A long, long hour later, their host rejoined them with a data chip. He passed it over to Emerald before he got talking. “There’s good news and bad news.”

  “Bad news first!” Jenny Mae called from her spot on the floor.

  “The good news is that it’s not Syndicate-sponsored.” Emerald’s shoulders relaxed as Whet continued, talking mostly to Heath and the other younger spacers. “They let the underlings play around and put bounties out, even on each other, but it isn’t the whole organization coming down on you. This one looks pretty standard. Set up by a subcontractor of a subcontractor kind of thing.”

  “What’s the bad news then?” Heath said.

  “Bad news is that they’re offering a hell of a lot.”

  “If it’s not a Syndicate bounty, can we get them to reverse it?” Copperfield asked.

  Whet snorted. “Sure. Just mosey on up to one of their system underbosses and ask. Without a bounty hunter deciding to make a quick profit on the way.”

  “Well realistically what are our options then?” Heath looked around the room.

  “If it’s a private bounty, we can keep going,” Jenny Mae said. “Just follow the plan we were already on.”

  “A private bounty means we find who set it and crush them,” Ekaterina said. “They are clearly not confident in facing us themselves.”

  “Who would it be though?” Copperfield asked. “Like if it isn’t the Syndicate, that means it isn’t from the Accountant thing.”

  That pulled them all up short. Heath, and the others, had assumed the assassin had reached his friends and the bounty was a result. If that wasn’t the case, then who had issued the bounty was a valid question.

  “Yeah, that’s the worse news.”

  “That’s what you’re supposed to lead with,” Jenny Mae whispered. “Everyone knows that.”

  “Bounty isn’t just for you all. Fact is, it isn’t about you lot at all.”

  “Pretty sure it is,” Heath said. He was understanding now how Emerald maintained a friendship with someone they hadn’t seen in decades. If Whet was his friend, they probably wouldn’t talk all that often either. “Pretty sure we fought a bounty hunter off a week ago. Or was that guy just an idiot attacking the wrong ship?”

  “Nah. But it’s the ship that’s the target, not you lot. No mention of the crew at all.”

  Heath felt the blood drain from his face. If someone was after the Loon, that meant their secret was out.

  “Now leave. I’m busy.” With that not-at-all-fond farewell, their host traipsed back into their warren. Banging noises followed but Heath was past caring about that asshole.

  “Shit,” Copperfield hissed.

  “Back to the ship. Now.”

  ************

  They spilled onto the bridge, five voices speaking at once as they relayed the news.

  “I don’t understand. We have done everything we could. I have done everything I could. How have we been discovered,” the Loon moaned.

  “I don’t know if we can figure that out,” Heath said, “but right now we need to know what our options are.”

  “I still say we keep going.” Jenny Mae projected their current route on the main view screen. “If we get far enough away, no one will care.”

  “That just means more people find out there’s something going on with the ship,” Copperfield countered.

  “Change the name?” Emerald offered. “New paint job, new name, get a new transmitter id and no one will ever know.”

  “Would that work?” Heath asked.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  The Disgraced Captain shrugged. “You’d be surprised what a name change can cover up.”

  “Crewmember Emerald, your point is valid, however I worry. Surely such a thin veneer will eventually be peeled back, and then what? We are simply in the same place we have always been. I must admit, I am also concerned about such a change. For one such as I, who has been awake for so short a time, what could such a change to my underlying code do? Would who I am now remain, were I to change who I am, my very identification?”

  “We’ll keep that as a last resort,” Heath said. To be fair, he wouldn’t want to change his name either, though if it was that or death then it wasn’t really a choice at all.

  “The path forward is clear,” Ekaterina announced. “It was clear in the old man’s bunker and it is clear now. You all may know life on the frontier, but I know power. The Syndicate allows for these petty bounties, as a way to keep the ambitious members under control, and so that their strongest prospects rise to the top. For those caught up in the games, the only way out is to win.

  “We need to approach the Syndicate and get the bounty redacted.” She crossed her arms and leaned back, daring anyone to contradict her.

  “How in nine hells do you expect us to do that?” Copperfield asked.

  “They have already asked one task of us. We simply offer to complete another.”

  “That’s thin,” Heath said, chewing on his lip. “Though I don’t have anything better,” he added.

  “Fight or run,” Ekaterina said. “Those are our options. In this case, you stand to lose just as much by running, if our secret gets out to a wider audience.”

  “True.”

  The rest of the crew stayed quiet, but Heath could read their opinions in the looks on their faces. And in the echoes the [Crew Sense] facet of his [Leadership] skill was giving him. Emerald was willing, but pessimistic about the outcome. Copperfield thought it would work out, Jenny Mae was flat out terrified of the prospect but with a steel core that meant no matter what, she would come through.

  “If we’re going to be idiots, let’s at least be smart about it,” Emerald said. “Nearest underboss for the Syndicate is in Jazeen. No point messing around with anyone else. They’ll just con us and claim the bounty themselves.”

  “Set us a course to Jazeen, Jenny Mae.”

  *********

  Jazeen was a stunning system, the jewel in the local sector’s crown. What looked to the naked eye like ship-sized shards of diamond orbited the planet in an enchanted weather-control relay. The perfectly clear gemstones turned the day into a rainbow wonderland when they passed overhead. With experience and fine-control, the locals kept the planet in a perfectly balanced cycle. Tourists could come and ensure they would never be rained out of their activities, farmers would be able to count on ideal irrigation for their crops. It was monstrously complex, and most planetary rulers eschewed the extravagance in favor of literally anything else. But Jazeen was a pleasure planet, or fast becoming one, and in such places aesthetics were everything.

  Despite that, Heath found himself in a dank, musty cellar with Emerald at his side as they waited for their appointment with the Syndicate underboss. Going only by Falcon, they were a difficult person to get ahold of. It had taken a week of astronomical berth fees to weasel their way into an audience, and the underboss had yet to grace the pair with their presence.

  Eons later, a secretary opened the door and ushered them in. Dressed in a custom-made suit Heath’s mom would be proud of, the Classer wouldn’t be out of place in any megacorp office. Who knows, maybe crime paid better.

  The hallway kept up the theme of damp and uninspiring, with patches of mold sprinkled in for flair. After a couple of turns, which Heath’s recent dungeon experience told him would be a nightmare to fight through, they reached another door. This one was solid steel, not a spot of rust to be seen despite the damp atmosphere.

  Their guide knocked in a complicated pattern Heath would never remember. At some unseen signal, he opened the door and ushered them through.

  Heath had been a starship Captain for over a year. Almost two. He had fought monsters and men, and done some damn impressive cargo delivering. In that time, if he had learned anything, it was that every criminal had the same damn office. Either that, or the Syndicate had a hideout blueprint from which they didn’t like to deviate.

  Everything was expensive, dark wood, and red velvet, broken up with leather armchairs. A sideboard held a few different liquors, of which Heath could recognize exactly one, and judging by how expensive stygian whiskey was, the cart alone could pay his crew for three months.

  “Not so often we get unknowns approaching our little operation,” came a voice. A beat later, a woman shivered into view. She was dressed to match the room, in a high-necked dress glinting with enchanted thread, and a mandarin-sized ruby nestled in the hollow of her throat.

  “It’s not often I find myself approaching a Syndicate underboss,” Heath replied, “but I’m living in interesting times.”

  “Yes, my secretary relayed your story. How…unfortunate that this mixup occurred.”

  “We agree. Which is why we’re coming to make it right.”

  “That is appreciated.” She paused for effect, and Heath realized with a start there was a Skill being used. Subtle, but it was probing around him all the same. He shuddered to imagine what it could have done before his recent leveling spree.

  “You know, it’s a strange coincidence, Captain. Just before you arrived on-world, we heard another rumor. One about a ship that failed to complete a contracted job.”

  “Huh,” he said. Heath forced every ounce of willpower he had on keeping his expression even. “Weird. Last time we were contracted to deliver some cargo, we made it the whole way without too many issues.”

  “How fortunate,” the Falcon said with a cruel smile. She had them dead to rights and she knew it. Bravado wasn’t much but it was all he had and Heath was sticking to it.

  “Luckily for us all, the Syndicate is a caring organization, which looks out for its members. You made the right choice coming in, Captain, and our past dealings have been quite fruitful. Indeed, a little birdie told me you brought back something quite exciting on your last adventure.

  “That kind of goodwill can buy a little favor. Here’s what we’ll do: Complete one small task for the family, and we will make sure that pesky bounty goes away. And after that, we can discuss any other work we may have for you. How does that sound?”

  There was only one answer he could give. Regret for not taking the chance to escape when it was available washed over him as he accepted the deal.

  “Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together like it was the best news of her week. “It just so happens that I have a job here that could use your unique touch. A delivery we need made.”

  He remained silent and kept his eyeroll on the inside while the Falcon explained the job.

  “Now the route is an established one, but the system you’ll be going to has some enthusiastic wildlife, shall we say. Some sort of hivemind, so do watch out for that. Full warning, our last three shipments haven’t made it, or at least haven’t made it back afterward, so expect some resistance. We’ll have the cargo delivered to your ship tomorrow.”

  Every sentence made it worse. Heath gritted his teeth and nodded along, they were in too deep to try and backout, so he would complete the damn job, get the bounty cleared, and get the fuck out.

  “Do be careful, the contents of the shipment can’t come into contact with oxygen, or it will explode rather impressively. The container is sealed but vigilance is never amiss, we would hate to have to get another batch. Oh, and don’t let the gravity fluctuate more than one standard g either.”

  “Any questions?”

  There were at least a hundred running through his mind. “No.”

  “Very well, a few more things.” She proceeded to list an entire cargo bay’s worth of supplies they would be transporting, and the minute instructions for each. Before making it clear they expected a perfect transport and zero loss or the Syndicate would be very, very disappointed.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Captain.”

  The smile and laugh followed him all the way back to the Loon.