Kaplan strode up to the reception desk of the Silver Dawn's prison facilities, Atlas on his heels. The officer on duty straightened smartly behind his bank of screens. The absent thoughts of a sixty-year-old man thirty minutes from finishing his shift with a beer snapped to those of a Ship Security sergeant, one who recognised a pair of Space Corps officers. And trouble.

Kaplan didn't bother with niceties. "Two of your officers, Landon and Pi'akk, brought in a woman in the last hour. Jinsin Koel. Which cell?"

The sergeant didn't need to check his records, his mind a steel trap. "Not seen Landon and Pi'akk this shift, sir. And no one named Jinsin Koel's been booked. Only female brought in over the last couple of hours was a Throlean stripper who's a regular."

A pit opened up in Kaplan's stomach. "Locate your officers. I need to speak with them urgently." As the man snapped to the task, Kaplan turned to Atlas. Get Temple onto the security feeds. We need to find Jinx and those two officers.

Atlas nodded and shot his subordinate the instruction via his com.

"Sir." The SS sergeant behind the desk looked up from his tech. "Officers Landon and Pi'akk are not responding. Their coms appear to be offline. Would you like me to contact their supervisor?"

"No." The hollow in Kaplan's gut widened. "Thank you for your assistance, sergeant." He strode back to the brig's IST station, but as he entered a transport pod, he had to press the hold option. He had no idea where to head next.

By now, Jinx could be anywhere on the ship.

She could be dead already.

Something deep in his bones rejected that thought. She was in trouble, but alive. That's all he'd accept.

Atlas strode into the IST pod. "Priority call coming in." He tapped his com. "Temple, what you got?"

Lieutenant Jo Temple's swarthy, angular face filled Atlas' com screen. Her eyes, dark gleams in the glow of her HUD visor, flicked to Kaplan as he moved in, a curt acknowledgement, then shifted back to Atlas. "Vid analysis is running, as requested. Not sure how much help it'll be, though. I've already found signs of interference. The Dawn's surveillance systems are definitely compromised. Someone doesn't want us tracking these officers and their detainee."

"We'll trace their movements from your position." Kaplan punched in the Rha Si wards as the IST pod's destination. "ID witnesses for psionic reads."

"Preparing a list now." Temple tapped something off-screen. "Atlas, I have a prelim report for you on the restoration chamber failure. You were right. The unit was tampered with. Sun's hunting down the suspected saboteur now. Gordon Witmore, a med-tech who joined the crew five years ago. No problems indicated at any of his routine psi-scans. No financial irregularities found so far."

Atlas grunted. "Sun will find his motive soon enough, and how he's linked to the security breaches we've seen."

"Copy that." Temple glanced over her shoulder, offering a glimpse of the white, cylindrical medical chamber behind her. "I've also made progress with our survivor. You're not going to believe what I've found."

"The way this day is going?" Atlas drawled. "Try me."

Temple turned back, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "The guy's headtech's not dead like we thought. It's been reconfigured—to mesh with Xykeree tech. Total hack, but an insanely brilliant piece of programming. One that, according to the command history, took days. Looks like he did it himself, using outdated civilian neurotech—while being held on board and paralysed. Finding him half dunked wasn't dumb luck. I think our guy overrode a Xykeree's bio-tech interface. Briefly took control of the exskel hardware. If he survives and is even halfway sane, we're hiring him. He's a genius with planet-sized balls."

"He was held for days?" Kaplan zeroed in on that unexpected finding. "Not immediately processed for organics?"

Temple nodded. "We were wrong about this guy being a void stray. I've got an ID off his tech. Lenton Sebastian Solaris. He was—"

"The Tirus 7 Data Coms analyst who was investigating my ship's crash site." Disbelief winged through Kaplan. The man was one of Jinx's friends.

Atlas shot Kaplan a taut glance. "He had intel they wanted. Most likely about your ship."

"There's too much trauma to confirm that psionically." Temple shot a look behind her—winced. "But I've sensed an obsessive mental loop, like a recurring nightmare. He's still fighting, still trying to... Something about needing to destroy data and customised neurotech functions, to protect something or someone he traced or can trace."

"The nature of the data?" Kaplan asked.

"Unknown." Temple shook her head as if to clear it. "I just get the impression it was vital to him—personally. Whatever it was, it's gone now. Wiped and overwritten."

Atlas grunted. "Could be he succeeded—kept important intel from the Xykeree. Might be what kept him alive longer than five minutes."

"Hold one sec." Temple lifted a finger to her ear headset, signalling she had an incoming silent message. Her eyes widened before she refocused. "Okay. Report from Sun. Our suspected saboteur overdosed in his quarters just after his last shift. Witmore had no history of substance abuse."

Dead saboteur. No red flags in his background or noted in any mental scans. Kaplan felt his blood ice. The missing ship security officers, Landon and Pi'akk, weren't going to be found alive.

He looked to Atlas. We're chasing someone's pawns.

Atlas' gaze sharpened. You think our traitor is one of us?

Kaplan forced himself to think past what that meant for Jinx—her chances of survival. We need to check all our non-psi personnel. Channing's failed programming might not be a coincidence. She had access to Farnquar's research. She could've sent files offsite.

Channing would never—

Not knowingly, Atlas.

An incoming call alert jerked Kaplan's attention to his com. Fero—not Sun or some worried family member. Kaplan frowned. It was his first call since leaving the wards, and Fero had no official reason to contact him. The surviving personnel of Helios Seven had been put on leave, pending the team's disbandment. A few carefully placed thought blocks had dealt with their suspicions regarding Rha Si health issues. But there'd always been a strong chance that those blocks and an imminent change of reporting line wouldn't be enough to stop Fero sticking his feline nose where it didn't belong.

Somewhere along the line, the cat had given Kaplan his personal loyalty. A verbal censure and an unwelcome psionic intervention wouldn't change that, just piss the Atillian off.

Kaplan accepted the call via his neurotech, keeping the audio inside his skull. He could've used the cat's skills that second, but Fero didn't have the necessary clearance. What is it, Petty Officer?

Lieutenant Commander. A careful address. Forgive the intrusion. I know you're on personal leave and didn't want to be disturbed. I apologise for circumventing your offline status—

I wasn't offline. Kaplan checked his com settings. They read as online, but he had twenty-three new vid messages, including one from Shau, who should have got through as a priority caller. There's a glitch in my tech. What's this call about? And Fero, passive aggressive isn't your style, so skip it and get to the point.

A grunt of agreement on the other end of the link. I just had one of my tracers report back on the activity of a certain undesirable, and was wondering why you gave clearance for the Fire Witch to dock.

Kaplan stilled. Then he rapidly signalled to Atlas that he was taking a call silently and had something. He snapped his attention back to Fero. How secure is this link?

A second of silence on the coms feed. Then a low growl, a sign Fero's hunting instincts had roused. We're good, Kap. What do you need?

Track down who actually approved that ship. Is it still docked?

Left a quarter of an hour ago.

Kaplan felt his throat lock. What docking bay?

Gamma.

Kaplan punched the IST pod controls, redirecting the car to the relevant docking bay. Fero, track that vessel and get me vid feeds of its docking activity. Find out who disembarked or boarded.

But he already knew.

They wouldn't find Jinx on the Silver Dawn.

Fero confirmed that only seconds later: Kap, I'm looking at footage of Jinsin Koel boarding with Heiko Tras and an unidentified male. Looking for an ID now.

An image file flashed up on Kaplan's neurotech, overlaying his vision a moment: Jinx looking pissed beside Tras and a blond male in a Ship Security uniform. The second man carried Jinx's com and duffle bag.

Kaplan wanted to curse. The bag had been taken from his accommodation. That would've required security override permissions.

More images showed Jinx cooperating with the unidentified male—apart from a brief delay to use a coms booth. Her body language didn't indicate she saw him as a threat. Nor did it suggest she knew him.

Kaplan understood. The bag. The clearance under his name. She'd been fooled into thinking she was dealing with friendlies.

Got an ID, Fero reported. The other male is Reihnald Syrus. Bounty hunter—not of the legally licensed kind. A known associate of Tras'. A regular customer. He shouldn't have got through security, Kap.

Kaplan felt no surprise. The enemy had a spider in the Dawn's systems; someone who used mercs and hapless pawns for the physical dirty work. It had to be a Rha Si. Nothing else made sense.

He couldn't leave Fero exposed. Nor unutilised. What I'm about to tell you stays with you, Fero. We've reason to believe we have a traitor on board, and he or she is targeting witnesses associated with the Xykeree attack on Tirus 7. Look into my coms glitch and the false docking approval, but be a ghost in the tech. We're dealing with someone who can manipulate local security and systems. Possibly even personnel directly. He let that unpalatable warning sink in. Stay clear of anyone you think 'smells' wrong. Liaise with Jo Temple. She'll get you clearance.

Silence greeted his words. Then Fero growled, a sound almost below hearing. I'll report back shortly.

Kaplan ended the link and 'pathed Atlas with a summary.

Atlas shook his head. Why hire a criminal your team would recognise?

Jinx knows the bastard. Kaplan clenched his fists. She doesn't like or trust him—

But she'd board his vessel with minimal struggle, Atlas concluded darkly. Kap, they want your girl alive. We're missing something.

Kaplan stifled the conflicting emotions Atlas' words raised. If she's worth this much trouble to acquire, we need to—

We're going after them, Kap. That's a given. But we have a problem. If you're right about that junker's high-warp capabilities, we'll need something faster than a dock hopper. A Fire Spear or Jack Rabbit. For that, we need approval.

And our traitor will know the second we make that request. Before Atlas could respond, Kaplan's com lit up with another call alert. Not Fero. Channing. Fero had to have fixed the suspect coms issue.

Kaplan accepted the call, Atlas at his elbow. "What is it, doctor?"

Channing's wild hazel eyes filled his com's screen. "Senuri, I've—I got a message from Ms Koel. Someone's trying to extort her. They're saying her parents aren't who they claim to be. She sent me their DNA profiles and permission to run an analysis on the blood she provided. I—I've run it." The doctor touched a shaky hand to her forehead. "I've run it three times."

Kaplan's stomach tightened. He silently cursed the com link. If he'd been next to the flustered doctor... "Spit it out, Channing."

"Oh—yes, of course." Channing pulled herself together. "Senuri, I—I've confirmed the extortionist's claims. Ms Koel is not the offspring of the persons claiming to be her parents. I've also confirmed she isn't aberrant. But she is abnormal. I—I mean different. Lord, somehow she's different." The doctor pressed quivering fingers between her eyes. "But the results don't make sense, Senuri. I—I don't understand how she's functional—alive. I mean, she has no management tech. The scans I did on her indicate she's never had any."

Kaplan grabbed the one thing he couldn't quite process out of the rambling report. "Management tech?"

"Y—yes, Senuri. The results indicate Jinx is Rha Si. Born, not altered."