“Alright, I get it,” Addy laughed. “But not all dreams are realistic? What do you want to be doing then?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, now. If you could be doing anything now. Or be in any place.”

“Uh. Let’s see.” Cyrus scrunched up his face in thought. “Honestly? Home.”

The only sound came from the metallic turning of the engine.

“I’d be in Paradiex, designing ships,” he went on, his tone quiet, a little hesitant as though not sure if this was an appropriate topic to bring up. But after a moment, his voice raised warmly and a mischievous smirk danced across his face . “The best ships ever designed,” he added. “Breaking down technological barriers on a daily basis.”

Addy chuckled. “That so?”

“I’d start up my own firm maybe,” he continued, making a frame with his fingers that he squinted through. “Turn away any clients that weren’t pushing boundaries. Oh and I’d live in a state of the art loft over 8th Avenue with a huge workshop of course.”

“That sounds lovely.”

He grinned. “And I’d be making keynote speeches at all the top conferences. Companies would be dying to get my opinion on their latest projects. Engineers would be begging for consultation. People would be swarming me in the streets, asking for autographs — ”

At that, Addy couldn’t contain her laughter. “A celebrity. Right, of course.”

He too chuckled. “What? Not all dreams are realistic, right? What about you? What would you be doing?”

Addy gnawed her bottom lip, her eyes sweeping up toward the ceiling. “Umm, about the same, probably. I’d like to take over my dad’s shop for real.”

“Uh-oh. You’ll be my competition then.”

“Competition? I was thinking we could collaborate.”

For an awkward but happy moment, they both simply grinned at each other. Then Addy said, “D’ya think it’ll ever be possible? Going back to Satieri?”

Cyrus slipped his hands in his pockets, his eyes roaming over the floor. “I don’t know. As it stands right now, I definitely can’t. Maybe if things change. I’d like not to give up on it. Even though the Society makes the prospects a little grim…”

“Right.” Addy’s voice softened. “The Society.”

Cyrus lifted his eyes to meet hers, regret in his face. And then, abruptly, he slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh gods, I’m so stupid. I forgot why I even came by to begin with. I have something for you.”

Addy was grateful for the sudden change in topic. “You what?” she asked, but Cyrus had already brushed past her toward the main console screen, his fingers flying madly over the keys.

“Hey, are you trespassing right now?” she asked, only half jokingly as she slid off the stool and joined him.

“I figured it out,” he explained as he tapped away at the screen. “I thought of it a long time ago, but there was a hang-up and I couldn’t get it to work, but after what you said, I got it. I figured it out.”

Addy eyed him, confused. “Figured what out?”

“The route,” he answered at once as though this made sense, not taking his eyes from the console. “The route around the roadblocks. It was just a matter of redirecting it to the right places and avoiding the monitored connections. I just need to install this–”

Addy was still lost. “Install what?”

He tapped one final screen and swiped it away. “There,” he deemed proudly, sitting back. “It’s so simple, I don’t know why I never thought of it before. But it’ll work on your CID now, for all outgoing and incoming calls.” He grinned at her. “It’ll make sure the Society can’t listen in or track the source. You can talk to your dad whenever you want.”

Addy couldn’t tear her eyes from the glowing screen.

“You made this?” Her voice wavered with emotion. “So I could talk to my dad. You made this for me?”

In the corner of her eye, she saw Cyrus nod. Heavy silence blanketed over them and Cyrus hurried to fill it.

“Hey, listen, if you don’t want to use it — that’s completely — ” but she didn’t give him the chance to finish. Before she could think, she turned to Cyrus, raised herself to tip-toe, seized the collar of shirt and pulled him in to press the full of her lips against his.

He must’ve been too shocked to move. Even his arms still hung at his sides. Addy held her lips against his, warm and affectionate, and then gently drew back, letting out a an embarrassed, breathless laugh. His face wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“Oh gods. I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, taking a step back. “I’m just so grateful — “

Cyrus looked utterly dazed. His mouth hung open and his glasses slid down his nose. Just as Addy said, “Really, I’m sor — “ he cut her off and blurted out, “Do you wanna go to dinner with me?”

Addy realized she was still holding his collar. She unclasped her fingers. “What?”

“Dinner. You and me. Out to dinner. Want to? Not tonight. I have to be back for that — but next time. Next time I can convince Fiear to meet up with the Beacon again.”

Addy drew her brow together. “I thought you said it was his decision to come here because –”

“I lied,” he admitted. A small smile was threatening to break over his face.

The smile was contagious. “Well, in that case…yes,” she said. “I would love to go out to dinner with you next time.”

“I’ll go.” Leta dropped her hand to her side, her bright green eyes lighting up. “I’ll go through the vents. I’ll do it.”

Fiearius was not surprised at all to see Leta volunteer. After learning the truth behind her mother’s death, she hadn’t been herself: sometimes she didn’t speak for hours, but retreated to his room, dug through data on the consoles, and conducted research, silent and surly. Other times, she paced around him and burst in angry tirades about the Society and what they’d done.

Fiearius navigated her grief as best as he knew how. He didn’t know how he could possibly help.

Besides going after them. He knew Leta wasn’t being flippant in volunteering for the more active role in this mission and though it wasn’t the safest, he wouldn’t deny her it. He wouldn’t deny her the revenge she craved.

He met her gaze steadily and nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“There’s a bigger issue here,” Dez said suddenly. “We fly anywhere near that base, they’ll know we’re coming.”

“Ah, but therein lies the genius,” Fiearius mused. He folded his arms and leaned back against the console. “The Carthians know which moon Blackwater is on. They just don’t know where. About once a week they do a systematic bombing of the surrounding area in order to suss it out. We land during their attack–”

“Their radars will be scattered,” Cyrus realized. “We’ll blend right in.” At last, he looked interested and impressed, but Dez remained unphased.

“They’ll still be able to see us.”

“Right. Which is why — “ Fiearius reached over and circled a spot on the screen, some distance from the mountain, “ — we’ll park far away.”

The room grew quiet as they all gazed at the screen, the light reflecting across their faces. Finally, Leta asked, “Then what?”

“Then we walk,” said Fiearius, as though this was obvious.

Cyrus frowned at the map, knitting his brow. “Through ten miles of heavy jungle?”

“Well, yeah — “

“Jungle?” muttered Dez.

“Yeah, we’ll do it in two parts. Camp one night, make the attack early in the morning.”

“Camp?” Leta scrunched her face in disgust. “Like, in tents?”

Fiearius shot her look of surprise, then looked around at them all in disbelief. “Seriously? We’re planning an attack on a Society base and this is the part you guys have a problem with? Get over it, this is what we’re doing. All that’s left is to pick a place to meet up with Quin and organize.”

“Relara,” put in Cy suddenly and all eyes turned to him. “We should stop there. It’s easy to get to, it’s close to where we’re headed. And the Beacon will be there. I need to give them something. Something for the engine. It’s just a part, but it’s kind of hard to find so–”

But Fiearius lifted his hand, interrupting his rambly explanation. He didn’t need it. “Fine by me. I’ll send over the coordinates.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The Beacon, in all of her splendor, always had the smoothest landing sequence Addy could imagine of a ship her size — even when her pilot was suffering from a concussion. Once the ship had lowered safely to the ground of Relara, Addy darted around the engine room, double-checking the readings on the console screens, only to find it was another successful docking. On a planet she’d never been and never thought she’d ever be able to travel to. Every time they landed at a new place, her heart leapt.

In the hallway, footsteps pounded down the stairs. Finn always stopped by to double-check on the engine after docking, so Addy started speaking over her shoulder.

“Hey Finn, do ya mind glancing over the A-thrusters upstairs? I think we might be — “

But when Addy turned around, it wasn’t Finn in the doorway. It was, of all unlikely people, Cyrus. He was leaning his elbow on the doorframe in a manner that looked a little uncomfortable, a nervous smile darting across his face.

Addy’s mouth fell open. “Cy? What’re you doing here?”

“I’m surprisingly full of it.” He unleashed a charming grin that fell off his face instantly. “Wait. No. Full of surprises. I’m full of surprises, I mean.” He stepped into the room, catching his hand through his untidy hair. “Actually, Relara’s close to our next job so Fiear wanted to stop here and regroup,” he explained, his tone now completely casual. “Since the Beacon’s here too, thought I’d swing by and say hello.” He paused next to the engine and turned to her with an awkward smile. “Hello.”

Addy clapped her palm over her mouth, but it did little to hide her grin. “Hi.”

Apparently, he was here for a friendly visit, because before she could say ask anything else, he turned away to admire the main core of the engine. “Did you ever get that clattering fixed? I tried to pick you up something to fix it, but — ” he grimaced at the memory of that particular port visit. “Well. Bounty hunters.”

“What? Bounty hunters?” Addy repeated, unsure if she should laugh or not. “Gods, your life is weird. The only exciting thing I did today was replace the batteries in our COMM devices.”

“Hey, I’d take that any day over bounty hunters.” He tilted his head at the engine, then swept a hand in her direction. “I’m not the only one with a weird life though. Look at you. Maybe you just replaced batteries, but you replaced them on a stolen Society ship currently engaged in black market vessel dealing.”

“Yeah, well. Some days are more exciting than others.” Biting down on her bottom lip, Addy lowered onto a nearby stool, still unable to take her eyes off of the man who was now wandering around the engine, gazing at it with admiration in his eyes. “Bet you never thought you’d end up grappling with bounty hunters, huh.”

He laughed, once. “Hardly. I never even imagined leaving Satieri.”

“Really? No childhood aspirations to be the most fearsome space pirate in the span?”

Cyrus cast her a pointed look. Then he spread his arms and nodded down at him: he was not quite 5’11, pale like he had not seen the sun in a year, and with engine oil staining his shirt.

“Corra — “ Finn heard himself grit out, but Mica pressed the bat against Finn’s throat and unleashed a grin.

“Riley, look. It’s your faithful little kroppie. I didn’t think she’d show. Types like her are more apt to run off aren’t they?” He laughed, and then cocked his head at Corra with an eerie light in his eyes. “But since you’re here. I’m going to assume you have my money?”

Corra narrowed her glare. “I’m going to assume you didn’t hear me,” she growled. “Drop. Him.”

All the good humor suddenly vanished from Mica’s face. His expression clouded and his mouth twitched. “As you wish,” he breathed, and abruptly he took Finn by the shoulder and shoved him to the ground, a heap of limbs.

Every inch of him felt bruised and beaten. Head spinning, Finn pulled himself up to his elbows, squinting in the darkness at the scene that was quickly growing dim.

But he could just make out Corra’s face. She was gazing at him, horrified.

Mica edged a step closer, holding the bat at his side. “So what is it then, slave girl?” he asked. “Walk right in here with a couple rifles and nothing to offer? You’re outnumbered, outmatched and out of ideas by the look of it.”

“Oh I have one idea,” Corra muttered. Finn saw her finger tightening on the trigger, but Mica snorted in amusement.

“You can’t kill me. What would Callahan say? Callahan’s an idiot for hiring your type to begin with, but I doubt even he will hire a kroppie who’s keen on killing his associates.” Even now, Finn could feel the power of his smirk. “And neither would anyone else.”

Mica, however, was just warming up. He nodded to the two other men in the room. “So why don’t you two just put down those guns before you do something you’ll regret,” he suggested as the men started to close in on them. Corra’s friend was glancing at her, looking for guidance.

“If you play your cards right, maybe, just maybe I’ll let you walk out of here alive,” Mica was going on. “I’m not an unreasonable man. I can let bygones be bygones.”

“Corra…” her friend muttered, stepping backwards toward her.

“Once I’ve extracted full payment of course,” Mica grinned, whacking Finn with his foot. And suddenly there was a light behind Corra’s eyes. She wasn’t frozen, Finn realized, she was thinking. She locked stares with him and gestured ever so slightly towards Mica. Well, Finn thought, he’d just have to trust her. And with a deep inhale of breath, he seized Mica’s leg.

The man let out a disgusted, “What?” and had already lifted his leg in an attempt to kick him off when a mighty battle cry filled the basement and Corra barreled towards them to crack the butt of her rifle into his face.

Blood splattered across the wall as Mica doubled over, but he bounced back up and delivered a firm right hook into Corra’s eye. As she stumbled backwards, Finn sensed his opportunity and reached up to drag Mica down. Corra, looking up, bewildered, took her chance and smacked him again with the gun.

This time, he tumbled over easily as Corra spun around and, swinging the rifle like a bat, knocked it into a second man’s head. Her friend, who had apparently taken her cue, was already slamming her foot on top of the third on the floor when Finn managed to turn to her.

He only got a second to register the image before Corra was yanking him up and pushing him towards the stairs by the small of his back. Her companion, whose height was close to rivaling his own, slipped her arm under his and helped him climb back towards the light.

Corra spun back around to the basement, moving backwards and brandishing her gun as Mica and his men started to recover from the quick and violent assault. As soon as they reached the upper level and were away from the door, they heard him cry, “After them!”

Slinging her gun over her back, Corra hurried to catch up with the hobbling pair. “Hurry,” she cried breathlessly. “Run!”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Finn felt his feet moving on the ground, and he knew his arm was slung over a woman’s shoulder, and he could see Corra running ahead of him through the alleyways — but other than that, very little was making sense. He just knew they was going somewhere. Quickly. But where?

He must’ve mumbled the question aloud, because suddenly the tattooed woman tightened her hold on his arm and said, “The Beacon. We’re going back to your ship, Finn. The Beacon. Are you alright?”

“Loud and clear,” he said quickly. “I mean — yes. Who are you again?”

“My name’s Alyx. I was on the Dionysian a year ago.”

“That’s a shame.”

“You’ve no idea. Now c’mon, we’re almost there.”

Corra hung back, stopping so she could take his other arm and throw it around her neck. “Hang in there, Riley. We’re almost to the ship. You can pass out there as long as you want.”

“In your bed?”

Corra cracked a wry grin. “Nice try. We’re almost there. Just a little further  — “

Even now, even in his own haze of confusion, Finn recognized his ship. He’d recognize her anywhere. Parked on the docks, three stories of perfect shining metal. Gods, it felt like ages since he’d sat in the pilot’s chair. He felt eager to do it again. Except —

“Wait,” Finn heard himself mumble. “Who’re they?”

A crowd of people had formed outside the Beacon’s ramp. At least twenty peopled stood tall, guns raised, forming a line. A barrier.

“Oh god,” Alyx breathed in his ear. “It’s the Ministry gang.”

“What are they doing here?” Corra groaned.

“Probably looking for me,” said Alyx, sounding shaken. “I told you they wouldn’t let me just walk out of there so easily. Someone must have seen you, found out which ship is yours. They’re here to take me back. Oh god.” She brought her free hand to her forehead, panic starting to set through her. “They’ll sell me to the ally traders this time. I’m sure of it.”

“We’re not letting that happen,” Corra said firmly. “Okay? We’ll figure this out, we’ll–”

From what Finn could discern (he was operating on a slight delay), the situation had just gone from bad to worse, especially when a shout of ‘There they are!” rang out behind them. All three heads spun around to see Mica, nursing his broken bleeding nose and flanked by his angry henchmen, guns raised.

“Move,” said Corra, her voice shaking. “Move — we have to get to the ship — !”

“What about them?” said Alyx, pointing toward the line of gang members.

“Cross that bridge when we come to it?”

All at once, the Ministry gang cocked their rifles, a sea of scowling, angry faces.

“I think we’ve come to it!” Alyx cried.

The three of them were forced to a stumbling, staggering halt, caught between groups of two armed aggressors, both looking ready to tear them all apart.

But then — it was the strangest thing — the scene started to dissolve. Finn told himself to focus, to think of what they could possibly do, but his vision was growing clouded with white light. Corra’s voice wound toward his ears, but it sounded like she was at the end of a long tunnel (“No no no, stay with us, keep it together, Riley!”). The last sound he heard was the piercing blast of a gunshot before he sank to the ground.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –