Chapter Thirteen, Point of Origin - A Covienian Once Dissatisfied

   I dropped my spoon, and it hit the side of my bowl with a sharp clink. 

   The sound in the tavern became loud and metallic in my ears. 

The taste of the soup vanished from my tongue, and its heinous replacement was a tight, crushing panic and an unanswerable question. 

  Why was Kovals here?

  Captain Rigg glanced at me, frowning at my state. 

“What is it?” he asked gruffly. At my lack of response, he directed his attention to where I was staring.

  Lev was glaring at Xander– the kind of glare you give someone before you push them from a cliff. 

  “You’re that bastard merchant that ran off with the Lightcore–” Lev slurred, drawing his consonants over his words. The slight speech impediment might have been due to the fact that his jaw looked badly bruised or injured– or that he was evidently already drunk. The Covienian shoved at Xander's shoulder with a sharp push. “I thought you fell off of a sh-shuttle let-out, and-and broke your neck.” 

  Don’t tell them who helped you! Don’t tell them who helped you!  I stared down at my bowl, wondering if I could leap into the kitchen and hide.

  Xander’s eyes flicked to where Captain Rigg stared at him expressionlessly– then to where Lev had rudely touched his shoulder.

“And I thought you ran away.” He pulled his gaze from his wrinkled shirt and looked Lev in the eye– and not the kind of look you'd give someone you were afraid of. It was a look of defiance, and of disdain, and it was hard to tell from where I was sitting, but it might have even been a look of excitement.

  “Sorry about your jaw,” Xander added after a moment, squinting as he studied the Covienian’s face. “It looks as if you have broken it on something…?”

 Lev's dark thoughts worsened as he glared at the Light Geodian. Muttering foully, Lev looked behind him at his companions. The ones I recognized were two tall Flirins that worked in the front of the shop with Lev, but the other four I had never seen before. Or I might have, but they hadn’t left a huge impression on my memory. 

  “Want a rematch?” Lev turned his attention back to Xander. “Looks like I have enough people this time, Geo.”

  Xander looked at the mechanic, unbothered as he tapped his crutch absently with his fingers. 

  Beside me, the captain tensed as he watched the back of his deckhand’s head with a fierce kind of intensity– almost like he was trying to will Xander back to the table with just his eyeballs. 

   Xander seemed amused at Lev's statement. “How quaint,” the ex-gladiator finally commented, “that you cannot seem to pick a fight without a friend to help you, Covienian.” 

   Captain Rigg took that as his cue to finally rise from his seat slowly.  

  “There doesn’t need to be a fight here,” the captain said with subtle tones of warning, his voice projecting easily into the noisy tavern as he returned his hat to his head. “How about you let the Geo be on his way, and let these folks get back to their dinner?” 

  Everyone in the tavern stopped talking. 

  Heads were turned, spoons were placed back onto bowl ledges, and cups were lowered from thirsty lips. Even the Relay had been turned off. The jaunty tune terminated with a high pitched scratch. Nervous glances were then given to the newcomers before they were turned towards the door.

  Apparently, we weren’t the only ones that weren’t one hundred percent comfortable with Kovals presence.

  Lev snorted in amusement, “Bit of a cocky demand– telling us what to do, eh, Flet?” In the now drop-dead silence of the tavern, Lev took his squint from Captain Rigg and directed it back at Xander, lowering his voice. “You were downed in that tunnel– try to remember who did that to you–”

  Xander stepped closer to Lev, his face only a few inches from the vengeful mechanic.

“People like you do not get lucky twice.” He finished his sentence by pushing the Covienian on the shoulder, and Lev staggered back from the Geo’s finger. 

   As if on cue, the tavern keeper burst through the squeaky kitchen doors. 

  “What the– OI!”  Avir wiped his hands on his apron, giving his newest customers a hostile squint. The only noise in the painfully silent tavern were the tired metal hinges of the kitchen doors behind us, which swung back and forth like manically laughing spectators.

  The Leokin’s eyes narrowed as he cleared his throat. “You’ve caused enough trouble this interphase, Koval. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.”

  A patronising scoff was given in reply. Lev sniffed. “And what makes you think you’re the kind of person that can tell me to do that?”

  Even though Avir stood his ground, his voice was shaky with uncertainty. “Because this is my tavern, boy– and-and I make the rules for it.” 

  Captain Rigg slowly inclined his head, taking a step away from our table. “Listen to the Leokin– No one here wants any trouble. We can all go home without getting hurt.” 

  Lev looked at Captain Rigg. “How about you shut up, old man? And you–”  –the Covienian pointed to the kitchen door after gesturing to Avir– “how bout you go back to your stove, and I won’t tell Lou Koval that there was a pesky Leo that got in his way?” Lev gave our table a foggy glance, and I looked down quickly, putting my hat back on before he could see my face. “Lou Koval has b-business with these thieves,” he finished. 

  Avir looked to the side, seeming to be thinking about it. Looking back at Lev, he set his jaw in uncertain determination. “I’ll– I’ll call a Ranger–”

  Lev saw his chance. He took a step closer, and Captain Rigg stiffened. 

  “Our Ranger? Here?” Lev looked around the tavern, having the gall to laugh. “Lou Koval doesn’t pay him enough to frequent these kinds of places.” 

  With those words, something changed in Avir. His shoulders slumped in defeat– eyes on the ground. 

  No– I thought in despair. Lev was winning! Don’t give up now, Avir!

  Despite my silent protests, the tavern cook disappeared into the kitchen with his kitchen helpers and servers. 

  The doors laughed back into place as Lev turned to address Captain Rigg.   

  “You give us back the Lightcore– and we leave this tavern without teaching you foreigners what happens when someone steals from Lou Keda Koval.”

   I looked at others to gauge their reaction, but Zara was still by the Coret table, and Tarik was as unreadable as ever. I also found Charge’s chair vacant. Again. 

Good Ferryer– When did he leave the table?

  Cautiously, I examined the rest of the tavern for the Secodack, but my eyes landed on Lev. I started to study him past the brim of my hat. 

  It was a strange thing to compare him to the flippant, gossipy mechanic I had seen in Kovals at the start of the interphase, but he might have been a completely different person. This Covienian had a foggy, glassy look, with dark circles under his eyes and bad bruises on the left side of his jaw. Scratches and cuts could even be seen under the sleeve on his arm. 

  I mean, I knew that Kovals had been searching hard for me, but… this guy looked like he had seen the afterlife.

  And not the nice one. 

  I looked back at the captain as he started to talk again. “You mean the Lightcore that you appropriated from the Freelance Guild of Merchants?” Folding his arms, the Fletric inclined his head. “Thank you for your kind ultimatum, but I’m afraid we’re gonna have to pass. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were all having dinner–” 

  Lev laughed. “That Lightcore was in Kovals workshop inventory, and you stole it from us.” 

  Captain Rigg’s eyes darkened. “You’ve mistaken my statement for discussion, son. I mean, and meant, no,” –he gestured to Lev’s loose gang of mechanics– “to whatever this is.” 

  A startled yell came from behind the group of mechanics, followed shortly by the telltale sound of someone being struck to the ground painfully. 

  One of the mechanics at the back of Lev’s group held Charge up by the scruff of the neck. “Look who I caught trying to sneak out the door– It's that scriking Secodack that started the fires!” 

  Charge struggled in the grasp of the mechanic to no avail. “Let me go!’ the purple Secodack demanded. “Let me go! Let me go, you overgrown beanstalk–” 

  When Lev’s expression turned back to Captain Rigg, it was slightly less angry, and a little more triumphant. “I think… I don’t accept your answer.” 

  The Covienian gestured behind him at Charge. “Our Lightcore– or we find out just how fast a Secodack dissolves in Rec-mot.” Eyeing the Secodack in question, Lev seemed amused. “I’d give him 60 seconds.” 

  Before the captain could reply, Zara’s voice rang out from across the tavern. “Nah, my money says ten seconds– tops.”  

 Charge wasn’t impressed as he hung limply from the Flirin’s hand. “Thanks,” he said in response to the generous estimations of his imminent disintegration.

  The captain shot a dark look in Zara's direction before putting his hands up placatingly, taking another step away from our table– eyes dark, tone low, and voice terrifyingly calm. 

   “Trust me, son– disintegrating one of my crew is not going to give you less problems… and violence isn’t how you’re going to get out of this one.” 

  Lev interrupted him hotly. “Again, I disagree– that seems to be the only way you Offworlders get an idea.” He addressed the entire tavern this time, spinning in place. “Isn't it?” he shouted, still slurring. “They come, take what they want, and then leave. It took a few centuries of war to get them to understand we don’t want them here, didn’t it? These Offworlders– these Out-lives. These slavers and lords.” 

  His eyes locked with equally worried and angry expressions around the tavern. “So when Lou Koval gets stolen from by these thugs, and you all just sit there–” Lev scoffed, leaning over and shaking his head. “Doesn’t that sound like a repeat, to you? Covien, ransacked by the Innerworders. Again.” 

  There was a sound of several people murmuring in agreement, and I was horrified to find that not all the murmurs of agreement came from the mechanics. Several seated occupants had also agreed. 

  Lev continued, his voice still slurring, but his meaning loud and clear.

“They– they sneak into Lou Keda Koval's place of work, and disgrace it.” He pointed a shaky finger at Charge as his voice rose in volume and pitch, and I was surprised to find his tone was of someone who actually was upset– who actually felt wronged.  

  “He reversed the circuit flows on the welding tanks– blew every single one of them up–” His finger flew to Xander’s direction. “While this one stole equipment and left our workshop a mess!” 

  “Considering it already looked like a trash pile,” Charge said from his hostage position, “I say I did you guys a favour.” 

  Lev dropped his finger, turning to face Charge. “Shut him up!” 

  With an offensive shrug from the Secodack, Lev turned back to the tavern. “They-they’ve-they’ve no respect for us! No respect for the Fringe worlds…These… over-privileged Innerworlders.”

A Covienian wearing a simple pilot's jacket stood up. “They don't treat us as equals!” was her aggressive shout of agreement. “They don't, and everyone knows it!” 

  A few Covienians stood up with more mutters of agreement. 

  I clenched my hands at their sides. They felt hot, and sweaty. 

 This was not good.

  Captain Rigg’s pointed ears went back as he looked from side to side, eyeing the other Covienians that stood slowly from their tables. Suddenly, Lev’s loose bunch of mechanics became only a handful of enemies in a tavern full of angry Covienians. 

Surveying the tense energy of the room, Captain Rigg’s eyes lingered on Xander just a little too long before he looked back at Lev. 

  “Listen.” Captain Rigg’s voice betrayed how much he didn't want to be in this situation. “This is a simple Lightcore– one stolen from an Entrillian mail post.” His long blue coat moved as he readjusted his stance on the creaky wooden floorboards. “This is not the same thing as what happened to Covien– We didn’t take anything from you that wasn’t already ours.” 

  There was another small sound of agreement from within the tavern, probably from other passing Offworlders in the middle of dinner– but it wasn't very loud, and it didn’t last very long. 

   “I’m not interested in politics, or trouble.” Captain Rigg looked Lev up and down, gears moving silently in his head. “I’m here to fix my engine and bring supplies to your planet, and then I’m going to leave. Just like me and my crew will leave this tavern, after you kindly let us finish our meal. This is your chance to put my engineer down before someone gets seriously hurt–” 

  “Hah! And I’m just going to walk away from the people who stole from my father?” Lev’s eyes gleamed in delirious– almost deranged– amusement at the thought. “Why don’t I just go and throw myself from the cliff dock?” Lev asked with an unpleasant sneer. 

  “No one’s stopping you,” said Charge from behind him. 

  “I said shut him up!” Lev snapped at the mechanic holding Charge, and I wondered if Lev knew what kind of impossible demand he was making. The angry mechanic swung his fierce eyes back to Captain Rigg. “This is it, Flet– go ahead and make your choice.” 

  With a frown, the captain drew in a breath. The tattered poster-covered tavern walls seemed to lean in to hear his response. 

 “We’re not going to fight, so kindly release my engineer.” The Fletric flicked his eyes over to where Xander stood, tense as a building pillar and just as stoney-faced.  “Come on, Xander, we’ll let the mechanic be on his way.” 

  Xander forsook the challenge in Lev’s angry gaze, and turned back to the table obediently. The Light Geo’s eyes were on the ground as Lev started to laugh behind his back. 

  “That’s right–” Lev sneered with a laugh. “Go on, slave– your master’s calling you.”  

  Xander looked up, the series of expressions on his face ranging from shock, distaste, and then anger all in a second. 

  I shot up from the table, wanting more than ever to smack Lev Koval right out of the Broken Blaster and onto the street. Or… maybe just shout at him from a distance.

Instead, I heard Captain Rigg's voice instead of my own. 

  And it was finally angry. 

  “Okay, you know what? I think it’s time you Covienians learned some manners.” The Fletric glanced at both Sevus and me briefly before turning back to the tavern. “Get to the door,” he said quietly, and then raised his voice as he looked at Lev in a glare.

  “Go ahead, Zara,” Captain Rigg called darkly. 

  Before I could turn to the medic, something blurred across the tavern in a heartbeat. 

  The very next heartbeat, Lev got hit in the chest with a Coret cue. 

  Every head in the tavern snapped to Zara Leers Xasan, who held another Coret cue in her pale hands, ready to throw.

  “Let go of the Secodack,” the Avaiyyatian demanded. 

  Zara gave the Flirin three seconds to think about it. After he didn’t comply in that generous time frame, the Flirin holding Charge was thrown several metres from where he was standing. A Coret stick clattered to the wooden floorboards noisily, and Charge landed easily in a crouch.    

  Lev struggled to his feet in a red-hot fit of anger. “What are you doing?” he yelled at the tavern. “Get them!”   

  And with just two little words, all hell broke loose.

  Three Covienians went down first with one swing of Xander’s crutch, just as a broom handle was pulled on Captain Rigg and he was shoved to the ground. 

  Xander’s laugh was enough to spring the Fletric back up on his feet in an instant, angrily righting his hat as he used most of his upper torso strength to punch his attacker in the gut.

  “Shut up, Xander!” he shouted at the amused gladiator, pulling the broom handle from his offender and using it to knock the mechanic out. 

  I tried to keep track of the fight, but it didn’t help that the entire tavern had erupted into a thunderous overstimulation of applause, cheering, and shouting. Covienians from the tavern had even gotten up to join Lev Koval’s fight for liquor flavoured freedom– but no one helped the Offworlders. 

  Oh, what one act of justice could do to awaken an entire sleeping monster of hand-me-down, interplanetary animosity.

  From my place at the table, I swung my head to where Zara had given someone three unwanted dental extractions with the end of her big, wooden cue. She rolled across the Coret table in a tight, precise blur, to avoid a small blade pulled on her from behind. 

  “Holy Evering!” I shouted next to Sevus, pushing my hat from my head as I watched Zara use a chair to flip away from the mechanic pursuing her. “Does this happen to you guys often!?”

  Sevus clutched his soup spoon in his hand, cat-like eyes darting around the tavern as his pupils contracted into worried slits. “Yes...”

  I looked back to the brawling tavern, seeing a completely different fight from when I had looked away. 

  “What’s gonna happen now?” I asked fretfully as a bowl of soup– that was supposed to hit Charge– launched across the tavern. Charge ducked, and it shattered on the wall behind us.

  At the noise, Sevus and I dove under the table at the same time. We avoided a second bowl that probably would have either concussed me, or gotten the Nefnat covered completely in soup– or both at once.  

  Now only able to hear the sounds of the fight, I glanced at the cook with a worried look. “Are they gonna be okay? Should we… I don’t know, do something?” 

  From under our newfound haven, Sevus looked up at the newly forming stain on the wall.

  “I’m sure… they’ll be fine,” he answered after a long moment. 

   I peered above the table edge cautiously. No one from Kovals had recognised me yet, and hopefully it would stay that way– but I felt bad just hiding away. 

  “Are you sure?” I asked shakily. 

  We both watched from the safety of our wooden table as cheering from the tavern goers was tossed left and right, and left again. Some cheered for the merchants, some cheered for the Covienians, and some cheered because they were too drunk to realise whose side they actually wanted to cheer for.

  Also, when had the music turned back on?

  “Xander lost his crutch!” I informed Sevus, who had sunk below the table and had his back to the wall. He straightened at my words, watching the ex-gladiator in question throw a mechanic into a table– disrupting exactly four and a half bowls of soup.

  “Somehow, I feel like he’s not that concerned,” commented Sevus dryly.

  Next to the table of disrupted soup, a Flirin mechanic brought a chair leg down atop Captain Rigg’s head. 

  The captain looked down at the floor where his hat had been– tragically– knocked to the ground. The tie to his short hair had also come undone, and the silvery-black strands hung loose as Captain Rigg slowly looked up at the mechanic. 

  All triumph withered from the Flirin’s face. 

  The very next second, the Flirin met his fate, as he, too, collided with the end of a broom handle– he staggered back and hit our table, clutching newly fractured ribs.

Sevus and I sprang from our refuge with a startled cry, only to see that the Flirin had swiftly lost consciousness and was drooling on our table. 

  I turned to Sevus. “I think we should listen to Captain Rigg.” 

  The Nefnat nodded worriedly, pulling his hood higher up. “Always a good idea, I find.” 

  Navigating the brawling tavern seemed like an impossible task without being stepped on. I had to dodge a chair and dive under a new table, only to find myself closer to the fight, and Sevus huddled behind me. The Nefnat didn’t seem interested in finding his own way to the door, and that was somewhat understandable. 

  “This is fun,” I told him “I’ve always wanted to get squished by a tavern table.” 

  Sevus’s look of acute concern told me that he was a very literal kind of person. 

  I sighed under our new table. “I was joking? You know, because we’re in a life-threatening situation?” 

 “How is this a good time to joke?” the Nefnat hissed out. 

  I shrugged, peering out from the table in time to see Xander finally take a hit to the stomach. “Better than the alternative, Mr. Clacher,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Which is!?” Sevus asked in a strained, high tone. 

  I glanced over my shoulder, looking Sevus up and down before I answered. “Well– whatever you're doing.”   

  Sevus frowned, and started looking for another way out of the tavern, muttering. “I'm doing quite well, given my circumstances.” 

  I looked back to the fight, hearing a disjointed conversation between Captain Rigg and Xander as they took the brunt of the Covienians' anger. 

“Dammit, Xander–” the Fletric shouted angrily as he blocked a punch that would have bruised Xander’s jaw, his loose hair making him seem somewhat deranged as he fought. “If you had just listened to me, we never would have had to do this!” 

  Xander stepped away from a mechanic who had a knife, and who looked to have suffered one of Zara’s previous dental extractions via Coret cue.

“What was I supposed to do?” Xander shouted back as he picked up a chair and threw it over Captain Rigg. The Covienian behind them dodged under a table. “Leave the Lightcore and strand us all here? They could have sold it to someone else–”  

   Xander turned momentarily, pointing a finger at the Fletric. “A long time ago, you told me a good deckhand does what is best for their crew– I thought I was doing that–” 

  A Covienian leapt from under a nearby table, and Captain Rigg grabbed a glass, cracking it hard over their head. “Scrike that, Xander– you should have talked to me first– that’s what a crew does–” 

  Xander picked up his crutch, using it to push back a mechanic. “We did talk to you! A captain is supposed to listen to his crew– but you didn’t! All you were interested in was causing the least amount of trouble! But it never gets us anywhere–” 

  The Fletric kicked Xander’s crutch, sending the Covienian on the other end of it into the floor. “Just because I don't agree with you doesn’t mean that I don’t listen!” 

  “I do not agree–” Xander shouted, dodging yet another soup bowl. 

  I looked back at Sevus, pointing to a table just a little closer to the door. He nodded, and after a carefully picked moment, we sprung from our refuge and dove under a new table. 

  My knees hit the floorboards, and Zara’s cry of pain tore my eyes to the other side of the tavern, where her arm had been cut with a knife that had created yet another tear in her jacket.

Zara dropped to the floor. The mechanic’s legs were swept under him in a blur, and the medic aimed a blow with her Coret stick as she sprung back up, straight into the Covienian’s knee– heavy end first.

  I winced, my own knee ligaments imagining what it felt like to be… separated… like that. 

  Beside me, Sevus made a noise of sympathetic agony. 

“Where did she learn to fight like that?” I asked, unable to take my eyes of Zara as she fought. “It’s.. it’s–” 

  “It’s Amasu, and it’s very Avaiyyatian,” Sevus explained, “–and she’s showing off.”

   I watched as the medic avoided a serious concussion by grabbing a heavy glass bottle in an opportunistic Convenien's hand, the momentum of her own blow directing him into the wall. 

  Sevus peered higher above the table, grabbing a roll from someone’s untouched basket of bread. “Avaiyyatians might be tall, but there’s not much to them. Amasu is for fighting attackers that are bigger and stronger than them.”

  Dragging my eyes away from Zara, I watched as Sevus bit into the roll and made a noise of pleasant surprise. He seemed panicky, but he was dealing with it in his own, special way. 

  “Can you all fight like that?” 

  Sevus shook his head, mouth full of bread. “No, but Aster knows a type of Amasu. Xander… hits things, I guess. Charge– actually, I'm not even sure where he learned to fight. Probably some street corner on Phobia back before we hired him.” 

  We both looked to Charge where he was being pinned against the wall by a short Covienian. The small Secodack wiggled in her grasp as she drew back for a blow, but was powerless in the hands of such a foe. 

  Suddenly, Charge looked up at the roof, absolutely panicked. 

  The mechanic detaining him quickly followed suit, searching for what had startled the Secodack– like a roof cave in, or an electricity leak. 

  Seizing the constructed opportunity, Charge bent over and bit the Covienian’s arm.

  Screaming in pain, she staggered, and dropped the small Offworlder. She grasped a bleeding arm, probably feeling sore, and pretty stupid, in general. 

  “Huh…” I mused beside Sevus, who peered over the table next to me fearfully. “Lewis was right.”

  “What’s that?” asked Sevus.

  “'A rodent once cornered will bite'.”

  I squinted. Charge. Xander. Zara. Captain Rigg.

    We were missing someone.

  I swung my eyes around the tavern to find Tarik at the bar, knocking back some kind of drink, and then shaking her empty glass. An attendant behind the bar fearfully refilled it, and Tarik nodded in thanks as he cowered behind the bar once more. 

  “Why doesn’t Tarik fight?” I asked Sevus, watching her cheer on her crewmembers by toasting happily to their brawl with her chipped glass. The old lady seemed like she could hold her own in a fight– but then again, she did only have one arm. 

  Sevus had to raise his voice over the din of the tavern. “Because we don't want the mechanics dead.” 

  I wanted to ask more questions, but a strangely mature part of me realised that now was not the time. There was a clear path to the door from where we were– but several metres from it, I caught sight of the crate where all the Passerine’s weapons were stored. 

  I looked to the door.

I could make a break for it right now. 

  I looked at the crate.

But you can’t just leave. 

  I looked back at the door.

But now would be the perfect time to escape! 

  “Eugh!” I rubbed my face violently, turning to Sevus. “We should get your crew’s weapons!”  

  Under the table, Sevus looked past me, and then nodded. I was surprised that the tall Nefnat was managing to squeeze under all the tables with me without any trouble.

“Agreed,” was all he said. 

Looking back at the tavern, I frowned

  There was an entire fight between me and that crate– now would be a good time to be small and fast. Something that I was, and Sevus wasn't. Shaking my head, I pulled my hat off and gave it to the Nefnat. “Here, hold this for a sec– I’m going to get to the crate. You should get to the door.” 

  Sevus seemed hesitant as he took my hat. “But… without you?”

  I nodded to the door, only two tables away. “Yeah– I’ll meet you there. Just don’t get caught and don’t let anyone see you’re a Nefnat, and you'll be fine.” 

  I turned from where Sevus was giving the tavern a worried look with a nervous twitch of his tail. “Oh,” the Nefnat breathed out, “marvellous.”

  Jumping out from under the table felt like breaking into the day. Under the table was dark and safe, but out from under it, I felt scared, and exposed, and very, very small– especially when dodging a backstepping Flirin who had decided he could take Xander on his own. By the look of his face, it wasn’t going well. 

  The hardwood of the floor sent vibrations through my bones as I landed on my knees next to the crate. The container had an old fashioned lock on it, one that needed some kind of metallic insert or turnkey to open. I had heard that more technical locks were used in the Medium and Kore, and I hadn't understand why, until right now Between the rust and my Geodian genetics, it was only a violent twist  and a second before the U-shaped metal gave way to its crate counterpart, and the entire thing was in pieces. 

  Diving into the crate, I found the canvas bag with little difficulty. It looked like the Passerine and I were Avir’s only problematic customers that night.

Maha! Another twisted plan of the universe thwarted by my extraordinary intellect! With a flowery breath of congratulations, I turned to the door, glancing into the bag just to make sure it was the right one. 

  Tarik's arm, all of Zara's knives, Charge’s angry vial, both of the captain's Pulsers, and even my wire. Hey– Ket had taken my rock!

  I shook my head, deciding to be careful. I didn’t want to be known forever as the Covienian maintenance hand that lost all their most precious things during a bar fight. 

  Vaguely, I wondered how much all of it was worth. 

  Something stirred within me in answer to my wondering, a familiar and foul-tasting voice in the back of my head.

  Probably more than seventy five Disks… 

  The thought paralysed me. At first, there was the initial that is so ridiculous what in Eth was I thinking? After everything the Passerine had done today! Xander had explained Hatiresh to me, and Captain Rigg had even given me soup! 

  I waited patiently for the thought to drift away as I stared into the canvas bag, like I would wait for water to drip through my hands on the cold, rainy days in Surface Side. 

  But the thought didn’t go away. 

  Instead, I started thinking about the costly numeral price tags attached to the crappy cybernetics down in the Grey Market. I shook the thought away, but another one instantly replaced it: just how much metal dealers would pay for vintage Furlian Pulsers. 

  You could buy a raincoat, the voice said. You could buy a thousand raincoats, and never have to be caught in the rain again…

  The noise of the tavern bled into nothing as I stared into the bag. 

I don’t think I had ever held anything worth so much. 

I found myself looking at the door again, eyes tracing the silver-coloured balcony that could be my ticket out of this madness. A perfect ending for a blackmailing street urchin; she threatened she would tell Kovals to steal their things, and then she went and stole them, herself. 

    I felt lost and stupid suddenly, like I had just re-awoke on the Hollow Wastes and didn’t know who I was– my head full of panic, and my mind far, far away. 

Pulling my eyes from the exit, I wanted to slap myself. And I would have, too, if my hands hadn’t been full of all the Passerine’s stuff. 

  “What the hell are you doing, Evren?” I asked myself with a shake. “Help them or don’t help them; leave or don’t leave; stay or don’t stay.” Frustrated, I slung the bag over my shoulder. If I could have seen my reflection in something, I would have shouted at it.

“You’re not smart enough to be mean! You moron!” 

Aiming myself towards the door, I saw Sevus leap out from under the table nearest the exit, at the same time that Charge leapt out of the door. I needed to go, right now– or very quickly, I was going to be very outnumbered.

I raced past a table on my left, my eyes catching on a full-to-the-brim basket of warm cheese rolls. I stopped short, tilting my head in thought. 

  A moment later, I slung a slightly heavier bag back over one shoulder.

  Behind me, the floorboards protested, and I turned quickly, expecting to see a tavern-goer upset that I had just stolen their rolls, but instead, I saw Lev Koval's fist.  

  The next moment I was on the ground again, I had lost my hold on the bag, and my nose hurt.  

  What had happened? I wasn’t supposed to fall over… No, I hadn’t fallen over– I was punched! Wow, Lev really punched me– that hurt. Wow, that– that hurts more than I thought it would. I looked up, touching a  hand to my nose as unwanted tears clouded my vision. Glancing back at my hand, I saw red. Ethreal's lights– my nose was bleeding! 

  Lev loomed over me like a tall, foreboding statue, shaking with fury as he pointed down at me. “You– you… parasite! I knew I would find you down here!” 

  The chipped floorboards of the Broken Blaster bit into my hands as I scrambled backwards. Suddenly, my nose didn’t hurt so much. “Lev! You’re looking good– well, not really, but, sort of–” 

  Lev took one step with his unfairly long Covienian legs, closing the distance I had gained momentarily.

“Do you know the hell Lou has put us through because of you?”

  I shook my head, fear paralysing the rest of my muscles. “I– I can imagine–” 

  Lev leant down, easily yanking me up by my shirt, and I had to balance on my tiptoes so I wasn't choked by my own clothing. 

“No, you can’t–” he said, the scent of liquor heavy on his breath. “Your tiny little brain can’t even begin to comprehend the torment.” Lev fought his clouded thoughts for words to use, looking down at the ground briefly. “Never, in my life, have I seen my father so ridiculously obsessed with proving a point– Never have I seen him go after someone… so low.” 

  Ow, well– that was hurtful. I tried to pull Lev’s hand away from my shirt with sweaty, shaky hands.

“Well, you know what, Lev– funny you should mention that– I was, I was kind of scratching my head over that, too, you know…” I laughed, eyes darting towards the door of the tavern as I licked my lips nervously. It looked like the Passerine had already made their escape. “Why has Lou Koval gotten so upset over– over one street urchin? I mean, I’m just a one kid–” 

  “Exactly!” Lev shouted in my face. “What is the rest of Lisk going to think when they find out” –Lev heaved in a lungful of air before continuing his rant– “that a child stole from him? And that his own son couldn’t stop her?” 

  “But I didn't do anything wrong!” Was all I could say, trying to fight the images of Lou Koval throwing me from the cliff docks and then laughing about it. 

  Lev started pulling me towards the door. I tried to pull back, but nothing I did could make him stop. “This will stop the torment,” Lev was muttering as he stepped over a crushed chair. “Finally, I can do something right.” 

  “But this isn’t the right thing to do, though!” I countered, still fighting against his grip. “You’re just doing this because of your father– but you’re not like him, and everybody knows it!”

  The words sparked a pool of gasoline in Lev’s eyes.

  My eyes widened. Oh boy– that was the wrong time to be angry. 

  With a furious thrust, Lev released my shirt, and I hit the floorboards awkwardly, smacking my head against the wood. 

  “You don’t know anything!” Lev hollered above me, and  I screwed my eyes shut, tensing my arms protectively around my head. Unsteady, Lev's boot hit my shoulder in an angry, clumsy blow.

  “Kan was wrong about you!” Lev shouted above me in a furious haze. “You are just an urchin that can’t do anything but scrub Bot parts!” 

  I didn’t retort, because I found myself agreeing with him. Kan had never mentioned I was anything other than what Lev had said, and I had never done anything to prove anyone otherwise. 

  I tightened my grip around my head, and waited to be kicked again, like I had been so many times before, by so many different pairs of boots. 

  Good on you, I could almost hear Smiley mockingly say, it’s great to see you sticking up for yourself. 

But I didn't see the point. It always ended this way. Me, alone, on the ground, wondering what terrible sins I had committed in a past life to warrant the torment of being small and stupid. 

  There was a sound of someone being struck painfully, but for once, it wasn’t me. 

  I cracked my eyes open only to see Lev fall painfully, crashing into a nearby table and tumbling onto the ground. He held his head like it pained him. 

  Captain Rigg  stood over the tall mechanic, empty soup bowl in hand, and a dark, dark look on his face. I watched as the Fletric pressed his boot onto Lev’s skull, making the young Covienian cry out in what appeared to be only mild agony. 

  “Not so eloquent when you're lying on the ground, are ya?” Captain Rigg asked as he leant over his boot and down at Lev Koval. “One more cross word about my crew or my maintenance hand, and I’ll grind your head head into the floorboards for beetle fodder, you hear me?” 

  Lev had both his hands up by his head, desperately trying to get Captain Rigg’s boot from his temple. 

  Captain Rigg squinted smally, leaning down a little more. “I asked you if you heard me, boy?” 

  Lev had his eyes closed. “Yes, I heard you!” he shouted painfully. 

  Captain Rigg didn’t take his boot from Lev’s head. “And a word of advice? Don’t talk about history if you didn’t live it.” Captain Rigg’s face darkened. “Good, innocent Offworlders died to make Covien free. The only reason the Blue Fringe is free is because of the blood they spilled– remember that next time you mouth off in a port-tavern, boy.”

  Lev whimpered in reply, and Captain Rigg removed his boot… only to knock Lev unconscious with the soup bowl he still had in his hand. The Convenien’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost what little consciousness he had left. 

  Above him, Captain Rigg dropped the bowl to his . His fierce blue eyes frowned at the mechanic lying on the ground, the expression devoid of pity in every way it could have been.

  He snapped his gaze to me. “You can stay lying on the ground like that, but I can be the first to tell you it looks rather stupid.”

  “It does?” I mumbled into my arms. 

  With a fast, annoyed sigh, Captain Rigg leant down and hoisted me to my feet. “Come on!”

  As I scrambled to grab the canvas bag off the ground, I realised what just happened. Captain Rigg just knocked Lev Koval out with a bowl of soup. 

That was epic.

   “We need to go– right now.” Captain Rigg pushed me towards the door before I could recover my balance properly. “What's the fastest way out of this level?”

  I scrambled over a plank from a broken table, having to hold the heavy bag with two hands. “Through the lifts, and that's where they'll catch us–” I said over my shoulder, “but there’s somewhere we can hide. It’s even further down–”

  “Whatever!” Captain Rigg shouted behind me, dodging a chair limb from a tavern occupant. “Just get us out of here!”

He whistled, catching the attention of the Passerine's Avaiyyatian, who was on top of the Coret table again. She swung her head over to where her captain pushed me over another broken table. 

   “Oi, Xasan! Time to go!” Captain Rigg shouted. 

  I stumbled, looking back as Zara cartwheeled off the table, gracefully kicking her current attacker in the face as she did so. 

  “Now, that’s showing off,” I said in awe, but Captain Rigg grabbed my shoulder and turned me back towards the door. 

  “Miss West, focus–” Captain Rigg said behind me, his words sounding less like a command, and more like a warning. 

  I nodded rapidly as I ran. “Yes, sir.” 

  Spilling out onto the walkway, I found Xander catching his breath. “You are not dead, little Geo!” was his reaction when he saw me stumble out of the tavern. 

  “Not yet,” I said, finding Sevus and Charge to my left, plastered up against the wall of the tavern with terrified faces. “Come on!” I urged them, pointing down the walkway. “All the way around– let's go! Don’t stop til you get to the ground!” 

  With Xander and Captain Rigg behind me, and Sevus and Charge in front, I found it surreal that the street below us was just as busy as when we went into the Broken Blaster. Haulers zipped past, flashing their lights and sending little sparks across the concrete with badly primed hover motors. None of the drivers knew that above them, there were seven idiots on the walkways, on the run from an enraged tavern full of Kovals sympathisers. 

  As I raced around the building on the creaky catwalk, I wondered if the busy street could hear my racing heartbeat. And then I ran into Sevus. 

  He lurched awkwardly, but I didn’t have time to feel sorry for him. “What are you doing?” I asked frantically, as both Charge and the Nefnat eyed the stairwell. Captain Rigg and Xander peered out from behind me, also looking at the stairs that descended into the next sub-level. 

  Charge shook his head, trying to take a step back. “I’m not walking on that, it doesn’t look safe.” 

  I grabbed the small Secodack’s cloak and pushed him down. “You don’t have the luxury of being safe–" I shouted after him. “Get going!” 

  Sevus followed his crew member in a heartbeat, and I didn’t know if that’s because he finally found the courage to or he was afraid I might grab his cloak and push him down the stairs, too. I left him to wonder. 

   Next, Xander jumped down the first few stairs, landing on his good leg and scrambling after his crew just as Captain Rigg and I looked behind us. 

  Tarik and Zara flew around the corner of the tavern building, angry sounds of shouting Covienians following them. Tarik’s loose jacket sleeve flapped freely in the breeze as she ran, but the old lady didn’t seem to mind. They didn’t stop as they passed me and Captain Rigg– apparently actively getting chased pushed thoughts of structural integrity out of one’s mind. 

  I heard the stairway creak under the weight of seven people, and Captain Rigg was a few steps down before he, too, paused, one ear twitching as he listened to protesting metal. 

  “That doesn’t sound good,” he said, his voice low with mistrust.

  I nodded, readjusting the sack of weapons over my shoulder with a swallow before I hurriedly followed him. “Trust me, it’s all a part of my plan, Captain.” 

  “Oh, Evering help us,” Captain Rigg murmured, but he didn’t slow his pace. That showed at least a small level of faith in my plans, or the walkway– I voted for the former, but it didn’t matter. 

  Even I knew what I was about to do was stupid. 

 The sound of angry mechanics above us got louder as we descended down the snaking metal, and all I could think of was getting chased by the very same mechanics only a few days ago for stealing an arm. But that hadn't been in The Shaft, that was on Market Street. And I wasn't alone this time, either. 

  Somehow, that made the experience less panic-induced. 

 After the stairs, we came to a bridge that went over the street below, and then attached to the opposite building. 

  With my bad idea becoming more and more of a reality, I looked up and down the street. This one was a little less busy. 

  Good, I thought, I didn’t want to hurt anyone. 

  I shouted at the back of the group, “Over this walkway, and you can get to the ground– and don’t wait for me!” 

  There was very little argument. 

  The roar and hum of pacers and Haulers zooming past on the road below drowned out all my thoughts, giving me room to focus on the one idea I just knew was my worst. 

  The Passerine crew leapt across the walkway, and I waited until Captain Rigg had reached the other side before I stepped onto it myself and started kicking the first support on the bridge. 

  There looked to be about ten of them– thick, rusty metallic supports that suspended the bridge from two heavy metal beams above the walkway itself– set straight into the sides of the adjacent buildings. 

  Five supports on each side– but if I was right, I’d only have to snap two. 

  The first one took one literal kick from my boot. Rust crumbled away and fell onto a passing Hauler, and I nearly lost my balance into the Liskian street below. 

  The second support took more than one kick. I heard footsteps draw closer. 

  I kicked it again. 

  The footsteps were even closer now, and I could hear voices. 

  Another kick. 

It only moved an inch. 

  Panic started to set in, even though I told myself that emotion wouldn’t help right now. The electricity of the vehicles below started swelling up into my head, into my hands, and into my veins. I shook myself to clear it. Not now! Whatever is happening, not now!

  I took a deep breath in, gritting my teeth as I readjusted the canvas bag over my shoulder, and gave the support one last, desperate kick. 

  I was so happy when the support fell away that I almost forgot the second part of my plan:

  Running. 

  I turned on my heel just as the second set of supports snapped in two. My own weight on the walkway, combined with the one unbalanced, drooping side of the bridge, was enough to start dragging the heavy metal down into gravity's relentless grasp. 

  I knew it was going to be fast, but not as fast as this. I started to feel the walkway tilt backwards as I ran– not a feeling I ever wanted to relive. 

  I passed the fourth and third supports, the stress of the falling bridge enough to snap them both at once. I had to put my hands up to shield my eyes from the shards of weakened metal, speeding past the fifth set of supports just as the entire floor under me fell away into the street. 

I jumped from the collapsing walkway as the sound of Haulers hitting their brakes screeched below me, and the bridge hit the pavement in an agonised scream of metal on metal. 

Please don’t hit them, I pleaded to the universe. 

  It would have been a wonderfully epic move, jumping off the falling bridge and landing majestically on the other side– but I wasn’t so lucky. Like a boiled potato falling from a great height, I smacked onto the next walkway, losing my grip on the canvas bag and falling in a heap onto the metal grate. The bag clattered next to me, spilling its contents wide. 

  I pushed myself to my hands and knees shakily, blinking to clear my head. Glad the Passerine wasn’t here to watch me trip over myself, I thought. That would have been so embarrassing. 

“What the…” Zara said above me, her voice shaky for once. 

  I looked up to six pairs of eyes.  Zara stood with her mouth agape at the missing walkway, with Sevus fearfully eyeing the Haulers below us. Captain Rigg looked down at me, seeing what had spilled from the canvas bag. 

  “UGH– you went back for the bread rolls?” he demanded. “That’s why that mechanic caught you?” 

  Still on the ground, I looked up, my voice pained and panicked. “Well, I couldn’t just leave them there!” Suddenly I felt more than embarrassed. “I thought I told you guys to get to the ground!” 

  Xander rested his crutch against the railing and reached down, lifting me off the ground with a grin. “We do not take orders from you, but nice try,  little Geo.” He dusted off my poncho, beaming. “That was very cool.”

  “Oh,” Sevus exclaimed pleasantly, leaning down and picking up a bread roll. His hands were shaking, and he was very obviously not looking at the missing walkway. “Carbs and s-sugars. A perfect food for a s-stressful adventure.” 

 Charge, meanwhile, neared the edge of the walkway, peering over the edge with his suspicious orange eyes. “Ain’t no bread roll gonna fix that adventure,”  the small Secodack said with a look of disdain at the poor architecture.. “I stand, uh- absolutely vindicated.”

  I grabbed the canvas bag, stuffing the rolls back in. “We need to hurry– there’s another way for them to follow us–” 

  I was interrupted by angry voices, and we all looked across the gap of the broken walkway to where Lev stood angrily among his clamouring mechanics. He held the side of his head like it hurt– a lot.

  “You better watch yourself!” he shouted, even though it seemed like the noise pained him greatly. “You can run all you want– but you can’t hide forever, Offworlder!” 

  I turned my back on Lev, pushing my way through the Passerine crew. 

  They didn’t know he wasn’t talking to them. 

  “Come on, there’s another way they can get down on that side, and once they find it, they’ll be here in a second. We need to get out of here.” 

  Captain Rigg ran to catch up with me on the walkway as I started to descend the stairs to ground level. “Where are we going?” 

  I sniffed, the action more painful than I thought it would have been. Was my nose broken? Probably not. Lewis had said I was a wimp, but I said it takes one to know one. He also said I didn’t take my injuries seriously enough– so, go figure on that one. 

  “Miss West?” Captain Rigg said again as we neared the end of the stars. 

Oh, right! I remembered, he had asked me a question. 

  “Where…” I echoed reluctantly, “are we going?” At the base of the stairs, I watched the rest of the Passerine descend warily, but quickly. Captain Rigg stood on the other side of the stairs, frowning at me. 

Oh man. I had just won back my good standing with Captain Rigg– now I was going to lose it.  

  “There’s… someone I used to work for, like… a long time ago,” I told the captain. “He’s a… good Covienian.” That wasn’t quite true, but he had never been unfair to me, so that put him above all the other employers I had worked for.

  Captain Rigg raised an eyebrow as Charge sprung down the stairs. “‘Good Covienian?’” the Fletric repeated sourly. 

  I rewarded the comment with a shrug. I didn't have anything else to say that wouldn't result in another argument, so I remained silent. He didn’t have to follow me if he didn’t want to. 

  The alley we had descended into was full of trash bins and crates, all tossed into the street by the back and side doors to shops that fronted the building. Racing to the corner, I peered around the concrete warily from behind a few empty crates. 

  In the main street, I saw exactly where we wanted to go. I pointed to the large tunnel that would take us further into the mountain, and even lower down .

  “In there– we need to get to the next level down. My friend can hide us there for a few hours.” There were a few Haulers chuffing past now, so I settled down to wait as the Passerine all assembled behind me, breathing heavily. 

   A few of them also peered around the corner to look. Xander made a noise of surprise. “Why don’t we just go back up to the hangars?” 

  “Because some idiot would slow us down with their dumb broken leg,” Zara said, more annoyed than usual. “Next time you pick a fight with a planet-side mafia, don’t tear your ankle ligament right after.” 

  Xander muttered under his breath, “No one plans on getting injured.” 

  “Your problem is you don’t plan anything,” Captain Rigg said curtly.

  Wearing an expression like she had just remember something important, Zara craned her neck to find Sevus at the back of the group. “Oh damn– Hey– how about you? You okay?” the medic asked, sounding more worried than usual. 

  The Nefnat nodded hurriedly, looking slightly ashen, but alive, I guess. “Fine. I’m fine,” he answered in a shaky breath.

  The sound of shouting neared the opposite end of the alley, and a Hauler passed the corner up the street. I pointed with my hand. “Okay, Now– let's go, lets go–” 

   In an awkward shuffle, we sprung from the alley and descended the sharp, narrow tunnel into the next level, like a small flock of startled birds. The tunnel was meant for Haulers and pacers, so there were no more stairs– something I was sure Xander was grateful for. 

  “Who exactly are you taking us to?” Captain Rigg asked, looking up at the dripping tunnel roof as neon yellow lights flickered in electrical agitation. 

  I laughed in a whisper, my lungs starting to ache with all the running. “Well, he’s a friend.” I opened up the canvas bag as we ran, pulling out Captain Rigg’s Pulsers and handing them to him. 

  Captain Rigg seemed a little too sombre-faced as he buckled the holster belt around his waist. “I know. You’ve said.” 

  “Okay, he’s a smuggler– but a planet-side one,” I said at last, my heart beating fast as the sound of angry Covienians started echoing into the tunnel. I pulled out the vial of liquid Charge had, frowning at it warily. 

Behind me, Charge gave a small whoop. “Hey, it didn’t explode!” 

  I passed it back to him with a worried frown, trying not to jostle it. I decided to give all of Zara’s knives back to her when we weren’t running down a steep tunnel-street, and put the bag back over my shoulder. 

  I glanced at Captain Rigg as I ran, trying to talk normally, but I was out of breath.

“I used to help him… transport boxes… up to Market Street, to his parlour… but he’s got warehouses… all over Lisk. A few hangars, too. He’s– probably not even here, right now.” 

  The tunnel ran out just as we found ourselves on level ground again, and the street we were now on was completely devoid of life. A simple grid of warehouses, literally nothing more– no stall owners, no surface shops, not even a general store. This level was right below The Shaft, and it was where most Grey Market activity took place. 

  There was no one on the streets at this hour, but small glows of green or yellow light could be seen from a handful of barred windows or from under large rolling doors. 

  “Cheery,” Zara remarked tonelessly. 

  Captain Rigg grunted in agreement. “Black market district if I ever saw one,” I heard him mutter beside me. 

  A minute later, Charge caught up to me as we ran. 

  “So you did know where the black market was,” he said in a breathless pant. “I was right.” 

  I didn’t look at him as I hefted the canvas bag higher on my shoulder. “This is Covien– everyone knows where Grey Market is,” I said, equally breathless as I turned into the next street.

  “Yes, but mechscrubbers especially,” Charge muttered behind me. 

  “And how do you know that?” I actually stopped running, turning to look back at the Secodack. “What exactly does an Engineer know about being a Mechcrubber– hm?”

  Silence was my answer, so I took that as a win as Charge looked away. I turned back around to keep searching for our destination. 

  All the warehouse doors were identical, but I knew what I was looking for. It had been ingrained into my head over the course of one of the toughest months of my existence. Getting lost down here, was, simply put, no fun at all– and it was easier to religiously keep to your course than to wander off and get mugged for water  in someone's illegal warehouse of Bot Parts–

   I had learned the hard way that that, also, was no fun. 

  One block up and to the left, a side lane appeared, seemingly filled with only trash bins. I skirted around a false front for a warehouse I knew held ‘bits of old machinery’, but it was a farce, and a good one. 

  I passed the alley window, seeing a crane shape in the warehouse with a tarpaulin over its neck. One that would never be sold– because it wasn’t actually a crane. 

  “I can hear those bloody mechanics,” Charge said, sounding angry as his large ears twitched unhappily. “They’ve reached the tunnel. Are you sure you have a place we can hide, Corporal Obvious?” 

  “Don’t worry,” I called quietly behind me as I hurried through the side lane. “They don’t know these levels like I do.”

  I stopped in the alley and turned to the building on my right. Two large slabs of metal hung from rusting hinges set into the warehouse wall, about two metres in front of me. They were the side doors into the real warehouse. 

  I muttered under my breath, walking up to the doors. “Now, for the hard part.” 

  “Really?” Charge said, “this is the hard part?” 

   I dismissed Charge's comment. “This will work… as long as Oli is in a good mood.” 

  “Oh, this is my favourite part of the day,” I heard Captain Rigg say behind me as I knocked on the metal door loudly. “Our survival depending on a Covienian’s ‘good mood’–’” Captain Rigg suddenly fell quiet.   

  I readied myself to test the doors and see if they were locked, but something stopped me– Captain Rigg’s hand on my shoulder. 

Slowly, he turned me around as the rest of the Passerine assembled behind him, wearing very serious expressions. 

  “Miss West…” the Fletric said cautiously, eyes flicking up to the side doors of the warehouse. He seemed panicked, and that wasn’t an emotion I was used to seeing on the stoic captain’s face. “What did you just say?” 

  Confused, I looked up at the captain with a tilt of my head. “I said ‘this will work only if he’s in a good mood'?” I repeated, gesturing behind me to the doors. “If the metal dealer is here, that is.” 

  Captain Rigg let go of my shoulder as the rest of the Passerine watched our exchange.

“No, not ‘he’... you said–” 

  The sound of iron drawbars sliding out of metal locks scraped through the damp mountain air, and a moment later, an older-looking Covienian pushed one of the doors out of place, peering down at the intruder on his step in the dim light of an off-yellow lantern.

   “Oli Preastigat!” I said with an enormous burst of relief.  “I’m so sorry for bothering you, Oli, but we’re in a Eth of a scramble– and I– I need your help, if you had some help to spare?”

   The metal dealer had blond, slicked-back hair, which seemed more golden from the bright yellow light that spilled from the warehouse. For only looking in his late thirties, he had a decent amount of silver in his hair, but he didn’t seem to care, which was just one of the contradictions of Oli Preastigat. The most prominent contradiction of the man’s character was his brightly patterned waistcoat, and his well used, somewhat ordinary, work boots. 

  He barely looked at the others in the street, wearing one of the most amused expressions an Organic could wear.   

  “Evren?” he asked, letting his hand fall from the door. “Why it's been phases since I’ve seen you ‘round.” Oli leaned down marginally, so he could study my face. “Hope there’s no hard feelings about being let go, girly– you know, I had some real nasty pieces of work coming to the parlour, and that’s no place for a young girl to work around, y’know? Kaes told me plain as day, he said ‘Oli, this business is no place for a girl like Evren,’ so I did as he told me–”

  I waved him off. “It’s okay Oli,  Del's took me on.” 

  Oli made a face of distaste as he straightened, stroking his chin like he had a beard.

“Hmm. Del, huh? That bloke’s a bit mental, love– totally bonkers.” 

  I tilted my head, waving his words away again. “Yeah, he loved his robot… a lot… before it got confiscated by the Evaluators– but that doesn’t matter,” I explained hurriedly. “Look, I know its been a while since I’ve seen you, but this is the Passerine; they’re a Freelance Merchant crew, and–”

  My explanation was cut short by the sound of a Pulser being primed with a sharp click.

  Looking behind me, I saw the barrel of Captain Rigg’s weapon. In a terrible moment of deja vu, I thought he was pointing it at me. With a breath of relief, I finally realised he was pointing it at Oli–

 Oh crap, I realised he was pointing it at Oli!

  I whipped around, standing in the way of the merchant’s gun. 

“Wooahhh, woah, now, Captain– don’t call the Ferryer!” I said as I put my hands up like I was the one being targeted. “I told you he’s a friend!” 

  Captain Rigg readjusted his aim at Oli despite my attempts to block it. “Miss West, step away from him.”

  I didn’t move. Instead, I frowned. “I told you Oli was a good Covienian–” 

  Captain Rigg didn’t look at me. “I think you need to redefine your description of good.” He kept his eyes on the metal dealer like someone would watch a serpent  in tall grass.

“Six days ago we came to this planet bringing seven crates of Flirin Metal and left them in what you call ‘The Warehouse District.’”

  “Yeah, and?” I asked.

  Looking back at Oli’s expression, I saw it had changed as he stared at the Fletric. He remained silent. Amused. Smug. 

  “Well, six days ago,” Captain Rigg continued darkly, “we were paid less than half of what we were owed by this short-changing son-of-a-witch. He threw me out of his parlour for trying to change his mind.” 

  I shut my eyes, waving my hands as if they could make the words go away, like pesky bugs around my head. “Wait-wait-wait– One: that’s why you were outside Oli’s parlour? And two:  you told me you guys weren’t smugglers.” I pointed a confused finger at the Passerine crew’s  general direction. 

  Xander shrugged. “It is not… a word we use?” 

  I looked back at Oli. “And three– Really? Shortchanging Offworlders? That’s low, Oli. Even for you.” 

  Oli spread his hands defensively. “What? The Astrostorm just ended and I needed to make ends meet. Rent in Market Street is getting mighty expensive, y’know. I was never supposed to see them again– which begs the obvious question,” –he looked back at me– “Why are they here, and what the hell are you doing with them?” 

  Captain Rigg laughed coldly, his Pulser still aimed at Oli’s head. “Wouldn’t you like to know… Unfortunately, me, my crew– and my maintenance hand– are leaving.” 

  I turned back around to the captain. “Well good luck hiding from Kovals by yourself, because I’m hiding here–”  I put a hand to my mouth hurriedly. “That wasn't supposed to sound so angry,” I mumbled as an apology. 

  “Kovals?” Oli burst out, and I turned around to look at him. “You got Kovals on your tail? Last I heard they were looking for the merchants who stole their–” Oli peered into the street at the rest of the Passerine, drawing lines and connecting dots I didn’t want him to. He looked back at me. “Or…the girl who stole the–”  He frowned. “Oi, now– don’t tell me you were one who stole from Kovals.” 

  I looked down. “Worse– I worked for them.” 

  Oli made a face of anguish. “Oh, you– why didn’t ya’just go and spit in Lou Koval’s eyeball and be done with it? Do you want to die, or somethin’?”

  I shook my head. “No, Oli. That’s… why I’m here.” I gestured behind me at the Passerine. “Them too, actually. Kovals found them and wants the Lightcore back. But it was their Lightcore first, and it’s already been primed and it’s in their freighter. We need to hide so they can sneak back to their hangar without being seen. Please Oli–” I pointed to Captain Rigg, who was still pointing his Pulser at Oli’s head.  “Maybe, you could say that you… kinda owe them one?” 

  Oli frowned. Up the street, there were sounds of warehouse doors being kicked in, and angry shouts of disappointment as our pursuers found no trace of us. 

  He looked back at me, and then at Captain Rigg “I don’t think your captain wants my help, love.”

  “No. He doesn’t,” Captain Rigg replied darkly.

  Oli shook his head. “Well, as you might know, I don’t like you, Mr. Rigg– but for Evren’s sake, I’m willing to hide your crew from Kovals ghouls.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Captain Rigg said angrily. “And as you might know, I don’t like you, either.”

 Oli spread his hands. “Well, the way I see it, you got two options; one, stay out here in this street and get beaten bloody by a grey market gang of mechanics, or let Oli Preastigat help you hide from one of the most dangerous organisations in Lisk.”

  Captain Rigg glared at the Covienian, his ears twitching back in some very unhappy emotions. The sounds of the Covienians were getting closer.

“Why the hell would I trust you?” the Fletric challenged quietly.

  Oli shrugged, unbothered. “I got no answer for that one.”

  But I did. 

  I turned around to face Captain Rigg fully, taking a breath. 

  “Because I do. I trust him.” 

  Captain Rigg looked back at his crew, swearing soundlessly under his breath. After a moment of deliberation, he turned back to the metal dealer, holstering his Pulser unhappily.

   “Where do we hide?”

  The deep mountain air was always colder, and that was something that had bothered Lev in the past. But tonight, he didn’t mind so much– in fact, if Lev had been thinking more clearly, he would have thanked the Ferryer for the chill in the air that cooled his aching head. But Lev Koval was too busy trying not to throw up to be thankful. 

  Running did not, in any way, alleviate the pressure on the side of his head. 

  Emerging from another empty warehouse, Lev glared at the deceivingly quiet level as his head throbbed.

He was going to kill that Fletric. 

  A Flirin next to Lev seemed troubled as they both took off down the street. 

  “Shouldn’t we tell Kan that we found the girl?” his companion asked breathlessly. “She’d want to know about the Lightcore, too–” 

  “It’s not about the damn Lightcore!” Lev snapped as they passed a lifeless shell of what he knew to be a fake front for a Grey Market metal storehouse. “It’s about Lou, and his twisted little games–” Lev gestured through the air as he ran, his head pounding where the merchant captain had hit him with the wooden bowl. “Forget Kan and her wild whisp chase– we found the girl, and the Lightcore, and we’re gonna get them both back. Without Kan.” 

The answer seemed to satisfy his companion. But only for a moment. “But, won’t she know that we didn’t tell her?” 

  Lev gritted his teeth. “With any luck, Riq, it'll be too late before she finds out.” 

  Lev stopped in his tracks, back-stepping to look at the fake front of the warehouse.

There were lights on in the alley.

He made a motion to the other mechanics to be quiet, and obediently, they followed Lev into the side lane. 

  Beside Lev, the worried Flirin spoke again. “Are we even sure they went to this level?” 

  “Where else would they go?” Lev snapped in a whisper, looking back at the warehouse. “I know this warehouse. This is one of Preastigat's. And if I know Preastigat, I know he’d be the moron to cross my father in a situation like this.” 

  Pounding on the metal side doors, Lev Koval waited impatiently as he heard the lockbars draw out from their places inside the door. The metal slid into the wall to reveal the burly face of one of Oli Preastigat's bodyguards. 

  Wordless for a moment, the man eyed the newcomers. “Little late for you boys to be wandering around these parts,” the guard said. 

  “We’re here on Kovals business,” Lev declared. “We’re searching the warehouses for a Freelance Merchant crew causing trouble in the Upper Levels.” 

 The bodyguard had unnatural, somewhat alarmingly green eyes that resembled the colour of old chemical waste in the abandoned Surface Side refineries. If Lev had to guess, they were either implants, or lenses enhanced to give the guard some kind of upper hand in a fight. 

   “I can’t let you do that, boy,” the guard said gruffly. “No one enters this warehouse without Preastigat’s explicit permission.” 

  Lev tried to look past the guard. “Well, then– where is he? You wouldn’t be down  here without him, so let me see him!” 

 Before the guard could answer, a voice from inside the storehouse interrupted the conversation.

   “Kaes, Kaes, Kaes,” the voice said in mock disappointment behind the guard. “Let young Mr. Koval through. No need to detain him.” 

  Lev shoved past the bodyguard. “Get out of my way–” he muttered.  He wasn't two steps into the warehouse before he found himself face to face with Oli Preastigat. 

  Preastigat was a tall Covienian, reaching over seven feet. It put him at about half a foot taller than Lev, but Lev knew it meant nothing. Lev was the son of one of the most powerful men on Covien. He didn’t need to be tall, he needed to be assuming– and arrogant, if he had to be. 

  “Young Master Koval.” Oli bowed theatrically, putting a hexagonal timepiece into his waistcoat pocket like he had just been checking the time in boredom. “Why– what brings you lot to the humble storehouse of Oli Preastigat’?”   

Lev stiffened. “I’m searching for troublemakers. Thieves. Offworlders we’ve been having trouble with this interphase. We know they're down here, and we need to search each warehouse.” 

  Oli assumed an expression of shock. Lev found it hard to believe it was sincere, but the man was so flamboyant it was hard to tell if any of his emotions were sincere. 

  “Oli Preastigat?” Oli asked, aghast. “Hiding enemies of Lou Keda Koval himself? I don’t think so, chap– I would never mine on that side of the shaft. Ha, pun intended.” Oli turned around. “Kaes, you hear that one? Write it down, will ya’. It was good.”  

  As his head body guard took out a pen and small Data Tab, Oli turned back to his unwanted guest. 

  Lev frowned at him– either he was telling the truth, or he was lying. Believe Preastgat was telling the truth, and he could lose the merchants. Accuse Preastigat of lying, and he could anger a powerful ally of his father's. 

  Lev decided to do neither. “We need to look through this warehouse.” Lev stated firmly “We can do it with or without your permission.” 

  Oli spread his hands. “Seems I don’t much have a choice, eh? But if I was asked, I would have said ‘of course– to help Lou Koval? Anything.’ Who happens to bring so much business to Covien.” The metal dealer turned to one of his bodyguards. “Selki! Give this young man the tour, aye old boy? Then when he’s done–” Oli turned back to Lev, his smile fading coldly. “Show him out.” 

  The bodyguard, Selki, came and stood a step behind Lev, and the young mechanic fought the urge to look behind himself in fear after signing to two of his accompanying mechanics to search the warehouse.

Don’t be afraid, Lev thought as he stepped past Oli with a scowl. Don’t look scared– That’s what gives you away.

  He wasn't sure what he expected to see– maybe the entire merchant crew all huddled somewhere in a lame attempt to avoid him– but what he saw instead were concrete floors, and raw, stone pillars that stood sadly under the  low cavern ceiling. Uncut, jagged mountain rock looked down on a huge warehouse filled with about a hundred stacks of different types of metal. Lev found it hard to believe there was so much packed into one space, and this wasn’t even Preastigat’s only warehouse. Sheets of stone sat next to crates of metallic chips of raw elements, and poles sat snuggly to his left, wrapped in bendy, soft wire which he recognised as one of the most expensive bonding metals you could get on the Mech Upgrade market. 

  It was neat, it was tidy, and it was completely devoid of organic life. 

  The worried Flirin jogged back up to Lev. Empty, he signed in slang-sign. Not a sign of anyone.

  Lev turned on his heel and stormed past Preastigat towards the door. 

  “Hope you find what you’re looking for!” Oli called after him. “Bit of a pity, innit? To search through this entire level for nothing, eh?”

  Lev ignored the metal dealer’s words, directing himself towards the exit of the warehouse. 

  “If only you had asked for someone’s help,” Oli shouted with an air of amusement, “instead of barging in here like a bloody lunatic.” 

  Lev froze in his tracks. Behind him, his mechanics followed suit. The young man turned, eyeing the metal dealer across the warehouse. 

  “What do you mean?” 

  Oli shrugged, suddenly as innocent as a moth. “Why, I don’t know– maybe if you was to just, make it worth someone’s while… they’d be more inclined to help you.” 

  With a frown, Lev took a small step forward. 

  “You’ve seen them?” the  mechanic asked coldly.. 

  Oli’s smile was wide and fast. 

  “Better. I know where they’re hiding.” 

  “This is ridiculous,” I heard Charge whisper for the thirtieth time. “We didn’t  get to finish our soup; we got caught out by Kovals, and now,” –the rest of the crew groaned quietly as the Secodack in question squirmed around unhappily– “we’re hiding in a scriking rubbish bin.” 

  “Shh!” Captain Rigg demanded quietly from the corner. “Do you want to get caught, Charge? Get over it.”

  With his face half- pressed into the metal wall, Charge made a noise of disgust. “I just– I can't– can’t breathe. Xasan, move your knee,  it’s poking me in the ribs–” 

  “Oh, yes, because being pressed up against you is a personal choice,” Zara hissed with a sarcastic scowl.  “Trust me, buddy– if I could move, I would.” 

  “Everyone, be quiet,” Captain Rigg whispered again, silencing the fidgeting. “They’re  still looking for us, so shut up and stop moving.”

  Shoved into a corner, I clutched the canvas bag nervously. There was next to no light in Oli Preastigat’s rubbish bin, save for what came through the thin gap between the lid and the bin wall. 

  It took them all some rapid convincing, but Oli was kind enough to lend us one of his empty rubbish bins to hide in. He even locked the bin after us. I mean, I know Captain Rigg had some trouble with Oli, but I thought that was a very kind gesture.

  Last time I had to hide from an organisation that was trying to kill me, Web had shoved me into a rubbish bin, too– but I felt like I didn’t appreciate how much room I had in that one.

Everything was dark inside the cramped space, but after about five minutes, I was able to see just how uncomfortable everyone really was. Including myself. I shifted uncomfortably– I’m pretty sure it was Sevus’s boot that I was sitting on. 

  “Once Kovals is gone, I can take you to a small lift two blocks over.” I looked up at the bin lid as I whispered. "It connects to the maintenance tunnels for the ventilation system. I can get you up to the hangars like that without being seen by anyone.”

  Captain Rigg nodded curtly on the other side of the bin. No one was as unhappy as he was about Oli Preastigat’s genius hiding place for desperate runaways. I could barely make out his bitter expression, but I could see that Captain Rigg had to draw his knees up to his chest snuggly to fit inside our hideaway. 

  Despite our pressing circumstances, I took a moment to mentally remark that that looked funny.  

  “Sounds good.” Captain Rigg’s voice was cold. “We just need to make sure they don’t know where our hangar is by using the lifts– we can walk back if we have to.”

  “Gods, I hate this planet,” Charge complained again, “so many scriking stairs. And nothing is made Secodack size, especially not the stairs– ” 

  From somewhere at the back of the bin, Xander groaned. The large Geodian had to lie sideways because of his height, with Charge and Zara sitting on his legs. “Ugh, no more walking… I cannot take more running–” 

  “You’ll do what's best for the crew,” Captain Rigg snapped in the semi-darkness. “That’s what you like doing, right?” Rustling clothes told me that Captain Rigg had twisted to look at Xander, although I’m not sure what for– it was as dark at Eth inside the rubbish bin. “You know, if it wasn’t for you and Charge, we wouldn’t be in this mess– so you two can stop complaining.”

  “Wha– what does this have to do with me?” Charge protested squeakily. 

  “You two stole the Lightcore,” Captain Rigg replied instantly. A few seconds of quiet followed before the Fletric spoke again. “You… you went back and stole the Lightcore… and you stole it without me.” 

  In the silence that followed, Charge shifted uncomfortably on Xander’s leg. 

  “Without you?” the Secodack echoed. 

  Captain Rigg gestured uselessly in the cramped space. “What did you think I was going to do? Let us starve on this planet forever? Of course we were going to get the Lightcore from the mechanics. I was gonna come back and make a plan– because I knew you two were gonna make a mess of it–” Scoffing, the Fletric turned back to the wall of the bin a few inches from his face. “But you went and did it without me. I told you to wait, and you rushed in like a bunch of  graceless Neburays. Now look where we are:  inside Oli Preatigat’s trash bins.” 

  There was a long, awkward pause. The only sound was Tarik shifting uncomfortably in her place, and her audible breathing. I wondered if she wanted her arm back, but something told me this wasn’t the right time to ask. 

  Xander’s muffled voice finally emanated from the back of the bin. “I… was not aware we hurt your feelings, Captain.” 

  “Well, you did!” Captain Rigg whispered forcefully, folding his arms tightly around his knees again. “And to top it all off, you lied about what happened afterwards–” Captain Rigg gestured to me. “And I had to hear the truth from Miss West. You didn’t fall over; you were attacked again, and you still kept it from me.” 

  In the dim light, several pairs of eyes swung to where I still clutched the bag of weapons. 

   Most of them couldn't see his face, but I saw Captain Rigg’s silhouette look down darkly. “If you two could have just slowed down, we could have avoided all of this.”

  Charge’s voice held tones of guilt when he answered Captain Rigg. “We… We didn’t know you would help us. We thought you wouldn’t listen because…” Charge trailed off. 

  The obvious end of his statement was enough to warrant a sigh from Captain Rigg. 

  Zara slapped Xander’s shoulder, which, apart from his head, was pretty much the only part of the  Geodian that wasn’t being sat on. 

  Xander cleared his throat at Zara’s 'prompting'. 

  “Well, in the future… we will…. be more careful to…” 

  There was another sound of someone being slapped, and Charge squeaked in protest.

“Ow! Ok, ok! Uh... we’ll be more… careful… to listen to you, Captain.” 

  Two more slaps followed. 

  “We’re sorry,” the two merchants said in unhappy unison.  

  The seconds dragged by as silence filled the empty spaces in the bin.

  After a moment, Xander cleared his throat. 

  “Would you have really helped us steal it back, Captain?”

  Captain Rigg was silent for a moment as I looked at him from my place in the corner. I wasn't even a part of this crew, but I waited for his answer intently, because I had been wondering the same thing. I knew it was none of my business, but Captain Rigg was a man of many contradictions– he wanted to help his crew, but somehow, no one else. He thought himself better than a Covienian, but he seemed to fit right along with them. He told me he didn't want me to help him in the slightest, but here we all sat, in the middle of an Evren West Original Desperate Escape Plan. 

  Had he really planned on helping his crew get their Lightcore back? Or would he have just suffered until the situation got so unbearable that he was forced to step in– like in the tavern this evening?

  I watched as a quiet expression of regret passed over his features, overtaken by a sad look of acceptance– answering my silent questions before he began to speak. 

  “I would do anything to keep you all safe– that’s my job,” Captain Rigg began, looking up. “I'm.. . sorry that you feel like you can't trust me to look after you like I said I would. That’s… not on you. That’s on me.”

  Rubbing his forehead, Captain Rigg closed his eyes in an expression I had seen Lewis’s faceplate make several times before. I hadn’t known what to call it at first, but I realised it was a very particular disappointment– a disappointment you could only ever have with yourself. 

  “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around. I guess you could say I’ve been… struggling. I didn’t rush to go get the Lightcore back, because… people don’t treat Freelance Merchants the way they used to be treated– and that’s scary. We got shortchanged, backhanded, and cheated out of the last four contracts– so you could say I’m a little tired of being lied to.” 

  I felt Captain Rigg’s eyes flick to mine momentarily. “But… again, that's not on you.” 

  Rubbing his face, Captain Rigg continued morosely. “I’m not entirely sure we can keep doing things like we used to. I don’t think you guys realise how different the world is now. Or how dangerous.” He dropped his hands from his face tiredly, looking at the bin wall.

  “I get frustrated, and angry, and so, so... tired, because... I don't think you guys understand how fast the Kosmoverse is changing.” 

  A gentle, timid kind of voice interrupted Captain Rigg’s sombre pouting. 

  “We do, Aster…” Sevus spoke, his voice sounding terribly defeated and sad. “And… we always have.” 

   Captain Rigg looked up in the silence that followed, expressionless. 

  Zara shifted, breaking the temporary silence. “We… always knew the universe was gonna change after the war, Aster. We knew it was going to be hard.” 

  “Is that not why we stayed together?” Xander asked at the back of the bin, but his voice was less confident, and more quiet– it took me by surprise to hear the ex-gladiator so unsure. 

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Captain Rigg made a quiet sound of amusement, looking back down. “Can't navigate this hell-hole of a universe alone, can we?”

  “No, sir,” Zara said, and then after a moment waved her hand through the cramped air. “Besides, I don't know how to fly a transport.” 

  Captain Rigg turned a baleful eye towards her direction. “You're not allowed.” 

  Something told me by the tone of Zara’s voice– and the noise of protest from Charge– that the skinny Avaiyyatian had stretched out. “That's alright, sir. This is what I signed up for; stitching you morons back together and hiding in trash bins.” 

  For the first time, I heard Captain Rigg laugh quietly. Cold, and somewhat unpracticed, but a laugh nonetheless. “I’ll get Sevus to re-write your contract after Preastigat opens this damn lid.” 

  The Fletric reached a hand up as if to test the lid, but it remained secured. Captain Rigg then looked over at me, taking his arm down slowly. 

  “Why do you trust Oli Preastigat, Miss West?” Captain Rigg asked me with a frown. “You didn’t grow up here, so it certainly isn’t a sense of loyalty to your own kind.” 

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

  The Fletric didn’t seem happy to concede on the other side of the trash bin. “But… you said you trusted him?” 

  I shook my head, “I don’t. At least, not all the way. He's not evil, just rather selfish, really.” I looked up at the roof of the bin. “For all I know, he could be alerting the Liskian Ranger that he’s caught some trouble-making Offworlders, and he locked the bin to keep us here.” 

  Captain Rigg’s face paled to a hilarious shade of horror. “Then why in the blessed Evering did you say you trusted him?” 

  I laughed. “Because I’m more scared of Lou Koval than I am of Oli Preastigat. Oli had a place for us to hide– and I trusted him enough to use it– but after that? I wasn't so sure.” 

  I reached into the canvas bag, feeling around the folds of fabric and all of Zara's knives carefully. “I guess you can say that on this planet, you have to choose,” I muttered under my breath. “And it’s not a matter of choosing where you’re safe over where you’re in danger– it’s just a matter of how much danger you want to be in.” I looked up at Captain Rigg, who was watching me with his inexpressive mask of disappointment. 

  With a smile, I pulled out the coil of wire I had collected a few days ago. “You can never really escape bad people on Covien.” I handed the coil of wire to Charge. “But you can choose which ones you think are better than the others– I choose the ones that are struggling as much as I am.” 

  Charge took the wire hesitantly as I nodded to the lid. “You think you can get us out of here with that, Mr Engineer?” 

  The young Secodack scoffed. “You might as well have handed me a key.” 

  Shuffling forward and pushing past Captain Rigg, Charge uncoiled the wire and started feeding it through the thin gap between the bin and its lid. 

  Captain Rigg looked at me as Charge shaped the wire, pulling and twisting it carefully with muted mutters. 

  “So, what are we?” Captain Rigg asked. “The more safe, or the less bad?” 

   There was a soft clinking sound outside the bin. As Charge whooped quietly in self congratulations and pushed the lid up, I gave Captain Rigg a grin as light rushed into the previously darkened space. 

  “What do you think?” 

  Someone outside the bin made a noise of hurt.

We all looked up to where Oli Preastigat had his hands on his hips, looking down at his open trash bin with a sad look of disapproval. 

  “You didn’t think I would let you out?” Oli crowed unenthusiastically. “Now, now– that hurts my feelings.” 

Captain Rigg and I shared a surprised expression. 

  Captain Rigg was the first one out of the bin, a breathless Tarik nanoseconds behind him. The Fletric landed on the other side and looked up at Oli, standing nearly a head shorter than the metal dealer.

  “Maybe there’s reason to think you don’t exactly keep your word, Preastigat.”

  As I stood up in the bin and readied to jump over the ledge myself, I heard Oli chuckle. 

“Oh, he likes to hold a grudge. You’d make a fine Covienian, Mr Rigg.”

    Captain Rigg rolled his eyes, turning to survey the alley for Kovals mechanics. “Like Eth I would,” I heard him mutter as he took a Pulser from his holster. 

    Oli offered his hand as I perched on the side of the bin, and I took it gratefully. 

  “So, mechscrubber to maintenance hand, eh?” the metal dealer asked as I landed on the alley floor shakily. “That’s a jump and a half, init?” 

  Staring up at Oli, my heart skipped a beat. No! 

  It wasn't a nanosecond later that I heard Charge’s intake of breath from atop the trash bin ledge.

  “I freaking knew it!” A loud crash followed his words. 

  I turned just in time to see him jump back to his feet in a fluster. It looked like he didn’t have as good of grip on the ledge as he thought he did. 

  “I knew it! I knew it!” Charge repeated, dusting himself off angrily. “And you just pretended you weren’t– but you were! And I said to Xander when we saw you at the Registry that you looked like a mechscrubber, but he said ‘that was rude’  but you know what? I was right. And what do you know? You show'd up as a maintenance hand, after you sent us to Kovals.” 

  I gave Oli a withering look. 

  He lost his smile. “Oh,” he said, taking a step back, “So, they didn’t know?” 

  Xander tumbled out of the bin next. “Actually, we did,” He said rather pointedly as he grabbed his crutch from Sevus. 

  Zara swung gracefully from the ledge and landed on the ground like the action hadn’t cost her any effort at all. “No,” she said, levelling an angry squint at Xander. “We didn’t.” 

  Sevus was the only one that left the bin like a normal person– with a little bit of struggling. “What… Evren’s not a maintenance hand?” he asked, worried. He looked at me, catlike eyes full of confusion. “But… you said that you were?” 

  Captain Rigg and Xander exchanged a glance. The rest of the Passerine seemed confused or angry.

  Shrugging, I decided it was time for a moment of defeat. 

  “Okay, so I lied.” I spread my hands, looking up pleadingly. “I’m just as bad as a Covienian.” I looked behind me dejectedly at the metal dealer “No offence, Oli.” 

  He shrugged, as unbothered as he always seemed. 

  “But Xander said he found you at a workshop–” Sevus was trying to puzzle out, rubbing his hands as he tried to wrap his anxious thoughts around this new piece of information. “I don’t– I don't understand.” 

  I sighed. I knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. “Look, Xander didn’t find me at a workshop. I found Xander getting chased by Kovals a few hours after I told Charge and him where to find their Lightcore. They were looking for it at the Registry, and I was there… because… I was there…” I pulled my ticket out of my pocket, and it sent a happy little blue glow into the alley. “–trying to get offworld.” 

  Putting the ticket into my pocket, I shrugged again unhappily. “But I found out that even with a ticket– which cost me everything– I still needed to pay the Vien Laneway tax, which is–” 

  “Seventy five Disks…” Zara finished for me slowly. 

  “Yeah,” I started again. “Seventy five Disks. So when I was helping Xander back to his hangar, and he mentioned his crew needed someone to help them while in port, I… I felt like I had to say yes. It was the answer to all my problems– the answer to getting offworld– to see my family! And I had no idea that Xander’s captain was the Fletric I accidently pushed over on Firstday. So when he came back and tried to fire me… and I threatened to hand you all in Kovals– I didn’t want to do that! I was just… so scared of losing the chance to get offworld, that I...” I looked up at their faces, all pensive. I gave up, rubbing my arm worriedly. The bandages seemed looser, but I was so upset I didn’t have the energy to check them. 

“Uh, just forget it. Oli’s right. I was a mechscrubber up until the day I accidentally dropped a Bot arm on Captain Rigg while running from their mechanics. It wasn’t a brave thing, or a noble thing that got me fired, I was just trying to help a friend. In a really, really dumb way.” 

  Sevus was confused. “What happened?”

  I went to speak, but Oli was the one that answered him.

“What happened was that Evren was the only one in Lisk that was man enough to spit on Lou Koval’s crackers.” Next to me, Oli gave me an approving nod. “She stole back what wasn’t theirs– a Bot arm– even though it cost her her livelihood. If that’s not brave, I don’t know what is.” 

  Looking up at the old metal dealer, I was surprised to see him on my side. Was he even… somewhat proud of me? Oli saw my look and straightened, looking away. “Still stupid, though,” he said. 

  I sighed. Having the approval of an adult was just too good to be true. 

  “Why would Kovals care if one Bot arm got stolen?” Zara was asking me, confused. She looked at Charge. “Didn’t you say their organisation was huge?” 

  Again, Oli explained so I didn’t have to. I felt thankful. 

  “Because Lou Koval is a horse of a man, who don’t think like you or me. Everything is power to him. He steals the arm of a Servant Bot, and a street urchin steals it back– that don’t look too good no matter which way you slice it, Avaiy.” Oli turned to me again. “They’ve been searching high and low for you for days. I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve been seen.” 

  I gestured with my thumb to the Passerine behind me. “I’ve been with them.” 

  Oli’s eyes looked to my right hand as I gestured. For a moment too long, his eyes lingered on the bandages.

   He blinked, finally looking at the Passerine. I thought he would register some kind of relief, but he seemed troubled. Straightening, he looked at each of the Passerine members as he talked. “Then you best be off. I told Kovals you lot was hiding down in the Deep Throat– the abandoned mines below The Shaft. That should give you a generous window to book it to the hangars.” 

  Captain Rigg looked to the end of the alley, and then back at Oli. He hesitated a moment before inclining his head in the metal dealer's direction. 

  “Preastigat,” he said simply, and then left. 

  The rest of his crew followed him out of the alley. Sevus was the only one that lingered a moment. 

  “Thank you… for hiding us…” Sevus said as he wrung his hands. 

  Oli nodded, eyeing Sevus strangely. “Anytime, Nefnat.” 

  Sevus hurried away, like the word had scared him, and Oli looked to me and shrugged.

“Bit jumpy, isn’t he? I thought they were all supposed to be heartless killing machines?” 

  I watched Sevus go. “Not this one, apparently.” 

  I saw Captain Rigg stand in the mouth of the alley, watching his crew go by, one by one. 

  When they were gone, and he was still standing there, it took me a moment to realise he was waiting for me. 

  Oh right, it was my job to get them out of The Shaft. 

  I turned to Oli, hoisting the canvas bag onto my shoulder with my right hand, “Well, thank you for not turning us in. You're a good person, Oli…” I gave him a small salute, turning. “I should probably go now, and make sure they don’t get lost–” 

  “So Kovals ain’t the only one you've been hiding from, eh girl?” Oli interrupted me.

   Like frost had sprung up from the metal beneath my shoes, I froze to the ground. Slowly, I looked back at Oli. We each wore an equally serious look.

  Oli held up his right hand, pointing to it. I looked down to my own right hand, and saw that the bandages had come undone. The electricity-like scars on my palm showed as plain as day.

  I wrapped it up in a panic, looking back at Oli quickly. Do I run? Do I hide? Had he already told Gray Raven? Was he one of their agents?

  The fear I felt dripped away as Oli give me a knowing smile. He put his right index finger to his lips. 

  “You better get those seventy five Disks, and get them fast,” he whispered quietly, eyes flicking to the where a merchant captain watched us both intensely, but couldn't hear our words.

  “But that’s not the only reason you should be careful, girl,” the metal dealer said under his breath, his voice muted as if he didn’t want it to carry far.

  I found the usual flamboyant mask of amusement and the mockery completely gone from Oli’s face. He was serious; humourless; stern. 

  He shifted in the low light of the alley.  

  “I don't know how to say this… but Aster Rigg is a dangerous man. And trouble follows him like a bad, bad omen.” Frowning, Oli gestured to himself as he explained. “I was a soldier for the Blue Fringe Alliance. Four years– and… and I heard the stories of General Rigg.” 

  I wanted to turn around and check to see if Captain Rigg was still watching at the mouth of the alley, but I forced myself to keep looking at the old metal dealer. “What do you mean?” I asked, almost in a whisper. 

  “There was an accident. Something terrible happened to his family. Something made him snap, but something was always wrong with him. Some people say he’s not even Furlian– that he’s some kind of demon mixling.” 

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered forcefully. “I’ve just spent an interphase with that crew. They’re simple Offworlders, not demon spawn.”  

  Oli Preastigat was shaking his head. “His crew? I don’t know. But him?” Oli spread his hands, his voice still low. “Well, I know enough– enough to warn you. My advice is to get those seventy five  Disks, and then split. The faster the better.” 

  Nothing Oli was saying made sense. Captain Rigg was grumpy, yes. But, evil? I didn’t think so. That didn’t feel right. Or did it? I was confused now. I wanted to refute Oli Preastigat, but the wariness I felt around captain Rigg rendered me silent. 

  I turned hesitantly, rubbing the back of my neck. “...Okay.”   

  Oli nodded, gesturing to the alley mouth. “Right then, off you pop. I won’t wish you good luck, cause there isn’t any here. But… gods above– survive, Evren. Get off this damn planet.” 

  He hesitated, his face darkening, and tone changing. A flicker of fear sprang into the air between us. “Don’t ever come back here, 'cause this is the last time I help you. If Gray Raven catches you now, it’s on you.” 

  I nodded, once, firmly and decidedly– “They won’t catch me.” And with that, I turned on my heel and ran down the alley. 

  So, I thought while I ran. Oli Preastigat knew I was the Astrostorm survivor? 

nAnd he didn’t tell Gray Raven? 

  I thought about the tavern in Upper Lisk– Rusty’s Tavern– when the Scavengers had taken the bandages off my arm, and people looked at me like I was a monster. Oli hadn't done that. The middle aged Covienian had treated me exactly as he had always done; Like I was a simple, somewhat stupid street urchin that was in need of some help. 

  I felt better. And I hadn't even known I was feeling bad. The knowledge that there was at least one good Covienian had lifted my spirits. I fingered the ticket as I ran. 

  They won’t catch me. They can’t. 

  “What did he want?” Captain Rigg asked me when I caught up to him. 

  I shrugged. “Just… telling me about the lifts,” I lied. “We gotta use the smaller one. Bigger one… uh– it's got an electricity leak.” 

  Captain Rigg looked behind him as we walked through the small, grey market level. 

“Right,” was all he said.

  It didn’t take a genius to know that Captain Rigg was not, in any way, convinced.