Focus,he told himself sharply.Deal with the immediate problem first. Obsess about the human female later.
The route to Rjmar’s shop took him through three different sectors, each progressively more disreputable than the last. He passed gambling dens and pleasure houses, black market arms dealers and information brokers, all operating in plain sight because there was no authority to stop them. The Royal Fleet knew it existed and chose to ignore it. Bragar’s Rest existed in the space beneath civilization, accountable to no one and beholden to nothing except profit.
He loved it. He hated it. It was the closest thing to a home he’d ever known since his mother died.
The shop appeared without fanfare—a narrow doorway wedged between a pawnbroker and something that claimed to be a restaurant but was almost certainly a front for organ trafficking. The sign above the door read “Rjmar’s Acquisitions” in threedifferent languages, though the Hothian script was so faded as to be nearly illegible.
He pushed through the door and was immediately enveloped in cool, clean air. The interior of the shop was a carefully controlled chaos of shelves and display cases, each one crammed with artifacts, documents, and curiosities from across the known universe. Holocubes flickered with advertisements for items that were definitely illegal in most systems. A collection of ceremonial blades hung on the far wall, their edges still sharp despite their obvious age. And in the center of it all, hunched over a workbench covered in electronic components, sat the largest Hothian he had ever known.
Rjmar looked up at the sound of the door, and his massive face split into a grin that showed far too many teeth.
“Well, well.” His voice was a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floor. “Look what the void dragged in.”
“Rjmar.” He pushed back his hood, allowing himself a small smile. “You’re looking well.”
“I’m looking old and fat, and we both know it.” The Hothian hauled himself to his feet, his white fur rippling with the movement. He stood well over seven feet tall and was almost as wide, his bulk a combination of muscle and comfortable living. “But you—you look like death warmed over. What trouble have you found this time?”
“The usual kind.”
“The usual kind doesn’t bring you to my door wrapped in a cloak and looking like you haven’t slept in days.” Rjmar’s dark eyes narrowed. “What do you need?”
This was why he had come here, to this specific shop, to this specific Hothian. Rjmar never asked unnecessary questions. He simply asked, calculated, and, assuming the price was right, provided.
They’d met ten years ago on Hothrest, the Hothian homeworld, when Doren had been abandoned by his previous captain after an ill-advised attempt to take over his ship. He’d been trying to steal food from a market stall when Rjmar had caught him—not by the scruff of his neck, as he’d expected, but by offering him a job.Help me move some cargo,the Hothian had said,and I’ll feed you something better than stolen fruit.
Six months later they’d left Hothrest together, Rjmar with his newly acquired inventory and Doren with his first taste of what it meant to belong somewhere. The Hothian had never pretended that their relationship was about anything other than mutual benefit—but he’d been more of a father to him than his own father had ever been.
“I need supplies and documentation,” he said, lowering his voice despite the shop’s obvious privacy measures. “For a human female and an infant. No questions asked.”
Rjmar’s eyebrows rose—an impressive feat given the amount of fur involved. “A human female.”
“Yes.”
“And an infant.”
“Also yes.”
Rjmar paused, his hand hovering over a stack of blank identity chips. “You’re playing a dangerous game, old friend.”
“I’m aware.”
“The market for human females?—”
“I’m aware,” he snapped, then took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. “She’s under my protection. That’s all you need to know.”
The Hothian studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded and resumed gathering supplies.
“Species of the infant?”
He hesitated. “The scanner said Aurelian.”
Rjmar shot him a look from under those heavy brows.
“I thought the species was extinct.”
“She might be a hybrid.”
“I’ll need biometric data for both of them. Retinal scans, genetic markers, the works. Can you get them here?”
