Jinx surrendered her com at the door and followed her escort through a tech and chem detector. Nerves replaced impatience as she was scanned and eyeballed. Security on the meeting room was tight, bringing home the potentially galactic financial and political implications of the Xykeree attack. Tirus 7 might be a lump of space grit, but it lay in the Coalition's sandbox.

The room she stepped into matched expectations. Big. Impersonal. Full of unsmiling people in military uniforms and expensive suits.

Eight individuals sat behind a long, curved table, facing a large screen and lectern. All were Coalition elite: politicians, diplomats, military heads. She recognised a few from news clips.

In addition to data pads, nearly every single one of the VIPs wore headsets and HUD eyewear, allowing coms privacy. Most would have neurotech as well.

Two aliens sat amongst the group: a Ha'Vokoean with an artificial eye embedded in his armoured forehead, and a pale amorphous life form encased in a portable biosphere unit filled with blue liquid, a species Jinx hadn't seen before. Its gelatinous body and two unblinking eyes rippled with ever-changing colours, reminding her of an Earth cuttlefish.

Around the edges of the room, lesser beings stood waiting for orders. Others sat at subsidiary desks, tapping data pads, Kaplan among them.

Hands clenching, Jinx fought down conflicting emotions. In his dark service uniform, Kaplan looked even more remote than usual. One silver and two gold pips gleamed at his short, high collar, all shaped like spiked suns—the symbol of the Coalition military.

He glanced up, his usual inscrutable expression in place.

The jump in her pulse she couldn't stop, but she killed a defensive smirk. Whatever inconvenient personal tension lay between her and Kaplan, it had no place in this room.

Her bald escort gestured to the lectern.

With the enthusiasm she reserved for vessel biowaste searches, she moved to the plex stand. Hooking her hands behind her back, she ordered herself not to fidget.

God, she needed this over with already.

Unfortunately, no one else in the room appeared to feel that way. The verbal conversations around her showed no sign of halting. Nor did the non-verbal ones. Most people were interfacing with their tech. A number of people in the room wore ear headsets like Kaplan's and his cousin's. The units were sleeker-looking than those the rest of Kaplan's team wore. Probably neurotech compatible. A subtle status symbol.

The whine she heard around Kaplan hummed beyond the chatter, right on the edge of hearing. Some weird tech had to be involved.

Her headache sharpened. Knives at her temples.

The sensation triggered a memory: her in the Bullhead's hold, fighting a similar headache as thoughts of her parents cascaded.

She took a long breath, repressed the recall, but the headache continued to drill at her skull. Missing her damn lunch hadn't done her hangover any favours. She needed a burger, stat, with a side of frigging pain meds. Glitching out in her present company was not an option.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted. Casual conversation began to flow. Comments about yesterday's catered lunch. Plans to fit in a gym workout before the next session. People started to stand up and ... leave.

Jinx gripped her wrist tighter behind her back, shifted with a click of uncomfortable high heels. The bastards were going on break? What. The. Hell?

The noisy exodus continued until only four people remained. A cool blonde in a pale blue pants suit stood, hands behind her back, not far from Kaplan. At the main table, the weird alien in the biosphere undulated with ever changing colours. Beside it, an older woman in pristine white robes tapped her data pad, her cropped hair a dramatic black cap.

Recognising the woman, Jinx felt her palms go damp. Eshia Shau, StarSec One's Prime Representative on the Coalition's High Council.

One of the eleven most powerful people in government.

An almost endless minute of silence.

Then quick footsteps. A well-groomed male in a grey suit strode into the room, one over-tanned hand gripping a data pad, the other yanking nervously at a paisley tie. With a mumbled apology for his lateness, he slid into a desk at the rear of the room, a few stations over from Kaplan.

The high councillor finally looked up, revealing a hard, angular face. Arctic blue eyes glinted behind a top-spec HUD visor. Cosmetic science had artfully frozen her complexion at an age around fifty Earth years, but according to public record, Shau was some decades older.

Not difficult to believe. Something behind her stare whispered of humanity worn thin.

The whine in Jinx's ears increased. She tried to loosen her jaw to ease it—had no luck. Wiping damp palms against her skirt, she made herself ignore the aggravating buzz and focus. The questions were about to start.

With unhurried, precise movements, the councillor put aside her data pad. "Ms Koel, thank you for joining us today. Please confirm you understand that everything discussed in this room is classified, that this discussion is covered by the confidentiality agreement you signed, and that any breach of that agreement will be considered a criminal act and potentially as treason."

Jinx let silence fall again, her jaw tightening right back up. That warning hadn't been delivered as a mere formality. It seemed the councillor had decided the lowly backworld civilian in front of her was going to be a problem.

Elites. They'd call security at the merest whiff of underprivilege.

"Ms Koel," Shau prompted.

"Yes," Jinx responded, squarely meeting the woman's gaze. "I understand that the thirty-five-page document I was forced to sign in relation to the confidentiality of these proceedings covers everyone's arses but mine, if that's what you're asking."

Another stretch of silence. The high councillor's lips thinned. Jinx recalled Kaplan's exact message that morning: professional dress—check the attitude at the door. Tugging at a tightly buttoned sleeve, she offered no apology. She was homeless, the next thing to starving, and wearing pastel. Dressing up her mood was beyond her.

A few more tense seconds passed before Shau gestured to the blonde in the pants suit.

The young woman headed to the front of the room, her strides long and graceful.

The weird buzz in the room abruptly worsened.

Jinx resisted the urge to drill a finger in her ear—tensed as the blonde stopped only a couple of metres away. Rather than speak, the woman cocked her head, her green eyes turning passive—a sure sign she was interfacing with some unseen tech, maybe talking to someone via neuro coms. She wore a headset like Kaplan's, neurotech compatible. The high councillor did also, next to her elegant HUD eyewear.

The tinnitus-like whine became almost painful.

Jinx stifled a defensive demand to know what was going on. Like these bastards would tell her anything. And damned if she'd give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

As the uncomfortable moment drew out, a crease appeared between the blonde's eyes. It deepened after another few seconds, as if she, too, fought a migraine. She jerked a step closer, her grace deserting her.

Jinx held her ground. "There anything I can help you with, blondie?"

The woman blinked, gave her head a shake, then faced Shau and the amorphous alien floating in blue goo beside her. "I concur with Lieutenant Commander Kaplan's assessment."

Jinx snapped her gaze to Kaplan. What damn assessment?

"Thank you, Regina." With a flick of fingers, Shau sent the blonde back to her post.

Another minute passed as the councillor reviewed something on her data pad.

Jinx shot Kaplan another questioning look and caught the slight shake of his head—a subtle warning. It only increased the unease building in her gut. What the hell had they just "assessed"? What were they looking for?

"Ms Koel." The councillor finally looked up again. "Please confirm you are the daughter of Coalition citizen Ollyus John Drune."

Jinx's stomach slid away.

There was only one reason her father would come up.

She jerked her gaze back to Kaplan, her breath coming in shallow. His total lack of expression kicked her hard. A raw sense of betrayal struck next, though she knew she had no reason to expect better.

How long had he known? Why hadn't he goddamn warned her?

Because he'd known she'd bail.

Any soft-headed feelings she might have humoured died a swift death. She murdered him with her eyes and mouthed, "Dead man walking."

"Ms Koel," Shau spoke sharply. "Please confirm your relationship with Citizen Drune, and that your father has been diagnosed with a familial illness."

The urge to leave—to just walk the hell out—became tangible. Jinx resisted it—just. Despite what these arseholes might think, she hadn't lost touch with reality. People had died. Further bloodshed couldn't be allowed. "I'm here to talk about the Xykeree attack on Tirus 7. Any questions about Ollyus Drune should be directed to his physicians on Sylus 3."

"Ms Koel." Shau placed her pad down again, no longer interested in the private medical records she'd no doubt been reviewing. "I understand this is a sensitive matter for you. However, given the political sensitivity of the current situation, it would be remiss of this committee not to test the veracity of your evidence. We've reviewed your youth criminal record and performance reviews from your past"—she flicked cool eyes to her data pad—"eleven jobs. But it is your father's situation that raises the greatest concern. As we've been unable to ascertain your current health status, your cooperation in providing the missing data would be appreciated."

Jinx's jaw dropped. They'd got her juvie and job records? Within two days? That information was dispersed over a number of different backworld systems and pop ships. They'd have needed hyperspace ships and coms. Someone had gone to a stupid level of trouble and expense.

But then, political arse covering had a serious budget.

And she was a liability.

Lip curling, she looked from Shau and her alien companion to Kaplan. Screw them all. The bastards could deploy a thousand data couriers; they'd get nothing definitive on her health. One of the few pieces of 'loving' motherly advice she'd ever followed was Loni Koel's warning to avoid doctors "because they lock up brain-damaged fuck-ups".

"Ms Koel," Shau continued briskly. "If you are unable to provide this committee with a full medical history, Doctor Farnquar"—she gestured to the man tugging on his tie—"will conduct the necessary tests."

Jinx's sneer fell away. Something that felt too much like panic fluttered in her chest. "You are not serious."

The councillor's expression hardened. "We only have your word that an unidentified organic of possible human origin was found on a Xykeree vessel prior to the attack on Tirus 7. It was you who strained interspecies accord by placing the vessel under quarantine—a judgement made after a loss of consciousness, which you failed to report to your superiors. I'm sure you can appreciate that your behaviour and the reasons for it have ramifications now, as we seek to mend the peace."

"You think I'm a liar, insane, or both." Jinx fought a wave of memories from the barge—confusion and fear. Damn it. She hadn't imagined that blood. Not that that frigging mattered now. "Guess my word's shit next to that of a horde of flesh-eating locusts."

Shau's stare bored holes. "I suggest you take these proceedings seriously, Ms Koel."

"And I 'suggest', you sanctimonious hell cow, you're not taking me seriously. How about we save ourselves some time here? You have my statement. You have a trash bin on at least one of the electronic devices strapped to your temporally paralysed face. Fucking use it. I have nothing more to add to this discussion. I do, however, have friends I need to find—since my goddamn home planet got trashed by roaches. Or was that another of my delusions? Fuck knows." She stepped back from the lectern. "We done here?"

Shau stared. Everyone did. Jinx felt the burn of Kaplan's gaze, but couldn't look at him. She'd go for his throat. He'd put her in this room. He'd made her wear a frigging skirt—as if what she looked like, how she acted, would goddamn matter. Fuck it. She'd put her life on hold for these people, and in the end, her words and time meant less than nothing.

Shau looked to the alien beside her then to the nervous doctor at the back of the room. "PDT. An option?"

"Ah—possibly, councillor." The man cleared his throat; smoothed his tie. "Tests have only been conducted in two aberrant subjects, due to their low occurrence in the population. A third subject would, ah, enhance the data we have. I'd recommend a full bio-diagnostic prior to drug administration, however, to determine inter-subject similarities and predict chance of success and possible unwanted effects."

Jinx blinked. Drug what?

Kaplan spoke before she could find words. "Councillor Shau, Dr Farnquar, I would respectfully suggest that the decision to administer experimental neuro-agents to a Coalition citizen be delayed until the delegation has had a chance to review the other evidence." His eyes, flat steel, met Jinx's. "Officer Koel, I assume the forms you signed did not include a release for medical procedures?"

"Fuck no, they didn't." Jinx's heart hammered. What psycho shit was this? These people wanted to drug her? With what? Antipsychotics? Truth serum? She hadn't goddamn lied. She'd given Kaplan only the observations she knew to be factual. Nothing related to hallucinations, nightmares, or paranoia.

Kaplan looked to the councillor, his expression every bit as coldblooded, but Jinx sensed hot undercurrents. As the now frantic buzz in her skull escalated, the realisation hit that Kaplan had just stuck his neck out for her—and might yet get it snapped.

High Councillor Shau finally spoke, not looking away from Kaplan. "You are dismissed, Ms Koel."