She held it at his neck seal, her arm shaking with the effort of it. “Tell me,” said Grace. “Tell me why I’m alive.”
“Hell, Gracie,” he said. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Spell it out,” she said.
“Those bugs, they’re something else,” he said. “They don’t care if you’re an esper, or a criminal. They don’t care if you love the Republic or the Old Empire. They want to use us for food. I been in a lot of fights, Gracie. A lot. And one thing I know is that you fight the biggest fucker first. Then you work down to the smaller … problems. You’re alive because I don’t … I couldn’t win, and I figured you might. They wanted you, and not like you were a burger. They want you because of what you are. Yeah, I hate that. I think you’re … wrong, like breathing water. I don’t like that your kind are in our heads.”
“Trust me Kohl, your head is not a great place to be,” said Grace, still holding the sword at his neck.
“Thing is, I’d rather humans of any kind than … fucking bugs,” he said.
She considered him down the length of her steel, then sheathed the sword. The motion wasn’t as fluid as it should have been, but at least she didn’t drop the blade. “You remember that,” Grace said, “when the time comes to make hard choices.”
The door slid open behind her. She didn’t hear it so much as feel it through her feet on account of the room being in a vacuum. Grace turned, took in Nate standing there, magboots clamped to the deck. Nate, with his hand on his blaster, in case it was needed, but a smile on his lips, in case that was needed too. She felt herself return that smile, and for the first time she didn’t want to hide it. He cleared his throat. “You two catching up on old times?”
“Sure, Cap,” said Kohl. “Did you want to space me?”
“I did,” said Nate. “You try and kill one of my crew again—”
“It was the bugs,” said Kohl.
“You listen good, October,” said Nate. “I don’t care if someone has a blaster at your balls. This is our crew.”
“My balls?” said Kohl.
“You still got those?” said Nate.
“Well, sure,” said Kohl. “But—”
“Because I wondered,” said Nate. “You being knocked over like a corner liquor store.”
Kohl sat in silence at that.
“Everyone’s got a choice, Kohl,” said Nate. “You remember today. You remember where Grace Gushiken had a choice, and let you live. Twice.”
“Twice?” said Kohl.
“Twice,” said Nate. “You know I wanted to throw your useless carcass into space, which was the second time. The first time was when she stabbed that insect in your back rather than take off your head. Would have been easier to just kill you, wouldn’t it?”
“Nate,” said Grace. “I—”
“Hey,” said Nate. “We’ve got to go.”
“What?” she said.
“Republic Navy just dropped by to say hello. I could use my Assessor. If you’re not too busy.” He gave her a wink, clear through his visor. It made her feel warm inside. She wasn’t sure if it was because it was him, or because someone needed her. Needed her, the real Grace, the one behind all the lies.
“Okay,” she said. She turned to Kohl, thought about saying something, and decided not to. She shut the door behind her as they left, switching to a private comm channel between her and Nate. “The Navy are here?”
“They are,” said Nate. “Don’t panic. They don’t know anything but what we tell ’em.”
“I wasn’t worried,” said Grace. “Not about you.”
He didn’t reply straight away, face turned forward as he led the way to the cargo bay. It was still the best airlock for meeting a boarding party. “Do you mind me asking a serious question? I know it’s not my thing, but this once.”
“This once,” she said. “It’ll be okay.”
“Why did you let him live? You could have saved yourself a world of future hurt right then and there, and no one would have faulted you for it.” He swung a leg over the railing for the ladder, drifting down with practiced ease.
Grace followed, a lot slower. Everything hurt. “I guess,” she said. “I guess I decided to trust him. Isn’t that how it works?”
He laughed. “Welcome to the Tyche, Grace Gushiken. Welcome home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Lieutenant Karkoski,” said Nate, “this is a tremendous surprise.”
He was sitting on one side of a table, Lieutenant Karkoski on the other, a personal console in front of her. Nate’s sword was also there, alongside Grace’s. Nate’s blaster completed the pile of equipment he’d had … borrowed since entering this room. Four Marines were lined up behind the lieutenant, blaster rifles held with a purpose. They were on the Torrington, because the Tyche wasn’t holding atmosphere well, and because the Marines had … asked them to come over.
“Captain Chevell,” said Karkoski, “what makes you say that?”
“Well,” said Nate. “Let’s see now. We make a routine run to deliver a transmitter — a run we completed, I might add, which will need payment in full, including our completion bonus—”
“Completion bonus?” said Karkoski. “I’m trying to work out whether you should be on trial.”
“This is where my surprise starts,” said Nate. “This entire system has been under blackout since we got here. Assuming we were baby killers or whatever you think we did, how’d you find out?”
“The Gladiator, a ship stationed in this system, queued up a series of reports. These reports made it through when you opened the gate.” Karkoski moved the console a few centimeters in front of her, straightening it. As if it wasn’t straight already.
“Ah,” said Nate. “So you can confirm we got the transmitter up and functioning.”
“I,” said Karkoski, then snapped her mouth shut, thinking on that for a moment.
“If I could talk for a spell,” said Nate, “I might be able to help the situation.”
“Okay,” said Karkoski. “Talk.”
It wasn’t an invitation, but no reason not to treat it like one. Nate leaned back in his chair, a hard collection of plastic angles designed to make exactly no one feel at ease. Lounging in it was a challenge, but he was up to the task. “The Republic — the dear Republic, under whose banner we all sail — sent us out here, I’d guess at least to start with, as a legitimate aid mission. Get the transmitter back online, get the Guild Bridge up, and everyone’s watching their favorite holos.”
Karkoski nodded, like she was agreeing with someone else.
Nate gave Grace a look. Her face looks terrible. She’d been sitting up straighter since one of the medtechs on the Torrington had given her a couple of pills after she’d waved off the hypo. Nate figured there was a story there, but it could wait. There was a lot of catching up to do all around. He turned back to Karkoski. “The thing is, it wasn’t the Tyche you sent on that legitimate aid mission.”
“I’m sorry?” said Karkoski.
“You sent the Ravana,” said Nate.
“What happened to the Ravana?” said Karkoski.
“Reactor malfunction,” said Nate, choosing not to disclose which reactor malfunctioned. “That’s not important right now. What is important—”
“That’s pretty important,” said Karkoski. “That’s really important. The Ravana lost all hands to a reactor malfunction?”