Trading For War (The Yrden Chronicles Book 4)

By D.A. Boulter

Pirates threaten tradeships in the human sector of the galaxy.

Someone has to stop them to prevent all trade from becoming prey.

That's where the Yrden Family Line comes in -- and, oh yes, there's also revenge to consider.

The Damarg alien, Korsh, heads the pirates. His attack on the Yrden Lines flagship cost Colleen Yrden her husband -- and her son, Brian, his father. The Yrdens need her more than ever, but she has secluded herself on the planet New Brittain. If they can get her back, will the idea of revenge motivate her enough to trade a peaceful life for war?

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.A. Boulter
• Release date: Dec 14, 2021

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Glencayther, Planet Erin

In the years to come, should we meet again, we don’t know each other.

Rose remembered the words that Jenna Yrden had said to her upon parting those fifteen years past. But she had never truly believed that the woman would rest until she, Rose, lay in her grave.

Now she had word through Ethan Fletcher, sometime lover and still mayor of Glencather on the planet Erin, that Jenna Yrden had returned – looking for her.

Rose tidied up her kitchen as she waited. Having known that Yrden would one day return, she had never slacked in her practice. Would the trader choose knives? Rose hoped so. She had always had a fine touch with a blade – much better than with a firearm.

A roar from the sky told of the approaching shuttle. She took off her apron and put on the tough garden pants that would allow her both motion and provide her with some small measure of protection. She opened the drawer that she had hoped never to have to open again for this purpose, and pulled out her deadly knife. It slid into its supple sheath, and she affixed it to her belt. A light jacket would cover it from curious looks.

The roar grew louder, and Rose walked through the back door into her yard. The sight that met her eyes surprised her. Not a shuttle after all, but a freighter’s scoutship hovered above the field, and slowly descended.

To take such into the atmosphere rather than parking it in orbit and hiring a shuttle told Rose that Jenna had done away with patience – or looked to it for a quick get-away after doing the deed.

The scoutship could jump to hyperspace. No one on Erin – or in orbit above Erin – could catch Yrden once she fled the surface of the world after having committed murder.

The sound of engines reached a crescendo and then died away, leaving a silence so deep it almost hurt the ears. Then the birds began chirping again and all seemed right with the world.

Rose knew better. Before the day ended, one of them – Jenna or herself – would lie dead. Perhaps both of them. She looked regretfully at the garden, at the plants that she might not tend to another day.

Smoke, now old and slightly arthritic, stropped her tail against Rose’s leg, and let out a small meow to let the human know that a cat needed attention.

Absently, Rose picked up the bundle of fur, and began to stroke it. A rumble issued forth. Ethan would look after the cat in her sunset years should Yrden prevail.

Villagers streamed past the fence, heading for the landing field. They rarely saw any sort of aircraft, and certainly never a scoutship. Rose ignored waves for her to follow along. Jenna would come to find her; she didn’t need to go looking for death.

The cat brushed her face against Rose’s, and Rose scritched the little monster behind her ears, just the way she liked it. Her eyes, however, remained on the path that led from the landing field.

There. No mistaking her. Older, like Rose herself, but no less deadly than the last time she had seen her. Jenna’s walk told Rose all that she needed to know. The Yrden woman had also remained fit, supple, and in training.

Their eyes met, though fifty metres still separated them. Cold eyes, eyes that assessed Rose even as Rose’s eyes assessed her. The townspeople didn’t accompany Yrden. They would all stay at the field marvelling at the ship from interstellar space. None would remain to see the fight that would erupt mere moments from now.

Rose gently put down Smoke, who complained at such brutal treatment.

The back yard would make a reasonable arena.

Yrden looked it over as she approached, probably thinking the very same thing. The air smelled particularly fresh this morning after the light rain of the night before. Too nice a day for death to come calling, yet death approached in human form.

Yrden opened the gate, and stepped unbidden into Rose’s yard. She approached slowly, carefully.

Yrden wore a jacket much like her own, covering whatever weapon the spacer had chosen for the day.

Bleakly, Rose looked at her, idly wondering why the killer from the Family Trading League couldn’t have just left her alone. But she knew. A killer like Yrden couldn’t rest with her job not finished.

Yrden stopped three metres away. Her eyes raked Rose, head to toe. Her jaw looked tight, clenched. Outrage sang in her bones, in her stance.

Let her speak first, Rose thought. She had come so far; let her speak – if she wanted to. Or let her draw her weapon. Rose wouldn’t start it, but she would – if she could – end it. And then she would have to run again, for the Yrdens never forgot a slight.

Yrden licked at her lips. What? Not sure now? Wondering what Colleen might think of her two mothers fighting to the death? Would Colleen ever find out?

The sun shone down, heating them. The early breezes faded.

Smoke wandered over to the intruder, sniffed at her pants leg, and then meowed to be picked up. Jenna ignored the plea like she would ignore any plea that Rose might make to just remain left alone.

Thus, Rose made no such plea.

Jenna had come without her husband, Tamm. This time, he would not be able to constrain his wife. She would get exactly what she came for – or die trying.

Jenna slowly unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off. Yes, there on her hip rested the knife. Good.

Rose canted her head to the side in an invitation to speak, to issue the challenge. Jenna’s eyes narrowed. Her lips tightened. Rose’s hand trembled in reaction, ready to grab at the hilt of her own knife.

In the years to come, should we meet again, we don’t know each other.

They knew each other all too well. And Jenna had sought Rose out. Rose hadn’t gone to the stars to hunt the huntress. Not this time.

Smoke meowed again.

To Rose’s surprise, the Yrden woman bent down and picked up the cat. She pet her under the chin for a moment, before looking again to her opponent.

Rose, Yrden’s well-remembered voice from the past tore away any aspect of unreality from the day.

Now came the challenge.

Rose, I need your help. It’s Colleen.

* * *

Prison Moon, Damarg Space

The hard, brutal labour exhausted Minda Yrden. Her Damarg overseer had no pity.

Work, she heard in her ear. You have a quota to meet.

A quota to meet. A quota that no untrained human could accomplish in the time set. That meant extra hours at the rockface The Damarg overseers had emptied this moon of its miners, replacing them with the pirates’ prisoners. She understood from her warder that several had come from Blue Powder. Of them, she had sometimes seen shapes in EVA suits. In their prison, she had only seen the other two women, both of whom had worked on Blue Powder: Evelyn Portior from Security, and Oksana Prokova from Engineering. They, too, they had told Minda, had seen no one else since their capture that they could recognize.

Braced against the harvester, Minda raised the drill once more with aching arms. She pressed it against the wall of the tunnel and turned it on. The vibrations ran through her suit, through her body, and seemed to rattle her teeth.

Though weary through and through, she did not ask for rest. She had … once. The beating she had taken when back in the confines of their prison had ensured that she would never do so again. Even her Damarg warder had seemed shocked at the viciousness of the punishment meted out by the overseer.

The shift ends. The Pagayan words took a minute to penetrate her weary, sleep-deprived brain.

When they did, she gratefully turned off the drill and carefully replaced it in its slot in the ore carrier. A failure to put equipment away properly resulted in a flogging. Oksana had welts on her back to prove that point.

In silence, the three women returned to the dispersion point from their separate tunnels. They climbed into the workboat which brought them back to the prison from the mine.

In silence, they removed their suits, showered, and dressed in the rags that comprised what remained of the clothing the Damargs had captured them in.

In silence, the overseer herded them back to their cells. No talking permitted.

Minda dropped to her bed, wondering how much more of this she could take. If not for Lorinith, their warder, she suspected she would already have succumbed, as that Damarg had told her others had succumbed, their bodies now cremated.

You must take sustenance.

Her eyes flicked open. Had she fallen asleep? She looked to the floor near the cell door and saw her evening rations on the plate. Quickly, painfully, she crawled to the plate and began to eat, shovelling the food into her mouth with her fingers.

If they didn’t finish within the prescribed time, the warder had orders to remove the remains of the meal – by force if necessary. She cast a glance to Lorinith, the female Damarg warder who had spoken the words. That one looked on, pain written on her face.

Lorinith looked to the chrono on the wall, and Minda’s gaze followed the Damarg’s. She chewed faster. She had slept through over half the mealtime, and would not finish before it ended.

The Damarg number clicked over, and a small chime sounded. End of meal period, and she hadn’t eaten more than half. She would go hungry this night, and into the next day.

Lorinith called out. Plates to the doors.

But she turned her back and walked over to one of the other cells.

You, she snarled at Oksana. Your quarters look shabby. Straighten that bed. Now!

Minda almost laughed. Oksana’s quarters looked shabby? All that she – or any of them – possessed was the blanket over the mattress and the clothes on her body.

But while Lorinith berated Oksana, Minda furiously chewed and swallowed. She heard the footsteps approaching, but they stopped again. She shoved more food into her mouth.

Your bed looks as bad as your compatriot’s!

And another bout of sarcastic language came forth. Minda chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed. Another minute passed while Evelyn apparently straightened up the blanket on her bed. Another minute where Minda stuffed as much of the remaining food in her mouth as she could.

With her mouth full but plate now empty, she placed it on the floor and slid it out under the cell door.

Lorinith reappeared. She looked down at the plate, and nodded. Her face creased just slightly in what might possibly have been the beginning of a Damargian smile. But her words came out harsh.

Sleep now. You must work harder.

And then their warder picked up the plates and walked off. Minda kept chewing, swallowing, until the last of the food had found a home in her stomach.

What an absolute horror of a sorry excuse for a person, Oksana whispered loud enough so the other two could hear, but not loud enough to engage the microphones. They had long since learned what level of noise they could make without earning punishment.

She’s a brute, Evelyn agreed. My bed didn’t need any straightening at all. A brute. If I ever get the chance, I’ll kill her no matter the consequences.

No, Minda said.

No? the other two answered in unison.

I fell asleep. A terrible admission. I wouldn’t have even woken for supper if she hadn’t warned me. And I wouldn’t have finished if she hadn’t taken that extra time to chew you two out.

Oksana’s tone suggested doubt. Are you sure?

Positive. She kept it up until I pushed my plate under the door. The moment I did that, she stopped. Minda couldn’t let the only Damarg who had showed them the least bit of civility become the target of the others’ hatred – and perhaps violence if one of them cracked under the strain, which had gotten worse and worse as of late.

Exhaustion overcame her. We’d better do as she says. Sleep.

Minda crawled back to her mattress, pulled the blanket over herself, and tried to forget the nightmare that Korsh had plunged them into with the taking of Blue Powder.

How many of the crew and passengers had survived? Where had the Damargs put them? Minda knew for sure that far fewer than two hundred occupied this prison camp. Had they executed the remainder? Split them up?

No one seemed to know anything. She, herself, remembered the battle for the bridge, where Korsh had betrayed them. She had seen him shoot Clay, and had then succumbed to a shot, too. When she had awakened, she had occupied a cell on a spaceship not their own. Oksana and Evelyn had related similar stories. They had fought, and then had woken up captured.

Minda stared at the ceiling. Somewhere out there, someone had to be looking for them. But her few glimpses of the stars suggested that they no longer inhabited human or Pagayan space. Would anyone come this far into danger for them? Did anyone still believe they even lived, or did they think that Blue Powder had encountered an unexpected comet or rock upon re-entry and had been destroyed with the loss of all crew?

Blinking away tears, Minda put those thoughts away. She closed her eyes and began to breathe rhythmically. She would think about that tomorrow. Tonight, she just needed to forget – and perhaps to dream of freedom.

CHAPTER 2

Glencayther

Rose had expected anything but that. Jenna Yrden had come to her for help? But then her next words had Rose’s stomach flipping.

Colleen? The daughter she had never had. The joy of her life on Erin. What happened to Colleen? Is she hurt?

She’s alive and healthy, Jenna said to relieve her of any immediate worry. Can we go inside?

Rose nodded, and led the way into her small domicile. The last time Jenna had come in, she had brought the knife that Rose had given Colleen – the one that identified her as the last of the pirates that Jenna had spent years searching for after she and hers had taken down all the others of Rose’s band at Davix Prime.

And, that last time, Jenna had told her that she would pretend that Rose didn’t exist. Now she had returned, that vow broken – for Colleen.

Sit, please, Rose said, and Jenna sat in the same chair as she had before. Rose took the one opposite her. Now, tell me.

The short story first, Jenna said, which Rose appreciated, for she hated a roundabout tale. "Blue Powder got taken by pirates. Colleen, and most of the passengers and crew, survived by going to the Catastrophe Core. Clay remained on the bridge. When Colleen and her bodyguard, Mr Telford, retook the ship, they didn’t find either Clay or his body."

That sounded bad. Very bad.

We lost twenty people in that raid, Rose, dead and missing. We have two bodies, but found blood enough on the decks to know that more than those two died. Jenna looked hard, hard as a diamond. Clay may or may not have died. Colleen believes he still lives; others believe he doesn’t.

And that would rip the poor girl apart. Word Colleen had sent told Rose that she had come to, and continued to, truly love her husband.

Who did it?

Damargs.

I’m not familiar with the name, Rose said. Is that a gang or a Family?

"Neither. It’s a species. They are somewhat reptilian. Short story somewhat longer, we got an offer to open a trade route into Damarg space – an offer directed at Clay and Colleen. They jumped at it. They took on a Damarg interpreter named Korsh. He remained on Blue Powder for a year. Then he sabotaged the ship, made it unable to flee or fight when waylaid by pirates."

Jenna’s eyes sent daggers at Rose, but Rose knew that she merely occupied the position in front of Jenna, that they weren’t directed at her personally.

Korsh opened the ship to the Damargs, and then he pretended to escape to the bridge to help with the resistance.

Rose felt her stomach clench. At which time, he attacked them.

Correct. Clay managed to open the InShip Broadcast, and identified Korsh before he went down.

So, he’s dead? It seemed likely.

Unknown. The Damargs removed everyone who hadn’t escaped to the Catastrophe Core from the ship – except the two who had died in the engine room. They then set a course for Damarg Space.

So, the attack didn’t happen in Damarg Space?

No.

Rose pondered that for a moment, and Jenna let her do so without starting the story again.

"Then, how did they know where to find Blue Powder?"

Jenna smiled a cold and bitter smile. Exactly. We can only believe that Korsh relayed the information somehow.

Rose found her own anger starting to rise. This Korsh deserved to die.

What happened after they took the ship?

The Damargs left a prize crew aboard – some sixteen of them. Colleen and Mr Telford – armed only with knives – went after them. They killed fifteen. The sixteenth – whom they intended to question – suicided.

Rose almost smiled. She had taught Colleen well, and the girl had taken the lessons to heart.

Would you like some tea?

Yes, thank you.

They both got up and went to the kitchen, where Rose put water on to boil. She pulled a container of Erin tea from the shelf.

So, they took out fifteen with knives, Rose said. That’s my Colleen.

Jenna grinned. That’s our Colleen. Then she stopped grinning. "That was our Colleen."

Ah, now they would get down to it.

Continue.

"Colleen and Blue Powder searched for Clay and the rest for a few months. They went into Damarg space, went to the co-ordinates that the pirates had set to drop as well as to the station where we have our trade route terminal. The Damargs say it’s their problem, and for Colleen to stay out of it. If they catch her hunting in Damarg space again, they’ll confiscate her ship and put any crew or passenger that they find in it in prison."

Rose poured the water into the teapot and added the leaves.

Which leaves her unable to do anything. I understand.

Jenna nodded. And she can’t take that. As long as she could do something, she could cope. Had they taken anyone but Clay, she could have coped.

Rose poured out two cups of tea after a period of silence.

You’re telling me she’s broken down? Pain went through Rose.

She has dropped to New Brittain. She’s living with my brother Frank. She refuses to come back up, to subject her children to the dangers of space. She has pretty much withdrawn into herself, and there’s nothing that I can do to get through to her.

So you’ve come to me. Rose took a sip of tea. That must have cost you.

More that you’ll ever know. But I’m desperate.

And that admission must have cost Jenna, too. She had just left herself wide open to any attack that Rose might want to make.

When do we leave? Damned if she would take any advantage from this. And if Colleen needed her mother, Rose would go into the pits of hell for her.

She saw the other woman relax, and wondered at herself for the way she felt. This woman had killed every friend she had once had – even given that they plied the trade of pirate. And she and hers had robbed and killed an Yrden to start the whole thing. The death of the trader had been a stupid accident, but accident or not, no one could deny that the responsibility for his death lay at their door. Just as no one could deny that Jenna and hers held the responsibility for the deaths of the fourteen, most of whose only crime had been a bit of pilfering.

They might hate each other for what they had done, but they had Colleen in common.

Whenever you’re ready, Jenna said.

It will take me a day or three. I have a position in Glencayther. I can’t just up and leave without notice.

Jenna shrugged her shoulders. Take what time you need; Colleen isn’t going anywhere. She gave a bitter laugh. And that’s why I’m here. Take whatever time you need.

Jenna swallowed the last of her tea, and put her cup down. You can reach me in my ship. A call to Erin Station will get transferred through, and I’ll come to pick you up.

So, she wouldn’t be staying in Glencayther. Good.

At the door, Jenna stopped and turned around. Thank you, Rose.

Not doing it for you.

I know. But thank you, anyway.

After Jenna had left, Rose began to straighten up her house. Who knew when she might come back, and she wouldn’t leave Ethan with a mess to clean up.

The doorchime sounded.

Hello, Ethan, she said, as the mayor stepped forward to hug her. After all those years alone, he had become something of a comfort after Colleen had left. Her first lover on the planet. First and only.

Did she bring news of Colleen? Ethan asked.

Bad news. I have to leave. She needs me.

Rose explained over another cup of tea. At least the rest of the pot hadn’t gone to waste. Ethan said he understood, but he didn’t, really. He couldn’t.

Don’t worry about the house, Rose. I’ll take care of it. He laughed. And the garden, too, though you might lose a carrot or two if you don’t hurry back.

Bless him for that. The man did love his carrots.

And Smoke?

She can bunk with me if she can put up with my snoring, Ethan said. But I’ll miss you.

And she would miss him. But she wondered if a taste of space would cure her of her planetary desires. Before Erin, she hadn’t really cared for living where gravity existed as a naturally occurring – and not human generated – phenomenon.

The journey to New Brittain would change her. Seeing Colleen would change her. Could she return to this after seeing Colleen again?

She smiled for Ethan’s benefit. I’ll miss you, too.

Topping up his cup, she said. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Ethan.

And that was as close as she could come to admitting that she might never return. Perhaps he heard it in her voice or in the way she looked around the kitchen.

You’ll do what you have to do, he said. You always have.

And she had hurt him. Were it the other way around, he would have promised that he would return as soon as he could. She hadn’t. In fact, she had never made him any promises at all. Yet he still came to see her, had never asked for more.

He swallowed his tea.

Come, Rose, I’ll help you pack. What season is it in New Brittain? Will you need a winter coat?

CHAPTER 3

Prison Moon

The Damarg overseer tripped Minda as she came out of the changeroom. She inadvertently swore in English as she stumbled into the wall, trying to regain her balance.

I know that word, the overseer told her in Pagayan, his voice harsh with an anger that made Minda cringe.

He grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head and marched her past her cell to what the prisoners referred to as the torture room. Lorinith appeared at the overseer’s call. She went to Minda, expressionless, and began removing the prisoner’s top, leaving her naked from the waist up. Minda shuddered as the shackles encircled her wrists, and then again when her warder fastened them to the whipping post as high up as she could reach.

Twenty strokes, the overseer called out.

Twenty? None of them had received so many before. After fifteen, Oksana had barely the strength needed to work the next day. Minda looked over her shoulder to see the vid camera set up to capture it all. Why? What possible use could they make of it?

Lorinith gave her something to bite down on, hard enough to prevent her mouth from closing, soft enough to not do damage to her teeth.

The first lash caught her unprepared, and she screamed in pain, the mouthpiece falling to the ground. Again and again the whip struck. She tried to keep from crying out, but it felt like the overseer flayed the very skin from her back. She lost count, could only feel the lash causing her body to jerk. He never gave her a chance to get set, and her screams echoed down the hall to the ears of her friends.

Whimpering in pain, she waited for the next stroke – which did not come. Instead, she felt Lorinith unfasten her wrists. Even the act of lowering her arms caused her back to burn and spasm.

The Damarg warder did not offer her the rag she wore as a shirt, merely carried it as she pushed her human charge ahead of her, back to her cell. The overseer followed them, humming a satisfied hum.

You will not use that word again, the overseer told her, then stomped off to whatever he did in his spare time – torturing kittens, probably, Minda thought.

Minda shivered as she lay face down on her bed. She needed the blanket to keep her warm, but the touch of it on her raw back would cause agonizing pain. She would not sleep this night, and feared that she would not make the quota on her next shift, extra hours or no. That would entail another beating. Tears slid down her face to wet the mattress beneath her head. Death might be better.

The sound of her cell door opening made her cringe. What more would they do to her?

Fire touched her back, and she groaned.

Be silent! came the whispered command. Bear the pain, else others will hear and investigate.

Lorinith spread some sort of cream on her back, causing an agony of burning. Even in the cold of the cell, Minda began to sweat. But she forced her mouth into the small pillow to muffle the cries she couldn’t help letting out.

A hand gripped the hair on the back of her head, much like the overseer had done, but more gentle. It pulled until her face came free of the pillow.

Chew and swallow, come the command, and a finger shoved something soft past her teeth and into her mouth. You will sleep.

If she slept, she would miss the evening meal. If she missed the evening meal, she would not have the strength to work.

Chew and swallow! The whispered order brooked no dissention.

She chewed and swallowed. The fire seemed to decrease in intensity. She tried to think, but found it difficult to even recall what had caused the pain.

* * *

Minda woke, hungry, but warm. She felt the blanket that covered her, and winced as she thought of what would come as soon as she moved, as soon as the rough fibres of the blanket scratched against her inflamed, bruised and lacerated skin. But she needed to use the toilet in the worst way, and she’d be damned if she would soil the bed. Hunger made her wish for anything at all in her stomach, be it only water. She could get water from the washroom sink.

Carefully, oh so carefully, she moved an arm to raise the blanket as best she could without dragging it across her back.

To her amazement, though her back ached, she felt no searing pain. Though stiff from the physical beating her muscles had taken, her skin seemed to have recovered somewhat, the cuts closed yet supple.

The cold of the cell hit her, and she picked up the remains of her shirt and carefully put it on before going to the toilet.

In the little room, with the dim light making it just possible to see, she gasped in surprise. A disposable plate with her evening meal lay in the small sink. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sat and emptied her bladder. Then she attacked the food as a starving woman might.

Finally finished, she tore the plate into ever smaller pieces, dropped them into the toilet, and disposed of the evidence of Lorinith’s kindness.

With her stomach full, with her back not a mass of pain, Minda crept back to her bed, wrapped herself in her blanket, and began the breathing exercise that would see her drift off to sleep once more.

She woke again at the buzz of the alarm that warned the prisoners to prepare for the day.

Lorinith brought their breakfasts. She looked at Minda as she accepted her plate. Minda gave a minute nod, careful to not let anyone know of her gratitude. That could only get the Damarg warder into trouble. Instead she exaggerated her injury – not to the point where she would have been had she not had the aid, but enough to show that she still suffered greatly from the previous day’s whipping.

Can you work? Oksana whispered when the warder had left.

I can work, she replied.

She heard a sigh of relief from the other two.

The day passed slowly. She worked steadily, and did not suffer from the overseer’s attention, for which she praised the stars that looked out for her. Perhaps his assault on her had sated whatever sadistic hunger he had.

While chipping away at the mineral in the tunnel, Minda began planning for the overseer’s demise. A rockfall that would crush him seemed the way to go. How could she effect that without injuring herself – or, worse, bringing the wrath of the prison regime down upon both her and her compatriots?

When the day ended, the overseer once again tripped her on the way out of the changeroom. This time she kept her mouth closed, and swore at him only in her thoughts.

He laughed. You learned something. Good.

Yes, she had learned something. She had learned to hate the bastard. And, sooner or later, she would see him dead – probably sooner, the way she felt.

After evening meal, Lorinith inspected the cells. She berated each one in turn. They took it, for they could do nothing but take it.

In Minda’s cell, Lorinith pointed to the bed. You must do better, or what you felt yesterday you will feel again.

Her voice rang with anger, and echoed down the hallways. Then it lowered to the veriest whisper, barely discernable. You are pilot?

Minda nodded, a minute up and down of her head.

You can pilot human-class scoutship from human-class freighter?

Minda nodded again.

You can navigate hyperspace?

Once more Minda nodded as she straightened the blanket on her bed.

The Damarg raised her voice. Next time, I will call for punishment. Now sleep. Work harder tomorrow.

She then pushed Minda up against the wall. Minda gasped as if it caused her back extreme pain. The Damarg put her head close to hers. You will take me with you to human space? I cannot bear this horror.

And my friends? Minda whispered back.

Impossible. Even one will be difficult. You will take this risk?

I will take this risk, Minda agreed. If she got her hands on a human scoutship, she would be able to record the co-ordinates of the prison and bring back help, rescue them all.

Hope, once vanished, returned. She would have to bear whatever came without protest. She would have to give over her plans to kill the overseer. Rescue for all trumped vengeance for one.

Lorinith exited the cell, leaving Minda to dream of the possibility of escape. It took some time, but at long last sleep came.

* * *

Doreen McTavish gave her mother one long last hug.

No, I’m happy, she said. I truly am. Erin may be your dream, but piloting a starship has always been mine. Now I get to do just that.

Her father limped over to her and took his turn to give her a hug. Just stay safe, Doreen, that’s all I ask.

She laughed gaily. Hey, I’m not the one who got kicked by a horse. Space is safer than a farm – any day.

She turned to find Sean walking up the path. He smiled at her parents.

Mr McTavish, Ms McTavish.

Sean, they said in unison, tones even, but not precisely welcoming.

He looked so uncomfortable that Doreen took mercy on him, and didn’t force him to talk with her parents.

We have to go, Mom, Dad. Ms Yrden doesn’t like us to arrive late when she’s in a hurry – and she’s in a hurry.

Sean breathed a sigh of relief when she joined him, and took leave of her parents with a last wave. They walked down the long lane towards the road into town.

Good visit?

Would have been better if you had any guts, Mr Williams.

He looked up at her. "So, you relayed the story of how the Damargs took Blue Powder?"

She gave a furtive look around her to make sure no one had heard. He noticed that, and laughed.

You didn’t.

Damn straight, I didn’t. That would just give them more ammunition.

Who’s calling whom a coward?

She picked up the pace, forcing him to almost jog. It wasn’t with every man she had the advantage of longer legs.

Jenna’s fretting, he told her. We got the call. Rose is ready.

When she didn’t say anything, he added, somewhat pensively, Back into space, hey?

Yeah, well I’m not looking forward to this trip, either, Doreen admitted, slacking her pace. She took a deep breath of the fresh air. I kind of miss it at times.

What? He hadn’t followed her jump.

The air. She jumped again. She didn’t exactly return from her visit to Colleen’s mom sparkling, did she?

Something between the two of them, I guess. Maybe Rose gave her hell for allowing her daughter to go into danger. Sean picked an apple from a tree whose branches extended past the fence. He took a bite.

You don’t believe that any more than I do. She took the apple from his hand and took a bite of it before handing it back.

Thief.

My parents’ apples. Who didn’t ask before plucking it?

Branch hanging out over the public roadway. Makes it public property, he replied. And I’m part of the public.

They walked in silence for a minute.

Most uncomfortable trip we’ve taken in Scout-1 – and that includes the escape, Sean commented after swallowing the last bite from the apple. He waved to one of the farmhands working in the orchard. Maybe we should just stay with your parents for a while – say a year.

Doreen laughed. Coward.

Hey, I think that’s the height of courage. They’ll ask me, every second sentence, when we’re getting married.

And that brought up something else. They had lived as partners for some sixteen years, but Sean had never come near to asking the question. He had avoided the proposition like the plague. He would risk – had risked – his life for her. He would die for her, she knew. And he would probably never leave her. But something about marriage troubled him. The few times she had brought that up – not them getting married, but why he wouldn’t even consider it – he had skated away.

They’re old-fashioned. She smiled. Or, maybe, new-fashioned. It’s so difficult to know what’s in fashion and what’s out.

He didn’t answer. He remained quiet for the next hour as they walked to the town, to what constituted the airfield and the scoutship that waited there.

So, she said to break the silence. What do you think’s between Jenna and Rose?

Me? He shrugged. I’ve never met Rose. And Colleen never really talked about her. Not really. Just everyday stuff. But I know she loves the old woman.

The town came into view. And, off to the left, the landing field where Scout-1 waited. Jenna came into sight, making an inspection.

She’s anxious, Sean said. Probably her fourteenth trip around the ship today.

Not an auspicious beginning. Doreen turned off the road, taking the path to the field. Best to just get it over with.

He didn’t speak until they crossed over the line that marked the landing zone.

Next time we come to Erin, he suddenly said.

Pardon?

Next time we come to Erin, we’ll gather up your parents, their friends, your relatives, and whomever we can drag down from whatever ship we’re on, and our friends from the Consortium station if they’re free.

And?

And we’ll get married, all nice and legal. Lay to rest your parents’ fears.

Her stomach did a double flip. She stopped short, forcing him to do the same. She stared into his eyes. They didn’t look like they played a joke on her.

Girl likes to hear the question, she said.

He got down on one knee – just like in the old vids – and took her hand. Doreen McTavish, will you marry me?

Yes.

Good. Now, let’s face the caged lion.

The caged