Corra watched him for a moment, feeling strange all of a sudden. Was it guilt that was making her stomach churn? Here was a man who had just fought to get loose in the world, clearly starving and dirty and barely alive and already he was dedicating his life to helping his fellow allies. And here was Corra, free for four years with a ship and a crew and resources at her disposal and she hadn’t done a single thing.

Which made it all the worse when he asked, “What about you?”

She stared at him, feeling caught. What about her? She was almost afraid to even tell him what her life looked like.

“How long have you been free?” he asked, oblivious to the shame creeping over her. “Have you just been living in Genisi? I heard it was the best place to lay low, that’s why I came here. Not sure how true that is though, all things considered…”

Corra wasn’t listening to his questions. Her mind was churning suddenly with possibilities. She had always said that she wanted her own ship so that she could help other allies. She had the ship and now that they were getting consistent gigs, she had the funds and she even had Finn’s approval from when she’d brought it up a while ago. She just hadn’t ever known how.

When she didn’t answer him, Cai just kept talking to fill the silence. “I’ve been switching up my home base though, y’know? There’s a lot of old abandoned buildings in this city to sleep in. And the weather’s been pretty mild at least, even at night.”

Maybe the universe was sending her a sign. Maybe now was finally the time for her to live up to her promises and take action. It was a message. A message that came in the form of a skinny, bony starving man.

She looked up at him and he stared back at her, confused. “So…you don’t have any food do you?”

“Hang on,” said Corra sharply. “Do you know how to get in touch with these Conduit people?”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured her. “I just haven’t had a chance to, not a lot of consoles around here to–”

But Corra grabbed his arm for the second time today and started to march him towards the door. “I’ll get you a console,” she said. “And I’ll get you some food. And a shower, if you want it. Just come with me to my ship.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds great, I’d–” Cai stopped himself. “Wait. You have a ship?”

– – – – –

“I don’t get it,” said Addy’s voice, crackling through the intercom speakers. She was down in the engine room below Finn’s feet while he sat in the captain’s chair, looking over a half dozen glowing screens in the bridge. “What’s the big deal about Callahan’s ship?”

Finn frowned. After his meeting with Callahan, he’d had the crew load the vessel into the Beacon. As promised, he’d told the crew to stay out of the cargo bay for the duration of the trip. Though it was still unclear why.

“It did look pretty ordinary,” he admitted.

‘It doesn’t just look ordinary, it is ordinary,” Addy went on curiously. “You run into at least five of these models at any major port. Probably one of the cheapest ships you can buy. And I scanned it, there’s nothing odd or impressive about the engine or its tech. Why is he so protective of it?”

‘Who knows,” Finn grunted, leaning back in his seat and drumming his fingers atop the dashboard. “Maybe his client’s just paranoid.”

“Or maybe … “ Addy lifted her voice with excitement. “He’s hiding treasure inside!”

Finn grinned to himself. Addy had recently taken a liking to this pirating business. “Or,” said Finn, “he’s just smuggling weapons.”

“Or treasure! Are you sure we can’t just get in the ship real quick and check it out?”

“We’re already teetering on the edge of Callahan’s favor, best not piss him off again. He says stay away from the cargo, we stay away from the cargo.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

“Just get back to your post,” said Finn, sitting up in his chair. “As soon as Corra gets back, we’re leaving this rock.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n buzzkill.”

Smirking slightly, Finn disconnected the call. Just then, footsteps near the doorway made him turn around.

“Speak of the devil,” he called to Corra warmly. But it wasn’t just Corra entering the bridge: she was pulling someone by the arm, a man Finn had never seen before and frankly he looked like she’d found him in a gutter.

Just when Finn opened his mouth blankly, Corra said, “Cai, this is Finn Riley. Riley, this is Cai.” The man smiled, confused, and waved the hand Corra wasn’t holding hostage. He might have been about to say something, but then Corra exclaimed, “We were captured by ally hunters!”

Finn held up his hand in alarm. “Wait, what?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, we got away,” Corra assured him, shaking off his concern. “But listen. You have to hear about this. Cai here, he told me he’s part of this — this — movement. It’s called the Conduit and it’s a bunch of allies–”

“Frees,” Cai corrected.

“Helping other allies–”

“Un-frees.”

“ — Escape their owners!” Suddenly bouncing up on her feet, Corra grinned at him so brightly, so happily, that Finn almost believed she wasn’t talking about enslavement for a moment. “Riley, we have to contact these people! We have to help them!”

Finn paused, catching his hand in his unruly hair. Clearly, whatever had happened today — and he was unclear what that was exactly — had sent Corra into one of her chains of excitement.

“You want to help free allies?” he said faintly “I — well, that sounds great. But you know…we have a job to do, right? For Callahan?”

Corra’s grin faltered. “Right. Yeah I know. But maybe we could just really quickly–”

Finn shook his head. “Callahan said take this ship to his client right away. No stops. No delays. He meant it.”

Corra’s expression fell into a desperate portrait of despair. Even Cai averted his eyes awkwardly. It was only took seconds for Finn’s thin resolve to weaken and he gave one irresponsible shrug of the shoulder.

“But –” he muttered, and Corra looked up hopefully. He grinned. “Eh, I’m sure we could pull it off.”

With a deep breath, Corra wrenched her arms backwards and threw herself forward from their grasp. Both of her captors, shocked by the sudden shift in weight, stumbled forwards, losing their balance. In the half-second awarded her, Corra swung her elbow into the left one’s head. He staggered backwards and the other attempted to grab her, but she ducked under his swipe and pulled her other arm free as well. Immediately, she went for the gun on the ground and in an instant, had fired off a shot into his shoulder.

He let out a yell of pain, the other shouted, “Shit, get her!” and although Corra would have liked to blow off all of their heads for touching her, when she saw them reaching for weapons of their own, she knew she had to take the safer option: run.

She spun around on her heel and started pounding down the street as fast as her legs could carry her. She could hear the men behind her starting their pursuit, but she had a head start and lot less weight to carry. If she just kept going, if she just kept running, she would be okay —

The same could not be said of someone else. As Corra rushed down the street, she started to gain on the original chase scene. She could see the back of the bound man further up ahead, still pressing onward, but losing speed every second. His pursuer was nearly upon him and Corra was nearly upon his pursuer.

Well, he’d helped her. It was only fair.

As she ran, she raised her gun, squinted her eyes, aimed and fired. The man dropped to the ground, sliding a few feet in the dirt before coming to a stop. Corra jumped over his body just as the bound man too looked back. He slowed and kept slowing and stopped, standing in the middle of the street, staring back at the body in some mixture of shock and wonder. And then there was another gunshot from behind her and his eyes grew wide with panic, but he didn’t move, still standing there like a deer in headlights.

Corra rolled her eyes. Idiot. And as she passed, she snagged her arm through the loop of his and pulled. “Come on!” Fortunately, he was just smart enough to follow.

They kept running, with the occasional sharp bang from behind them, but their pursuers were even slower than Corra anticipated. Now she just had to shake them once and for all.

“This way!” she shouted to her silent companion who just trailed along with her as she turned a corner onto a different street. She turned yet once more,  barreled down an alley and, without a second thought, slid through the crack in a large metal door. Then and only then, in the darkness of what looked like an abandoned storage unit did she release the man she’d been dragging and slow down.

Trying to catch her breath, Corra paced back and forth, doubled over and heaving as she listened for any sounds from the alley outside. But there were no footsteps, no gunfire, nothing. All she could hear was her own breathing and that of the man standing ten feet away.

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the low light, she looked over at him. He seemed a bit odd. Under-fed by the looks of it, the way his ribs were just barely poking out. His dark hair was too long and too scraggly and obviously hadn’t been washed in a while and his bronze skin had a hint of grey pallor along with the usual coating of Archetian dirt. The only part of him that seemed to belong to a living person were his dark eyes that blinked back at her, alert and panicked and shaken.

And then he said “Mmgh uuhh mmff mm ihh?”

Corra raised her brows at him. Oh right. The gag.

“God, sorry, of course,” she laughed breathlessly, stepping towards him and reaching up to untie the cloth that had been hastily secured around his mouth. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice a familiar notch had been taken out of his left ear.

He was an ally.

“Ah, thanks,” he sighed as the cloth fell away and Corra moved on to untie his wrists. “Can’t tell you how uncomfortable that was.” The rope too dropped to the ground and the man stretched out his arms in wonder. “That too.”

Corra eyed him skeptically. “So those guys,” she prompted, lifting her brows. “Ally hunters?”

He made a clicking noise with his tongue and pointed his index finger at her. “You got it.” He glanced at the metal door a little nervously. “They’ve been chasing me for weeks. I thought it was over when they caught me today finally. But then you showed up and distracted them and–” He laughed a little wildly. “I guess I’m free for another day. Thanks for that, by the way.” He smiled, but it vanished quickly as he added, “And sorry.”

Corra shrugged. “Not your fault,” she assured him, but then cast him a glare. “Unless you told them about me.”

He shook his hands in front of him. “No no! Wasn’t me. That lot’s just extra good at spotting notches from a distance.” He pointed to his ear and then shoved his hand towards her. “I’m Cailean by the way. Cai, if ya please.”

“Corra,” she introduced, taking the hand and shaking it.

“So where’d you escape from then?” he asked, without skipping a beat, catching Corra off-guard. No one had asked her that since–well, ever. Who she belonged to, she got a lot. Where her owner was, sure. But where she’d escaped from? She’d never met another free ally before. ‘Escape’ wasn’t part of ally vocabulary.

“Uh, nowhere,” she muttered uncomfortably, completely lost on how to answer.

But Cai just cracked a smile. “Oh come on, you can tell me, I swear I won’t sell you out. Us Frees look out for one another y’know?”

“No, really,” Corra insisted. “I didn’t escape from anywhere. I was bought and the man who bought me let me go.” Cai blinked at her as though he didn’t understand, but Corra was more interested in something else. “Wait, did you say ‘Frees’? As in…there are more of you?”

“More of me? No. I’m one of a kind.” He grinned stupidly and she couldn’t help but laugh. “More Frees though? Yeah, more and more of us each day. I’m part of the Conduit.” He must have sensed her confusion because he went on, “You haven’t heard of it? It’s a huge movement of Frees to break away Un-Frees from their owners. It was started by the First Free. She and her followers escaped their trade compound in the chaos after Solon Goddora was killed and have been helping others get out ever since.”

Corra couldn’t believe her ears. Goddora? Her mouth fell open. “No fucking way…”

Cai faltered, raising his brows at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she insisted, internally vowing to tell Leta about this later. What would she think knowing she’d played a part in starting a ‘huge movement’ to free allies? “Who’s the First Free? What’s her name?”

Cai faltered again. “Eh, I’m not actually sure.”

“Oh, well…how does the Conduit do it? How do they free allies?”

He grimaced. “Eh, not really sure about that either.”

Corra frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought you said you were part of it.”

He provided her a sheepish smile. “Right, well…Not exactly.” When she just stared at him, unimpressed, he added, “Not yet anyway. See I only just escaped myself and most of that time has been spent avoiding hunters. So yeah. Going to be part of it? Absolutely. Spend the rest of my life helping others be free? That’s the plan. Actually part of it right now?” He shrugged. “Not quite.”

“He’ll be fine,” Corra told her, putting her hand on Leta’s back. “If it’s his health you’re worried about — listen, he’s got Daelen. Daelen’s fantastic. He’s got this. And I’m not worried about stupid Fiearius anyway. I’m worried about you. How are you doing? Honestly.”

“I’m okay. Really.” Leta put her chin in her hand. Usually, Leta was not one to  divulge her personal life, but they had been drinking for a few hours now. She went on, her voice careful, “Mostly it’s just strange. Waking up in a new room on the Beacon instead of, you know. With him.”

“Hey.” Corra smirked. “I offered to let you stay with me in my quarters.”

“Thanks,” Leta laughed. “I may take you up on that. Not exactly the same, though.”

Corra drummed her fingers against her glass, but did not take her eyes off her friend. “You don’t really miss him though do you? After what he did?”

“It’s not just the lying — it’s what he said to me afterwards. He said that he can’t trust me with some things. If he didn’t tell me about the Flush, who knows what else he was keeping from me?” Leta’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead, as if bitterly impressed. “What a load of shit.” She shook her head, dazed. Then she quickly grabbed for her glass and brought it closer, almost urgently. “Anyway, I don’t miss him yet. But I have a bad feeling I will. Which is why I had to leave.”

Corra stared at her sadly. She didn’t really have any experience of her own in this matter, so she couldn’t totally understand what Leta was feeling or why. All she knew was that, “You made the right choice.” A grin slid across her face. “Leaving the Dionysian was the best thing I ever did. And I guarantee you it’ll be the best thing you ever did. That ship’s a leaky lifeboat. It gets you out of a tough spot alive, barely, but you and me? We don’t need that anymore. We’ve already made it to shore. Time to move on.”

To Corra’s surprise and relief, Leta actually smiled — a real smile that spread across her face. The first one she’d seen in days.

“I’ll cheers to that,” Leta said, tilting her glass against hers.

– – – –

Hours later, Corra was proud that she and Leta were the very last ones still in the bar, talking and laughing until the whole place had emptied out. Arm-in-arm, they’d stumbled back to the Beacon, and Corra waved to Leta as she veered toward her bedroom.

Feeling more sober than Leta looked, Corra went up the stairs toward her own room, but then she noticed that the main lights in the bridge were still on, illuminating the hallway. At this hour? Finn spent half his life in the bridge, but it was still late, even for him.

Inside, Finn was in the pilot’s seat, his feet propped up on the console screen. A book lay open in his lap, and he looked up.

“She returns,” he said warmly. He leaned back in his seat, his palms at his neck. “How was your night out, captain?”

Corra plopped into the seat beside him and kicked off her heels. “A very handsome gentleman bought me a drink and seemed pretty impressed about my ship.”

“Our ship,” said Finn at once, but then he grinned, rather flirtatiously.  “Sounds like it went well — you trying to make me jealous?”

Corra rolled her eyes. It was well-established that her relationship with Finn was a professional one. Well. Professional with occasional — nay, regular as of late — extras added in. Still, their trysts was just that — trysts — though this did not prevent Finn from using lines on her. Fortunately, he only did so when they were alone.

“Not on your life, Riley,” she replied, her tone shutting him down, but her smile telling a different story.

“If your night went so well, why’re you home early, then?”

Corra sighed. “Because tonight wasn’t about that. It was about Leta.” Her expression softened. “I’m worried about her. She’s just down, y’know? This whole week, no matter what I do, she’s just quiet and distant…”

“Well, it hasn’t been long since …. ”

“I know.” She pulled her legs up onto the chair to sit cross-legged, laying her hands in her lap. “I only wish I could help.” She fell quiet for a moment as she looked down at her foot. But then she remembered. “She still hates you by the way.”

Finn not look perturbed. “I figured.”

“It was pretty crappy of you,” Corra insisted. “To keep this from her. By all the rules of friendship, I should be mad with you too, honestly.”

“By the rules of friendship? Corra, it’s those ‘rules of friendship’ that kept me from telling her to begin with. If Leta came to you and told you a secret and said not to mention it to anybody else, even if you knew it was hurting somebody, would you?”

Corra’s resolve faltered. “No,” she admitted. “I guess if I promised, I wouldn’t tell…”

“Besides, I did keep a dangerous secret for Leta once. Remind her of that next time she calls for my head on a stake.”

Corra laughed. “And have her mad at me? No thanks.”

Finn sat up, dropping his book onto the dashboard. “Well at least I have good news,” he said, and Corra perked up.

“You do? Did you get us a job?”

Finn nodded. “Callahan got ahold of me today. Says he has a good one lined up for us.”

Though the Beacon had been working with Callahan for five months now, Corra still wasn’t particularly fond of the man. He was slimy, and he was still disgustingly dedicated to the idea that Corra was an ally that belonged to Finn — no matter how many times Finn corrected him. Despite how she’d consistently proven herself to be just as competent as anyone else aboard the ship, he still refused to look at her when they were in the same room. So to Corra, this news was not particularly good.

“Ugh,” she groaned, sinking back into her chair. “Him?”

“Hey, I’m not crazy about him either, but just wait til you hear the pay.”

She lifted her eyebrows skeptically. “How much?”

Finn grinned. “Oh just enough to keep us job-free for two months.”

Corra’s eyes grew wide and she sat back up again. “Wait — what? That much? Why?” She frowned. “What’s the catch?”

Finn shrugged. “No catch as far as I can tell. He’s a little bit desperate for this job. It’s just a ship he needs delivered, like usual. Only the destination’s not exactly a five star resort and I guess the ship is something special. Sounds easy.”

Corra didn’t quite believe it. In her experience on the Dionysian, easy always meant ‘‘too good to be true.’ But as much as she disliked Callahan, he hadn’t lead them astray so far and if he really was paying such a sum, it was worth investigating at the very least.

“So we’re headed to Archeti then?”

“First thing in the morning.” He paused, and added playfully, “If I have my co-captain’s approval, that is.”

“It’s yours,” Corra snorted, giving him a lazy salute with her fingers. Then she pushed herself to her bare feet and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m off to bed then.”

Finn turned back to the console screen as Corra walked toward the door. Before she left, she tapped her finger against the light controls, switching them off so semi-darkness fell through the room. Finn frowned at her, puzzled, but then he seemed to understand completely as Corra said, “You coming with me, or what?”

“Well, she’s gone,” he said abruptly and even without looking, Fiearius could feel the judgment in his stance. He knew Cyrus stood with his arms crossed over his chest, frown on his face, a pose he’d seen a thousand times before.

“The Beacon’s just taken off,” he went on flatly. “I brought her most of her things, but if you have anything else, put it in a box and I’ll make sure they get to her later.”

So Leta’s room had been emptied. At some point, he’d have to rid his own quarters of her. She left clothes in there, sometimes. And her books.

“Daelen’s moved into her old quarters and is setting up the infirmary,” Cyrus continued. “He’s going to help you through detox.” A long silence passed, before Cyrus took a deep breath and continued further. “He says you have a couple days left before your symptoms amplify so in that couple days, you need to figure out what we’re doing with the ship for the next few weeks. Where we can dock, how we’re going to eat.”

This time, Cyrus’ pause was even more expectant. He wanted an answer, But Fiearius still said nothing until Cyrus said impatiently, “Okay? Can you do that?”

Numbly, Fiearius nodded.

“Good,” he said shortly. Fiearius heard him turn to walk away. But he stopped a few steps later. “Oh and you can explain to the crew why none of them will be getting paid for the next month as well,” he added coldly before marching off down the hall, his footsteps fading behind him.

– – –

The bar was crowded and noisy, the din of conversation warmly filling the room as drinks were poured and shots were thrown back. Music spilled from shabby speakers in the corner, and as Corra reached for her cocktail, she decided a night out was just what the doctor ordered. Especially since the handsome man at her side asked conversationally, sounding fascinated, “So you’re a ship captain then?”

“Sure am,” she said proudly, raising her glass at him before bringing to her lips. Well, co-captain, technically, though this lot didn’t need to know that.  Why ruin it with technicalities? Instead, she went on, “Own the ship myself too. Great, beautiful boat like you wouldn’t believe. State of the art and everything.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t believe it for a reason,” said the man’s friend, who was surveying Corra with disbelief from behind the rim of his beer. Corra just rolled her eyes.

Fortunately, the other man was not dissuaded. “You don’t mean that big one I saw on the docks? Landed yesterday? All smooth curves and light metal?”

“That’s the one!” Corra cheered, grinning at him. “That’s my Beacon.”

“Good gods,” laughed the man in surprise. “That ship must have cost a fortune.”

Corra just shrugged, sipping her fruity cocktail. “Beats me,” she said, an image of innocence before she dropped the bomb. “I stole it.”

It worked just as she anticipated. Both men looked astonished and impressed. Feeling particularly proud of herself, Corra lifted her chin and sipped her drink nonchalantly. She was about to launch into the epic tale of how she’d managed the feat (which would exclude the fact that Cyrus and Leta had done the actual theft), when she glanced across the room and noticed Leta.

She did not appear to be enjoying herself.

Twenty minutes ago, Corra had left her in the company of some tall man with good hair who seemed reasonably witty. Corra thought Leta would’ve enjoyed his company, but it didn’t seem that way: Leta was leaning against the wall, looking more interested in her glass of whiskey than the man who appeared to be droning through a long, self-indulgent story.

Well that wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Corra had brought Leta out tonight with the intention of having fun. It had only been a week since the Great Breakup, which may have been too early to start hitting the dock bars full of shipchasers and fleeting romances, but Leta had reluctantly agreed to it anyway. Now that she saw the discomfort in Leta’s face, even from over here, Corra knew this wasn’t for the best.

“Another story for another time, I’m afraid,” she told her adoring fans, as she slipped from the bar stool and melted into the crowd of people. When she reached Leta, the woman’s eyes lit up with hope and Corra knew exactly what to do.

“Chicka, come here, I need to have an actually active and interesting conversation with you,” she said loudly, cutting off Leta’s obnoxious companion. Corra cut him a sharp glare. “Unlike some people.” The look on his face made it clear that he got the hint. Not that Corra felt bad. He had one job. One simple job of entertaining her friend and he couldn’t even do that. Useless.

Leaving him behind, she lead Leta back to the bar and nodded to the bartender to get them both refills. “Y’know,” she said at last, “If you didn’t want to come out tonight, you could have told me. We didn’t have to.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” Leta argued. “I thought it’d be a good distraction.”

“It’s okay,” Corra assured her with a smile as the man behind the bar returned with their drinks. “We can still drink, just the two of us.”

“I never really liked mingling in bars,” Leta admitted, and Corra laughed.

“It’s definitely not for everyone. Next time maybe I’ll take you somewhere nicer.” She nudged Leta with her elbow. “Somewhere fancy? Find you some nice classy people?”

“That’d be a dramatic change,” Leta snorted, taking a long swig of her drink.

Corra’s smile faded away. Though she was hesitant to bring it up, she couldn’t help but ask, “Have you talked to him since–you know?”

“No. Not at all. He’s sent me a few messages, but I don’t have anything left to say to him.”

Corra nodded in understanding. “You don’t owe him anything.”

“I gave him enough,” Leta agreed, rolling her eyes dryly to the side. After a moment, she went on, “He’s about to suffer withdrawal,” and flicked her eyes to the rim of her glass. “He’ll be seriously ill. Out of commission for a few weeks at least.”