. I wouldn’t mind feeling halfway useful. I’ll have a look at the news archives.”

March nods. “Get me the information as soon as you can. This is top priority.”

“Understood.” Argus heads out of the cockpit with a renewed sense of purpose, which seems to be my cue to depart as well.

If I saw even a flicker that hinted March is having trouble with the distance between us, it might be harder for me. But this man isn’t the one with whom I’ve shared so much. He’s cool and formal, completely focused on the mission. That makes it easy for me to think of him as my commander and just partition off the emotions for which I have no outlet. Thank Mary I have years of practice.

“Am I dismissed, sir?”

“You are. Good work today, LC.” He hesitates, then adds, “I called you up here in case we needed to give chase via grimspace. At first I wasn’t sure whether this was a Morgut vessel.”

“Aha. That explains it.” Afterward, I realize I haven’t asked him that question.

“I didn’t touch your mind,” he adds softly. “I won’t do that now. But your face is as easy to read as it ever was.”

If that’s the case, I need to get out of here right now, before he sees how much I miss him. Maybe I should have asked to be assigned elsewhere, gone with Hon and Loras. I know the reasons behind keeping me on the Triumph, but they don’t console me much.

“I’ll try to work on my poker face.” I etch a salute and escape into the corridor, feeling emotionally ravaged.

As I walk to my quarters, I reflect that Argus is a smart kid. Maybe I should offer him more training on guns. Based on his performance with the rail gun, he has a strong background, and ship lasers aren’t so much different from pistols when you come down to it. I make a mental note to ask Dina if she can tweak the simulator.

Right now, I desperately need to sleep. Though I’ve lost track of where we are in the cycle, I feel like I’ve been up for days. Maybe I have been. At this point, it’s all starting to run together. I miss Vel; I miss Constance. I miss Hit, Loras, and even Hon.

Today, we killed a shipful of people. I did it on orders, like a good soldier. They may have been corrupt and selfish, venal and mercenary; they may have been Syndicate thugs, but we killed them all. In my bunk, I feel very alone. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality, I think.

My door-bot alerts me as I’m getting ready for bed. “You have a visitor, Sirantha Jax. Allow entry?”

“Yes.”

Hope sparks through me as the door swishes open. Maybe it’s March. Maybe he sensed I could use a friend after that fight. I wasn’t born to this. It means everything that he came, despite his edict about fraternization.

Except he didn’t.

It’s Dina waiting on the other side, looking no better than I feel. Her tough exterior is no more the truth of her than mine is. It’s just what we show people we don’t trust. I’m moved that she feels free to come to me with hell in her eyes: devastation from killing so many people and a longing for her lover.

“I didn’t want to be alone tonight,” she says softly.

I nod. “Come in. Stay.”

She doesn’t need to tell me she’s come as a friend. We don’t have to talk about what’s eating at us right now. That’s the beauty of a friendship like ours. Wordlessly, I tap the setting on my berth and make it a double. We lie down together, separate except for our linked hands. That warmth alone lets me sleep.

The ship is quiet when I awaken, which makes me think I’m off cycle somehow. But in a way that’s good news because it means there’s no crisis. Dina is gone already, so I beep her on the comm as I head for the mess hall for a meal. Once, I’d have called March, but it’s out of the question now.

“You good?”

“Fine.” Her tone says she’d rather not put last night’s vulnerability on an open channel, so I follow her lead.

I change the subject. “Did we have any trouble on the way to Anzu?”

“None.”

“So the shipment made it through.”

Take that, Ramona. We’re onto you.

“It did. Now we’re heading back to the nearest hot zone.”

“Has Argus come up with anything?”

“He has a preliminary list worked up and is now researching their shipping contracts and fulfillment routes. We’ll use that intel to program our patrols.”

“Already?” I arch my brows as I enter the mess hall.

“The kid’s motivated. He feels like he needs to prove something to you.”

“Me?” I repeat, shocked.

Her tone is disgusted. “Yeah, you. In case you hadn’t noticed, he worships you. You’re the goddess of navigators in his eyes, untouchable as the stars.”

Well, it could be worse. At least there’s no romantic component to the hero worship. He’ll find out soon enough what a pain in the ass I am—although if the way I worked him on Emry hasn’t put him off yet, maybe nothing will.

“If you say so. Have you eaten?”

“Yep, hours ago, you lazy ass.” She sounds like her old self, and I smile. “Now, scuttle. I have work to do.”

One thing I miss about the Folly—a kitchen-mate in my quarters. Since the Triumph is so much bigger, that isn’t practical, so instead we have shared units in a central space. The cafeteria is nearly empty at this hour, but to my surprise, I find Rose sitting alone, nursing a cup of something. She looks dispirited in a subtle way, lips slightly downturned. I know she doesn’t much like me, but I hate to eat alone. Maybe I earned some credit with her by the way I helped with the kids?

Once I’ve ordered up a plate of pasta with plenty of peppers, I take my food over to her table. “Mind if I join you?”

She glances up, eyes bruised and tired. “No, of course not.”

“You just got off shift?” I guess, sitting down and digging in.

“Yes, eight hours on the comm.”

I feel guilty, as I was sleeping most of that time. But since I’m pretty much always on call, I shrug it off. “How do you like it?”

“It’s boring,” she answers. “But there was a slight thrill in being part of the action early on, however peripherally.”

I wonder if that’s how she feels, always left out, always on the fringes. I wonder if she knew it would be like that when she followed Doc into the stars. It’s amazing what women will put up with for the sake of the men they love.

“How much time do you get to spend with Doc?”

At her sharp look, I’m sorry I asked. I brace myself for a verbal slap—How is that any business of yours?—but instead her shoulders slump as if she can’t sustain the anger. “Not much.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. I know he loves you a lot.”

“Does he?” She doesn’t sound convinced.

Being with a scientist must involve a lot of being forgotten for higher concerns. Sort of like March, come to think of it.

“Yes. When we were on Lachion, and he guided me through the tunnels, I saw his face when he realized you were alive and well. Though he may not be great about showing it, though he may seem distant and preoccupied sometimes, losing you would destroy him.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I needed to hear that right now.”

And there’s my good deed for the day. As reward for it, I get to eat half my food before the Klaxon goes off.

CHAPTER 35

That sets the tone for the next week or so.

We scramble from fight to fight, living on the ragged edge of disaster. In that time, we haven’t seen a single Morgut ship, which makes me uneasy because they might be mustering to stop this hit-and-run action. I can tell by March’s preoccupation that he’s worried, but if he wants my input, he’ll let me know.

Instead, we eradicate Syndicate and smuggler ships from the Sigma Psi galaxy. We’ve defeated a total of seven ships. Five, we blasted to bits, and the lives weigh heavily on me. The other two accepted the press-gang-style recruitment and permitted our technicians to install a device to ensure they do nothing but proceed to Emry for training. There’s crew enough to keep them in line while they complete the transition.

After I come off shift this time, I head to med bay. They want to test me, see how I’m reacting to all the new gear. The doors open silently, and at first Doc and Evelyn don’t see me. Studying them together, I can see why Rose is bothered.