"You want to go where?" Roble's question was understandably astonished and his expression didn't so much say 'are you on drugs?!' to me as scream it while waving neon signs, but I ignored it and answered him in a bright and cheery voice.

"I want to go visit Bobby. He still owes me some credits from the last time I was over there."

"Crash, we're on lockdown."

"Yeah, so?"

Death ran a hand through his short hair in exasperation and shook his head. He didn't even glance at Mason who was leaning casually against the wall behind me. Things were quiet. None of our scouts had seen so much as another gang's ride in traffic. I honestly couldn't see why he was balking at letting us out. Sure, we still didn't know who had taken those shots at Shael and Trapper, but it's not like we were asking him to let us go do a drive-by on the Angels. And the 'Card's territory bordered our own, so we wouldn't even have to cross disputed space.

"Crash, why now? Why didn't you go visit him before the lockdown?"

"I forgot. Look, Bobby and his folks are not going to hurt me. The most they'll do is meet me at the door and tell me to turn around and go home. What's the stress?"

"The stress, my dear slicer, is what if someone else sees you?" Death set his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. "I don't want to be the one who let you out into an unsafe situation."

"Fine, you won't be," I told him happily. He immediately became suspicious, as well he should have, and I continued. "You told me quite firmly not to go out." Nodding once in acceptance of that, I turned and stepped toward the door. I was halfway out of the office when Death rose from his chair and called after me.

"Crash, where are you going?" There was a note of warning and dawning comprehension in his voice.

"To visit Bobby Fawkes. See ya when I see ya."

"Crash!" I kept right on walking and Mason followed me out.

I scooped up my helmet from the rack, and together Mason and I strode across the floor to his swoop. Behind us, the door to Roble's office slammed open and he shouted after us, but I kept walking and Mason followed my lead. I plopped my helmet over my head and the sounds of Armageddon were instantly muffled to an indistinct background murmur. I could no longer hear Roble's shouts that I stop. Death's next tactic would be to have one of the boys stop us, so I hopped up on the back of Mason's ride with no delays and snuggled up against his muscled back as soon as he was astride. The engine coughed once then roared to life. I waved a merry goodbye to the triplets as they rushed toward us, their arms waving in exaggerated motions. Then we eased around the rest of the swoops and gunned it through the exit.

My last view over my shoulder was the sight of Shael's angry, hurt expression.

*******

Three blocks later it occurred to me that Mason hadn't a clue as to where we were going. With taps on his chest, I guided him across the line and into Wildcard territory. It didn't take long for us to pick up an escort. My clearly visible jacket made identification easy for them further aided by the fact that I'm one of the few remaining swoopless Horsemen and my cheery wave was answered in kind. One rider sped off home to let 'em know that company was coming and the rest led us right in.

Bobby Fawkes jogged into the Wildcards' garage to meet us, our engine noise racketing around the interior of the smallish permacrete structure. He stopped short as soon as Qui- Mason pulled off his helmet. It wasn't hard to see that he had been expecting someone else to be at the controls, Sloan maybe.

"Crash, who's your friend?"

I set my helmet on the swoop's seat and skipped forward for a hug. "Bobby, you cad, give me a squeeze." He didn't have to be asked twice, but wasn't to be deterred by my lack of answer to his question. He gave me my hug, then simply turned a questioning gaze Mason's way as soon as he'd released me. My Jedi extended his hand in reply.

"Cade, Mason Cade."

"He's the newest Horseman, Bobby," I explained, moving back to stand by Mason's side in a silent endorsement. "Before you ask, Shael's-"

"Madder than a shaved Wookiee," Fawkes supplied. "He and Death commed us just a bit ago. They mentioned something about a raving lunatic with a death wish who was coming to see me. I thought at first that it might be Ishtari. She's the only one of you that I could come up with that would rocket off during a lockdown. War set me straight on that one in short order."

My smile vanished faster than an unwatched purse in the lower market. "He still thumping his chest and hollering like a Lyran lurker?"

"No, he's past that to smoking at the ears and muttering under his breath." Bobby raised an eyebrow at me and glanced curiously at the tall man standing by my side, where Shael usually was.

"Mason was a convenient ride," I explained. "And I 'spect that he hasn't been around long enough to know better than to listen to you."

"We had a fight, Bobby, and I don't want to talk about it. I needed to stretch my legs and I remembered that you still owe me thirty-seven credits."

As expected, the mere mention of money -- especially the owing part-- chased any thought of delving deeper into my spat with my long time boyfriend right out of Bobby's head. A mercenary gleam lit up his eyes and his lips quirked into a sly half smile.

"Care to give me a chance to win it back?"

I rolled my eyes for effect and nodded. "Sure. Why not. I can use the cash."

Bobby practically rubbed his hands together in anticipation and waved us through the door into the main lounge.

*******

"Kriff!"

The short, emphatic word summed it up for almost everyone at the table. Bobby watched the pile of chips in the center of the table get pulled away from him, and frowned in consternation. I was just glad that it wasn't me he was frowning at. I'm only an indifferent sabacc player, and I'd only barely managed to break even. Mason, on the other hand, had multiplied his original stake by an unbelievable amount.

"Ante up."

As red chips plunked into the center of the table, I sensed that all the other players were only continuing the game for the sake form and not from any real enthusiasm. I didn't blame them. They'd all lost a lot of money to a man who had been playing very badly half an hour ago. Of course, being a Jedi, he had an unreasonable advantage seeing as how he could read the emotions of the players even more accurately than I could.

I was bored with playing, but didn't want to drop out until Bobby and the others decided to call it quits. To do otherwise would have been rude. Win or lose, games of chance only interested me as a way to keep my hands busy while I chatted with friends.

"So, Bobby, how are you guys getting on with the rest of your neighbors?"

"You know what it's like, Crash. Everybody's tense and quite a few of the gangs are starting to get paranoid. It wouldn't take much to push this over into a sector-wide bloodbath. We've already had a few skirmishes with the Demons and the Hounds." Bobby shook his head and signaled for another card. "And I've got a feeling that it's gonna get worse before long."

"I pray to the Force it doesn't," I said quietly and tossed in my hand as my card total jumped up over twenty-three. "That kind of a mess none of us needs."

Mason's mellow voice drifted over the slight sounds of shuffling cards and plinking credit chips. "What I can't figure out," I could hear the slightest of hesitations in his voice as he said 'can't' instead of 'cannot', "is how all this started. I mean, I know that I have not been in the area long, but why is everyone up in arms all of a sudden, and why just in this sector?"

"Mostly it's about money." The nameless cousin who made this revelation tossed down a twenty-two that no one could beat and raked in the small pot of chips. "On the surface it's about territory and pride, but down deep it's all about the credits."

A few surprised looks were pointed his way and the man blushed slightly. "Pay no attention to him, Crash," Bobby told me. "Trev actually went to the university before the cash ran out. He was an Economics major. With him, everything is about money."

"But if it's really all about money, Trev, who stands to gain?" I'm a slicer. I don't know economics from astral navigation, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. "I mean, the gangs all spend money on weapons and energy packs and fixing up the resultant mess, money that could be used for more education, or more food, or better medical supplies. I just don't get it."

"It's the territory, really. The more a gang controls, the more money it can bring in, through legitimate channels or otherwise." Trev appeared to really enjoy his current chance to show off a bit and quickly warmed to the topic while the cards were shuffled and cut. "And the violence the wars inspire actually stimulate the cash flow. The populace is aware of the implied threat and is more likely to cooperate in order to stave off more of it. The resulting mix of cooperation and need balances out in favor of the gang."

"Unless the cops get involved and they manage to pull off a major bust," Bobby grumbled as his brother-in-law dealt the cards. "I've seen entire gangs smashed and scattered that way."

And it was true. There had been several smaller gangs over the years who had gotten too bold in their approach to making money. The cops, when they managed to do anything, were usually terribly thorough. There had been five gangs that I could think of off the top of my head that had come up and been smashed back down by the cops just in the last ten years.

But Velocity was changing all of that. There hadn't even been a minor raid in nearly a standard year. The more I thought about it, the more I didn't like it at all. The raids and the warnings kept the gangs at least partially honest. It also kept them from amassing too much strength or developing dangerous levels of power in their territories. The Horsemen knew that they depended on the people living in their territory. Roble made sure we were on as good terms with the common folk as possible. When we had enough left over we fed the street kids who wander the lower levels in pre-gang packs. We didn't make trouble in stores, paid our bills, and generally kept a low profile. And so far it had worked like a Jedi mind- trick. No cops were trying to infiltrate our gang. None of the Horsemen had warrants against them, at least none that we knew of. And the store owners and food vendors didn't tense up or become hostile when we came around.

That too, was starting to change.

And it all came back to Velocity and what she was doing to our sector. Because of her and her spreading paranoia, the Speed Demons and the Imperium were forted up tighter than the planetary treasury. The Reapers and the Knights, easy neighbors and on good relations with each other, were now lined up along their common border with suspicion in their eyes and ready blasters. Those of us with bigger territories on the edges of the sector could always slip away if push really came to violent shove, but those in the middle couldn't escape and they knew it.

And tossed into that nasty mix were the cops, and the Force only knew what [i]they[/i] were up to at any given time. What with the so called 'spot checks' they would spring from time to time that were only poorly disguised attempts to find an excuse to lock up a gangbanger, it was no wonder things were starting to get radically out of hand.

"Crash?"

I pulled out of my thoughts with a shake of my head and gestured for another card. The second card I asked for gave me a perfect twenty-three. After that it was all down hill for me. What little skill at cards I had, I didn't bother with because I was too busy thinking. Qui-Gon certainly had his hands full with this one, and kriff if I knew how he was gonna solve the problem.

Game over and credits exchanged, my Jedi and I left. I'm certain that the very second the nose of our swoop passed out of the 'Card's garage, Bobby was on the comm telling Death that we were on our way. If I'd had anything to say about it we wouldn't have been, but I wasn't driving.

I didn't particularly want to go right back to Armageddon because I needed to think. A great detective I'm not, but I like to think that if you put all the dots in front of me I could figure out how to connect them given a little time. And I'd been given plenty of dots to consider during that little game of sabacc.

How Qui-Gon -- I knew that I really should try to think of him as Mason, but it was harder than I'd imagined -- had gotten the whole thing started I wasn't entirely sure, but he had a knack for bringing any conversation around to what he wanted to know. And all without seeming to really care what was said.

Money. If it all came down to the money, who was going to benefit? The Horsemen sure weren't. We had very little money, and since we didn't extort credits out of the people in our territory, there was no percentage in increasing our territory by so much as another square meter. What we had was perfect and easy enough to defend and live in. The Angels were pretty much the same, as were the Wildcards and the Hell Hounds. As far as I could see, there was no logical reason at all for hostilities to start so suddenly. There hadn't been any territory stealing in several years, except up in the northeastern area of the sector where the little gangs were constantly breaking apart and reforming. With drug running and other lucrative sidelines the other gangs were all flush credit-wise. And general relations had been very good up until about a month ago. Try as I might, I couldn't pin down a single dot long enough for me to draw a line from it to a neighbor.

I just couldn't figure it out. People were much easier to read than strange, disjointed facts. Computers were even easier than people because computers were logical. They did what they were programmed to do, just that, and nothing more. Computers had no emotions to get in the way of their logic and so could be counted on all the time to either do, discard, or crash.

Take Shael, for instance. The man was infuriating. When I think back on it, I can clearly read the jealousy in his actions, and now I can see where it might have stemmed from, but my own reactions to him were so emotional that I didn't see what should have been painfully obvious. Emotions get in the way of logical thinking. They mess with our minds and can make everything murky and unclear. I've always thought the Jedi had the right idea when they refused to let their emotions rule them.

Sometimes I wish I was a computer.

Better yet, I wish I was a Jedi.

*******

If they couldn't hear our voices outside of the office, it wasn't from lack of trying. I was shouting at the top of my lungs and Death was giving as good as he got. The datacards and holos sitting on the desk jumped every time Roble's heavy fist impacted on the duraplast surface.

"What did you think you were doing?"

"For the thirtieth time: I went for a ride to visit a friend. The patrols haven't seen anything, there's been no news of more fights from the other gangs, I figured it was plenty safe."

"You figured? Crash, I am the one in charge here. I decide when it's safe and when it's not. You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't killed. I half wish I was because then I wouldn't be standing here listening to you rant about my plots to drive you into an early grave."

"I suppose I shouldn't have heart attacks every time you plan to make my life miserable, but-"

"Plan?! You know me, Roble. I don't plan anything except my next slice."

"Yes, you go flying off without a thought of who might have to pay the consequences for your actions. If you're not going to think about how I might react to you pulling stunts like that, at least take a nanosecond to think about how Shael might feel."

That stopped me flatter than a twenty story drop. And in the following sharp silence I couldn't help but remember the look on Shael's face when Qui- Mason and I had returned. At first it had been vast relief, backed by a solid wall of very real fear. Then his emotional safety valve had kicked in and all that had been pushed aside by his well known temper. And that temper only ever served to spark my own. If I hadn't been in that office getting reamed by Roble, I'd have been in one of the other rooms driving an even bigger wedge between Shael and myself.

The ache I felt at the very thought must have been plain on my face because Death eased down into his chair and sighed. "He loves you, Crash. And I know you love him. The two of you make me crazy."

"We make each other crazy," I muttered. "Everyone else we drive completely around the bend into lip-flipping insanity."

I hadn't meant to be funny, but Roble laughed anyway and a bit more of the tension drained away. Roble and I were good for each other that way. Like a brother and sister, we could scream and shout horrible things at each other and then let it all go and be friends again. Shael and I just pump each other up higher and higher until one of us explodes. I prayed fervently that we'd find our balance someday and be able to laugh off things like that.

"I'm really sorry, Roble, but it just seems like every male I know is trying to protect me from living my life," I explained as I slumped down into a chair. "But I'm not a child and I'm not helpless and I chose the life I have. If I screw up and get myself killed, that's my choice, my life. It's not your failure."

Roble looked at me, his expression calm, but serious, and finally nodded. "I know that, Crash, but I couldn't worry about you more if you were my own sister. Most of the guys feel the same way. We just want to keep you safe and happy."

I rolled my eyes. I knew all that. I've heard it dozens of times. It's their standard 'protecting you from yourself' excuse. "If I were as tall and muscley as Ishtari you guys wouldn't do this to me," I muttered.

"True. We don't think of Ishtari as our little sister. More than half the guys would love to date her but are scared to ask. And when you become a Jedi and can see the future, we'll stop hovering and trying to protect you, okay?"

"Okay," I ruefully agreed. [i]//Jedi. Protecting. Oops!// [/i] I jolted suddenly to my feet. "Speaking of protecting people, I need to go find Mason. Shael's just mad enough to blame him for driving me to Bobby's today."

Roble shook his head in weariness. "Yeah, we'd better go see together. The last thing we need now is to kill a prospective member."

*******

I closed my eyes and would have sobbed from frustration if I'd thought it would have done me any good at all. Mason hadn't been touched, but that was because Ishtari had both Shael's arms pinned behind his back and Sloan was standing between them, trying to talk some sense into his older brother. Mason's face expressed an understanding and forgiveness that were only serving to make my man even madder still, and a calmness that only the Jedi or the truly naive could project with any sincerity.

Shael wasn't going to come down from his screaming rage without some serious venting. Anyone could see that. Unfortunately, Roble and I weren't too keen on letting him beat the living Force out of Mason. I mean, I know Jedi are taught to defend themselves, but Shael knows rough hand-fighting as only a street survivor can. It seemed to me that the only way I could defuse the problem was to let Shael scream and shout at me for a while.

"Red, put him in room two for me. I'll be there in a minute." Ishtari nodded and marched Shael away, Sloan beside him, talking quietly the whole distance. As Mason's sponsor I had an obligation to shepherd him and keep him safe, from himself if need be. Not that this one was really his fault at all, but he obviously hadn't figured out that he should have stayed far away from a violently enraged War.

"Mason, you okay?"

"Yes, he was not all that subtle in his approach."

"I take it Ishtari stepped in before he could actually swing at you?"

"No, I ducked the first one, and then she put him in a very neat double hammer lock."

"She likes that one, taught me how to slip it." I sighed and tugged at the hem of my jacket. "Look, he needs to vent a bit to calm down, and even after that I think it would be a good idea if you stayed as far away from him as circumstances allow. He's the type to hold a grudge."

Mason acknowledged that with a nod and I strode away to face the inevitable. //Might as well get it over with. I suppose I should be used to getting yelled at by now.// Ishtari gave me a nod as I met her at the door. She dropped a gentle hand to my shoulder and gave it a squeeze before walking away. Sloan wrapped me in a gentle, brotherly hug. "Go easy on him, he's hurting."

"I know," I whispered back into his ear. He released me, a hopeful little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and walked away.

I took another deep breath. I'd vented in Roble's office, so I needed to keep a lid on my temper while in that room. It wasn't going to be easy because I'd never had any reason to keep a hold on my temper before. Letting my breath out in another weary sigh, I opened the door and stepped in.

And was immediately swept up in a fierce hug.

I was confused beyond all previous definitions of the concept. Shael just stood there and held me tight against him. There was no yelling, there was no shouting, no angry words. In fact, there were no words at all. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him to return the hug. Through the thin shirt he wore, I could feel the tension drain out of his muscles and he sighed, with what I interpreted as relief, into my hair.

"I'm so sorry, Chenowyth, really I am." His breath whispered in warm puffs across the top of my head. "I know you were mad at me, but I didn't think you were that mad. I just can't stand the thought of you getting hurt and I want to ..." he trailed off and his shoulders sagged as he realized where he was heading again. Shael still hadn't released the hug, as if he was afraid that I'd slam the door in his face again. "Please, I only get mad and yell because I'd be lost if you got hurt and it scares me to death. Please speak to me again."

I pulled back a little and he reluctantly allowed me to ease out of his arms. I stood silently, looking up into his face, into his beautiful brown eyes, and was amazed at what I saw there. Someone had been talking to him. Several someones, in all probability. Ishtari, Roble, Sloan and Nash hit the top of my mental list. Whatever they'd said seemed to have taken hold because there was no lingering trace of anger in his expression at all, only fear and pleading and sincerity.

I couldn't help it. Tears welled up and one slipped, warm and damp, down my cheek. "I love you, Shael, but sometimes you make me so kriffing angry."

"I know it won't help to say that I feel the same way, but it's true."

I pushed Shael toward a chair and he took the hint and sat on it. I settled myself in his lap and wound my arms around his neck. "That does help, a little," I told him. "What would help more is not yelling so much."

"I've told you I'm sorry, but I just can't help it."

"You helped it just fine a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, but that's different." I wanted to demand why it was different, but in a rare show of discretion, I held back. Shael continued, "Whenever I see you with that Cade guy, I just, just wanna pound his face in."

"Shael, I'm his sponsor. Besides, no one else in this entire gang would have given me a lift to Bobby's, and you blasted well know it." I shifted around to face him more fully. "I'd have sat on my bunk all day, pouting and staying mad at you and Death. How is that better than this?" I asked as I wound my arms around his neck.

"You're right." He moved in close and brushed a kiss across my lips. "This is much better than you pouting and being mad all day."

*******

"Uhgn?" Not the most intelligent thing to say, but it was the best I could come up with at the time. A furry paw the size of a dinner plate had shaken me out of a very pleasant dream long before it should have. The sleep-muzzy image of Reeabok's brown and black muzzle was the first thing I saw, so I groaned loudly. Short of another Wookiee, that's really not what [i]anyone[/i] should see before their first cup of caf. Unless of course, you were into long fur, a mouth full of sharp teeth, and carnivore morning breath. I wasn't, and am still not.

Reeabok tried to pantomime her intentions, a common occurrence since only a few of us actually understand spoken Wookiee, and gave up when I blinked blurrily at her. I usually had no problem figuring out what she wanted, but I was usually fully awake when she tried. Instead of wasting time repeating her motions, she grabbed me by the arms and lifted me bodily out of my bunk and began dragging me across the floor. I managed to snag a blanket and pull it around my waist before I was hauled, stumbling and confused, around the girl's partition.

" 'Bok, slow down. The floor's freezing," I grumbled as she dragged me toward a whole pack of pajama clad Horsemen huddled around the holovid. Death, Mason and a few others were fully dressed and I frowned disapprovingly. No one should be awake and presentable before the sun came up, unless they were still awake from the night before. It's just not civilized. And from a glance at the chrono on the wall, the sun was only just then beginning to think about getting up and going to work.

Blinking grumpily, I shuffled my feet until I'd managed to get part of the blanket between them and the chilly floor. Then I raked a hand through my tangled mass of unruly hair in an attempt to get the coal black strands out of my face so I could actually see who was narrating the morning news on the holovid.

"... the company announced this morning that it will soon be marketing a cheaper equivalent of CoruCorp's 4T-71. This is the first significant challenge of CoruCorp's monopoly on the market, but they declined to comment on its possible impact on their year-end fiscal statement. Teletron's-" I was suddenly wide awake. "-spokesbeing forecasts that their TR-80 should hit the market as soon as next week." Layreen Si'chen! punched up her next data screen with a segmented chitonous digit and continued, but the important part was over and we no longer cared. Reeabok was totally forgiven for her rude wake-up call. First the successful 'shopping run', and then this. It was great news for the whole gang and if I knew Roble he'd have me hard at work in front of my computers in short order.

Everyone around me was grinning widely. Many made their way back to their bunks, hopping from foot to foot on the cold permacrete. Several headed for showers instead since they were already awake. With as many people as we had in Armageddon, you showered early, late, or did without hot water. Shael wandered over and gave me a side arm hug and a quick kiss before heading off to the showers himself.

I smiled sleepily after him and debated trying to catch a bit more sleep before Roble came looking for me. I spotted Mason picking his way through the dispersing crowd toward me and bid a fond farewell to the desire to close my eyes for just fifteen more minutes.

The Jedi's eyes flicked over me once, and though his expression didn't change in the least, I was suddenly very aware of my appearance. The collar of my over-large nightshirt hung loose off one shoulder and my blanket was slipping toward the floor. My sith-black hair probably looked like a mynock had nested in it and I'm certain my eyes were red from rubbing and the lack of a proper amount of sleep. With anybody else I wouldn't have given it a second thought.

With Mason it was different. I tugged at my shirt and pulled my blanket up around my shoulders, then tried to tell myself that it was because I didn't want to look shabby in front of a Jedi. It wasn't his wry sense of humor, or his perfect manners, or the feline grace with which he moved that had me fairly blushing in embarrassment. I told myself that very firmly. Several times. And it definitely wasn't the warmth and respect in those blue-grey eyes. It was because he was a Jedi, a hero. //And out of your reach,// a small voice whispered in the back of my mind.

I was suddenly angry, with myself for being embarrassed, or with him for making me embarrassed I couldn't tell you. It wasn't my fault my clothes were mostly hand-me-downs from other Horsemen, or that I'd been rudely pulled from my bed at a disgustingly early hour. And if he couldn't understand and accept that, then he had no business trying to pretend to be one of us in the first place! And he knew Shael and I were a couple. He couldn't have missed that kiss. [i]Everyone[/i] knew that we had made up last night. Mason really shouldn't have been looking at me like that. Or was it my imagination?

In a very short space of time, the time it takes a tall man to walk six steps, I'd gone from sleepy and grumpy to pleased, embarrassed, angry, defensive, annoyed, right on to confused and when Mason spoke to me it took a few moments for me to realize it had been a question and required an answer.

Shifting back and forth on the chilly permacrete, I shook my head to try and sort the thoughts out. "What?"

"Why is everyone so excited?" My //no!// the Jedi was looking at me strangely, not surprising considering the jumble of emotions I must have been broadcasting.

"Teletron's headquarters and main manufacturing plant are in our territory," I explained, and started shuffling toward the kitchen and a hot cup of caf. "They actually hire us as couriers and outriders and scouts. A big new product like that will mean money for us. We can really use it, too. We're short of medical supplies and many of us need new clothes." An involuntary grin tugged at my lips. "And I'd love to upgrade our computer system."

Mason picked up a mug of tea for himself and one of caf for me and carried them to the table so that I wouldn't have to unwrap from my blanket at all. "This company pays you enough for all that?"

"Oh yes. They're very nice about giving us fair wages for the work we do. No one pays attention to swoop riders, except the cops, so we make good outriders for important shipments and things." I sat, accepted the caf from Mason, cradled the warm mug in my hands and took cautious sips from it between words, trying not to look at him. I didn't want to embarrass him like I had myself. He probably had women crushing on him all the time. Adding me to the list wouldn't help us any. "It's just a little added security for their shipments and a little extra money for us. Really I think it's their idea of charity work, but they let us earn our credits, and we've never given them any reason not to trust us."

"Sounds like a good trade-off."

"Works for us." I could almost feel the caf easing through my veins and waking me up, nerve by nerve. "Roble swore we'd never have anything to do with drug running or the like. Companies like Teletron are what's made that possible. We've had some rough patches, but we've always managed to survive."

"And this other company, CoruCorp?"

I rolled my eyes. I knew he thought he needed this information for his investigation, but it really was too early in the morning for this sort of a conversation. "Puh-leeze! Everyone's heard of CoruCorp. And you can't have missed what Lyreen Si'chen! said. You were standing right there. Teletron and CoruCorp are competitors now."

"Whose territory is CoruCorp in?" he asked curiously.

"Well, it's not." I frowned, then went on when he looked blankly at me. "In anyone's territory, I mean. They don't have anything in this sector. Their main office and factory building is clear over near the Senate district."

"Nearly half the planet away," Mason murmured to himself.

"Yeah." I tipped back my mug and downed the rest of the caf in two swallows. "Forget about it. Very little outside our sector is important to us."

"Crash." Death's unhurried call cut easily through the light morning background noise and I grinned at Mason. Lifting my mug in a parting salute, I stood.

"Time for me to earn my keep."