CHAPTER 9

Once we bounce the message, a celebratory feeling swells among us. The comm room is crowded again, but the mood lightens. I raise my brows at March. “This calls for a party, don’t you think, Commander?”

With the promise of action ahead, I don’t let the grim memories of Emry Station get to me again. Maybe we can replace them. Kora’s gone a fair ways toward that with redecorating. Even the walls in here are no longer plain gray metal. A quote comes to me; I can’t remember the source: Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die. Yeah, that. Exactly. After Ithiss-Tor, we need to burn off steam.

March grins at me. “Already wasting Conglomerate resources? Don’t make me dock your pay.”

I widen my eyes at him. “I get paid? Since when?” But that reminds me. “Hey, Tarn promised to recover my assets if I did that job for him. So where are my credits?”

Vel’s already at work on his handheld. I don’t know my account numbers by heart, but that only slows him down by a few seconds. By the twitch of his mandibles, he actually seems surprised when he glances up. “They’ve been restored to your account, Sirantha.”

He kept his word? Well, I’ll be damned. That bodes well.

“I’m not broke anymore?”

In answer, Vel shows me the machine, which gives me the balance. Everything I had, plus what I can only assume is a performance bonus. It’s not a fortune, but I’m no longer destitute. That’s a fabulous feeling.

“You said something about a party?” Hit prompts.

“Can you two handle it?” I ask.

“It was your idea,” Dina grumbles. “And you want us to do all the work?”

I smirk. “Yes.”

“Come on.” Hit tugs on her hand. “It’ll be fun. We could all use the chance to cut loose before we jump into this with both feet.”

She’s right about that. And a party will show the crew we appreciate them. Call it an exercise in morale building. Besides, the old Jax is anxious to drink and dance. I haven’t let her have any fun in months.

Dina nudges March with her shoulder. “This cleared with you, Commander?” She gives the last word a subtly mocking stress, but it’s affectionate.

He nods, and the other two women head out to prepare for the night’s festivities. Vel excuses himself shortly thereafter. I think he senses when March and I need to talk; Vel and I share a connection, too, though it’s different, nothing I could articulate. Once we’re alone, March turns to me, his face raw with worry. There’s certain magic in that; he won’t show this look to anyone else. To the rest of the crew, he’s captain, commander, savior, or whatever title they’ve hung on him.

He won’t let himself be vulnerable with anyone else.

“It’s just so big,” he says quietly. “I thought the Academy was too much for me to handle . . . and look how that turned out.”

I’m torn between the urge to smack him and the urge to curl up on his lap and tell him everything will be okay. Since I’m not really the nurturing sort, I offer a thump on the shoulder as a compromise.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

He blinks. Clearly he was expecting something else.

“I’m training Argus,” I remind him. “It’s not a genetically engineered race, or a new training academy, but it’s a beginning. It might even be better than an academy. Training jumpers on ships makes sense. If it catches on, we could offer an on-the-job training program as part of the incentive package for people who volunteer.” Seeing his expression lighten a touch, I go on. “And okay, so we haven’t fixed the burnout problem, but you know that with Doc it’s just a matter of time. Maybe instead of breeding a hybrid species, he could do something with the jumpers we already have.”

“Tweak their DNA, you mean.”

I nod. “Maybe. Maybe he can use me for that. I don’t mind donating samples as long as he doesn’t dissect my whole brain.” I offer a fleeting smile. “Though some might argue the fact, I still need that.”

“You always put things in perspective for me. Just when I start feeling like we haven’t accomplished anything—”

“How can you ever feel like that?” I’m honestly astonished. “Since I’ve known you, we’ve toppled the order of the universe, set Gunnar-Dahlgren as the undisputed leadership of Lachion, and forged an alliance with Ithiss-Tor. Even if Emry Station blows up right now, we’d still go down in history.”

Not that I give a shit about that, but March does. Men always want to be remembered whereas women realize that requires being dead.

I continue. “And now we’re going to start trying to set things back on their axis.”

“I wish you hadn’t said ‘axis.’ ” But he’s smiling faintly.

I refuse to be derailed. “One good war deserves another, right? We’ll slap some human raiders back in line, recruit the rest, and see what we can do about the rest of the galaxy as we get there.”

“That’s my first step,” he says, nodding. “I’ll take care of that right now.”

As I watch, bemused, he sends out a message on a smugglers’ channel, telling them he can offer profit and amnesty to any interested captain. They’re to report to Emry Station for more information.

“And now we wait for our ships to come in?” There’s so much to do, so much to organize. The endeavor seems impossible when you examine it from a distance. So we’ll just take it step by step.

“No.” He snags me around the waist and kisses me. “Now we celebrate.”