Stormcrow: Birds of a Feather
Author: N. C. Reed
Date: 2016-11-13 00:00:00+00:00
Description: How much trouble can a doctor's appointment be? It depends on whether you're a member of the space freighter Celia’s crew, and where the doctor is. When Captain Meredth Simmons decides to set down on Porto San Lucia, notorious for being the center of organized crime for most of the known galaxy, it's supposed to be for her husband (and the ship’s pilot), Lincoln Simmons to see an eye doctor, which sounds simple enough. Simple enough, that is, until a mob heiress is kidnapped while they are there, sending part of the crew on a desperate hunt for her kidnappers even as others are trying to unrav
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STORMCROW

BOOK TWO: BIRDS OF A FEATHER
by N.C. REED

Copyright 2016 by N.C. REED

All rights reserved

Cover photo modified and used by license.

Credit: Laura Roth/ Daniel Edwards

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, persons, businesses, and incidents is strictly coincidental. Locations are used only in the general sense and do not represent the real place in actuality.

ISBN: 978-0-692-80988-4

STORMCROW

Book Two: Birds of a Feather

By

N.C. REED

For the Ranger, The Clerk, and the Chef.

How I miss you all.

FROM THE AUTHOR

Stormcrow was an idea given form through other means years ago, at a time when I did not see a future where I was a published author. I bent the character to fit somewhere else and just had fun with it because that was all it would ever be; fun.

But a funny thing happened. Years after the Shade fell, I was suddenly a 'real' writer, with books for sale. Before I could blink it seemed like, I had a publisher, who took the raw material I had self-published and made it better. More.

It was at that point that I realized I could finally take Stormcrow and let him fly on his own. So here is the first installment of that flight in the life of the Stormcrow.

He's not in the Shade anymore.

NCR/BK

PROLOGUE

-

“Lucia, please. Let the guards go ahead and check things. That is what they are here for!”

The older woman of the pair tried to keep the exasperation from her voice but it was difficult at best. At worst, in times such as this, it was nearly impossible.

“Please,” the younger woman rolled her eyes. “We're in the mall for God's sake! Nothing's going to happen in a mall that Poppa owns, Elena. Now come on! Today is the day that Alfonso's is releasing their fall collections and I don't want to be late! If I am, then that bitch Marcia Blasconea will get the best selections and I'll never hear the end of it!”

Grumbling under her breath, Elena Cortino struggled to keep up with her younger charge. At nineteen, Lucia Delgado was legally and physically an adult, but. . .Elena sometimes thought her maturity level was still closer to a high school student.

It wasn't that she was dumb. Far from it in fact. Lucia was a very intelligent girl who could do pretty much anything she set her mind to. But as the only daughter of Jerome Delgado, she didn't have to do anything and so spent her days, and her father's money, chasing whatever flight of fancy happen to catch her attention. And nothing was more important to her than fashion.

Elena had tried to encourage the girl to turn that passion into a career in the fashion industry, but Lucia had just laughed in her face at the suggestion, telling her 'governess' that she was only interested in wearing the latest, not creating it. Elena had shook her head in exasperation and looked for something else to try and aim the girl at.

In truth, Lucia didn't have to pick a career. She'd never have to work a day in her life if she didn't want to. He father controlled a vast empire of less than legal activities that spanned the known galaxy, reaching from the inner sphere of the Commonwealth to the outer rim colonies that had so recently been crushed beneath the Commonwealth Navy and Marines.

In addition to the under the table businesses the family owned or controlled, there was an equally impressive legitimate business conglomerate that was even more lucrative and just as wide spread. It often struck Elena as obscene that one family could possibly control so much, but she could not complain about it. Don Delgado treated Elena as if she were his own family and she wanted for nothing. She knew for a fact that no one who worked for him ever went in need, regardless of what that need might be. His people had access to the best healthcare, the best living accommodations, even an excellent retirement plan.

Those who took care of his less than legal activities and fell in the performance of their 'family' duties, knew that their own families would be well cared for in their absence. Children would be fed, clothed and housed at the Don's expense, given an excellent education, and when the time came would be offered the opportunity to work for the Delgado family themselves. Key word being 'offered'. The benefit packages for survivors was a no-strings attached deal; if they wanted to go elsewhere, they could do so with the Don's complete blessing.

None of which made Elena's job any easier. At forty-five, she had served the Delgado family as Lucia's governess since the day the child came into the world, entering the home of the Delgado's the very day they had welcomed the child into that same home, delivered in their own family clinic on the grounds of their estate. Since that day, Elena Cortino had been the primary care giver for Lucia Delgado outside of the girl's own mother.

Elena had seen Lucia through everything from braces on her teeth to puberty, to the first time a boy worked up the courage to ask her out, to stammering her way through asking a boy she liked to the Sadie dance at her private school, to prom and then on to her first year in college. Wherever Lucia had gone, Elena had gone with her, treating the girl as if she were her very own.

And so it was that early on a Monday morning she was following her charge through a family owned mall where the planet of San Lucia's (named after the girl's umpteenth great-great paternal grandmother, not her) most sought after dress shop was about to unveil their fall line. The two security guards in Lucia's detail, a hulking man and nearly as hulking woman, were trying vainly to screen the girl and her caregiver but Lucia was not in the habit of exercising patience of any kind and most especially not when she was somewhere she considered her own ground.

“Lucia, I know you're in a hurry, but at least let them make sure there's no threat!” Elena tried again. “You know that your father has told you time and again to allow them to do their jobs!”

“He's not here and I don't want to be late!” Lucia shot back. “It's not like this is a bad neighborhood, El! Come on! They open in like five minutes. I bet there's already a line!”

“You know as well as I do that they won't make you stand in line or wait your turn, even though it might do you good,” Elena shot back.

“That's mean!” Lucia threw over her shoulder. “If Marcia gets there before I do, she'll grab the dress I want just for spite! I can't let her get away with th-”

Whatever else she was going to say was cut short by a burst of gunfire. Elena watched in shocked fascination as Lucia's two guards crumpled to the floor, bleeding from numerous wounds.

Before she could react, three masked gunmen came streaming from the store to their left, while two more came from the right.

“Stay where you are!” one of the masked figures ordered. Elena had grabbed Lucia's hand and was turning to run with her when she felt a hammer blow between her shoulders. Her legs refused to answer her as she tried to make them carry her away from the danger while dragging Lucia with her.

“El!” she heard Lucia scream as if far away, even as her legs finally crumpled beneath her and she fell to her knees.

“EL! Ohmygod, EL!” Lucia cried over and over. Elena felt her ward's arms wrap around her but then leave. She didn't see Lucia being pulled forcibly away from her as she fell the rest of the way to the floor in a heap.

A foot beneath her slight frame unceremoniously kicked her over onto her back. Her eyes open, she looked up into the eyes of one of the masked attackers, able to see bright green eyes under the black neoprene mask.

“Do. . .n't hur. . .hurt h. . .her,” Elena begged.

“Should be more worried about yourself,” a woman's voice said calmly. “I know you're just a pawn, but you're a Delgado pawn, so. . . .”

Elena didn't feel the bullet that struck her on the bridge of the nose. She had seen the flame from the barrel, but by the time the sound traveled the three or so feet between her ears and the pistol, she was already dead.

And the young woman she had protected and nurtured and cared for, had nursed when she was sick and held when she cried, had loved as if she were her own daughter, was being dragged away by two of the five kidnappers while the other three sprayed random fire across the mall, forcing everyone to keep their heads down as the group made their way to the side entrance of the mall, a sobbing Lucia Delgado hanging in their grip.

A windowless ground delivery van with was waiting for them there and once their package was bundled into the vehicle the rest clambered in behind, the last one in pausing to toss a small object back toward the entrance of the mall.

The grenade exploded as the car pulled away, thwarting the mall's security team as they tried to retrieve the Don's daughter, they not knowing yet who it was that had been taken.

But soon everyone would know exactly who it was that had been a victim of poor security at the most exclusive shopping venue on the planet.

CHAPTER ONE

-

“Porto San Lucia,” Tony Giannini smiled as he looked at his home world through the screen of the freighter Celia. Of course, no one on the ship knew it was his home.

“Been here before, Tony?” Lincoln 'Linc' Simmons, the ship pilot and husband of the Captain and owner asked him.

“Oh yeah,” Tony smiled. “Best food and wine anywhere in the Sphere, right here buddy!” he said eagerly.

“I can't believe we took this job,” Meredith sighed, shaking her head. “This place is home to the biggest crime organization in the known galaxy,” she complained.

“Which makes it much easier for me to get our wayward waif her new identity papers,” Tony nodded, ignoring his Captain's less than stellar description of his home. “I have also made arrangements for her to take the pilot's exam while we are here, by the way. With no waiting. Should she pass, she will leave this wonderland of food and drink as the officially licensed pilot Jessica Trenton of Idlewild.”

“I'm not a waif,” said waif complained from the pilot's chair as she prepared to take them into orbit, and from there to the ground.

“The main thing though is that I've arranged for Linc to see one of the best ophthalmologists anywhere in the Sphere while we're here,” Tony continued as if he had not been interrupted. “That was the reason for taking this job, remember,” he pointed out to Meredith Simmons, Captain and Owner of the Celia, and Lincoln's husband.

A few weeks earlier while on Hartley Space Station, Meredith, Lincoln, and the Celia's crew chief had been abducted by a hijacking crew. During that time Lincoln had taken a severe beating leaving him with vision problems that threatened to end his career as a pilot, such as it was. Tony hoped that the surgeon he'd arranged for them to meet would be able to correct Linc's vision problems and return him to battery.

This visit would also give him the chance to get their newest crew member some 'official' identification. Jessica 'Jess' Travers had come aboard the Celia on Halcyon, bound for her home on Gateway after five years away at school on Berea. After an adventurous three-month trip that had seen a great deal of mystery surround the young woman, they had gotten her home only to find that Jessica Travers had disappeared some twenty-five years before after heading Sphere-ward for school. Her parents were buried in the founder’s garden of her small home town, having died some twenty years before their arrival.

Considering that Jessica herself was not a day over twenty-five, this presented a mystery of staggering proportions. Complicating that mystery were things discovered during transit that the crew had no way of explaining. Things like Jessica being able to fly the Celia like an expert despite the fact that she had no memory of ever having learned how to do so. Things like her having memories of watching a cartoon that had been banned and erased from existence by an over reaching Commonwealth long before Jessica Travers should have ever been born.

Things like her very nearly kicking the head off of their engineer, and then having absolutely no memory of doing so. And such as giving her name as “Jess T, three-one-one-five-seven” after a fainting spell had left her disoriented. Which incidentally had happened right after she had basically commandeered the Celia and took off from Hartley Station one step ahead of the crew being detained after having escaped from their kidnappers by the expediency of killing them all.

Little things like that.

In the end, Meredith Simmons had decided and decreed that Jessica would come with them. The girl had nowhere to go and couldn't use her real name and identification since she'd been missing for twenty-five years. If she showed up not having aged a day in that time, there was no way she wouldn't be going to jail at the very least for identity theft. It was obvious to the all that Jessica truly believed she was who she claimed, and she had been visibly heartbroken to discover that her parents had been gone for twenty years. Whatever the mystery turned out to be, Jessica really believed she was Jessica.

Since Jess could fly like a pro and Lincoln was out of action until and unless the damage to his eyesight could be repaired, this was an arrangement that worked well for all parties. And Tony Giannini, making use of less than scrupulous contacts of his own, had arranged to get Jessica a new identification that would pass even the most stringent exam and identify her as Meredith's younger sister, Jessica Trenton.

“At least we know the cargo is legitimate,” Meredith sighed.

“You know, it's not like the entire planet is corrupt, Captain,” Tony rolled his eyes. “I grant you there are some less than desirable individuals running around down there, but there are also a lot of good people there, too. Including the doctor we're going to see,” he added.

“And these good people just happen to live on a planet that's home to a crime syndicate that spans the Commonwealth,” Meredith raised an eyebrow at him.

“So they're automatically criminals because of where they were born or what family they were born into, then,” Tony's attitude began to shift slightly. “How very judgmental of you, Captain.”

“You can change where you live and work when you're old enough,” Meredith replied.

“Well, by your standards then since you were once an officer in the Commonwealth Navy that would automatically make you guilty of certain war crimes, wouldn't it?” Tony's voice was calm. Conversational. But it hit his Captain just like a slap in the face.

It had recently been revealed that their engineer, Sean Galen, had been the victim of a Commonwealth Marines raid that had left his entire village murdered, save for him and a handful of others who had been gone at the time. He had gradually tracked down all of those responsible for the act itself and killed them in varying horrible ways, leaving him one of the most wanted men in Commonwealth history. The fact that he did not hold Meredith or her crew chief, (a former Marine who at one time had been a member of the special forces unit that had killed his family), responsible for the actions of others was a good comparison for what the Captain was doing now.

She nodded silently, acknowledging then hit.

“Okay you two,” Linc said into the silence. “Take that somewhere else now. We're getting ready to set down and the last thing we need up here is an argument over who's dad can beat up who.”

“As you wish,” Tony sniffed. “I'll be in my quarters, preparing to go and sample the wonderful cuisine and wineries of this fair jewel of a world.” With that he turned and left the bridge with a fake flair that left Linc and Jess laughing.

“All right then,” Meredith was calmer. “Try and get us on the ground in one piece. And no. Commentary.” She directed this at Jessica.

“Aw, now,” the girl whined. “I always thought my cheerful little tourist information was a good distraction from the possibility that we could crash! Or explode. Or hit another ship that wasn't registered on lidar. Or maybe hit a pocket of roiled air and tip-”

“And that right there is why I don't want any commentary,” Meredith cut her off before she could go any further. “We're all aware of the dangers without having them pointed out to us while we're in back, unable to affect the outcome any.”

“Mere, honey,” Linc looked pained. “It sounds like you don't trust us up here.”

“It does?” she raised an eyebrow but didn't dispute his accusation. “I have every confidence in you two and your abilities. If you need me I'll be in my crash position, praying,” she added calmly before heading off the bridge herself.

“I think she's starting to loosen up a bit,” Linc told Jessica.

“Really?” the girl looked shocked. “Wow.”

“What wow?” Lincoln looked at her. “Why are you wowing?”

“I'm wondering how you two ever got together if this is her 'loosening up a bit',” she grinned.

“Hey, I'm a very charming individual when I make the effort,” Linc objected.

“Now that, for once, I can see,” Jess smiled at him. “You are a very cool old man, Lincoln.”

“Old man!” Lincoln looked outraged. “Why you little-”

“Oh, that's us!” Jess cut his tirade off as their cue for the landing sequence lit up. “Here we go old timer.”

“When we get on the ground. . . .”

-

“Attention crew, you may now abandon your crash positions and return your tray tables to their upright positions since we have cheated death once more and put our fair ship on the ground. On purpose, I mean. Thank you for flying the Celia, and as always, have a nice day!” Jessica finished with a flourish and replaced the I/C mike, grinning at Linc.

“You're gonna get in trouble,” he sing-songed.

“She didn't say anything about once we got on the ground,” the tiny pilot grinned. “And you did say she was loosening up.”

“I said a little,” Linc stressed. “But I don't think it's that m-”

“Jessica,” Meredith's voice floated to them, “if you didn't have to go and take your exam, I'd confine you to the ship. You can expect extra dish duty in the future and you can take everyone's turn at laundry for the next rotation.”

“What?!” the cry of outrage could be heard to the cargo bay.

“. . .much,” Linc finished. “You really do need to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em, Jess,” he was shaking his head sadly.

“Wow,” the girl was shaking her head slowly. “Just. . .wow. I'll have to work really hard to get even for this one,” she sighed.

“You realize that 'get even' is probably not the best phrase to use when we're talking about the Captain, right?”

-

“Well, we are on the ground and without crashing! Or nearly crashing. Or almost crashing, seeming as if we're going to crash, or-”

“I get it, Tony,” Meredith sighed.

“Well, as long as you get it,” the cook slash medic grinned. “Are you really gonna make her do all the laundry?” he asked.

“You want to do it?” Meredith asked him casually.

“That little minx should be a-shamed at defying you like that, Captain!” Tony's attitude shifted immediately, abandoning his quasi-defense of their pilot pro tem.

“Thought so,” the Captain nodded firmly. “All right. Chief, we have one delivery here and one pick-up. I'll leave you to handle the particulars while we go and see the doctor and Jessica goes to take her test and see about her. . .things,” Meredith settled for saying.

“Papers, Captain,” Tony sighed. “Say it with me; papers.”

“That's what I said,” Meredith refused to be baited. She knew this was the only way to protect Jessica, but that didn't make her any happier about doing it this way. She had always fought to stay above board as a private freighter owner and Captain and this was skating very close to a line she didn't want to cross over. Still; needs must when the devil drives, and Jessica had to have some cover.

“Here's the address for the doctor,” Tony handed her note. “And this has x-rays, scans, diagnosis and treatment records and results of what tests I could administer out in the dark. If he has any questions he can com me, or I'll come by his office once I avail myself of the shady underworld here to get your sister some 'papers', and then drop her off at the test site.”

“Sounds good,” Meredith nodded. “Sean, are you going off ship?” she asked as the engineer came walking up. He had obviously cleaned up and was wearing clean if worn clothing. Tall, deceptively muscled, fast as a blink of an eye, Sean Galen had proven to be a very dangerous man indeed. A former assassin during the war, his past had come to light when he'd help rescue her, Lincoln, and the boat Chief, Carolyn Falks from a band of hijackers. None of the hijackers, including one man that was well known to Galen, had survived.

“Yes ma'am,” he nodded, voice quiet as it usually was. “Tony asked me to go with him to sample the food so I thought I would.”

“Okay,” Meredith said simply. “You two be careful and watch after Jessica, okay?”

“Yes ma'am,” the two almost sang in unison, looking like choir singers. She almost snorted at the thought. The church roof would cave in long before those two made it to the choir box.

-

“This is it,” Tony announced finally after a good half-hour of walking further and further into the seedier looking part of town.

“Well, I'm certain nothing bad can happen here,” Jessica noted dryly, looking around her with a raised eyebrow.

“Ye of little faith,” Tony chided. “Come along poor waif, and let me show you that not all is as it appears to be.”

“Stop calling me waif,” Jessica complained. “I'm small, but I'm not a waif.”

“You won't be for much longer, anyway,” Tony semi-agreed. He knocked on a very heavy looking door with a small window outlet. Said window suddenly opened to reveal part of a face.

“Yeah?”

“I'm here to see Armand?” Tony smiled. “Tell him it's Tony. He's expecting me.”

The window slammed shut without acknowledgment from the person behind it, leaving the three of them to wait in the alley. Jessica kept her head on a swivel until she noticed that Galen was merely standing there.

“Aren't you concerned?” she asked quietly.

“Nope,” was the laconic reply.

“Why not?” she asked, always interested in learning more about what made Galen tick. And how he knew when to be worried and when not.

“If something were going to happen, it would have happened by now,” he told her simply. “We've been watched for the last twenty-minutes or so at least, but no one's come to challenge us. Must be the company we're keeping,” he shot Tony a sidelong glance at that.

“No idea what you mean,” Tony pretended not to notice. “This is a perfectly respectable neighborhood and this is a legitimate business address.”

“Right,” Sean nodded.

“Look it up on the net, it's there,” Tony insisted. Before Sean could snort in amusement again the door opened with a loud squeak, revealing a huge woman standing in the doorway. Rather one should say filling the doorway. She made Faulks look tiny. And friendly. A sleeveless shirt revealed muscles that most men would kill for, let alone a woman.

“He'll see youse,” the woman said flatly and waved them inside. Tony stepped inside without pause, followed by Jessica and finally by Sean Galen. The woman gave him the eye and the engineer returned it calmly. It didn't surprise Tony or Jessica that the woman looked away first.

“He didn't say nothin' 'bout nobody else,” she told Tony, having been out stared.

“That's his fault and not mine,” Tony shrugged easily. “I told him I'd have two people with me; a man and a woman. These are they,” he waved to his friends.

“Follow me,” the woman shrugged and trudged by them, leading the way up the hall and into a larger area. Several people were lounging in what looked like a large living room of sorts, though many of them were either on the coms or working at a visual display of some kind.

Muscles led them to another steel door, pounded on it twice, and then opened it without waiting for a reply. Tony stepped inside, Sean and Jess trailing, where they saw a wiry man with a shaved head sitting at a desk.

“Ant'ny!” the man grinned broadly. “Long time no see, amico! And who, pray tell me, is this little flower?” he added when he saw Jess.

“This flower is the reason we're here,” Tony replied. “How are you Armand? Looks like business is good to you?”

“Pass'n fair,” the man nodded. “Up and down once in a while, but a man has to 'spect that, I 'magine. So, our little flower here needs the works you said?”

“Stop calling me that,” Jessica complained, only to be ignored.

“She does indeed,” Tony nodded. “You got the information I sent?”

“Round about way, I did,” the man nodded. He walked to a wall safe and opened it after dialing the numbers too fast for anyone to see. “I think we got everything she needs to get by on, here,” he pulled a leather valise from the safe and opened it, presenting it to Tony for inspection.

Taking the case, Tony perused the items carefully, noting the quality of work done. The pictures he'd sent had worked just fine and included several identity cards from work sites and even one university that Jessica's new persona had dropped out of several terms back.

“Birth certificate, high school diploma, nice,” Tony mused as he looked through the bag. “Armand, my good man, you are indeed a master of your chosen profession!” he enthused. He removed a leather ID case from the valise and handed it to Jess.

“Your new ID, waif,” he teased. “Best to have it on you, I guess. And this,” he reached into his jacket pocket and removed a thick envelope, “is for your time and troubles, my brother,” he told Armand, passing the envelope over.

“Told you that wasn't needful,” Armand said, though he did accept the envelope.

“At least to cover your own expenses,” Tony shrugged. “I'll still count it as a favor since you did it, but there's no need for you to be out any money, my friend. And I do appreciate it,” he added.

“Glad to he'p out,” the man nodded. “Ain't good not to have papers, no way,” he added. “Things get crazy the Wealthers don't know who you ‘sposed to be an' all.”

“And that is the way of it,” Tony agreed. “Well, we'll get out of your hair. . .well, scalp,” he grinned and Armand chuckled. “Thanks, man,” he said more casually.

“Anytime,” the man nodded. “Shiva 'll show you out,” he nodded to Muscles.

“What an apt name,” Tony nodded. “Relations?” he asked.

“Sister-in-law,” he sighed dramatically. “Whatta ya gon' do, right?”

“Right,” Tony nodded. “Lead on, Lady Shiva, we are in your gentle care. See you again some time, Armand!”

“Later,” the man waved, returning to his seat.

Five minutes later the three of them were back in the alleyway.

“And now we're off to get your certificate,” Tony smiled down at the 'waif'.

“Great,” she smiled weakly. “Better neighborhood than this, I hope?”

“Well, it's a government building so draw your own conclusions.”

-

“Simmons?”

Meredith looked up at the receptionist's call and raised a hand.

“Come with me, please?” the woman asked. Taking Linc's hand, Meredith followed the woman into the exam area of the clinic. They traveled back to the third such room and there had a seat.

“He'll be with you shortly,” the woman promised and departed.

“I hope this guy is as good as Tony seems to think,” Linc tried to keep his tone light.

“He hasn't steered us wrong so far,” Meredith shrugged. “And I did look this guy up on the net. He's well thought of and highly respected. You'd think he could find work someone better.”

“This looks like a pretty ritzy office to me,” Linc shrugged.

“You know what I meant,” Meredith told him.

“Yeah, and I also know you need to stop,” he told her. “You're talking about friends of our medic and cook, Meredith, and maybe even some of his family. Give that stick a rest and admit that not everyone has the luck to be born where they wanted to be.”

“I'm just saying that-” she cut off whatever she'd been 'just saying' as the door opened and a gray-haired man in a white doctor's coat entered, chart in hand.

“Lincoln Simmons?” he asked after looking at the chart. “Yes, I remember your case. Tony. . .Giannini, your medic, sent me your file some weeks ago. Said you were injured in a piracy attack?”

“An attempted one, yes,” Lincoln nodded.

“I'm Doctor Bernard, sorry,” the man shook hands with the couple, Linc first. “Absent minded sometimes I'm afraid. Now. . .I looked at the scan he sent me, and reviewed the file you left with my receptionist as well. You do have so lingering issues with the head trauma you suffered Mister Simmons, but nothing there suggests to me that is what's causing your vision problems. That means that your altercation has to have aggravated an existing issue. I see you're having problems with depth perception. Had you noted that before your incident?”

“I hadn't, but then I wasn't looking for it either,” Linc admitted. “I'd had some difficulty, but. . .I thought I was just a bad pilot.”

“Well, I can't speak to your actual degree of skill, but if you're having issues with depth perception that's definitely a job where it would be a problem. Let's give you a few tests and see if we can determine exactly what the issue is here.” He dimmed the lights and Linc sat down in a chair with numerous attachments, one of which swung to his head.

“Now, we'll start with simply identifying which object is closer, Mister Simmons,” the doctor told him. “Take your time and tell me, which one is closer, the red square or the blue triangle. . . .”

-

“Trenton!”

“That's me,” Jessica stood, carrying her new papers with her. She was oddly not nervous.

“Here for the written exam, right?” the woman clarified.

“Yes,” Jess nodded. “This is my practicals,” she offered him the chip Lincoln had fixed for her, certifying that he had 'checked' her on the Celia. The woman quickly plugged the card into a reader and perused it, nodding.

“Looks good,” she announced after a few minutes. “Assuming you can pass the written exam with a seventy-eight or greater, you'll leave here a brand new pilot first class, non-passenger,” the woman smiled. “Which actually means no more than ten passenger capacity, which I see. . .your ship doesn't even carry. Good deal. The test for pax pilots is a good deal more difficult and takes longer as well. Come with me and we'll get you signed in and you can get started. You gentlemen can wait here or if you have other business this will take about five hours, total.”

“Jess?” Tony asked.

“I think I'll be fine,” she smiled nervously. “And if I need you or something goes wrong, I'll call.”

“Well, that's our cue to go and eat!” Tony smiled broadly. “We'll try and save some pasta for you, Jessica.”

“Lucky me,” she smiled and then followed the exam supervisor back into the offices. Sean followed Tony from the office. The two stopped on the sidewalk as Tony looked around him, breathing deeply.

“You sure she'll be okay here by herself?” Sean asked.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “This area is pretty well policed and we should be back long before she's finished. Come on,” he nodded toward the street, where he raised a hand and waved down a hover taxi.

“Where we going?” Sean asked.

“Home,” Tony grinned broadly. “I am going home.”

CHAPTER TWO

-

“Looks like a roadblock, sir,” the driver said, cutting into Tony's review of how things had changed in his absence.

“What?”

“Looks like the police have this area sealed off, sir,” the driver repeated. “I can try to get to your address another way but. . . according to my mapping, that's what they've got blocked.”

“What the hell?” Tony muttered. “No, this is good. We can walk from here.” He handed a credit chip to the driver and included a tip. Getting it back he and Sean got out.

“Something wrong?” Sean asked.

“I don't know,” Tony admitted. “My father usually depends on his own security. If the cops are here, it can only be trouble. Come on, man,” he waved. “I want to see what's going on.”

Sean followed him, but before they got within fifty yards of the gate to his family estate a police officer had intercepted them.

“Sorry gents, this area is off limits,” the officer told them.

“Not to me,” Tony shook his head. “This is my home. What's going on around here? I literally just got off ship two hours ago, give or take.”

“I. . .I'm not at liberty to say, sir,” the officer was caught by surprise. “I'm not supposed to allow any access to the grounds.”

“Well, that's not going to work for me,” Tony told him flatly. “My name in Anthony Delgado and that,” he pointed to the grounds behind the wall, “is my home. Now I suggest you call whoever you need to in order to get this cleared up because we are going inside.”

The officer didn't know any of the Delgado family personally, but this young man certainly spoke with the authority that one of them would wield. Unsure of what else to do, he contacted his sergeant by radio. Soon a puffing man wearing the stripes of his office on his sleeve arrived.

“Who are you?” he demanded just short of being rude.

“I am Anthony Delgado,” Tony replied. “Who are you?”

“I'm Sergeant Nellis of the Violent Crimes Task Force,” the man replied, his tone moderating some. “We had no word that you were supposed to be arriving.”

“I didn't tell anyone,” Tony admitted. “It was supposed to be a surprise for my parents, especially my mother. Can you tell me what's going on around here?”

“No sir, I can't,” the sergeant admitted. “Let me contact the house and let them know you're here. It will just be a minute.”

“It had better be,” Tony was getting testy.

“Easy, brother,” Sean murmured. “Man's doing his job is all. Whatever is going on, it's obvious your folks don't want visitors today.”

“My father has overpaid security to make sure they don't get any visitors they don't want,” Tony replied. “He never relies on the police, Sean. Ever. Something's not right.”

“We'll see what it is in a minute,” Sean assured him, looking around them carefully. “There's more out here than just these guys, too,” he added. “I've spotted three riflemen hidden in the trees or across the street in that house, there,” he nodded. “They're watching us, too. Let's not do anything to get us shot right here on your family's door step.”

“The hell?” Tony looked around but could see nothing. “How the hell do you know that?”

“I can see,” Sean shrugged. “Stop looking, man. Don't give away we know they're there.”

“Right,” Tony nodded. He was becoming more concerned by the minute. The sergeant was returning now.

“I need to see you ID, sir,” he requested politely. “Yours as well,” he added to Sean. Both men complied with the request, Tony obviously growing more impatient by the second.

“You're cleared into the house, sir,” the sergeant told Tony after returning their ID. “Mister Galen will have to remain out here.”

“No, he won't,” Tony shook his head. “He's my friend, practically family himself. He's here with me to meet my parents and he is coming with me, sergeant. I don't know what the hell is going on around here but I do know that much.”

“You'll have to speak to the Lieutenant, sir,” the sergeant shook his head.

“No, I won't,” Tony shot back. “We are both going inside, sergeant. For your sake, I'd suggest you stand aside and not try to prevent me getting inside to see my mother. I've cooperated more with you than I've ever done for anyone, but that's at an end.”

“Sir, I have my orders and he's not allowed inside,” the sergeant licked his lips.

“Then you better call-, you know what? I need to use the com,” he changed his mind suddenly. “Get me a com into the house and do it right now.”

Hesitating only a second, the sergeant nodded and retrieved a mobile com unit which he handed to Tony. The angry mobster's son bypassed the receptionist and called his mother's private line. It rang three times before his mother's personal assistant answered.

“Delgado.”

“Marisa?” Tony asked. “Marisa is that you?”

“Yes,” the woman replied. “May I ask who this is?” her voice sounded strained he noted.

“Marisa, this it Antonio,” he told her. “I'm standing outside the gate right now but I'm having some issues getting inside. I have a good friend of mine with me and I'm being told he can't come inside. What is going on around here?”

“Oh, Mister Anthony,” Marisa sounded almost relieved. “Sir, I can't. . .I can't say, especially over the air. Let me. . .give me two minutes and I'll have this sorted. What is your friend's name?” Tony gave her the needed information.

“Two minutes,” she promised and broke the connection. Tony returned the unit to the sergeant.

“You should be getting a call shortly,” he told the sweating police supervisor. The man nodded and returned to his vehicle.

“Find out what the problem is?” Sean asked.

“No, but we'll know in a minute,” Tony assured him. “That was my mother's personal assistant. She's getting this straightened out. We should be hearing back in just a minute. Something's definitely not right, though,” he added. “She sounded. . .not just upset, but rattled. I don't know what the hell. . . .” he trailed off as the sergeant returned.

“You're both cleared inside, sir,” the man said without preamble.

“Thank you,” Tony nodded curtly. “C'mon and let's see what the hell is going on around here that I can't even get into my own place.”

-

Sean had to admit he was impressed. The estate was sprawling, a place of greenery that was obviously well maintained. Small pools and fountains dotted numerous small gardens and gazebos, there was even a small amphitheater off to their left, complete with a frame work for lights.

“I'm surprised you want to live on the Celia, considering all this,” Sean mentioned as the two approached the huge mansion that Tony had grown up in.

“Yeah, well,” Tony muttered. “A gilded cage is still a cage, man.”

“Suppose it is,” Sean agreed. A man Tony didn't recognize was standing at the door. Seeing that Sean was armed, the man immediately drew his sidearm, though he kept it hanging at his side. Sean didn't react, but Tony tensed at seeing the action.

“You put that away or I'll feed it to you,” he snarled, his voice conveying a tone of command that Sean had heard only once before, when they had spoken to Attorney 'Tuttle' on Hartley Station. It had surprised him there, but not this time.

“He's armed,” the man said.

“No shit?” Tony's sarcasm was thick. “He has to be to keep me safe dimwit. I'm Anthony Delgado and this is supposed to be taken care of already. Don't tell me you aren't expecting me.”

“No one said anything about him being armed,” the man replied. “I can't let you-”

“I'm getting really tired of people telling me what they 'can't let me' do,” Tony cut the man off. “You got three seconds to holster that, or try to use it. I'd really, really recommend you holster it if you want to make it to the ridiculous pension you were promised when you came to work here. I won't say it again,” he added.

The man used all three seconds before doing as he'd been ordered, his body actions screaming reluctance. He tried to stare Sean down but the former assassin merely returned the gaze blandly, not bothering to speak. This wasn't his turf and he wasn't going to get into a pissing contest with anyone.

“C'mon,” Tony tossed over his shoulder. Sean followed him up the steps and inside the home, ignoring the stare from the hired tough at the door. Tony smirked openly at the man, wanting so very badly to let Sean take him down a peg but knowing it wasn't the right thing to do. And it was bothering him just a bit at how easily he was slipping back into the 'family' persona he had tried to leave behind him when he'd left San Lucia to go to medical school. Being around this environment was bad for his attitude.

“Mister Anthony,” a middle-aged woman with wire rim glasses was waiting inside. Tony smiled as he returned her hug warmly.

“Marisa,” he spoke softly. “You look very good.”

“You never change,” the woman slapped his arm lightly. “Always the flirt. You must be Mister Galen,” she said to Sean.

“Just Sean,” he told her. “Yes, I am.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” the woman told him, offering him a gentle handshake. “Mister Anthony, your parents and your oldest brother are in the study. They do not know you are here,” she sounded hesitant.

“Marisa, what the hell is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I. . .I don't know that you shouldn't hear it from them,” she admitted. “Not that. . .I mean, it's. . . .”

“Marisa,” Tony's voice hardened ever so slightly. Her eyes closed for a few seconds as she took a deep breath.

“Follow me,” she said finally and led the two to a small office off the main hall. Once inside she closed the door.

“Your sister went to the Gavanza this morning,” she said without preamble. “Alfonso's fall collection was being released today and she wanted to be there.”

“Of course,” Tony sighed. “And?”

“Her party was ambushed inside the mall,” Marisa didn't try to ease the information any. Mister Anthony didn't like that sort of thing. “Her guards and her. . .Elena. . .Elena was killed,” Marisa's facade finally cracked a bit. “All of them shot down like dogs right in the mall. Your sister. . .they've taken Lucia, Mister Anthony. Whoever they are, they took her and were gone before the security at the mall could prevent it. There were dozens of others killed or injured by merely random gunfire and at least one explosion of some kind.”

“What?” Tony sounded incredulous. “How in the hell can that have happened? There of all places? Don't we. . .don't they, still own the mall?”

“Yes, and security it always very tight,” Marisa nodded. “I. . .I don't understand it either,” she admitted. “I've told you all that I know. I do not know if they have been contacted by the kidnappers yet. I don't know. . .I. . .” she stopped then, lifting her glasses to wipe a tear away. “Elena was shot in the head while she was already on the ground, wounded. No reason to do it other than just. . .because,” she shrugged. “There's no doubt this was a deliberate attack upon the family, but there's no indication that I am aware of as to why, or who it was. There's always the possibility it was for money, I guess.”

“I guess,” Tony sounded shell shocked. His little sister was a brat, there was no denying that, but. . .she was a lovable brat. So far as he knew she'd never harmed a soul. She had rivalries with other girls her age of course, but none of that would rate something like this.

“I . . . I need to see my mother and father,” he said finally.

“Of course,” Marisa nodded. “Come,” she said, opening the door and leading them down and across the hall to a massive set of wooden doors. She looked back at them once before knocking three times in rapid succession then opening them.

Tony walked inside, trying to school his features as he did so. He was sure his mother was a wreck, and there was no need to add to that. He was conscious of Sean following him and was suddenly grateful for the other man's friendship.

“Antonio?” a remarkably attractive woman who was probably in her fifties but looked as if she was in her late thirties stood abruptly, a look of shock on her face. Sean had to admit that Tony's mother was stunning. Tall with a willowy build, long jet-black hair in a single braid that hung to her waist, her finely appointed features showed both breeding and beauty. Her startling blue eyes were wet with tears yet shed as she opened her arms to her son. She looked ever so slightly familiar to Sean, but he wrote it off to her being Tony's mother.

“Mamma,” Tony said softly as he walked to her and embraced her tightly.

“Oh, my sweet bambino,” the woman said softly and Sean noted that the younger of the two men already in the room frowned at that, obviously jealous. “Today of all days am I grateful to see you, my dear boy,” she whispered.

“I only just got here two hours or so ago,” Tony told her. “I didn't know until I actually got inside.” The older man had stood from the desk he was behind and approached them.

“Son,” the man Sean now knew was Jerome Delgado embraced his son tightly, slapping his back heartily. “It's good to see you, even on such a day as this.” Tony's father was also tall, but built like a block of cement. Wide shoulders and muscles that no suit, regardless of how expensive, could hide. This was a man who did his own work, or had before he'd inherited his current position. Iron gray was edging into what had once been a deep chestnut brown hair color, and piercing green eyes missed nothing, Sean imagined. A formidable adversary to say the least, he decided.

“You too,” Tony replied. “Marisa filled me in on what she knew, but she said she didn't know much, just that there was an attack at the mall and that Lucia was taken?”

“Yes,” Jerome nodded. Tony looked to the younger man.

“Roberto,” he smiled weakly and offered his hand. His brother showed great reluctance but took the hand anyway, and then the two shared an awkward, forced embrace, Sean assumed for the benefit of their parents. Roberto was almost as tall as his parents, but. . .weak. He looked strong enough physically, but his spirit, his aura, spoke of an elemental weakness within him that would prevent him from being the man his father was. Or that his brother was for that matter. Brown hair from his father, along with green eyes that were nowhere as intelligent or searching as his father's were, his skin was almost milky, and his hands were soft, where his father's hands were calloused and scarred. Sean doubted that 'Roberto' had ever done a real day’s work in his entire life.

“Antonio,” Roberto returned. “Good to see you,” he added, again probably for the mother's benefit if not both parents.

“You too,” Tony replied. “I. . .I had planned to surprise you,” he told his parents. “I never. . .I mean I didn't imagine. . . .” he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“None of us would have,” his father shook his head.

“Have you heard anything at all?” Tony asked.

“Antonio, who is this?” his mother asked him. Tony looked at her and realized she was looking at Sean.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized. “Mamma, Poppa, Roberto, this is my shipmate and best friend, Sean Galen. He's the engineer on the ship I serve on. Sean, this is my father, Jerome, my mother Antonia, and my brother, Roberto.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Sean said softly, reluctant to intrude.

“And we you,” Antonia said regally. “I regret that it is such a harsh day that you have visited with us.”

“I'm sorry for your pain, ma'am,” Sean said gently. He looked at Tony.

“Should I wait outside?”

“I. . .well, no,” Tony shook his head. “In fact, I'd like you to stay. I might need your. . .expertise. If you're willing,” he added.

“Of course I am,” Sean told him. “Whatever you need,” he promised.

“Thanks, man,” Tony nodded.

“I don't think an engineer is going to be much help, Tony,” Roberto snorted. “And this is a family issue.”

“He wasn't always an engineer,” Tony replied calmly. “And when the time comes, you'll be glad he's on our side.”

“Time?” Roberto asked.

“Seriously?” Tony looked at his brother. “You really need me to spell it out for you? Whoever did this dies, Roberto.”

“Antonio,” his brother objected but Jerome interrupted, his face showing approval.

“No,” the older man said flatly. “No, he is correct. Whoever has done this, they will pay for it. I assume that before he was an engineer, Mister Galen was. . .something else?” he phrased it carefully.

“I was,” Sean replied evenly. “I was raised to be something else,” he admitted.

“I suspected as much,” the older man nodded and looked at Antonia, who paled ever so slightly. Sean hid a frown at that, wondering what kind of connection the old man had just made. He couldn't see it himself, and he didn't like that.

“Have you heard anything?” Tony got the discussion back on track. “And why the coppers?” he asked.

“They were called to the mall,” his father shrugged. “There was no way to keep them out under the circumstances. I've allowed them to block access to the house and they have an investigator interviewing the staff, though Tuttle is with them to assure that nothing untoward is done.”

Tony nodded at that. Jerome Delgado had always preached loyalty to his children. He expected loyalty from his retainers and he returned it equally. His people were never left hanging. Ever.

“I'm afraid I spoke a bit harshly to the cops at the gate, and the guy at the door,” Tony told them. “By the time I was allowed into the house my temper was running a little short,” he admitted.

“They will recover,” Jerome shrugged it off. “Wilhelm called in extra men for the house and the rest of the family after this morning. The man at the door is usually stationed at the port, I believe. He is not accustomed to the comings and goings of the house. It will pass.”

“And we have as yet heard nothing,” he admitted, getting back to Tony's question. “The police of course have demanded that the investigation be left in their hands and I have done so for the moment. However,” he glanced at Sean, “I think we may change that, now.”

“What?” Roberto cut in. “Because of an engineer who used to be something else?” he demanded. “The police are the professionals at this! We should let them do their jobs!”

“If I were confident they would do their jobs, I would be inclined to agree,” Jerome replied evenly. “I lack such confidence however. As such, I will also be looking into this myself. I will not have my people killed on my own ground, my own flesh and blood taken from me, and be told to sit quietly while others decide if my own people are to blame!” by the time he finished he was almost yelling at his oldest son and a heavy fist slammed into the desk, making everyone but Sean jump. The man took a deep breath and made a concentrate effort to calm himself.

“If you believe that I will do so my son, then you do not know me at all,” he said finally. “And if you are content to allow these buffoons, corrupt and inept as they are, to be responsible for returning your sister to us, then perhaps you are not the man to replace me when the time comes.”

It was a deadly insult in the circles that Jerome Delgado traveled in and Sean knew it. He had watched scenarios roughly similar play out on his own home world before he had taken to the stars to hunt those who had killed his family. The heir apparent was not always the best choice to replace the aging chief. Which was why the chief usually named his own replacement. Obviously, Jerome Delgado believed in the same rule.

“Father,” Roberto's voice was strained, “I want Lucia back as much as you do, but we cannot simply go and do as we please! We have no idea who has done this! We don't even know where to begin!”

“Begin where it happened,” Sean spoke without thinking. Every eye in the room turned to him and he realized he'd made himself the center of attention.

“What the hell does that mean?” Roberto demanded. “Begin where it happened,” he snorted.

“Someone in that mall knows who did this,” Sean shrugged.

“How do you figure that, having just arrived here?” Roberto demanded. “Or has Tony filled you in on all our secrets,” he semi-accused.

“I didn't even know he had a brother until five minutes ago,” Sean shrugged. “He didn't know anything about my past until a few weeks ago. We've been friends a long time without the need for either knowing the others 'secrets'.”

“You own the mall in question, correct?” Sean dismissed the brother as irrelevant and turned to the father.

“I do,” he nodded.

“I assume that the security there is more than the average shopping mall would rate, then?” Sean asked.

“Very much so,” the old man nodded. “A number of influential families and friends shop there. Privacy and security are of the utmost concern.”

“So the likelihood that someone could execute an ambush inside that mall without assistance from within is very unlikely,” Sean nodded. “That means that someone there knows who did this, sir. Was everyone in the shops that were used to hide the attackers killed?”

“No,” the old man's eyes took on a different light.

“Perhaps one or two of them were wounded?” Sean suggested. “Lightly, of course. Flesh wounds. Painful, bloody, but not serious.”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Jerome replied, his face hardening.

“Then that's where you start,” Sean nodded. “One of those individuals knows who did this. You can just about bet on it.”

“And they'll just tell you because you guessed it,” Roberto snorted again.

“They'll tell me,” Sean nodded but said nothing else.

“Can you get me the names of everyone working this morning, and everyone who works in the shops they used to stage the ambush?” Tony asked his father.

“I can,” the old man's voice held a tremor of hope, something it hadn't had when they had come inside.

“Do it, and let us work from that angle then,” Tony decided at once. “No one much knows me it seems, considering how much difficulty I had getting inside. We can move around without so much trouble. Anyone watching will be watching you.”

“You can't be serious,” Roberto spoke up again. “You show up after years, on the very day that Lucia is taken, and think you can just start giving orders around here?” he demanded. “You're a cook on a tramp freighter for God's sake! Flunked out of medical school and went on the lam! Now suddenly we're supposed to just let you-”

“ENOUGH!”

It wasn't the old man, surprisingly. It was Antonia Delgado, her beautiful features marred by anger.

“My daughter is in the hands of Spirit only knows who and you dare to stand here and bring up such trivial things as this?” she seethed at her oldest son. “Pity you are not so squeamish when dealing with your friends as you seem to be with those who draw the blood of your own people, my son. You will be silent unless you have something helpful to add. Do not make me say it a second time.”

Sean had heard only about half of that speech, good though it was. He had missed a good bit due to his shock and surprise at Antonia Delgado's choice of words.

Where most would have said “God only knows”, she had not. Instead she had said “Spirit”.

Suddenly Sean Galen knew another reason Antonia Delgado might look familiar.

-

“Well, your medic was correct in that you have a depth perception issue, there's no question of that,” Doctor Bernard said as he settled in behind his desk. The testing had taken most of an hour-and-a-half and they were now seated in Bernard's office to go over the results.

“Can that be fixed?” Lincoln was almost hesitant to ask. “And is that the only problem?”

“It can be corrected, but no,” the doctor shook his head, “it's not the only problem. Your injury apparently caused a great deal of swelling around your optical nerve area, which your medic correctly reported as well. I have to add that you're most fortunate to have someone as skilled and knowledgeable as he is as a ship's medic. His actions most likely saved you from permanent damage to your vision.”

“We are lucky to have him,” Meredith agreed.

“As I was saying,” Bernard returned to his test results. “Your depth perception issue is being caused by a very slight cataract on your left eye. You likely can't tell it's there it's so small, but when you try to change your focus from close to far or back again, it presents an issue for your optical nerve to try and refocus around what is for all intents a blind spot in your vision.”

“Wouldn't I be able to tell I had a blind spot?” Linc frowned.

“If it was a major one, then yes,” Bernard nodded. “One this small however. . .the brain is a remarkable thing, Mister Simmons. It does everything in it's power to make our lives better so long as it receives the proper nourishment and isn't impaired or injured. Essentially, your brain is creating for you whatever that small cataract is blocking from your vision. It shows you from memory what you should be seeing. When it fails to do that, or is unable to do it, then you experience blurred vision, and I dare say the occasional bout of dizziness, no?”

“Since the incident, yes,” Lincoln nodded.

“Well, removing that cataract should leave you with no further difficulty in that area. It's a simple procedure actually and we can perform it here in the clinic day after tomorrow. Should take about five hours total time, give or take. Your recovery time will be roughly ten days, mostly depending on you. Your vision, once you've recuperated, should no longer be suffering from that particular issue.”

“You did say it wasn't his only problem,” Meredith wanted to celebrate but couldn't. Not yet.

“No, it isn't,” Bernard sighed. “I mentioned the swelling, but in truth, other than the pain it surely caused I can't see any kind of permanent damage from it. There is a possibility that calcium spurs will begin to form at some point in the future around the area where you suffered the concussion. Should that happen then it will be possible that could cause you some problems further along and could also cause you to suffer from frequent headaches. But if that happens, it's at a point much further along.”

“So what is the problem?” Lincoln asked. “The other problem, I mean,” he clarified.

“Well, Mister Simmons,” Bernard smiled slightly. “You need glasses.”

-

Jessica Travers looked at the test before her and realized suddenly that she didn't know a damn thing on that test. Nothing she read made the slightest bit of sense to her despite the fact that she could effortlessly pilot any star ship currently sitting in Porto San Lucia at that very moment.

How the hell can I not know any of this? she wondered to herself. What am I going to do now?

If she couldn't get a license then they couldn't afford for her to be flying and with Lincoln out of action that meant the Simmons would actually need a new pilot and that would put her out of a job, and since the Celia was technically home now, not only would she be jobless she'd be homeless as well, with a fake diploma from a school she couldn't even describe and a failed litany of classes from a university she'd never even heard of before today, so getting any kind of real work that wouldn't leave her basically at the mercy of anyone she came across would be practically impossible, and-

Suddenly she jerked upright in her seat as her mind shut down all of her mental jabbering as if a switch in her brain had been thrown. She could almost feel gears turning in her head as information began to flood her consciousness, similar to a computer downloading information from an outside source. As she sat stiffly in her seat, staring out the window as if she were having an epileptic seizure, she realized with a start that she now knew everything she needed to pass this exam. This insignificant, paltry, a-child-could-do-it exam.

“Miss Trenton?”

She knew every answer to every question on this test. For that matter she knew the order the questions would be asked in and could literally answer them without even looking at the actual questions themselves again. A flood of calming ran through her, seemingly touching every part of her.

“Miss Trenton?”

When had she taken this test before that she could know the questions ahead of time and the order they'd be asked in? She wasn't aware of any eidetic memory tendencies. And she couldn't ever remember seeing this test before anyway, so where had that knowledge come from?

“Miss Trenton are you all right?” the tester's voice finally broke through her mental haze. Jess turned to look at the woman and smiled.

“Yes ma'am,” she assured the older woman. “I'm fine. Just thinking about something test related. Sorry, I was in a bit of a zone trying to recall something.”

“That's quite all right, I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” the woman smiled. “Remember you're on the clock, however,” she reminded kindly. “You don't want to waste too much time on a question you can't answer.”

“Oh, I can answer it I think,” Jessica smiled again. “But you're right. Regardless, I shouldn't be wasting time. Thank you.” With that she turned her attention back to the test and began reading the questions again.

And answering them.

-

Faulks watched as the cargo loader pulled away with the last of their cargo. It was a rare thing for the cargo bay to be empty and she took advantage of it to sweep the entire area and clear away any refuse that had accumulated around and beneath the cargo-tainers in the hold.

She had just finished and was thinking very strongly about a bottle of brandy she had in her hooch when the com on her belt buzzed. Sighing, she answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Faulks,” Tony Giannini's voice said at once. “Are you busy?”

“Not at the moment,” she replied reluctantly. I would have been in five more minutes, she didn't say.

“I need a favor,” the medic/cook said flatly. “I. . .something has come up that I absolutely have to deal with and it can't wait. I need you to go and get the girl and bring her back to the ship when her test is over. She could probably make it on her own, but she's expecting someone to be there and I. . .I can't. Not right now.”

“Have Galen do it,” Faulks suggested. “Girl likes him I'm pretty sure,” she added.

“I need him to help me,” Tony told her. “I can't explain right now but I will as soon as I can. I'm reluctant to call the Captain since they may still be in with the doctor about Linc's vision. I wouldn't ask you but. . .I really don't have a choice. I have to do this.”

“All right, all right,” Faulks agreed. “Send me the add and I'll go get 'er,” she promised. “I better get something good for supper some night though,” she added, semi-playfully.

“I'll make that goulash you like so much,” Tony promised at once. “I can get fresh ingredients for it here before we lift, and I'll make those yeast rolls you like to go with it. Promise.”

“Really?” Faulks was shocked. She really had been teasing for the most part.

“Really,” Tony promised again. “And thanks.” With that he was gone.

“Well, just for going to get the girl, that ain't a bad deal,” she told herself as she prepared to close up the ship and venture into town. “Not a bad deal at all.”

-

“You know you're being watched, right?” Sean asked Jerome Delgado as Tony called Faulks.

“I assume as much,” he admitted. “What have you seen?”

“There are three riflemen just off your estate that I saw,” Sean informed him. “Two actually in trees, and one in a building across the street. I suppose they could be police, or they may even be yours, I don't know.”

“The one across the street may be,” Jerome mused. “My security chief, Wilhelm Mueller, is a cautious soul to be sure, and I own the building across the street. I'll check with him and see if they are his. If not, we may have another problem brewing.”

“I assume a man in your line of work has enemies who could run this kind of operation?” Sean asked.

“Of course,” Jerome sighed. “I'm not so bad I like to think, but. . .one does make enemies, even when trying to simply make an honest dollar. Believe it or not, most of my holdings are legitimate, at least for the largest part. I still dabble in certain things that I find. . .useful. But since I've assumed the helm of this operation I've worked to make it more. . .dignified, let us say.” Sean was surprised at the man's forthrightness.

“You are surprised that I would admit so much to you, yes?” the old man looked amused.

“Thought crossed my mind,” Sean admitted freely.

“Talk to my wife, Mister Galen,” Jerome said simply. “You might learn that I know more about you than you think.”

“Excuse me?” Sean's voice had an edge to it now.

“That is not a threat,” Jerome raised a placating hand. “Just free information. Talk to Antonia, Mister Galen. I will contact my security chief. And see what my son Roberto is doing now,” he sighed.

“He disappoints you,” Sean said softly.

“More every day,” the older man nodded sadly. “He is not, sadly, like Antonio. None of them are.” With that the old man departed. Sean turned around to find Antonia Delgado looking at him from down the hallway. She was practically staring at him actually and it made him uncomfortable.

“Ak'eiaha noloe sangre nai' anakaa',” she said softly as he neared her. Sean froze hearing his native tongue roll from her lips. She had just asked him was he a warrior of the blood.

“Excuse me?” he asked in standard.

“Do not pretend you do not know what I say,” she continued in the mishmash language of his home world. “Do not disappoint me.”

“Who are you?” he asked, still speaking standard. He hadn't spoken his native tongue in a long time.

“I am, I was, one of the People,” she told him plainly. “I left to marry an off worlder, thus was shunned by my own family. It was a harsh thing to endure, but I have three sons, a daughter and a good husband who is devoted to me. It is enough,” she shrugged. “What about you?”

Sean looked at her for a moment, considering. She did look like one of the People, that was certain. He wondered if Tony knew?

“Who did you belong to?” he asked suddenly, using their native tongue, very quietly.

“I was of the Crystal Caves,” she replied calmly.

Well, that explained the blue eyes then, Sean thought to himself. Most all of the Crystal Cave people had blue eyes and the trait was a strong one, passed down even when mixed with others in marriage.

“And you?” she asked, an eyebrow raised slightly. “From where do you spring?”

“We are kin, after a fashion,” he said slowly, almost reluctantly. “I am, or was, of the Aridu Perro,” he practically whispered. “My mother was of the Crystal Caves.”

“That explains the eyes, then,” Antonia nodded, echoing his own thought about her. “What made you leave your home, child of Arida?”

“I had enemies, and it was better that I left,” he skirted the truth slightly. “A man is known by the enemies he makes, my grandfather taught me.”

“So mine taught me,” Antonia nodded. “Yet, I am not sure this is a true enemy who has struck my family, Sean Galen. This has a taste of the personal, but. . .I can see no reason for it. My husband is not an unfair man. Harsh at times yes, but not unfair. Despite what others may think of him, he is a man of strong honor. It means much to him. Too much to sacrifice, whether it be for gain in wealth or in power. The enemies he has are inherited enemies for the most part, and most of those respect him enough not to attack his family. This act was done from hatred, Sean Galen. For nothing more than to inflict pain. I am sure they will work to extort something from us, using my daughter as a bargaining chip, but. . .I think it will be for appearances only. I do not think they intend to return my daughter to me.”

“Bring me my daughter, wa'houn,” she said suddenly, again using an honorific that Sean hadn't heard in a long time. “Kill whoever took her and whoever ordered it done, even to the second generation, but bring me my daughter. Protect my son and bring me my daughter. Do so and whatever you ask of me will be yours.”

“I will do what I can,” Sean nodded. “Your son is my friend. One of very few. He has asked me for my help and he will get all that I have. If you think of anything that might help us, call us. He and I are going to this mall, and then to speak to these people who were in the stores from where the ambush was struck. One of them knows. I am sure of it.”

“Bring me my daughter,” Antonia nodded. “And see that my son returns,” she added. “I will have need of him soon, I fear.”

CHAPTER THREE

-

Jessica stretched as she stood from the small desk, looking at the wall mounted chrono. She'd been here for nearly four hours, an hour under the scheduled amount of testing time. Smiling to herself, she indicated to the supervisor that she was finished.

“So soon?” the woman raised an eyebrow. “Most need all the time we allot and then still fall short of answering everything.

“I answered everything, but that's no guarantee that I answered them right,” Jessica shrugged. “I think I passed though, which is all that matters,” she added with a grin.

“That it is,” the woman returned the smile as she entered her pass code into the computer terminal that held Jessica's exam. The machine whirred for half a minute before flashing a small white box on the screen.

“Ninety-one,” the woman nodded. “Well done, Miss Trenton,” she congratulated. “And. . .there,” she hit a series of keys and Jessica could hear a printer working at the front of the room. “And one more thing here. . .” the woman spoke to herself as she entered another series of code. “And that's it. All done,” she stood and looked at Jessica.

“Congratulations, Miss Trenton, you are now an officially licensed freighter pilot, certified by the Commonwealth Spaceway Authority.”

“Thank you,” Jessica smiled back. “I wasn't. . .I didn't think I did that well,” she affected a stammer. The truth was she knew exactly what her score was when she'd called the woman back. She had deliberately missed enough questions to avoid a higher score that would attract unwanted attention. She wasn't sure how she knew to do that, she just had, and thus she did.

“Well, some of your guesses must have been right,” the woman said over her shoulder as she moved to the printer. “This is a hard copy of your certification,” she tore a series of sheets from the printer. “This is your wallet card,” she offered her a plastic card now engraved with her information, “and this certificate is to give to the freighter you're currently working on since they paid for your exam and certified your practicals.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” Jessica smiled. “I appreciate it.”
“Fly safely, Miss Trenton,” the woman told her and then returned to her work. Jessica made her way out, expecting to find Tony and Sean waiting for her. To her shock and surprise she saw Carolyn Faulks in the lobby of the building, reading a bulletin board. Seeing Jess, she turned to her.

“How 'd it go, girlie?” she asked.

“Ninety-one,” Jessica showed her the certificate.

“Nice,” Faulks nodded. “Doc called and said he was tied up on something he had to do and Galen had to help, so he asked me to come over and walk you back. So you ready to head back now or got something else to do?”

“No, I'm ready now,” Jessica said. “We can head right on back.”

“Okay,” Faulks nodded and the two set out for the Celia. Jessica had to marvel at the change in Faulks since she had first met the woman. When Jess has first stepped foot onto the ship, Faulks had been an abrasive, arrogant bully that seemed to live for making other people miserable. Then Sean Galen had very nearly cut her head off and suddenly Faulks was okay. Jessica had compared it to an Alpha wolf finally exerting himself, letting the rest of the pack know that he wasn't prepared to put up with any more bullshit. Despite being a genuine badass herself, Faulks had gotten the message loud and clear; Galen was much worse than she could even dream of being.

The change in her attitude had been near miraculous and had extended to Jessica as well, for which the slight girl was grateful. Her own life was complicated enough as it was. A bullying and overbearing cargo chief was trouble she didn't want or need.

-*

“Glasses.”

Linc had said the word at least five times since leaving the doctor's office fifteen minutes ago, new glasses perched on his face and a spare set in a hard-shell container. He had to come back in two day’s time for his corrective surgery.

“Yes, Lincoln,” Meredith sighed. “Glasses.”

“I'm getting old I guess,” he sighed too. “All this time it's been something like this that caused me so much trouble. And all it took was an ass beating to find out,” he chuckled bitterly.

“I'm so relieved that you aren't permanently injured that I couldn't care less about your glasses,” Meredith told him. “And they look pretty good on you, really,” she added, smiling up at him. “Kind of a sexy, geeky, nerdy look for you. I like it.”

“You do, huh?” he looked down at her, an eyebrow raised behind his new eye wear.

“I do indeed,” Meredith grinned.

“Well, that's something at least,” he shook his head slightly, still chagrined. “But of all the things. . .glasses.”

“Yes, Lincoln,” Meredith sighed again. “Glasses.”

-

Lucia Delgado was in terrible pain.

She had been dumped into the back of a cargo vehicle outside the mall, a cloth sack thrust over her head to keep her from seeing anything around her. She had felt cuffs being placed on her wrists, pinning her arms behind her. She panicked as she felt her dress being raised, fearing she was about to be sexually assaulted, but then she had felt a prick on her right thigh and. . .nothing.

She had emerged from the darkness of sedation to find the cloth still over her head. As near as she could tell after testing her bonds, she was sitting in a straight back chair, her hands somehow pinned to the chair behind her, probably at the top of the chair back since her hands were roughly even with her head. This forced her to lean forward in the chair which just hurt her arms more.

Her shoes had been taken and her ankles pulled back sharply beneath her. She knew they were restrained as well, probably to the chair but she couldn't tell without being able to see. She did know that her legs were completely immobile, the bonds pulling her muscles taunt to the point that even squirming was a major effort.

“Hello?” she called out, hoping for help. “Is anyone there?”

“Finally awake, eh, Princess?” she heard a raspy voice ask. “Took you a while.”

“Who are you?” Lucia asked. “What do you want?”

“Who I am is the woman who decides if you live or die,” the raspy voice shot back, surprising Lucia. She hadn't recognized the voice as being a woman. “What I want? Well, that's complicated and would take too much time to fully explain to an airhead mob moll like you. Suffice it to say that I want some payback and we'll leave it at that. Now. . . .”

Lucia blinked several times as the hood was pulled from her head abruptly. The light from some kind of lamp was directly in her eyes but she could see the figure, little more than a shadow in the halo of the lamp, standing in front of her and to her right, mask in place.

“We're gonna make a nice message for daddy, Princess,” the shadow told her. “If you're a good girl and do exactly what I tell you, not only will you still be alive, but you'll be in one piece and I'll probably eventually feed you and give you some water. Do anything else, disobey even once, and we'll start with your pinky finger and work our way up from there. I'll send you home to daddy once piece at a time. Understand?”

“Why are you doing this?” Lucia cried. “I haven't done anything!”

“I guess we'll do it the hard way then,” the woman sighed dramatically.

“No!” Lucia cried out. “I'll do it! Whatever you want me to do I will, just please. . .don't hurt me,” she sobbed.

“Well, we'll see if you mean it or not,” the woman agreed after a long moment of silence. “That was your only freebie, though,” she warned flatly. “Now that you know how serious I am, the next time I take your little finger, and then your ring finger, then your middle. . .well, you get the idea. Once you're out of fingers I'll start on your toes, next I guess. Or maybe your ears. We'll have to see what I'm in the mood for. Now,” the shadow backed away slightly.

“Smile for the camera, princess.”

-

“. . .cutting off my fingers, Poppa! Please, please do whatever they want, Poppa, please don't let them hurt me. Ple-”

The screen went black. Jerome Delgado's face was a mask as he looked up at the police lieutenant who was still in his home.

“What are you doing about this?” he asked softly. A danger signal to anyone who knew him.

“We're still interviewing your staff,” the investigator made himself at home in Jerome's office. “I'm convinced that one of them is in on this and set it up. We'll root out who it was and then lean on them for the rest.”

“Where else are you looking?” Jerome asked.

“Nowhere,” the investigator replied. “We're sure the problem is here. No reason to waste our resources anywhere else.”

“Waste,” Jerome repeated the word slowly. “My daughter is being threatened with dismemberment and you are concerned with waste? What happens to my daughter if you are wrong and none of my own employees are responsible for this?”

“I'm not wrong,” the man replied arrogantly. “It's always someone on the staff in cases like this. It's pretty standard stuff, really. Try not to think about it too much. We'll take care of it,” he stood.

“If you are wrong,” Jerome said softly, “and my daughter pays the price for your arrogance, then I will extract that price from you, Detective. So if I were you, I would make very sure that I wasn't wrong.”

“Are you threatening me?” the detective asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” the old man nodded. “I'm glad we understand one another. You may go.”

“Now see here, Mister Delgado,” the detective began, but three of the Delgado's security team moved to flank him and in a sudden burst of intelligence he shut his mouth.

“Go,” Jerome ordered, and the man went.

Ignoring the by-play as the detective tried to stare down hardened mercenaries who were on the Delgado payroll, Jerome looked out his study window. He was no closer to knowing who had his daughter, or why. He wanted to know the why, since it might be important. It might tell him who.

He silently wished his son and his friend luck as they followed their own path.

-

“Freddy?” the store owner looked at the two marshals. “He's been with me for about six months I guess. No longer than that. I can check for sure if you'll give me a second.” He tapped keys on his computer, nodding.

“Four months and two weeks to the day, looks like,” he told them. “Been a model employee, really. Never late, never calls out, always good with the customers. Everyone likes him. It was a shame he got hurt.”

“I understand his wounds are superficial and he will recover,” the smaller marshal noted. Of the two he was the better dressed.

“Well, yeah,” the store owner nodded. “He was lucky. The other employee working that shift, Melinda, she. . .she's in ICU at Valley General. Her prognosis isn't too good,” he sighed. “She's a good woman. Got a little boy, I think he turned ten about two weeks ago. Her husband died when the kid was just a tyke. I . . . I hope she makes it. For her sake and his.”

“We do too,” the marshal nodded. “I appreciate your time, Mister Haddick. If we can think of anything else we need to ask, we'll try to call ahead. We don't want to disrupt your business.”

“Business is dead since this happened, no pun intended,” he said sadly. “That sounded wrong. I just meant that with what happened, no one is around right now. If you need to come by, sure, give me a call. Anything I can do to help, I will.”

“Thanks again,” the smaller man nodded as the two left.

Once outside the store, Sean looked at Tony with a slight smirk.

“I'd love to know where you got these ID cards and badges.”

“I'm very resourceful,” Tony replied. “No one would talk to us otherwise.”

“We're breaking quite a few laws doing this,” Sean pointed out.

“I'll break them all to save my sister,” Tony growled.

“Works for me,” his friend nodded.

“What was my mother talking to you about?” Tony changed the subject.

“Wanted me to help find your sister,” Sean replied truthfully. “I told her I was going to do that anyway,” he shrugged. “You're one of the very few friends I have. No way I don't help you, man.”

“I appreciate it,” Tony told him. “I mean it. Not every man would go along on something like this.”

“Doesn't bother me,” Sean admitted. He of all people understood revenge. “We going to see this 'Freddy' person? Him being such a good guy and all?”

“We are as soon as we've checked the other store out,” Tony nodded as the two crossed the floor of the mall to the second store used for the ambush.

This store was easy to check out. Two people working at the time, both now dead, shot in the back of the head and left laying in the stock room. No reason for it, no rhyme to it. Out of four people in the two stores used to set up the ambush on Lucia Delgado, only one, Fredrick 'Freddy' Parmano, was not dead or seriously injured.

“That strikes me as a curious coincidence,” Sean said calmly as the two left the second store.

“Thought that too,” Tony was simmering. This man had likely precipitated the murder of a long time family employee and the kidnapping of his baby sister. He might be alive for the moment, but that could change.

That could change.

-

“You can't let Antonio run around with that rim scum like loose cannons!” Roberto complained, coming very close to making a demand of his father. “We need to let the authorities-”

“I grow weary of hearing this,” Jerome's deep voice cut into his son's tirade. “Do not presume to tell me what I must do in my own house, Roberto,” he added, a hint of menace creeping into his voice. “My daughter has been kidnapped, her governess murdered, and two of my security personnel shot down from ambush. After all that, you stand before me like some milk sop wailing for me to allow the bumbling fools we call police to 'handle' it?”

“And when your meddling, or theirs, gets Lucia killed?” Roberto shot back, finding some spine somewhere if only for a moment. “What then?”

“Then she is no more dead than she will be if we do nothing,” Jerome said flatly. “And I will hunt whoever is responsible for as long as necessary to ensure that everyone who played any part in my daughter's kidnapping suffers a painful and drawn out death. No matter who it may be,” he added for some reason that he would never be able to identify.

Roberto paled at that and Jerome did not miss the shaking in his oldest son's right hand as it rose to point at his father.

“If your refusal to cooperate with the police and the kidnappers is the reason for her death then that's on you, isn't it!”

“Get out of my sight,” Jerome Delgado said softly. “Do not come before me again until I call for you. Be thankful that you are my son,” he added. “Where you not, you would not be leaving here on your feet. Now get out!” the last word was a near shout as the older man came to his feet, fury etched on his face.

Roberto's courage gone, he got out. Fled would be more like it, as a man might flee the den of bear he had just awakened by accident.

Jerome sat heavily in his chair, his anger still coursing through him. Where had he gone wrong with that one? How had he managed to raise a coward like Roberto, right beside such a man as Antonio had turned out to be?

Luka, his youngest son, was no coward, but neither was he physically impressive. Small and wiry, he was also something of a genius with mathematics and was even now off planet at a prestigious university that hadn't cared what his last name was or who his father was. Wilhelm, Delgado's long time security chief, had already ordered increased security for Luka and his small staff. While a genius at his math, he was a bit absent minded about other things. His governess was still with him as well, now serving as his personal assistant, along with a 'butler' who was actually a retired marine. The two managed to keep Luka from starving (he was prone to forget to eat when occupied with a 'problem') and from walking in front of traffic. Jerome didn't envy them their jobs, but he was proud of his youngest son nonetheless. Perhaps he would be the one to lift their name from the fog it was shrouded in. The extra four man security detail Wilhelm had assigned to him would ensure he got the chance.

He had been concerned for Antonio as well, despite knowing that his middle son was extremely competent in taking care of himself. And having met his friend from the ship he lived and worked on, Jerome was much less worried.

Roberto rarely left the grounds of the mansion, as if he were some crown prince, sitting high in his castle with the world reporting to him. Jerome shook his head at the idea. Somewhere he had gone very wrong with his oldest son. Very wrong indeed.

“That is a heavy brow, my husband,” Antonia's voice gently intruded.

“I suppose,” he admitted. “Today is the day for it,” he added with a sigh.

“Roberto continues to disappoint you,” she gave a sigh of her own. “Are we completely positive that there was no mix-up at the clinic?” she asked calmly. Jerome's chuckle sounded like a truck grinding its gears as he shook his head in amusement.

It was an old joke, that Roberto might not have been from their seed after all and that somewhere a family of weaklings had been blessed with a strong and straight son while the Delgados themselves had their weaker offspring. But Roberto, like all their children, had been born on the grounds of the estate.

“Sadly, wife, there is no room for such a mistake to have been made,” he told her, a sad smile crossing his face. “Whatever else he may be, he is ours.”

“I never thought to see one of my own blood depend on others to safeguard his familia,” Antonia shook her head gracefully. “We cannot allow him to continue,” she added.

“No,” Jerome agreed. “He cannot sit in my place. Nor can we expect Luka to, either. It will have to be Antonio, or Lucia.”

“Lucia?” Antonia raised an eyebrow at that.

“She has the intelligence and the temperament,” Jerome nodded thoughtfully. “And should she survive this, I suspect she will have the drive as well, now,” he added darkly. “Seeing Elena murdered right before her eyes will either break her, or harden her to the point that she will fit this chair just fine.”

“I had not considered that,” Antonia admitted. “And Roberto?”

“His actions have been troubling and have come close to undoing what I have tried to accomplish all this time,” Jerome sighed in disappointment. “He ever skates close to the filth.”

“I will speak with him,” Antonia decided for them both. “It is time that we reined him in, anyway. His actions have not corrected, and he has been given both time and warning. For all we know, something he has done has led to this.”

“I had considered that,” Jerome nodded. “I. . .I am too angry to deal with him right now,” he admitted. “It is perhaps better that you do so. You have ever been better able to at least appear calm and composed.”

“A result of my upbringing, my husband,” Antonia smiled gently. She stepped behind him and hugged him, chair and all. “I am often as angry and as frustrated as you. I was merely taught from a young age not to let it show.”

“Whereas I was taught to use it to control people,” Jerome nodded, patting her hands with his own. “Very well, my wife. Inform our oldest of our decision, but. . .take heed of him. I believe that he is at the least vindictive against his own family.”

“I can handle Roberto,” she promised with a small kiss to the top of his head. “I will leave you to deal with other issues.”

Like where their daughter was, and who had her.

-

Lucia took stock of her situation, realizing it was grim. For the most part she was left alone in her confinement. She had been visited once with water, and allowed once to use the restroom though her hands had remained tied behind her, forcing her to rely on the masked woman for help. Her face flushed even now at the memory, but she cast it aside.

Returned to the damnable straight-backed chair that she had come to know so well, she was nearly immobile. She had tested her bonds and found them solid. Working at the ropes on her wrists had yielded no results, and her ankle were pinioned beneath here equally well. Her head was wrapped in cloth that covered her eyes and filled her mouth, making her desperately thirsty.

Her kidnappers were keeping their distance other than those two visits and the video she had been forced to make for her father. Even when not blindfolded, she couldn't tell anything about her captors.  There was a possibility that so long as she had no idea who they were, or at least so long as they thought she didn't have that information, they really would release her eventually. But she couldn't and wouldn't count on that.

Nor could she allow them to escape. They had murdered poor Elena right in front of her and someone would pay for that if she ever got the chance. Elena had been more than just a 'governess' to Lucia, being more almost a second mother. An older sister for a young girl in a family full of brothers. A tear formed in her eye as she thought of the older woman, now gone because Lucia would not listen.

I'm sorry, El, she thought to herself. I didn't listen. I didn't think anyone would care about me, not enough to do something like this. I was a fool and I'm sorry, but I swear that whoever did this will pay for it!

And they would, she promised herself as well. She would not die here in whatever rat-trap building this  was, held by pond-scum that had murdered a woman as close to her as her own family. She would not.

Resolve hardening, Lucia went back to work on the ropes around her wrists. It wasn't like she had anything else to do, anyway.

As she worked, she wished with all her heart that her brother Antonio was still around. He would come for her. He would kill these people for what they had done. He would save her.

But Antonio was far, far away. Sailing the stars on his absurd 'walk-about'.

She would have to save herself.

-

Freddy Parmano was having a bad day. Not as bad a day as several other people in the mall, but a bad day nonetheless. Having been wounded during the kidnapping, he had been taken to the nearest medical facility where a trauma doctor had taken one look at his wound and pronounced him fortunate, ordered an intern to dig the bullet out of his leg and sew the hole up, then abandoned him to work on whatshername, his co-worker.

That was exactly what was wrong around here, he told himself firmly. Too many people who thought they were better than everyone else. It never occurred to him that the trauma surgeon knew what he was talking about and there was no need for him to treat Freddy when someone with much more serious wounds was dying in the operating room.

And it never occurred to Freddy to care about the woman he had worked side-by-side with for the last five months of his life. A woman who had been kind to him, smiled at him every day even when she didn't really feel like it, and had taught him to do his job.

Of course, he hadn't really cared about that job, now had he? He'd only been there to set things up for the big day. Now that was done and all he had to do was go home and wait for his pay off. He'd known going in that he'd be 'shot', so he wasn't mad about that. He'd be well compensated for it after all.

He didn't know what the woman's issue with Delgado was but it was vitriolic. She hated the family with a passion that Freddy didn't have for anything at all and couldn't seem to come up with for anything either. He'd never seen so much venom from one woman. Every time she spoke about it, you could almost see it drip from her fangs. He shuddered slightly as he recalled the woman's icy warning about keeping his trap shut. It had occurred to him more than once since this morning that she could just as easily have shot him dead and tied up a loose end. That she hadn't told him she was probably going to come through with the money, too.

All he had to do was wait.

He took the pain medicine they gave him at the hospital and signed the forms the intern put in front of him, then the nurse, smiling and thanking them the whole time when what he really wanted to do was slap them out of his way. Stuck up assholes with college degrees, always thinking they were better than people like him.

He was still thinking that as he stepped through the automatic doors of the Emergency and Trauma center of a hospital that, ironically enough, had been financed in total by the Delgado family.

“Mister Parmano?” he heard a voice call out. Turning he saw two men, one lounging on a ground car, the other smiling at him.

“Yeah?” Freddy grunted.

“We were assigned to take you home, sir,” the smiling one said, indicating the car. “Just a precaution I'm sure, but better safe than sorry. Not to mention that in your condition there's no sense in you walking when we can drive you.”

Now this was more like it, Freddy decided. People seeing his worth. That's what Freddy craved. He'd gotten that once already and now here it was again.

Maybe his day wasn't so bad after all.

“Thanks,” he smiled at the other man. “That's awful thoughtful,” he added in his 'aw shucks' voice.

“Just part of the job, sir,” the man assured him. “Please, just have a seat and leave everything to us,” he opened the rear door.

Freddy smiled again and stepped off the curb and into the back seat. As soon as he sat down the other man, the one lounging on the car, slid in beside him forcing Freddy over against the far door.

“Just sit real still now,” the man's voice was calm and chill. Freddy turned to see a very large knife pointing at his groin. “I'm a little nervous,” the man was obviously lying. “No tellin' what I might do if you spooked me.” He dug the point of the blade into Freddy's pants to prove his point.

“Everyone buckled up?” the smiling man was now behind the wheel. “That door's locked tight for your safety, by the way,” he mentioned. “Just for you, grease ball.”

A different chill crept over Freddy as the car pulled away.

“What do you guys want?” he tried to calm himself. “I ain't got any money,” he added, hoping to fool them.

“Hear that, man?” the driver said. “He ain't got any money.”

“I heard that,” the man with the knife said softly. “Good thing we aren't after money, isn't it?”

“Then what are you after?” Freddy asked.

“Oh, we'll get around to that,” the driver promised as the car negotiated its way into what was generally known as the industrial district. “First we're gonna go somewhere more. . .comfortable. Private like.”

“What do you guys want with me?” Freddy whined. “I already got shot this morning!”

“Yeah, right in the fleshy part of the outside of your thigh,” the driver nodded. “Bloody but not life threatening. And powder residue on your pant leg too, Freddy. Mind if I call you Freddy? There was powder residue on your leg, Freddy,” the driver repeated. “Like the gun was really close to you when it fired.”

“Yeah?” Freddy sensed a trap but couldn't see it.

“Only you told the cops that you were shot from several feet away,” the driver reminded him. “Too far away to note any details about the attackers, in fact.”

“I. . .I musta mis-spoke,” Freddy stammered.

“That's what we thought,” the driver nodded. “Wasn't it partner? We thought he must of just misspoke, right?”

“No question,” the icy cold man next to Freddy replied. The knife hadn't moved a millimeter the whole time.

“Now look, fellas,” Freddy lifted his hands only to 'eep' in fear as the knife point dipped further into what, for him, was bad territory.

“Don't make me nervous now,” the man warned softly. “I'm scared enough as it is.” Freddy could see or hear absolutely no fear whatever in the man but decided not to point that out. The talk had distracted him during the drive, but his attention was pulled back to their surroundings when the car pulled inside an abandoned factory well out of the city proper.

The kind of place where people like Freddy were always found murdered.

“What are you guys gonna do?” he asked, his voice cracking with fear as he trembled slightly.

“We just wanna talk, Freddy,” the driver told him. “That's all.”

“What about?” Freddy asked as the car pulled to a stop inside the factory building. Rather than answer, the man with the knife opened the door and exited, dragging Freddy with him.

“About how you helped set up my sister's kidnapping, you piece of shit,” the driver wasn't smiling anymore.

CHAPTER FOUR

-

“Where could those two be?” Meredith asked. The crew were all gathered around the galley table aboard the Celia, Meredith and Lincoln having brought the two up to speed on Linc's condition, and Jessica presenting her 'sister' with her newly minted piloting license.

“Just said he had something he had to do, Cap'n,” Faulks shrugged. “Didn't say what.”

“Did he say how long it would take?” Meredith demanded.

“No, Cap'n,” Faulks shook her head.

“It's not like we can leave,” Linc told her. “We'll be here at least three days, I'm sure. More like a week if I have to have a follow up exam.”

“I know that,” Meredith nodded. “But there's work to be done while we're idle and we still need to eat!”

“Well, there's a lot to celebrate,” Lincoln smiled. He was too relieved at his good news to be upset by Meredith's over-reacting today. “Why don't we go out? Enjoy some of this famous cuisine that Tony was so proud of?”

“Well,” Meredith frowned. “We do have reason to celebrate. That is true.  Not only are you better than we had feared, but Jess got her license too.” She paused again, not missing the hopeful looks on Faulks' and Jessica's faces.

“All right,” she sighed in defeat, more for show than because she was really feeling it. “Let's do that then. We'll check the net and see what's supposed to be good here and head out. I assume that's okay with you two?”

“Yes Cap'n!” Faulks nodded enthusiastically. Jessica's head was bobbing right along with her, a megawatt smile on her face.

“Well, let's get looking then,” the Captain ordered.

-

“I'm tellin' ya I don't know nothin'!” Freddy Parmano nearly screamed. He was having a pretty bad day after all, it seemed. “I got shot!”

“Uh huh,” the man with the knife nodded, looking at him idly.

“You can't do this!” Freddy tried again.

“Sure we can!” the driver told him. “Just like you and your friends could kill my people and take my sister.”

“They ain't my friends!” Freddy shouted. “I barely know. . . .” he trailed off, suddenly aware of what he was saying.

“Yeah?” the driver asked.

“Nothin',” Freddy said quietly.

“Now, now,” the driver chided. “That ain't no way to be. Is it Sean?”

“No way at all, Tony,” 'Sean' agreed.

Freddy went cold at hearing their names. It was bad enough he had seen their faces, but now he knew their names, too. They meant to kill him!

“Hey, you can't kill me!”

“We can't?” Tony asked. “Listen to me, grease ball. You bastards killed my people and took my sister. I can do any damn thing I want to you. Understand that?”

Freddy was hanging from a crane hook by his feet, pulled high enough that he was almost looking them in the eyes. Just upside down.

“I didn't kill nobody!” Freddy blubbered, crying a little now.

“But you damn sure set it up, didn't you?” Tony shot back. “And you're about to tell me everything I want to know about what happened and why. Cause if you don't? Well, Freddy,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small case. “I flunked out of med school, Freddy,” he continued as he opened the case. “Learned a lot of stuff before then, though,” he added, pulling a small cylinder from the case before closing it and returning it to his pocket.

“Things like which parts of the body can be hurt the most, for instance,” Tony looked at him. “Like how much blood a man can lose and still live. Or stay conscious. How bones can be broken so that they can't really be repaired. Did you know, Freddy,” he asked as he walked behind the dangling thug, “that if I were to hit you right here,” he put his finger into Freddy's spine, “with a thin blade, or,” he re-appeared, holding the cylinder for Freddy to see, “this laser scalpel, that you'd be permanently paralyzed? Did you know that, Freddy? Cause I know that.”

“Don't do this,” Freddy pleaded. “Please.”
“Reckon my sister's governess pleaded with your friends not to kill her in cold blood, Freddy?” Tony asked calmly. “Think that Melinda wouldn't have begged not to be shot in the head so she could take care of her little boy? Or the other folks that died this morning?”

“Who?” Freddy asked.

“Melinda?” Tony repeated. “You know, the woman you worked with?” Tony grabbed Freddy's hair suddenly and pulled his head up.

“You worked with her for nearly six months and don't recognize her name?” Tony asked, his disgust clear. “You took the job all along just to set this up, didn't you?” he demanded, releasing Freddy's hair and letting his head fall back down.

“I. . .I just forgot her name for a minute,” Freddy stammered. “That's all!”

“Whatever,” Tony waved his free hand as if pushing the comment aside, walking back behind Freddy again.

“So, I'm gonna start with something simple, Freddy,” Tony told him. Freddy heard a whine and felt himself being lowered slowly. Suddenly there was a burning sensation on the back of his left leg, just above his ankle.

“AH!” he cried as he felt a snap in his leg. “What are you doing to me!”

“That was your hamstring, Freddy,” Tony came back to the front to look down at him. “I just burned your hamstring in two. Probably never heal, they usually don't. Made you a cripple, I guess. You'll walk with a limp the rest of your life. Of course, that may not be long if you don't tell me what I want to know. Who took my sister, Freddy? And where is she now?”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Freddy screamed through his tears. “You cripple me and think I'll tell you shit?”

“Oh, I know you'll tell me sooner or later,” Tony assured him, not impressed with Freddy's sudden outburst of courage. “Let's see what else we can do, here,” Tony walk behind Freddy again. “I could go for the other hammy right away, of course. Probably leave you on crutches or in a wheelchair for the rest of your life. But. . .let's try something else first, I think.”

Freddy felt his left shoe and sock being taken off, and tried to hit Tony, swinging wildly with his arms, which had been left free. He didn't come near to accomplishing anything, however.

“AH!” he screamed again as a searing pain hit his left foot. Tony came back from behind him, now wearing gloves and carrying something in his hands.

“This is your big toe, Freddy,” he said calmly, holding up the severed digit for Freddy to see. “Great thing about laser scalpels. They cauterize the wounds. I can carve on your ass all day and you won't lose hardly any blood. And now, you're down one toe,” Tony said, casually tossing the flesh over his shoulder. It flew through the air and landed on the factory floor where Freddy could see it.

“What next?” Tony mused. “I'm thinking either a finger, or an ear. What do you think, Sean?” he asked.

“I'd go with the ear,” Sean replied easily.

“Really?” Tony asked. “Why?”

“It'll hurt more,” came the reply.

“You bastards are crazy!” Freddy screamed. “You can't do this!”

“We've already established that I can do this,” Tony snorted. “I can in fact 'do this' all day,” he assured his victim. “But my sister might not have all day, so. . .I'm going to have to cut this short, no pun intended. An ear, you said?” he looked at Sean.

“Just my opinion,” Sean shrugged.

“Ear it is, then,” Tony nodded. Freddy screeched as Tony activated the scalpel again.

“WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!”

“I don't have time to wait, Freddy,” Tony shook his head. “My sister doesn't have time for me to wait.” He moved the scalpel toward Freddy's head.

“I don't know where she is!” Freddy promised. “I swear I don't know!”

“That's too bad, then,” Tony sighed, hesitating. “If you don't know how I can find her, then your usefulness to me is at an end, Freddy. I don't need you if you can't help me.” He stood, shutting off the scalpel.

“Yo. . .you're letting me go?” Freddy asked incredulously.

“In a manner,” Tony nodded. “I only kept you alive this long because I needed you to find my sister. Since you're no good to me for that, well. . .I can kill you, instead.”

“WHAT?!”

“Why keep you around if you can't help me?” Tony asked, shrugging.

“That's not fair!” Freddy screamed. “Killing me because I can't help you!”

“Was it fair that your friends killed my people just because they worked for my family?” Tony shot back. “You lay down with dogs, you get fleas, Freddy. You should have chosen who you associated with better. Not my fault, man.”

“They ain't my friends!” Freddy yelled. “I just worked for 'em!”

“And who might 'em' be, Freddy?” Tony asked.

“I. . .I can't tell you,” Freddy suddenly remembered. “They'll kill me.”

“Oh,” Tony nodded. “Well, I guess that should be a concern since they aren't here, and I am, and I am most certainly going to kill you for not helping me. But I admire loyalty, Freddy. You stick to that, hear? Be loyal. Great quality to have.” He reached into his jacket again and pulled out a pistol, then into a pocket for a suppressor. Freddy watched in horror as Tony screwed the suppressor onto the barrel.

“Please don't do this,” Freddy begged again.

“Got to, Freddy,” Tony sounded almost regretful. “You attacked my family. Can't have that.”

“I didn't do it!” Freddy objected. “All I did. . .” he trailed off again. He couldn't win this one.

“Was set them up,” Tony nodded. “I know. And you gotta pay for that. It's simple. You should always know who's yard you're playing in, Freddy.” He lifted the pistol and looked down the barrel as if checking the sight.

“I don't know where she is,” Freddy was weeping now. “I swear I don't.”

“I believe you,” Tony assured him.

“I can tell you who hired me!” Freddy tried to bargain as Tony turned the pistol toward him.

“Won't help me will it?” Tony asked. “Knowing who they are won't help me if I can't find them, right? See my problem, Freddy? I just don't have time for this,” he shook his head, almost speaking to himself. He lifted the pistol.

“WAIT!” Freddy screamed, trying to move himself around to ruin Tony's aim. “I can tell you where I used to meet with them! I can describe them to you and tell you what they look like! Even what names they used! It ain't probably their real names but that. . .that's something! Ain't it?”

Tony paused, looking at Freddy for a moment before semi-lowering the pistol.

“I'm listening.”

-

“What is this shit about cutting off her fingers?” the electronically disguised voice demanded. “That isn't part of the deal!”

“Can't care less about the deal,” the woman said coldly. “Delgados hurt my family. Might have been a long time ago, but we Falcones, we remember. Got long memories. So when I get whatever it is you want outta the old man, the girl gets cut up. Payback.”

“You can't do that!” the Voice demanded. “That will ruin everything!”

“Not my problem,” Falcone replied casually. “We made a deal, and I'll keep it. Falcone's word is always good. We never said nothin' 'bout what shape she was in when I let her go. I'll send her back in pieces. Might even still be alive they get her quick enough,” she added coldly.

“If this ruins the deal, then there's no money,” the Voice informed her flatly.

“Didn't do it for money,” Falcone told him. “Be nice to have but I can get by without it, needs be. Don't call me back 'less you got something important to say.” With that she cut the call short.

“You really gonna cut 'er up, ma?” one of the young men lounging in the room with her asked.

“Yep,” Terase Falcone nodded. “I really am. Her grandfather sent my uncle back to my family in a box. Her old man probably helped do it. What did I raise you about that, boy?”

“Blood for blood,” the man nodded.

“Right,” Terase nodded again. “Don't go gettin' soft on me, boy,” she warned. “I won't put up with it.”

“Did any of us look soft this morning, ma?” Another spoke up. Her oldest son. He had put the bullet in the Delgado pawn on the floor that the girl had been crying over.

“That was this mornin',” his mother snorted. “You stay that way, we'll come outta this just fine. Where's Jamie?” she asked, looking for the youngest of her four sons.

“Gone to the restaurant to get us some food,” Sonny, her oldest, replied. “Got you some lasagna,” he added.

“Good boy.”

-

“That don't sound like much,” Tony mused as Freddy finished. In truth it was way more than he'd expected to get from the man, and much faster. Good help was hard to find these days.

“That's all I know,” Freddy sobbed. “They was gonna contact me when they got the money. I was only supposed to call them if something happened.”

“How was you supposed to call them, Freddy?” Tony asked. The terrified man rattled off a com address.

“It's a restaurant called Rigotta's. I met them there before,” he added helpfully.

“And the boss was a woman?” Tony frowned.

“Older woman, and mean,” Freddy nodded frantically. “Cold. Harsh even. Got a bad hate for you Delgados, too. Said it was something from way back and she wanted some payback.”

“Why my sister?” Tony demanded. “She couldn't have hurt anyone.”

“Easy target,” Freddy said without thinking. “Easier to get to, easier to deal with. And worth more, money wise,” he added.

“Well, Freddy, that sounds a lot like everything you know,” Tony sighed. “Sean, what you think?”

“Sounds like it,” Sean nodded. “Surprised an idiot like him knew that much,” he added, his face betraying nothing.

“I'm not an idiot!” Freddy shot back.

“You're a useful idiot,” Tony corrected. “They used you, and you don't even know who 'they' are. You're going to die protecting them and they didn't even make you a real member of their family. You're a loser Freddy.”

“But I told you everything I know!” Freddy protested as Tony raised his pistol again. “There's nothing else I can do for you!” he said, not realizing he was putting the period on his own life.

“That's true,” Tony nodded and pulled the trigger twice.

And Freddy Parmano died like that, hanging from the ceiling of an abandoned factory. Never having been noted for being anything but a loser.

“Where to now?” Sean asked, even as Tony left a message for whoever found Freddy's body.

“Whether he knew it or not, Freddy gave me some useful information,” Tony told him, using a common stiletto to pin the 'note' to Freddy's dead body.

“Yeah?” Sean asked as the two got into the car.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, starting the vehicle and moving out. “He mentioned a restaurant that he met them in, remember? Rigotta's? Just so happens, an old, old enemy of my grandfather owned that place. Probably still does. So, I think we'll head over there and have supper. What you think?”

“I could eat.”

-

“Well this is the place,” Linc said, looking at the sign.

“Net reviews say this place has some of the best food around here,” Meredith nodded.

“Rigotta's,” Faulks noted, reading the sign. “Reminds me o' something,” she murmured.

“Yeah?” Linc looked at her.

“Don't know what,” she shook her head. “Maybe it'll come to me,” she shrugged.

“Well, how 'bout we eat, while we wait,” Meredith smiled. “Lets go.” The foursome entered and was soon seated by the hostess who took their drink order, showed them the menu interface, and promised the waiter would be with them shortly.

“Nice place,” Jessica noted.

“Sure is,” Lincoln agreed. The place had a very old world feel, he decided. Soft light lamps along the wall gave illumination without being overly bright, and the décor had more wood than most places bothered with these days. Even the seats looked like the genuine article, as did the bar.

“Like something outta the movies,” Faulks noted.

“Was just thinking that,” Linc nodded. “And this menu has some great looking items on it, too,” he added.

“Hey, look!” Jessica said suddenly.

-

“I see a problem,” Sean said as he followed Tony inside.

“What?”

“Look,” he nodded. Tony followed his gaze to see the rest of the Celia's crew sitting at a table by the window. Jessica looked on the verge of waving to them.

“No way they didn't see us,” Sean sighed.

Tony looked right at Jessica and shook his head subtly. Slowly. Maintaining eye contact the whole time. He touched his lips with an index finger in a move that would look casual to anyone who happened to be looking their way.

-

“Wait,” Jessica said softly. “Don't wave, or call out,” she added when Lincoln turned at her announcement. “Don't look over there, either.”

“What?” Meredith asked, turning in spite of the warning. “Is that-”

“Don't,” Jessica repeated, her voice a little too icy, Lincoln thought. “Tony doesn't want anyone to know we know them,” she told the others. “He motioned for us to ignore them.”

“He did?” Meredith frowned. “How-, what do you mean?”

“Shook his head, Cap'n, and made a shush motion,” Faulks didn't miss much. “He ain't wanting us to take note of 'em. Best we don't, ma'am,” she added when Meredith started to look around again in spite of the warnings.

“I'm still their boss,” she almost hissed.

“They're into something, Cap'n,” Faulks said quietly. “Doc, he don't ask for stuff. He don't ask for help. But this time he did, said it was something he had to do and couldn't get out of. Whatever he's doing, I imagine we don't want no part of it. Best we do what he wants,” she recommended.

“I want to know what's going on,” Meredith complained.

“Mere, stop it,” Linc ordered gently, never looking up from the menu. “Whatever it is, if we need to know then he'll tell us when he can. All Tony had on his mind when he left the ship was food. If he and Sean have skipped that for whatever they have to do, it's got to be important. Now let this go and lets eat and pretend we don't know them.”

Meredith didn't like it, but the last time she'd ignored Linc's advice, things had gone badly and could have ended much worse. That in mind she did as he said, though clearly not wanting to.

“Fine.”

-

“Girl must have got the message,” Tony whispered. “The others started to look but stopped. We're good for the moment.”

“Look,” Sean nudged him, and then nodded to the bar where a young man with blond hair and wire rim glasses was gathering two bags from a waiter into his arms.

“Looks a lot like the one Freddy called 'Jay', don't it?”

“Yes, it does,” Tony said softly. “What are the odds?” he murmured.

“Sometimes the stars bless us,” Sean shrugged.

“What?” Tony looked at him, startled.

“Sometimes the stars bless us,” Sean repeated. “What is it?”
“My mother used to tell me that when I was a kid,” Tony said, almost accusingly.

“Mine too,” Sean nodded. “Always heard it was an old saying. I guess it must be,” he shrugged again. Tony looked at him with suspicion for a moment longer, but then returned his attention to 'Jay', who was headed through the restaurant for the door on the other side of the building.

“We need to back out nice and easy so we don't attract attention,” Tony said suddenly.

“Table for two?” a young woman asked suddenly.

“Not just yet,” Sean managed to answer even as Tony hit the door behind them. “We were supposed to meet our party here, but we haven't seen them yet. We can't contact them, either. We'll have to see what the holdup is.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “We're open until eleven tonight!” she said brightly.

“Hopefully we won't be that late,” Sean smiled disarmingly and turned away. If nothing else, they could always try and get the others to say they were supposed to meet there but got the times wrong. That would probably hold up.

Once outside Sean circled the building looking for Tony. His friend wasn't in a good frame of mind right now and there was no telling what he might do if left unsupervised. While his family obviously had power on this planet, that didn't always mean anything. He knew that from bitter experience.

He also realized that he would have to watch what he said, as well. He'd never thought about Antonia Delgado teaching her children anything from their home world. Obviously, she had, and he should have thought of it. He was getting soft.

The sound of a struggle drew him to an alleyway and he rounded the corner to see Tony standing over the young blonde man, gun in hand. The other man, 'Jay', was on the ground, bleeding from the scalp. Even as Sean made his way to him, Tony was rifling the pockets of the other man. He removed a handgun and keys from the semi-conscious man's pockets.

“Here,” Tony said, handing the gun and the keys to his own car to Sean. “Help me get him in the trunk,” he ordered. Stowing the gun behind his belt, Sean did as asked.

“Get my car and follow me,” he told Sean. “The auto driver knows the way, just wait for it to boot and say 'quarry'. It will show you the route.”

“Got it,” Sean told him, not showing any irritation.

“I'm pretty sure this guy can help us,” Tony told him, already moving. “Hurry,” he urged. “When he doesn't turn up, his family will be looking for him.”

Sean hurried back to the car and was soon on his way, Tony already gone with their prize.

-

Roberto Delgado was pacing the floor in what he called his 'office' when Marisa came to get him.

“Your mother wishes to see you, Mister Robert,” the older woman told him.

“What does she want?” Roberto snapped at her.

“She did not inform me of that, Mister Robert,”

“Tell her I'm busy!” he demanded.

“I will not,” the older woman said evenly. “I have told you what she said. Those were my instructions. I will inform her that I have done so.” With that she closed the door before the oldest Delgado offspring could speak again.

Roberto cursed the woman behind the closed door. She was too arrogant by half, depending on her association with his mother to protect her. Well, his mother wouldn't always be in a position to protect her, and when she wasn't. . . .

Until then however, appearances must be maintained. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and then stalked to his mother's study, where she conducted her own business. He knocked, heard a soft reply, and opened the door, stepping inside. His mother was seated behind her desk, regal and composed. Except for her eyes, he noted. Her eyes were like ice.

“Roberto,” Antonia pointed to a chair. “We must speak. Rather I will speak, and you will listen. Sit.”

He sat. Just to maintain appearances, he told himself.

“There are a few things that must be set straight, I think,” his mother leaned back in her seat slightly, looking at him. “Important things.”

“Is now the time for that, mother?” Roberto asked. “With Lucia missing and Antonio doing God knows what?”

“Antonio is looking for your sister, my son,” Antonia's voice dropped another degree. “Which is more than I can say for you. And he is not the issue I wish to discuss.”

“He's interfering in a police investigation!” Roberto exclaimed. “What if he gets her killed!”

“The people who took her and those who helped arrange this will be responsible for her death, Roberto,” his mother told him coldly. “Any attempt to blame your brother, should the worst befall your sister, will be. . .unfortunate. Extremely so,” she added. Roberto paled at that but merely nodded in reply.

“Your reluctance to do that which is necessary has placed your father and I in a curious position,” Antonia told him. “One which is at least partly of our own making,” she sighed.

“You mean my reluctance to break the law?” Roberto shot back.

“Roberto, do you think us stupid?” his mother asked him, catching him by surprise. “Do you think you can be involved in the things you have involved yourself in and us not be aware? Your dedication to 'law and order' is somewhat hypocritical, my son,” her voice held contempt for her oldest son. “You have long been 'dabbling' in issues and activities that your father has fought to keep our family clear of. I am not convinced that Lucia's kidnapping is not the result of your actions, either,” she added coldly.

“I haven't done anythi-”

“Roberto,” Antonia sounded as if she pitied him. “Enough. Not only are you far on the wrong side of the law you preach to us, but you are equally disloyal and harsh with this family's people. Something that no Delgado in generations has been, I remind you.”

“We have to keep a firm hand,” Roberto tried to get himself back on track.

“Which is not your job, ninio,” his mother shook her head. “It might have been, someday, had you turned out better,” she sighed. “But I doubt that you will ever sit in your father's chair, Roberto. Your dedication to the family is too. . .weak, my son. I do not know where your father and I went wrong, but somewhere we did. We did a poor job raising you apparently. Your actions and your attitude show that all too clearly.”

“What do you mean, 'might have been'?” Roberto demanded, rising part way out of his chair before his mother's cold voice stopped him.

“Sit,” she ordered him and her voice rang with such authority that he did so automatically.

“I meant exactly what I said,” she told him once he was back in his chair. “You have made it impossible for your father to name you as his successor. You have done that, Roberto. It is you that has left him with a number of distasteful decisions to make, among them who to name as his replacement. That should not have even been a decision to make, had you shown even an ounce of courage and conviction. Instead you have chosen to pretend you are some royal dandy, dispensing orders from his castle and ruling over his people rather than leading them.”

“What a disappointment you are to me, my son,” she sighed, shaking her head slowly.

“I'm the disappointment?” Roberto snapped, stung by his mother's words. “Me? Antonio deserts the family and then flunks out of school, Luka is an airhead except where his precious numbers are concerned, Lucia, God protect her, cares about nothing but making sure she has the latest dress or purse or shoes, and I'm the disappointment?”

“You fail to see it, don't you my son?” Antonia looked at him pitying. “Luka is a rare genius, Roberto. His prowess in his chosen field brings fame and honor to the family. Your sister is still mostly a child, but has shown intelligence and even promise at times despite her youth. Her incentive to learn has been much less than your own, seeing as she was all but certain never to be in a position of power or authority, with you waiting in the wings. As for Antonio,” her voice hardened, “that is another matter.”

“Of course it is,” Roberto snorted. “Your favorite can do no wrong.”

“I have never favored him over you or your brother and sister,” his mother replied evenly. “And he did no wrong. You do not know this, but your brother did not 'flunk' out of school. He was expelled.”

“Expelled?” Roberto rocked back at that. “He was expelled and you say he's done no wrong!”

“He was expelled because of his connection to this family,” Antonia told him coldly. “Caught in a scheme of his roommate, punished for hiding his true identity so that the name Delgado did not cause him grief, or bring him favor. He wanted neither. But a certain scheme that his roommate concocted left him at the mercy of the school. Rather than punish the wrong doer, who has a father that is both an alumnus and a donor, they chose to blame your brother instead to protect the roommate.”

“Your brother committed no wrong, Roberto,” she told him flatly. “It was discovered that his name was not the one he had used, and that was used as a lever against him. To protect the guilty.”

“And he took it,” Roberto snorted in contempt.

“To protect the family,” Antonia nodded. “Such a scandal would have undermined the work your father has done in bringing the family name to a better place in the known galaxy. Work he has undertaken for you, and to a lesser extent for Luka and Lucia. To try and make your lives better.”

“Of course,” she continued with a voice full of scorn, “you have worked behind his back to ensure that mud continues to stick to our name regardless of his attempts to prevent it. Haven't you, my son?”

“I-I don't know what you're talking about!” Roberto blustered.

“Of course not,” Antonia's voice cut like a knife. “Fortunately for us, I have records of your actions,” she tossed a folder on the desk in front of her. “Go ahead,” she told him. “Have a look for yourself, my son.”

Roberto eyed the folder as if it were a viper, coiled to strike him.

“No?” his mother's voice drew his eyes back to her. “Suddenly remembered the things you have done, Roberto? How convenient.”

“It's just business,” he said weakly. “That's all.”

“Business that your father has decreed this family will take no part in,” Antonia's voice was hard. “Business that he has fought since his rise to the chair in which he now sits to rid this family of, once and for all. Only to have his son and one-time heir go behind his back and return us to such ways.”

“Such a disappointment you are, Roberto,” she said again, her voice sad. “Leave my sight, my son,” she was suddenly tired of looking at her oldest child. “Know that no one in this family will take your orders anymore. Know also that any power your once wielded over them is gone. And know, once and for all, that no matter what happens you will never rule this family, Roberto. Now get out,” her voice was suddenly a whip, cracking across the distance between them.

“If you are wise, you will stay out of sight,” she added as Roberto jumped to his feet. “Your father's patience is at an end where you are concerned. And I have little left as well. Now go, and consider what could have been yours had you simply been a man.”

Roberto Delgado fled his mother's office like the child he had once been, and still acted like.

Behind him Antonia lifted her right hand from her lap and returned the small pistol she had been holding to her desk drawer.

CHAPTER FIVE

-

Jamie Falcone spluttered and spit as he was doused with water for a second time. He shook his head and tried to wipe his eyes, but found he couldn't move his hands. Or his arms.

Or his legs.

Struggling, he managed to get his eyes open through the water streaming off of him to find himself strapped to the front end of a heavy truck. The kind they used in rock quarries to haul loads of stone to a crusher. In front of him was a pit mine, filled with water from recent rains and runoff.

“What the-”

“Wake up, shithead,” he heard a cold voice say and turned to see two men looking at him.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “And what is this?”

“You take a man's family and don't even know who he is,” the better dressed one shook his head sadly. “What kind of world are we living in,” he lamented.

“Wha-who-?” Jamie fought to get his equilibrium under him.

“Name's Anthony,” Tony smiled. “Anthony Delgado. Got a sister named Lucia? You met her this morning, in the Gavanza. Coming back to you now?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Jamie blustered. “Let me outta this!” he struggled against the chains holding him.

“I might be persuaded to do that,” Tony nodded, his face thoughtful. “Of course, I'll need my sister back first.”

“I don't know anything about your sister, you bastard!” Jamie yelled in defiance. “Now let me outta this!”

“Hm,” Tony suddenly pulled his suppressed pistol from his jacket and shot Jamie in the foot.

“AHHH!” the man screamed, pulling in vain against his bonds as he tried to instinctively to grab his injured foot.

“Now,” Tony continued on as if he hadn't already killed one man today and just shot another. “Let's talk about my sister. Where is she, and how many people are with her?”

“Fuck you!” Jamie screamed.

“Well, that's just rude,” Tony looked aghast, promptly shooting Jamie again, this time in the left knee just above his already bleeding foot.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Jamie's voice was shrill this time as he screamed through the pain. “I'll kill you!”

“No, you won't,” Tony shook his head. “You'll be lucky to leave here alive in fact,” he pointed out. “The only chance you have of that is if my sister is found, unharmed. You're going to tell me where she is, 'Jay'.”

“The hell I am!” Jamie shouted. “Help! Somebody help!” he screamed toward the rim of the quarry.

“No one around, Jamie,” Tony sighed, calmly shooting the struggling man in his right foot.

The bound man screamed what Sean assumed were obscenities but they were in a language he couldn't speak. Maybe Italian. Clearly Tony could understand it since his face flushed.

“What is it?” Sean asked.

“He just told me that his brothers were probably 'enjoying' my sister's company about now,” Tony ground out. He raised the pistol again but Sean caught his arm.

“Wait,” he said gently. Tony looked at him, surprise on his face.

“This ain't working,” Sean pointed out. “Gimme a minute.”

“Okay,” his friend nodded, taking a step back and trying to get a grip on his anger. He needed information more than he needed revenge. Better to let Sean try than screw up.

Sean walked slowly over to the blubbering and bleeding man, observing him with no pity whatsoever. Pulling his knife, he used the great blade to split the man's pant legs one after another, removing the material and leaving Jamie Falcone in his underwear.

“What the hell!” Jamie stammered through his agony. “You some kinda perv?”

“Something like that,” Sean nodded calmly as he next cut through Jamie's underwear, leaving him bare from the waist down.

“Now,” he stood, knife still in hand, looking down at the Falcone man. “You just informed my friend that your brothers are probably raping his sister about now. You had any part in that yet?”

“I ain't no rapist!” Jamie shot back.

“So you ain't, then,” Sean nodded. “Well, you don't tell him what he wants to know, I'm going to fix you where you won't never be one. Understand what I'm saying?” Sean's voice was soft, yet menacing for all that. As he spoke he stepped forward and ran the blade of his knife just above Jamie's manhood, leaving a thin trickle of blood running toward his groin.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jamie screamed. “You're crazy!”

“Been told that,” Sean nodded calmly. “I'm waiting,” he added, running the knife down the inside of Jamie's thigh and drawing another trickle of blood. “And I ain't got much patience.”

“Fuck you!” Jamie managed to spit, a glob of spittle hitting Sean's shirt just below his face.

“It won't be you,” Sean didn't even wipe the fluid away before he pressed the knife to Jamie's testicles.

“WAIT!!” he screamed, struggling for all he was worth. “WAIT! I'LL TELL YOU!”

“Don't believe you,” Sean shook his head. “You waited too long. I ain't convinced you won't lie.” He pressed the blade a little harder.

“STOP I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL TELL YOU!” Jamie screamed as loud as he could. Sean hesitated a minute, then stepped back, looking at him.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Wh-who are you?” Jamie asked, looking up at the man who had threatened to emasculate him through tear dimmed eyes.

“I'm the devil,” Sean said softly. “Come to collect. Pay now, or pay later?” he asked, moving the knife back down.

“WAIT!” Jamie tried to move. “JESUS GOD I'LL TELL YOU JUST STOP!”

“Already stopped once,” Sean told him. “Told you I ain't got much patience.”

“SHE'S IN THE OLD FOUNDRY NEAR THE PORT!” Jamie screamed.

“How many with her?” Sean asked.

“No one!” Jamie shook his head. “We go and check on her every two hours or so! I swear!”

“Who is we, and where are they?” Sean demanded. “How many are there?”

“My ma and my brothers,” Jamie sobbed, broken. “Just us. Five of us. That's all.”

“Liar,” Sean said at once and stuck the knife under Jamie's scrotum.

“I SWEAR IT'S THE TRUTH!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“There were eight men this morning when she was taken,” Sean said easily. “Where are the other three?”

“Paid off and gone, I swear!” Jamie told him.

“Who were they?”

“Just soldiers, that's all,” Jamie told him. “Nobodies.”

“Don't believe you,” Sean shook his head and put pressure on the blade.

“I SWEAR IT'S TRUE THEY'RE NOBODY!” Jamie yelled, his voice going raw from his screaming. “Just hired guns, that's all!”

Sean stood and took a step back, looking at Tony.

“He might be lying,” Tony mused. “Trying to save himself.”

“Leave him here,” Sean shrugged. “More time we waste following a bad lead, more likely he is to bleed out. If he dies, it's his fault.”

“I'm not lying,” Jamie sobbed. “Please, take me to a hospital,” he begged. “Please.”

“Hell no,” Tony snorted. “We'll go and see if we can find my sister. If we do, we'll be back for you. If not, we'll still be back for you, but it'll be to finish you off. Got that?”

“She's there, I swear,” Jamie bawled.

“She better be,” Tony said softly before clubbing the Falcone son unconscious.

“He'll probably bleed out anyway,” Sean mentioned, stowing his knife.

“Couldn't care less,” Tony shrugged. “Let's go. Leave his car,” he ordered.

“Know this foundry, I take it?” Sean asked, getting into the car.

“Old Falcone place,” Tony nodded. “Went outta business years ago. 'fore I was even born, in fact. The brother that ran the place went missing and they closed it a few months later.”

“Hm,” Sean noted.

“Yeah.”

-

“Jamie should have been back by now,” Terase Falcone noted, looking at the chrono on the wall. She and her sons were in a small office building not far from her family's old foundry grounds. The Delgado girl was being kept there, alone, for the time being. Terase didn't want any of her sons around the little tramp, just in case.

“Probably flirting with that waitress, what's her name?” Sonny looked at his next youngest brother.

“Amelia, I think,” Santino 'Sandy' Falcone said after a minute of thought. “Yeah, pretty sure that's it.”

“He ain't got time to be messing with no dame right now,” Terase said harshly. “Get him on the line!”

“Yes ma,” Sonny agreed, hiding a sigh. He punched in the connection and waited but there was no answer.

“Probably left it in the car,” Sonny said as his mother glowered.

“I'm surrounded by morons,” she shook her head. “Worse, you're my own brood. Haven't I taught you boys anything at all?” she demanded.

“Ma, he just went after the food,” Sonny objected. “Look, I'll call the restaurant, okay? He may still be waiting, that's all.” He began to punch in a new number.

“He better be,” she said darkly. “If he's wasting time trying to hook up with some floozy while we're doing a job, I'll whale his skin off.”

“She ain't a floozy, ma,” Terrance, or Terry as he preferred to be called, defended. “She's a good girl from a good family that's been soldiers for us a long time. Smart, too.”

“I don't care what her pedigree is, you idiot,” his mother snarled back. “He can chase tail some other time. We got work to do right now!”

“Yes ma,” Terry sighed. He and Jamie were less than a year apart, and the only two of the boys who shared a father. They were closer than any of the others were to each other, or to their mother for that matter.

“How long?” Sonny was saying. “Okay then. Thanks.” He cut the call and looked at his mother.

“He left nearly twenty minutes ago, ma,” Sonny told her. “Should be here any time.”

“If he ain't here in another fifteen minutes, call them back and get someone looking for him. And see if that floo-that girl is around or if she's missing too.”

-

“Well, this is pretty good,” Linc noted as the foursome from the ship dug in.

“Sure is,” Faulks agreed. “Not as good as Doc, but ain't bad. Ain't bad.”

“Delicious,” Jess agreed, slurping a spaghetti noodle into her mouth. “Thanks 'sis',” she grinned.

“You're welcome,” Meredith shook her head in amusement. “And yeah, it is good. I agree it's not as good as-” she broke off as the restaurant was suddenly a beehive.

“What's going on?” she wondered aloud even as the waitress came to their table. She looked rattled.

“I'm sorry folks, but we'll have to ask you to leave,” she told them without preamble. “We appear to have a gas leak in the kitchen. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please, take the food with our compliments,” she handed them take-out trays. “I'll have to ask that you hurry,” she added before walking to the next table.

“I don't smell no gas,” Faulks frowned. “What the hell is going on here?”

“We should take our food and go,” Jessica said suddenly, packing her food away quickly. “Something's wrong and it's got nothing to do with a gas leak.”

“How can you know that?” Meredith demanded, though she took a tray for herself.

“I can't tell you because I don't know,” Jess admitted. “But I'm telling you, the faster we're out of here, the better off we are. And we need to make a call to our wayward cook and mechanic since they were supposed to meet us here. Make sure they get the word,” she had raised her voice slightly, ensuring she would be heard. At the same time she looked pointedly at each of the others, urging them to follow her lead and not argue.

“Almost forgot that,” Faulks agreed, not quite as loud but still loud enough to be heard. “Anyway, we was going to the holo after eating, so we can just finish on the way and still see the vid,” she closed her own tray and stood. “I ain't seen a movie in a long time. Looking forward to it!” she sounded excited. Give Faulks her due, she caught on quickly to things like this.

Linc nodded in silence as he stood, tray in hand. Meredith frowned at how this was happening, accustomed to being in command. But she had learned to follow Jessica's 'feelings', and did so now. Faulks was also rarely wrong and her meter seemed to be pegging.

“Well, let's go then,” she announced. She tossed a few coins on the table for the waitress and the foursome moved. As soon as they were out of the door Jessica looked at Faulks.

“I need your com.”

Faulks handed the unit over without a word and then moved to take the point.

“Where to, Cap'n?” she asked softly.

“Back to the ship,” Meredith ordered just as quietly. “We're out of our element here and this is not the best place for us. Let's get back to familiar ground.”

“Right,” Faulks nodded and cut a hole through the pedestrian traffic as they made their way back to the Celia's berth.

Behind them, Jessica was talking softly into the com unit.

-

“What?” Tony answered abruptly as his com buzzed.

“Well that ain't no way to be,” Jessica's voice came back to him. “What the hell are you two into?”

“Nothing that concerns the rest of you,” Tony told her. “Keep it that way.”

“It concerns us now,” Jess told him flatly. “Five minutes ago we were run outta that restaurant along with everyone else. Waitress gave us a cock and bull story about a gas leak in the kitchen. But there wasn't a gas leak and the whole place looked crazy.”

“Is that right?” Tony asked. “Tell Sean that, I'm driving.” He handed the com to a startled Sean, who took it and raised it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Sean, it's Jess,” he heard, as the girl launched into a repeat of what she'd told Tony.

“Is that right?” he asked the same thing Tony had without thinking about it.

“You two share a brain,” Jess muttered. “We're on our way back to the ship.”

“Good,” Sean told her. “When you get there, stay there until morning. Safer. Anyone asks about us, we abandoned you at the test and you haven't seen us since.”

“What the hell are you two doing?” she demanded. “Captain wants to know,” she added.

“Better she doesn't,” Sean said simply. “Don't call back unless it's an emergency. It's best for all of you. Anything else?”

“I passed my test,” she said suddenly.

“Good to hear,” Sean replied. “Talk to you later.” He killed the connection. “Girl passed her test,” he told Sean.

“She tell you about the restaurant?” Tony asked.

“Yep,” Sean nodded. “Captain wants to know what we're doing. Probably get fired,” he added.

“I'll take care of it,” Tony promised. “Probably time I came home anyway from the looks of things. Always a place with us for you, amico,” he added.

“Thanks,” Sean was non-committal. He didn't know about being around Antonia Delgado too much as yet.

Tony was driving as fast as safety allowed, but it was a long way to the foundry.

“Should have got a air car,” he told Sean. “We could be above the traffic.”

“Gotta file a flight plan with those?” Sean asked.

“Well, yeah,” Tony frowned. “It's automatic, inside the city,” he added.

“Better we do it this way then, so long as we're in time.”

Tony went faster, safety forgotten.

-

Roberto Delgado was still reeling from his conversation with his mother. How had she found out about his 'business' dealings? He had been so very careful. Then a thought crossed his mind that made him blanch; if she knew that, what else did she know?

It would be just like his mother and father to allow him enough rope to hang himself. In their minds he had all but made himself an enemy, and neither had anything other than a direct and dim view of how to deal with enemies. If they knew everything he'd done. . . .

He didn't allow the thought to finish. Instead he grabbed a small bag from his closet and began to toss items of importance into it. He needed to be somewhere else before the two of them realized what all he had done. Anywhere else, so long as he could hide. There was no point is saying 'out of their reach' because he knew full well that nowhere was far enough to be out of their reach.

Ten minutes later, his bag stuffed with three changes of clothes and all the money and other valuables he had on hand, he took the private elevator to the garage. Two minutes after that he was leaving through the back gate in his private vehicle, heading for the port. He'd lay low a day, find a ship going somewhere and be gone. He had plenty of resources socked away to allow him to get away cleanly and live in relative comfort somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

-

“Roberto has left the estate,” Wilhelm reported to the Master and Mistress of the house.

“Follow him,” Jerome ordered simply.

“It will be done,” the iron haired security chief nodded and left. Jerome looked at his wife.

“That must have been some kind of talk you had with our eldest offspring, my wife,” he said blandly.

“I merely explained the new dynamic to him,” Antonia replied calmly. “That his activities were known to us and that he would never sit where you are now, regardless. Also that his days of having any power or authority over family matters or employees was at an end.”

“I see,” Jerome sighed. “We have not heard from Antonio.”

“That is a good sign,” Antonia assured him. “If he were in difficulty or had he hit a dead end, he would have told us.”

“Even if they are making progress Antonia, we must face the fact that we may not get our Lucia back,” her husband said heavily.

“I will face such a fact only if we must,” she told him firmly. “Until we know otherwise, I choose to believe that she will be returned to us. Have some faith in Antonio, Jerome,” she urged.

“You know that I do,” he smiled wanly. Tiredly. “What do you think of his amico? Galen?”

“He is a dangerous man,” Antonia said at once. “Raised in the Arida to be a wahoun. War Hound. Dog of War.”

“The Aridas?” Jerome frowned. “Isn't that desert?”

“For the most part,” she nodded. “His mother hailed from the same tribe as mine. I cannot imagine how a woman of the Crystal Caves found life in the desert. Though I have always heard that there were oasis in the Aridas and that was where the War Dogs actually lived. In olden times, the desert protected them from others while also crafting some of the fittest survivors of the planet. And fiercest warriors,” she added almost in afterthought.

“And he is one of these. . .War Hounds?” Jerome asked.

“He is,” she nodded.

“You think that important?” he asked.

“It could be, yes,” she nodded. “But that is a discussion for another time, my husband,” she got back on track. “Now, we must turn to the trouble with Roberto. What are we to do with our oldest?”

-

Terase Falcone looked at the chrono and made her decision.

“Call the restaurant and tell them to send someone to look for Jamie,” she ordered. Sandy nodded and made the call. “Tell 'em we think something ain't right. He should o' long been back by now. I want them looking for him. Make sure they understand that,” she growled.

“Yes ma,” Sandy nodded, his face schooled.

“Sonny, go and check on the girl,” Terase ordered. “Me, Terry and Sandy are gonna back track Jamie. Maybe he's had trouble along the way, and maybe it's nothing, but I wanna know. Once you check on the girl, catch up to us. Lets go boys.”

“Yes ma,” a chorus of voices replied. Sonny was up and gone before the others, his ground car rocketing off toward the foundry ten minutes away. Behind him, his mother and brothers headed for town.

None of them noted the plain ground car that had sped by just ahead of Sonny leaving. It had passed them by when no one was at the window looking, all of the boys intent on their mother's orders.

-

“That it?” Sean asked, seeing a smokestack in the distance.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Ain't been used in a long time. Decades, really. After the brother went missing they shut it down. I have no idea why. One man usually doesn't stop a place like that.”

“Maybe he was the only one interested in it,” Sean shrugged.

“Could be,” Tony nodded as he steered the car to the gate. A high fence surrounded the place, plastered every so often with 'No Trespassing' signs. Yet the gate was open.

“That's odd, don't you think?” he remarked. Sean nodded his agreement.

“Very.”

Tony took the car through the open gate and drove toward the foundry, his eyes roaming all around.

“There,” Sean pointed. “See that?”

“See what?” Tony was looking but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Tire tracks,” Sean pointed out. “Odd you'd find fresh tracks in a place so old that's been shut down so long, don't you reckon?” he asked. Tony looked again at the dark track, noting how smeared it looked as it began to fade, the further it was from the building.

“Looks like they drove through something like tar,” Tony observed.
“Follow 'em,” Sean said. “There's nothing else around here and that's definitely out of place.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed, turning to follow the tracks.

“That report says they took your sister away in a ground car delivery wagon,” Sean reminded him.

“That is true,” Tony mused. “They stop at that door,” he pointed to an overhead door in the distance. The tracks either originated or ended at that door, depending on where the foreign substance was picked up.

“I'd say they picked it up in there, whatever that is,” Sean told him. “Tracks only started inside the gate. That might mean they pulled inside. What would be in there, you think?”

“I have no idea,” Tony admitted. “I don't even know how a place like this would operate to be honest. You?”

“Never seen one,” Sean admitted. “Hide the car and lets have a look inside. This looks promising.”

Five minutes later they were standing at a pedestrian door around the corner from the door in question. Using a pry bar taken from the trunk, Sean popped the door open while Tony kept a look out.

“Careful now,” Sean said, handing Tony a small but powerful hand torch. “Might be someone here and might not. Remember he said they weren't keeping anyone here, but they were checking on her regular.”

“Right,” Tony nodded, his pulse quickening. If they were right, then Lucia was somewhere inside this foundry right now.

-

The foursome of Lincoln, Meredith, Faulks and Jess were about half-way back to the ship when it happened. Completely unexpected and out of the blue.

“Yo, Genessa!” someone shouted. None of the four bothered to look, not recognizing the name or the voice. It was a crowded street with people bustling to and fro.

“Genessa, wait up!” the voice called again, closer this time.

Suddenly Jess squeaked in alarm as a hand grabbed her firmly by the arm and whirled her around. Inside her mind a series of almost machine like movements had her hand moving before she was finished gasping in surprise. Fingers together, curled slightly at the tips, the hard outside edge of her hand struck beneath the chin of the man holding her arm, slamming into his throat with a sickening crunch that everyone heard plainly.

Eyes wide in surprise the man fell to his knees, taking Jessica with him as his hand locked around her arm in a near death grip. Face blue, gasping for air, it was clear that the man wasn't going to make it more than a few seconds.

“Who the hell is that?” Faulks demanded, even as she looked around them in case there was another threat.

“I don't know!” Jess all but screamed, fighting to get the man's hand off her. “He grabbed me and I punched him without thinking! I was scared!”

“We need to get some help or he's going to die,” Lincoln said calmly, falling to his own knees, he managed to free Jessica's arm and help the collapsing man to the sidewalk beneath them. He began convulsing as he lay there, fighting to get air into his lungs through an esophagus that no longer functioned.

“What do we do?” Meredith asked, kneeling by her husband's side.

“We're going to have to cut his throat open and tube him,” Lincoln told her, reaching into his pocket. He removed a stylus, opening it and dumping the guts on the ground, keeping only the steel tube.

“I need a-” he stopped as a knife appeared over his shoulder, already open.

“I cleaned it with this,” she held up a small flask. “Should kill anything on it.”

“Let me see that,” Linc said. Taking the flask he poured more of the bourbon on the man's throat and then onto the stylus barrel.

“Mere, have you called Emergency?” he asked calmly.

“No,” she started and reached for her com.

“I'm on it,” Faulks reported, com to her head.

“Thank you, Faulks,” Lincoln and Meredith said at the same time. Lincoln handed Jessica the stylus barrel.

“Hold this and keep it clean,” he ordered. “Mere, I'll need you to help me. Hold his head and don't let him move. Faulks, give that to Jess and then hold him down. If he moves while I'm doing this it will finish him off.”

“Got it,” Faulks said, tossing the open com to the girl as she moved around them to kneel astride the man, hands on his shoulder but low enough that Lincoln could reach his throat.

“Here we go,” he said to himself more than anyone else. Probing with his free hand, Lincoln found what he was looking for and gently pressed the knife into the man's throat, carefully slicing a vertical line through the trachea area. There was surprisingly little blood for a cut throat.

“What's all this, then?” a new voice demanded. “Here now, what'cha think you're doin'?”

Meredith looked up to see a uniformed police man watching them, hand on his gun.

“Stop that and step away, you hear!” he ordered, drawing his sidearm.

“If I stop, he'll die,” Linc said without looking up. “His windpipe is broken,” he explained as he took the stylus and pressed it to the slit he'd just made. “If I can't get him to where he can breathe, he's a goner.”

“And are you a doctor?” the officer demanded.

“Not lately, but I used to be,” Linc said, again without looking up. “I retired three years or so ago to follow my wife around the galaxy.”

The officer didn't know what to say to that and his com unit buzzed just then anyway. He answered it with his gun still in hand. A few terse words later he was talking again.

“Well, that was my dispatch, sending me here for an ambulance call. You call the Emergency Services, missy?” he asked Jess.

“Yes sir,” she almost squeaked, holding up the com.

“Very good then,” the man nodded, returning his sidearm to his holster. “How did this fellow come to have this broken windpipe, then?” he asked.

“He gra-”

“He assaulted my sister,” Meredith broke in before Jess could convict herself. “Grabbed her from behind and jerked her around as we were walking down the sidewalk. She's had a little self-defense training and when he grabbed her she swung at him. What would have hit a person her size in the nose caught him in the throat instead.”

“That right, little missy?” the officer asked. A clearly upset Jessica nodded shakily, tears forming in her eyes as she watched Lincoln work.

“And. . .there,” Linc said and suddenly the blue faced man was breathing, if raggedly, through the stylus barrel. His color was slowly returning when the ambulance arrived and two paramedics jumped out.

“Clear away, there!” one ordered hastily as he knelt beside the man. “Well,” he said after an assessment. “Who was it did this?” he asked, looking up as his partner continued to assess.

“I did,” Lincoln admitted.

“Fine work for working with nothing,” the man complimented. “You probably saved this guy's life.”

“Just something I learned in school,” Linc shrugged.

“Let's get him loaded,” the man told his partner, running to get their gurney. Two minutes later the 'victim' was loaded and they were applying an IV as the driver pulled away from the curb on their way to the hospital.

“I'll be needin' to speak with you folks and get a statement,” the officer told the four shippers. “From the sound of it, you aren't locals,” he added, after taking their names.

“We're shippers,” Meredith nodded, head still reeling from everything that had happened in that last few minutes. “We put in this morning. We had been out to dinner and were on our way back to our ship.”

“Where were ya eatin', then?” the officer asked.

“Rigotta's,” Lincoln offered. “We all had to leave because of a gas leak.”

“A gas leak?” the officer looked up, frowning. “Rigotta's is part of my beat and I've not heard of any gas leak.”

“We couldn't smell any gas ourselves, but the waitress brought us these,” he lifted his take out, “and told us we had to leave. They did give us the food on the house, though,” he added.

“I see,” the officer scribbled some notes. “What's your boat's name, and where is it berthed?” he asked. Meredith gave him the Celia's docking number.

“And when is it you were planning on leaving?” the officer wanted to know.

“Not for several days,” Meredith answered. “My husband has to have a cataract removed from his eye day after tomorrow, so. . .it'll be up to the doctor when we can go. From talking to him, I'd say at least a week,” she added.

“Hope it goes well,” the officer told Lincoln. “And you say you've no clue who this fella is now?” he asked Jessica, who was trembling now.

“No sir,” she shook her head. “I. . .he grabbed me and spun me around and it scared me and I. . .I didn't mean to hurt him. I did it before I thought!” she exclaimed. Inside her mind, she could almost feel the gears turning as her brain responded on instinct. Or something very much like instinct anyway.

“And what was it he called you?” the officer asked again.

“Vanessa?” Jessica asked rather than said. “Jenessa? I. . .I really didn't pay attention since it wasn't me,” she admitted. “I heard it, I mean. He was yelling I guess, but. . .I mean, it wasn't my name, so I kinda ignored it, you know?” she wiped a tear away.

“And he just up and grabbed you from behind was it?” the officer asked.

“Here,” she held up her arm, clearing showing already darkening bruises on her pale 'spacers' skin. The officer frowned and made a note of that, then raised his pad and took several close up pictures of the bruises. It was clearly a hand print.

“All right, I think that 'll do it, for now,” the officer told them finally. “Since you've said you 'll be here at least a week, I'm going to officially request that you stay here that week until we can sort this out. Possible that a detective will want to come out and see you, though I can't say for sure. Seems to me this is pretty open and shut as the saying goes. See here,” he punched a few buttons on the electronic pad and showed them the screen.

And there were the four of them walking along, not bothering a soul. From behind the unknown assailant appeared and grabbed Jessica, pulling her around to face him. Judging by how she jerked under his arm he had pulled her hard, which might have been where the bruising came from.

“Between the CCTV and your statement I think that's all we need,” the officer shrugged. “Like I said, pretty open and shut. I'm sorry you folks had to encounter something like that on my beat,” he said sincerely. “You can head on back now, if you're a mind. Ma'am, I didn't ask before, but do you think you'll need medical attention?”

“I . . . I don't think so,” she stammered, shaking her head. “We have a medic on board though. If I have trouble I'll see him, and if he thinks I need a doctor I'll see one.”

“Right enough then,” the man nodded. “Looks like I'm off to the hospital. You folks try to have a decent rest of the evening,” he nodded politely and headed on his way. The four waited for a minute, then turned as a group to head toward the Celia once more.

“Jess, do you have any idea who that guy could have been?” Meredith asked quietly.

“No, Captain,” the smaller woman replied just as softly. “I've never seen him before in my life. And I'm sorry that I caused such a scene,” she added.

“Wasn't your fault, Jessica,” Lincoln said to her. “That man came at you from behind and assaulted you. He shouldn't have. This is on him, whoever he turns out to be.”

“He's right,” Meredith said firmly. “We shouldn't be surprised I guess, being as this is about as lawless a planet as you can find,” she added darkly.

“I don't think so,” Lincoln said calmly. “The police were there in under a minute, and he was very professional. And it's not like the streets are overrun with criminals, Mere. This was just one idiot. Out of all these people we see, just one man laying hands on someone doesn't make a lawless planet. Some of the places we've visited in the last three or four months are a lot worse than Lucia.”

“Gotta agree with 'im on that, Cap'n,” Faulks said over her shoulder. “Remember Hartley Station, for instance. Not to mention Elvy. It was Elvy, wasn't it?” she frowned. “Yeah, it was,” she nodded, as if answering her own question.

“This planet is still home to an organized crime syndicate,” Meredith objected.

“Well, it still seems like a nice place, one idiot aside,” Lincoln shrugged. “And it looks it, too.”

No one could argue that. The streets of San Lucia were clean and orderly, with trees and bushes everywhere and a median along the street that was grassy and planted with native wild flowers. It was almost picturesque, really. Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Meredith fell silent about the ills and ails of San Lucia.

“Let's get back to the ship.”

CHAPTER SIX

-

“Man it's dark in here,” Tony said as he switched on the small light.

“No windows or skylights and I'd say the power has been off a good while from the look of it,” Sean agreed. “Look,” he pointed and Tony aimed the light in that direction.

There in the dark sat a rather ordinary delivery vehicle, with only front and rear windows. Dark, dented and dinged, with a business name that Tony had never heard of before.

“I'd say that ain't normally here,” Sean told him. “Lets keep going,” he urged, motioning for an open doorway.

The doorway turned out to simply be an entrance way. Whatever this building had been used for, the equipment and furnishings were long gone now. They found themselves in a hallway of sorts that seemed to curve around as it disappeared in both directions.

“This place did look round from the outside,” Sean admitted as he looked one way and then the other. “Maybe this runs all the way around? Opens into different chambers, or rooms?” Both men were out of their depth in a manufacturing facility like this one.

“I guess,” Tony shrugged. “Doesn't matter right now, though. Lucia may be in one of 'em. We can search quicker if we split up.”

“I'll take right,” Sean agreed, using a smaller version of the light he had offered Tony.

“If it doesn't go all the way around, we'll meet back here,” Tony suggested. Sean agreed with a wave and a nod, then disappeared down the hallway. Aiming his light to the left, Tony set himself and then started on his own search.

-

Lucia jerked as she heard them. First it had been the door, or so she suspected. She hadn't heard the door when her captors 'visited' her before, but that didn't mean anything. She wasn't paying attention then like she was now.

Then she heard the voices. Nothing more than a soft murmur, really, and she was probably lucky to get that through the cloth circling her head to keep her blindfolded and gagged. She couldn't make out if they were male or female, either. She hoped for male. So far all of the males had been at least cordial. The woman in the group was a hateful beast.

She reminded herself that one of those 'males' had killed Elena, though.

I can't let my guard down for a second, she told herself.

She had been trying to get at least some slack to the rope around her hands, but so far had been unable to accomplish much other than finding the top knot. Twisting her hands in order to reach it had rubbed her wrists raw however, and tears were soaking her blindfold as she continued to work at it. She was pretty sure her wrists were bleeding now, but she had to ignore that. If she was going to live she had to focus on escaping, no matter how it hurt.

Maybe the blood will help, she told herself. Anything to give me some kind of edge at all.

She stopped working as she heard the sound of something rattling down the hall, followed by a muted curse.

-

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Sean muttered, disgusted with himself. “Some warrior you are,” he said to the air around him. What looked like an empty drink container left in the hallway had found its way before him and he had kicked it by accident, sending it rattling down the hall.

My ancestors are turning away in shame, he shook his head at his mistake. Letting the weak beam of his light shine ahead of him, he made sure there were no more surprises waiting for him before continuing down the hallway.

-

Tony didn't jump too badly at the sound he thought. He did jerk around, gun in hand and light shining back the way he had come. He couldn't see Sean anymore to see if he was in trouble, but then he hadn't heard anything. Of course, he didn't figure Sean would scream even if someone shoved a red hot poker straight into his eye.

Still, noise was noise and maybe there was someone back that way. He debated on what to do, but finally decided to keep going. Sean could look after himself and Lucia couldn't. With that he aimed his light back down the hallway and continued looking.

-

Sonny didn't bother to look around him as he pulled into the foundry grounds. He did stop at the old guard shack to get a light they had left there for this purpose and a bottle of water from the stores inside. He didn't know why they hadn't stored this stuff inside, unless it was in case the girl escaped.

It was too bad, really. She seemed okay to Sonny. But his ma was adamant that the Delgado 'bitch' would die, and die horribly at that.

It was just too bad.

-

They were still some way away from Rigotta's when Terase got a sudden feeling that something wasn't as it should be. She called it her 'gut', though she had been told time and again that saying such wasn't 'ladylike'. As if she cared.

“Turn around,” she ordered Terry, who was driving. “Take us to the foundry, right now.”

“What about Jamie?” he asked, even as he pulled the vehicle around.

“He's either all right, or he ain't,” Terase said softly. “If he is, I'll skin him alive for worrying me. If he ain't, then he can tell whoever got him where the girl is. And if they already got him, then they know about us and will be lookin' for us. We need to be on familiar ground.”

“Yes ma,” Terry nodded and hit the accelerator.

-

Sean peeked around the next opening, expecting to see nothing as he shined his light into the area. He saw exactly that until the light passed quickly over a figure sitting in the middle of the room. A woman, tied in what had to be a horribly painful way, her arms stretched out behind her and legs drawn sharply under the chair she was in. Her face was completely covered, serving to both keep her quiet and in the dark.

Sean checked the rest of the room, careful to look for any sign of a booby trap. At the same time he reached for his personal com unit, intending to call Tony. One look at the screen told him that was out. Inside this place his unit wouldn't function. Putting it away, Sean continued to move into the room. He made a complete circle of the bound figure, again looking for any sort of trip wire or sign of a fail-safe before going near her.

-

Lucia fought to keep calm as she heard the steps in the room. Perhaps the most frightful thing about her captivity was not being able to see her surroundings and having her hearing muffled like it was. It left her completely unable to assess threats or see what her chances would be of escape depending on who was here.

Whichever one of them this was, he was hesitant for some reason. A deep dread settled onto her as she thought about why he would circle her like this. There was only one reason she could think of and despite her best intentions she let out a muffled sob. Whichever one this was, he either meant to take her, or he meant to kill her.

I can take it, she told herself. And if he frees me to rape me, then I'll have my chance. I'm docile, she reminded herself. I'm just a broken little doll, dickhead. I'm no threat to a great big he-man like you.

She couldn't make herself smaller but she could adopt a less combative attitude and try to let it show. If he underestimated her even for a few seconds, that would be all she-

“Patience,” a voice whispered behind her. “I'm making sure there are no traps here. Are you Lucia?”

Hope soared in her heart at those words. She didn't know who this was, but. . .but. . . .

She nodded her head frantically, trying to talk around the cloth filling her mouth.

“Hold on, I'm almost finished,” the voice told her. She could almost feel him behind her, whoever it was. Suddenly she felt cold metal near her wrists and tensed.

“Easy now,” the voice was calm and reassuring. “Don't move while I cut this away. You're bleeding but it's not bad. Hold still.”

She forced herself to remain immobile and felt the blade cutting through the thick and rough rope. Her hands were suddenly free after hours in that chair and she almost fell forward out of it, her ankles still pinned beneath the chair and leaving her unable to steady herself.

“I got you,” she felt a strong-arm snake around her middle, holding her securely but not tightly. “Hold still and let me get your ankle.” She felt steel again and suddenly her right ankle was free. Another strong hand took her leg and moved it to the front, as if knowing she wouldn't be able to after so long bound in the same position.

“Can you hold yourself while I move around and get the other ankle free?” the voice whispered right into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She nodded and felt the hand around her middle gradually leave. The presence shifted to her left and she felt her left ankle being freed, her foot set down before her as the other had been.

“Now, let's get this off of you,” he whispered. She felt a tug at the back of her head and suddenly her blindfold was gone, though that didn't help much. The only light was the weak beam from the hand torch her possible rescuer was carrying. She carefully pulled the wad of cloth from her mouth, working her jaw open and closed for the first time in hours.

“I'm Sean Galen,” the voice whispered out of the dark. “I fly with your brother Tony on the Celia. We landed today, this morning, to bring our pilot to see a doctor and he went to his parent's place. That's where he learned what had happened to you. We been looking for you ever since.”

“Is Tony here?” Lucia asked roughly, almost coughing the word out.

“Yes, he went the other way around,” Sean told her. He looked down at her bare feet. The ropes had rubbed her ankles until they too were bleeding. He passed the light around looking for her shoes but came up empty.

“What are you doing?” Lucia asked.

“Looking for your shoes,” he told her, unbuttoning his shirt. “I need something to wrap your feet in.”

“Why?”

“We're in a foundry,” Sean told her as he cut his shirt down the middle and began wrapping her ankles, careful to 'basket' her feet as well. He used the rag she had been blindfolded with to tie one, and the gag to tie the other.

“That's not as good as shoes but it will help,” he told her, standing. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“Of course I can!” she whispered, almost indignant. But when she tried to stand her legs gave out at once and had Sean Galen not caught her, she would have hit the floor. Pressed against his chest, she looked up at him, the poor light not letting her see much, but. . .he was definitely well muscled. Even in the dark she could tell that and felt her face flush as he helped her stand. His scent was slightly musky to her, a heady odor that she found almost intoxicating. Who was this guy?

Without a word he swept her up in a bridal carry and started moving toward the door, offering her the flashlight as he went.

“Light the way for us,” he told her.

So enraptured was she by his presence that it took all her efforts to turn away from him and aim the light down the hall.

Where had this guy come from?

-

“Great, a damn dead end,” Tony muttered as he came to a solid wall. The chamber it opened into was empty and there was nowhere to go but back.

“I thought places like this had an emergency exit or something,” he muttered as he made his way back toward the entrance way. They needed to find Lucia before some of that Falcone bunch came to 'check' on her.

He could see a weak light bobbing in the opposite hallway and was about to call out when a much brighter light blasted through the entrance. Though caught by surprise, Tony shut his light off at once, hoping Sean had done the same.

-

Sonny shook his head at the dark interior of the old catalyst plant. He had no idea what had been done here in years past, but there was no light from the outside in most places, making the light in his hand a necessity. He checked the van over and found everything still the same before turning the light to the tunnel entrance. He had to hurry and check on the girl so he could catch up to the rest of his family.

He was looking forward to seeing his ma's face when she found Jamie sitting somewhere talking to a 'floozy'.

And to Jamie's when he realized how mad their ma was. He was looking at the floor, shaking his head in rye amusement.

Which was why he didn't see the light coming down the hall from his left.

-

“Shut it off,” Sean said at once, using the last second of light to find an opening to duck into. Lucia hurriedly shut the lamp off, holding it in her lap with both hands. Her rescuer hugged the wall with his back, never offering to put her down which was just fine with her. At the moment she felt safer than she ever had in her life for some reason and didn't want that to change.

Ever.

“Shhh,” she barely heard him whisper in her ear, and suddenly she was shifting in his arms, her feet angling for the floor. She felt her feet touch the floor and then his hands gently lean her against the wall so she could stand. With that done, she could see a dark outline against the illumination coming down the hallway as Sean Galen pulled an enormous knife from his belt and held it down to his side.

That illumination, brief though it was, allowed her to get a better of idea of just how tall and broad-shouldered Sean Galen was as well.

Get a grip, Lucia, she shook her head. This is not the time or the place for this crap!

-

Tony hugged the wall, caught out in the open as a man walked into the hallway and turned down the way Sean had gone, a large hand-held spotlight in his hand. The man never bothered to turn the light his way and thus Tony escaped detection.

The ideal thing to do right then was shoot the guy, but. . .what if there were others with him? If he wasn't the only one then a gunshot might alert the rest.

Not to mention that if he missed his target in this labyrinth there was no telling where the bullet would go. Including right into Sean Galen.

Sean is smart, he told himself. No way he didn't see this light coming. He'll know it's too big for the light he gave me.

He'd let Sean do his thing, he decided. Though he would follow, just in case.

-

Lucia was afraid to breathe. She was free and she was determined to stay that way. Now, someone was coming and all that stood between her and whoever was in the hallway was a man she had known for all of five minutes. Maybe ten.

Sure, he said he knew Antonio, even worked with him, but. . .did that really mean anything? Would a guy who worked in space be a match for one of the people that had killed so many in order to take her?

If he couldn't, Tony wouldn't have brought him along, she told herself. He's too smart to weight himself down. And he at least holds that knife like he knows what it's for.

And oh, but he must have been the very biggest boy in whatever school he attended, she decided, looking at those broad shoulders that narrowed so nicely down to. . . .

Stop it, stop it, stop it! She screamed mentally at herself. For God's sake get a grip! Then she paused in her mental castigation of herself to ponder something else;

I hope he's good looking.

And suddenly she heard something clattering down the hallway.

-

Tony cursed aloud before he thought as he kicked what sounded like an empty bottle down the hall in front of him.

“Shit.”

The light whirled immediately, blinding him as the man turned to look back at the noise. While Tony couldn't see it, he felt certain the man had drawn a gun.

“Who the hell are you?” the voice demanded.

-

Sonny's first thought when he heard the racket behind him was that the girl had somehow gotten loose, and was lost in the dark tunnels of this place. He spun on his heel, expecting to see the girl. Since he was expecting to see her, he didn't even pull his gun.

Only to find himself confronting a man wearing a casual suit and trying to shield his eyes from the light with a hand.

“Who the hell are you?”

-

Sean seized the moment, not knowing what the guy in the hallway would do. He didn't know if Tony had made all that racket on purpose or not, but he didn't intend to let the chance go. Slipping out of the small side room he had hidden Lucia in, he could see the man's outline clearly in the back-light of the powerful torch he carried.

A torch now pointed down the hall at Tony, leaving him blinking like an owl in the harsh light.

-

“Was'at?” Tony slurred, allowing himself to weave a little. “Huh?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sonny demanded. “This is private property!”

“Private party ya say?” Tony replied, doing his best imitation of a drunk. “I didn't get a name, just someone. . .hic. . .shed dere waz a parrrty,” he slurred out. “Zere a co. . .urp. . .cover charge?”

“I said private property you drunk asshole!” Sonny shouted. “How the hell did you wind up here?”

“Frenzsh drop-edy me off,” Tony answered, weaving a little to the other side. “Thaz a great li' show, by da ways. Purrrty,” he drew the word out, still weaving.

Dammit Sean, where the hell are you!

“Your friends picked a bad place to drop you off, fella,” Sonny told him matter-of-factly. “I can't let you be in here, wandering around. And I can't let you leave, either. So what can I do with you, now?”

“It's not him you have to worry about,” a harsh whisper in his ear told him just before a sharp pain hit his right kidney as a powerful arm wrapped around him throat.

Sonny died never realizing that the guy he'd been talking to wasn't drunk, and wasn't there because of some prank.

Or that he was looking at his 'victim's' brother.

-

“Get your ass down here!” Lucia heard Sean say. “And try not to kick anything else on the way,” he added.

“Hey, you did it first!” a very familiar voice shot back, no longer sounding drunk.

“Tony!”

“Lucy?” Tony called back, his face turning to a mask of shock. “Holy . . . Lucia, is that you?”

“Oh, Tony!” Lucia came running out of the small room only to run right into a bloody Sean Galen, still holding the massive knife in his hands. She looked down at the still shining light to see. . . .

“Urk!” she covered her mouth and looked away.

“Sorry,” she heard Galen offer. She waved a hand to him as she managed to get her empty stomach under control.

“No, no. It's okay. Bastard deserved it for killing Elena.” By that time Tony was there and took his baby sister in his arms, wrapping her up tight. Relief flooded her as she fell into his chest and began to sob.

“I was so scared!” she told him, her voice broken from too long without fluids. “She was going to cut me up, Antonio! Cut me up and send me to momma and poppa in pieces!”

“Shh,” Tony tried to comfort her. “It's okay now, baby sister. I got you. It's all gonna be okay.”

Sean ignored this by play as he knelt to clean his knife and pick up the lantern the dead man had been carrying. He turned the man over, looking at his face. He could see a slight resemblance to the one they had left chained to a truck in the quarry.

“Know him?” he asked Sean, light on the dead man's face.

“Nope,” Tony shook his head. Sean rifled his pockets and came up with a leather identification folder. Flipping it open he found;

“Sonny Rigotta Falcone,” Sean read. “Well, that explains the restaurant, don't it?” he asked. He stood, pocketing the wallet.

“We need to make with the gettin' the hell outta here part of the plan,” he told Tony. “There's two more plus the old woman. And this is their ground.”

“All right,” Tony nodded. “Lucy, you gotta buck up now, okay? Like the old man says, you take it easy once you get home, right?”

“I'm okay,” she sniffled, trying to keep Sean from seeing her. “I must look awful,” she said without thinking.

“She's fine,” Tony told his friend dryly. “If she can worry about what she looks like, she's fine.”

“Shut up!” his sister slapped his chest. “I've been here for. . .I. . .I don't know how long I've been here,” she admitted suddenly.

“Just since morning,” Tony promised. “We'll talk about that later. Right now we need to be leaving.”

Pulling her along with him, Tony followed Sean out. They passed the van and moved back to the door Sean had jimmied open. The former assassin eased the door open and looked outside. He could see one ground car and no one with it. Motioning to his followers to come outside, they headed for Tony's vehicle, staying close to the building.

Even as they moved to the car, they could hear another vehicle approaching.

“Okay, they're probably going inside,” Sean said quietly as he helped Lucia into the rear seat. “You get down on the floor and stay there,” he ordered the girl, who nodded, looking up into his face. This was the first time she had seen him clearly in all that had happened, and she froze for an instant.

He was covered in blood though it wasn't his own. It didn't matter to her. He had saved her. And her brother. She suddenly threw her arms around him and hugged him, blood and all. Startled, Sean instinctively grabbed her arms and pulled her away from him.

“Inside!” he ordered and she hurried to obey. He shut the door and turned to find Tony looking at him oddly.

“What?” Sean asked.

“What happened between you and my sister, man?” he demanded.

“What?” Sean repeated, this time puzzled rather than inquiring.

“You were alone with her in the dark for how long?” Tony asked, head cocked to one side. “And then she up and hugs you like that? Known you, what? Fifteen minutes?”

“Are you serious?” Sean looked at his friend in amazement. “What-we ain't got time for this bullshit!” he hissed, running to the far door. “We need to get the hell outta here!”

“You're avoiding the question, Sean,” Tony said as he got in behind the controls. “What happened between you and my sister.”

“I'm right here, you know,” Lucia said from the back floorboard.

“This doesn't concern you, Lucy,” Tony told her gently. “You just stay there and let us take you home,” he started the car.

“And you,” he looked at his friend. “You still haven't answered me.”

“Drive us outta here, you idiot!” Sean demanded.

“Let me worry about the driving,” Tony told him, engaging the drive and moving around behind the building. “You need to worry about why my baby sister suddenly felt the need to hug your bloody ass right out here in front of God and everybody!”

“I don't believe this shit,” Sean sighed, settling into the seat.

-

“Well, that's Sonny's car,” Sandy said, completely unnecessarily.

“Is it?” Terase said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “I was wondering who that could be!”

“Really?” Sandy looked at her as he parked their own ride next to his brothers. “You don't recog-, oh,” he stopped, realizing that his mother was staring at him intently.

“Had to be a mix-up at the hospital,” Terase was shaking her head as she got out. “Had to be.”

“What's that mean?” Terry asked. “Hey, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Terase asked as a ground car came tearing around the plant, heading for the gate as fast as it would go.

“Who the hell was that?” she demanded.

“I dunno,” Sandy said. “Want us to go after 'em?”

A cold feeling suddenly hit Terase.

“Find Sonny!” she ordered her two sons. “NOW!” she yelled, galvanizing the two into action. The three of them plunged into the foundry, lights sweeping all around them.

“Sonny!” Terase called, pulling a suppressed pistol from behind her back. When she got no answer, she called again, louder.

“Sonny!” her voice echoed off the walls of the empty chambers.

“Find him,” she snarled to her other two sons who pulled their own weapons and headed into the hallway/tunnel. They didn't have to go far.

“Oh, no,” Terase muttered as she saw the still form lying on the concrete. As she fell to the floor by her oldest son's body, Sandy knelt with her holding the light. Terry moved on down the hallway, returning in less than a minute to report that the girl was gone.

Terase cradled her son's body in her arms, rocking him back and forth.

“Ma, what do we do?” Terry asked. “Jamie's still gone,” he reminded her.

“You think he's still alive?” she snarled back. “Jamie gave us up and got Sonny killed in the bargain!” It never occurred to her to take the blame for leading her 'boys' down the wrong path to begin with. All were cold blooded murderers and had raised by her to be that way. Determined to prove that a woman could make it anywhere a man could, she had used her sons as a hammer to pound her way back into the Family's business, trying to restore the 'honor' they lost when she was just a girl.

All of that had culminated in this job; force Jerome Delgado to step down and name his oldest son as his heir, then mail his daughter back to him in a bag. After that no one would doubt that Terase Falcone had what it took to make it on San Lucia. After that, things would change.

“Ma, we need to do something here,” Terry prodded gently. “We lost the girl and they know who we are. We're down Sonny and Jamie and we already paid off the others. What do we do now?”

Terase said nothing as she continued to rock back and forth, the body of her oldest son still cradled in her arms. Her two living sons exchanged a look in the glare of the lanterns, concerned and not a little afraid. They had never seen their mother like this.

It wasn't that Sandy and Terry weren't concerned for the loss of Sonny or possible loss of Jamie. But Sonny was dead and Jamie with him most likely, or if not then turned rat to save himself. They on the other hand were still very much alive and wanted very badly to stay that way.

“Ma, what do we do?” Sandy asked. His only reply was a slight keening sound from their mother that it took a minute for them to recognize.

Terase Falcone was crying.

-

Jerome Delgado opened his desktop com unit, face in a frown. Very few people had access to that particular contact. He was surprised to see it was audio only, which mean it was coming from a portable.

“Pop, we got her,” he heard Tony say at once. “It was the Falcones. Old woman named Terase and her four sons. We got two of them already. . .well, one and a half possibly since we left one partly alive at the quarry. I gave the crew the rest of the week off with pay, by the way,” he added as an afterthought. “I needed room to work. Anyway, we got Lucia and we're headed home as fast as we can.”

“Is she injured?” Jerome asked, dreading the answer even as he was relieved to hear she was alive.

“No, she's okay,” Tony told him. “Might be a little dehydrated and might go into shock, but otherwise she's fine. Her wrists and ankles are raw from where she was tied but other than that I think she'll be okay. I, ah, don't know how to play this exactly, since we, ah, might have gone to a few extremes to get this done. I don't know what to do, pop,” he admitted.

“I know what to do,” his father assured him, confidence surging through the older man as he learned that his daughter was safe, as was his son. “Come home, Antonio. Both of you. All of you, come home. I'll take care of everything else.”

“We'll be there soon,” Tony promised before cutting the connection. Jerome punched a button on his desk top.

“Wilhelm, come to me at once,” he ordered and then switched to another line without waiting for a reply.

“Yes?” his wife's voice answered at once.

“Our son returns, with our daughter,” her told her. “We must make haste. There is work to be done.”

Less than a minute later Antonia was standing in her husband's study, watching as he gave orders to their security chief.

“I'll have it taken care of at once,” Wilhelm assured him with a nod and left the room.

“Your War Hound and our son have done some rather harsh things apparently, in search of our daughter,” Jerome's tone was approving rather than reproachful. “We must make arrangements to protect them from repercussions by the law. Also,” he sighed, standing, “we now know who perpetrated this act against us. Terase Falcone.”

“Falcone?” Antonia frowned. “I. . .I don't recognize that name,” she admitted.

“It is an old hate, from long before we met,” he admitted. “In my younger days, my father had a feud with the Falcone. He was part of the Rigotta Family by marriage I believe. He tried to muscle in on my father's legitimate operations by threatening his less than legal ones.” Jerome looked up at her.

“I'm afraid my father was a bit more direct and less patient that I am,” he shrugged. “The Falcone did not survive his attempt and as a result his group folded completely. There is still a good bit of animosity between myself and the Rigotta organization, though it is mostly for show I think. Or I did think, anyway,” he added. “Apparently for this Terase, it was more than that. We will see what Wilhelm can find out about her.”

“In the meantime our daughter will be here soon, safe in our care once more. We need to get rid of the that police officer and. . .decide what we will do with Roberto,” the words were heavy on him.

“I told you I would deal with Roberto,” Antonia said gently. “Have we any way to prove that he was part of this?” she asked.

“None I am aware of,” Jerome admitted. “His actions today, however, and his reluctance to back our own lead me to believe that he knows more than he has shared with us.”

It was a convoluted way of speaking, but it was more habit than anything. A way of saying something without saying it. A way of communicating that stretched all the way back to Earth. “Kill him” became “will someone not solve this problem for me?”

Asking for something to be done, rather than ordering it done. Suggesting something might be true, rather than saying definitely that it was.

“I do not wish to believe that he would go so far, but. . .I have no confidence in him,” Antonia admitted. It was as good as condemning him.

“I leave it in your hands, my dear,” Jerome settled for saying. “I must attend to other matters.”

“Then I will leave you to them, my husband,” Antonia smiled. She nodded gracefully and left, heading for her own study. Marisa was waiting for her there.

“Have you found anything?” she asked without preamble, taking her seat.

“I am sorry, Dona,” Marisa said formally as she slid a chip across the desk to her benefactor. “My cousin, Angelina, she is very skilled at intercepts and decryption. She learned from the LDF. Intelligence Bureau.” The LDF was the Lucia Defense Force. Lucia was one of the few sphere-ward planets that bothered to maintain more than a Corporal's Guard of a military.

“I see,” Antonia took the chip with a stone face. “I assume that this is. . .damning?” she asked.

“I'm afraid so,” Marisa said apologetically. “I am very sorry,” she said again, bowing slightly. “I will wait outside,” she offered.

“No,” Antonia shook her head. “No, you will stay. Elena was your friend, Marisa, and you are my closest confidant outside my husband. Whatever is on here you have earned the right to hear it.”

“As you wish, Dona,” Marisa nodded and sat down across from her patron.

Antonia inserted the chip into her desktop and listened to her son condemn himself.

-

“Your investigation is over,” Jerome said flatly as the police lieutenant was summoned to the older man's study. “My daughter will be home soon, freed from her captors by means other than yours. The perpetrators are unknown to us still, but my daughter did say that she heard one of the kidnappers, a woman, say that this was a vendetta against my own father, for some slight from long ago. You are looking for a woman, apparently.”

“I'll need to speak with your daughter,” the officer shook his head. “I'll carry her into the station and-”

“You will do no such thing,” Jerome cut him off. “You will not speak to my daughter at all. When she is sufficiently recovered she will give a formal deposition of everything she can remember of this ordeal, but for now she will be under a doctor's care, here in my home. And you will be nowhere near her. Please collect the rest of your people on your way out,” he ordered, dismissing the man.

“I think you've got the wrong idea here, Mister Delgado,” the police detective said officiously. “I'm the one who decides-” he trailed off as Jerome Delgado punched a single button on his desktop com and the face of the city's police commissioner appeared.

“He has refused,” Jerome said simply.

“Put him on,” the man ordered. Jerome turned the unit where a suddenly pale detective was looking at his boss', boss', boss.

“Sir, I was just explaining-” he began.

“Let me explain,” the Commissioner cut him off. “This investigation will move outside of the Delgado estate and stay there. Any information developed from the Delgado daughter will be passed along to you without delay. She will be interviewed by a court recorder as soon as her family physician clears her, and you will have immediate access to that as well. In the meantime, gather your people and get clear of the Delgado estate. And stay clear of their family. Are we clear?”

“Clear, sir,” the lieutenant nodded, biting back his fury.

“Outstanding,” the Commissioner nodded. “Mister Delgado, I again apologize that something like this could have happened in our city,” the man went on as Jerome turned the screen back to himself.

“I do not see how you are to blame,” Jerome shrugged. “Your people were not present, and have worked tirelessly to find out what happened and return my daughter. For that I thank you,” he bowed his head slightly.

“It's our duty, sir,” the Commissioner replied. “If you need anything, don't hesitate to call.” With that the screen went blank. Jerome looked up at the red-faced detective.

“Are you still here?”

Spinning on his heel, the police officer stormed from the office, two of Delgado's security men on his heels.

I will have to watch that one, the older man told himself as he watched the police lieutenant leave. He will want payback for what he sees as a slight.

He never liked to involve higher ups like that, but in this case he wanted the man and his minions gone before his children and young Galen returned.

He suspected there would be blood to clean up, and that always made policemen want to ask troublesome questions.

CHAPTER SEVEN

-

“Well, that was some evening, wasn't it,” Meredith commented as the quartet trooped back aboard.

“Sure was, Cap'n,” Faulks nodded, sauntering up the cargo bay, hands in her pockets. “Almost a real shebang there for a minute.”

“We can do without those,” Meredith reminded her.

“That's true,” Faulks nodded. Her attitude had changed a great deal since the general house cleaning some weeks before. Faulks was finally becoming the stalwart hand that Meredith had always needed her to be. A comforting presence in time of trouble.

“Well, at least the food was good,” Lincoln hefted his tray.

“That guy made me drop mine on the side walk,” Jessica made a moue of her face. “And I was still hungry, too!” she added petulantly. Meredith looked at her 'sister', unable to reconcile her attitude now with the scared young woman on the sidewalk not an hour ago.

“You seem to have recovered well,” she noted dryly. Jess looked at her a bit shame faced.

“Well,” she drew the word out. “I admit I sort of played the distressed damsel a little back there. I thought if I was upset and stressed the officer would be less likely to press me so hard about who I was and where I was from. My 'papers' are supposed to be top grade, but I thought it better not to put too much pressure on them the very first day.”

“Good idea,” Lincoln nodded. “And I must say, you play the damsel very well,” he grinned.

“Thank you kind sir,” Jessica smiled and bowed her head slightly. “I must say that you are quite handy with a stylus and a pocket knife,” she added.

“Just part of a medical course I took years ago,” Lincoln shrugged. “To be honest, I'm a little surprised I remembered how to do it.”

“Why did you try it, then?” Meredith demanded. “You could have killed that guy!”

“He was dying anyway,” Lincoln reminded her. “There wasn't anything to lose, really. If I failed then he was no less dead than if I did nothing. Since it worked, he's alive.”

“And probably headed for jail,” Faulks commented. “That really was stupid, though,” she added thoughtfully. “I mean, you just don't go up and grab someone from behind like that. Not on a crowded street. Even someone you think you know.”

“What was it he called you again?” Lincoln asked.

“Vanessa?” Jessica said after a moment of thought. “I. . .it was something like that. Maybe with a jay or a gee though? Janessa? Maybe?”

“Well, regardless, I'd say he's learned his lesson about grabbing young women on the street,” Meredith said wryly.

“I wish I hadn't done that,” Jessica sighed. “I don't know why I did unless it was just because I was startled. Still, it caused a lot of trouble.”

“He caused it, not you,” Meredith pointed out.

Lincoln remained silent, thinking about Jessica's actions, and statements. The mystery surrounding their 'wayward waif', as Tony had taken to calling her, was growing more intriguing all the time. Knowing how to fly a ship, knowing hand-to-hand combat, celestial navigation, which was much different from just piloting. Having a forty-year-old cartoon as an idol when you're maybe twenty-five and said cartoon was banned before you were even born. Things like that made Lincoln want to know what the deal was with their mystery girl.

Meredith had certainly taken a liking to her, that was for sure. For someone as straight-laced as his wife to agree to hide a woman who couldn't possibly be who she said she was, and then get her a forged identity that made the girl her 'sister'. . .well, that was more right there than Lincoln had ever imagined his wife being willing to do outside the law and order she kept her feet firmly planted on.

Of course, her idea of law and order was firmly grounded in the Commonwealth and lately she had seen that not everyone in the Commonwealth shared her views. Or her morals. Learning what had happened to Sean Galen had come as much a shock to Meredith as it had to Faulks. She had never fathomed that anyone wearing the Commonwealth uniform would commit a war crime. From his own experience, Lincoln knew that was far from true.

As a counselor, everything someone said to him was confidential, As such, many people felt comfortable sharing things with him that were not only criminally and morally wrong, but in some cases downright scary. He figured that was why he had no trouble at all accepting Sean Galen's story as true.

He had heard more than one Commonwealth soldier, sailor and marine admit to much the same thing. He knew it happened. Hadn't seen it, but knew it did nonetheless.

His wife was learning that now. Even as she adjusted to the galaxy not being just exactly what she thought of it, Lincoln was wrestling with their newest dilemma;

A girl who shouldn't exist.

And just might be even more dangerous than their engineer had turned out to be.

-

“Cops are gone,” Sean noted as Tony maneuvered around the estate to the rear gate.

“So they are,” Tony said tonelessly.

“Dude, for real?” Sean sighed.

“I'm still waiting for an answer to my question,” Tony said casually.

“Don't answer him,” Lucia popped up from the back suddenly, almost in Galen's ear. “None of that is any of his business. Keep it between us.”

“What?” Sean turned to look at the girl, who had an impish grin on her face as she winked at him. Apparently she was recovering pretty well.

Behind the controls, Tony gritted his teeth and gripped the steering with a good deal more force than was necessary.

“Don't let her rile you up, man,” Sean told his friend. “And I did answer you; nothing.”

“Uh huh,” Tony grunted.

“For God's sake, Antonio,” Lucia rolled her eyes in the mirror where he could see it. “He saved me when I thought I was all but dead. I was waiting for them to come and rape me, and then cut me into pieces to send home. Then he killed a man to protect me. Of course, I hugged him! I hugged you too!”

“I'm your brother!” Tony shot back, not mollified. “And I killed a guy too, ya know!” he added.

“Well, yeah, but. . .I mean it's not like you haven't done it before,” Lucia pointed out. “I mean before you went soft and all,” she jabbed. “For all I know Mister Galen never had any trouble before today.”

Neither man replied to that, Sean looking out the window, Tony snorting derisively while navigating the car into the grounds of the estate.

“What's funny about that?” Lucia demanded.

“Nothing,” Tony told her flatly. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm starving,” she replied.

“I'm sure you'll be able to get something as soon as we're inside,” Tony promised. “Once mom and dad allow you out of their sight anyway,” he added.

“I probably won't complain about that for a while,” she admitted, suddenly very somber. “If I had listened, Elena might not be dead now,” her voice was suddenly very small as the day's events came rushing in on her. In the euphoria of being rescued, seeing her brother again, and meeting a very handsome hero, she had allowed herself to forget about that for a little while. Now it was right back into the front of her mind.

“This wasn't your fault, Lucy,” Tony told her as they entered the underground garage. There was a small welcoming committee there composed of their parents, the family physician, and an even dozen security personnel.

“Yes it was,” the girl said dully. “Elena tried to tell me to slow down. To wait and let Franz and Bella do their jobs. Now, they're all three dead. If I had listened, they wouldn't be.”

“Yeah, they would,” Tony told her. “This was a well-planned hit, Lucy. None of it was your fault, and nothing you did or didn't do would have changed things. Period. Now enough of that. You're home, you're safe. Franz and Bella were doing their job and knew how dangerous it was when they took it. And Elena? Do you think she would be worried about anything other than whether you were okay or not? I know you loved her, but she loved you too. Don't forget that. Ever.”

“I won't,” she said softly. “But I don't want to put anyone else in danger again, either,” she added before she opened the door to get out. “I may never leave this house again.”

Tony took a deep breath at that. He had hoped that she wouldn't get hit with survivor's guilt so quick and so hard. Combined with the shock of her situation, it could be enough to send her into a fit of depression.

“She'll be okay,” Sean told him quietly. “She's strong, that one.”

“I hope so,” Tony replied as he opened his own door. “I really do.”

-

Antonia and Jerome barely restrained themselves as the car pulled into the garage. It became more difficult when they could see their youngest child in the rear seat, talking to her brother. And it grew still more difficult when she didn't immediately open the door and leap out.

Finally, Lucia climbed out of the car, falling into their arms and finally allowing herself to break down almost completely. She had been strong until now, but her strength was at its limit for this day, and the presence of her parents was enough to break her emotions. The two parents engulfed their returned child and held her close as she sobbed.

“I'm so sorry!” she wailed into her father's broad chest.

“This was none of your fault, my child,” Antonia told her softly, stroking her daughter's hair. “This was not your fault.”

The two pulled her with them, the doctor following them into the house. The security team split between following them and looking at Sean Galen, covered in blood.

“C'mon, man,” Tony told him. “Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. You can shower while I find you something to wear.”

“He's not going into the house armed,” one of the security men said in what he fondly imagined to be an intimidating voice.

“Excuse me, dickhead?” Tony growled. “Did you say something? It almost sounded like you said something.”

“I can't allow him into the house armed, sir,” the man modified his tone but held firm on that.

“He's already been in the house armed once today, moron,” Tony informed him. “And I assure you, the six of you aren't enough to stop if him if he really wanted inside. Now you get the hell out of our way before I shoot your stupid ass myself. Don't argue with me!” his voice raised as the man started to speak again.

“C'mon, Sean,” Tony extended his arm. “Just ignore him. He thinks he's somebody, apparently.”

Face flushed, the security goon watched helplessly as the blood covered man with the knives and gun was escorted into the house by the boss' son.

“You're dumb as a rock, you know that?” one of the other men said once they were alone. The red-faced guard looked at his companion.

“That's Antonio Delgado, you idiot,” the man hissed. “You don't tell him anything. You ask. Politely. And considering that the two of them just showed up with the boss' daughter and he's covered in blood not his own, whose blood do you reckon that is?”

Comprehension dawned on the man's face as the words of his comrade sank in.

“Well, at least you can learn,” the other man sighed as he waved for the others to return to their posts.

-

Sean Galen used a guest room to shower, finding clothes on the bed when he emerged from the bath. Clothes that by some magic happened to be a perfect fit. He had just finished dressing when there was a knock at the door. He opened to find the woman who had gotten them into the house earlier that morning.

“Yes?”

“The Mistress would like to see you, Mister Galen,” Marisa told him softly. “She is in her study. I can take you there now, if you like.”

“I thought she'd be with her daughter,” Sean temporized. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Antonia Delgado at the moment.

“The bambina is with the doctor,” the woman shook her head. “She will be some time. Dona Delgado wishes to speak to you in private.”

“All right,” Sean was reluctant but couldn't figure a way out of it. Stepping out of the room he followed Marisa through the hallway and then down a massive set of stairs to the ground floor. Weaving through two more hallways they came back to the front receiving hall where Marisa had met them that morning.

Sean remembered the room, having been inside it that morning with Tony as they spoke to his current escort. Marisa stopped at the door, knocked twice, and opened it when a soft reply came from inside. She waved Sean inside and then closed the door from the hallway, leaving him alone with the 'Dona'.

“Ma'am,” Sean nodded.

“Please sit,” Antonia indicated a chair. “Firstly I must thank you for freeing and protecting my daughter, Mister-” she paused suddenly, looking at him.

“May I know your name, Hound of War?” she asked in their native tongue. Sean looked at her flatly for a moment. She was asking for his truename. His clan and tribal names.

“Bringer of Storms,” he replied carefully. “My father called me Stormcrow.”

It was no surprise when her eyes widened slightly at the revelation, and he sighed slightly in resignation. He had almost lied about his name but decided against it. Now he was second guessing that decision.

“I see,” Antonia nodded. “I was once known as Eyes Afar,” she reciprocated. “As I was saying,” she continued, “I must thank you for returning my daughter to me. And as I promised, whatever you ask of me will be done.”

“I require nothing,” Sean told her simply.

“I expected such,” she admitted. “Still, know the favor is there. And I must now ask you for yet another,” she told him. “I find myself with my honor stained, Bringer of Storms. I face a delicate matter that calls for a great deal of discretion. Something that I cannot turn from, yet cannot do myself. Do you understand?”

“You wish me to kill your son,” he said evenly. Her eyes grew wide once again.

“I see you are not surprised at this revelation,” she managed to remain calm despite her surprise.

“I suspected him this morning,” Sean admitted. “But it was not my place to say.”

“Indeed,” she nodded slowly. “It is a heavy heart that makes this decision, Bringer of Storms. Yet I cannot allow this to go unpunished. I wish you to listen.” She reached out without another word and pressed a button.

“She'll have two guards and a maid with her,” it was a man's voice, disguised but still recognizable if you knew it.

“What are we supposed to do with her?” a woman's voice growled back. “And why not do your own dirty work?”

“Circumstances require me to be elsewhere,” the man told her. “Thus I turn to you. She is not to be harmed, merely taken.”

“And the others?” the woman asked.

“Kill them to show our resolve,” came the flat reply.

“Our resolve, is it?” the woman sounded scornful. “We're the people taking the risks.”

“And you will be rewarded for them,” the man assured her, not rising to the bait. “Simply take her, deliver the message, and then reap the benefits. A simple matter that will help you and me.”

“Why is it so important to you that this. . .Roberto, be in charge of the Delgado Family?” the woman demanded.

“That does not concern you, but suffice it to say he is easier to work with than his father,” came the reply. Antonia shut off the rest of the recording and looked at Sean Galen across her desk.

“You see my problem,” she stated rather than asked. “I told my husband I would be the one to deal with this. It isn't that his family, his people, would not deal similarly with such a thing, but. . .I cannot allow this to pass. You understand me, Stormcrow?”

“I do,” Sean nodded. Her honor was stained now by the actions of her traitorous son. “Bi'ats'e daag'oo'aahase,” he said simply. His behavior condemns him to death.

“Then I regretfully must ask you; will you do me this favor? Will you restore my honor, so that my ancestors smile upon me once more?”

“I will,” he said at once. “Do you know where he is?”

“Yes,” she nodded, handing him an address written on a slip of paper. “I can have someone take you there,” she offered.

“Best you don't,” he told her easily. “Let them drop me a mile or so away and I'll take it from there. Do you know how long he will be here?” he raised the paper.

“He thinks he is safe,” Antonia said simply. “That is very important to him, feeling safe. I suspect he will feel safer in daylight, thus he will remain where he is until then. He is alone, and thus his fear will increase. He is cut off, and thus he will be ever more cautious. I do warn you, however,” she looked at him levelly. “He is treacherous and smart; a dangerous combination. Do not assume anything where he is concerned for I have truly given birth to a servant of the Ma'ii.” The Coyote. The Trickster.

“I will be careful,” he nodded. “Do you want him to disappear, or be found?” he asked her quietly.

“Better he be found, I think,” she admitted. “If his death can be blamed on those who took my daughter, so much the better.”

“Do you want him to know?” he asked carefully, looking at her closely.

“Yes,” she admitted after a brief hesitation. “I find it needful,” she added.

“Very well,” Sean nodded again. “I'll be going. Have whoever is driving me ready in ten minutes. And please, not that guy with the shaved head that was down there earlier.”

“He is no longer here,” she smiled at him. “Antonio dealt with that as soon as he saw to your comfort. We do not suffer fools for long, Mister Galen. Unless of course they are ours,” she added wryly.

“Then I will go,” Sean told her and left the room as quietly as he had entered. Antonia suppressed a shiver as he went. She had never considered who he might be. . . .

“Roberto, my son,” she whispered aloud. “I send you on your way by the Ari PerroDemos. May he pursue your soul to hell if need be for the shame you have brought me.”

-

“You and your friend have done well, Antonio.”

Tony was sitting with his father in the latter's study, each nursing a glass of brandy.

“Sean did most of it,” Tony shrugged.

“It was a most fortuitous set of circumstances that led you home at just such a time,” his father lifted his glass in salute.

“You have no idea,” Tony laughed harshly. He spent the next half hour explaining to his father how he had come to be on Lucia that day, including receiving the messages from his parents on Liberty Vale.

“We never know what will come of things that happen,” Jerome admitted.

“I guess,” Tony sighed. “I sort of manipulated the Captain into coming here. I set Lincoln up to see an eye surgeon here in the city, and got Tuttle to get us a good cargo in and out to pay for the trip. Plus I used some old friends to get papers for the girl,” he added.

“You have been busy,” his father mused. “I don't suppose you're staying, since you're here.” There was no challenge, no condemnation nor hint of pleading either. It was just a question.

“I don't think that's a good idea, pop,” Tony replied. “Just in one day I've lost a lot of the 'good old Tony' that I had pretty much turned myself into over the last three years. I admit there were extenuating
circumstances, but still. . .it's probably better for me to stay away from this life.”

“I understand,” Jerome nodded. “Perhaps Lucia will be strengthened by all of this,” he seemed to change the subject. “She might one day sit in this seat, you know,” he added with a smile.

“Over Roberto?” Tony frowned. “Well I can't imagine him taking that all too well,” he snorted. “What happened to him, anyway? I mean, 'let the cops handle it'? Really?”

“Yes,” Jerome nodded, allowing his disappointment to show. “I admit I have allowed the police to pursue those who encroach on our legitimate interests, but. . .there is no way I will allow an attack against my family to go without reprisal.” His voice was like iron.

“Ah, speaking of which,” Tony sat up a little. “I sort of left a mess at the quarry. I was kinda in a hurry, and-”

“It has been seen to,” his father assured him. “There are also people looking for the remainder of the Falcones as well. Once they are located, we have the option of giving them to the authorities as a show of good will, or dealing with them ourselves as a show of strength. I have not yet decided which is best.”

“I can guess which way Roberto will wave,” Tony snorted, downing a good portion of his brandy.

“Roberto will have no say in this or any other matter concerning this family from now forward,” his father informed him calmly. Tony hesitated at that.

“Ah, that sounds a lot like you're getting rid of him, pop,” he finally chose to say.

“Indeed,” his father nodded.

“Seriously?” Tony's eyes widened just as there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for a reply the door opened and Antonia stepped inside. She kissed her son's forehead and then moved to do the same to her husband, remaining by his side.

“I was explaining to our son about Roberto,” Jerome told her.

“I see,” she nodded gravely. “Perhaps it would be better if he heard this,” she handed him the chip. Jerome looked at it, then to his wife.

“Do I want to hear this?” he asked carefully.

“No, but you will need to nonetheless,” she replied. “It will be good for Antonio to hear it as well. In fact I deem it a necessity that he listen,” she added.

For the third time that day, members of the Delgado family would hear one of their own betray them in a most heinous way.

-

“I wonder where they are?” Meredith said as she and Lincoln prepared for bed.

“Mere, they're both grown men and they had something going,” Lincoln reasoned. “And we're stuck here for at least a week. Whatever you're wanting to get done, I'm sure they'll get to it. They've never let us down yet,” he reminded her.

Meredith had to agree that was true but. . .one of her greatest failings was that she wanted to always know what was going on. It sprang she was sure from her days commanding a warship in the Commonwealth Navy, where it was vital that she know her ship and crew from tip to tail. Though gone now from the Navy for over five years, a lifetime of training and experience was hard to surrender regardless of time passed.

I'm not nosy, she thought to herself. I'm not. It's just important that I know where my crew is and what they're into. That's all.

Having mollified herself with that, she crawled into bed and snuggled up to her husband, who carefully laid his new glasses alongside on the small stand.

“Glasses,” he shook his head slowly.

“Yes, Lincoln,” she sighed yet again. “Glasses.

-

“I. . .” Tony tried to speak, but couldn't find anything. His friends aboard the Celia would not have known what to say about his being speechless. Tony was never at a loss for words.

The glass in Jerome Delgado's hand suddenly shattered under his grip, his anger seething to the point that it was like a pressure wave in the room. Seeing blood on his hands, Antonia moved wordlessly to retrieve a small first aid kit and called for Marisa to bring her water and a towel. The other woman was there in three minutes, careful to set the dish on the desk and then depart.

Antonia worked to clean up the small mess after cleaning and bandaging her husband's hand. She would have the floor cleaned once they were out of the room.

“I should go and talk to him about this,” Tony said finally, managing to get the words out over his own crushing anger.

“That will not be necessary,” his mother informed him. “I have taken responsibility for this and have taken the necessary steps to see that it is corrected.”

Always the convoluted way. Saying it without saying. Her voice was completely absent of any feeling like anger, or remorse.

“What have you done?” Tony asked.

“Antonio, your brother must be dealt with,” she told him flatly. “He has brought shame upon us. Upon me,” she stressed. “There must be a reckoning. The blood of my people calls for it and it must be. Roberto will answer for all that he has done.”

“Answer how?” he asked warily. He was seeing a side of his mother than he hadn't seen before to his memory. It was a bit intimidating to be honest. Almost like she was channeling Sean, in fact.

“With his life,” was the simply reply. “Blood of this tr-family has been shed at his order and instigation. Atop that he has worked to undermine your father, and his actions have brought further shame upon us by associating the Delgado name with activities that we had long since divested ourselves of thanks to your father's influence. It was a long and bitter battle to rid ourselves of those practices, requiring many sacrifices and not a little blood. Roberto has spit upon those sacrifices by immersing our name into those practices once more. I will not allow that, nor will I allow it to go unpunished.”

“Nor can his challenge to your father's rule to go without answer.”

Tony didn't know what to say. He'd never heard his mother speak like this. And she had just announced that she had condemned her oldest son, her first born child, to death for his actions against the family. He almost recoiled as his mother's blue eyes turned on him, shining with a simmering rage that he had missed earlier, as if it had been camouflaged by her calm demeanor.

“Ah,” Tony tried to come up with something but failed.

“It is not for you to concern yourself with, my son,” her voice softened considerably as she addressed him. “Your brother is treacherous. He sought to take by slight of hand that which he could not earn by merit. He would have sacrificed your sister, just as he did Elena and the others, for his own foolish and selfish agenda. This family could no more allow his ruinous rule than I intend to allow him to get away with what he has done.”

Again, there was that flat and final declaration. He realized that his father had been silent through all this, staring out the window into the yard. A fountain, lighted from beneath the water in the darkness of night, was visible from where he sat and he watched the blue shaded water falling peacefully without speaking. That too was new. It had always been his father who ran things. At least so far as Tony knew.

“Your mother said she would deal with this,” Jerome said, as if he could hear Tony's thoughts and feel his stare. “Her heritage is such that she cannot tolerate betrayal in any fashion, not even from her own,” he added, his voice laced with both pride and satisfaction. He turned finally to look at Tony.

“I hope, my son, when the time comes for you to take a wife that you will be as fortunate in your choice as I was in mine,” he said softly as Antonia took his large hand in her own. “She is truly a magnificent woman that I have been privileged to spend my life with.”

“Your father is emotional,” Antonia said with a slight grin. “He will recover in a few moments and return to normal.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tony nodded. “I'm sure.”

“That was mean of you, my wife,” Jerome's eyes crinkled at the corners, the only sign of his amusement. She patted his hand fondly.

“So, uh, what is. . .I mean, I can still take care of it for you,” Tony offered.

“As I said, I have already seen to it,” Antonia shook her head. “It so happened that a distant kinsman of mine was visiting at the moment and has agreed to undertake this task for me to restore my honor. He will see to it that things are set right, my son. Do not concern yourself with this matter further.”

“Really?” Tony's interest heightened at that. He'd never met anyone from his mother's family before. He had allowed himself to believe she had none. “Can I meet him?”

“Perhaps,” she smiled beautifully. “We shall see. In the meanwhile. . .” she paused as the door flew open and Lucia, now showered, changed and wearing fresh bandages on her wrists and ankles, stood in the doorway.

“I. . .I don't want to be by myself,” she told them.

“The house is full of people, mi bambina,” Antonia promised her, moving to take her daughter in her arms. “You are safe, I promise you.”

“I. . .I don't want to be with them,” she shook her head even as her mother cradled her. “I want to be with you. With my family.” She raised her head and looked at Tony, flushing a bit.

“I wouldn't mind it if Galen were here, of course,” she tried to make it sound as if she were doing Tony a favor, but no one was fooled.

“I'm afraid Mister Galen has already departed for the evening my dear,” her mother told her. “I'm sure you will see him tomorrow.”

“Sean left?” Tony frowned, standing. “I. . .I told him to stay! To use the guest room!”

“He had something he had to attend to, Antonio,” his mother looked at him. “He will return when it is finished.”

“But I-” Tony started, then abruptly stopped. His eyes narrowed as he realized what his mother was saying.

“Are you telling me that Sean is-”

“It is a rather long story that I have no intention of telling tonight,” his mother's voice was firm, indicating that there would therefore be no discussion tonight. “I will share it with you tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, but tonight we will simply support your sister.” Her look added emphasis to her 'order'. She meant to be obeyed in this.

Sean had to be the kinsman she was talking about. Tony couldn't see any way for this massive coincidence. Somehow, someway or another, Sean Galen was related to his mother.

And was even now on his way to kill her oldest son.

CHAPTER EIGHT

-

Roberto Delgado reclined on the bed of the hotel room he had rented and considered his options, such as they were. They were limited, but he did have them.

Roberto was, as his mother had noted, intelligent to a degree. While not nearly as sharp as he had imagined, he was smart enough to plan for failure. He had resources enough and to spare to escape San Lucia and set himself up somewhere else, far from his vengeful family and under an assumed name. Money, documents, identification, everything he needed to live a quiet and comfortable life somewhere along the near rim perhaps, or even at the edge of the Mid-terior as it was called. Somewhere that he could still access the better things if not the finer ones, yet be distant from the arm of the Delgado family. He knew firsthand how far his father's reach extended.

It would take getting used to he acknowledged, not being a Delgado. Roberto had rode the coattails of his father and ancestors all his life, depending on the threat of his family to allow him to get away even with murder at times. But now he was stripped of that protection, which meant that enemies he had made over the years would now be looking to make things even, no longer held in check by fear of reprisal from the Old Man.

His mother's reaction to the death of Lucia's governess, what was her name? Elena? Something like that. Anyway; Antonia's reaction to her death had caught Roberto by surprise. She had seemed to treat the death of the governess and the guards as if they were members of the family. How did someone as smart as his mother not see them for what they were? They were tools, nothing more. Tools to be used by the Delgado family for their own desires and ends.

Of course, that Falcone witch had upset his apple cart as well by threatening to cut Lucia into pieces and ship her home one of those pieces at a time. Had she not done that then his mother and father might have listened to him and his plans would not have fallen apart.

He had enlisted the woman because she had an old hate for his father and grandfather. Thinking this would motivate the woman to do as he asked so as to hurt Jerome Delgado, it had never entered his mind that she might turn the tables on him and use his sister as a means to revenge rather than as a lever of control against his father. In that his intelligence, had failed him, but even that he blamed on her rather than himself.

If people would only listen! He knew what it took to get things done! Why could no one see that?

His mother had been angry at some of the business decisions he had made, but could she not see that leaving those ventures had cut into their finances? Yes, the Delgado family had no real need of the money. In truth in would be several generations before anyone had to actually earn any money even if they stopped earning anything right now, but that wasn't the point! The money was there, so why not take it!

Perhaps some of the things were distasteful, but it wasn't as if he was doing these things himself. He had underlings for that.

Had being the operative word at the moment. He sighed as his thinking came full circle, leaving him where he had started. Cut off from those underlings and his other resources. All he had now was what he had put away in case of an emergency just like this. Roberto had no friends or even comrades to call upon in his time of need because he'd never cultivated any. He had used the people in his father's organization assuming they would always be there, never once befriending any of them nor even granting favors that might make them willing to help him now in his own time of need. He had never seen the need.

Now, when it was far too late, he could see that need. The need to gather his own people, to create his own network, his own organization. If he'd done that then perhaps he could use this opportunity to take on his father, and if need be his mother, and best them in the open for all to see. Many people would support his rise to power he was sure, as he was the eldest. Typically, it was the oldest who assumed the role of head of the family.

But his mother had made it clear that role was lost to him now. She had somehow uncovered his 'dealings', and had used them to ensure that her favored one, Antonio, would likely sit in their father's chair one day. She had always loved Antonio more, hadn't she?

Was it because he was named for her? Or perhaps because they shared a birthday? How rare was it for a baby to be born on his mother's birthday, he wondered suddenly. Luka would know, he decided. Little Luka, the absent-minded professor. A genius with numbers and an idiot with everything else. Another disappointment to the family, Luka. Weak, meek, and a little dizzy at times when working, he doubted Luka would even realize anything had happened. He would notice Roberto missing at Christmas or Easter in the next three or four years and ask where he was. Maybe. If it wasn't numeric, Luka didn't always note it.

Which meant Luka would never rule. He couldn't, in fact. He simply wasn't able. And Lucia? She couldn't manage to dress herself without that woman, Elanor or something, to help her. Always chasing after the latest 'fashions' or 'shoes' or whatever else caught her eye. Never once working a day of her life for anything that would further the family's interest.

Which left Antonio. Roberto knew in his heart that his mother had always intended for Antonio to inherit control of the family and now she had managed to make it happen. What made a mother love one child over another? he wondered to himself. What was it that had made Antonia look at her second son and love him more than the first? She had never bothered to try and hide it, either. Look at how she had greeted him when he came waltzing into the house that very morning.

Was that just this morning? Seems like a year or more.

She had embraced him at once, called him her baby boy. She didn't do that for him. None of that for Roberto. No, for Roberto there is only condemnation. For Roberto, there is a meeting in the office where she takes great delight in pointing out any failures, castigating any actions and finally stripping him of his rightful place as the Delgado heir. Cutting him off from the family and their resources completely.

Roberto was suddenly gripped by an all-consuming rage. He grabbed the lamp sitting by his bed and yanked it from the table, hurling it across the room into the mirror.

Great, he thought to himself as he flopped onto the bed. Seven years’ bad luck. That's all I need right now.

-

“Here ought be fine,” Sean said to the driver, a dark haired woman with equally dark eyes. She was attractive beneath her business look though she tried to hide it he noticed. A severe ponytail pulled high behind her head, a muscular build that her height disguised by making her look thin, she appeared relaxed but was anything but. Former military, probably. She was carrying at least three handguns, Sean had noted.

“You sure?” she asked, looking at the street. “Middle of no and where right here.” She was not aware of his mission, just that he needed a ride. “This isn't exactly the best part of town either,” she added.

“I'll be fine,” he told her. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Any time.” The door closed and the car departed. Sean made sure it was out of sight returning the way it had come before he started walking.

His target was just over a mile distant.

Target. How long since he'd thought of someone as a target? How long since he'd lived this kind of life at all? Six years? Five? Or was it seven? He honestly wasn't sure. He'd never bothered to keep up with the time. He went, he did, he returned. That was all that mattered.

On the ship, he did his job, he interacted with the crew, he slept, he started over. It was a nice, safe, normal routine. One that kept him from sliding over the edge and back into something he wasn't sure he could stop again once it started.

He had almost reached that point with Faulks and the Captain. Between Faulks' mouthing and the Captain's prying and demands, he had almost snapped and killed the lot of them. There were still moments when he wished he had killed Faulks, and perhaps the Captain too. Of course if he had, then he'd have had to kill Lincoln and in spite of everything Sean liked Lincoln.

Then there was the girl. Who or what was she? That was the question that he, Lincoln and Tony had been asking for months now. She was odd, that was for sure. No, she was an oddity. Jess herself wasn't odd. She looked and acted normal. Well, most of the time she acted normal. Her 'programming', if that was the right word, kicked in at odd times perhaps, but always when she was under pressure that she couldn't seem to escape from or in response to a direct attack.

Or in defense of someone close to her, he added to himself, recalling that it was the threat of the arrest of himself and Tony on Hartley Station that had set her in motion the first time, revealing that she somehow knew how to pilot and navigate a star ship.

Enough, he told himself, realizing he had been wool gathering for some time. The hotel that Roberto was staying in was facing him diagonally across the intersection he had stopped at. He stepped into a store alcove, the store closed for the evening. A glance around confirmed that no cameras were watching him in this part of town. He used a small set of viewers to scan the hotel.

The room number given him for Roberto wasn't visible which mean it was likely on the back side, a stroke of genuine luck. Another piece of good fortune was that the doors were all outside rather than inside. Sean didn't have to actually enter the hotel to locate and kill his target.

His target. He sighed at how easy it was to slip back into that mindset. Shrugging his shoulders forward, he lowered is head and stepped out into the street, crossing the road lazily, almost as if he were drunk. He semi-staggered into the parking lot and around to the rear of the inn, looking for cameras. There were none, at least here on the hotel itself. He kept his face hidden as he walked down the row of doors, coming finally to the one he was seeking.

He made sure no one was nearby and raised his hands to knock. He was going to say he was a delivery and hope that Roberto would open the door. Before his hand could fall he heard a loud crash from inside and held his hand.

Had someone gotten there before him? He waited, expecting more but hearing nothing. On a hunch, he raised his hand and rapped on the door with authority.

“Management!” he called through the door.

“What?” Roberto's voice came back, and Sean smiled.

-

“Management!” the word followed the harsh knock as Roberto jumped.

“What?” Management? What the hell did they. . .he glanced at the broken lamp and mirror and sighed.

“Management!” the voice repeated, harsher this time. “Open up!”

“All right,” Roberto called, getting to his feet. This was why he found himself in difficulties, he decided. Always acting without thinking. He flung the door open, prepared to bribe his way out of trouble.

-

Sean stuck his arm through the door as soon as it opened and shoved. Roberto went stumbling backwards to hit the corner of the bed, resulting in his falling to the floor. He struggled to get upright but by the time he did Sean Galen was fully in the room, knife in hand.

From a world filled with guns, poison and explosives, Roberto looked at that terribly wicked knife and felt his bladder release. He had faced threats of other kinds before and done all right, but nothing like thi-

Sean's knife hilt struck him on the bridge of the nose, stunning him though leaving him conscious. Sean let him hit the floor while he secured the door. Once done, he hefted Roberto up onto the bed, and then into the chair next to it, where four cable ties later Roberto was secured. As the target began to regain his senses, Sean took a washrag from the bathroom and stuffed into his mouth, silencing him just as he was about to scream.

“Surprised to see me, no?” Sean smiled, and it was not a pretty smile. “You and me, we have a lot to talk about, efvea.” Roberto tried to scream but all that came out was a muffled 'mphh'.

“I found your sister,” Sean told him, anger lacing his voice. “Betrayed by you into the hands of those who would have raped and tortured her. Kept in the dark, isolated and alone, in pain, bleeding, waiting for her death, all because of you, son of Coyote.”

Roberto's face paled at that expression. Unlike Antonio, Roberto knew where his mother came from.

“I should make you experience the same things your sister faced, diishaa,” Sean told him flatly. “Yet to do so would take time I do not have. Nor do you,” he said simply, pulling a handgun from behind him, suppressor already attached.

“I took this from the dead body of one of the people who were about to harm your sister,” he explained. “I'm going to kill you with it, dog. I'm going to leave it here for the police to find, linking it to the murders in the mall if I am not bad wrong, and I'm not.” He took a pillow from the bed and wrapped it around the gun.

“I'm sure the police will wonder why you're here, instead of at home where you belong,” Sean informed him. “I don't know what your mother will tell them, but I'm sure she has it all figured out by now. Oh, in case you were wondering? It was her who asked me to kill you, kikraha. To restore her honor to her.”

That might have been what broke him, though Sean didn't know or care. Roberto began sobbing behind his gag, struggling to get out of his bonds.

“Yes, your actions have shamed your mother and her ancestors,” Sean told him flatly. “A woman of the Blood, like your mother, cannot allow that to go, Roberto. Had you been a better son, you would have known that. Of course, had you been a better son you would not have needed to ever learn it, would you?” he raised the gun and pillow.

“Say hello to the Falcone boys when you see them in hell,” he said simply and pulled the trigger three times. Roberto's body jerked with the impacts as rounds struck his lung, heart, and finally his brain.

“'pen'd'hoa,” Sean snarled as he tossed the pillow and the gun aside, removing the gloves he had worn to preserve any fingerprints the Falcone's might have left on the weapon. They didn't strike him as the smartest people so there might be something.

Sean removed a ring that looked like a family heirloom and slipped it into his pocket, then pinned a note to Roberto's body that closely resembled the one Tony had left on Freddy Parmano in the factory.

“Nice and tidy,” Sean murmured to himself as he took one last look around. Seeing a small bag on the bed he opened it and rifled through the contents, finding a small leather book. Opening it he saw page after page of numbers, some in money and others in some kind of code. He took that as well, continuing through the bag. Nothing else stuck out at him, nothing that would embarrass the family, so he pocketed his plunder and made his way to the door. Pressing the 'do not disturb' and 'maid service not needed' buttons on the control panel to the door, he activated the auto lock, stepped outside as if he were the renter and closed the door behind him.

His head bowed as if against an imaginary wind, Sean made his way back toward town, careful to avoid crowds where police or cameras might be. He found a store not far from where the woman had let him out, stepped inside and spent some time there, made a small purchase, then called a cab to make the trip back to the estate.

It was just after midnight when Sean arrived at the guest room he had been given, led there by Marisa herself who had been waiting for security to call and ask if he were allowed inside.

“You have everything you need?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he smiled at her. “I just wanted to get something that reminded me of home,” he held up the package, pulling a small bottle from inside. “Long day and all,” he added with a shrug.

“Yes, it was,” she nodded, a telling look on her face that he chose to ignore. “If you need anything, just ring.”

“Thank you.”

Once inside, Sean showered again and found his old clothes, now freshly laundered, along with another shirt he had been 'loaned', lying on the bed. Funny, the shirt felt new and was exactly the right size, but he supposed when you had money you could do things like that. He placed the clothing he had worn to Roberto's into a small bag which he sealed for the incinerator after pouring a good amount of the whiskey he had bought in town on it. Next he took a small amount of the whiskey and swished it around in his mouth, poured most of the rest down the drain with hot water chasing it, and then lay the bottle on the side table, still open, so that a small amount could leak out onto the night stand. He made sure to lay a towel beneath it to protect the furniture and a coaster beneath that to catch the leak through if there was any.

All that done, he stretched out onto the bed, gun beneath the pillow and knife under his leg. He was asleep in no more than a minute.

-

“He has returned,” Marisa said softly into the telecom.

“Thank you,” the voice at the other end said simply before breaking the call.

Marisa sighed quietly, leaning her head against the wall for a few seconds. She was more tired than she had been in a very long time. She needed rest as well. Perhaps now there would be peace in this house. At least for a time.

-

Anthony Delgado sat on the veranda of his private bedroom, glass in hand as he peered out over the rear yard of the estate. Wilhelm had stressed that the front was still not safe but that the back, with several acres of sensor covered area between the house and anything approaching civilization was completely secure. Fortunately, his bedroom was in the rear of the house on the third floor.

He snorted as he took a drink from the glass in his hand. The others on the Celia would probably wonder why in the hell he was bothering with working for them when he had all this waiting for him. And it literally was now.

With Roberto gone, Tony was the obvious choice to assume his father's role when the time came. Yet he didn't really want it. The wonderful thing about being 'Tony Giannini' instead of himself was that no one expected anything of Tony. No one cared what Tony did, where he went. But Antonio Delgado?

Antonio Delgado they watched. Everyone watched. He might want or need something. He might mention something that he'd like to see done. He might say that he liked, or disliked, someone around him.

Shaking his head, Tony ditched the empty glass in favor of the bottle, taking a drink directly from it. He hadn't gotten shit-faced, commode hanging drunk in a long time. If ever there was a day for it, this was it. His secret life in tatters, his sister kidnapped and her retinue dead, his brother responsible for it and now either dead or soon to be. Hell of a day.

His best friend probably killing his older brother even as Tony sat there, drinking. His sister clearly enamored with said best friend. Said best friend being a notorious and feared assassin was fine until Lucia started hugging him and shit, but now? No, now it wasn't okay at all. His baby sister didn't need that kind of hassle in her life! Hanging on the arm of the man who had killed one of their brothers!

Of course, their own mother had sent him to do it Tony reminded himself. And Sean had killed one of the Falcones, too, helping Tony find his sister. Had also helped him kidnap two people. Said best friend really was a good friend, he admitted. And it wasn't that he didn't trust Sean, because he absolutely did. Completely. With his life, in fact.

It was just that he saw Lucia as a delicate flower that needed protection. If today hadn't proven that then nothing would. She would be a long time stepping foot outside the mansion or off the grounds again, he was pretty sure. PTSD would hit her in a few weeks, just about the time she was getting back to normal, most likely. She would jump at slight sounds, want the lights left on, refuse to be alone anywhere in the house.

He sighed, taking another swig from the bottle. He gave a start and looked at the label.

“This shit is pretty good,” he mused aloud.

Then there was the prospect of Lucia learning that Roberto had been involved in her kidnapping and the death of Elena. On the one hand, it might free her of the guilt she felt in having brought them to the mall this morning. No matter where she had gone or what she had done, Roberto would have set her up for this. The only thing that her being at the mall had done was enable him to know where she would be and when.

Everyone knew about her rivalry with a few other women her age over fashion. It was something that young women did and it was harmless, especially for families with the kind of money the Delgado's and the others controlled. You had to spend it on something after all.

Roberto had known that the new collections would bring his sister to the Gavanza that morning, as it always did. He'd set things up so that no matter when it happened, he was ready. Had probably played a part in Freddy Parmano getting that job to set things up, even. He took another hit of the bottle as that thought hit him.

“Damn that's good,” he said aloud as he swallowed another smooth mouthful of brandy.

What a fucked up life I lead, Tony mused. My father's a mob boss. My mother might as well be. My sister is an airhead. My oldest brother is a snake. My best friend is the most wanted assassin in the Commonwealth. My other brother is a genius at math and an idiot in everything else.

“And I'm a cook on a tramp freighter who flunked out of med school,” he finished aloud, taking another deep draught from the bottle.

“This is pretty good stuff. I wonder what it cost?” he looked once more at the now nearly empty bottle. “Damn, it's almost gone, too,” he sighed. “Well, no sense bein' wasteful!” he tipped the bottle up, his head thrown back to receive the nectar within, and just kept on tipping until he was laying on the floor and out cold, bottle still gripped tightly in his hand.

The label on the now drained bottle declared it to be the container of a finely decanted four-hundred-year-old cognac.

Definitely 'pretty good stuff'.

-

While Tony was lamenting the loss of innocence his delicate flower of a sister had suffered, said 'flower' was sneaking down the hallway of the guest wing on the second floor of the Delgado home. She had managed to leave her room using an old crawl space that was used for servicing dumbwaiters, a trick she had developed as a child to allow her to roam the house after hours.

She wasn't roaming tonight, however. She knew exactly where she was going.

-

Sean was instantly awake when he heard the lock on his guestroom door turn. He didn't move or otherwise react, but his hand tightened on the pistol beneath his pillow while his other hand went to the hilt of his knife, wedged between the mattress and springs of his bed.

This could be anyone. Someone on the staff who had supported Roberto, someone on the security team who resented him being in the house. It could even be someone sent by the old man to tidy up what some in his position might consider a loose end. He didn't want to believe that latter part, but the man's wife had asked him, Sean, to kill her own son. Anything was possible here.

The door made no sound as it opened, a sliver of light from the hallway falling on the bed. His eyes cracked just enough to see a form in the doorway but he couldn't make out who it might be. The door closed with a 'click', and he heard the door lock engaged again.

As soon as he heard that, Sean sat straight up in bed, pistol pointed at his uninvited guest.

-

Lucia turned to see a shadow moving behind her and scrambled to find the light controls on the wall. This hadn't been part of her plan. She hit the switch, illuminating the room to see Sean Galen pointing a gun right at her head.

“Hey!” she managed not to scream as she put her hands up to show they were empty. “It's just me!”

“What in the fires of hell are you doing here?” Sean demanded, lowering the hammer of the pistol and laying it aside. “You should be resting or something, shouldn't you? And don't you know how dangerous it is to be sneaking around, breaking into people's bedrooms in the middle of the night?”

“I can't rest,” she told him, shrugging. “I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see it all over again. And I wasn't sneaking, I was using discretion,” she corrected him primly. “And I didn't break in, either,” she held up a key. “I used this!”

“Well, that makes it all better, don't it?” Sean growled. He was tired and not in the mood for foolishness.

“Where did you go?” she asked him plainly, still standing just inside the door.

“Out,” he told her.

“Yeah, I got that much,” she shot back. “But where?” she demanded.

“I can't see how that concerns you little girl,” Sean told her.

“I'm not a little girl!” Lucia shot back, hands on her hips and anger on her face. “I'm almost twenty years old I'll have you know!”

“Oh, well,” Sean snorted, leaning back against the wall. He was glad he had his tee shirt on. Being in an unfamiliar place, he had chosen to wear pants and his tee shirt while lying on the bed. “If you're almost twenty, that makes all the difference.”

“I'm glad you see it that way,” Lucia smiled, missing Sean's sarcasm altogether. Or maybe just ignoring it, he wasn't sure. She took the few steps separating them and stopped right beside his bed, looking at him.

“What?” he asked her.

“I want to stay with you,” she said plainly.

“That is not a good plan,” he shook his head at once, rising off the wall and sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sit with his feet on the floor. “You got no business being in here at all.”

“I'm afraid,” she told him, her bluster gone. “I'm afraid and it doesn't matter how many people are on the grounds or standing outside my window or my door, I'm still afraid. And I'm exhausted. I need to sleep but I can't no matter how hard I try. And before you say it, I won't take any drugs. They drugged me when they took me. I'm not going to be drugged again.” Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly, but she seemed to be fighting it rather than using it.

“Go sleep with your parents,” Sean told her. “Or bunk with Tony, for that matter.”

“I'm not sleeping with my parents!” she shot back, temper flaring. “And ew, I'm not about to share a bed with my brother!”

“But you will with me, is that it?” Sean demanded. What in the hell had he done to deserve this?

“Well,” she bit her lower lip and looked away, face turning red. “I. . .I mean I don't want. . .that is I'm not here for, you know. . .that,” she settled for saying, her face almost glowing. “I mean it's not that you aren't really good loo-I didn't just say that,” she put her hands over her face.

“Thanks, I think,” Sean chuckled. “Why are you here?”

“You make me feel safe,” she told him, peeking at him from between her fingers. “I need to feel safe, just for a bit. Just so I can sleep.” She allowed her hands to fall so he could see her face, a pleading expression on it now.

“Please?”

It wasn't really an unreasonable request Sean admitted to himself. She felt vulnerable, and he had been the one to find her and cut her loose. In her mind that made him 'safe'. It made him her safety net. He could understand that and even sympathize with it, up to a point.

But there were so many things wrong with Lucia Delgado being in his bedroom that he didn't know where to start. Might as well start with the fact that the man he considered his best friend was her brother and was already a bit testy where this was concerned. Then there was her father, who was apparently the mob boss on this entire planet, not to mention a large chunk of the settled galaxy.

And her mother was of the Blood. Had sent him just hours ago to kill one of her own children. Those were just the few things that came to him right off the top of his head. In addition to all that was the fact that the last thing he needed was for this girl to end up dependent on him to feel 'safe'. She would in all likelihood never be 'unsafe' again in her life. He doubted she'd be allowed, or would want, to venture off these grounds with less than a dozen guards around her. While she might think she needed him tonight to be 'safe', he knew she didn't.

Or did he? The thought hit him all at once and he was amazed that he hadn't considered it before. He was prepared to think that whoever was breaking into his room was a supporter of Roberto Delgado, so what made him so sure now that he didn't have someone working still inside the house?

I should have put him to the question before I killed him, he thought to himself suddenly. In the old days I'd still have been working on him, getting information from him. He was definitely going soft.

For that matter, could they even be sure that someone on the house staff wasn't helping him? Sean didn't know any of them at all so he had no way to gauge how loyal or not they might be to the parents. Or to the family as a whole. What if the Falcone witch had someone working with her that was somehow inside the house? Even just providing information?

“What is it?” Lucia asked, seeing his face as his mind worked over all of this.

“Nothing,” he told her, shaking his head. “What makes you think it's safe to be here with me?” he asked her.

“You. . .I mean it was you that. . .you were the one who came and got me,” she stammered finally.

“That doesn't make me safe to be around,” he told her flatly. “And there is no way, and I do mean no way that your family will take kindly to finding you here in the morning.”

“Don't worry,” she smiled weakly. “I'll protect you!”

“Great,” Sean sighed. After everything that had gone through his mind just now, there was no way he could send her out again. Like it or not, he was stuck with her for tonight.

“Fine,” he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “You can stay, but just for tonight!” he emphasized with a finger pointed toward the ceiling.

“Thank you!” Lucia smiled brightly and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly before he could stop her.

“What the hell are you doing!” he demanded, prying her away.

“Sorry,” she sounded in no way apologetic. “Sorry. I was just really relieved, that's all. Thank you,” she said again, almost murmuring this time.

“Lay down then, and be quiet,” he told her, getting up. He took a chair and wedged it under the doorknob, blocking the door from being opened again as she had.

“What's that for?” she asked as she bounced onto the bed, moving to the other side and waiting for him to return.

“To keep anyone else from using their discretion and a key to not break into my room,” he told her, his tone acidic to say the least. “Here,” he tossed her a blanket that he had left at the foot of the bed.

“You don't snore, do you?” Lucia asked suddenly, spreading the blanket out over herself.

“What?” Sean looked at her over his shoulder, having sat back down on the bed.

“Do you snore?” she asked more pointedly. “That might keep me awake,” she explained.

“I don't snore,” he promised. “We're taught not to as children,” he said without thinking.

“What?” she looked at him oddly. “How do you teach someone not to snore?”

“I'm too tired for this,” he told her, shaking his head as he hit the light and leaned back onto his pillow. “You can stay, so long as you're quiet. I'm tired too and need to sleep at least some, alright?”

“Okay,” she said softly, turning on her side to face him. “I'll be quiet,” she promised.

“I'll believe it when I see it,” he scoffed.

“That's mean,” she semi-pouted. “I promised, didn't I?” He felt her moving and suddenly she was a warm presence at his side, her arm coming to a rest on his abdomen.

“You don't mind, do you?” she asked timidly.

“I guess not,” he sighed, defeated. “Your brother will probably kill me tomorrow, so don't get used to this.”

“He won't,” she promised, hugging him tighter. “Thank you,” she murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

“You're welcome.”

Beside him, Lucia smiled in the dark, completely satisfied with how her plan had turned out. She hadn't lied to him, she really couldn't sleep and she was scared. And he really did make her feel safe.

But he also made her feel other things as well. Things that made her stomach flutter and her breath catch. It was hard to impress a girl who had someone like Jerome Delgado for a father. She learned what a real man was supposed to be like from him, and none of the 'boys' she had ever spoke to or dated had ever really impressed her. As she'd grown up, older men had began making their approach, hoping to snare her hand and implant themselves into the 'family' by marriage. As the only daughter of the Delgado family she was seen as something of a hot property. She had never liked that feeling, but her parents had never once acted like they considered it a possibility. They didn't need to sell their daughter off to remain in control.

But now she just might have found one who measured up.

Curled into that very man, she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep of someone who was truly exhausted, but felt truly safe.

Beside her, Sean Galen stared at the dark ceiling above him, wondering how he was going to explain this to Tony, let alone to his parents.

-

“Did she go to him?”

“Yes, Dona,” Marisa replied tiredly. “She is in his room.”

“Very well,” Antonia smiled softly to herself. “You have to be exhausted, Marisa. You will not work tomorrow. You will rest.”

“That isn't necessary, Dona,” Marisa said at once.

“Yes, it is,” Antonia insisted. “Today has been hard on you as well. And I have leaned on you a great deal. You will rest.”

“As you say, Dona,” Marisa was too tired to argue. “Dona, se mi permesso ?”

“What is it?”

“Are you sure that this is wise, Dona? That man is. . .I sense a dark nature about him, Dona. Is it good for the bambina to be around such a man?”

“She is safer where she is than if she were in my own arms,” Antonia assured her. “I know that man, Marisa. I know the well he springs from. I would not have allowed Lucia to 'sneak' out if I did not. You may rest assured that she is completely safe. I should imagine she will rest better tonight with him than with a dozen guards around her.”

“As you say, Dona,” Marisa didn't sound convinced, but she wasn't going to argue. “Good night.”

“Goodnight, Marisa.”

CHAPTER NINE

-

Tony stirred slowly from his sleep stupor, head pounding from both the cognac and the bump where he landed the night before.

“Uhn,” he grunted. “What the hell hit me?” he asked the floor as he tried to get to his feet and failed.

“I'll just rest here a minute and try that again,” he told himself, taking that minute to assess his situation. He looked around him in puzzlement until it dawned on him where he was.

“I'm at home?” he asked his bedroom. “How the hell did I get home?” With renewed effort, he struggled to his feet, stumbling a bit as he did so but managing to remain upright. He looked down to see a bottle still clutched in his hand.

“Damn that hurts!” he swore as he released his grip only to find his hand and fingers aching from having grasped the empty bottle so tightly all night. Shaking the hand that he had freed, he lifted the bottle with his better hand and read the label.

“Four hun-, holy shit!” he blurted. “Where did I come by this stuff?” was the first thought he had. “My old man's gonna kill me!” was the second.

“Wait,” he paused, still speaking aloud to his bedroom. “Wait, I think he gave me this last night. I got here. . .Lucia!” he had taken three steps toward the door when he stopped short again.

“No, wait a minute,” he told himself. “Me and Sean, we went and found Lucy yesterday. Didn't we? Yeah, we did,” he nodded to himself firmly. “Okay, that prob'ly explains the booze I guess, but what happened to my head?” he rubbed the back of his head as he turned to look at where he'd woke up.

“Ah,” he grunted, seeing the overturned chair. “Guess that explains the knot.”

Mystery solved, he headed for the shower.

He needed coffee and some breakfast before he could handle any higher thinking today.

-

Sean hadn't realized he had gone to sleep until he woke up. As was his habit he lay still for a moment, allowing his senses to adjust to what was. . . .

There was someone next to him. His mind raced for a moment until he remembered; Lucia Delgado had come to his room last night wanting to stay with him. He relaxed as that memory came to him though anyone watching would have noticed no change. He opened his eyes only to see a pair of bright blue ones looking back at him.

Lucia Delgado was laying on her side, head propped on one hand, looking at him in silence. She smiled softly when he looked at her.

“Good morning,” her voice was as soft as her smile.

“Morning,” he nodded. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” she sighed, stretching herself now that he was awake. He very carefully ignored how that stretch just 'happened' to emphasize her curves. Maybe he'd been a bit premature calling her a little girl the night before.

“So,” he said, rising to a sitting position. “Now that you're all rested you'll be going back to your own room then? I mean before the alarm is raised and what not?” Just as he spoke they heard a shout from the hallway.

“Too late,” she sing-songed, smiling again. “Looks like we've been discovered, Sean Galen. Whatever will we do now?” she batted her eyes at him theatrically.

“I assume I'm probably going to die,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why didn't you leave when you woke up?” he asked.

“I didn't want to,” she said plainly. “I was very comfortable right here, thank you. I never realized just how comfortable these guest rooms are!” she exclaimed, bouncing a little on the big bed.

“Neither did I,” he said dryly.

“Now don't be like that,” she mock pouted. “There are plenty of boys who would be glad to wake up next to me!” she pretended to be indignant.

“Then go find one,” Sean wasn't impressed. “I'm not a boy,” he added with a semi-growl. He wasn't looking at her and so missed the little shiver that went through her at the sound.

“No, you aren't,” she admitted, laying her chin on his shoulder, one hand idly tracing along his back. “And that's why I like you. Not to mention that you're my hero!” she kissed his cheek.

“Stop doing that!” he scolded, getting to his feet.

“Afraid you'll like it?” she teased, sitting up on the bed.

“Afraid someone will see you is more like it,” he replied, though without any real heat. “You really shouldn't be here, Lucia,” he told her more seriously. “It's bad for you reputation, for one thing. And I'm not the best person for a girl like you to be around,” he admitted.

“I'm not a girl, Sean Galen,” Lucia said plainly. “I am a grown woman. I admit I may not always act like one, but I still am one.  And I grew up a lot yesterday,” she added, her voice falling to a near whisper.

“You handled yourself just fine, I'd say,” he complimented her. “You were trying to get yourself free when I found you. And you were preparing to attack whoever I might have been if you'd had the chance, too.”

“How can you possibly know that?” she looked dumbfounded.

“I could see,” he shrugged. “You tensed, then went slack just a couple seconds later. Completely still. That signaled you were planning to take action if the opportunity presented itself.”

Lucia didn't say anything but her eyes told him he was correct.

“I really did sleep well,” she settled for saying instead. “There's no way I would have if you hadn't let me stay here.”

“Don't get used to it,” he told her flatly. “I imagine I'll be leaving today. Assuming of course that your father or brother doesn't kill me first,” he added dryly. “You'll be on your own soon, either way.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, drawing her knees up beneath her chin and hugging her legs to her.

“I have a job, remember?” he told her as he went to the bathroom. “I have to get back to it. I'm sure the Captain will want to know what we've been up to. And she can be pushy about that,” he said, turning on the water and washing his face. He took a new toothbrush that had been left on the sink and the paste and began to brush his teeth.

“Why not quit then?” Lucia was standing right beside him when she spoke again. “No reason to put up with that.”

“Ah 'ike mah 'ob,” he said around the brush.

“You like your job?” she translated. “Well, why couldn't you like something else, then?” she asked him. “I'm sure you could find a job here,” she added. He rinsed his mouth out and began to lather his face to shave.

“I get to travel a lot with the job I have,” he said, wondering all the time why he was explaining that to her. “See a lot of places. I like that.”

“Well, if you stayed here, with me, then we could travel together,” Lucia said slowly, drawing out the words as if she were afraid to say them. Afraid of the answer.

“That's not a good idea,” he told her at once, picking up a knife and beginning to shave with it.

“There's a razor, you know,” Lucia pointed out, indicating a brand new razor lying on the sink.

“This works just fine,” he told her, scraping his whiskers off with the small knife he normally used for such things.

“Why isn't it a good idea?” she asked. She was jumping from point to point, possibly trying to confuse him, or else camouflage what she was really trying to say.

“It's just not,” he told her. “I don't always do well in civilized areas,” he admitted without thinking.

“You make it sound like you're some kind of savage!” she laughed. Her laughter died as she realized he wasn't reacting to what she'd said.

“That was a joke,” she clarified.

“I wasn't joking,” he told her flatly. “I wouldn't make it a week here before I killed someone.” He kicked himself mentally as soon as the words were out of his mouth. How was she getting him to talk like this?

“That's nothing,” she waved the concern away. “People get killed here all the time. Just a way of life for us.”

“Be that as it may, there's still some authority here and I don't do well with authority figures,” he replied. Finished shaving, he took a washrag and removed the excess soap from his face.

“My father is generally the authority here,” Lucia said candidly. “And I'm pretty sure he likes you,” she added.

“Until he realizes his pride and joy spent last night in my bed,” Sean nodded. “At which point I would imagine that any goodwill he has for me will go right out the airlock.”

“It's not like you violated me for God's sake!” she rolled her eyes. “Not that I would-”

“Stop,” Sean raised a hand to shoulder level. “Just stop.”

“Fine,” she huffed, arms crossing beneath her breasts. “All I'm saying is that there are worse places to be than here on San Lucia. With me,” she added plainly. He sighed suddenly, looking up at the ceiling as if to say 'why me?' before looking back at her.

“You haven't even known me a full day, girl,” his voice showed his exasperation. “You don't know the first thing about me. And how long would it be before you got bored with me? Hm? Before you lost interest and realized that your 'hero' is just a plain old ordinary guy. An engineer on a small-time space freighter. There's nothing glamorous or heroic about any of that, Lucia. I promise.” He moved by her back into the bed room.

“I'm not that shallow!” she shot back at him. “I may act it on occasion, not that you would know, but I'm not. And I fully realize I don't know much about you, hence my asking you to think about staying around so that I can get to know you!”

“For what?” he demanded, sitting down on the bed, pulling on his socks and then his shoes. “What does a girl like you want to get to know a guy like me for anyway?”

“I. . .I just think you're interesting, that's all,” she managed not to stammer too badly. “And you're still my hero, no matter what you think.”

“I. Am. Not. A. Hero,” he bit the words out, pulling his boots on. “I never have been. You may see me that way, but that's just because I helped you out of a bad situation. That doesn't make me a hero, Lucy,” he used the name her brother had used. “It just makes me in the right place at the right time. Nothing more.” He stood, looking down at her.

“There are things about me you don't know that would have you running to hide if you did,” he told her plainly. “I'm not a good guy. I'm not even an okay guy. I don't know that I ever was, and if I was I haven't been one in a long time. Odds are I never will be, either.”

“I am nothing but trouble to a girl like you, or to any woman for that matter,” he continued as he gathered his things and stuffed them into his pockets. “Now, as flattering as your attention is, and it is flattering,” he promised, “it's better that you forget about it. Understand? I'm not fit company for civilized people and that. . .that's just the cold hard facts of life.”

“It's time you got out of here and got back to your own room, or wherever you normally go this time of morning,” he said gently. “Preferably without anyone seeing you leave,” he allowed her a small grin as he spoke.

“Fine,” she told him. “I'll go for now. But I'm telling you right now, Sean Galen,” a small finger came up to his face. “You won't be rid of me that easy!” With that she whirled on her heels and yanked open the door, not quite slamming it behind her on the way out.

“Good grief,” he sighed as she was finally gone. “What next?”

“What the hell are you doing in there?!” he heard from outside the doorway and cringed, shaking his head slowly.

“I had to ask.”

-

A long hot shower and shave had left Tony feeling semi-human again and he decided it was time to collect his friend and then find some breakfast. It took him a minute in his mildly hungover state to remember where Galen was.

Or where he was supposed to be.

The memory of his mother informing him that Sean had been sent to kill Roberto flooded back into his mind, along with her casual mention that Sean was a 'distant kinsman' of hers. She hadn't mentioned how distant, or how they were related if it came to that. Still, Tony couldn't help wonder what the odds were that his best friend, who he had met on a small-time freighter hopping the galaxy, would somehow be related to his mother.

“Luka would know,” he muttered to himself. “If I could get him to listen long enough to explain it,” he added. He hit the second-floor landing of the stairs and made his way down the hall toward Sean's room. He had almost forgotten in the years he'd been gone just how big this place really was. Of course there were a lot of people living here other than just his family. Most of the staff lived on the grounds if not in the house itself.

As he neared Sean's door he saw something that made him forget all about how big his parent's house was, how his friend and his mother were related, or even that his oldest brother, the rat, was now probably in a dumpster somewhere.

The door to Sean's room opened and his baby sister, his sweet little bratty flower of a sister, emerged into the hallway and slammed the door closed behind her.

“What the hell are you doing in there?!” he shouted.

“None of your business,” Lucia shot back, still angry at what she perceived as a rejection.

“Like hell it's not!” Tony retorted. “What the hell is going on between you and Galen?” he demanded.

“None. Of. Your. Business.” She bit the words off angrily. “And stop yelling, for God's sake!” she added. “You sound like a sidewalk hawker!”

“Lucia, what were you doing in Galen's room?” he demanded again, this time in a much quieter tone. One she recognized as her over-protective big brother exerting himself.

“I'm not going to tell you again, Antonio,” she crossed her arms in defiance. “What I was doing in no way concerns you. And if you say a single word to him about it, I will find a way to make you pay for it. Understand?”

With that she stormed past him down the hallway, not even bothering to look back. Furious, Tony went straight to Sean's door and opened it without knocking, storming inside.

“What the hell did you do to my sister?!” he shouted.

“Do come in,” Sean said dryly, looking up from where he was cleaning the knife he'd used to shave. “And close the door,” he added seriously.

“I'm not fucking around with you, Galen!” Tony slammed the door shut. “What was my baby sister doing in your damn room?”

“Galen, is it?” Sean looked up again. “Are we back on a last name basis? Delgado? Giannini? What do you want me to call you, since you're calling me Galen now?”

That seemed to take some of the wind from Tony's sails for some reason.

“Sean,” he said slowly, “if you in any way touched my sister inappropriately, I swear to God-”

“Inappropriately?” Sean snorted. “You're lecturing me on inappropriate?” He stood abruptly, putting the small knife away. “For your information, and I mean for your information only, she came here last night because she was afraid.” He let that sink in for a minute.

“She snuck in here because she was too afraid to go to sleep in her own bed in her own room, even though there were guards outside her door and her window. Come to think of it,” he frowned suddenly, “how did she get out of her room without some of them seeing her?”

“Probably through the service duct,” Tony replied. “She used to do it all the time when she was a kid. And if she was afraid, why didn't she come to me?” he demanded.

“I suggested that, or to your parents,” Sean nodded. “She thought it was childish to sleep with her parents and somehow perverted to sleep with you,” he shrugged. “Apparently, that left me.”

“So you slept with my sister,” Tony made the declaration sound flat.

“Slept,” Sean stressed. “She curled up under a blanket on the far side of this ridiculously huge bed and slept. That's all.”

“And I'm just supposed to believe that,” Tony snorted. Suddenly Sean's eyes seemed to contract just a little and his demeanor changed somewhat.

“I couldn't care less what you believe,” he almost whispered. “If you think I'd lie to you, if you think I'd somehow violate your sister at all, let alone in your parent's home, then I'm fairly certain you don't know me nearly as well as you thought, Antonio.” His use of Tony's full and proper name didn't go unnoticed. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see about getting a ride back to the Celia since I appear to have worn out my welcome here.” He took a step, then stopped.

“And by the way?” he added. “The reason I let her stay? Was because when she was sneaking in here and I didn't know it was her, it crossed my mind that someone in this house might yet be working with the Falcones, or with whoever they're working for assuming they were hired to do this. Sending her back out alone after she'd made it this far just didn't seem smart. So I let her stay. She slept soundly, right there, under her own blanket while I slept right there,” he pointed to the other side of the large bed, “above the cover. And that's honestly more information than you deserve, seeing how she is an adult.” With that he pulled the door opened and walked out, leaving his 'friend' behind.

-

“First the girl and now him,” Sean muttered to himself as he made his way down the back stairs of the home. He wasn't part of the same society the Delgados were, so he didn't go down the front stairs. He was in the hallway looking for Marisa when he saw Antonia Delgado looking at him.

“Walk with me,” she said simply, her tone indicating she meant for him to do so. She was clearly accustomed to wielding power. To issuing orders and those orders being obeyed. She would have made a fine tribal matriarch had she remained at home.

“Alright,” he agreed with a sigh. What now?

“I must assume since you returned last evening that I am indebted to you yet again,” she said as the two made their way out to the back veranda of the immense home. Sean reached into his pocket in way of answer and removed the ring he'd taken from Roberto's finger.

“B'izo yii'sh'zii,” he said softly. His star has gone dark. He handed the ring to her without fanfare.

“I see,” she accepted it stoically, looking at it for a moment as she turned it over in her hand. She looked up, staring into the distance at nothing for another moment of silence, then looked back to Sean.

“It is a hard thing, Bringer of Storms, to take vengeance upon one's own,” she said softly.

“So it is,” he nodded.

“You speak from experience,” she said rather than asked.

“I'm afraid so,” he admitted. “I also took this,” he reached behind him and pulled out the small booklet he had found in Roberto's things, handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she accepted the journal without opening it. “I will give it to my husband. There is likely a record of the distasteful things that Roberto has done recorded here, somewhere.”

“No idea,” Sean shrugged. “I just went through what was there and brought this because it looked important.” He paused, and when she said nothing he continued.

“I need to call a cab,” he said simply. She looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“You are leaving?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I have outstayed my welcome, I think,” he admitted.

“With who?” she frowned. “I know it is not my daughter that thinks so,” she almost smiled. “I know where she spent the night, Stormcrow.”

“Don't call me that,” Sean asked softly. “My name is Sean. Sean Galen.”

“As you wish,” she nodded. “Your welcome here is exhausted when I say it is, Sean Galen. I make the rules in this house, not my son. My daughter is enamored with you,” she said simply, looking back out  toward the back of the estate grounds.

“It will pass soon enough,” Sean saw no reason to deny something the woman clearly knew to be the truth.

“Why does this bother you?” she looked back to him yet again. “Many a man would love to have her attention. Why do you shun it?”

“You know who I am,” he replied evenly. “What I've done. She doesn't need to be around a man like me, Mrs. Delgado. You know that. She will know it as well, in time.”

“I cannot agree,” Antonia shook her head, her long black hair swaying behind her. “I told you I was once called Eyes Afar.” He nodded. “I was not called that because I kept my gaze on distant worlds, wishing to see more than the home I was born to.”

“You have the Sight,” Sean realized what she was saying.

“I do, though without access to the Caves it has dimmed over the years,” she admitted. “Still, when Lucia was born, Sean Galen, I had a vision of her with a man. A man covered in blood, in fact. A warrior who bears the brand of the AriPerro.” Her gaze was piercing as she looked at him, as if searching into his soul. Eyes Afar was an apt name for this woman, he decided.

“It can't be me,” he said finally. “I am and will always be a wanted man, Mrs. Delgado. That will never change. Sooner or later I will be too slow, or will not be watching, and that will be that. If you have the Sight, you know how my story ends.”

She was silent for a moment, studying him. Then she once more returned her gaze to the distance before them.

“There is always more than one end to any story, Sean Galen,” her voice startled him when she began to speak again, so soft he had to strain to hear. “Lucia may well have to take Jerome's seat at the head of this family one day. Luka, our other son, is a hapless academic. I am very proud of him make no mistake, but his prowess would do him no good in our world. Antonio is afraid of what he would become, I think, and resists the idea that he should take his father's place. With Roberto gone, that leaves only Lucia. She is young and at times impetuous, but she is also highly intelligent and very determined. This ordeal will have hardened her my husband believes, and I agree assuming she can recover from the trauma of losing her governess, a woman who has been with her literally since the day she was born.”

“I'm sure she'll do fine,” Sean settled for saying when Antonia fell silent. “There is strength in her that I do not believe she herself yet sees. When her time is upon her, she will rise.”

“I am sure you are correct,” she nodded finally. “If you are determined to go, at least let me send you away with a full stomach,” she smiled suddenly. “You have done much for me, Sean Galen. Allow me to do this small thing for you. And know that should you ever need our help, we are but a call away. You will find that having the Delgado as a friend is no small thing.”

“I would imagine that to be very true,” Sean ventured a small smile. “And breakfast does sound good,” he admitted. “I don't recall when I ate last, now that I think about it.”

“Then come with me.”

-

Still fuming, Tony stalked his way down the main stairway into the receiving hall and moved toward the dining room. There should be someone cooking this time of morning. If there wasn't, well, it wasn't as if he couldn't cook for himself, was it?

He wasn't sure who he was angrier with at the moment; Sean, for letting Lucy stay with him like that, Lucy for going to him in the first place, or himself for laying into his friend without even giving him the benefit of the doubt. A friend who had helped him yesterday save his sister from certain death.

“That is a fierce look upon your face, my son,” his mother's voice made him draw up short. He turned to see her standing down the hallway, looking at him.

“Mother,” he nodded, moving to kiss her cheek. “Good morning.”

“Is it, my son?” she asked him, eyebrow raised in question.

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“I am forced to wonder at your treatment of a man you called friend just yesterday,” she told him. “A man who followed you and assisted you in saving the life of your sister at that. A man that you trusted enough to bring here with you and introduce to your family.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony more or less mumbled. “Things can change in a hurry around here.”

“Indeed they can,” she nodded. “I can see but two reasons for your anger, Antonio, and neither is your concern.”

“How can you say that!” he demanded.

“What he did last night he did at my behest,” she replied flatly. “If there is someone you need to blame for that you must blame me, for it was my decision that your brother pay for his offense.” She said it plainly for once, shocking her son a little.

“As for Lucia,” her eyebrow shot up again, “she is a grown woman who knows her own mind. It is not for you to decide how she spends her time, or who she spends it with.”

“She's my sister!” Tony protested.

“That does not make you her guardian or her keeper,” his mother replied firmly.

“You know where she slept last night!?” he demanded, voice rising slightly.

“Do not raise your voice to me, boy,” Antonia's voice was suddenly hard and cold, catching him by surprise. “You may be a man grown but I am your mother and you will show me the respect I am due, more especially in my own house!”

Taken aback by her savage response, Tony looked chagrined as he apologized.

“I'm sorry,” he said in a softer tone. “I didn't mean to be disrespectful.”

“Then cease to be so,” she was not mollified. “And yes, though it is not your concern, I know exactly where she spent her night. You will find that nothing happens in this house that I do not learn of sooner or later. And if you think my daughter was able to do anything last night without my knowledge, then you sadly underestimate your mother.”

“I can't believe you're okay with that,” Tony shook his head in wonder.

“Okay with what, exactly?” Antonia cocked her head to one side, studying her son intently. “That your sister has chosen a man indeed to give her attention to, rather than one of the countless vultures and hang-arounds that generally compete for her time and attention? That she spent the night chastely in his company?”

“How can you know that?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“I know my daughter,” Antonia replied coolly. “While she may be infatuated with Sean Galen, she is not in any way so far gone as to surrender her maidenhood to him, not even in appreciation for saving her life. She has sworn to remain chaste until she marries. Not at my request, or your father's, but of her own accord.”

“I didn't know that,” Tony admitted, a bit shame-faced.

“It is difficult to know anything when you are never at home and only rarely call,” she had no mercy on her son this morning. “You show up suddenly after so long away and think that you can dictate to your sister as if she were still a child? You amuse me, my son,” she actually smirked a bit. “Your sister has grown up in the years you have been away, whether at school or aboard your ship. She is no longer a child, though she does occasionally still act as one. That I attribute to her free spirit more than any immaturity. Consider that despite her ordeal yesterday, she has not broken. Bent, yes. Broken, no.”

“All the more reason to be careful with her!” he insisted. “Someone could take advantage of her in that state!”

“The man you call friend would never dishonor this house in such a manner,” she told him flatly.

“How is it you know so much about him, anyway?” Tony demanded. “And what is this crap about him being a distant kinsman?”

“His mother and mine are of the same people,” she told him easily, there being no reason to hide it. “I should say were, as both his mother and mine are are now with our ancestors.”

“What?” she couldn't have surprised him more.

“You heard me,” she didn't bother to repeat it. “Why do you think he was willing to help me regain my honor? And should your sister convince him that she is worth his time, who are you to object to that? Until she showed an interest in him, he was your 'best friend' I believe you called him? He was good enough to accompany you yesterday and save her life, to shed blood for this family, but not for her to have an interest in as a man? This makes no sense to me, my son.”

“You don't know him!” Tony objected. “You don't know what he's capable of!”

“To the contrary. I know exactly who he is, and precisely what he is capable of,” his mother assured him. “And I grow tired of repeating myself that this does not concern you”, her voice hardened once again. “You were the one to decide that you must leave us, and you did. Do not now presume to return and think that you can merely begin dictating what will be. I will not tolerate it, nor will your father.”

“And you should think carefully before tossing away such a valuable friendship over something that is not only not your concern, but a product of your imagination.”

She turned and walked away from him before he could respond to that, leaving Tony a bit confused and at least slightly ashamed.

He continued his way into the dining room thinking about what his mother had said.

-

Sean looked up from his meal to see Tony walking into the dining room, head down, hands in his pockets. He didn't bother to speak to his 'friend', instead returning to his meal in silence.

“Sorry, Sean,” he heard Tony say a moment later. “I didn't see you there.”

Sean shrugged but said nothing in reply, continuing with his breakfast. Whatever faults this place might have, food wasn't one of them. Even Tony's cooking wasn't this good.

“And I'm sorry about earlier, too,” Tony continued when he realized Sean had nothing to say. “I was out of line.”

Sean shrugged again, as if it were no matter to him one way or another, and kept eating. He could hear Tony fidget a bit further down the table but ignored it in favor of the plate before him.

“I said I'm sorry,” Tony spoke louder this time.

“I heard you,” Sean finally answered, not bothering to look up.

“Well?” Tony demanded after another moment of silence. “Aren't you going to say something?”

“I make it a point not to speak when I'm angry,” Sean told him flatly. “I make mistakes that way.”

“I said I was sorry about that!” Tony insisted, his tone indicating that this should be enough to make everything all right between them.

“And I said I heard you,” Sean nodded. “That doesn't make me any less angry at the moment. Soon as I'm done eating I'll be catching a ride back to the ship. You probably want to call sometime and tell the Captain whatever you're going to tell her, assuming you're going to tell her anything.”

“Sean, man, don't be like that, all right?” Tony entreated.

“You called me a liar,” Sean's voice was quiet, but hard for all of that as it cracked across the table. “You questioned my honor, and that of your sister. Butting into something that was absolutely none of your business, I might add.” He took the last bite from his plate and carefully chewed it, wiping his mouth on the silk napkin provided before taking a drink of water to finish his meal. That done, he stood rather abruptly.

“At the moment, I couldn't care less what you think, what you say, or how sorry you are,” he said simply. “I stood by you as a friend yesterday, and by this morning all that was forgotten when you stormed into my room, assuming the worst of me without even bothering to ask. That's fine. It's your house, your prerogative. Mine is to leave and be shut of you.” With that he headed out the back way, through the kitchen, leaving his 'friend' shame-faced at the table.

“I told you not to say anything,” Lucia's voice came from behind him and he turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, face marred in anger. “Told you to leave him alone or I'd make you sorry. And you still couldn't help yourself, could you?”

“Lucia, this has got nothing to do with-”

“Shut up,” his sister's voice was flat, cutting him off short. “It has everything to do with me, since you took it on yourself to butt into my life and try to dictate to me how I live and who I see. I'm not a little girl, Antonio. In case you missed it, I happened to grow up while you were gone. Years you were gone without so much as a postcard, and that's fine. You're a grown man, you have to do what you have to do. But don't think for a damn minute that I'm going to let you intrude into my business or my life now that you happen to come by for a visit!”

“I was just trying to look out for you,” Tony's excuse sounded lame, even to him.

“Right,” Lucia nodded. “Just trying to look out for me. Some things never change,” she sighed, shaking her head sadly. “You need to understand something, Antonio,” her voice hardened again. “I like him. I like him a lot. I know I don't know him that well before you bother saying it,” she held up a hand to forestall his comment. “That is completely beside the point. I still like him and regardless of what you think, or what he thinks for that matter, I am going to get to know him better and he's going to like it. You don't have a say in that, brother. None. So the easiest thing for you to do is accept it and move on. Got that?”

“I got it,” he nodded. “It's just that he's not w-”

“Antonio,” her voice took on a warning timbre. “I'll find out what he is or isn't on my own. Understand? And your opinion of him isn't going to be the same as mine. I love you Antonio, I do. Before you two found me yesterday I was wishing you were here because I knew I could count on you to get me out of trouble. Then, just like a genie somewhere heard me, you two saved me when I was sure I was dead. It was like somehow you knew I'd need you yesterday and you made your way here for me. But this doesn't concern you, big brother. Keep out of it. Please, don't make me tell you again.” With that she turned on her heel and was gone. Tony sat there for a minute, still reeling from a triple dressing down. He deserved it he admitted, but it was still a rough morning.

“Every woman in my family,” he shook his head finally. “They're all on his side. How is that fair?”

-

“We still haven't heard from either one?” Meredith asked. Jessica had cooked breakfast and done a good job, but it wasn't Tony's cooking. No one said it, but even Jess was thinking it.

“No Cap'n,” Faulks shook her head.

“No ma'am,” Jessica echoed.

“You can try their com units,” Lincoln offered.

“First thing I did this morning,” Meredith admitted. “Nothing.”

“Well, it's just one day,” Lincoln shrugged. “And, we aren't working at the moment. I'd be shocked to find out that Sean has left anything much undone in Engineering anyway.”

“Ship is in good shape, Cap'n,” Faulks agreed with him. “I know me and Galen ain't always got along, but he's a first rate engineer and he don't let nothin' skate.”

“I know that,” Meredith nodded. “I'm not. . .I just want to know what the hell is going on!” she didn't quite snap. “After what happened at the restaurant last night I just have a feeling the two of them are into something bad, that's all.”

“I can't imagine anything the two of them can't get themselves out of,” Lincoln shrugged. “And honestly, if they can't, I don't see what help we'd be to them unless it's bail money,” he tried to joke but it didn't go over well.

“That's not funny,” she told him, though she did smile slightly. “And I'm the first to admit this place has a lot to attract two healthy young men, but I think we all know that whatever they were into last night isn't entertainment related.”

Heads nodded around the table. There was little doubt that the two of them had been into something that went beyond a good time.

“I wouldn't be surprised if that 'gas leak' wasn't a result of their visit, either,” Meredith continued. “And again, just for the record, I'm not angry or judging. I'm worried is what I am,” she admitted finally.

“We know, Cap'n,” Faulks offered.

“We are too,” Jessica admitted. “I don't know what that was about last night, but you're definitely right that it wasn't anything casual. Tony rarely looks or acts serious, but he was dead set serious last night.”

“What about Galen?” Meredith asked.

“He always looks serious,” Jessica shrugged. “I think I've seen him laugh three, maybe four times since I've known him. Of course, he doesn't have much to laugh about, I guess,” she added after a few seconds. “I wouldn't be able to tell if he was any more serious last night than he normally would be.”

“They could at least check in and let us-” Meredith began, only to be cut off by the buzzing of the airlock warning.

“I bet that's them now,” Lincoln said, rising. The rest of the crew followed suit as Lincoln headed for the cargo bay and the airlock entrance. When they got there, Sean Galen was coming up the stairs looking no worse for wear.

“Where's Tony?” Meredith asked. “And what have you to been in to?”

“Good to see you too, Captain,” Sean replied dryly. “Tony was visiting with someone when I headed back. Can't say who, but I didn't ask. We just had something we had to look in to last night, that's all. Wasn't much, but we didn't want anything tied to the ship if it turned out to be more than it was, that's all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we distanced ourselves from you, like at the restaurant, so that if we ended up in trouble it wouldn't hit any of you,” Sean clarified. “We weren't sure how things would go. Turned out fine, though, all things considered. Everything is good so far as I know. What did you guys find out at the doctor? And congratulations on the test, by the way,” he winked at Jessica, who blushed slightly but grinned equally brightly.

“I'm officially a licensed pilot!”

“I needed these,” Lincoln tapped his glasses. “And I have a small cataract that has to be removed tomorrow.”

“So you don't have any permanent damage?” Sean asked, his face showing his pleasure at that possibility.

“No, I don't, thanks to you,” Linc smiled. “I should be right as right can be in a week or ten days if everything goes well. Between the glasses and the surgery I should actually be much better off once I've recovered.”

“That is just outstanding!” Sean beamed. “I'm happy for you, Linc,” he actually patted the other man on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Sean,” Linc smiled back.

“So is the law going to show up later looking for you two?” Meredith asked, trying to keep her tone light but wanting to get more information.

“No, Captain,” Sean shook his head, still grinning. “No one will be looking for us. It wasn't that kind of evening.” Technically not a lie he figured, since the odds of the law actually being interested in them were nil thanks to Jerome Delgado's influence.

“Well, we're going to be planet side for at least a week for Lincoln's surgery,” Meredith informed him. “Do you know of any major maintenance we need to hire done?”

“No,” he told her. “If we're going to be cold that long there's some things I'll get done just because we have the time, but maintenance wise we're up to date. I'll do a few things ahead of time just to take advantage of our being on the ground though,” he added thoughtfully, clearly already considering what he needed to do. “There's no sense in wasting the opportunity.”

“Will you need any help?” she asked.

“I might need Faulks to help with the injectors, but it won't take long. I'll probably clear and clean them while we're cold. It takes about a day, day-and-a-half to get them all out, cleaned and back in, but most of that is the cleaning.”

“We've done that before,” Faulks nodded readily. “Won't be no problem, Cap'n. Just let me know when you want to start, Galen.”

“Let me change and we'll get to it now if you've got the time,” Sean said after a moment's thought. “I can get most of it done today and then when you get time tomorrow we can set them back. The alignment will take longer than anything else most likely.”

“We'll be off ship tomorrow for most of the day for Lincoln's surgery,” Meredith reminded him. “If you think we'll need to be here, might want to wait.”

“With Jess here we can manage,” Sean replied. “Unless you guys want us there for the operation. In that case we'll wait until day after tomorrow. We'll still have more than enough time.”

“Nah,” Linc shook his head. “We may need help later on. I don't know what shape I'll be in once this is over and Mere can't really help me physically because of her back. But if I need one of you to help me get back we can call the ship.”

“Well, if we get the injectors out today, Faulks can go with you tomorrow anyway if she wants,” Sean pointed out. “I won't need her help again until I'm ready to remount them. I can always do that when you get back or even the day after.”

“I'll do that then,” Faulks said at once. “After last night, I'd prefer me or you one be with any of them anytime they're off ship.”

“What happened last night?” Sean frowned.

“He doesn't know,” Lincoln said. “I'd forgot all about that, but he and Tony won't know what happened.”

“I would if you told me,” Sean said helpfully.

“Come on to the galley then and we'll fill you in on our wayward waif's latest adventure,” Lincoln chuckled.

“Stop calling me waif!”

CHAPTER TEN

-

Terase Falcone was numb. That was the only word she would have been able to think of to describe how she felt had someone asked her. Two sons gone in one day, her chance at revenge gone along with them, and their payday lost along with the girl.

Worse, the law would be looking for them now and so would the Delgado family. Jerome Delgado was a powerful enemy and he controlled a huge operation. He had soldiers to spare in looking for her and her boys, not to mention the influence he wielded with the city and planetary authorities.

By her estimate, it had taken about two hours for a well planned and executed operation to go straight to hell.

“Ma, what are we gonna do?” Sandy asked for probably the tenth time. “We can't just sit here,” he added when she didn't reply at once.

“I know that,” she finally spoke, her voice cracking slightly. “We have to be careful though. We're still, and we're out of sight. We're not attracting attention. No one knows where we are at the moment so we can take time to plan. We need. . .we need to get off world,” she said, her voice screaming with reluctance.

The last thing she wanted was to abandon her dream of restoring the Falcone name to its former prominence, but after yesterday's fiasco, that dream was pretty much dead.

“You mean leave?” Terry was shocked.

“That's what I said wasn't it?” Terase's voice was harsh. “You want to stay around here knowing that the Delgado knows who killed their people and took their daughter? Ain't losing Sonny and Jamie enough for you?” she demanded. “Or you want to stay around and lose even more?”

“No, ma,” Terry shook his head. “I just. . .I ain't never thought of leavin' San Lucia, that's all. Where would we go?” he asked.

“To the Rim,” Terase said at once. “We'll head out to the Rim. We got assets out there, some, and we can build an operation on a world the Delgado don't know nothin' about. We work, we build, and one day, when we're strong, we'll try again. If not us, then the next generation. You two will raise sons and daughters and we'll teach them and maybe one day, if we can't do it ourselves, then they will get revenge for us. For you brothers, for your uncle, for everyone.”

“It may be ten years or a hundred, but we'll have ours back,” she swore. “This world will be Falcone territory again one day.”

“How do we get there, and when do you want to leave?” Sandy asked. With Sonny gone, someone had to step up and he figured it might as well be him. Terry was a good guy and a good brother, but. . .he wasn't all that bright. While not truly handicapped, he was still thick in the head about some things, and slow sometimes to get the picture.

Losing Jamie had hit Terry almost as hard as it had their mother, too. Terry and Jamie had been close, much closer than any of the rest of them, sharing a father where Sonny and Sandy both had different fathers. Terry would still be able to function, Sandy figured, but he would be much less useful than normal for a while as he adjusted to life without Jamie.

“Always have a backup,” his mother told him. “I've got passage already booked on a small freighter that was holding for my call. I've got a half-dozen others willing to go along with us and they're loading what we're going to take with us even now while the three of us lay low. We've got resources, we've got  man power. And we've got a base already to build on out on the Rim. Like I said, we'll start over, build, and one day we'll come back.” She stood suddenly and the two boys stood with her.

“Make sure this place is clean and we don't leave nothing behind. We'll move once night falls. Ship will be ready to lift and waitin' on us. By this time tomorrow we'll be well and truly gone, on our way out.”

“How long will it take to get there?” Terry asked.

“About a month-and-a-half,” Terase admitted. “Plenty of time to make all the plans we need to and be organized when we set down. I've got a Drops operation out there already, and the ship's Captain will bring what cargo is ready back with him. We'll use that as a start, and build up our operation again. It'll take time and patience, but we'll get it done. Now get to it and get ready to head out.”

“Yes, ma,” both said in unison and started gathering their gear.

Terase looked out the window at the distant skyline of Porto San Lucia. It had been her home since birth and leaving left a bitter taste in her mouth. Just as running did. But for now, it was all she had. She had to get clear and start over. She would need soldiers and resources and she couldn't get that here.

But she would be back. She swore to herself that she would return to her home, one way or another.

-

Tony was at loose ends for the moment. As he had eaten breakfast he had considered what to tell the Captain, if anything. Her attitude towards his home world was poor enough as it was. Should she find out what all had gone on yesterday then it would be incrementally worse and she would probably want him off the ship. That was her choice of course. It was her ship after all.

He had a sudden thought of buying his own small ship, or taking one of the family's. His father owned a number of small to medium shipping companies, most of whom shipped his own goods but also hired out on occasion.

Could he, Tony, command a freighter? Working as a medic and a cook was one thing, but could he manage a ship as a business? Pay the bills, show a profit, manage a crew? He really didn't know. He was sure he could learn, but he'd never bothered to. Of course, he'd never had the thought of it until now.

Maybe that was something to look in to, he mused. He'd be his own boss for a change. Of course, he could be his own boss right here at home too, now, couldn't he? He could come home, stay home, begin learning to take his father's place someday. Find a wife, raise an heir, continue the family name. . . .

That thought sobered him. With Roberto gone and Luka deep into his work, it would likely be up to Antonio to sire a son to carry on the name. If he didn't, and Lucia took her future husband's name, then the Delgado name would. . .would pass away. That was a thought that had never once occurred to him. Never. With three sons, it had likely never occurred to his parents either. He wondered suddenly what his father was thinking this morning, with one traitorous son dead, another that probably didn't know what day of the week it was, and a third that never stayed in one place more than a day or two at a time.

The only dependable offspring the Delgado had was his sister Lucia, he realized with a start. Out of four children, only the youngest and arguably the most childish was one they could count on. There had to be a more irony in that than in finding an honest politician.

He leaned back in his chair for a moment, but then got to his feet. He thought better on his feet, and he definitely had some thinking to do today. He'd chance not getting back with the Captain for a while, until he knew what he might do.

-

“I never thought to be where we find ourselves at this moment, my sweet,” Jerome sighed as he and Antonia sat in his study.

“Nor did I my husband,” she admitted softly.

“What was the commotion earlier?” he asked, looking for a distraction.

“Lucia snuck away from her room last night and it was not discovered until this morning,” she smirked ever so slightly.

“Where did she go?” Jerome asked. “You would think after the events of yesterday-”

“She was afraid,” Antonia cut his tirade off before it could get started. “She went to the one place she felt she could be safe enough to sleep.”

“And where was safer than her own room, here in this mansion, with the ridiculous amount of security we have?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“She slept in Sean Galen's room,” Antonia told him calmly. “She was too afraid to sleep, and she was exhausted. He makes her feel safe,” she shrugged. “She sneaked her way into his room and explained herself, I'm sure after a thorough dressing down by Galen, and he allowed her to stay.”

“He allowed her to stay,” Jerome repeated. Slowly, as if testing the words out for himself.

“Nothing untoward occurred husband, and I knew where she was at all times,” Antonia assured him. He looked at her sharply.

“What are you not telling me?” he said finally, knowing there was more to it than she was saying.

“He is the one,” she said simply. Jerome frowned in confusion for a moment, but then recognition dawned.

“He is the one from your vision,” he said aloud. “Lucia's birth vision you called it.”

“He is,” she nodded. “I could never understand it until I found out who he is. Who he really is, I mean,” she added.

“What do you mean, 'who he really is'?” Jerome asked, his eyebrow now threatening his hairline.

“During the war, the Commonwealth made an enemy of a man who would go on to become the most wanted man in history,” Antonia told him quietly. “They tried unsuccessfully for several years to bring him down, but failed. He is responsible for well over two hundred dead Commonwealth Special Forces Commandos. Alone.”

“His name is Bringer of Storms,” she said it with reverence, he noted. “The Commonwealth knew him as Stormcrow.”

For a moment, there was no reaction other than a frown of concentration, but gradually understanding dawned on her husband.

“You can't be serious,” he almost breathed. “That. . .that boy, is . . . are you sure?” he cut himself off.

“Very sure,” she nodded. “And yes, he is young. Perhaps younger than Antonio. I suspect he is closer to Luka in age, though still perhaps three years older than Lucia. His people were slaughtered almost entirely by a Commonwealth Raider attack. He and a few others were in the Aridas, preparing for a Raising ceremony. They were all that survived of his clan. He took to the stars after that, killing indiscriminately among any Commonwealth he could find. Those who belonged to the group that killed his people he . . . took his time with, shall we say?” a hint of a smile tugged at her lips, but she remained still otherwise.

“He told you this?” Jerome was a naturally suspicious sort.

“He did not, other than his name,” she told him.

“Then how do you know all this?”

“I may be shunned by my people, Lucien Jerome Delgado, but I am not entirely ignorant of the happenings of my home world,” she said with a raised eyebrow of her own. “I did not know who he was until after he and Antonio returned with Lucia and I asked for his name.”

“Two names?” Jerome asked.

“Bringer of Storms would be his Tribal name,” she told him. “Stormcrow would be his Truename, or clan name. Known only to his family normally, he used it as a calling card when he went on the warpath against the Commonwealth. A name they truly learned to fear.”

“I should imagine,” Jerome nodded. He knew the name himself, as he made it his business to know who the galaxy's best known assassins were. “Antonia, I have always had faith and trust in your Sight, you know that,” he said after a few seconds thought. “But. . .is this truly someone we wish for our daughter to attach herself to?”

“I do not think it matters now, my husband,” Antonia replied. “Lucia seems to have 'set her cap' as your people would say. Among my people she would already be here expecting you to begin negotiations with his father or tomkah for their marriage,” she did not bother to hide her amusement, either at the situation or his discomfit over it.

“Tomkah?”

“His clan elder,” she clarified.

“I do not think I like this, Antonia,” he said finally. “ I don't deny that I like the boy, but. . .to have such a man be the one our daughter is married to? I do not know if I like that at all,” he shook his head.

“What will be, will be,” she shrugged. “And think of it this way, my husband,” she smiled slightly. “Who's side would you rather he be on?”

-

“Sounds like you guys had quite a night,” Sean settled for saying as the foursome finished relaying their story to him. “Ever find out who that guy was?”

“No,” Jessica shook her head slowly. “I've never seen him before. It's possible he mistook me for someone he knows, I really don't know.”

“We haven't heard from the authorities yet, at any rate,” Meredith told him. “I do expect to hear something from them at some point, even if it's just to tell us that he's been identified or why he felt the need to grab Jessica like that. Anything else we find out would be a bonus.”

“Can't leave you guys alone for a minute,” Sean shook his head sadly, and it took a minute for them to realize he'd made a joke.

“I. . .I don't think I've ever heard you make a joke before,” Jessica looked at him. “Not that I can recall anyway.”

“I'm always clowning around,” Sean scoffed, and that elicited a laugh from everyone at the table, since Sean never 'clowned around'.

“Well, I think I'll get changed and take a look at those injectors,” he rose. “If I can get them down today, then I can clear and clean them tomorrow while you guys are at the doctor, and then Faulks can help me reset them the day after. That will have us ready to light off whenever Lincoln is cleared by the doc. After that, it's just wrench and lube work for me. Is there anything else we need to take care of, Captain?” he asked.

“I suppose we could flush and fill the tanks while we're down for so long,” Meredith mused, thinking about what needed to be done. “Do we need to do that?” she asked him.

“Never a bad idea to dump the black water tanks no matter how low they are,” he agreed. “But we just flushed the white water maybe. . .two months ago? That should be okay for another four months, I'd say. I'll take a look to make sure, but I think topping it off should be enough. No sense spending that money when we don't have to. Of course,” he stopped himself, “it might be cheaper here than wherever we are down the line. That's something to think about. Maybe check and see what the rates are here for that, Captain? If it's a big savings and we're gonna make another long Rim circuit it would keep us from having to do it somewhere that it would really cost us.”

“Good point,” Meredith nodded. “I'll check into it today with the harbor master. I've got to let him know we're here for at least a week, anyway. Maybe now that the police want us to stay here for that week regardless we can get a rate cut,” she snorted.

“No reason not to ask,” Sean agreed. “Well, I'll be in Engineering then.” He headed aft to his room to change.

“You need me for anything Captain?” Jessica asked suddenly. “If not, I'd like to go with Sean, assuming he doesn't mind. I'd like to learn more about the engine spaces while we're on the ground.”

“So long as he doesn't mind and you stay out of his way, that's fine,” Meredith agreed.

“Thank you,” Jess smiled and followed Sean toward the aft of the ship.

“Might find a good cargo going out, too, Cap'n,” Faulks said after Jessica was gone. “Have to be careful what we take on I guess, but that's true anywhere really,” she shrugged.

“We won't turn down any work that's not a rush job,” Meredith agreed reluctantly. “We've got one large cargo coming today, don't forget.”

“But we're empty, too,” Faulks reminded her. “That today won't take more'n a quarter of the bay, and that's if we spread it out, like. We might catch another going the same way.”

“I'll see what we can find,” Meredith agreed to look, her reluctance still there. “Be nice to make some of this down time pay off,” she admitted.

“Well, in the meantime, it's a good time for a systems check,” Lincoln stood. “Might as well make use of all this free time. I suspect I won't be able to do it for a few days after tomorrow.”

“I'll lend a hand, too,” Meredith joined him. “I can use the com on the bridge to make my calls and then help you with the check.”

“Sounds good to me.”

-

“Why are we doing this again?”

Sean had not objected to Jess being in Engineering and she was watching as he worked to clear the way to the injectors so that he and Faulks could remove them. It was a major job regardless of the fact that he could accomplish it in just two days.

“Sometimes the fuel mixture runs too rich, or maybe the additives in some fuels are too heavy,” Sean explained as he set a cowling aside. “Either one can cause a build up on the injectors for the thrusters. Over time, if we don't keep them clean, it could actually clog one up completely. If that were to happen when we were entering or exiting atmo-”

“We'd be screwed,” Jess nodded, understanding. “If one of the injectors crapped out then the thrusters would fire wrong, or one might not fire at all.”

“Right,” Sean nodded, pleased that she had picked it up so quickly. “Cleaning and clearing them isn't really that hard, but getting to them is a stone bi-, er problem, so we only do it at times like this, when we're down. The alternative is to be down when we're on the clock. Better to do it now, while we're dirtside for several days. We're already idle, so this way it doesn't cost us any money.” He pulled an intake restrictor from the compartment and set it alongside the cowling, careful to lay the bolts from the piece with it.

“What's that?” Jess asked.

“Intake restrictor,” Sean told her, his head back inside the compartment already. “That's what regulates the fuel mixture and how you control how much thrust we're using. When you dial up, say, fifty percent thrusters? That restrictor will open just over half-way to give you fifty percent thrusters.”

“Why over half?” she asked.

“You lose some in the mix,” he explained. “The restrictor will actually allow one hundred and ten percent of its rated fuel flow without the safety being over ridden. You can dial that up from the cockpit without even calling me.”

“Right,” she nodded. “How far can they go when you override the safety?” she asked.

“You can run at one fifty for two-and-a-half, maybe three hours,” he told her after considering her question. “After that you have to ease off or you risk melting something, probably the thruster cowling. They really aren't designed to run in the black so continued use at that heat can damage the housing, not to mention burn the cylinders and warp the injectors completely. They'll keep running until they melt.”

“What if that were to happen?” she asked. “Melting injectors?”

“Boom,” he said simply, shrugging.

“Boom,” she repeated. “Like, the ship goes 'boom'?”

“Like the ship goes boom,” he nodded firmly. “That would dump raw fuel into the thrusters completely unrestricted. Worse, with the injectors melted, their back-flow preventer wouldn't work. The fire would follow the fuel, tracing all the way back to the cells, and there you have it. Once the fire reaches the cells, we go 'boom'.”

“Got it,” Jess nodded firmly. “Melted injectors; bad!”

“Very bad,” he agreed. “Hand me that adjustable wrench?”

-

“I'm surprised you're still here, Antonio.”

Tony looked up to see his mother joining him on the back portico, taking a seat opposite him at the table he using.

“Just thinking,” he shrugged.

“What about?” she asked.

“What to do,” he shrugged again, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I have to decide if I'm going back to the Celia or not. And if I'm not, what am I going to do? Where am I going to go?”

“You can of course stay here,” she noted dryly, but he shook his head.

“I don't think so,” he told her gently. “In just one day I was already starting to return to the way I was when I decided to leave and go to school. If I stay, I'll end up back in that same frame of mind. I would work to prevent it but sooner or later, probably when the pressure was on, I'd find myself being too much like Gram.”

She nodded her understanding. Lucius Delgado had not been an overly friendly or forgiving man. His ways had likely been responsible for what had happened to her daughter, in fact.

“So long as you know the problem, you can guard against it,” she told him. “You must be disciplined, Antonio, that's all. Dedicate yourself to being what you wish to be, not what you fear being.”

“What do you think I've been doing?” he asked her, though not unkindly. “So long as I'm away from here, I'm okay. Let me get somewhere like this, where I know what kind of power and influence I can wield, and it's like I go crazy. I did it yesterday in spades,” he admitted.

“Yesterday was certainly a special case, my son,” Antonia chided.

“Yeah, but if I justified it once, I'll do it again,” he nodded. “I know how I am, mom. If I took the old man's place, I'd have us in a war in a year. Two tops. Not because it's needful, but because I'd decide I'm Anthony-by-God-Delgado and I don't have to play fair, make a deal, or kiss your ass, and I'll prove it to you.” He stopped, aware that his voice had been rising.

“If you know your temptations, you can resist them, my son,” his mother's reply was calm and reasoned.

“Mom, it's not that I can't resist them,” Tony sighed. “It's that I don't want to.”

-

Jerome Delgado was not a happy man. Not at all. The news his wife had brought him was distressing to say the least. His daughter, enamored with an assassin? To the point that she spends the night with him? In Jerome's on house?

Jerome Delgado was not unaware of the tremendous debt he owed Sean Galen, but that did not mean that he approved of his daughter, his treasure of a little girl, being a part of the man's life. Or he a part of hers.

It had nothing to do with him personally, Jerome told himself. It was simply the fact that his daughter did not need the kind of trouble that being involved with such a man would inevitably bring. His daughter might not realize that, but he did.

And yet, his wife was sure and certain that this man was the one she had seen in her vision the day of Lucia's birth. Not to mention she had made a valid point of her own; who's side would Jerome rather the Stormcrow be on, should it come to that?

It wasn't that Jerome had need of someone like that, save in the rare event such as yesterday. He worked to keep the peace not only within his own organization, but between himself and what he considered the 'lesser' houses. The Delgado family was without doubt the most powerful individual organization in the galaxy but they did not live in a vacuum. Should the 'lower' houses combine against them, even the Delgado would be hard pressed to stand against them all. Having a man like Sean Galen's alter ego associated with the Delgado even by rumor would be enough to make most all of them, any of them, think twice before instigating difficulties.

That was not enough for Jerome to decide that his daughter should align herself with such a man however. He would not be like so many other family heads, trading his children in marriage for alliances like some baron or king of old. He had not done it to gain power or peace and he would not do it now to garner the support of an assassin.

But the man was more than a mere assassin now, wasn't he? That was part of the problem. He had rescued Lucia from certain death and a horrible one at that. It was not only natural that she feel some measure of hero like worship toward him, but a fact that Jerome himself now owed the young man a great debt. One he had no real way to repay considering the kind of debt it was.

The easiest thing would be to have Galen eliminated, but even had such a thing been something Jerome would consider, who would he send to try and kill the man that the entire Commonwealth couldn't eliminate? He snorted in rye amusement at the thought of any of the so-called 'toughs' around him trying to kill such a man. It would be like sending small children to hunt a lion.

Of course, he might just be borrowing trouble he decided, looking out his office window. There was nothing to say that Lucia's infatuation with the man would progress any further than it already had. In a few days, the man's ship would be gone and it was unlikely to visit here again any time soon, if ever. Antonio had admitted that he had manipulated things to get them here the first time so that the pilot could see a doctor. If the ship, the Celia, remained on the fringe as it had since Antonio had joined it then they might never set down on San Lucia ever again.

Problem solved.

But it wouldn't be that easy, he knew. His daughter was headstrong and stubborn to a fault. While the events of yesterday might make her more cautious in the future, she was too much like her mother to be cowed for long. Not that Jerome had any reason to regret her mother's stubbornness as it was one of the reasons he had to thank for her being his wife.

He stared out his window for a long time, mulling over these and other things. It was not until the butler came to announce dinner that he stirred from it.

He was no closer to an answer than he had been when he began.

-

“Nervous?” Meredith asked as she and Lincoln prepared to make their way to the doctor's office for his surgery.

“No, not at all,” Lincoln snorted, waving away her comment. She could tell he was bothered though.

“Linc, it will be okay,” she soothed carefully.

“Course it will,” he nodded absently as he adjusted his collar. “He's supposed to be the best doctor at this sort of thing anywhere. No sweat. He does this kind of thing all the time, right?”

“Right,” Meredith fought down a small smile at Linc's attempt to convince himself by convincing her that everything would be fine.

Dressed and ready, the two exited their cabin and ventured to the galley where Faulks was waiting. Jessica had offered to prepare breakfast, but Linc wasn't allowed to eat before surgery and Meredith wouldn't eat until he could. Faulks had made do with cereal and fruit that had been bought fresh in the local market and was now dressed and ready herself.

“We'll be back when we get back I guess,” Meredith informed Jessica. “Please keep a com unit handy in case we need your assistance,” she added.

“Will do,” Jess promised, then looked at Linc.

“Cheer up old timer!” she grinned. “Once this is over you might be almost as good a pilot as I am!”

“You youngsters think you know so much,” Linc mock sneered, then gave the girl a brief hug of thanks for trying to cheer him up. “Thanks kid.”

“You're welcome,” she smiled up at him. “I'm sure you'll be good to go in no time.”

“Sure,” he nodded.

With that the three of them set out. It was a half-hour walk to the office but spacers as a rule preferred to walk when dirt-side. Probably because they didn't get to see much real estate in the course of their jobs, or maybe because of the relatively fresh air. Either way the three of them made good time while enjoying the freedom of comparatively wide open spaces.

Once they arrived, it was only a brief wait before Lincoln was called back. Meredith was allowed to accompany him to a smaller waiting room, where Lincoln left her to be prepared for his surgery. While he was going through that, Meredith was briefed by a nurse on the aftercare that Lincoln would require once his surgery was over.

Faulks opened a reader she had brought with her and began to read, waiting for her Captain and Pilot to return.

-

Back on the ship Jessica prepared breakfast for her and Sean, wondering where Tony was.

“Times like this I miss Tony more than ever,” she told the engineer as she put the simple fare she had prepared on the table.

“This is just fine,” he told her, nodding his appreciation. “You're a good cook, Jess.”

“Aw, I'm sure you say that to all the girls,” she blushed slightly as she joked. “I appreciate it, but I'm not a chef.”

“You're no slouch either,” he shrugged. “I'll take your cooking over mine any day.”

“I wonder where Tony is?” Jess mused aloud between bites.

“I'm sure he's into something,” Sean said carefully. “He'll probably show up as soon as the real work's done,” he added, trying to sound mirthful but failing.

“Something happened between you two, didn't it?” Jess said plainly and Sean looked at her.

“What makes you say that?” he asked calmly.

“Just a feeling,” she shrugged. “You're jumpy and he's not here and hasn't been for two days.”

“I'm not jumpy,” Sean protested mildly.

“Wrong word,” she agreed. “More like antsy. Not worried but still chewing on something that happened. That kind of thing.”

Sean pondered that as he ate, realizing that the girl was closer to the mark than she probably realized.

“Do you think that will keep him from coming back?” Jess asked him a minute later.

“What?”

“Do you think that the two of you having trouble will keep Tony from coming back?” she asked again. “I'd hate to think we had to rely on our own cooking,” she added dryly and not really joking.

“I'm sure he'll be back if it suits him,” Sean was non-committal. “I think he's got his com with him if you want to give him a call,” he added after a minute.

“Why don't you call him?” she asked.

“Got nothin' to say to him, or ask him,” Sean shrugged. “He'll be back or he won't. His decision either way. Not my business.”

“I thought you two were friends,” she raised an eyebrow at that.

“We just work together,” Sean shrugged again. “He'll do what he pleases, when he pleases. That much you can count on.”

-

“Can I take any hope from your still being here that you may stay?” Jerome asked Tony over breakfast that morning.

“I don't know,” he admitted. “I don't think so, but I'm still working on it. It's not that I don't want to be here with you guys, but. . .if I stay, I'll fall into the same rut that I was in when I left. I'd rather not be that guy if I can help it.”

“I understand,” his father nodded. “Still, if you know what your weaknesses are, you can work to keep them at bay. We can help you do this,” he reminded his son.

“For a while,” Tony nodded slowly. “But sooner or later it would happen. And I kinda like what I'm doing to be honest,” he admitted. “I get to travel a lot and see a lot of different places. I'm running with a good group, too.”

“You have good friends,” Jerome nodded. “Will Galen be visiting us again before your ship departs?”

“I doubt it,” Tony said carefully. “He's not really that sociable,” he added, careful not to look at his sister when he spoke. He heard her huff in annoyance anyway, but chose to pretend he hadn't.

“I understand he has led a difficult life,” his father nodded. “That can make one unsociable I'm sure.”

“He has had a tough road,” Tony nodded absently, thinking back to Sean's story. “Anyway, I guess I need to at least visit the ship and see if I still have a job after all this. And I want to check on Lincoln,” he added. “I'm hoping this will help him. He's a good guy.”

“Do they need assistance with paying for his treatment?”

“I don't think so, and it would be hard to get them to take it even if they did,” Tony shook his head slowly. “They both retired from the Commonwealth Navy and draw a pension. They probably have insurance that will cover his treatment, whatever it is. If not then if they need it I'll see that it's covered. Maybe scrounge up a good cargo heading out when they're ready to leave.”

“You guys carry passengers too, or just cargo?” Lucia asked. “I never thought to even ask how big the ship was,” she added thoughtfully.

“We can carry a few passengers but we don't make a habit of it,” Tony said, so eager for a change in subject away from Galen that he didn't think about his sister's question. “Mostly it's cargo though. We picked up a line on a new contract last time out that may become a regular thing for us, I don't know. I'd miss going from place to place, but a regular run would make it easier to plan things and make for more steady pay I guess,” he shrugged.

“Nice,” Lucia feigned disinterest, and again Tony was so intent on changing the subject that he didn't catch it.

“Will you be having dinner with us?” his mother spoke for the first time since sitting down. “It would be nice if you could visit with us while you are here. We'll be dining late I should imagine.”

“I'll be back for dinner, even if I have to quit,” he promised. “Might be the best thing for me anyway.”

His parents exchanged covert glances at that but said nothing. Before anyone else could speak, Marisa came to Antonia's chair.

“Pardon, Dona, but the police detective from yesterday has returned. He is in the foyer at present and insists he must see the two of you,” she looked at Jerome.

“What now?” Jerome grumbled as he got to his feet. “That was supposed to be taken care of.” He extended a hand to his wife and the two walked together to find the officious looking police detective lieutenant waiting for them.

“Detective,” Jerome's voice was cold and formal. “What brings you here?”

“I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, sir. Ma'am,” the detective didn't sound a bit sorry. “Your son, Roberto, was found murdered this morning in a small hotel near the Port Authority. While we don't know at the moment exactly what happened, we did recover a weapon at the scene that matches one of the weapons used in the kidnapping of your daughter two days ago. I'm afraid it's possible that the same people who committed that act may well be responsible for his death,” he reported without a trace of real remorse.

Antonia looked stricken and made her way to a small couch along the hallway wall, Jerome assisting her as she sat down heavily on the small sofa.

“Are you all right?” he asked gently. She nodded without speaking, burying her head in her hands. Jerome sat with her for a minute before rejoining the detective.

“If you manage to discover who was responsible for this I would appreciate very much knowing who it was,” he said formally, his face and voice revealing the strain he was under.

“We'll handle this, Mister Delgado,” the detective took relish in saying.

“I'm sure you will,” Jerome nodded absently, appearing to be in shock. “I would simply like to know why this was done. All of it. While our family has in the past been associated with many problems, this has not been true for the last two generations. I can only imagine that this is, or was, an attempt to extort money from us. Either that or some kind of very old vendetta. Such a thing would have to date back to my grandfather perhaps, however. I do not understand what anyone would hope to gain by this.”

Taken aback by the older man's reaction the detective nodded.

“I'll forward whatever we learn to you,” he agreed in what he would later describe as a moment of weakness. “I'm sorry for your loss,” he added, sounding as if he meant it this time.

“Thank you,” Jerome nodded. “And thank you for coming in person to notify us.”

“Sir,” the man nodded curtly and then allowed the butler to show him out. Once he was gone, Jerome counted to ten before looking to his wife.

“So,” he said simply.

“Indeed,” she nodded, seemingly recovered from her 'shock'. Jerome extended his arm to her and the two returned to finish breakfast with two of their three remaining children.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

-

“What did the cop want?” Tony asked as his parents returned to the dining room.

“I'm afraid we have had bad news,” Jerome said solemnly for Lucia's benefit. She alone was not aware of Roberto's part in her kidnapping ordeal. “Roberto left the mansion two nights ago and has not been heard from since. The police located his body this morning in a small hotel near the Port. He had been murdered.” He said it softly but didn't try otherwise to lessen the blow. There was no point.

“How did he die?” Lucia asked, far too calmly.

“The police did not share that information as they are not yet certain what happened,” Antonia replied softly. “They will let us know as they find out more.”

“Was it because of me?” Lucia asked carefully.

“I do not believe so,” Jerome told her. “In fact, what happened to you may more likely be blamed upon him,” he sighed, sitting down heavily. “I have labored for some time, years in fact, to rid this family of certain practices that I found. . .distasteful. Your brother took it upon himself to involve us in those practices once more behind my back. It is likely that all of this business, including your ordeal, are linked to his dirty dealings.”

“What?” Lucia looked stricken. “You mean. . .I mean Elena was killed. . .all those others too. . .” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. Her face showed first her shock, then betrayal and finally anger. Almost rage in fact.

“Are you certain of this, Poppa?” she asked calmly, her voice icy.

“I'm afraid so, my child,” Jerome nodded. “I have a good bit of evidence of his dealings. Discovered since he left the mansion two nights ago. Before you were found, in fact,” he added.

“That low life son-of-a-”

“Lucia!” Jerome's sharp voice cracked across the table. “You will not invoke your mother's name nor our marital status at the time he was conceived in cursing him for his stupidity or his role in your ordeal!” he ordered. For a moment, no one at the table spoke or even moved.

Antonia was the first to chuckle slightly at the way Jerome had worded his demanded. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried to catch herself, but the sound had already escaped. Across from her Lucia actually smiled, then giggled, her own hand mimicking her mother's as she tried to cover it up.

Tony laughed outright though subdued and finally Jerome chuckled heavily, unable to prevent it. Soon all four were laughing aloud, the first time any of them had done so in the last forty-eight hours.

Lucia now knew that her brother was responsible for what happened to her, thought not to what extent. It was enough for now and when things had settled down her parents would tell her the rest. The fact that Elena's death was not on her shoulders was enough to ease her conflict for now and her parents would let her enjoy that time before giving her the rest of the details.

Jerome wondered if knowing that Galen had been the one to kill Roberto in retaliation for what he had done would be enough to turn Lucia away from pursing him, or if it would merely endear the assassin to her even more.

With his daughter, much like her mother, there was never any way to know for sure.

-

“I need a favor, mamma.”

“Never have those words ended well, my daughter,” Antonia's eyebrows rose as she examined Lucia.

They were in Antonia's office, their meal long behind them. While the house was officially in a state of mourning for Roberto's demise, there was very little actual mourning occurring at the moment. Or at all for that matter.

“It's not that kind of favor,” Lucia rolled her eyes, taking a seat before her mother's desk. “Well, maybe it is,” she semi-conceded.

“And what would this favor entail?” her mother asked warily.

Lucia briefly explained what she needed.

“And why would I do this?” Antonia wondered. “When we have our own-”

“I need it to be this way,” Lucia shook her head. “And it's not that big a deal, is it?” she tilted her head as she looked at her mother.

“What are you up to Lucia?” Antonia asked outright.

“Well. . . .”

-

Meredith looked up when Doctor Bernard came back into the small waiting area. The smile on his face eased her dread a bit but only a bit.

“Everything went fine,” he said at once, taking a seat next to her. “The cataract was small and rather than replace the lens, something we don't like to do at his age, we were able to simple polish it away. His eye will be irritated for a week to ten days probably, give or take. He'll need to wear a patch over his eye for six days and I'll give you drops for his eye that need to be administered three times daily. There will also be a small tube of ointment I want you to try and apply the first three nights, starting tonight, to keep the area hydrated. I'll want to see him back in ten days to examine how well he's healing. Assuming everything is normal, I'll brief your ship's medic on how to treat him and what signs to look for if there's a problem and you should be able to ship out then. He can always com me if there's a question.”

“Will he need to return for any follow-ups past the ten-day checkup?” Meredith asked.

“Probably not,” Bernard shook his head. “If he does, I'll know it then and be able to tell. It's possible that we'll need to see him again in a week, assuming that he hasn't healed well or some other problem develops with his vision, but I really don't expect that. This is a fairly routine surgery and he came through it just fine. All we have to do now is get him through the recovery and he should be good as new.”

“Thank you, Doctor Bernard,” Meredith smiled. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem, it's what I do,” he smiled. “Now, you can find him in room three. He should be ready to go by the time you get there. My nurse will show you the way.”

Following the younger woman to the designated room, Meredith found Lincoln listening to another nurse fill him in on his treatment. She looked at Meredith.

“Did Doctor Bernard fill you in on his treatment schedule?” she asked.

“Drops three times daily and ointment at night for three nights and later as needed to hydrate his eyes,” Meredith nodded. “Followup in ten days for an exam.”

“Keep wearing the patch until then,” the nurse nodded. “Sign here, please,” she indicated the area on her pad for Meredith to sign. She scrawled her name with the stylus, receiving an electronic transfer of the orders to her own pad seconds later.

“And you're all set!” the nurse smiled. “We'll see you in ten days Mister Simmons.”

“Okay,” Lincoln nodded, his demeanor somewhat more subdued than normal. Meredith guided him to the waiting room where Faulks jumped to her feet, stowing her reader and taking his other side.

“Back to the ship?” she asked Meredith.

“Yes,” Meredith nodded.

“Let's get something to eat first,” Lincoln protested. “Remember I didn't eat last night.”

“All right,” Meredith was reluctant but agreed. Soon enough the three of them were seated indoors at a small cafe. Any other time they would have sat outside, but Lincoln was still light sensitive.

“You know they keep you awake for it,” he said suddenly, drawing the two women's attention.

“What?”

“For the surgery,” Lincoln told her. “They don't put you to sleep. You have to stay awake and keep your eyes open while they work on your eye. It's more than a little creepy,” he admitted.

“I don't think I could deal with that,” Faulks admitted after a minute. “I probably couldn't do it.”

“I'd have said the same thing,” he shrugged. “Had to though. Only way to get it done.”

“Well, it's done now,” Meredith tried to make him see the up side. “All we have to do now is see him again in ten days and you should be good to go. Then we'll be back in space where we belong,” she added firmly.

Where you belong, Lincoln thought but didn't dare say aloud. He enjoyed their work, but Meredith's overwhelming need to be in space instead of on the ground sometimes wore on him a little.

They made small talk until their food arrived, after which Linc was too busy eating to talk.

-

“Yes?” Tony answered his com unit, assuming it would be the Captain and preparing to tell her some kind of lie to cover himself.

“Hey!” Jessica's voice surprised him. “Listen, we lost our cook and medic and we wondering if you'd seen him? Tall guy, dark hair, preppy dresser, smiles a lot? Hard to miss even in a crowd.”

“I'm not a preppy dresser!” Tony shot back.

“Oh, hey Tony!” Jessica feigned surprise. “I thought I had called the Port Police. Was going to file a Missing Persons Report.”

“Oh, aren't you just the funny one!” Tony shot back.

“Seriously, Linc went for his surgery this morning,” Jessica turned to business. “We're expecting them back soon and wondered if you were going to come by. Or if you were coming back at all to be honest,” she hinted. “Are you?”

Tony hesitated for a few seconds, unwilling for some reason to lie to the girl. Damn it why couldn't he lie to her? He could lie to anyone else!

“I'll be there in a bit,” he told her finally. “I was about to head that way in a few minutes anyway,” he almost lied. “Just had a few last things to finish up with. Sean make it back?”

“Yeah, he's here. He's in engineering right now working on the injectors. Wanna talk to him?” she asked. “I can carry the com down to him,” she offered. “Won't take a minute.”

“No, he's busy sounds like. I'll catch him at the ship. I'll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Okay!” Tony cut the call and took a deep breath, then went to tell his family that he'd be back for supper.

Probably.

-

“How'd it go!” Jess asked as soon as the trio cleared the lock.

“Fine. I'm a pirate now,” Linc deadpanned, pointing to his eye patch.

“And a dashing old pirate you are, too,” Jess smiled, hugging him. “Seriously, how did it go?” she asked Meredith.

“It went well,” Meredith smiled at Jessica's antics. “He should be good to go in about ten days if no complications develop. Assuming they don't then we can head out after that. But we're definitely grounded for the next ten to twelve days.”

“Well, I've got the injectors ready to put back but we can leave that til tomorrow,” Sean shrugged. “I'd say we have to celebrate this somehow,” he added, smiling.

“If only we had a cook,” Jessica sighed. Before anyone could answer the alarm from the air lock buzzed again and Tony Giannini entered the bay. He smiled as he saw Lincoln's eye patch.

“Ahoy, matey!” he called, walking over and wrapping an arm around the pilot's shoulder. “I'm assuming it went well? Gotta wear the patch about a week or so, right? Then back for a check up? After than you'll be released if it's all good?”

“Did you talk to the doctor?” Meredith asked/demanded. “And where the hell have you been?”

“No, I read up on it,” Tony said truthfully. “If something goes wrong I'd be the one who has to care for him after all. And I had some family issues come up I had to deal with. Spent a lot of time talking,” he hinted that he'd been doing his 'business' over the com without saying so. “I think things are okay now, at least for the moment. I hope it stays that way,” he said honestly. “So, I need to prepare some kind of magnificent feast in celebration of good news or what?” he grinned at Linc.

“I'm game for that,” the pilot nodded.

“And you owe me a goulash,” Faulks pointed out with good humor.

“So I do, so I do,” Tony agreed at once. “And yeast rolls,” he remembered. “I'll make it for you tomorrow. All yours, I'll make something else for the rest and you can store the left overs to have when you want. Sound like a deal?”

“More than,” Faulks agreed, happy as a clam.

“All right then. Linc, tell me what you want and I'll get started on supper. Since we're in port, it'll be easy to get pretty much anything you want, so name it and it's done!”

Sean Galen didn't hear the rest as he departed quietly, headed back to engineering. He had other work to do in preparation for returning the injectors to battery the next day.

And he really didn't want to talk to Tony Giannini/Delgado right now.

-

Tony delivered on his promise of a celebratory feast, featuring fresh ingredients from the merchants around the port. Everyone gathered around the table as Tony loaded it down with food and soon the crew was eating heartily, celebrating the first really good news they had enjoyed in some time.

Sean had already congratulated Lincoln of course and was quick to do so again as he raised a cup for Tony's toast to a successful surgery, but otherwise he ate quietly and then excused himself, headed back to engineering. He wanted to finish up his work so that all he and Faulks would have to do the next day was replace and align the injectors. With Jessica's help in the cockpit that work would take only a few hours. With that done he would content himself with odd jobs of maintenance and cleaning until it was time to head back out.

He was still fuming at Tony's accusations despite trying to get over it. Lucia was his sister after all, and he had every right to be concerned about her. Sean himself had told the girl that he wasn't a good choice of company, hadn't he?

And yet the anger still simmered. Tony's accusations about him and Lucia weren't the cause of that, he realized. It was the flat declaration that Sean was lying that had infuriated him so. The implication being that Sean would dishonor the home of his host in such a way, then lie about it.

In the culture he had been raised in such behavior was enough to have you cast out of their society completely. You simply didn't do it. The virtue of a woman was hers to do with as she pleased once she was of age, but a woman who cast her virtue away was always looked down upon.

Likewise, a young man who took that virtue would be looked at in the same way. If he would do something like that now, then he would do it again after being joined in marriage. No family would consent to have a daughter married to such a man.

Crimes like rape were virtually unknown among Sean's people. The penalty for such a crime was far in extreme of anything you would find anywhere else and that tended to make even the most foolhardy young man think twice before committing such an act. On the reverse side, false accusations were dealt with just as harshly. If a woman's charge of a sexual crime was found to be false, then she would suffer the penalty that she had tried to have imposed upon the man.

Many might consider all this far too stringent in polite society but the fact was that such harsh penalties kept those same acts, and accusations, far lower than the galaxy at large.

This was at the core of Sean's seething anger at his erstwhile 'friend'. He knew that Tony had no idea how badly he'd insulted him and tried to use that to calm himself, but it wasn't working very well. The least the man could have done was extended Sean the benefit of the doubt given all that Sean had done with and for Tony the day before.

“So are you going to tell me what's eating you or not?” Jessica's voice broke him from his circular thinking. He turned to see her leaning on the hatchway, arms crossed beneath her breasts.

“Eating me?” he tried, knowing it was doomed to fail.

“You've been in a funk of one kind or another since you got back,” Jessica said flatly. “You and Tony haven't spoken five words to each other and now he's left the ship again without even saying good-bye to you. You two were together off ship when we first got here and now you can't seem to stand one another. So yeah, I think eating at you is a good description.”

“Of course it's probably not any of my business to begin with, and you can feel free to say so with no hard feelings. I'm just hoping I can help,” she told him. “I'd like the old Sean back, at least for a while,” she added with a soft smile.

“The old Sean,” he repeated, mulling that over. “I'm not sure I know who that is,” he admitted suddenly, with no idea why.

“Oh?” Jessica raised a fine eyebrow.

“I've pretended a lot over the years, hiding. Trying to fit in,” he sighed, taking a break. Once again he found himself talking to Jessica without knowing why. It bothered him and yet he still did it.

“I don't know that there is an old or 'real' me, honestly,” he shrugged. “There's just whoever I'm pretending to be at the moment, I guess.”

“Are you pretending now?” Jessica asked.

“I don't really know,” he was honest. “I can't seem to separate one from another any more. I made up this personality to hide from my enemies and for a while I thought it was my real personality. I think we all saw a few months back that wasn't the case,” he said wryly, referring not only to his run-in with Faulks, but also with the erstwhile kidnappers and hijackers who had injured Lincoln.

“Well, those were extreme cases,” she reminded him.

“True, but they still exposed the 'real' me, or at least as much of me that's real as I know of,” he sighed again, this time sadly. “I'm getting to the point where I'm confused about who I am, I think.” Why in the hell would he tell her that?

“You're Sean Galen,” Jessica said at once. “That's exactly who you are.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?” Sean asked her. “What does it mean to be Sean Galen? Who is he? What is he?”

“He's a really good guy who has had a really hard time,” her voice was gentle. “Yeah, he's a little rough around the edges, sure. But he's loyal, he's intelligent, and he's straight as an arrow honest. Any of those three qualities are enough to make a man sought after and respected Sean. All three of them together? I'm shocked some girl hasn't snatched you up and made an honest man of you,” she grinned.

“No woman needs a man like me,” he told her flatly, thinking back to Lucia Delgado. “I'm nothing but trouble, Jessica. No matter how good a guy you think I am, I'm still nothing but trouble. No matter what I do or where I end up, I'm going to be a trouble magnet, especially anywhere near the Commonwealth.”

“It won't be that way forever, Sean,” she tried to encourage him.

“It will be for long enough that I'll be old and gray before it stops,” Sean snorted. “Anyway, nothing's eating me at the moment. I'm just working now so I don't have to work later.”

“Sure,” Jessica nodded, her voice indicating she didn't believe a word of it. “Well, if you need any help let me know, okay?”

“Will do.”

-

“Are you still mad at me?” Tony asked his sister. He was standing in the door to her suite, leaning on the door frame.

“Yes,” she replied at once, though without heat. “I asked you to stay out of my business and you didn't. You might have ruined things for me before they even got off the ground. Thanks for that by the way,” she added, this time more acidic.

“Look, Luce,” Tony straightened. “Sean is not the kind of guy-”

“If you finish that I will be mad,” Lucia told him flatly. “I mean really mad. I already told you I'd find out what kind of guy he is or isn't on my own. I don't want your opinion of him, I want my own.”

“Lucy, Sean is-”

“One more word, brother, and we are done,” her voice was flat. Final. “I'm not playing. If you can't even respect me this little bit, then there's no real reason for me to continue treating you like my brother. I'll just start treating you like you usually do others. Try me,” she added when he started to object.

“Don't say I didn't try to warn you,” he settled for saying finally. “Good night,” he added, walking away angrily. She watched him go before closing her door and locking it.

She had work to do.

-

Antonia sat back in her chair, having made the arrangements that her daughter had requested. The mother in her felt a tendril of unease still at what he daughter was planning, and yet the woman in her that had left her entire way of life behind for a man she wanted admired her Lucia for her strong will. She would not be denied and was not above using a bit of  to get her way.

Her father would have a fit of course, but Antonia was sure she could handle that. He would have to accept sooner or later that Lucia was grown. While she would always be their little girl, she was not in fact a little girl anymore. Jerome would have to learn to treat her as a grown woman. Antonia had made some security arrangements for this plan of her daughter's in any case that should ensure her safety as she carried out her bit of subterfuge.

She smiled slightly as she imagined a future where Lucia really did get Sean Galen to settle down. Seeing Jerome with a son-in-law he could in no way buffalo or dominate would be worth whatever trouble helping her daughter caused her.

And making up was always fun, too.

-

Tony was back in time to make breakfast the next morning and stayed with the ship afterward, checking on Linc during the day and applying his drops for him, as he had the ointment the previous evening before departing the ship.

“Looks good,” he told the pilot. “I'm not the surgeon of course, but I don't see any swelling and not much irritation or redness. Can you see at all?”

“It's a little blurry still, but yeah,” Linc nodded. “Honestly, I think I can already tell a difference. But then I don't know if that's cause I want to so badly, or because there really is one,” he admitted.

“That's just natural,” Tony assured him. “I'll do this again after lunch.”

“Are you going to leave us, Tony?” Linc asked as he stood.

“What makes you ask that?” Tony asked.

“You've been gone a lot, and you didn't make any secret about how excited you were to be here,” Linc shrugged. “Just curious. If you are I don't and won't hold it against you,” he promised. “I'm just wondering.”

“I'm not planning on it,” Tony said, more or less honestly. “I can't promise that if the right thing, or the right girl,” he grinned, “came along that I wouldn't, but at the moment I'm not planning on it.”

“I'm glad,” Linc replied. “We'd miss more than your cooking around here.” With that Linc departed, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts.

He had to go talk to Sean sooner or later. He'd put it off this long hoping that Sean would come to him, but that apparently wasn't going to happen. He had hoped to have some semblance of high ground when dealing with the assassin, since that was about all he could hope for.

He knew he'd pissed Sean off in a major way, just not exactly how he'd done it other than it was something he'd said the morning he'd seen Lucia coming out of Sean's room. He had more or less called Sean a liar, he remembered. A man with Sean's background might take that a lot harder than the people Tony was accustomed to dealing with.

And then there was still the issue of his sister. No matter how good a friend he considered Sean Galen, seeing the man hook up with his baby sister was just not something he was willing to deal with. Sean's hands were covered in blood, literally, and Lucia didn't need that in her life. For that matter, she was still unaware that Sean was the one who had killed Roberto. He wondered how she would react to that. Was it worth the risk to tell her himself? Risk her wrath or that of his parents to get her to drop this infatuation she had with the former assassin?

That would be a pretty sorry thing to do he admitted to himself a minute later. And it might get his mother in a world of trouble if word got out. No, better to let that cat stay in the bag, he decided. He'd have to find some other way to turn her attention away from Sean.

But he still needed a way to fix things between him and the engineer. Especially if he was planning to stay.

-

He found Sean in engineering, he and Faulks wrestling the last of the injectors back into place while Jess worked the attitude adjustments from the cockpit ensuring that everything was aligned properly.

“One more time like that, Jess,” Sean was saying, his eyes on the intake before him. The engineer's eyes followed something Tony couldn't see as Jess did whatever it was she was doing up front.

“That's it, Jess,” Sean called over the wireless. “We're good to go looks like. Thanks for your help.”

“You're welcome,” her voice came through the speaker a bit tinny but clear. “I'm shutting the system back down now.”

“Okay, we're done here all but the cowling.” He set the radio aside, looking at Faulks.

“Thanks for the help,” he told her kindly. “I could maybe do it alone, but it would be a real bitch to do.”

“No problem,” Faulks assured him. “Gotta earn my pay some way or another,” she shrugged. “Need help with that?” she asked. Sean looked toward the hatch to see Tony standing there and frowned slightly before he could catch it.

“Nah,” he shook his head after a few seconds. “I can get it. It's not nearly the problem that the rest is. Besides, I need to clean up here first and there's no point in you having to hang around for that. If I do need help I'll shout.”

“Fair enough,” Faulks nodded and departed, leaving the two men some privacy.

“What do you want?” Sean asked neutrally. “I'm busy.”

“I can see that,” Tony managed to bite off his usual sarcasm at the last second. “I just wanted to talk for a minute. I know I pissed you off, but I'm not sure exactly how. I'm guessing that it was because I questioned your story about Lucia being in your room at the mansion. Right?”

“Yes,” Sean's voice was flat. “Not that it matters. Like I said then; your house, your rules. That it?”

“Sean, man, don't be like that,” Tony tried again, using his 'like me' tone of voice and trying to strike a reasonable pose. “I said I was sorry, and I meant it. Seeing my sister coming out of your room like that just wasn't something I was prepared to see. Gimme a break here.”

“I did give you one,” Sean turned his back on him, grabbing the cowling and wrestling it into place in a surprising show of strength. “I didn't kill you.”

“Now see?” Tony leaped on that comment. “That right there is a prime reason I don't want you around my sister! She doesn't need that kind of thing!”

“You're joking, right?” Sean scoffed. “Look at you, man. How easy did you torture and kill a man to get what you wanted?”

“That was different!” Tony defended himself. “He knew where my sister was!”

“And every man or woman I ever did that too knew who killed my entire family,” Sean's voice was flat and cold. “You're a hypocrite, Tony. You don't want your sister around me? What about you? What about that piss ant brother of yours, selling out his own family like that? Seems to me she'd be better off around me than him. Or maybe even you,” he turned back to look at his 'friend'.

“At least I let her make her own decisions,” he finished. “What do you do? Judge and second guess every decision she makes, no matter what it is? How has she managed without you all these years you've been gone I wonder? Without you there to tell her what to do and who she can spend time with?”

Tony hadn't replied as yet, still stinging from the reminder of how Sean came to be as he was. It wasn't right for him to question that really, especially after what he'd done the day Lucia had been taken. Tony hadn't been a sterling role model before he'd left the planet to study medicine, either.

“I said I was sorry,” Tony repeated. “And you're right. I'm not any better. That's why I don't stay here,” he pointed out. “I know that if I do, I'll be just like that all the time. I was before. So, I keep on the move and I don't try to depend on my family's influence except when I need it like we did on Hartley Station. And to get the Celia into Porto San Lucia so Lincoln could see the doctor,” he admitted.

“Well, you're just a prince of a guy, aren't you,” Sean's sarcasm was a bit of a surprise, coming as it did from someone who never used it. “Look, I don't know why you care anyway. I'll never likely see your sister again. I told her I'm not the kind of guy she needs to be around and I told your mother the same thing. She'll figure that out in time and be better off for it. She's smart enough to know it once she finds out who and what I am. So you got nothing to worry about and never did. You basically called me a liar and questioned my honor for nothing.” He almost spat the word out. Tony was starting to see that Sean was really and truly angry, not just pissed off.

“Look, the way I grew up, around here with everything like it is, it's not a big deal to say what I said,” Tony tried to explain. “It's just something we say, especially when we're questioning what we're being told. Don't take it so personal.”

“Where I grew up,” Sean replied calmly, “questioning the honor of someone like that is reason enough to kill the questioner. That's pretty personal. Where I grew up,” he grunted as he swung the back of the cowling into place, “a man doesn't take the virtue of a woman he isn't married to. If he does, he won't ever take the virtue of another woman, you can be sure. And where I. . .grew up,” he finished moving the cowling into place with a final grunt of exertion, “you don't dishonor the home of someone else by taking the virtue of a daughter, or a sister or any other female, including the servants.” He started threading bolts into place.

“Well, around here no one pays any attention to that,” Tony shot back.

“And look what a fine society it is, too,” Sean nodded as if Tony had made his point for him. “Like I said, you got nothing to worry about. She'll never see me again unless we happen to come back here and she knows we're on the ground. Because I'll damn sure never set foot in your house again, you can be sure of that. Now do you want anything else or are we done here?” he demanded, still threading bolts into the frame, one after the other.

“Sean, don't let something I said ruin a good friendship,” Tony almost pleaded.

“I've been a friend to you, Tony.” Sean's voice was almost a whisper. “Something I don't do, to be honest. I don't do 'friends'. I went with you to find your sister. Killed a man and tortured another to do it. Then I took care of another problem for your mother. One she had to have done and couldn't do herself. And despite all that, the first thing you think to do is assume that I'm such a bastard that I'd take your sister's virginity under her parent's roof, in a bed they provided for me as a guest. The second thing you can think to do is assume I'm lying when I tell you nothing happened between us other than her talking a lot after she woke up.” Having placed the last bolt where it belonged and started it, he reached for a wrench and began to tighten them down.

“Living in this cesspool, with a family where a brother is willing to sacrifice his sister and her closest friend in order to make some kind of pathetic power play, you want to talk to me about inappropriate. About how bad I am, and how bad it is for your sister to be anywhere near me. You need to get the log out of your own eye before you start talking about the speck in mine.”

“I already said I-, wait a minute,” Tony cut himself off. “How do you know my sister's a virgin!”

“She wasn't interested in having sex, but she wasn't above trying to pretend to seduce me to get me to stay around,” Sean replied. “She wanted to be enticing and seductive, but she's not very good at it which means she'd never done it before. She's also honest and straightforward, which I'm sure she learned from a book or something since she damn sure didn't learn it around here,” his tone was withering. “She flat out said she hadn't come to me wanting anything other than a place to sleep where she felt safe, but then the next morning tried every way in the world except offering herself to me physically to keep me here. That's how I know she's a virgin, Tony. And good for her, too,” he added firmly. “This place hasn't gotten to her. At least not yet.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tony demanded.

“It means she's still got values and morals despite being raised in a place that is decidedly lacking in those areas,” Sean was blunt in his response. “Now do you want anything else? I still got work to do.”

“Sean, we need to work this out, man,” Tony urged. “We can't work together if we're enemies.”

“We aren't enemies,” came the immediate reply. “If you were my enemy you'd be dead. We can work together just fine I imagine.”

“Then what do you call this if we're not enemies?” Tony wanted to know.

“I call this fixing a mistake I made in ever believing you were my friend,” the reply cut him to the bone. “We aren't enemies, we aren't friends, we aren't anything except shipmates. We ship together, we work together. We can do that and not be friends. I've done it here, I've done it elsewhere. It's not as hard as it sounds.”

It was the matter-of-fact way Sean said it that hit Tony the hardest. He had let his mouth run away with him in the heat of the moment and it had cost him a good friend. Possibly the best friend he could ever have had.

“Sean, come on,” he tried one more time. “Just let me have this one, okay? Accept my apology and write this off to me being an ass.”

“I already have,” came the reply, muffled slightly as Sean was behind part of the cowling at this point, having never stopped tightening bolts. “I wrote the whole thing off, including you. Now seriously, if you don't have something you need the engineer to do, I'm busy.” His voice was growing hoarse as he talked more in past few minutes than he normally would in a day or more.

“All right,” Tony raised his hands in supplication. “I really am sorry,” he added over his shoulder as he headed up the passageway.

“So am I,” Sean said to himself, soft enough that Tony would never hear it. “So am I.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

-

The next three days were pretty much repeats of the same. Lincoln was making good progress getting around with his eye patch and was helping with various system checks as the crew used the down time to make sure the Celia was in top shape. She was clean as whistle from bow to stern and Sean had cleaned the exhaust ports on the thrusters, then the engines, then repainted them with the extreme heat paint that such things required. Faulks had scrubbed the cargo bay until it gleamed and then moved on to the passageways and the guest cabins. Jessica helped in each turn once she had completed a complete systems check of the bridge systems and then cleaned the bridge until in shone. The ship smelled of disinfectant and cleaner but it was a good smell.

By day six of Lincoln's wait to see the doctor, the ship was in as good a shape as it had ever been. Nothing was lacking or needing with all supplies and tanks topped off and ready.

“I don't see why we can't have some shore leave,” Meredith surprised them all on the evening of that sixth day. “There's not really anything we can do at this point. Everything we can do is done until we light off. I don't even see the need for a watch since the port here has excellent security. We've pulled the engine mains so it's not like anyone can steal the ship. We can lock her down and head into town. We've got two days and wake-up before Lincoln can see the doctor. Assuming he clears us to leave, we'll need to start turning over right away because I just got another cargo today and it's time sensitive. Not enough that we can't wait to see the doctor but we've got to be in the black as soon as possible after that. We're headed back out on the rim with this one but it's a big payday that will more than make up for the down time, assuming we get it there on time. We're looking at a forty percent bonus for rush delivery. We'll drop our other cargo on the way back in to Halcyon.”

“Where are we going?” Jessica asked.

“Back to Elvy,” Meredith announced with a grin. “And I've already put a call in to the harbor master there and he will have us a full cargo waiting for the run back. All of it going to Halcyon, so we can't ask for much better than that. Assuming we make that run without difficulty, we could be looking at a regular run between those two. We'll still be taking other jobs too, but having something steady will mean a lot less planet hopping and lot more time and money for us all. I assume there are no objections to more time and money all around?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Well, everyone knows I just do this for fun, being independently wealthy,” Jess deadpanned. “But far be it from me to keep everyone else from profiting.” Laughter chased her comment as everyone had a good laugh.

“Well then, as of now you've all got forty-eight hours. Do as you please so long as everyone is back aboard the morning we go back to the doctor. Like I said, assuming Linc is cleared to go, we'll be out of here as soon as we can, making this speed run. That money will really help make up for our being idle all this time. Don't get in trouble!” she added as the crew all headed to clean up and change. She looked at Lincoln.

“What do you want to do?” she asked him.

“Let's head in and get a hotel room,” he told her, standing. “Then, I want to take you out to dinner. After that we'll see what happens.”

“That sounds like a plan,” she nodded firmly and the two went to gather their things.

-

Somehow Sean and Jessica ended up together, wandering through the streets of Porto San Lucia among the shops and cafes there. Faulks had found something that interested her and had struck off on her own before anyone else had left the ship. Sean was fairly certain that Tony had gone back to his family home, though he hadn't bothered to ask and truthfully didn't care.

“Still not going to tell me what's bothering you?” Jessica asked out of the blue.

“There's nothing bothering me,” Sean's reply was automatic. “I do appreciate your concern, but there's nothing wrong,” he added after a few seconds.

“If you say so,” Jess sighed quietly. “I swear, getting answers out of you is harder than finding a hen's tooth,” she was shaking her head.

“What does that mean?” Sean frowned, having never heard that saying before.

“Ever see a chicken with teeth?” Jess asked.

“Now that you mention, no,” Sean replied, seeing where this was going. “I get it now. I take it you spent a lot of time around chickens?” he asked, grinning.

“Where I grew up, if you wanted eggs you raised chickens,” Jess shrugged. “In fact, if you wanted anything you pretty much raised it yourself. You didn't have chickens to feed when you were younger?”

“No,” Sean admitted. “If we wanted eggs we hunted for them. Taking them from nests in the wild.”

“You didn't raise food where you come from?”

“We did some,” he admitted. “But it was mostly grain. We had a few cattle and some other domesticated animals that were native to our world. Mostly we hunted though. It was good training,” he said without much thought.

“Training for what?” she asked.

“Just to be a better hunter,” he shrugged. Not entirely a lie after all.

“Where are you from, Sean?” Jessica asked suddenly. “I mean, you know where I'm from. Was from, anyway,” she sighed at the memory of how things were so messed up in her past. “I've never heard you say where you were from.”

“I doubt you've ever heard of it,” he replied truthfully. “I'm from pretty far out on the rim myself, just in a different direction from you. You hungry?” he asked as they passed a small eatery that had a delicious smell wafting out it's open doors and windows.

“I could force myself to eat,” she admitted.

“Come on, then,” he motioned with his head to the doorway. “I'm buying.”

“I've got money of my own, Sean,” Jessica semi-protested. “I'm getting paid like everyone else now.”

“Then you can treat me sometime,” he told her. “How's that?”

“So long as we keep up with it,” she nodded. “I don't like owing people.”

“Me either,” he nodded. “Not a bad policy so far as I'm concerned.” The two entered the small cafe and a jovial older woman was soon seating them.

“Would you two like a minute to look at the menus?” she asked, pad in hand.

“Is there a special?” Sean asked. “And do you recommend it for visitors?”

“As a matter-of-fact, today's special is a spaghetti dish that I would absolutely recommend to anyone,” the woman beamed.

“You had me a 'spaghetti',” Sean grinned.

“Me too,” Jess agreed. “And some bread sticks, please,” she added, glancing at the menu board.

“Coming right up!” the woman smiled and then moved on.

“I wonder if this will be as good as Tony's?” Jess mused.

“Don't know, but from the smells I bet it's pretty good,” Sean shrugged. “Maybe we got lucky coming in here, hey?”

“Maybe.”

-

“Three days?” Antonia said, no reaction on her face at all.

“Looks like it,” Tony nodded. He was seated at the table with his parents and sister, a very late lunch or early supper being served. “From what I can see Lincoln's eye is doing fine, so I don't think he'll have any trouble being cleared. As soon as he is, we've got a hot load going outbound that will more than make up for the down time we've had here, plus another cargo waiting at the destination. We'll be too busy for much more than work for the next little bit.”

“Well, that's good,” Lucia said off handed. “I mean, being busy means making money, right?” she added when he looked at her.

“That it does,” he nodded. “The outbound cargo is a rush job apparently, or at least there's a hefty bonus for getting it there on time or early if possible. Once we're up and gone we won't be stopping anywhere else until we can deliver that cargo. Too much money at risk.”

“Do you get work such as that often?” his father asked.

“More than you'd think, really,” Tony nodded. “People often will hire a small freighter to make a direct run even thought it costs more. It's worth it to them to get a cargo where it's going as soon as possible. That's really what keeps small independent ships in business, to be honest. Though Captain Simmons is pretty cagey, always stacking cargoes atop one another so that we've got multiple stops on the same run. She's a pretty good manager,” he shrugged.

“She sounds like an intelligent businesswoman,” Antonia commented.

“She is, but. . .so long as the ship is breaking even, I think that's all she cares about to be honest,” Tony replied. “She's medically retired out of the Navy and being in space is all she really cares about. So long as she can do that, I don't think profit counts as much as just paying for her to be in the black.”

“Well, if she's getting what she wasn't from life you can't ask for much more than that,” Jerome's baritone rumbled. “I take it you will stay with them?”

“Yeah,” Tony's reply was drawn out and slow. “I considered leaving to be honest, but. . .for now I think it's better that I stay on. I may leave at some point. Might even go back to school, I don't know,” he shrugged. He really didn't know at the moment.

“Well, I have stuff to do,” Lucia said suddenly. “Be careful on your trip brother, and maybe send us a message once in a while?” she asked, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“I will,” he promised.

“Mamma, poppa, if you will excuse me?”

“Of course, daughter,” Antonia answered for them both. Lucia departed the dining room, leaving Tony with his parents.

“Wonder what she's got up her sleeve,” Tony murmured.

“What do you mean by that?” Antonia asked him, eyebrow raised.

“She's being too nice to me,” he told her. “I made her mad over Sean a few days ago and she was still mad at me as late as two days ago. Being nice to me doesn't fit. She's up to something.”

“How did you anger her?” Jerome asked, sparing Antonia from having to reply.

“I, ah, might have tried to get between her and Sean and keep her from making a mistake,” Tony admitted.

“While I do not care for the idea of her attaching herself to him either, I believe the saying is 'it is her mistake to make', my son,” Jerome replied evenly, surprising Antonia to her core. “I too would hope that she would forget her interest in him, not because I do not like him, for I do. More than that I owe him a great debt that I have no true way to repay. But he is a man that trouble will follow I fear and I would spare her that if I could. But it is not for you, nor even I, to dictate to Lucia how she spends her time, or with who.” There was a slight note of chastisement in his tone that Tony didn't miss.

“It's just that I know more about how he is than you, or she does,” Tony didn't back down. “And I do like Sean. While I pretty well killed our friendship with my reaction to her coming out of his room, I still would consider him a friend if he'd let me. Which he won't,” he frowned. “But still, Sean is about as deadly as any man alive and his decision-making paradigm usually starts with 'kill them' and just gets worse from there. Lucia doesn't need that kind of thing in her life in my opinion.”

“And yet, were she to end up running this family in my place, such a man might well prove beneficial to her, no?” Jerome countered.

“I can't picture Lucia running things around here,” Tony shook his head.

“She is all that I have left,” Jerome said simply, shrugging. “If she shows an interest, then it will be her. Otherwise, I do not know.”

“How is it that you 'killed' your friendship with him?” Antonia asked.

“Well, the morning after we got Lucia back, I was on my way to his room to get him for breakfast and I saw her come out of his room. She wouldn't tell me what she'd been in there for, and so I kinda barged in on him and demanded to know what they'd been doing,” Tony explained. “He said she'd been there to sleep because she was afraid, and… I might have questioned that a little. What?” Tony asked his mother as her face paled.

“What did you say to him, my son?” she asked softly.

“Well, I told you,” Tony looked puzzled. “I told him if he'd touched her inappropriately that I'd . . . well I didn't finish since he interrupted me, but the message was clear. That's when he told me that she had slept on one side of the bed under a blanket while he slept on the other side above the covers, and I said something like 'and I'm supposed to believe that?' to him. That's what angered him.” His mother's face was more drawn now than before.

“You have insulted him gravely, my son,” she almost whispered. “Were you anyone he had not counted as a friend, I have no doubt he would have killed you where you stood,” she added just as softly.

“Yeah, I got that, after the fact,” Tony agreed. “He explained that in his culture, your culture I guess,” he amended, “that a woman chose who her virtue went to and that any man who took it didn't ever do it again.”

“To say the least,” his mother's face hardened. “The punishment among our people for rape is emasculation by fire,” she said flatly.

“Say what now?” Tony knew he couldn't have heard that right.

“A rapist will be nailed to a log through his scrotum,” his mother said tightly. “That log will then be set on fire. His only escape is essentially to tear himself away from the burning log. Even if he lives, his days of attacking women are ended forever. Rarely does one survive, since medical attention is not wasted on such a one. A woman who makes a false allegation suffers no better, though the punishment is of course slightly different.”

“That. . .that's barbaric!” Tony almost screeched.

“The instance of rape or false allegations of rape among our people is almost non-existent,” Antonia shrugged. “And should a woman be unvirtuous, then she will be shunned. Unless the man she gave herself to will keep her, she will likely never have a family nor a home. The same for a man. Should he accept her virtue and then despise her, he will find himself an outcast and spend his life on the fringe of society, cut off from everything that is important to our people.”

“Good God,” Tony shook his head slowly. “That's beyond savage, mom. What the hell kind of people do that?”

“People who have a dim view of crimes that are considered 'acceptable' by other societies,” she told him coldly. “We recognize the sanctity of the marriage bed as well as that of the life of the unborn. We also revere a promise as inviolate. One who breaks his word, gains the name of Oath-breaker, is likewise shunned from society. As a result there are very few liars among us. Few rapists and very few promiscuous individuals. The society is stronger for that, as is the clan and family. Do not denigrate or disparage that which has worked for centuries, my son. Their society is far better than the one in which you live and were raised in, I assure you.”

“How can you say that!” Tony demanded.

“In our society, what happened to your sister would never had occurred,” she said flatly. “For had it happened, then the attacker's entire clan would have been eliminated. Both as punishment for the crime and as a deterrent to others in the future.”

Tony was about to comment on that but stopped at seeing the look in his mother's eye. Perhaps discretion was called for here.

“It is not so different from what you did to secure your sister's release, is it Antonio?” Jerome chimed in about that time and Tony turned to his father.

“That. . .that was different!” he exclaimed. “That was my sister!”

“I see,” Antonia's voice chilled even more. “So long as it is you, or someone you care about, there are no limits to what you would do. But if someone else is in that position, then they should not have the same options as you do.” She rose abruptly, anger marring her beautiful features.

“Perhaps you are right, my son,” she said flatly. “This in not the place for you. You do not have the understanding or maturity to sit in your father's place. I doubt you ever will.” With that she turned her back on him and left the dining room without another word.

“What the hell was that?” Tony asked his father, astonished.

“That was perhaps long overdue,” Jerome told him sadly. “You are correct in saying that you cannot resist the temptations that power offer you, Antonio. You would easily justify anything you do in the name of your own family, and in the same breath condemn another for doing the same thing. I had thought all along that you would be the perfect son to replace me as the head of this family one day. Intelligent, resourceful, able to make decisions even under pressure, fair to his people. It would appear however that I was wrong in that belief. I think, sadly, that your mother's pronouncement was correct. You are not perhaps the best candidate for replacing me when the time comes.” The older Delgado stood, wiping his mouth and hands with his napkin.

“Safe travels my son,” he said simply, before he too departed, leaving a stunned Tony staring after him.

“What the hell?”

-

“This is nice,” Meredith noted as she sat her overnight bag on the bed. Linc had found them a place outside the usual tourist trap type establishments with a little help from Tony, and the place was just as nice as the medic had said.

“Hot tub en suite, too,” Linc said as he checked the bath. “Nice balcony overlooking some of the nicer areas of the city. Yeah, this will do nicely, I think,” he nodded to himself.

“You sound as if you have some kind of plan, Mister Simmons,” Meredith grinned at him.

“As it happens, my only plan is to seduce my wife over the next forty-eight hours,” he told her, smiling slightly. “I expect we'll be in space for the foreseeable future so I wanted to take these last few nights on the ground to enjoy it.”

“It's not like we can't enjoy ourselves on the ship, Lincoln,” Meredith said with mock exasperation.

“Having someone call you for a com call or a course correction in the middle of 'enjoying ourselves' gets old,” he pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Also kills the mood. This way, the only thing that can get in the way is the need to eat, or the desire to go and see something.” He embraced her and kissed her soundly.

“Well then,” she murmured against him as they broke for air. “I guess you'd better get started Mister Simmons,” she was unbuttoning his shirt as she spoke. “Jessica is right,” she laughed throatily. “That eye patch does make you look like a pirate.”

“Then prepare to be plundered, wench,” Linc grinned, returning the favor. Soon the two were wrapped around, as well as wrapped up in, each other, their other problems, including Lincoln's eyesight, left far behind for once.

-

Faulks had decided to simply sight see. She was lonely a bit but. . .hanging with Galen just didn't seem right, especially with him and the girl looking to have paired off. The Doc had disappeared again and she was less enthused in hanging around him than she was even Galen. Going with the Captain was a non-starter, too. She considered staying on the ship, but no Marine could resist shore leave and Faulks had been a Marine for a long time.

Soon she had found a bar and was slowly drinking a beer while watching the HDV over the bar that was showing a soccer match. The same match was being played out over other screens in the place and you could tell who was cheering for who by the chorus of groans and cheers at each score or change of possession.

“This seat taken?” she was brought out of her reverie by a the question and turned to see a dark haired woman standing there, bag on her shoulder.

“The seat?” the woman asked again. “Taken?”

“Wha-oh, no,” Faulks shook her head. “Sorry. I was drifting. Took me a minute to figure out you meant me.”

“No problem,” the woman assured her, taking the seat and paying her bag on the counter. “Spinners?” she asked the tender, who nodded in the affirmative and moved to get her drink.

“Who's winning?” the woman asked Faulks, who had returned to nursing her beer and staring at the screen.

“No idea,” Faulks replied honestly. “The team in red seems better, but the team in yellow has a couple guys that seem really good at running down the ball.”

“You must not be from around here,” the woman said as she grabbed a handful of beer nuts from a bowl and tossed a few of them in her mouth. The bartender arrived with a bottle and the woman tossed him a bill to cover it.

“I'm not,” Faulks nodded, only half paying attention to the woman.

“That's the Cup Finals,” the woman nodded to the screen. “Almost a planetary holiday,” she snorted. “The red jerseys are the San Griaul Saints. San Griaul is on the other side of the planet from here. The yellow jerseys are Porto Lucia's Angelics. Misnomer if I've ever heard it, but they are our team. The series is tied two-two, so this game decides bragging rights for the year.”

“I can see where that would be important,” Faulks nodded, though she really didn't care. Soccer was just a game to her. One she enjoyed playing herself back when she'd been a Marine, but it wasn't some kind of idol altar for her.

“I can see that something like this isn't really that important to you,” the woman's amusement was clear. “That's fine, I was just catching you up in case you did care. Oh, I'm Anita. Anita Callaveri. Just call me Nita, everyone does. So if you aren't interested in the game, why sit here watching it?”

“It was already on,” Faulks shrugged. The woman was friendly enough but was making her uneasy for some reason. She didn't understand why, but she was. No, not uneasy, Faulks decided. Just. . .she didn't know, exactly. Not yet.

“Ah,” Nita nodded. “Just came in to drink then. Scooter's is a good place,” she affirmed, taking a drink from her beer. “Sometimes a bit crowded but this isn't too bad since-YES!” Nita cut herself off and yelled, jumping to her feet as a yellow jersey player managed to get a shot past the red goalie. “That's what I'm talking about!” her shouts were echoed by several others, though a few groans and not a few curses were also heard throughout the place.

“Sorry,” Nita apologized as she sat down. “What was I saying? Oh, Scooter's is usually more crowded but I suspect that some people went to see the game live. Stadium is neutral ground so everyone feels safe in going. Otherwise this place would be jammed full.”

“Neutral ground?” Faulks asked in spite of herself, probably because it was a familiar term in an unfamiliar setting.

“Honey, most people are ardent fans and they take it to extremes,” Nita chuckled. “Notice that even those who seem to be cheering for the Saints aren't wearing their colors? Most places in San Lucia won't even sell them. Same for the other cities. Twenty-four teams play each other four times a season, usually double-header weekends, one home and one away. Most of the visiting teams have private security for the players and the planetary Marshal Service provides escort. They have an entire division that does nothing but work the games. It's that bad.”

“Looks like no one would want to go if it's that bad,” Faulks noted, signaling for another beer.

“We go to the home games, just like they do,” Nita assured her. “Playoff games and the championship are always played on neutral grounds so that people can go to support both teams. They'll always be in one of five places.”

“Sounds like a lot of trouble,” Faulks shrugged.

“Hey!” Nita sounded almost put out. “This is football we're talking about!”

“I see,” Faulks didn't bother to point out that it was soccer, not football. Probably not worth the trouble. This woman seemed like she'd take offense to it, and there was no point poking the bear. Still, it was a nice distraction, and the woman was friendly enough. And not bad looking.

What the hell.

-

“Okay, that was seriously good,” Jessica leaned back, hand over her mouth as she almost burped. Sean nodded, pushing his own plate away.

“I think it might be better than Tony's, and that's saying something,” he agreed. “I was going to have desert, but. . .I don't think I can, now.”

“Oh, God, me either,” Jessica almost moaned. “I can't hold another bite of anything.”

“I don't know where you put what you did eat,” Sean noted. “You packed away about as much as I did.”

“I'll find it next time I try to wear my jeans,” Jess snorted. “And I won't eat again until tomorrow probably. I'll have to hit the treadmill all the way to Elvy once we're back in space, too.”

“You didn't eat that much,” Sean scoffed.

“I'm not nearly as tall or broad as you are,” she reminded him. “And on a woman, food goes one of three places; boobs, butt, or belly. And you can tell I didn't get the 'boob' gene,” she indicated her small bust line.

“Ah,” Sean waved it away. “There's nothing wrong with how you look, Jess.”

“There will be if I keep eating like this,” she assured him. “I have to get out of here while I can still walk,” she stood.

“Wanna do anything else?” Sean asked.

“I don't know,” she admitted. “Hadn't thought about it, really. Last time I was just walking around someone grabbed me and almost jerked my arm out of socket.”

“I think we can avoid that this time,” he told her. “But I don't really know anything about this place, to be honest. At least not when it comes to what there is to do. You?”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “I guess we can just wander around and see what we can see?” she suggested, eyebrow raising.

“Why not,” he agreed with a nod. “This place is lit up at night. We'll just stay in the well-lit areas and avoid anything that looks like a trap. Sound good?”

“Like a plan,” she hooked her arm in his and the two set out.

-

Her name was Talitha Jameson. Tal. Wilhelm swore that she was the most able woman he'd ever worked with, and considering the former mercenary's storied past that had to be good for something.

Tall, broadly and strongly built though it was disguised by her height, she stood before Antonia in a pose of relaxed parade rest. Antonia remembered that this had been the woman to carry Sean Galen on his way to do her errand. She would be likely do fine.

“Do you understand your orders?” she asked the younger woman.

“Yes, Dona,” the woman replied easily. “I'm to be her escort, but I must make it look as if I'm her attendant.”

“Yes,” Antonia nodded. “This will be an extended assignment I'm afraid. Will that present a problem for you personally?”

“No, Dona,” Talitha shook her head. “I have no family. No one will miss me.”

“I realize that this is a strenuous position, and will require no small amount of subterfuge on your part, Miss Jameson,” Antonia continued. “Your pay will reflect that difficulty I promise you. There will be assistance nearby for you to call upon as necessary but using them will expose you, so have a care. Also, Galen will recognize you since you carried him wherever he went the night my daughter was returned home.”

“I doubt he will remember me, Dona,” Talitha shrugged.

“He will remember,” the older woman assured. “Mister Galen is a unique individual, Miss Jameson. I believe that my daughter will be more than safe in his care, but do not allow that to influence your decisions. It is you I am entrusting her care to. Wilhelm recommended you personally for this.”

“I am honored by his trust,” Tal bowed her head slightly. “And I will see to it she is safe. Will she know that is my job, or assume that I am merely an attendant.”

“She will know,” Antonia promised. “She will not like it, but I do not care. Neither will you, Miss Jameson. Ignore her bluster and threats if she uses any. You do not work for her, but for me. I think she will be less inclined to complain about safety precautions after the events of the last two weeks, however.”

“Very well, Dona,” Talitha nodded again. “I will need to secure suitable attire and other accessories. How long do I have?”

“The sooner you are prepared the better,” Antonia handed the younger woman a debit card. “This will cover any expenses you have, whether here or on the job. Do not hesitate to use it. Whatever you need, get it. It is little enough for what I am asking. Choose a good wardrobe that you will want to wear once this assignment is finished.”

“Graci, Dona,” Talitha bowed again, accepting the card. “I will be ready.”

“Please wait outside for a few minutes,” Antonia told her. “I want you and Lucia to meet so that you won't be total strangers. You may see to your needs afterward, if you don't mind.”

“Si, Dona,” Talitha nodded and left. Antonia waited five minutes and then called for Lucia to come to her.

-

“You wanted to see me Mamma?” Lucia asked, stepping inside and closing the office door.

“Yes, Lucia,” Antonia leaned back. “I have made the arrangements you asked for,” she said without preamble. “All is in readiness, save one thing. You have not had a personal escort assigned to you again as yet. I have made such an assignment and wish for you to meet her. She will pose as your attendant, but her actual job will be to prevent anything from happening to you again. You will not hinder her in carrying out this assignment. Do I make myself understood?”

“Mamma, I don't want any-”

“Lucia, this is not open for debate,” Antonia said flatly, cutting off her daughter's objections. “She's going or you're not. Simple as that. I will not have you out without an escort, period. I have agreed to help you despite knowing for a fact that your father disapproves and that this will anger him greatly. I respect your tenacity, daughter, and even applaud it. In exchange for my not inconsiderable help however, you will accept this. If you do not, you will go no further. If you create a difficulty for her, you will not go. If you wait until you are off the estate and become problematic, then you will be returned here and here you shall stay until I am satisfied that you understand the gravity of your situation. Now, am I clear?”

“Yes, mother,” Lucia sighed. Her use of 'mother' rather than 'mamma' showed her exasperation, which bounced off her mother like a rubber ball.

“Please come in Miss Jameson,” Antonia said over the intercom. Seconds later Talitha entered the room. Lucia took one look at her and turned at once to her mother in complaint.

“She looks like a Marine!” she exclaimed.

“I was a Marine,” Talitha nodded. “I won't look like one in few hours,” she promised. “I know how to blend in, Miss Delgado.”

“Calling me 'Miss Delgado' isn't blending in,” Lucia said, still speaking to her mother.

“How about 'brat', then?” Talitha asked, causing Lucia's head to snap around.

“Are you calling me a brat?” she demanded.

“Not yet,” Talitha replied easily. “It does look like we're heading that direction, though,” she added.

“I don't like her,” Lucia turned back to her mother, only to see Antonia grinning ear to ear.

“I do,” she replied at once. “Well done, Miss Jameson. You may go and see to your things. We will not need you until this evening, I should think.”

“Yes Dona,” Talitha nodded slightly.

“What things?” Lucia demanded.

“She needs a new wardrobe to pose as your attendant rather than a 'Marine',” Antonia replied. “She has to go and see to that.”

“Wait!” Lucia said, and Talitha looked back just before she opened the door. Lucia looked again to her mother.

“If she's going to pose as my attendant then I'm going to help her pick out her 'wardrobe',” Lucia announced. “She has to look the part.”

“I choose my own clothes,” Talitha said dryly.

“You have to fit in or every one who sees you will know what you are right off,” Lucia shook her head stubbornly. “That's what happened to Bella,” the younger woman was surprisingly somber now. “Bella looked like a guard and she got cut down without a thought or a second of warning. If you're going to be at risk like that, then you're going to blend in as best you can. That means I'm going to help you choose what you're getting. You're not going to look like a Marine or a bodyguard either.”

Antonia's face showed a small bubble of surprise before she could smother it. Talitha caught it and nodded her acquiescence to the 'demand'.

“All right,” Talitha nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” she smiled.

“I will make the arrangements,” Antonia said, reaching for her com. “I suggest you two use this time to get acquainted. Lucia, remember what I have said. I will not be forgiving.” Her voice was iron strong for all it's softness.

“I'll remember.”

-

“Any of my friends who see me like this will never stop talking about it,” Lucia sighed. Her car, armored and layered with bullet-resistant glass, was both led and chased by another vehicle, each full of armed guards. Two more rode in the front of her car and Talitha Jameson sat beside her.

“It's necessary,” Tal told her.

“Oh, I know,” the sighed again. “I just hate that it is, that's all. At least it's safer for all of you. I used to complain about security until Poppa agreed to remove all but just two; Bella and Franz.” She grew silent at that, remembering the two who had died trying to protect her by themselves.

“That wasn't your fault,” Tal told her firmly. “The way I understood it, they had watched you a long time, or at least had detailed information on how you traveled. Had you still had extra security, then they would have died as well. It was a professional hit, Lucia. Well planned and well executed.”

“So there's no real point in all this?” the girl asked, waving her hand around them. “Just more to be killed?”

Tal hadn't given the girl enough credit. She was beginning to see that the 'brat' persona was just that; a persona. Lucia Delgado was smart. And quick, too.

“The point is to prevent it from happening again,” Tal chose her words with care. “These men and women aren't just 'guards' like the men who work the gates of the estate or stand detail at your father's places of business and what have you. They're hard core ex-military. The absolute best you can find and loyal to your family because of how well your father treats them.”

“You mean pays them,” Lucia said flatly.

“No, I mean treats them,” Tal corrected. “Did you know that Bella had a sister who was mentally challenged?” she asked suddenly.

“Of course I did!” Lucia exclaimed, insulted. “And now she's alone!” tears threatened to flow.

“No, she isn't,” Tal replied calmly. “Your father has hired a caregiver for her so she can remain in her own home, where she's comfortable and the surroundings are familiar. And she'll have that care until the day she dies, Lucia. There are a number of students at Uni right now who lost their parents in service to your family over the years. Your father has assured that each one will have an education and a place with the family if they want it. If they want it, not in exchange for their scholarship,” Tal stressed as Lucia started to speak.

“So when I say 'because of how he treats them', that's exactly what I mean,” she continued. “The Delgado family treats their 'soldiers' better than the Commonwealth or any of the planetary defense forces I know of. You don't just 'hire on' to work for your family, Lucia. There's stiff competition and and stiffer screening process. It's one of the most sought after jobs in the industry. Because of how well your family treats the people who work for them.”

Lucia digested that in silence as Talitha fell silent once more. She could tell she had given the girl something to think about. She decided to try and distract her from something so morose for a while.

“Where is this place we're going?”

“Vincento's,” Lucia said absently, back to looking out the window. “Vincento's Galleria.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

-

“Vincento's Galleria,” Jessica read aloud at the name on the marquee. “That's a big mall.”

“Is at that,” Sean agreed, looking at the three-story building. “Wanna go in?” he asked.

“Might as well,” Jessica tried to feign disinterest but Sean could tell she really wanted to. “Nothing better to do.”

“Well, let's go then,” Sean grinned down at her. She smiled at him and took his arm, the pair heading inside to see what there was to see.

-

“You, with the cars,” Talitha told the drivers. “Be ready for a fast pick-up, just in case. We shouldn't have any difficulty but I want everyone alert.” As Lucia's personal guard, Talitha commanded the entire team's itinerary.

“Yes ma'am,” the senior driver nodded and the three moved to where no one could approach the vehicles without being seen.

“Team one will enter and sweep for threats, then be the outer bubble. Team two will be loose around the primary. Don't crowd her and don't smother her, but be on the alert for anyone who seems suspicious. And let's not forget that she's popular and young,” Tal warned. “Other kids her age will recognize her and some will be friends or admirers. Let's not kill a hormonal teen for wanting to talk to a pretty girl, okay?” Chuckles passed through the teams as each member moved to their position.

“This sucks,” Lucia sighed bitterly.

“We're just doing our job, Lucia,” Tal reminded her.

“I don't mean you,” Lucia shook her head. “I'm grateful to all of you,” she said, unaware that several of her detail could still hear her. “If it wasn't for you I'd really be sunk. I meant it sucks that I need all of you just to go shopping in a public mall, that's all.” Depression was settling on her in a big way it seemed. Tal reminded herself that this teenager had just gone through a very rough time less than two weeks ago.

“Well, look at it this way,” she tried to lighten the mood. “If it weren't for you, none of us would have a job. And even if we did, we wouldn't be getting to come here while we're on the clock,” she added with a grin. “So really, you're doing all of us a favor!”

Lucia looked at her, face showing first her confusion at what Tal had said, then a hint of anger at what she thought was teasing, and finally, with Tal's grin robbing her words of any sting, giggling just a bit.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I needed that. I'm sorry I'm so morose.”

“If anyone on the planet has a right to be morose right now, it's you,” Talitha shrugged. “Don't worry about it. Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lucia's voice was clear and firm now, her confidence restored at least for the moment. “Let's go and spend a lot of my parent's money!”

“Shopping. The cure for most all ails,” Talitha laughed as the two headed inside, surrounded by a protective bubble of heavily armed men and women.

-

“Wow,” Jessica said as the two entered the atrium area of the three story mall. Far overhead was a skylight, dark now but softly back lit with a dark hued light that made it seem as if the sky was glowing in a soft purple hue through the lights.

“It's something,” Sean agreed. “Don't know that I've ever seen anything like it.”

“I haven't,” Jessica replied. “I don't recall anything like this on Berea, either. And forget Gateway. What about your world?”

“No,” Sean almost snorted in amusement but caught it in time. “We don't believe in things like this for the most part. And where I grew up was more rural than most. Closest thing to this for us was a general store and trading post.”

“Where was it you were from again?” Jessica tried to sound idle.

“I doubt you'd recognize it,” Sean gave a similar answer to the last time she'd asked that. “Long way from here, I'm afraid.”

“Ah,” Jessica nodded, pretending not to notice that he once again dodged her question. Sean had to be careful around her. The inclination to talk to her even when he didn't want to was strong. He was more certain than ever that there was something in her body chemistry that encouraged friendliness, even among strangers. He didn't hold it against her, but he was still cautious.

“I don't recognize any of these store names,” she said idly as the two perused the computer screen directory. “Big food court,” she noted.

“I can't eat anything for at least another week,” Sean groaned, only slightly exaggerating.

“Me either,” Jessica nodded. “Just saying. Look, there's an art store,” she pointed.

“And how about this?” Sean pointed. “Who'd expect to find a knife dealer in a place like this?”

“Maybe it's kitchen knives and stuff,” Jessica suggested.

“With a name like Razor's Edge?” Sean raised an eyebrow. “I doubt it. You want to hit the art store?” he asked.

“I haven't actually drawn anything in a long time,” Jessica sighed. “I don't know that I'd remember how, to be honest.”

“Well, there's only one way to find out,” Sean shrugged. “And stuff like that will be cheaper here than anywhere else we're likely to be for months. We'll be in the black for nearly three months at least before we make it back to Halcyon, and I don't know you'd find anything like this even there, assuming we have time to go look.”

“True,” Jessica mused. “And bridge watch might be less boring with a sketch pad and pencils,” she admitted. “Sure, let's go and take a look,” she decided on a whim. “Afterward we'll hit the knife place if you want,” she added.

“I got a knife,” Sean shrugged, but she could tell he was interested.

“I don't,” she replied, thinking that would get him to go. “I can at least look.”

“Okay.”

-

“This shit is ridiculously over-priced,” Talitha grumped as she and Lucia looked through clothing. “I don't know how you stand this.”

“It's just part of it,” Lucia shrugged. “I have to look the part. I admit I don't always like it, but if you don't keep up appearances it can look bad on the family's status.”

“I don't believe that for a minute,” Tal snorted. “There's no way anyone would look down on a member of your family because of how they chose to dress.”

“You'd be surprised,” Lucia shrugged again.

“Then why bother with them?” Tal asked her. “Be a trend setter and change the way things are. Did you ever stop to think that people are watching you to see what you wear so they can emulate you, instead of denigrate you?”

“What?” Lucia stopped and looked at her new 'attendant'.

“Seriously,” Tal nodded. “You're a celebrity just for being who you are, Lucia. You're also pretty, and have a great body. People are going to watch someone of your social standing just to see what you're choosing to wear. And considering what you're up to, you may want to think about a rougher style of clothing anyway,” she added. “Pretty dresses and women's business suits aren't exactly going to catch the eye of someone who works as an engineer.”

“What are you saying!” Lucia sputtered, suddenly red-faced. “What are you talking about!”

“Lucia,” Tal looked at her knowingly. “Your mother did select me to go with you on your little expedition, so I had to know what you were trying to do. You don't have much time either, since he'll probably be gone in a couple days. According to your mother, his background is such that he isn't going to be impressed with a flowery dress or a Gustinni suit,” she indicated the high line women's business suit handing before them on fancy wooden racks. “I'm not saying they don't have their place, because they do. But. . .under the circumstances, you should think about rougher wear as well. That's all I'm saying.”

“I can't wear something like that,” Lucia was shaking her head. “People would talk!”

“Who cares?” Tal shrugged. “What are they going to say? And if they do say anything, how can it hurt you? Most of those people can only wish they were in your social circle to start with. So wear what you want, when you want, and ignore them. Tell you what,” Tal said suddenly with a 'make a deal' look. “You buy at least a few outfits that I would wear in your situation, and I'll buy one of these ridiculous suits. No, two of them because dresses aren't my thing.”

Lucia looked at her for a moment, clearly considering.

“You have to buy two dresses,” she said suddenly, bartering back. “Three suits and two dresses. You can always carry a bag or something, but. . .two dresses at least, for special occasions. You do that and I'll buy a week's worth of whatever you choose, so long as I don't look silly.”

“Two suits and two dresses,” Tal replied, crossing her arms. “I can't wear something so hideously expensive when doing my normal job. It's a waste, really, considering how likely it is to get torn up. But I'll let you choose the dresses, so long as I don't look silly,” she added, throwing one of Lucia's bargains back at her.

Lucia took a moment to considering that, giving Talitha the eye. Tal almost felt uncomfortable as Lucia's gaze swept over her until she realized the girl was actually thinking about how to 'dress' her new attendant.

“I choose the dresses, and the shoes,” Lucia countered. “And lingerie,” she added with a smirk.

“What?!” Tal's outburst drew looks from the security team, but they quickly looked away upon seeing no threat. Most didn't notice Talitha's red face.

“Gotta have the right underwear for some things,” Lucia's smirk blossomed. “You get what I pick out for you, and I'll do the same. Do we have a deal?” she offered her pinkie finger with a cheesy grin. Talitha looked at her for another minute before reluctantly accepting the 'pinkie swear' idea.

“I feel stupid,” she complained quietly.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Lucia beamed. “Okay, a deal's a deal, so let’s get started.”

-

“I would truly hate the think that this stuff was more expensive somewhere else,” Jessica complained as she and Sean exited the art store with two sketchpads and several pencils and accessories.

“Well, remember you're paying at least some for the fact that you can say you bought it here,” Sean chuckled.

“Which will do me no good at all on the bridge of the Celia,” Jess grumped, still looking at the receipt.

“But it will help pass the time and you said you used to enjoy it,” Sean reminded her.

“Yeah, but I didn't pay nearly as much for the goods then, either,” Jess would not be mollified. “Still, I'm curious to see if I can remember how to do anything. And part of this,” she waved the receipt before putting it away, “was that book. It looked good and will help me relearn anything I've forgotten. Maybe.” She stored the receipt, allowing Sean to carry the bag for her at his insistence.

“Now,” she declared. “The Razor's Edge is this way,” she pointed.

“We don't have to go there, you know,” Sean told her.

“I want to see it too,” Jess reminded him. “And no one said you have to buy anything. But if I found a good knife, and you approved of it, I wouldn't mind learning to use one. Since you're an aficionado of knifery, can I assume you'd at least teach me the basics?”

“I don't think 'knifery' is a real word,” Sean told her, looking amused.

“Don't change the subject,” the diminutive pilot insisted. “Would you or not?”

“I guess,” Sean sighed. “It's not like we don't have time for it,” he shrugged. “But are you sure you want to do something like that?”

“I am, actually,” she nodded. “I realized when that guy grabbed me that my size is a detriment. I did okay against him, but I surprised him as much as he did me. I've never shot a gun, and I can't learn to shoot on the ship, but. . .I can learn to use a knife, maybe. With a good teacher, anyway,” she added slyly.

“Fine,” Sean mock grumped. She had known he would do it as soon as she asked, he was sure. He had never been able to say no to her even when he knew he should. And that bothered him more and more every time he thought about it. He still hadn't found a way to get around it, though.

“C'mon, then,” she ordered, grinning in victory. “It's at the far end of the mall, but it's on the second floor like this place was.”

-

“Eagle Pass?” Lucia looked at the sign above the entrance to the store with a frown. The windows showed mannequins with climbing equipment, jeans, flannel shirts (flannel of all things!), and heavy boots. Behind them were shelves and racks of other 'rough work' clothing, as Talitha had called it.

“Great place,” Talitha nodded. “And don't worry, it's almost as expensive as the places you shop,” she jabbed. “It's just that here, the clothes are worth the money.”

“My clothes are worth the money!” Lucia protested as Talitha led her into the store.

“I'm sure they are,” the body guard said absently. “Now, first things is pants. You need jeans, and maybe some rougher wear, too. We'll see what we can find there first,” she said as a clerk came their way. “My friend needs to be outfitted,” Tal smiled at the young woman. “She'll need the works, too.”

“Where would you like to start?” the clerk smiled, thinking of her commission. This was her lucky day.

-

“Wow,” Jessica said softly as the two entered the Razor's Edge. “This is incredible.”

The store was a cave of cutlery. Everything from the highest quality kitchen knives to precision made swords and all stops in between. Sean saw nothing in the store that didn't smack of quality.

“It is something,” he agreed. “I'm glad we came to see it, now,” he admitted.

“What's that?” she asked, pointing to an odd shaped blade that looked like half of a saucer with a wooden handle.

“That's an Ulu,” he told her. “Woman's knife,” he translated.

“Is that supposed to be sexist or something?” Jessica demanded.

“No, that's what Ulu means,” Sean grinned at her. “It was designed to scrape hides and peel fat from whales and walruses and what not. The design dates all the way back to old Earth. Thousands of years.”

“Oh,” Jessica sounded more subdued. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” he shrugged. “It's a nice historical piece, but it doesn't have a lot of practical applications really. Unless you think we'll come across a walrus somewhere,” he teased.

“Suppose we could skin a Cinnabear with it once we get to Elvy,” Jess grinned.

“I'd rather avoid them if possible,” Sean laughed lightly. “What kind of knife are you looking for?”

“I don't know,” Jessica shrugged helplessly.

“Well, what do you want to do with it?” Sean tried again.

“I don't know that either,” she admitted. “I want to use it to defend myself, but there's no point in having a knife I can't use every day, either. Right?”

“Well, not necessarily. Depends on what you want to do with it. There are different knives for different things, that's all.”

“Faulks had this folding knife that Lincoln used to cut that guy's throat open with to put the tube in it,” Jessica mused. “I could use something like that for sure, working on a ship.”

“True,” Sean mused. “Well, lets see what they have like that.”

-

“Are you serious?” Lucia demanded, looking at the drab flannel shirt Talitha held up to her.

“Do I look like I'm joking?” Tal smirked. “I just let you choose my damn underwear of all things,” she challenged. “A deal's a deal, missy.”

“Fine,” Lucia grabbed the shirt and stomped off to the changing area, a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt already thrown over her arm. Talitha fought down the urge to laugh only by the greatest of efforts as she turned to looking for things of her own. If Lucia was going to dress the part then Tal had to as well.

-

“That's not as big as Faulks' knife, but then I'm not as big as Faulks, so that's okay. Right?” Jessica asked.

“Right,” Sean nodded. “And remember that Faulks isn't a beginner. She learned to use a knife in the Marine Corps. You're starting from scratch. No one just buys a bunch of knives all at once.”

“How many do you have?” she asked out of the blue.

“What?”

“How many knives do you own, Sean?” Jessica asked.

“What difference does that make?” he asked, puzzled.

“None, I was just curious,” she admitted.

“Several,” he shrugged. “But I learned to use a knife when I was a kid, too. A lot of what I own I don't use anymore because I've outgrown them.”

“What's that?” Jessica saw something that caught her eye. Sean followed her point and saw a brace of throwing knives complete with leather sheath.

“Those are throwing knives,” he told her.

“I wonder if I could learn to do that?” she mused aloud.

“You should be able to do anything you put your mind to,” Sean told her without thinking and immediately regretted it. He should not be encouraging her.

“Can I see those?” she asked the attendant, who nodded and handed them over from the display case.

“Oh, they're pretty,” she gushed, looking at the laser etching on the gleaming blades. “What are those symbols?” she asked him.

“Looks like something oriental,” Sean told her, looking. “No idea what they say,” he admitted. She called the clerk, who returned with a smile.

“Do you have any idea what these symbols mean?” Jessica asked, offering the blades back.

“Yin,” the clerk indicated the first one, “and Yang,” he pointed to the second. “That's what the symbol set into the grip means, too,” he added.

“What does that mean?” Jess asked. “Do you know?”

“It's a karmic thing from Old Earth,” the clerk told her. “Balance. For there to be light, there must be dark. For there to be good, there must be bad. That sort of thing. It's a very ancient sort of teaching. Do good and good comes back to you. Same for evil.”

“Nice,” Jessica mused. “They seem well balanced,” she added idly.

“If you like, there's a target in back,” the clerk scented a sale. “Give them a throw.”

“Really?” Jessica looked interested. She glanced at Sean. “What do you think?”

“If it's something you want to do, go for it,” he shrugged in reply. “They do look well made. Just don't pay extra for window dressing I always say.”

“Well, women pay for window dressing,” she grinned. “I'll try them,” she told the clerk. He led the two to the back of the store where a small ten foot alley was kept clear. Against the wall stood a man sized wooden cut out. Foam covered the wall behind it and the floor beneath it to prevent damage to the merchandise.

“Have at it,” he told Jessica. “Just make sure you're aiming at the target,” he laughed.

Jessica smiled back and took the Yin knife in hand, holding it by the grip.

“The guys in the vids do this by the blade, but that seems wrong,” she told Sean, who nodded.

“It is,” he agreed. “Good way to slice your hand. You've got it right. Remember to use your shoulder, not just your arm,” he added.

“Right,” she nodded seriously and then looked at the target.

What am I doing? she thought to herself. What the hell do I know about throwing a knife anyway?

Once more she could almost feel the wheels in her mind turn, flooding her with information. Balance, grip, form, timing. Without a thought her right hand whipped back and then forward. The blade shot away from her hand and buried into the board with a resounding thunk.

Before anyone could speak, her left arm whipped back the same way letting the Yang blade fly. It landed just two inches beneath it's twin, vibrating slightly with the force which it buried into the board.

“Damn,” the clerk was the first one to speak. “That was really impressive, miss,” he complimented. “I don't know that I've ever seen better.”

“Just luck,” Jessica smiled demurely, walking down to take the two knives from the board. “I think I'll take these,” she said calmly, handing them to the clerk. “That sheath comes with them right?”

“Yes ma'am,” the clerk nodded.

“Good. I'll take that folder we looked at too, I think,” she added. “It looks like a good work knife.”

“It's a fine lock-blade ma'am,” the clerk nodded. “Hardened blade and Kriton handles. Practically indestructible. Holds an edge day-to-day as well.”

“Sounds good,” Jessica said absently. “Sean, did you see anything you wanted?”

Sean had been watching Jessica all this time, working to hide his surprise at her ability. Throwing a knife wasn't something you learned at art school or in a teaching program. Throwing a knife with either hand equally well required more than just training, it required an ambidextrous ability that not many people had. And the degree of ability that would be needed for what Jessica had just done would be higher still.

Sean could do it because he'd been trained from the time he was able to walk to use either hand for anything. He'd begun learning to use a knife when he was four and had never stopped learning. A trained and experienced warrior who had fought many battles.

Not a homeless and orphaned schoolteacher.

“Sean?” Jessica asked.

“What?” he asked. “Sorry. Nice job,” he complimented absently. “So much for needing me to teach you anything,” he added wryly.

“It was just luck,” she shrugged. “Besides, using either of those in a real knife fight probably wouldn't work too well, would it?” she asked.

“Depends,” he shrugged. “On how the other person was armed and how good they were.”

“Well, against that knife you usually carry I don't think Yin and Yang there could do much good,” she snorted.

“In the right hands they might,” he shrugged. “The bigger knife doesn't always win. Anyway, you didn't really come in here looking for a fighting knife anyway, did you?”

“I don't know,” she shrugged. “I just wanted to see, I guess. I'm tired of depending on everyone else to protect me.”

“So far you've done a fine job protecting yourself,” he pointed out.

“But it's luck, nothing else,” she stressed. “I can't keep depending on luck any more than I can depending on you guys. Sooner or later luck runs out.”

“That's true,” Sean agreed. “Well, if you want a fighting knife, one you can learn to fight against another knife wielder, then it needs to be a fixed blade knife with a full tang and a wrapped handle. Preferably with leather or wire. Or even better, with both,” he added.

“See anything like that?” she asked him.

-

“Admit it, Lucia,” Tal grinned. “You like it.”

“I don't hate it,” Lucia offered, still looking at her butt in the mirror. “These jeans do show my butt off, don't they,” she added, clearly pleased.

“That's not why you needed them,” Tal resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I know that,” Lucia shot back, allowing the shirt to fall, covering her rear. “This shirt is a problem though,” she added.

“It's supposed to be worn inside your jeans,” Talitha offered.

“That's uncomfortable,” Lucia shook her head. “I don't like it.”

“Well,” Tal mused for a second, then grinned. “Try this.” She took the tails of the shirt, pulled them up to the waist line of the jeans, and then tied them together in a simple knot that would release easily.

“How's that look?” she asked her younger charge, who turned to the mirror once more.

“Hmm,” Lucia mused, turning from side to side, modeling for herself. “That's not bad,” she admitted without realizing she spoke aloud. “Not bad at all.”

“See?” Talitha folded her arms. “Told you.”

“All right, you told me,” Lucia agreed, almost against her will. “Fine. I like it,” she admitted finally. “Happy now?”

“Delirious,” Talitha snorted. “C'mon and let’s get the rest. We've wasted enough time here.”

“Okay.”

-

“What is that?” Jessica saw something else that caught her eyes.

“It's called a multi-tool,” Sean explained, pointing to the device so the clerk would hand it over. “There's dozens of different ones but this one is pretty high quality. Has pliers, screwdrivers, knife blade, a tiny saw blade, there's fifteen, maybe twenty tools on here,” he handed it over.

“Twenty-one, counting the pliers,” the clerk offered before moving to assist someone else.

“What is this good for?” she asked, still examining it.

“Well, it's essentially an emergency tool box,” Sean shrugged. “It's not as good as a tool set, but a lot better than nothing. See what I mean?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Do you have one?” she asked.

“More than one, actually,” he nodded, removing a leather case from his back pocket and showing it to her. “Had it a long time. I use it a good bit,” he admitted. “It's handy to have when you're not near a tool box.”

“It's nice,” she sighed a bit. “But between the folder and the others, it's a bit much. I've spent a good bit already.” She reluctantly handed it back. “Let's look at the fixed blades you were talking about.”

Sean handed the tool to the clerk, then pointed to himself and back to it. The clerk smiled and nodded, laying the tool and it's accessories aside. Sean followed Jessica to where she was looking at knives again.

“Some of these are bigger even than yours,” she said softly. “I'd never be able to handle something like that,” she admitted.

“No, but you don't need to,” he told her. “You need one you can handle without any problem. Weight, length, heft, everything needs to be a close to perfect for you as it can be. Try that one,” he said, pointing to a simple black bladed clip point. The clerk handed it over and Jessica turned it over in her hands.

“It's ugly,” she commented and Sean snorted.

“Knife fighting is an ugly business,” he told her bluntly. “It's not romantic, it's not chivalrous. It's nasty, and it's deadly. Done in the dark, from behind, from whatever direction you can get it done and not get cut yourself. Don't go into this thinking it's 'cool'. It's not.”

“Okay,” she nodded somberly. “I just want to be able to fight back,” she reminded him.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sean assured her. “Just don't think this is going to be clean and neat. You fight with a blade, against a blade, you're probably going to get cut. Simple as that. Accept it and move on. Easier that way when the blood starts flowing.”

She spent ten minutes listening to Sean tell her what to feel for with the blade, tossing it from hand to hand to see how it felt in her grasp and if she could handle it without difficulty. She changed her grip without the blade leaving her hand, she held it at arm's length, down by her side, before her, any motion she would need to make using it for real, Sean had her imitate. Finally, he was satisfied.

“From what you're telling me, I'd say this is a good one to start with,” he admitted. “It seems to fit you well. As you learn, you may want to trade up, or not. But to start with, I'd say this one suits you.”

“Okay,” she nodded, trusting his judgment. “I do like the way it feels in my hands,” she admitted.

“Good enough,” he nodded. Sean haggled with the manager of the store for a few minutes and got her purchases at a slightly reduced rate, then paid for his own without allowing her to see it. Finished, they set out, intending to head back to the Celia.

“Well, that leaves me broke,” Jessica said in a good-natured complaint. “Good thing we'll be in the black for the next little bit,” she laughed.

“Didn't have to buy it all at once,” Sean shrugged.

“Might not ever be back here, like you said,” Jessica shrugged. “And I can't spend the money in space, right? Besides, I can spend my down time on the way out and back practicing. No sense in wasting all that time.”

“That is absolutely true,” Sean nodded as the two started down the escalator to the ground floor.

-

“Let's go up on the second floor,” Lucia said as the two women made their way out of the second store. Behind them one of the security team was carrying numerous packages back to the car for them.

“What for?” Talitha asked.

“There's a little food stand there that serves sugar cakes,” Lucia told her. “I hardly ever eat sweets, but those things are addictive.”

“I do like them myself,” Tal admitted. “All right, we'll go have one, but after that Lucia we really need to head back. You have a lot to do and so do I.”

“Okay,” Lucia readily agreed. “One cake and we're outta here!”

-

“Thanks for this, by the way,” Jessica said as she and Sean descended to the ground floor.

“Sure,” Sean smiled down at her. “I had a good time. Sure beats just staying on the ship with nothing going on.”

“No kidding,” Jessica nodded. “I hope I can find another one of those multi-tool things somewhere when I've been paid again,” she said wistfully. “I'm not a mechanic or anything, but that thing just looked so. . .so handy, you know?”

“I sure do,” Sean reached into his pocket with his free hand and withdrew the small box. “That's why I got it for you,” he added calmly, holding the box out to her.

“What?” Jessica looked at the box, then up to Sean's face, then back to the box.

“I said that's why I got it for you,” Sean repeated. “It's the one you looked at,” he jiggled the box a little, almost like bait. “I wanted you to have it. Don't say I never gave you nothing,” he teased.

“Sean, I. . .I don't know what to say,” she took the small box, her eyes wet.

“Thank you is usually the phrase used in situations like this,” Sean continued to tease her. She carefully placed the box into her shopping bag and then suddenly wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly with a strength that someone so slightly built shouldn't have had.

“Thank you,” her voice was muffled with her face buried in his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

“It's just a multi-tool,” he told her, patting her back gently.

“It is to you,” she nodded, pulling her head back to look at him. “It's a lot more than that to me.”

-

“No, no, these aren't coated in that powdery stuff,” Lucia was shaking her head as she and Talitha approached the escalator. “They drizzle a caramel like concoction over them. Condensed milk that's not quite allowed to caramelize. It's a glaze of some kind with just a hint. . .of. . .cinn. . .a. . .mon. . . .” Lucia's speech had dried up as she looked toward the escalator.

Just in time to see Sean Galen offer a petite blonde woman a small box. Smiling. He was smiling at her. And handing her a small box. Which she took, stored in a shopping bag, and then proceeded to hug Sean Galen very thoroughly, right on the escalator.

Smiling. Smiling at her. Sean Galen was smiling at this little. . .person who was hugging him.

“Lucia?” Talitha's voice sounded like it was miles away.

She was hugging Sean Galen, and he was smiling at her. Carrying a shopping bag for her it looked like. Smiling.

“Lucia!” Talitha's voice was more stringent.

“What?” she demanded, turning to look at Tal and speaking more sharply than she'd intended.

“What's wrong?” Talitha asked.

“Nothing,” Lucia snapped. “I want to go home,” she said suddenly and started for the nearest entrance. “Have the cars meet us there,” she pointed as Tal hustled to catch up and the others moved to stay ahead of the clearly upset primary.

“Lucia, what's wrong!” Tal demanded.

“Nothing I told you!” Lucia snapped back. “I'm just tired and want to go home, now let's go!”

Talitha stopped short, motioning for the others to keep Lucia in their sights. She turned back to the escalator in time to see Sean Galen and a small blonde getting off the escalator, arm in arm, the blonde's head laying on his shoulder. The two walked just like that toward the opposite entrance of the mall.

“Aw, shit,” Tal swore softly before turning to follow her charge out of the mall.

It was a quiet trip back to the Delgado Estate.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

-

“And that pretty well ended the trip,” Talitha reported. “Abruptly I might add.”

Antonia sat back in her chair, her face thoughtful.

“Maybe this will kill her interest?” Tal offered when her boss didn't speak right away.

“Do not count upon it,” Antonia said dryly. “While she is upset now, once she has calmed she will see this as nothing more than a challenge. She may or may not accept it,” Antonia allowed, “but she more than likely will not simply give up. And I do not believe that this woman is anything like a paramour to Galen, in any event.”

“Looked awfully chummy,” Talitha said.

“Chummy is not the same as involved,” the older woman smiled. “And I know there are at least three women on the ship, counting her Captain.”

“I see,” Talitha nodded carefully. “So maybe Galen has a thing going with one of his shipmates?”

“Unlikely,” Antonia shook her head. “Galen is of the opinion that no woman would benefit from his companionship, thus lives a singular life. It is more likely that this woman is a friend, or at least someone he feels protective of. He is somewhat chivalrous, though he would not call it that.”

“What would he call it?” Talitha asked, genuinely interested.

“Something else,” Antonia replied calmly. Simply. “I do not expect this to change things, at least not for the moment. Your assignment remains unchanged. How did you and my daughter interact?”

“We got on pretty well, honestly,” Talitha admitted. “I had to agree to buy some truly over-priced lingerie to go with some equally over-priced dresses in order to get her to buy some more practical clothing,” she made a face at that. “But until we spotted Galen and his shipmate, things were going just fine.”

“It sounds as if you did well,” Antonia smiled at the younger woman. “Thank you for that. And for humoring her.”

“It's not so much to do,” Talitha shrugged. “Anyway, that's about it. She didn't say ten words on the way home.”

“I'm sure I will hear of it sooner than later.”

-

Lucia sat in her room surrounded by now useless clothing, fuming in silence.

“'No woman needs a guy like me',” she mimicked Galen. “What a crock of shit. He could have just told me!”

“Told you what?” her brother's voice made her jump and she whirled on him in a flash, finding a target for her anger.

“Damn you!” she snarled. “Why didn't you tell me Galen had a girlfriend!”

“A what?” Tony asked, surprised by the outburst. Had he not been, he might have thought to take advantage of the moment, but. . .he was caught off guard and missed it.

“A girlfriend, damn you!” she resisted the urge to hurl something at him. “I saw him with his little mousy blonde girlfriend at Vincento's tonight!”

“Little blonde?” Tony frowned. “Hair on her shoulders? Small framed, short?”

“So you do know her!” Lucia was white hot again in an instant.

“She's the pilot,” Tony replied honestly, attempting to get his sister's ire away from him. “Not his girlfriend.” He said it before he thought.

“What?”

“She's the ship's pilot,” he told her. “We're all friends, Lucia. At least we used to be,” he sighed. “It was probably Jess. She was attacked a few nights ago and was probably afraid to go out alone so Sean went with her.”

“And does he make a habit of hugging this pilot in public?” Lucia's voice was scathing.

“Was he hugging her, or was she hugging him?” Tony challenged, tired of being his sister's punching bag.

“What?” that brought her up short.

“Jess has had a hard time,” he told her. “She's not clingy, but Sean saved her from a very bad time on Dry Commons a few months back and she's been close to him since then. Not like that,” he snorted when Lucia's eyes narrowed yet again. “Just. . .friends. She trusts him. That doesn't come easy to her, I think. So while I'm sure she may have hugged him for something-”

“He gave her something,” Lucia told him. “I saw him hand her a small box of some kind.”

“Well, there ya go,” Tony replied. “He did something nice for her and she hugged him for it. She's not his girlfriend. At least not as of six hours ago, anyway,” he shrugged.

Lucia looked at her brother for a minute longer before her face split into a small smile.

“Thanks Antonio!” she beamed at him. “You're a great brother!” she added, right before she slammed her door in his face.

“And good night to you too,” he shook his head, wandering back the way he had come.

Later on he would realize that this was his one grand opportunity to rid Lucia of any thought of Sean Galen, and he had let it slip through his fingers.

-

“Simmons,” Meredith answered her com in exasperation. Lincoln listened to her side of the conversation as he lay on the bed beside her.

“Not usually, no,” Meredith said.

“We can,” she replied to an unheard question, “we just usually don't. More trouble than they're worth on the whole.” Lincoln deduced from that statement that the discussion involved passengers.

“Yes, we're going straight in.” Pause.

“How much?” Lincoln heard the interest change in Meredith's voice and looked at her in amusement.

“Just two of them?” Pause.

“All right,” she seemed to relent finally. “We should be departing in less than seventy-two hours from now,” Meredith warned. “My husband has a doctor's exam day after tomorrow, and assuming he's cleared we'll be turning over the moment we return to the ship. They'll need to be aboard before then.”

“Just send me the details on the net,” she sighed. “No one to receive them until day after, though,” she warned. “Okay. Thanks.” She put the com down after ending the call.

“Passengers?” Lincoln asked, eyebrow going up.

“Two,” Meredith held up two fingers as she nodded in reply. “Two people looking for direct to Elvy. Since the Harbor Master knows we're bound for Liberty Vale the minute we light off, he called us first. They're paying top dollar for a quick trip. About three times what we'd normally get.”

“Wow,” Linc gave a low whistle. “That's serious coin.”

“Probably blood money from some mob family,” Meredith snorted. “But if I don't know that for a fact, I'll take it. It's easy money and will pretty much pay for the time we've been idle. No sense passing up something like that.”

“Makes sense,” Lincoln nodded. “Now, roll over so I can do something about all that tension in your back and shoulders,” he teased.

“Well, I can't refuse that either, now can I?”

-

Faulks woke up to find Nita Callaveri wrapped around her, the two lying in the latter's bed in her very nice apartment.

A few beers had led to a few harder drinks, which had led to dinner and some relaxation, which had ultimately led to here. It had been a pleasant evening, especially considering how it had started out. Faulks carefully disengaged herself from the tangle of arm and leg to stand stiffly, heading for the bathroom. She checked her chrono and realized it was well after breakfast. While not famished just yet she was hungry.

A quick shower after finishing her business, Faulks was combing her short hair when Nita staggered into the bathroom door behind her.

“Morning,” she smiled cat-eyed over Faulks' shoulder.

“Morning,” Faulks smiled back, a look that was almost foreign to her. “Hungry?” Faulks asked.

“I am,” Nita nodded, moving into the washroom to take care of her own needs.

“Well, get yourself together and let's go have a bite to eat somewhere then,” Faulks told her. “I've still got about a day-and-a-half of leave before we start turning over.”

“Turning over?”

“Starting the engines,” Faulks clarified. “From a cold start it takes about three hours or so to be hot enough to light 'em off.”

“Oh,” the other woman nodded, though she clearly had no idea what Faulks was talking about. “Okay.”

“I'll wait for you in the living room,” Faulks said and headed that way.

-

“Morning,” Jess smiled as Sean entered the galley. “I'm almost done with breakfast,” she added, scooping eggs from a skillet on to two plates.

“You didn't have to do that, Jessica,” Sean protested, though only mildly.

“Oh, shush,” she told him playfully. “I can't take you out to eat after last night but the kitchen is fully stocked, and while I'm nothing like the chef Tony is, I can cook,” she assured him.

“You can at that,” he agreed, taking his seat as she went back to the kitchen. She returned a minute later with toast and bacon to add to the eggs, then went back for hash browns and coffee.

“Wow,” Sean commented at the pile of food. “This is nice.”

“It's just plain fare, but it should be edible,” Jess grinned. “And now let’s eat before it gets cold,” she urged.

“Yeah, cold eggs suck,” Sean chuckled as he dug in.

“So what are your plans today?” he asked her.

“Don't have any,” she shrugged. “What about you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “If you want we'll work on your knife skills,” he offered. “And I'll try and come up with something you can use as a target in the cargo bay for practicing with those throwing knives.”

“That sounds like a plan,” she nodded firmly. “Thanks, Sean.”

“Sure.”

-

“How was your evening out, Lucia?” Antonia asked across the breakfast table.

“Fine,” the girl said sleepily, her eyes still drooping. “Talitha tricked me into buying stupid clothes,” she grumbled.

“I am given to understand that it was more of a trade off than trickery,” Antonia's eyebrow rose slightly, mostly in humor.

“Yeah,” Lucia sighed a bit. “And they aren't too bad, really,” she admitted. “Just different. They will take some getting used to is all.”

“What did you get?” Tony asked, curious.

“Jeans and stuff,” Lucia shrugged, waving the irrelevancy away. “Outdoorsy kinda stuff.”

“Outdoorsy?” Tony's own eyebrow rose at that. “Lucia, are you feeling okay?”

“Aren't you funny,” his sister's sarcasm was biting. “What's wrong with me getting outdoor clothes?”

“Well, nothing,” Tony admitted. “It's just. . .well, you don't seem to enjoy the outdoors too much.”

“I do so!” Lucia sounded more like a schoolgirl than a young woman, but she was still sleepy. “I just don't do it all that often, that's all!”

“Okay,” Tony held a hand up in supplication, not wanting to be on her bad side again. “It's cool, anyway. Who's Talitha?” he asked, looking between the two women.

“My new bodyguard,” Lucia told him. “She's actually pretty cool,” she admitted. “And she doesn't talk to me like I'm stupid, either,” she glared at her brother.

“I don't talk to you like you're stupid, Lucia,” Tony scoffed. “I tease you sometimes, but that's because it's my job as your brother,” he grinned at her. “But I'm well aware that you are far from stupid. Neither of us is as smart as Luka I suppose, but neither of us is dumb, either.”

“Luka isn't all that smart once he's outside his numbers,” Lucia smirked slightly. “Remember how he used to forget to eat?”

“Yeah,” Tony snorted. “He'd be down in the basement with a dozen chalkboards all full of numbers and start feeling faint. I asked him once when he'd eaten last and he looked at me all blank for a minute and then says 'what day is it?'” he laughed until he coughed into his napkin.

“That's our Luka,” his sister nodded.

“While he is prone to forget things at times, he is doing something worthwhile let us remember,” Antonia made her presence known again.

“That is true,” Tony nodded. “His work is sure to benefit a lot of people, no doubt. Assuming he gets it finished before he starves to death!” he managed to get out before erupting into a fit of laughter yet again, his sister joining him.

“He is at least working toward something,” Antonia shrugged casually.

“So he is,” Tony nodded again. “I'm not really putting him down. I don't know how many times I day I wonder about something, and then usually add 'Luka would know' at the end of it.”

“Me too!” Lucia nodded. “I do it all the time, especially anything with math!”

“So what do you two have planned today?” Antonia asked.

“I'm just going to hang around here and visit,” Tony shrugged. “We'll probably be leaving day after tomorrow assuming Linc's appointment goes well, and I think it will. I'm going to spend that time here.” He was rewarded with a smile from his mother.

“I've got a few errands to run, but they aren't important,” Lucia shrugged. “I can do them now or later, it won't matter.”

“I have one matter that needs your attention, daughter,” Antonia told her as she stood, finished with her breakfast. “Please come and see me in my office before you do errands or whatever else you decide. Antonio, I will see you for lunch, yes?” she turned to her son.

“You bet!” he smiled at his mother, who smiled in return and then departed.

“Wonder what that's about?” Lucia said aloud, finishing her own meal.

“Didn't sound bad,” Tony told her. “When you get done, assuming it isn't bad,” he snarked, “wanna hang out a while?”

“Sure!” Lucia smiled broadly. “We can go out or stay in, whatever you want.”

“Definitely stay in I think,” Tony told her.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Let me go and see what mother wants and I'll be back.”

“I'll be here or in dad's office talking to him,” Tony promised.

-

“I received a call from the agent this morning,” Antonia told Lucia as soon as the door was closed. “You have a very narrow window of opportunity,” she handed a small slip of paper to her daughter. “They will, as Antonio said, be leaving in two days, give or take, depending on the doctor.”

“Thank you Mamma,” Lucia hugged her mother. “I am thankful for your help. I couldn't do it without you.”

“I know,” he mother smiled at her. “Do not make a mistake, child. Do not make me endure the wrath of your father for nothing,” she winked.

“You enjoy him being angry because it gives you a chance to make-up,” Lucia told her impishly and Antonia laughed.

“You know me too well, mi niña,” she patted her daughter's cheek. “I fear sometimes you are too much like me.”

“That's not a bad thing,” he daughter assured her. “Wish me luck?”

“You know that I do.”

-

“Where'd you get these?”

'These' were training blades, knives roughly the same size as the one Jessica had bought the night before but made of a rubber like substance that gave them some rigidity, but also prevented them from inflicting a true injury other than a bruise or two.

“Had 'em a while,” Sean shrugged. “We use these to train with when we're kids,” he added, then mentally kicked himself for it. Why in the hell was he always telling her things? Now she'd ask-

“Who's we?” Jessica didn't disappoint.

“The men who trained me,” he replied. “Now, first things first. How you grip the blade is everything. Some grips look cool in vids but don't allow you to do much with the knife. Take this one,” he held the grip in his fist with the blade extending point down out of his hand. “You see people all the time holding a knife like this, stabbing someone. Worst thing you can do, really.”

“Why?”

“First of all, it's inefficient,” he told her. “It limits you uses, your range, and your options. It limits both offense and defense, too. The only slight advantage it offers is a greater strength from the arm when you strike. There are times when that is a plus, but those times are rare. Rare as hen's teeth,” he winked at her and she laughed at having her 'old saying' tossed back at her.

“It's not completely useless, mind you,” he continued, “but it's limited. We'll look at what it's good for later on. It's better to hold the knife properly, grip upright,” he twisted the training knife in his hand until the blade was extending from the front, or top, of his fist.

“With this grip are two options; cutting edge up, or down,” he turned the knife to demonstrate each one. “Both have advantages and disadvantages. Firstly, cutting edge down. With the edge down and away, you can. . . .”

-

“Are you completely sure about this?” Talitha asked as she sat with Lucia, the girl making last minute preparations for her 'project'.

“Absolutely,” the answer was firm and clear.

“I mean, are you sure this isn't just some kind of hero worship because he was the one who found you?” Talitha went on as if Lucia hadn't spoken.

“Saved me,” Lucia corrected. “You can say it if you try hard enough. He didn't just find me, he saved me. And no, that's not it. Might have played a part in the beginning, but it's got nothing to do with it now.”

“You haven't spent a full day with this man, Lucia!” Tal objected mildly.

“Hence my dastardly plot to make him spend time with me,” Lucia grinned evilly. “Look, I am well aware of how little I know him. I'm not running around like some horny teenager here, okay?”

“Technically-” Tal started.

“Don't you dare,” Lucia cut her off sharply. “And besides, that's out until my wedding night, no matter how much I like him. And anyway, he's not the kind of man who'd take advantage.”

“How do you know that?” Tal asked, remembering that was almost exactly what Antonia Delgado had said.

“I just do,” Lucia shrugged. “I can't explain it or I would, but I know.” She paused for a moment, her face thoughtful.

“Have you ever met someone and knew, right away, what kind of person they were?” she asked her bodyguard slash 'attendant'. “I mean you just knew that it was someone that was supposed to be there. Be a part of your life.”

“Not like that, no,” Tal shook her head. “But I do know what you mean,” she admitted.

“Well, there you go,” Lucia said firmly. “The night he rescued me, I snuck into his room and spent the night. Did you know that?”

“I had heard something to that effect,” Tal replied a bit evasively.

“Best night's sleep I've ever had,” Lucia grinned at her. “Snuggled up to his side, I was absolutely convinced of two things. One; I was supposed to be there. I mean as in there is no other place for me than by his side. I'm supposed to be there, or he's supposed to be here with me. Period. I'm as sure of it as I am that your new underwear will come in handy sometime soon,” she winked and Tal coughed a bit.

“What's the second thing?” she asked, as much to cover her embarrassment as to get the information.

“That I'd never be safer anywhere than I was right there,” Lucia's voice grew even more firm if that was possible. “I don't know what kind of male influence you grew up with Talitha, but having Jerome Delgado as a father sort of makes it hard for the boys to measure up,” she said frankly.

“I can imagine,” Tal said honestly. Jerome Delgado was about as masculine a figure as you could find anywhere. A man's man, as her own grandfather would have said with an approving tone.

“Well, Galen doesn't have that problem,” Lucia told her flatly. “Not only is he all man, but he doesn't feel even the slightest need to prove it to anyone. Watch him walk sometime when you get the chance. There's no swagger, no strut, no anything. It's more of a 'here I am' kind of thing. He doesn't care what you think of him, and won't go an inch out of his way to change your opinion of him, either. He doesn't care that my father is one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, or that my family is one of the richest. Didn't even try to molest me, even a little, when I was sleeping next to him, practically laying on top of him.”

Talitha wasn't sure Lucia's tone was approving or remorseful over that last point, and had to fight down a smile.

“I've been chased after all my life, sometimes by men my father's age, just because of who my parents are,” Lucia continued, not noticing Talitha's struggle with her facial expressions. “By boys my age, their parents wanting them to 'marry up', and by lecherous oldsters who were trying to find a good retirement plan,” her tone grew contemptuous at that. “Sean Galen is none of the above. And, he makes my breathing go funny and my heart race just being next to him,” she admitted, her face growing hot. “He's the man for me, Talitha. I'm as certain as I can be. And I'm going to get him, one way or another,” she declared firmly.

“Whether he likes it or not?” Tal raised an amused eyebrow.

“So you do know what I mean then,” Lucia nodded, completely serious. “I'll keep at it until he sees reason.”

“Reason being that he should give up his life of crime and settle down with you somewhere to have two point three kids and a house with a picket fence,” Talitha declared, just short of laughing.

“Laugh all you want,” Lucia refused to rise to the bait. “You'll see. He will be mine.” Her voice was firm with conviction. She was set on her course and nothing would make her veer away. Nothing.

“You know what?” Talitha looked at her charge with a new respect, impressed with her determination if not her reasoning. “I believe you just might get it done, too.”

“Believe it,” the girl nodded firmly. “Believe it. Now I have to get ready to go. And you should too.”

-

“Having a good time?” Linc asked as he and Meredith prepared to see a show near their hotel.

“I am,” she nodded firmly. “It's a rare treat and I'm enjoying the time with you and away from everyone else.”

“Good,” Linc nodded. “It's not good for us to always be cooped up on the ship with too little privacy and too much stress. We need some down time to enjoy life just a little.”

“I enjoy being in the black, Lincoln,” Meredith semi-protested. “You know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Linc nodded again. “I also know that too much vacuum is not good for you. And that ship will get awfully small once we hit space again. Three months direct to Liberty Vale? No stops in between? The bulkheads will be closing in on us by the time we get there, Mere. And there's a cargo already waiting on us when we get there, so there won't be much down time. I'd suggest at least twenty-four hours liberty for the crew though. Let them burn away some of that pent up energy before we begin the return leg.”

“Are you tired of being on the ship Lincoln?” Meredith asked suddenly.

“No, that's not what I'm saying at all,” Lincoln shook his head. “What I am tired of is that ship being our entire life. Of everything we do being centered around the Celia. Our lives should be centered around us. The Celia should part of our lives, not our entire existence. Hence, nights like this,” he smiled. “Times like this when we're doing things that married couples normally do.”

“You don't think we're a normal couple?” Meredith frowned.

“Of course not,” Lincoln replied calmly. “When's the last time we got together with friends or neighbors for dinner? Maybe a cookout, watching a game, playing cards, things like that.”

“Well, I. . .I mean we don't really have any neighbors, Lincoln,” she almost stammered. “And friends-”

“Are hard to come by when you practically live in space,” Lincoln finished for her. “We don't have a normal life, Mere. And that's fine, so long as we take some time for ourselves to be as normal as we can, even if it's just a forty-eight hour leave like this. See what I mean?”

“I never knew that was how you felt,” Meredith admitted suddenly. “I always thought you enjoyed being with me on the Celia.”

“Don't start that,” Lincoln warned. “I in no way said I was unhappy or didn't enjoy my time with you on the Celia. I said that we deserve, we owe it to ourselves in fact, to do things like this that normal couples do. To give us a bit of life outside the hull of a freighter that is essentially our home. Since we don't have neighbors, and don't really have any friends in the traditional sense, we need to take every opportunity we get to enjoy what normalcy we can. And we are,” he indicated the theater they were standing in line for.

“So you are happy being with me on the ship?” Meredith asked.

“I am indeed,” Lincoln replied firmly. “I'm not dissatisfied with how we live, Mere, so long as we don't forget to actually live while we're doing it. We can't make the Celia everything. We have to make each other everything, and the Celia is just a bonus. We're extraordinarily lucky in that we have her to start with. We manage to make a good living and do so together, going where we want within reason, and doing as we please because we're our own boss, so to speak. But that doesn't mean that we don't need a life outside her hull. Like tonight. Like last night,” he added lecherously and Meredith actually blushed slightly.

“All right,” she nodded slowly. “I think I'm seeing what you mean. It's like why we used to issue liberty whenever we could in the Navy. To give people a chance to let off some steam.”

“Exactly!” Lincoln beamed. “I want us to do more of this. Set up a schedule of sorts. So much 'liberty' with ever so much time in space. Maybe one three day leave every two months or so. We can't have a strict schedule of course since we never know where we'll be, but we can average it out. Like taking another leave at Liberty Vale for instance. When we finish a long run, we give the crew seventy-two hours of leave to have fun. And that includes us. Fair?” he asked her, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, that is fair,” she agreed with a nod. “And I enjoy these 'leaves' with you,” she smiled as she kissed him gently. “It is nice to have you to myself and not be surrounded by the crew.”

“Now you're getting it,” Linc grinned.

“I will be later,” she winked impishly. “But you owe me dinner first.”

“A fair trade if ever I heard one,” Lincoln assured her. “Done.”

-

“So how long have you been in space?”

Nita Callaveri hadn't actually asked Faulks too much about herself, so Faulks didn't really mind the few things she did ask. The two were ambling along one of the major thoroughfares in Porto San Lucia, Anita occasionally pointing out items of interest.

“Since I was wounded,” she replied without much thought. “After I rehabbed, there was no place for me in my old unit so I went into space. Where I met the Cap'n,” she added.

“Wounded?” Nita frowned. “Is that where the big scar came from?”

“One of them,” Faulks nodded. “The other came when our ship came under fire. Cap'n got hurt too,  but a lot worse than me. She as invalided out and I followed her when she got her own boat. Anyway, I've been with the Cap'n one way or another since I went into the black.”

“The black,” Nita mused. “I've heard others say that. It's a common term for people who work in space. How come?” there was genuine interest in her voice, Faulks decided.

“Ever been in space?” she asked. Nita shook her head. “Well, it's dark,” Faulks continued with a grin. “And I mean dark. You're moving between systems and sometimes there's no light at all other than what the ship emits, and in the darkness of vacuum that ain't much. Most stars are a long way off until you come outta hyper in their system. Even then the light isn't much until you hit somewhere with atmo. I guess there's some kind of sciency explanation for that, but I don't know what it is.”

“It's the light refracting off the atmosphere,” Nita supplied. “The oxygen in the air, among other things, amplifies the light.”

“Is that right?” Faulks was impressed. “See, I learned something,” she smiled yet again.

“Ah, just something I learned in school,” Nita shrugged. “Anyway, sounds like you've been at it a while.”

“I have,” Faulks agreed. “What do you do, anyway?” she changed the subject.

“I'm an artist,” Nita replied. “And I work at an art gallery, too. Sort of a win-win, I guess,” she shrugged.

“What do you paint?” Faulks asked, genuinely interested. She hadn't pegged the other woman that way at all.

“Depends,” Nita shrugged. “I do a lot of portraits, for one thing. There are a lot of old world type families here and they want family and individual portraits of their family members for their homes, so I do a lot of those. I paint landscapes for my own pleasure, along with historical items. Not much history like that here, really, but I take scenes from like Earth history and what have you. And I've done a couple of paintings about First Landing here on San Lucia, too. Things like that.”

“Nice,” Faulks nodded. Nita was getting more interesting all the time. Not a bad way to spend leave at all, she decided.

-

“Well, I didn't expect to spend my leave getting my ass handed to me,” Jessica panted as they took a break from her 'training'.

“Everyone starts somewhere,” Sean shrugged. “And you're a lot older than I was when I started. It takes longer, the older you are when you begin.”

“Are you saying I'm old?” Jess demanded with mock annoyance.

“No, I'm saying I was four when I started,” Sean chuckled. “You have to admit you're a bit older than that, Jess.”

“True,” the girl smiled back. “All right, I forgive you.”

“For saying you're old or 'handing you ass to you'?” Sean asked, grinning back at her.

“Both!” she laughed outright then. “What now?”

“Let's take a couple mats down and make some padding, then see if you can duplicate that knife throwing you did last night. Think you can?”

“Yes,” she answered seriously. “It seems crazy I know but once I do something, I can remember how I did it and replicate it later. It's like once I've got it, it's mine for life.”

“Then lets test that,” Sean told her.

-

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Lucia demanded, giving Talitha the stink eye.

“I haven't asked you that exact question yet,” Tal pointed out. “All I'm asking is have you thought this through. That's all.”

“Yes, I have,” Lucia assured her. “He gets one chance to do the right thing on his own. After that, it's my way from then on.”

“You know, he just might be as stubborn as you are,” Tal warned.

“And what does that mean?” Lucia's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“He may say 'no', and ignore you from then on just to be stubborn,” Tal shrugged. “Are you prepared for that?”

“He won't ignore me,” Lucia said confidently. “If this doesn't work, then it's plan B and he won't have any other choices. And really? I'm not sure that I don't prefer Plan B myself in all honesty.”

“Plan B is risky too,” Tal reminded her. “In more ways than one.”

“Well, if it is Plan B, it's his fault, not mine,” Lucia declared. “Now lets go.”

“All right, all right,” Tal sighed as she signaled to the others. The lead and chase cars loaded as the driver and shotgun rider climbed into Lucia's car.

“To the port,” she said simply as the window between the front and back started up. “Dock D.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

-

Space docks, at least on the more wealthy and advanced planets such as San Lucia, were laid out much as old Earth water docks had once been, albeit on a grander scale. No one wanted to be near a freighter as it went full thruster to lift off the ground fully loaded and clawing for altitude. Typically, the docks were separated by some distance, though from the air it probably didn't look it. San Lucia's docks were extensive, as befit both a major planetary capital and a major shipping hub. Like other major planets there was more than one dock, but only one like the Porto San Lucia's.

Mile upon square mile of hard pads and harder roads formed a web-like pattern of landing sites and access avenues. Larger ships were sent to the larger docks further out into the port, while smaller ships such as the Celia shared one of the many pads on each honey-comb shaped 'dock' arm.

D Dock consisted of seven such honeycombs, each of which could play host to five ships and still allow plenty of room for safe take-off and landing as well as loading and unloading of multiple cargoes at one time. Benefiting from an ample tax base and a steady flow of landing, transient and service fees, the Port Authority at Porto San Lucia was a very nice facility.

Seeing what was clearly an armored car being escorted by two other vehicles was not an uncommon sight at the port or anywhere else on San Lucia for that matter, so Lucia's car did not immediately attract a great deal of notice. Once the cars stopped at the gate to be identified however, the news that the Delgado heiress was in the port spread like wildfire all over the grounds. First to security, then to various ships that happened to have a port representative on board at the time, and finally to others who had no need to know, courtesy of bribes and favors owed to various people who wanted to know what was happening all the time.

One such interested party was Terase Falcone and her two remaining sons as they and what remained of their entourage prepared to head into space, fleeing from the disaster of a few days past. Learning of who was visiting was almost more than the old woman could stand, and it took all her willpower not to rush the procession and kill the girl and as many of her people as she could. Instead, she merely asked to be informed of where the procession carried the Delgado Princess.

-

“This is it, miss,” the driver said as he stopped the car in the area behind the Celia. “Do they expect us?”

“No,” Tal sighed. “We'll have to go up and introduce ourselves I'm afraid. C'mon Lucia,” she opened the door.

“I go alone from here,” Lucia shook her head, but Talitha responded to that by simply closing the door and locking all doors to the vehicle via remote.

“What are you doing?!” Lucia demanded, sputtering.

“My job,” Tal said simply. “There is no way you're going anywhere out in the open or anywhere else alone,” she said flatly. “Not. Going. To happen. The chase car has already moved to the far side of the ship to provide security, the rest are here, and I'm going with you, with them,” a finger jabbed at the front seat, “for back-up. They won't be close enough to hear or interfere, but they are going, or you're not. And I'm not going to argue about this, or 'make a deal'. I go, we go, or we all go home.”

“Once we leave the grounds I'm the one in charge,” Lucia told her, “and I say you aren't going.”

“Your mother said once we left the grounds that we still work for her, and if you tried to go solo we bring you home. She told you the same thing and before you try to deny it please remember that I was standing there when she did.”

Lucia deflated abruptly at that, her pout remaining.

“Fine!” she grumped. “Let me out, then.”

Talitha nodded to the men in front who got out and formed a small barrier at Lucia's door. Talitha followed her out, straightening her suit as she did so.

“Left and right, but give her some room,” Tal ordered, and the two men nodded, spreading out to cover the flanks as Talitha accompanied Lucia to the airlock entrance of the Celia. Lucia looked at Tal as they approached the hatch.

“Do you have to be right here on top of me?” she all but demanded.

“Yep,” Tal's response was simple, not bothered in the least by her primary's attitude.

“Fine,” Lucia grumped and hit the buzzer by the airlock door.

-

“Wonder who that is?” Jess frowned as the airlock alarm sounded. “Anyone from the crew would be able to open the door on their own.”

“I'll check it,” Sean shrugged. “Go ahead and start,” he nodded toward the target. “See if you can repeat your performance at the shop. It's a handy talent to have, sometimes.”

“Okay.” Jessica turned back to the target as Sean moved across the bay to the airlock. Even as he did the buzzer sounded again.

“Someone's in a hurry,” he murmured.

-

“What the hell is taking so long?” Lucia demanded to no one in particular.

“You know, there might not be anyone here, for one thing,” Talitha reminded her. “And whoever is here might be well forward. It may take a minute or two for them to get down here.”

“There should be someone at the door to greet visitors!” Lucia protested.

“I would imagine ships like this one get very few visitors, Lucia, and none of them without prior notice. It's a freighter, not a liner.” Talitha's voice was calm and reasoning, which just made Lucia that much more put out.

“Still, when you're in port you should expect visitors!” she grumped again. “What if someone wanted to hire them for instance?”

“Then they would go through a broker,” Talitha pointed out. “That's how it's done, Lucia. People with freight hire a broker, who then negotiates with ships for good rates and scheduled delivery.”

“That's no excuse to not have-” Lucia's words were cut off as the airlock began to cycle. It was clear that the inner door was open already since the ship was on the ground. They heard the locks disengage on the outer door and suddenly Sean Galen was standing there.

“Can I help. . .you,” his question trailed away as he realized who was standing there. “Lucia,” he sighed, managing not to shake his head.

“Sean Galen,” the girl smiled sweetly despite her ire from only seconds before. “How are you?”

“I'm fine,” Sean replied flatly. “How are you?” he asked, just to be polite and give himself some time. He recognized the woman with Lucia right away as the security officer who had given him a ride into the city the night he'd killed Lucia's brother, Roberto.

“I'm great!” Lucia smiled brightly. “Aren't you going to invite me in?” she asked, hands going to her hips.

“Why would I do that?” Sean asked her, though politely. “Why would you want to be on the ship?”

“Well, I did come to visit you,” Lucia mock pouted, refusing to let Sean Galen's attitude get to her. “And this is the ship my older brother works on, so why wouldn't I want a tour?”

“Do you realize that no one else on this ship besides me knows he's your brother?” Sean asked her gently. “He doesn't use his real name here, Lucia. Doesn't want anyone to know who he is. You want to ruin that for him by announcing you're his sister and this is his home planet?”

“Why wouldn't he use his real name?” Lucia looked shocked.

“Doesn't want the attention, I guess,” Sean shrugged. “And you letting his secret out might make it hard on him, too. You should think about that.”

“Well, just tell whoever else is here that I came to see you, then!” Lucia beamed. “That is the truth, after all.”

“And how do I explain knowing you to the others?” Sean asked reasonably. “Can you think of a single reason why the heiress of the most powerful family on this planet if not in this entire sector would know the engineer of a small time independent freighter? Let alone visit said freighter to see him?”

“It's not really any of their business, is it?” Lucia huffed, beginning to get angry.

“It's not my ship, so if I bring someone aboard, then yeah, it's their business,” Sean tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable.

“You don't seem happy to see me, Sean Galen,” Lucia all but accused. “Why is that?”

“I'm not happy or unhappy, Lucia, just surprised,” he replied evenly. “Why would you want to come here anyway?”

“To see you, of course!” Lucia scowled. “I told you that you wouldn't be rid of me so easy, Sean Galen, and I meant it!” She might as well have stomped her foot on the ground to emphasize her point, such was her petulant tone.

“I wasn't trying to be rid of you, Lucia,” Sean sighed. “You make it sound like I threw you away and that's not what happened. I was completely truthful with you from the start. Nothing I said was wrong or inaccurate. The last thing a girl like you needs is someone like me around her.”

“Stop calling me girl!” Lucia all but yelled, her patience at an end. “I told you I'm a grown woman!”

“Then act like it for the Spirit's sake!” he shot back without thinking. “Stop acting like a spoiled princess who wants her way no matter what. You do that and I might start treating you like a grown up!”

Talitha was having to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how casually Sean Galen was dealing with Lucia. Anyone else would be kowtowing to her because of her family's influence, but not this man. She revised her opinion of Galen upward, as well as her opinion of Lucia (yet again). The fact that Lucia was going after a man that she couldn't brow beat said something about her maturity that her behavior didn't show. Or at least didn't allow to be seen.

And Sean Galen just might good for Lucia, she decided suddenly. Maybe Antonia Delgado had the right idea after all.

“I am not spoiled!” Lucia shot back even as Talitha's thoughts ran through her mind. “I am determined! There's a difference!”

“Like the difference between breaking into someone's room and using a key to get inside without asking, you mean?” Sean shot back. “That kind of difference?”

“That's not fair!” Lucia's face reddened, her voice falling softer. “Using that against me! I told you I was just scared!”

Sean stopped short at that declaration, realizing that he had perhaps hurt the girl.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Look,” he tried to sound calm. “This isn't the place for you, Lucia. Even with all these guys with you, it's not a good place for you to be. You know that, I'm sure, and I'm equally sure she explained it to you,” he indicated Talitha, who silently nodded her agreement.

“Stop telling me that,” Lucia's voice was suddenly deadly calm. “I will not allow those people to dictate how I live my life, Sean Galen. I might have been scared, I might still be scared, but I'm not going to let that fear drive me under a rock to live my life. If I do, then they win regardless. I won't allow that.”

He quiet declaration brought Sean up short yet again. Every time he thought he had her figured out, Lucia Delgado managed to surprise him. Every time. There was something unsettling about that.

“If I give you a tour of the ship will you go home?” he asked her, trying to keep the defeat he was feeling out of his voice.

“I'm not here to make any deals,” Lucia told him flatly, using Talitha's line easily. “I'm here to see you. To talk to you. If you give me a tour, and talk to me like a grown up, then I might leave, yes. But I won't promise not to be back tomorrow. Or anything else for that matter,” she clarified as Sean started to speak again.

Sean looked at Talitha with a look of helplessness on his face that she well understood. Her only reply was a helpless shrug of her own. The message was clear.

You're on your own, buddy.

“Then come on in,” Sean caved in. Letting her inside was easier than leaving her standing outside where she was an easy target, at least. “But remember that no one knows you're Tony's sister, or what his real name is. I want your word you'll keep it that way, or else you can stand here until we leave and I won't speak to you again, like a grown up or anything else. You agree to that?”

She was tempted to repeat her 'no deals' line, but thought better of it after seeing the look on his face. She was getting what she wanted, at least partly. That would have to do for now. And it was better than she had expected after all.

“Agreed,” she nodded. “They won't find out from me. We'll tell everyone we met the first night you were on planet. That is the truth, after all.”

“All right,” Sean agreed. He slid the hatchway open further to allow Lucia and Talitha to enter the ship. Tal motioned for the others to stay put and then followed Lucia inside.

-

Jessica looked back without thinking when she heard the hatch shut.

“Who was. . .it?” she paused before finishing, surprised to see two smartly dressed young women entering the bay behind Sean.

“Jess, this is a friend of mine, Lucy,” he waved to the youngest and sharpest dressed, “and her assistant,” he indicated the woman in the business suit. “I forgot that I had promised Lucy a tour of the ship if she wanted it, and she does. Why not keep working on your skills while I see to this, and then we'll pick up where we left off?”

“Sure,” Jessica nodded, her mind filing away the two women's faces and features without conscious thought. “Enjoy the tour,” she smiled at the two women in a friendly manner. The older woman returned the smile, albeit reservedly, while the younger woman, 'Lucy', looked far less friendly despite her attempt at appearing to smile back.

“Thank you,” 'Lucy' managed not to bite her words off as Sean took her by the arm and led her toward the steps.

“What was that about?” Jessica overheard, though Sean's voice was so low that she doubted he would think she had heard him.

“Nothing,” 'Lucy' shot back, just shy of short.

“So you're just normally rude to people you've only just met then. Is that it?” was the last thing she heard before they moved out of hearing. Jessica shook her head and went back to her target.

You met all kinds of people traveling in space it seemed.

-

“I wasn't rude,” Lucia insisted as she climbed the stairs with Sean, Talitha following.

“Yes, you were,” Sean insisted. “For no reason, either. Jess was very nice to you. She's one of the nicest people I know, especially considering how tough she's had it of late.”

“'Jess', is it?” Lucia demanded, eyeing him strangely, Sean thought. “I thought her name was Jessica.”

“And how would you know that?” Sean asked, frowning. “It is, but she prefers Jess, so that's what we use.”

“Tony must have told me,” Lucia shrugged, feigning indifference.

“You promised not to mention that,” Sean stopped short, looking at her. “Are you breaking your promise already?”

“No!” Lucia barely managed to keep from sputtering. “Won't happen again,” she crossed her chest with her index finger, prompting both Talitha and Sean to roll their eyes at the childish gesture.

“That was the cargo bay,” he told her with a sigh. “Through here is the galley,” he led the two women through the hatchway off the landing and into the passageway toward the galley. “These are passenger rooms,” he indicated the hatches to either side of the hallway as they went. “We rarely use them, truthfully, but these bunks are separated from the crew quarters by the galley and the lounge.”

“Why?” Lucia asked.

“These were originally crew quarters too,” Sean told her. “The Celia was built to have a larger crew but doesn't need one as a freighter, so all the crew bunks forward.” They exited the passageway into the wider galley.

“This is our galley, and over there is the kitchen,” he pointed to an open doorway. “Tony works there, he's the cook as well as the medic aboard ship. And through there,” he pointed to the left, “is the lounge.” He guided them toward the lounge area, allowing them to see the ship's recreational area.

“Crew and passengers use this area, when we do have passengers,” he told them. “There's a fairly large digital library, as well as the exercise machines and the screen is for watching vids and playing a few games we keep. There's a common head and shower area over there,” he pointed to the small alcove off the lounge.

“This is pretty small,” Lucia mused. “Must get awful crowded around here out in space.”

“We don't spend a lot of time in here because we're usually working,” he reminded her. “It's plenty big enough for the down time we do have. More than serves its purpose,” he assured her.

“Where do you work?” she asked suddenly, smiling brightly.

“That area's off limits to everyone but crew,” he told her. “So is the bridge.”

“Oh, come on, don't be that way!” Lucia cajoled. “It's not like you're in space at the moment, right? Show a girl where you earn your money!”

Sighing, his head shaking ever so slightly, Sean led the two women back out to the landing and down the passageway to the engine room.

“See?” he pointed to the sign that clearly stated the area was dangerous and therefore off limits. “It's not like I made that up.” He opened the hatch before she could respond and stepped inside. For some reason he was very glad he'd spent the time on the ground cleaning the engine compartment until it gleamed. He knew it would make a good impression.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind he almost kicked himself. Why did he care about making a good impression?

“Nice,” Lucia looked around her, clearly not recognizing a single thing she saw but faking it rather well, she thought. “This is very nice.”

“It looks very ship shape,” Talitha spoke for the first time, and she was clearly not faking her recognition of a well-run engine room. “Well done,” she complimented.

“Thanks,” Sean's reply was almost a grunt. “I spent the time we've been grounded here getting things in good order. Once we're back in the black it will start looking like an engine room again in short order.”

“I'm sure,” Talitha raised an eyebrow at him, politely accusing him of lying. She could tell when someone had it together in one sock, and whatever else Galen might be he was clearly a first-rate engineer.

“I guess you spend a lot of time back here, don't you?” Lucia was saying, walking slowly around the compartment but at least being careful not to touch anything.

“I do work here,” he reminded her, “so yes, I do. This isn't my only duty but it's by far the most important.”

“What else do you do?” she asked.

“I stand a bridge watch when we're in deep space,” he told her.

“Oh, well let's see that, then!” she brightened.

“That's off limits,” Sean tried, knowing it was doomed to fail.

“Are we going to have to go through that every time?” Lucia mock pouted. “You aren't in space so where's the harm?”

“Fine,” Sean sighed, leading the two out of the engineering spaces and securing the hatch once more. He then led them back through the galley and up the forward passageway to the bridge.

“Are these crew quarters?” Lucia asked as they traversed through the hatches in the forward passage.

“Yes.”

“Which one's yours?” she asked, in what she fondly imagined was innocent interest.

“What does it matter?” he asked her. “You won't be here to break in.”

“I didn't break in,” she huffed quietly. “You make me sound like a criminal. And I was just curious.”

“That one,” Sean pointed to his hatch in resignation. “That's Tony's,” he added, pointing to one further on.

“Nice,” Lucia sounded almost disinterested. At least she thought so. Sean shot her a questioning glance which Lucia chose to pretend she didn't see. Talitha saw it though, and again had to fight off a laugh. Lucia thought she was so sharp, but nothing much got past Galen it seemed. Antonia Delgado had been right about that as well.

They made a short, sharp turn and suddenly the passageway opened up into a wider area that very nearly spanned the width of the ship.

“This is the bridge,” Sean said without fanfare. “Pilot's seat,” he pointed to each chair in turn, “co-pilot, navigation, engineer.”

“You have a seat here too?” she asked.

“It's for the bridge crew to see repeaters of the engine stats,” he explained. “The crew chief on a larger crew, one using the ship as an ore hauler for example, would sit there and watch for trouble as the ship hopped in and out of atmosphere. No one really uses the seat anymore, but the repeater gauges are good for the bridge watch.”

“I see,” Lucia nodded as if that meant anything to her and Sean barely managed not to snort in laughter.

“What's so funny?”

Or thought he had, anyway.

“You are,” he replied to Lucia's question honestly. “Trying to act like you know the first thing I've shown you. What it's for or what is does either. That's not really unusual, since most people who don't work on a ship know almost nothing about it other than it goes into space. But you're doing your best to act like you do and it's funny to watch.”

“Stop making fun of me!” Lucia demanded, arms crossing beneath her breasts. “I'm just trying to show interest in what you do, that's all!”

“Why?” he asked her. “You're never see this again anyway.”

“That doesn't mean I can't try and show interest in it now,” Lucia grumbled, barely catching herself from shooting her mouth off. Again.

“I guess that's true,” Sean sighed. “Well, that's actually about all there is to see, really,” he added. “You came up through the cargo bay. I can show you the infirmary on the way out if you want, since that's where Tony works when someone's injured. Other than that, it's all service panels and pathways, none of which are accessible the way you're dressed, and not safe to prowl in anyway.”

“That didn't take long,” Lucia's voice was both disappointed and accusatory at the same time.

“There's not much to see,” Sean raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “It's just a small freighter, Lucia. It's not a liner or yacht. It's purpose built for deep space work and not creature comforts. Every inch of space on this ship is utilized in some way, even if it's just to hold air.”

“It's different than I expected,” the girl sighed. “I thought it would be bigger.”

“That's what they all say,” Sean managed to say with a straight face, but sent Talitha Jameson into a fit of coughing just the same.

“What does that mean?” Lucia asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at her 'attendant'.

“Ships always look bigger from the outside,” Sean shrugged, careful to keep the grin he was feeling off his face.

Lucia knew she was the butt of some kind of joke, and that Tal had gotten it when she didn't, but her pride refused to allow her to ask any more.

“Well, lead on to this infirmary,” she decided to say imperiously, as if she were doing Sean a favor by following him through the ship. “We can look at your room on the way down.”

“That's not going to happen,” Sean's joking manner left him at once. “Not even the Captain sees my bunk, and she owns the ship.” His tone left no room for argument, and Lucia's 'adorable pout' mode bounced off him as if he were a bulkhead.

“Well,” Lucia tossed her head. “Be that way then.”

“C'mon,” he told the two, leading them back down toward the aft of the ship and the infirmary, which was on the landing behind the passenger bunk rooms. The room was antiseptically clean, sterile and bright, just like a hospital room.

“Poor Tony,” Lucia said softly. “He makes it as much like a hospital as he can,” she sighed.

“We're lucky to have him,” Sean said honestly. “Most ships this small do good to have a medic at all, let alone someone with his training. If he hadn't been here when Linc got hurt, I don't know if even surgery could have saved his sight.”

“He always does everything as best as he can,” Lucia nodded. “He doesn't know any other way.”

“Like I said, we're lucky to have him,” Sean nodded. “And this is pretty much everything there is to see,” he ended the tour. “You can actually get a better idea of the cargo bay from the landing on your way out. Come on and I'll show you,” he led them back to the small landing overlooking the bay.

“Larger than it looks from down there,” Talitha spoke as they looked out over the cavernous bay.

“Yeah, it is,” Sean agreed. “When you see it full, you realize just how much this ship can haul, despite her size.”

Thump. Thump.

“What's that?” Lucia asked, frowning.

“Probably Jess practicing with her knives,” Sean told her. “That's what we were doing when you got here. Training.”

“Sounds like she's throwing?” Tal said, looking at Sean.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She found a really nice pair of blades at a mall in town last night and is trying them out.”

“You were at the mall?” Lucia asked. “Out on a date?” she tried to sound like she was teasing.

“Something like that,” Sean said absently, not wanting to give away Jessica's odd quirks to someone outside the crew. He didn't notice the chilly look that came over Lucia at his reply.

“How long you two been together?” Talitha asked, noticing her primary's look and trying to disarm the situation.

“Together?” Sean frowned. “Me and Jessica? We aren't together at all, other than we work together. What made you think that?”

“You said date, so I assumed it from there,” Tal shrugged easily. She was far better at lying than Lucia was.

“Oh, no, it was just a dinner date kind of thing. Away from the ship on leave. We've all been working hard last week or so and we'll be shipping out in less than forty-eight hours. No one wanted to stay on the ship so we decided to get something to eat and just look around. Ended up at this big mall, and they had a knife shop and first thing you know she's bought a knife. Knives, really,” he added as they heard the thunk, thunk, of knives impacting a target again.

“Ah,” Talitha nodded, hoping Lucia would appreciate what she'd just done for her.

“So you and Jess aren't an item, huh?” Lucia asked, back to trying to feign disinterest.

“No, Lucia, we're not an item,” Sean gave a long-suffering sigh. “Who even says 'item' anymore outside a bad romance novel?”

“Read many bad romance novels, have you, Sean Galen?” Lucia gave as good as she got when she wasn't off keel. Her smirk was actually kind of cute, he had to admit.

Dammit, why did I think that?

“A few, when I get the time,” he shrugged. “You talk like you've read most of them.”

“Hmmph,” Lucia grumped, looking up and away to hide her grin. Talitha fought again not to roll her eyes. This was worse than watching one of those cheesy telenovelas that were all the rage again on the HD. Lucia was deliberately trying to amp Galen up. Talitha wondered if Lucia realized the fire she was playing with, then remembered the story of Galen and the Delgado brother returning with her, Galen covered in blood. She had watched him kill at least one man to rescue her.

She probably had at least some idea the fire that was lurking there.

“Anyway, you've seen the ship,” Sean mentioned again.

“So I have,” Lucia gave a long-suffering sigh of her own. “You aren't going to do this the easy way, are you Sean Galen?” she said plainly, pretense gone. Sean was instantly wary and it showed.

“What does that mean?” he asked. In near trepidation if Talitha was any judge. Smart man.

“I've given you every chance to change your mind about getting to know me better,” Lucia told him flatly. “For me to get to know you better. I came here today to try one more time to do this the easy way. The simple way,” she stressed. “But you aren't really one for doing things the easy way, are you Sean Galen?”

“Why do you use both my names every time?” he asked her, temporizing. Her sudden change had thrown him a little.

“Don't change the subject, Sean Galen,” Lucia didn't bite. “Fine. I'll go, since I did say I would probably leave. You haven't completely talked to me like a grown up but I sort of pushed you by not acting like one to see what you would do, so I'll let that pass.”

“That's awfully gracious of you,” Sean's sarcasm wasn't really biting, but more teasing. Playful even, Tal decided.

“Yes, it is,” Lucia was more serious. “Just remember Sean Galen, that I gave you this chance. I gave you the opportunity to do this the easy way. Whatever happens now, it's on you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sean's bewilderment was in no way feigned.

“Just remember,” Lucia repeated, shaking her head as she walked down the stairs followed closely by her attendant. When she reached the bottom of the stair into the cargo bay, she paused, looking to where Jessica stood watching, blades in hand.

“I apologize if I was short with you when we came aboard,” she said earnestly. “I admit I had hoped to catch Sean here by himself so that I could have him all to myself. I was disappointed that I didn't and I took it out on you. That was wrong and I am sorry. Please don't hold it against me, and I promise not to let it happen again.”

“Okay,” Jess nodded. “No problem. What did you think of the ship?” she asked, working to be friendly.

“It's beautiful,” Lucia replied easily. “I can see why all of you enjoy it so much. And it must be invigorating to have that kind of freedom, moving from planet to planet all the time.”

“I never thought of it in those exact terms, but. . .yeah, now that you mention it, it is,” Jess nodded. “Of course, Sean does a lot more work than I do,” she smirked. “I'm just a pilot.”

“You are?” Lucia asked. “That must be exciting, too,” she said.

“At times, especially when Lincoln is driving,” she chuckled.

“Lincoln?”

“Her brother-in-law,” Sean cut in smoothly. “Jess is Captain Simmons' younger sister.”

“Oh, that must be great!” Lucia smiled. “Working with family!”

“Working for family,” Jessica corrected with a smile. “She's owns the ship. And never lets me forget it, either,” she laughed.

“You make her sound like a tyrant,” Lucia frowned comically.

“Oh, it's not me that makes her a tyrant,” Jessica grinned. “Meredith does that all on her own!” The two girls shared a laugh and Tal had to fight off a smile yet again. Lucia was much nicer to the girl now that she wasn't a rival.

“Well, we have to be going,” Lucia said to no one in particular. “Lots to do and what have you. I'll see you later, Sean Galen,” she waved serenely as she and Tal headed for the airlock. He followed them, opening the hatch to let them step outside.

“What kind of threat are you making, Lucia?” he demanded once out of Jessica's hearing.

“Threat?” butter wouldn't melt in the heiress' mouth. “Why, I'm not making any threats, Sean Galen,” she placed a hand against her bosom in best melodramatic fashion. “I made you a good old fashioned promise,” her fake tone dried up in an instant. “You won't be rid of me so easy, and you won't put me off forever. From now on, we do things the hard way.” With that she spun on her heels and started for the car.

“She's not making any threats,” Talitha felt honor bound to tell him. “She's not. Don't misunderstand her determination to get your attention as a threat, okay?” She didn't want to hurt this man that Lucia was so fond of.

“Oh, she's got my attention,” he told her flatly. “And that's not always a good thing,” he added darkly.

“Don't say something you'll regret,” Talitha semi-warned and Galen did something then that caught her completely by surprise.

He laughed right in her face. It was a harsh, flat sound that had no humor in it at all.

“You must not have spoken to her mother about me,” he told her.

“She mentioned you,” Talitha frowned. “And I remember you, too,” she added.

“Thought you might,” he surprised her again. “Do yourself a favor and don't do or say anything you'll regret,” he added firmly. “You don't know me, miss, or the first thing about me. Now your charge is waiting on you,” he nodded behind her.

“She's not threatening you,” Talitha tried once more. “She wants your attention and is determined to get it. In a good way. At the least she's infatuated with you and it could be more than that. Don't read more into what she said than that.”

“Good day, miss,” Sean told her before slamming the hatch in her face, his voice betraying his anger. Shaking her head, Tal joined Lucia at the car.

“What was that all about?” Lucia demanded at once.

“You basically threatened him, whether you realized it or not,” Talitha said at once. “I was trying to smooth that over and ensure that he doesn't see you as a threat, Lucia. He's the type to come after you if he thinks you are. I don't want to hurt him when he does.”

For the second time in five minutes, someone laughed in Talitha Jameson's face.

-

“Where did you meet her?” Jessica asked as soon as Sean came back inside.

“I met her after Tony and I left the restaurant where we saw you guys that first night here,” he said truthfully. “She's a handful,” he added, shaking his head.

“She really likes you, Sean,” Jessica told him seriously.

“Yeah, I suppose,” he said absently, then realized what he'd said. “I mean, don't take it too seriously,” he avoided stammering. “She's just used to getting what she wants, that's all. I'm probably the first person to ever tell her no other than her parents. And they apparently didn't tell her that often enough.”

“It's just an act,” Jess told him. “She's prodding you, that's all. She wants some kind of reaction from you and is doing anything she can think of to get it. Proves she likes you more than a little, too,” she added slyly.

“Jess, you know why that can't be,” he said tiredly.

“I know why you think it can't,” she nodded sadly. “But you might be wrong, too, Sean. Ever think of that?”

“I've prayed for it,” he told her bluntly, and immediately wondered yet again why he found himself being so truthful with her and telling her things he normally wouldn't admit under torture. “Doesn't do any good, though,” he continued, having started. “My family is still dead, I'm still hunted, and there are a lot of dead people behind me.”

“How many?” she asked suddenly. He sensed there was more to her question than morbid curiosity.

“I don't know, exactly,” he replied honestly. “I'd have to count.”

“How can you do that?” she asked, truly interested.

“I'd have to count them up,” he tried to evade her, but knew it was doomed to fail.

“So you do remember them, then?”

“Something like that,” he nodded. “And it's not something I really enjoy talking about, either,” he told her, his voice colder than he'd intended, but conveying his message clearly.

“Sorry,” she said softly. “I was prying, but really didn't intend to. My point was that maybe no one really cares about that so much these days, that's all.”

“There was a hundred thousand cred bounty on my head at the end of the war, Jess,” Sean said softly. “Largest war bounty ever offered they tell me. No one forgets something like that.”

“Time moves on, Sean, and people do too,” she shrugged.

“People remember what was taken from them, too,” he told her. “Look how long Faulks carried all that hate for me over her friends,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, and look how she changed when she found out the truth,” she shot right back. “I'm not trying to change your mind,” she raised a hand to ward off any more ripostes. “I'm just saying that maybe you don't have to deny yourself something you really want, that's all. Just. . .allow yourself to think about it at least. You deserve that if nothing else.”

“I have thought about it,” he told her. “In my culture, a man raising a family is one of the most important things he can do. Man or a woman. Carrying on your lineage, passing your traditions down to the next generation. Leaving your name for your sons and daughters. All of that was taken from me, though,” he said softly. “There's nowhere for me to raise my sons and daughters, and no heritage to leave them. Nothing is left except me.”

“I am truly sorry,” Jessica said gently. “Why don't we quit for today?” she offered. “It's not like we won't have a long trip to do this kind of thing during, right?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I don't need this crap running around my head right now, and this is the best way to get rid of it. Show me what you can do,” he forced a smile on his face.

“Okay,” her reluctance was plain, but she agreed. “Check it out.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

-

The crew of the Celia spent the last night of their leave in different ways. Lincoln and Meredith left the privacy of their hotel only once the entire day, for Lincoln to take Meredith to eat and then to a movie. The rest of the time they spent alone, enjoying the privacy that married couples often craved but couldn't always find on a ship in space.

Faulks spent the rest of her leave with Nita Callaveri, surprised at how well she got on with the other woman. They were nothing alike, and yet. . .for some reason that was okay. Faulks actually found herself dreading the time when the Celia would depart, knowing the odds were short that she'd be back this way. For the first time in many years, Carolyn Faulks began to think about a future that didn't include Captain Simmons. Or even being in space.

Tony visited with his family one last night, including a family meal with his sister and parents, missing only their brother Luka to make it all of them now that Roberto was gone.

Jessica and Sean spent most of the rest of the day with her knives, including Sean showing her the many uses of the multi-tool he'd gotten her, interrupted late in the afternoon by a detective from the San Lucia Police for a brief interview.

“I'm sorry we haven't gotten back to you before now,” the man told her. “We were waiting to confirm the man's identity and then to see if we got an answer back on whether he was wanted or not. Turns out he's not from here, he's from out toward the mid-tier. Place called Holdens. Ever been there?”

“No sir,” Jess shook her head. “Never even heard of it that I can recall,” she admitted.

“His name is Warren Levins. If his story is true, and I'm starting to think it is, then this really was a case of him mistaking you for someone else. He's a former soldier, been out of service for about five years now. He claims you are the split image of a woman named Genessa Tatum, a woman he served with for three years during the conflict. He was sure you were her, and even now he's not convinced. Claims that the move you put on him was something she would do. Admits he should have known better than to grab you like that,” he added.

“I didn't put a move on him,” Jess said shyly. “I was aiming for his nose and missed,” she looked down as if embarrassed. “He was taller than me and I. . .well I just messed up,” she shrugged.

“Well, lucky shot or not, you tore him up pretty good,” the detective told her. “He's lucky that your shipmate was knowledgeable or he'd be dead according to the docs that fixed him up. He's looking at two surgeries probably to fix him, and his singing career is pretty much over.”

“He was a singer?” Jess looked up in shock. “And I ruined his voice?!”

“I think that was a joke, Jess,” Sean said gently, taking her hand and squeezing gently.

“It was,” the detective nodded. “Poor taste I imagine, and I apologize. It's just. . .well, he really should have known better, good intentions or not. Technically he got what he deserved, even if he didn't have any ill intent. However, having said all that, I need to know if you want charges pressed against him. He may well try at some point to file against you, but. . .there's really nothing he can do, in court. There's vid, physical evidence,” he pointed to where Jessica's arm was still showing a hand shaped bruise, “and witnesses, not to mention it was your shipmate who saved his life. And he's said nothing to me that indicates he's interested in anything other than not getting himself in more trouble.”

“I. . .I really don't want to, I think,” Jessica said haltingly. “I mean, if he really did think I was someone else and wasn't attacking me. . .I mean, I can't imagine anyone attacking a group with Faulks in it!” she exclaimed.

“Boat Chief,” Sean filled in for the puzzled detective. “Former Marine and extremely formidable in her own right. And no, I don't think any sane person would try to mug someone in a group she was with.”

“I see,” the detective nodded. “Thought the name sounded familiar. Well, anyway. It's your right to press charges against him, Miss Trenton. However, you'd have to stay here or return for the trial unless he plead out, which in this case I'm fairly certain he wouldn't do. That's not to discourage you, because you have the right regardless of what he meant to do or who he thought you were. Just giving you the facts.”

“I don't think so,” Jess said again, shaking her head. “We probably won't ever be back here. We only came so Linc could see the doctor and they should clear him tomorrow and we'll be gone a few hours after that. We mostly work the fringe of the mid-terior and the Rim, so. . .I doubt we'd ever be back, trial or no.”

“Well, I need you to sign here, then,” he offered her the pad. Sean held up a hand and the detective pulled the pad back.

“Can we have a minute in private?” he asked politely. “Just to. . .I just want to make sure she understands what she's doing, okay?”

“Of course,” the detective nodded. “Go right ahead.” Sean took her hand and led her off to an isolated area, a small walkway that led to the tanks. Closing the door, he looked at her.

“I understood what he said just fine,” Jessica said at once, no sign of her shy victim routine in evidence.

“Oh, I know that,” he assured her. “I just wanted to remind you to sign with your new name,” he told her quietly. “Make sure you sign 'Trenton' and not 'Travers'. You probably remembered anyway, but until you get a new name down it can sometimes surprise you.”

“True,” Jessica nodded. “Thanks. I think I'd have remembered, especially since he called me Trenton, but it was a good idea. Thanks for looking out for me, Sean,” she beamed a smile up at him. “One day I'll do something like that for you,” she promised.

“Ah,” he waved her comment away and led her back to where the detective was waiting.

“I just wanted to make sure that she knew the Captain would almost certainly support her and bring her back if she wanted to press charges,” Sean told the detective. “Captain was angry this happened, but. . .I think after what you've told us she won't be so upset with it. It being just a guy thinking he knew here, I mean.”

“I really do believe him,” the detective repeated. “His story never has changed and I've had him tell it, well write it, four times since he came around. And he's still convinced that's who you are,” he told Jessica again. “I've assured him you're not, but he won't believe it. Not that it matters, since he's going to be in the hospital until long after you're gone.”

“He doesn't know my real name does he?” Jessica allowed the tiniest bit of fear to creep into her voice.

“No, he doesn't,” the detective assured her. “Releasing victim's names isn't something we do. Now, knowing all that, and that your shipmates support you, what do you want to do?”

“I don't want to press charges,” she said more firmly this time. “Surely you folks have more to do than worry over something like this that's not even a real crime. Or at least there was no criminal intent, like you said.”

“Don't let that influence you,” the detective was too dedicated to his job to let her say that. “We do whatever it takes to try and keep our streets safe to walk on.”

“Well, no, that's not how I meant it,” Jess seemed unsure of herself again at once. “No, I just meant. . .well, if he really thought I was someone else, and I messed his throat up like that, surely that's enough. Right? Let it go.”

“Fair enough,” the detective nodded firmly, convinced that Jessica knew what she was doing and saying. “Sign here please, Miss Trenton,” he offered her a pad and stylus. Jessica took it and very carefully signed her new name to the pad. The detective quickly took the ship's net address and sent a copy of the relevant forms there for her to have and then closed out the file.

“Well, that about does it for me!” he smiled. “I'm glad you aren't hurt worse than a few bruises, miss. You folks fly safe.”

Sean let the man out and then returned to find Jessica frowning in thought.

“What is it?” he asked.

“That man really thought I was someone else,” she told him. “My life is so messed up,” she sighed, shaking her head slowly. “I go home and find my parents have been dead for a quarter century, I supposedly disappeared further back than that, and now this!”

“Don't let it get to you,” Sean reassured her. “Everyone has a doppelganger somewhere. That's what they say, anyway,” he shrugged. “This. . .Tatum, wasn't it? Tatum woman is just yours, that's all.”

“Funny that he would think I was her though, if they hadn't served together for at least five years,” Jessica noted. “And he said they served together during the war. I mean, how old do I look!”

“Not that old,” Sean laughed. “He just screwed up, that's all.”

“Yeah, he did,” she nodded firmly. “Well, that's out of the way, anyhow. What next?” she asked.

“I'm treating you to dinner,” he told her, smiling. “You cooked this morning, but I won't subject you to my cooking. There's a small diner that does a brisk business just out the port's main gate I'm told. Lets walk over there and see if they have something good on the menu. We can bring it back here if you want, I don't care. I wouldn't mind finding a good pizza or a good burger either one.”

“Oh, with french fries!” Jessica nodded. “Or even onion rings!”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

-

Eight the next morning found the entire crew assembled in the cargo bay.

“All right,” Meredith said. “We've all had a good time and got it out of our system I hope, because assuming this goes well we're out of here in a few hours. Anyone got anything they need to get done or pick up before we head out?”

“I'm going to the Farmer's Market while you're gone to see what fresh ingredients I can pick up,” Tony said. “No point in getting much, but I can get enough to feed us pretty well for a few days, anyway.”

“And while I'm thinking about it, we're taking on two passengers for the trip out to Liberty Vale,” Meredith nodded. “It's easy money and we're already headed that way. Are our stores set well enough to feed extra?”

“Yeah, but since everything is cheaper here, well most everything,” Tony amended, “I'll go ahead and pick up enough to cover it. I hadn't planned to resupply until we got back to Halcyon, since the markets there are less expensive for most things. Getting it here is cheaper than anywhere on the Rim.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Meredith nodded. “Jess, you and Sean can hold down the fort then?”

“Yes ma'am,” Jess grinned and Sean merely nodded.

“We'll let you know when we start back. With you on the bridge and Sean here, you can start turnover before we get back, right?”

“No problem,” Jessica assured her, and Sean again merely nodded.

“All right then,” Meredith took a deep breath, suddenly at a loss. “Faulks, lets get under way. If we get there a little early, they may see us early.”

“Aye, Cap'n,” Faulks was unusually somber this morning but Meredith had too much on her mind to notice. Sean noted it, but didn't really care one way or another, and while Jessica could see it, she didn't feel comfortable enough with Faulks to intrude on the woman's business. Lincoln was too preoccupied with his upcoming doctor visit to think about anything else, let alone anything to do with Faulks.

“Good luck, Linc!” Jess smiled wide, cheering the older man up a bit.

“Thanks kid,” he grinned.

“Good luck Lincoln,” Sean added, more subdued but just as sincere.

“Thank you,” he nodded to Sean with a more faint smile. “I appreciate it.”

And with that the trio set off for the doctor's office.

“I'll be back in a couple hours, probably,” Tony informed them. “I'll have stuff delivered too, so you guys may get that before I can get back. If it does beat me back, just have them set it inside and I'll get it stored when I get back. Okay?”

“Will do,” Sean said simply. Tony looked as if he were going to say something else, then seemed to think better of it and departed in silence, shaking his head.

“Wonder what he wanted to say?” Jessica said softly.

“No idea,” Sean shrugged. “I'll be in engineering if you need me,” he said, starting that way.

“I'll be on the bridge,” Jess nodded, all business now. “Need me just sing out. I'll be ready to turn over when they call.”

“Same here,” Sean agreed. “Be good to be up and out again.”

“Yeah,” Jess sounded a little wistful as she followed Sean up the stairs. “Yeah, it will.”

-

“Are you sure, and I mean absolutely sure that you want to do this?”

“For the last time, yes,” Lucia's voice was firm. “I told him yesterday that I had tried to do it the easy way, and he didn't go for it. So, it's the hard way from here on in.” Her face was set in a grim look, out of place for what she wanted to do.

“All right,” Tal nodded. “Your mother wants to see you before we head out this morning. We're ready to go when you are, but don't forget the timing is important. They'll be leaving soon.”

“I've got that worked out,” Lucia promised. “Trust me.”

“I guess I have to, don't I?”

Lucia fought the urge to roll her eyes yet again as she trudged downstairs to see her mother. Antonia was seated behind her desk reading some report or another when Lucia knocked gently on the open door.

“Come in, child,” Antonia smiled at her. “All is in readiness I take it?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, Mamma,” Lucia wasn't so confident out of Tal's sight as she tried to be when confronted by her. “I'm admit I'm worried a bit.”

“You should be,” her mother offered no comfort to her. “It's not too late to change your mind, of course. And there is always the chance they will return at some point. We could even try to hire them ourselves, though they would know there is no need,” she admitted.

“No,” Luica shook her head. “No bribes, honest or otherwise. I'm going to win, and I'm going to do it myself,” her innate stubbornness reared its head once more. “He's going to be mine,” she said firmly.

“Lucia, he is not a possession to be won, or a thing to be owned,” Antonia chided her daughter gently.

“No, he's not,” Lucia nodded. “But he will be mine,” she reiterated. “He's the one, Mamma,” she added simply.

“I know child,” her mother surprised her then with a soft smile. “I wish you luck, Lucia. May the stars bless you and follow you. May the sun shine upon your journey and the moon light your way in darkness. Be safe, my daughter in this quest of yours. Please. As you venture out, please remember what has already happened and do not place yourself or your people in needless danger.”

Mother embraced daughter and each kissed the others cheek.

“I won't,” Lucia promised her, eyes wet with tears unshed. “I promise you.”

“Then go with my blessings and get that which you most desire,” Antonia told her softly.

“Thank you, Mamma,” Lucia said and then she was out the door and gone, her detail already waiting for her.

“Spread your wings my daughter and fly as I once did, long ago,” Antonia whispered. “Be free.”

-

“Well Mister Simmons, it appears that your surgery was a complete success,” Doctor Bernard beamed. “It went so well in fact that I believe you should need your glasses only to read with. Your poor eyesight seems to have been a product of eyestrain caused by the blind spot in your cataract. Your vision check today was as close to perfect as a man our age can expect.”

“Really?” Lincoln wanted to be hopeful, had wanted to be all this time.

“Really,” Bernard nodded. “If you experience headaches reading or when you're using your instrument panel then I'd recommend you use your glasses for those tasks. The eyestrain may or may not have actually been a product of the cataract and the effects it caused, so if you do have those problems don't be surprised, and don't panic. It's just nature taking her course, that's all. You are good to go!”

“Doc, that's fantastic,” Lincoln's relief was palpable. “You've saved my life!”

“Oh, hardly anything that dramatic, I'm sure,” Bernard chuckled. “Oh, your way of life, I suppose,” he added after a few seconds. “I can see what you mean now. Well, you can return to that life without worry, Mister Simmons. And I'd say your performance should improve now that you can see.”

“It had better,” Meredith growled from his side. “He's nearly killed us more times than we can count,” she told Bernard in mock irritation. “Always an excuse of some kind, too!”

“Well, he had a good excuse but I've robbed him of that, so now it's all on him,” Bernard smiled. “I wish you well. Good-bye.”

“Bye,” the couple said in unison as the doctor departed, leaving a nurse to show them out. Faulks was waiting for them in the lobby.

“Well?”

“No more excuses for lousy flying the doc said,” Lincoln grinned. “I'm good to go.”

“Outstanding,” Faulks nodded firmly. “Back to the ship?” she asked Meredith.

“Yes,” she nodded firmly. “I've been on the ground long enough.” She reached for her com and opened it up.

“Go ahead, Captain,” Jessica's voice replied at once.

“How did you know it was me?” Meredith asked.

“Lucky guess,” Jessica answered. “How did it go?”

“Your co-pilot is cleared to fly,” Meredith told her. “Start turning the engines over, we're on our way back now.”

“Will do!” Jessica assured her. Meredith replaced her com and turned to find Lincoln glaring at her.

“What now?” she asked.

“Her co-pilot?” he demanded. “I'm her co-pilot? Shouldn't she be my co-pilot? I was there first, you know!”

“Of for the love of space,” Meredith shook her head. “Lets go!”

-

Jessica was in the middle of startup when the airlock buzzer sounded, followed by the alarm for the cargo bay door.

“It's just me, Jess,” she heard Tony on the I/C before she could call. “I'm back and they're bringing in the stuff I got from the market. I'll be bringing it up on the lift in just a minute. If you need me you can call me, but otherwise I'll be in the kitchen for a good while storing this stuff.”

“Okay,” she called back, smiling at his tone. “Don't strain yourself doc.”

“Ha, ha,” he shot back before cutting her off and she giggled out loud as she returned to her duties. Turnover was a serious job and required attention.

“Number one is spinning,” Sean reported. “Waiting on revs now.”

“Roger that.”

-

There was a procession of cars waiting when Meredith and the others returned to the Celia. Meredith wondered if all of this was for her passengers, because she'd agreed to two and no more.

“Captain Simmons?” A tall woman in a well-appointed business suit approached the group.

“Yes,” Meredith nodded.

“I'm Natalie Denworth, the agent that called you? My clients are here, as requested,” she smiled. “Here is the electronic voucher for the agreed upon amount. Unfortunately, my client has already traveled a great distance and is somewhat fatigued. They wish to retire to their rooms as soon as possible and rest if that is acceptable to you? I have men standing by to handle their luggage if need be. They travel fairly light, actually,” she added.

“If your men can place their baggage into the bay, we'll take care of it from there,” Meredith said, almost overwhelmed by the rapid fire agent. “Warn them it may be several hours before we can have their bags brought up due to our preparing to lift. If they need anything from their bags right away they should take it with them. Passengers aren't allowed into the cargo bay during transit.”

“I'll see to it,” Denworth nodded. “And thank you for agreeing to take them on. They need to reach Liberty Vale as soon as possible for vital personal business. I'm not privy to what they have to accomplish, but it seems to have strained them a good bit. I doubt you'll see much of them to be honest. They seem tired,” she shrugged lightly.

“That's fine,” Meredith nodded. “Now if you can excuse us, we need to get aboard and make sure turnover is going according to plan. Faulks can see to it that your men know where to place the bags and we can guide the passengers up ourselves.”

“Wonderful!”

Two women emerged from the car, one obviously caring for the other. The shorter of the two was wearing an elegant dress that appeared to be just short of formal evening wear while the taller was wearing a business suit that Meredith decided had to have cost a pretty penny. The shorter was wearing dark glasses similar to what Lincoln had been forced to wear after his surgery and Meredith wondered if the woman had undergone the same procedure. The taller was clearly a caregiver, fussing over her charge. Possibly an older sister or even a young aunt.

They obviously had money, but Liberty Vale had money to be sure so their traveling there wasn't suspicious.

“Hello,” Meredith said to the two women as she approached them. “I'm Captain Simmons, this is my husband, Lincoln, our pilot,” she stressed the word as she looked at him, “and my boat chief, Faulks. Welcome to the Celia.”

“Thank you,” the taller woman smiled. “I'm Jamie and this is Cinda. Thank you for taking us on such short notice. We sincerely appreciate it.”

“Glad to help out,” Meredith smiled. “We'll escort you to your rooms as we're on our way to the bridge. I understand you're both tired from travel and need to rest, which works out very well for our schedule as I would have had to ask you to remain in your cabins during turnover and take off. Once we break atmo, you'll be free to move about and one of us will show you where everything is. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly,” Jamie nodded. “Ideal in fact. We've literally been up all evening. Lead on and we'll follow.” She picked up the larger of two bags at their feet while the younger woman took the smaller bag. They had obviously traveled before if they had a ready bag for being separated from their luggage.

The small procession made its way through the cargo bay and up the stairs to the landing in silence. Once there, Meredith turned to look at the two women.

“We'll have your bags brought up as soon as possible,” she promised. “You won't be able to come back to the bay during transit unless the crew are present and even then we prefer not to allow passengers back here for safety reasons. This passageway leads to the passenger dorms,” she indicated the main corridor that traveled the length of the ship. “Please follow me.”

The two women dutifully followed in silence. Meredith led them to the middle cabin which was larger, and opened the hatch.

“This room and the one next door will be yours for the flight,” she told them. “Sleeping arrangements and what not I leave to you, of course. These rooms are slightly larger, though further back. I hope you'll be comfortable here.”

“I'm sure we will,” Jamie nodded. “Thank you again so very much.”

“You're quite welcome. We'll come for you once we're in the black. Until then I suggest you rest.”

-

“Revolutions on One are good, Sean,” Jessica was saying as Meredith and Lincoln made it to the bridge. “Temperature rising normally and within limits. Fuel flow is reading ninety-eight percent optimal and everything is in the green.”

“Roger that,” Sean called back across the wireless. “Preparing to turn Number Two.”

“Ready on top,” Jessica assured him. “Lights are green for turnover on Number Two.”

“Sounds like everything is going pretty good here,” Meredith noted as Lincoln took his seat behind the pilot's controls, checking the gauges out of habit rather than any lack of trust in Jessica's ability. She'd proven herself time and again over the last months.

“We're in the green and ahead of schedule, actually,” Jessica nodded from the engineering station as she monitored the ship's systems. “Number One is turning nicely and will soon be hot enough to light off on your say so. Number Two is ready. . .and looks like Sean has her turning now, as well,” she corrected as a second bank of gauges began to spin up.

“Two is turning,” Sean called. “No issues.”

“Looks green here too,” Jessica assured him. “All systems read nominal.” She checked Engine One again and nodded to herself.

“We're able to disconnect from shore lines now, Captain, if you want,” she reported.

“Already?” Meredith was surprised. It usually took longer.

“Everything is clean and rebuilt and reworked while we've been idle,” Jessica reminded her with a shrug. “We're literally running at one hundred ten percent efficiency. That won't last long probably, but for now we're humming.”

“Very well,” Meredith nodded, pleased with the report in more ways than one. “We'll maintain shore power until Number Two is at battery and then disengage. So long as there are no issues, we can secure for take off and be ready to lift as soon as the thrusters are hot. Lincoln?”

“Sounds good,” he nodded, reviewing the ship control readouts from the pilot's seat. “Having this down time and doing all that maintenance may have been a pain, but it's paying off now. Jess is right, we're hitting our stride way ahead of normal and everything is green and clean.”

“Outstanding,” Meredith grinned. She hit the I/C. “Faulks, you read?”

“Go ahead, Cap'n,” the reply was there in seconds.

“We're well ahead of schedule on turnover. What about the bay? All secure?”

“Aye, Cap'n,” Faulks replied. “Cargo was already set although I'm making another inspection now just for safety. All non-crew are off the ship and the bay is secure. All hatches dogged and airtight. Airlock is closed and locked off, bay door is sealed and locked. We are green to the gills back here and ready in all respects to get under way.”

“What I like to hear,” Meredith replied happily. “Let me know when you inspection is complete. I'll get back to you when we're ready to lift.”

“Copy that.”

“I could get used to this,” Meredith sighed happily as she took her seat. “A smooth-running ship without any difficulty or drama.”

“Amen,” Lincoln and Jessica both muttered at the same time.

-

Sean watched the gauges for his engines as they turned over and warmed for action. After being cold for so long he'd expected a bit more time and trouble in getting ready for lift, but so far everything was fine.

“All that work paying off,” he said to himself, his words lost in the noise around him. He worked to keep his mind on his business, knowing that it was dangerous to allow himself to drift back here, but he kept coming back to Lucia Delgado despite himself. Why was she so determined for him to stay here? What could she possibly see in him?

And what had she meant by it would be the hard way now? Regardless of what her 'assistant' had said, that had sounded like a threat. Normally he wouldn't have paid it any attention, but the simple fact was that Lucia had the means and the resources to carry out a threat like that and make life very difficult for Sean and the rest of the crew as well. The fact that it might hit Tony too probably wouldn't stop her, either.

And what was her problem with Jess? That was as surprising as her showing up at the ship at all. He shook his head, clearing the problem away and returning his mind to his work.

He'd have three months of space time to worry about Lucia and her threats. Right now, he had work to do.

-

Tony fought the urge to curse as he stored the extra food he'd gotten at literally the last minute. Normally he'd have been on the bridge watching turnover, or else been in engineering with Sean while he worked the engines up for lift off. Instead, he was putting up groceries because of two passengers on a three-month transit.

“Maybe it won't take that long,” he mused as he worked to shoehorn the extra supplies into place. “With all the work we did, maybe we'll be faster on this run and cut some time off the trip. Not that it matters,” he sighed. “It's not like Liberty Vale is anything like Porto San Lucia.”

He had gotten spoiled being at home, he realized. Seeing his parents and sister almost every day, sleeping in his old bed and seeing his old haunts. He was already coming close to regretting his decision not to stay, although his last-minute tiff with his mother and dressing down by his father had just reinforced his decision to keep moving. He was short tempered, he admitted, but he'd never thought of himself as being judgmental. A few days of seeing the world in a different light seemed to have proven him wrong about that. Certainly, his mother was convinced that he was.

He hated that he was leaving with his mother still so disappointed in him. But for God's sake! Emasculation by fire? What the hell kind of savages did that!? To think that his own mother had been one of them just made it worse.

Though it did go a long way toward explaining how badly he'd managed to piss off Sean Galen. He hadn't honestly meant to insult the man like that. True, he'd been angry and he wouldn't bother to deny it. Seeing his sister coming from Sean's bedroom, her clothes and hair clearly indicating she'd spent the night with him, had been a shock to say the least. Who could blame him for reacting badly to that, hungover like he was?

Well, obviously, Sean could and did. His mother did as well, the memory of how cold Antonia had been to him over the table that morning still fresh in his mind. He shook his head as he continued to stuff supplies in whatever cranny he could find.

“What a mess,” he said to himself, shaking his head. He had made a real mess of things without even trying.

At least the next three months he'd be somewhere that making another such mess would be all but impossible. And he'd have that time to try and mend his friendship with Sean, too. Assuming that he could.

“What a mess,” he repeated.

-

“Captain, we're ready to disengage shore lines,” Jessica reported finally. “Both One and Two are purring like kittens. We're ready in all respects to initiate thrusters.”

“Sean,” Meredith said over the wireless, knowing he couldn't hear the I/C where he was. “How are we looking?”

“Ready in all respects, Captain,” Sean replied at once. “Thrusters are warmed and ready to light, One and Two are at one hundred percent optimal, fuel flow at ninety-eight point three and holding. Temperature nominal and all systems are in the green.” His report was clear and concise, telling her everything she needed to know in as few words as possible.

“Very well,” Meredith nodded. “Prepare to initiate thrusters.”

“Standing by,” came the reply.

“Bay inspection complete, Cap'n,” Faulks chimed in without request. “We are secure and ready for liftoff.”

“Very well,” Meredith replied. “Prepare for launch.” She looked at Lincoln and nodded.

“San Lucia Control this is the Celia,” Lincoln called. “We are ready for lift, outbound destination Liberty Vale with six crew, two pax, and general cargo, over.”

“Celia, this is SLC, roger that. You are clear to depart. Take three-two-five by one-nine-one exit path and maintain non-sonic speeds until reaching angel fifty. Have a safe flight, Celia, and visit us again. SLC clear.”

“Roger that, SLC. Celia exiting three-two-five by one-nine-one, cleared for mach at fifty kay. Thank you and we hope to see you again. Celia clear.” He switched to the PA.

“Attention! This is the Celia. Stand clear for decouple and thruster initiation. Departure lift commencing in five minutes. Please reach minimum safe distance and maintain until we are clear.” He repeated the warning twice before stopping.

“Attention crew and passengers, this is the Captain speaking,” Meredith hit the I/C once more. “We are preparing to lift on our way out system. Please stay in your assigned areas until we are out of atmo. Thank you.” She shifted back to the wireless.

“Sean, light us up!”

The ship rumbled second later as the massive thrusters needed to get a ship the size of the Celia loaded with fuel, cargo and stores into the air began to hum.

“All right you two,” Meredith looked at Linc and Jessica. “Take us out of here.”

“Roger that,” Lincoln grinned. “Are ya ready, Roy?” he asked Jessica in the voice of an ages old movie character from Earth.

“I was born ready,” Jessica replied, grinning back. “All systems are nominal. We are ready for lift.”

“Thrusters within limits and. . .thrust at minimum lift plus ten percent. Here we go,” Lincoln said, easing back on the yoke as he increased the thrust of the engines. The ship bucked slightly as she rose from the pad, almost as if she were reluctant to depart. Soon however she was clawing for space, now seeming as if she, too, were eager to be back in the black.

“On course, on line,” Jessica reported. “Lidar clear, lane clear. Systems are nominal and holding. Looking good.”

“Roger that,” Lincoln nodded. His confidence was growing by the second as he realized that he was no longer having any difficulty managing his systems.

“And we are at fifty kay . . . now!” Jessica said sharply, flipping a series of switches that increased the flow of fuel to the thrusters. “Speed climbing,” she reported seconds later. “Angle on the bow check?” she asked out of habit.

“Angle good,” Linc assured her. “Approaching low layer now,” he reported just as a brief flame crossed the screen before them. “Punching through,” he added as the ship began to buck slightly against the friction of leaving atmosphere.

“Hull temperature is within limits and nominal,” Jessica reported. “Systems all green. Thrusters are aligned and equalized at eight-nine percent of optimal. Safety set to ninety percent. Speed still increasing. Exit altitude coming up . . .  now!”

Flame flared again across the bow of the ship and then suddenly the view went from blue-ish to dark scattered with distant stars.

“Captain, we have exited atmo and are ready to set course,” Jessica reported.

“Cheated death again,” Lincoln told her, grinning broadly.

“I'll give you that one,” Meredith raised an eyebrow. “Good work you two.” She picked up the wireless. “Sean, how are we looking?”

“We're green and clean, Captain,” the engineer reported at once. “All systems are nominal and we are humming.”

“Good to hear. Faulks, how did the bay make out?”

“No problems, Cap'n,” was the only reply.

“Roger that,” Meredith said. “Good work you two!” She switched again to the I/C.

“Attention crew and passengers, we are now in the black and about to set course for Liberty Vale. You are free to move about the ship so long as you remain out of areas that are off limits. Thank you.”

“Course dialed in,” Jessica reported, not having been idle during this time. “Ready to initiate.”

“Go ahead,” Meredith nodded.

“Initiating in three, two, one, now!” Lincoln hit a series of switches that killed the thrusters and initiated the main engines. Suddenly there was a slight sensation of being pushed backwards, then the compensator took the pressure off as the Celia shot forward at speeds nearing that of light.

“We are under way with no problems, Captain,” Jessica reported.

“Outstanding!” Meredith enthused. “I could definitely get used to this!”

-

“Fifteen minutes to lunch!” the call went out over the I/C about two hours after the were underway.

Sean had already cleaned up and was making an inspection of the engineering spaces, ensuring that he hadn't overlooked anything. He was hungry and started toward the galley.

Jessica and Lincoln made their way down from the bridge as Meredith entered the galley from her small alcove office next to her and Lincoln's cabin.

“Faulks, would you tell our passengers that lunch is almost ready?” she asked.

“Yes, Cap'n,” Faulks nodded and Meredith frowned as Faulks' melancholy finally got her attention. She made a note to speak to the crew chief later on and see of there was a problem.

“Here we go!” Tony beamed, moving into the galley with a steaming plate of pasta for each place, a bowl of sauce and extra pasta already on the table along with bread and drinks.

“Spaghetti?” Meredith asked, surprised. “For lunch?”

“Sort of a peace offering,” Tony shrugged just as Sean made his way into the galley. “Sorry, man,” Tony said simply and gestured to the table.

“All right,” Sean gave an amused snort of sorts as he took in the sight of his favorite. “Forget it, man,” he offered. “Looks good,” he added.

“Thank you kind sir!” Tony bowed. As he stood he saw Faulks coming through the entrance from the rear passageway, followed by a good-looking woman in jeans and a sweat shirt, and behind her was. . .

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

Meredith looked up as both her cook slash medic and her engineer expressed the same question as one voice. She found them looking at her passengers, faces clouded with shock and maybe even anger.

“What is this?” she demanded.

“Hi fellas!” Lucia Delgado waved as she and Talitha Jameson took the seats Faulks had guided them too. “How are you?”

“Don't look at me,” Tal shook her head as she sat down. “I'm just the hired help.”

“Lucia,” Sean's voice was gentle, and the more scary for it the crew decided, though the two passengers didn't realize that apparently. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm a passenger, Sean Galen,” Lucia smiled. “A paying guest that has paid extra for direct transit to Liberty Vale!”

“Why. Are. You. Here?” he repeated slowly.

“This is the hard way,” Lucia replied calmly. “You're stuck with me now for the next three months, Sean Galen. Get used to it.”

“What is this?” Meredith demanded. “Are you here under false pretenses, miss?”

“Nope,” Lucia grinned broadly. “I'm on my way to Liberty Vale to inspect my family's holdings there for my mother. We looked for direct passage there and it just so happened that you were already outbound with a direct cargo. Happy coincidence for me!” she smiled at Meredith.

“Sean Galen is just surprised to see me, Captain, that's all,” Lucia turned back to Sean, whose face was growing redder by the second. “See, I gave him the chance to stay with me on San Lucia and he didn't want to do that. Now, by the happiest coincidence, I'm booked on his ship for the duration. So, we will get to know one another, regardless. Right Sean Galen?” she beamed.

“Sean, do you know this woman?” Meredith asked, then looked at Tony. “Or you?”

“We met on San Lucia,” Sean said flatly. “Some little girls don't take no for an answer,” he added, and was pleasantly pleased to see Lucia's face grow red in anger and embarrassment.

“You can't talk to me like that now, Sean Galen,” Lucia shot back. “I'm a passenger. A paying customer. Isn't that right, Captain?”

“Within limits,” Meredith mused. “If you're here under false pretense, or if your being here is going to cause a problem with my crew, then I'm within my rights to return you to your point of origin and refund your money, less my expenses for the trouble.”

“Uh, Captain,” Jessica said softly, then stood on tiptoes to whisper in Meredith's ear. The Captain's face contorted in a frown as whatever Jessica told her hit home, and she nodded as she straightened.

“I've been reminded that for other reasons, returning to San Lucia is out,” she said tightly. “I'm afraid we're stuck with you, miss. . .what is your name, anyway? It's not Cinda I take it. Or Jamie,” she looked at the taller woman.

“My middle name is Lucinda,” Lucia smiled.

“Jamie is a nickname I use,” Talitha Jameson shrugged. “I didn't think about it. You can call me Tal if you want. Either one is acceptable.”

“So she'll be on this ship for the next three months?” Tony looked aghast, almost sick.

“I'm afraid so, Mister Giannini,” Meredith sighed. “Mister Galen, is this going to be a problem?”

“All kinds,” he nodded slowly. “But nothing I can't handle, ma'am. This isn't your doing. I'll be fine.”

“Don't worry Captain, I'm not here to cause you any trouble,” Lucia said seriously. “My word of honor on that. I'm just going to kill two birds with one stone, that's all,” she turned back to Galen.

“I'm learning to handle my family's business, and I'm going to prove something to Sean Galen while I'm at it.”

“What would that be?” Meredith had to ask. The reply could not have shocked her any more than she already had been.

“Where he belongs,” was the simple answer. “Where he belongs.”

THE END

THANK YOU FOR READING

“STORMCROW

Birds of a Feather”

by

N.C. Reed

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