Page 83 of Claimed By the Wraiths

“The people who are here want this ship. This crew. Work we choose because it matters, not because somebody assigns it.” I looked back at Serak. “I want that too.”

The light in his hands caught the overhead glow.

“Then the Raptor stays ours.”

That settled the ship.

The money was separate.

Serak picked up the datapad again. “I’m directing my restitution to the Nexus rehabilitation fund.”

Ressh nodded. “Mine too.”

“Same,” Deyric said.

Solren didn’t hesitate. “Put mine toward survivor medical care.”

Thoryn tapped the table once. “Mine.”

Zevik’s crest went straight up.

“Wait. MY back pay?”

Serak looked at him.

“That was going to be a very good bar tab.”

“A GOOD bar tab.”

Nobody said anything.

Zevik looked around the table.

Then he sighed with his entire body.

“Fine. Mine too. But I want it recorded that Zevik’s future bar tab was sacrificed for the greater good.”

“Noted,” Serak said.

“Noted and appreciated,” Solren said. “Now pick up your wrapper.”

Zevik pointed at him. “You ruin every important moment.”

He got up, collected the wrapper, held it up so Solren could see, and dropped it into the recycler.

The crew began to scatter. Ressh and Alix headed for the training bay. Thoryn and Maris left with Maris already talking supply routes. Deyric returned to his console. Solren went back to medbay. Zevik followed him out, still arguing about the theoretical value of the bar tab he no longer had.

Serak and I stayed at the table.

The mess hall went quiet around us.

The Raptor hummed.

I looked at the datapad with its formal seal, then at the empty chairs.

The Consortium had given six people their old names back.

None of us needed it to tell us who we were now.