And the days pass…

"S'Funny how you become used to the free-pass a warrant gives you. The amount of procedure we have to go through just to see her is annoying." Johnny stood in front of the long mirror in Dutch's room, frowning at the white button-down he'd put on. "Is it supposed to look like this?"

"Honey, if you mean 'finer than the husband of a Seyah,' then yes." Pree smiled approvingly from a step behind him. He only looked scruffy because he'd been growing his old beard back. "Who knew you clean up so nicely."

"Thanks," Johnny said. But his eyebrows were still knitted together, he wasn't convinced. "Do I wear a vest on top of this, or—"

"I think this will fit." Seemingly out of nowhere, Pree presented a maroon silk and gold embroidered waistcoat.

"Oh, Pree. This is—" Johnny stroked his hand over the fine threads, giving a half-smile. "Is this from your wedding?"

"Traded it for two pints of moonshine with one of my groomsmen who survived the ceremony." He said, then made a dismissive gesture with the wave of his hand. "And the bombing."

"This wasn't yours? This is your color though."

"I burned everything when Juno and I split up." Pree handed it to him. At the moment he was wearing a chunky woven gray top and slate pants. Very nondescript, easy to clean. "Go on. Put it on."

It fit very well, especially when Pree tightened the back of it and the shape of it hugged his torso. Johnny frowned a little. It did look good.

"Ooh, does Alvis know?" Dutch had come in without him hearing the door open. Clearly he needed to snap out of it.

"Stop, would you." Johnny angrily fussed with the buttons on his sleeves and ignored Pree's overly curious gaze.

"What about Alvis?" His eyebrows were raised, and a smile played on his lips.

"He only left a short while ago," Dutch said scandalously. "Since they began their torrid affair they can't keep their hands off one another." She tilted her head down so her smile was more raunchy. Waggling her eyebrows turned the whole show into a joke.

Pree gasped, his hand up to his mouth. "How tragic! He had to leave to attend to his revolution, meanwhile the killjoys must play politics." He dropped the act and smiled a little. "Well I'm glad somebody around here is getting some. I just wasn't expecting anyone to take you to church, Jaqobis."

Johnny shrugged. "Hey, so, you think we'd just have to ask Seyah Simms to see her daughter, right?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

Dutch motioned for him to follow her, and they went to the bridge. "I think we're in a bit of a bind with her. She's publicly pleased we returned her daughter, despite there being no active warrant, but privately I'm sure she's very cross."

"Based on the way she spoke to me, I thought the Simms family disowned Pawter." Johnny sat down beside Dutch.

"Disappointed, at least," Pree added.

"Well, hopefully we'll get a chance to see what our next move is." Dutch nodded and gave Johnny a serious look. "We owe her the offer of a prison break if she wants it. At the very least."

"Yeah. It might trigger a warrant though. We can't protect her from everyone."

Dutch nodded and they settled in for descent.

Dutch had her Qreshi outfit on again, but her hair was lightly bound in a bun at the nape of her neck, whereas last time it had been tied back more simply. She was trying for a good impression. They'd never been to the prison on Qresh before— they'd never had a reason to.

D'avin entered from the ship and the room fell silent.

They docked without incident.


Security wasn't high, but their entrance to the prison followed a ritualized nature. The foursome was buzzed through several doors, passed on from guard to guard, but in fact the entire complex looked more like a castle that had missed its last renovation than a prison. The gardens outside were curated, and there were glass ceilings that provided ample exit for those who would dare an escape. As they walked Johnny created half-a-dozen plans that could easily get Pawter out— if she wanted to go.

At last they were led into a cafeteria like room. Some other inmates were sitting at tables, as richly dressed as their visitors. They certainly all looked healthy and unworried by their incarceration.

On the other hand, Pawter looked like she was in prison. When she emerged through swinging doors she was wearing a simple white shirt and comfy striped pants. Her robe was the most costly thing, soft looking but without the shininess that so many pricey garments had. Her face was worn, sickly pale, with dark circles under her eyes. But her smile came easily, and her hair was freshly washed, she smelled of Qreshi citrus fruits.

"Hello," she said, her voice a little husky.

They all got up at once to hug her. It was easier as group, and Johnny hoped Pawter ignored the looks they were getting from the more formal people.

"It's nice to see some friendly faces. I'm beginning to think the only nice people left in this system work on the nursing staff here."

"Darling, are they treating you all right?" Pree took her hand as they sat down.

"Yes, it's okay. They're firm with me, but—" She shrugged.

"How's your, you know." Johnny's voice was hushed.

"It's good to see you," D'avin said, smiling.

"Did they give you a fair trial?" Dutch asked.

Pawter looked at her squarely as she answered. "Yes. For manslaughter of a Qreshi royal I am to serve out the rest of my cleansing, then am barred from ever practicing medicine wherever the Company has reach. Thanks for asking." She smiled at D'avin like it was nothing, and took one of Johnny's hands as well. "It's good to see you, too. I'm doing well. And Johnny, don't you look especially fine." She grinned at him.

"What does that mean, your cleansing?" D'avin asked.

"Until I'm sober. They do a special program to get people sober safely, but it isn't quick. It also hurts. A lot."

Pree squeezed her hand sympathetically.

"Do you want us to bust you out?" Johnny leaned in to speak very low.

Pawter laughed, a bright sound that rang like a bell. Disarmingly pretty, like she was.

"Guys, I'm not in a prison. I'm in the best rehab program money can buy." She looked tired, but the weight that had been holding her down so long had been lifted. "I'll be free forever soon enough. Just let me do it right, okay?"


Dutch split after they'd visited Pawter in her 'rehab'. She took a long walk around Medidas, stopping at the bar she'd gotten so drunk at. They weren't even open yet and the burly man sweeping the floor shook his finger at her when he recognized her. She waved jovially, like it was nothing, and moved on. She walked in the opposite direction of Hector Feraanz and the station, knowing better than to proposition an officer while on duty. She went to the only other place she knew.

"If you're here to talk about the sentence, there's nothing I can do. The vote was unanimous." Delle Seyah sat at a dressing table in a scrumptious purple robe, and was taking her earrings out. Nearby a disinterested young woman stared out the window at the pale blue afternoon. "It's not as though the prisons for Qreshi are anything like they are for Westerlans." She smiled wickedly at Dutch over the mirror she was sitting in front of. "She's probably back home, in her old room, everything as it should be."

Dutch still hadn't said anything, so Delle Seyah stood with a heavy sigh. "Look. If you're here to maim me or something, don't bother." She jerked her head at the star-gazing woman. "Patci will have your head before I've even chipped a nail."

"I've not come here to hurt you," Dutch said.

"What then?" Delle Seyah cocked a pose, resting one hand on her hip, crumpling the fabric of her delicate dressing gown without a second thought.

Dutch stepped forward so abruptly, grabbing the Seyah's collar roughly, that the girl at the window was startled into action and had a gun out and on Dutch in a flash.

"To do this," Dutch said, before pulling her close and crushing their mouths together. With a lazy flick of Delle Seyah's hand, Patci turned away.

The robe slipped down, revealing periwinkle lingerie beneath a flawless decolletage. The Seyah's mouth was on Dutch's collarbone, and her fingers tugging the blouse out of Dutch's pants. It soon hit the floor. She lowered her mouth further, nipping gently at the skin of Dutch's breasts.

"Seyah!" she gasped.

"Oh, please. Would you just call me Delle already?" She recaptured her mouth, and for a second Delle fumbled with Dutch's hair, finally find the pin in it, letting it tumble down.

Dutch pulled back and shook her hair, eyes catching on Delle's swollen lips and lingering on flushed skin.

"I knew I liked you," Delle said, tracing Dutch's jawline to the mouth that had to stay open to breathe.

Dutch opened the robe all the way and looked at Delle with heavy eyes. "Where to next, my lady?"

"Wherever you want, Yalena," Delle said and pulled her hand lower.


"Hey—" Johnny spoke into the comm. "Man." Really? Man? he thought. He silent made a very angry gesture while the connection remained active. "Just wondering if you had a minute. I'm back on Westerly, wouldn't mind seeing you."

The comm beeped, signaling the message had been sent and the line went dead. Lucy engaged park without more than a word from John, and he trudged down the ramp into the hall, wondering what he was doing with himself, anyway.

"Hey." Pree emerged from the lounge and jerked his head back toward it. "Your brother's being a real killjoy. What happened to him? He's more intense than usual."

"We don't know." Johnny shrugged. "You coming with me?"

"Yeah," Pree said. "It was good to get away and see the doc, but real life has to pick up again, sometime."

"You joining the revolution?" Johnny asked. He crossed his arms and leaned comfortably against the wall.

"Ash would love it if I did, I've put in a word with a distant cousin in New City, when I hear back…" He sighed. "Oh, damn the trees. It would have been so much easier if those damn terrorists hadn't blown everything to bits. We were all eking by just fine."

"Wasn't much of a life," Johnny said quietly.

"We can't all make a living chasing tails." He smiled. "Double meaning intended."

Johnny thumped him on the back. "I'll walk back with you, just give me a sec."

He stuck his head into the lounge where D'avin was staring out ahead of him, but not quite spacing out, it was like he was seeing more than just air.

"Hey, D'av."

When D'avin turned to look at his brother, it wasn't as though he had just noticed him— it seemed to Johnny that there was very little that D'avin wasn't aware of in such close quarters. The unsettling feeling that every action didn't have an equal opposite reaction now was pervasive. Johnny wanted to pick up the connection he'd built back up with him, but it felt like his brother had been replaced. Was D'avin even his brother anymore? Maybe there was nothing left of the person he'd been?

Did it matter? They'd barely known each other for the better part of the last decade.

As though he could read Johnny's thoughts, D'avin cast down his eyes and stood, he was very careful to not let their gazes meet.

"I know things are weird right now, and I can't—" D'avin's voice choked. "I can't seem to find the words to tell you what happened."

When he looked up at Johnny, his eyes were ablaze. "I'm still the same guy, though. Just more aware."

"I know, D'av." Johnny groaned in exasperation. "I just don't know what to do with you now. I was gonna go check on—" he gulped, remembering his suspicions of who might be listening beyond this room. "I was gonna check on the people underground, and with all that's happened, your involvement with Red 17—" his voice began to rise— "your disappearance, I mean, you won't tell us what happened to you. We don't know what Khlyen wants with Dutch, what he's doing in the Rack."

"Can't," D'avin corrected, a strangled look on his face. "I can't tell you, something stops me."

Johnny wanted to tear his hair out. He threw a hand into the hair, like 'exactly' and huffed.

"I think it's better if you stay here. Guard the ship or whatever."

D'avin nodded, the slightest touch of sadness in his face. "I understand," he said.

Johnny wanted to storm out, but for better or for worse, he couldn't write his brother off so easily. Not even then, certainly not now.

"Okay," he took a step back out of the room. "See you soon. Keep your comm link open."

He tapped Pree on the shoulder as he passed him by, saying: "Let's go."


The sun was setting when Dutch awoke. Delle still slept beside her, and behind a silk partition Patci was silhouetted in a glow. The dusty rose light that covered Delle was beautiful and Dutch enjoyed being able to look at her unhindered, without having to worry about professional courtesy or ulterior motive.

She sighed, there always was an ulterior motive.

Delle made a little groaning noise, cute in a way, and stretched. She opened her eyes and looked immediately to Dutch. There was no regret, no fear in her piercing eyes. She pulled the sheets back up over her tawny body, hiding her russet nipples and turning onto her side to face Dutch.

"How did you sleep, Yala?" She traced a finger along Dutch's face.

"Well." It was a slippery slope into being distant from one-word answers.

Delle chuckled. "Back to business so soon?" She'd heard it, too. She dropped her hand to Dutch's neck, running her hand along the line of it, to her shoulder, onto her waist, dipping beneath the fabric to grip her butt and pull her close. "Didn't we have fun, killjoy?"

They kissed again, a taste of expertly oak-aged hokk on their tongues, and something else more tangy as well. Dutch liked the idea of going yet another round, but Delle kept her from pulling the sheet away from between them.

"No, first I'd like to know what this tryst is going to cost me."

"Excuse me?" Dutch hadn't realized that she'd come across as a sexer. "I'm not— I didn't—"

"Oh, hush." Delle sat up, still resolutely covering herself, and reaching for the crystal glass of water beside her on a table. "As much as fun as this has been, I know that I didn't seduce you. You came because you needed something." She laughed once. "Well, I've taken care of one thing at least."

Dutch scowled, sitting up as well, not liking the contrast the deep-gold sheets made against her brown skin. She'd have liked a color more like the one Delle had been wearing when she'd come in. The gold looked fabulous against Delle however. Dark hair rumpled in a way that was sexy because it said she'd just been fucking.

"Is it about Red 17?" Delle asked.

Dutch couldn't help her reaction, her eyes went wide and she gasped inaudibly, staring at Delle, who nodded, rushing her along with a gesture.

"I'm looking for the man who runs it. Khlyen is his name." The words were out before she'd thought long about them.

"Just Khlyen? No last name? Like you?" Delle smiled to herself. "What makes you think I could get in touch with him?"

"I realized that you two have your interests overlapping, but I'm not sure why, or even what they are." She frowned a little. "I just need to talk."

Delle sighed. "Okay," she said, but it was as good as a non-answer. She got up, letting the sheet fall half onto the floor. "Time to start the night."


Ashtur was just coming aboveground behind the old mine entrance when Johnny and Pree made it to the tunnel's mouth. She smiled when she saw them, and threw an easy arm around Pree, standing on tip-toe to kiss him on the cheek.

"Have fun on Qresh? How's doc?"

"Sober." Pree said, a laugh on his face, his eyebrows cocked. "Which I wish I wasn't."

Ashtur shook her head. When she looked at Johnny, her expression was more guarded, and she didn't meet his eye for long. "What about you? How you doing?"

"I'm fine. Dutch is taking care of some personal business, I was wondering if Alvis is around?"

Pree rolled his eyes. "Didn't you already leave him a message?"

"He's doing some thinking, logistics and the like, needed to take a walk to clear his head, you shouldn't probably—" She stopped speaking a moment, biting her lip and considering him. "You'll find him wandering the western market, probably, near Pree's place, near the execution rack." She reached into her pouch to get out the data pad, pull up the rough map they had been pouring over all morning.

"Let me get you coordinates, they won't be exact but—"

"No, I got it." Johnny pulled out a blue pair of glasses and smiled at her.

She wanted to smile back at him, but it was a slow reaction. There was some awkwardness between them that she couldn't easily remedy.

"How's Fi?" he asked.

"Good." She smiled easily. "She asked about you, wants to know when you two going on your next mission."

"That kid—" his smile was a little lopsided, annoyed as in a joking manner, very warm, and it was nice. Ashtur thought she'd have liked John more if she'd met him under different circumstances. "She complained the whole time we were out. She was a trooper though." He'd softened his voice, and when he looked at Ashtur, she saw something that she recognized from the mirror she used to look in every morning. "After we've taken the planet, then she's the first gal I look up. You can tell her that."

"I'll just say 'soon,'" Ashtur said.

We, she thought, and a chill ran up her spine. Where did Alvis dug up this one? Was he for real?

"Thanks," Johnny said.

And he left, walking lightly away.


Dutch dressed slowly, disliking the turn her carefree evening had taken. She would have happily stayed the night, even if it had been the one and only time. Delle seemed to be done with her, however. She may have had no regrets, but Dutch certainly hated that she'd fallen into the trap and asked for something. She tucked in her boots and stood, surprised by the attendant that waited for her at the bottom of the steps from the platform the bed rested on.

"If you're ready, dinner arrangements have been made, my lady." The slight woman made a bow and gestured to the door.

Dutch couldn't help the flutter in her chest. She slung the light jacket over her shoulder and entertained the smile that was on her lips. She knew better than to imagine what would happen after she sat down with Delle to eat, but she could freely imagine the sultry gown she might wear, the color of her bustier…

There was only a small table looking out over the sea, and while the table was set for two, Dutch was the first to arrive. The attendant deposited her and left again. The server pulled out her chair.

"Would you like something to drink, my lady?" he asked as she sat.

"Just water is fine," she said, a little subdued. She reasoned that the table would not be set for two if Delle was not joining her. So she took a piece of bread— still warm, freshly baked!— and drank water. She couldn't help but turn to look expectantly when the door opened. Her face went white and she almost choked on the bite she'd just taken when she saw who it was.

"Not expecting to see me so soon, I gather?" Khlyen sat and put his napkin on his lap, an amused twitch in his mouth. "Gabriel, I think we're ready to be served dinner." He reached out a hand to cover Dutch's and actually looked concerned. "Breathe, Yala. You're not choking, are you?"

She withdrew her hand and swallowed the bread down, but she didn't dare to take another bite.

"Normally I wouldn't be able to come so quickly, but I happened to be in the neighborhood," Khlyen said.

Gabriel served soup first.

"Come on, keep your strength up. It's partridge and mushroom cream. Fabulous! Seyah Kenndry's chef is one of the best in the Quad."

Dutch only had a few spoonfuls.

Then Gabriel served salad, which Dutch used as inspiration and stared coldly at Khlyen.

"What do you have to say for yourself."

Khlyen frowned while chewing. "Little bird, you'll give me indigestion if you interrogate me while we eat." He gestured with his fork. "So you might as well eat."

Next Gabriel served fish, something freshly caught. Then poultry which Dutch did try and rather enjoyed, and lastly Gabriel brought a grazing red meat which Dutch ate all of. She wiped her mouth and then tucked the sharp knife it came with into her napkin.

"Actually, I came to ask you for something," Khlyen finally said when Gabriel served the fruit.

Dutch was all reaction, a coiled spring waited to be triggered, and the knife was at Khlyen's throat before he could take his next breath. Something hard pressed Dutch from behind.

"That's not necessary, Gabriel," Khlyen said, and the server removed the blaster from Dutch's back.

"We both know that's no good, little bird." He waited for her to remove the sharp edge, but she continued to stand, the knife hovering near but not touching him. He began to eat their last course. "What I was going to say was, I need you. Many people will get hurt. Take your time though, finish your dessert."

"Haven't I given you enough?" Dutch finally managed to gasp out the words. Her stomach was full, but the anxious energy that Khlyen bred within her made her feel empty. She had no choice but to sit.

"On the contrary, I gave you everything and you have yet to repay that." He thumped the table with a heavy finger as he spoke. She looked at him with fear, yet he returned her questioning gaze with one of real tenderness. "Yala, I care so much for you. I wouldn't push you if I didn't think you could do it."

She pulled her hand away when he reached for it.

"I understand that there may be a bridge we still need to build between us. So I arranged for a little token of good faith." He wiped his mouth, placed his napkin on the table and stood. "Your highness."

Dutch turned and was glad she was still sitting, unsure if her legs would have held. She first saw his eyes, those which always caught her even in a crowded room, dark without light reflecting in them, but so bright, like he saw her and through her and he enjoyed looking at all she was. He was still the most beautiful man she'd ever seen with unforgettable topaz skin and soft black hair, and he rolled in on a wheelchair.

"I'm sure you remember Prince Kohli," Khlyen said.