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“My mistake,” Lorn says politely.
“Theodora,” I call. She slips forward. “Coffee, stims, and food in the warroom. Enough for ten.” I remember the two Telemanuses. “Make it twenty.”
She laughs accidentally. “Yes, dominus.” She steps aside to call her staff.
Mustang jerks her head at her ship. “Just going to let it sit there?”
“Chief!” I call to the Orange in charge of the hangar deck. Grease stains his beard. He saunters up, wiping burly hands on his orange greasers. “Put that ship out the airlock.”
“It can be salvaged,” the Orange says.
I look to Mustang. “Did you escape, or did they let you escape?”
“I don’t know. My brother was the one who saved me. The Grays are his mercenaries. His own ship was caught helping mine escape.”
The Jackal is full of surprises.
“What if there is a bomb in it?” Sevro asks, staring at the ship uncomfortably.
“It won’t be a bomb,” I say.
“Pliny wants me still, and he wants Darrow for the Sovereign. But more so, he wants your fleet, Darrow. When it didn’t show up at Hildas, he must have realized that you’d been warned or that you were waiting for a code confirmation that he didn’t know.”
“And he figured if anyone would know where I was, it’d be you.”
“So tracking me is how he will find this fleet,” Mustang says.
Lorn looks back and forth at us. “When did you two discuss this?”
“Just now,” Mustang says, confused at the question.
Sevro claps Lorn on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re not senile. They’re just odd.”
Lorn stares at Sevro’s dirty hand. The fingerless glove is covered with mashed potatoes and brown gravy. Sevro’s broad smile fades and he sheepishly withdraws his hand.
I turn back to the Orange. “Put it out the airlock. Fastlike.” He seems hesitant. Keeps rolling onto the balls of his feet. “Unless you’ve a better idea?”
He scratches his head, looking worried with all the Gold faces staring at him. The deckhands watch the exchange furtively.
“Out with it,” Sevro barks.
“Sure. Well
, I could put it out the lock, dominus. Or, I mean, I could find the scanners and the radiated material, if they went that route. We got some clever nuts and bolts here. Could find ’em out, and I could put ’em all in a long-range scout, no problem. Might do nice to let Pliny’s hounds go barking in the wrong direction, yeah?”
“What is your name and world?” I ask.
“Dominus … uh.” He blinks heavily. “Cyther’s my name. Luna. Three girls. Wife works in the Center for Automotive Development, so we have—”
I cut him off. “Do this right and we’ll bring them to Mars and put them up on the Citadel staff, Cyther. You have ten minutes.”
He wheels to his men excitedly.
I lead Mustang and my coterie to the lifts.
“Pliny said he killed you,” she whispers as we walk.
“Aja and a Bellona fleet waited for us, like we thought they would.” I grin sideways at her, then pull up my datapad. “Orion, take command of the fleet. I want us far from this sector before we have more company. Sevro, summon the Telemanuses. I want them in the … Sevro?” I look around for him. He’s loitering around Pliny’s eyeball some twenty meters back. We turn to look at him and he shuffles his feet awkwardly.
