“Yeah,” I reply, closing the distance. “I’ve been told that before.”
“You’re not welcome here right now,” he says, crossing his arms.
“I don’t need welcome,” I counter. “I need passage.”
He glances at Jolie, then back at me.
“That’s not a simple favor,” he says.
“It never is,” I reply.
Movement spikes behind us.
Shouts.
“They’re here,” Jolie mutters.
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s why we’re not negotiating for long.”
The privateer studies me for a second, then exhales.
“You still owe me,” he says.
“I know,” I reply.
“This doubles it,” he adds.
“Fine,” I say immediately.
Jolie glances at me.
“You didn’t even ask what that means,” she mutters.
“Doesn’t matter right now,” I reply.
The privateer nods once.
“Get on,” he says, stepping aside.
Gunfire cracks across the docking bay.
“They found us,” Jolie says.
“No kidding,” I mutter, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the ship.
We sprint the last stretch, shots sparking off metal around us as the distance closes fast.
“Move!” someone shouts from the ship.
“I’m moving!” I shoot back.
Jolie stumbles slightly, her leg catching, and I tighten my grip, pulling her forward instead of letting her fall.
“Don’t stop,” I say.
“I’m not trying to,” she snaps.
We hit the ramp just as another volley of shots tears through the space behind us, the sound sharp and immediate.
