"Okay, we're in the clear," Alder said, and Dalton released the breath he'd been holding.

"Good. Um...you good up here?" he replied.

"I'm fine. Go tend to the flock and I'll let you know if there's any trouble."

"Thank you."

Dalton turned away from her and looked over the bridge for a moment. There were a few other workstations, dark and silent for now. He wondered how long this would be their new home for. So many uncertainties in their future, near and far. With a soft sigh, he left the bridge and moved back down the central passage. He stopped at the infirmary.

"How are they?" he asked, seeing Forrester sitting down behind a desk near the back of the room, looking exhausted.

"Baker will be fine, but he's out of commission for awhile. The Confederate technician should be fine, his liver got nicked so…" She shrugged. "Probably be okay. The crew member, on the other hand, needs more serious intervention. I've got her stabilized, but I don't have enough medical supplies. Unless we get something from wherever we're going or you pull some medical supplies out of that gear we got, specifically some nano juice, it's going to be a serious gamble."

He sighed. "We're heading for a freeport to do some trading. I'll try to get my hands on some." He looked around one more time. At least all three of them were unconscious. He looked at the fourth body. "What happened to him?"

"Not sure, he's got some kind of weird wound on his neck," she replied.

Dalton frowned and began to move over to him, then sighed as he remembered he was too bulky. "I guess, do a little more checking."

"For what?" she asked.

"I don't know, just...anything. We're in uncharted waters here. Those fucking zerg things...I'm not willing to put anything past them. What if they carry sicknesses? Parasites? How do they breed? Is it gonna be like that old movie where the little alien bastard comes exploding out your chest? We have no idea what these things are capable of. And that last one we saw, that got Baker? That just makes the whole thing so much more complicated."

"Yeah…" Forrester murmured, a haunted, anxious look coming onto her face as she looked at the bodies again. She got to her feet. "Yeah, I'll look over them again."

"Thanks."

"How far 'til freeport?" she asked.

"Eighteen hours."

"Great," she muttered.

"I'll see what we can salvage."

"Thanks. Wait." He turned back. "You got a cigarette?"

"Yeah," he replied, fishing one out and tossing it to her. A happy trick in power armor, but after six years, he'd gotten pretty good at it.

"Thank you." She said, sticking it in her mouth and lighting up. "Dalton?" He turned back again. "Thank you. For saving my life. Because you did save my life."

"You're welcome, Forrester."

He left the infirmary and moved back to the cargo bay. He was starting to get tired and knew he was going to need an actual break soon. He'd been shocked out of a sound sleep three hours into it, and that was...he didn't know. Six hours ago? Sixteen? He had no real idea of how much time had passed in all this chaos, he'd completely lost track.

The others were gathered in the cargo bay. Everyone but Frost seemed to be working under Dixon, who was directing them to sort through the cargo. Frost immediately walked over to him as soon as she saw him step into the bay.

"I need to talk to you. Now," she said flatly.

"Can it wait sixty seconds?" Dalton replied. She hesitated, then nodded tightly. "Okay, lemme give the orders."

She followed silently behind him as he walked over to the others. "Okay, listen up people! We're out of system. Uh, I was going to have us hit up somewhere else, as we're a little low on power, but a huge fleet of alien ships began dropping out of FTL space and I decided it made sense to just get the fuck out of there. Now, here's the deal. The ship is basically functional and we have enough power to get to where we're going, which is a freeport station named Blizzard Station."

Roscoe made an unhappy sound. "There was nowhere else?"

"Not really," he replied.

"What's wrong with it?" Mulberry asked uncertainly.

"It used to be this fucking awesome place. Fun, friendly, actually safe for a freeport. They always had the coolest shit out there. But then some new group came in, killed the leadership, and took over, and they ran everything into the ground looking for nothing but credits and more credits. Pretty much all the cool people who operated there are either dead or gone to other stations now. These credit-grubbing fucks ruined Blizzard Station by wiping their asses with it and not giving a single fucking shit who they hurt or kill in the process," she replied.

"I can tell you feel really passionately about this," Dalton said.

She sighed. "Ignore me. I'm just...pissed. Blizzard was something special to me, and some corporate assholes killed it, and not even for a good reason, just to make a few creds, and they don't even care. They don't even realize that they should care. Like I said, ignore me. If we gotta go there, we gotta go there."

"We do, indeed, gotta go there. We don't have enough power to get to where we're going and it's basically the least dangerous place I can take us to, given we're fugitives now."

"It's not like anyone knows we're fugitives yet," Mulberry said.

"Trust me, I've been on the other end of this before, they figure it out pretty quick," Dalton replied. "So, anyway, here's my orders: tear apart, inventory, and reorganize every last thing among these crates we brought in. When you're done with that, go across the hall to the other cargo bay and do the exact same thing with the crates you find over there. You find any medical supplies, especially nano juice, get it to Forrester pronto. We picked up a few strays, two badly injured people in the infirmary, and one of them needs medical help. If you need a break, take it, but we're still in crisis mode, so not too long. But this ship is safe from what we can tell. After we get the inventory sorted, then we can see about more serious rest and recuperation. If you're falling down tired, let me or Dix know that you need to actually sleep. Dix, don't ride them too hard."

"Yeah, yeah," he said.

"Okay, get to work, I gotta go deal with some more shit," he said, fighting back a yawn as he turned away from them and gave his attention to Frost.

She said nothing, simply began walking away and motioned for him to follow. He did, following her out of the cargo bay, down the hallway, and into the engine room, where she closed the door behind them.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked.

"Is your radio off?" she replied.

He checked, made sure it was receive only. "Yeah."

"That thing we fought back on the supply station...it was psionic."

He stared at her. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. Actually, he thought she might have somehow picked up on the fact that Alder was kind of aggressively hitting on him and was annoyed about it.

"Are you sure?" he asked finally.

"Yes, I'm sure. And...so are the zerg."

"What!?" he demanded.

"I didn't realize it," she said quickly, almost apologetically, "but I was hearing some kind of...mental static? Whenever they were around. It was so faint though, I didn't even realize I was hearing it. Even during the attack. I don't think they're psionic in the way I am, in the mind-reading way or anything, but they're somehow psionic. That other thing, though? Full on psionic. More psionic than I am...what?"

"I just...I'm thinking back to the actual encounter, I had the fucking weirdest sensation just before it decided to attack, like something going through my...brain? Mind? It was vaguely similar to the sensation of something rushing right at my head and then flying right over it."

"That tracks," Frost murmured.

"I fucking knew it," he growled.

"Knew what?"

"From the moment I saw those fucking hoppers, I knew, I just knew they were made. Not born. And now these fucking incredibly high-tech mystery aliens show up all of a sudden, in the middle of an alien invasion? And they're both psionic? No, no question: they fucking made them. These new fuckers made the zerg. I bet they use them to soften us up, then move in and pack them up or wipe them out once most of the damage is done and they just take over."

Frost was silent for a long moment. "Perhaps," she said finally.

"You think I'm wrong?"

"I'm not sure, but...how does the Harbinger Installation fit in then? I mean maybe they found some awhile back, captured them, were studying them...I'm not sure. Something seems off about this. But there's a good chance you're right."

"Hope not," he growled. "This is difficult enough as it is." He sighed heavily. "Was that it? Or is there more?"

"No, that's it," she replied. "I get the impression you want to tell me something?"

"Yes. I…" He paused, staring at her as something occurred to him. He groaned.

"What?" she asked.

He chuckled a little grimly. "Just realized I'm never gonna be able to keep anything from you."

"Why would you want to?"

"I wouldn't, really, but sometimes there's times where I just don't want to talk about something or something is personal...holy fucking shit, I'm just beginning to realize that I'm going to have to explain so much to you...you said you've never been in a relationship, right?"

"Correct," she replied. "Not a romantic one. And, honestly, not really any."

"Okay. Well...don't worry, I'm not mad about it. It's fine, it's just...unlike any relationship I've ever been in."

"I thought perhaps it might be appealing."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know so much, you could...I don't know, shape me to your own desires?"

He stared at her. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

"No."

"...take off your mask."

"You make that request a lot," she murmured, but she took it off.

"I'm sorry, I just want to be able to see your face. It helps conversations so much. Thank you. And for the record, I asked if you were fucking with me because you were basically telling me 'I thought you'd be happy because you'd have an opportunity to take advantage of me'."

"Is shaping someone taking advantage of them?" she murmured.

"Yes! I mean, well...you're supposed to teach someone."

"You say teach, I say shape."

"No, those are two different things."

"How?"

He sighed. "This is-we don't exactly have a lot of time. Teaching you would be me informing you how you should do something and why you should do it, or shouldn't. Shaping someone is making them adhere to a specific doctrine of thought, Ari. I'm not going to make you do anything. It's not a relationship, then, it's a fucking dictatorship, and I'm not doing that to you."

She stared at him, looking vaguely confused. "I have a lot to learn," she muttered finally. "And that scares me."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I don't want to hurt you, Erik. Obviously I was raised and shaped in such a way as to be counterproductive to being in a relationship. I was taught to lie, cheat, and steal to get what I needed. I was taught to use people if I had to, avoid them if I didn't. They wanted a walking gun and they got it. I still feel things, Erik, and I have a basic idea of how a relationship should go, but...I obviously have a lot wrong. And I'm afraid that I'll lose you before I figure out how to do it right."

He laughed tiredly. "Well...I think you aren't as fucked as you think you are, Ari. Firstly because I have a lot of patience. Secondly because I really like you. And thirdly because...Ari, lots of people don't figure out 'how to do it right'. Because there is no one right way to do this. It's a thing we have to figure out together, and I'm willing to work with you. As long as I feel like you're still making a genuine effort, I'm totally fine with continuing. But, okay, we'll keep going later. For now, I just wanted to say that, uh, Alder seems pretty into me and I haven't had a chance to tell her we're together but I'm going to. Actually right after this conversation. But I wanted to, uh, reassure you, in case you'd picked up on any of that."

"I hadn't," she murmured. "Are you interested?"

"What? No. We're together."

"I mean, if we weren't," she replied.

Dalton almost hedged, but then he reminded himself that some instincts weren't correct. Some instincts were taught by the poorer tendencies of society, and should be resisted under ideal conditions. While, overall, these were not ideal conditions, he did want to be flatly honest with her. He'd been in relationships before where he ended up hiding things and it always turned out bad. Always. He was done with that. And, more than that, he chose to trust Ari, chose to trust that she was not playing mind games with him, asking if he thought the other girl was pretty…

He almost laughed. Mind games. Whole different meaning when you were dating a Ghost.

"Yes," he replied, "absolutely. Honestly, if we weren't together, then in about an hour or so, I'd be on the bridge, hitting her up to have sex in the pilot's seat if she was willing."

"Interesting," she murmured. He immediately began to worry that perhaps that been a little too truthful, but she didn't seem upset or even annoyed. She almost looked amused. "Well, I don't care if anyone knows that we're...involved. Romantically or sexually."

"Really? You seemed to when we first hooked up," he replied.

She sighed. "That was...different. It was different then. I was paranoid because I was running from the Confederacy but still at a Confederate military outpost. I guess I don't want you bragging about our sex life or telling anyone my favorite position."

"What is your favorite position?" he asked suddenly. "And also don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone about what we do in private. I...used to have problems with that, but I've come to realize how rude that can be."

"My favorite position...I don't know. I guess we need to try more positions. I really liked being on top last time."

"I really liked that, too," he replied.

She began to respond, then seemed to lose her train of thought. She laughed awkwardly, then cleared her throat, blushing a little. "I had that impression," she murmured finally. "Are you, um...do you prefer…"

"Whatever it is, you can just ask outright," he said.

"All right then. Do you prefer to be...in charge, um, during, or not?"

"I prefer being in charge, but I don't have to be," he replied. "I thought maybe you might like to be in charge given how...aggressive you can get."

"Is that a problem?" she asked quietly, blushing worse.

"No, not at all." He chuckled. "You're pretty cute when you're like this."

"Shut up," she replied, annoyance now battling with pleased embarrassment. "And I wouldn't say necessarily that I like to be in charge so much as I...hope that the aggression will be met with similar aggression...and overcome."

"Ahhhhhh," he said, unable to keep from grinning.

"Ah what?"

"You don't want to give it up too easily, now I get it. You want to fight and you want to be challenged, but you want to lose. You want me to roll you over and hold you down and take what I want from you."

"Erik!" she hissed, her eyes widening as she looked around.

"We're alone," he replied, "and am I wrong?"

"...no," she admitted, looking down and messing with her Canister Rifle. "You aren't. I just...find this difficult to discuss."

"You know, you were not like this when we first hooked up."

"It was different then! We weren't-it was more casual! I was behind a facade! Now I'm not! Now I'm naked before you, emotionally. I'm showing you everything, Erik, and I've never really done that before. So I'm a lot more nervous about it."

"Okay, okay," he said, relenting. "I'm sorry, I'll ease back with the teasing. And I'll never genuinely mock you for what you like in the bedroom, Ari. Don't think that what we do in bed will change how I treat you, how I see you. You are a warrior. You're more of a warrior than I am. I'm not going to lose sight of that, Ari. Okay?"

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Was there anything else?" he asked. She shook her head. "All right, we need to search this ship over, see if there's any little hidden cargo stashes. And I also need to go tell Alder to stop hitting on me."

"Wait," Ari said.

"What?"

"I don't mind."

"You don't mind...if she hits on me?"

"No. Or if you do on her."

"...are you sure?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Typically speaking, women do not like it when their significant other solicits sex from another woman," he replied.

She laughed. "I didn't say 'solicit sex', I said flirt. Flirting is fun, even if it leads nowhere. Also, for the sake of being completely truthful, I don't intend to flirt with anyone but you. I'm...not in a place where I feel comfortable with that...unless...I suppose I'm just realizing now that I didn't actually confirm whether or not you'd be comfortable with me doing it...or if you'd be comfortable doing it."

"That is what you'd do, yes." He gave her a measured looked. "...so is this a closed relationship? I'm okay with that and I'd say that's the default assumption, and also the smart thing to do in our case, but I guess we haven't talked about that very much."

"For now, yes. I want you to be the only person involved in this relationship."

"But later?"

She shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Hmm. Interesting. All right. Uh...I guess we should get to work. Will you search this place over? Look for, I dunno, hidden compartments, shit like that? Cargo haulers like these always have some sort of black market compartment where they run bootleg shit."

"Oh yes, and I'm good at finding such things," Frost replied, slipping her mask back on. "I'll get it done. I'll go over the whole ship."

"I appreciate it. Comm me if you need anything. I'm going to get out of this fucking armor," he said.