The breakroom was still, the faint hum of the Nebulaflow the only sound as Aliki stood at the counter with her coffee. The earthy aroma mingled with the lingering residue of smoke from the fire, curling around her thoughts. She stared into her cup, letting the warmth seep into her hands.
KC’s words echoed in her head. That wasn’t the first time Sufsa and I met. I worked for him. KC the smuggler. He’d said he was a ‘cargo transporter’ as if that made it all more ethical. Handsome, charming, rich—it was hard to picture him doing anything as low and illegal as smuggling, especially for an underworld cartel. But somehow, he made it sound normal. Maybe even easy.
People like KC usually have an angle. Mitch’s voice echoed in her head. Aliki frowned. They hadn’t known each other for very long and, as much as she respected him, she realized now how little he’d shared about himself. Whenever their conversations at the rehab center had drifted toward the past, it was always her life they talked about, her struggles. What did she actually know about Mitch’s?
She sipped her coffee, and the memory of their first meeting surfaced before she could push it away.
She’d been put into a room with a handful of other humans, the goal to learn conversation techniques. The HIS counselors monitored them from the edges, clipboard-toting sentinels with watchful eyes and polite smiles. While the others mingled—sitting in small clusters, their voices a tentative murmur—Aliki had stood at the side of the room, arms folded tightly across her chest. What could she possibly say?
Across the room, Mitch had leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t join the others either, at least not at first. He’d simply observed, his eyes moving from group to group like he was sizing them up. Eventually, he pushed off the wall, crossed the room, and dropped into a chair at one of the small conversational groupings. He glanced her way, motioned toward the empty chair opposite him, and waited.
Something about his quiet confidence made her legs move before she could think better of it. She sat, stiff and wary, her fingers curling into the fabric of her pants.
That’s when he pulled out the cards.
“Do you know how to play?” he asked, shuffling with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times.
Aliki shook her head. “I don’t think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”
“Why not?” He tilted his head, his grin a touch conspiratorial. “It’s easier to have a conversation when your hands are busy doing something. Trust me, I know all about how that game is played.”
At the time, she’d thought he was talking about the cards. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
She smiled as she remembered the game. His tone had been teasing, but his grin softened the words. “All right, we’ll start simple. Five-card poker. Stick with me, and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
She’d watched, intrigued, as he dealt the cards. He explained the rules like a storyteller weaving a tale, and it wasn’t long before she realized this wasn’t just something he did for fun. It was part of who he was.
“I spent some time around people who…let’s just say, weren’t exactly model citizens,” he’d said offhandedly, his voice steady. “You learn when to read people and when to let them read you.”
She’d nodded, trying to focus on her cards, but then his hand brushed hers as he reached to adjust the way she held them. The touch was brief, barely more than a graze, but her cheeks had grown warm, and her breath caught for just a second.
Mitch had leaned back in his chair, watching her with an expression that wasn’t quite a smile but carried something close to amusement. His eyes held hers for a moment longer than she expected, and she’d felt the butterflies take flight in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what unsettled her more—his gaze or the fact that he seemed to notice her reaction. So she’d tried to push her bluff a little too hard, her confidence faltering.
He’d called her out on it, of course. “Not bad,” he’d said, that same grin tugging at his mouth. “But you’ve got tells. You should work on that.”
She felt her face flush with the memory and shifted her weight against the counter, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup as her focus returned to the present.
Emmett appeared in the open entrance of the break room, a tray of used coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. “I see you’re addin’ to my collection,” he said as he eyed her nearly empty cup.
Aliki felt a pang of guilt. “Sorry, Emmett. I meant to clean up after myself. It’s just been… a lot, lately.”
Emmett made his way to the dishwasher. “Oh, I’m sure it has. And now, to top it all off, you’ve got bridezilla waiting for you in the office.”
Aliki’s eyes grew wide as she understood his implication.. “Tira? In the office? What does she want?”
The android tilted his head, his optical sensors glinting. “Well, I didn’t exactly stop to ask, did I? But she seemed awfully interested in your tablet while she waited.”
Aliki’s stomach clenched. Her tablet? Had she left it open showing the hidden logs and power system specs? She shoved her chair back, thrust her half-empty cup at Emmett, and headed towards the office.
Tira stood at Aliki’s clean, organized desk, the small datapad in her hands. “There you are!” she exclaimed as Aliki stepped into the room. Her voice was bright, with an edge that felt slightly out of sync. “We must finalize the seating arrangements and food for the wedding. The invitations need to go out immediately!” She let out a giggle that trailed off awkwardly.
Aliki forced a calm expression as she approached, holding out her hand. “I’ve been working on some options,” she said evenly. “If you’re okay with Earth food, I found a local caterer we could use. Or we could try the chef at the Hotel Slumberstar—they cater events, and the spaceport has banquet facilities.”
Tira shook her head, her movements exaggerated. “No, no, no. I want an outdoor wedding. The weather here is just… wonderful!” She swayed slightly, staring dreamily past Aliki.
Aliki reached out, taking the datapad from Tira with gentle but deliberate hands. “An outdoor wedding could work,” she said, glancing at the files Tira had been scrolling through. Thankfully, they were all related to her wedding searches. She tapped the larger, desk-mounted datapad to life and began transferring information onto its screen. “The chef can still send over some sample dishes if we decide to go that route. What do you think?”
Tira leaned closer, peering at the menu but barely focusing. “Dessert,” she blurted suddenly, her claws clicking against the edge of the desk. “It needs to be… spectacular. Something unforgettable.”
Aliki hesitated, her mind turning. “We have damaged chocolate in storage,” she said cautiously. “What about a fondue? It’s a popular Earth custom—melted chocolate with things to dip in it.”
Tira’s eyes lit up, and she gasped. “Fondue! Oh, that’s perfect! What do you dip in it? Tell me everything.”
“Fruit, crackers, bread—anything, really,” Aliki replied, relieved at Tira’s sudden enthusiasm. “It’s fun and easy to set up.”
“It’s genius!” Tira clasped her hands, her excitement bubbling over. “Zoron will love it!”
“What, exactly, will I love?” Zoron’s voice came from the doorway, calm and steady. His expression betrayed no emotion as he stepped into the room.
Tira spun toward him, her grin widening. “Fondue!” she exclaimed, rushing to his side. “Aliki suggested it—melted chocolate for dipping things! It’s so fashionable and perfect for the wedding.”
Zoron glanced at Aliki, then back to Tira. “It’s an interesting idea,” he said slowly. “But we agreed to keep this ceremony small. Let’s not go overboard.”
Tira’s enthusiasm faltered. “But surely we can have one indulgence?” she pressed. “The dress you liked was expensive—what harm is there in making the food a little extravagant?”
“As long as it’s tasteful,” Zoron replied firmly. “I’ve invited important people—ones we need to impress. This wedding is about more than us. It’s about securing our future.”
Before Tira could respond, a knock on the doorframe broke the moment. Emmett stood there, his expression deadpan but his tone dripping with dry humor. “Hate to interrupt this grand event planning, but I’ve just had word from the spaceport. The traffic controllers have shuffled our courier and repair tech to one of their landing pads. Nice of them, eh?”
Without waiting for a response, he waved dismissively and walked off down the hall. “I’ll be in the control room, far away from all this noise.”
Zoron ignored him, his OmniComm buzzing in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he muttered, stepping into the hall to take the call.
Tira slumped into a chair, her claws tapping against the edge of the desk. “He’s always like this,” she muttered. “Everything has to be about appearances. Sometimes I think our relationship is more about business than love.”
Aliki swiped the menu back onto the desk screen. “We can ask the chef to prepare something bold for the main course,” she said, trying to redirect Tira’s focus. “Something to balance the fondue.”
Moments later, Zoron returned, his face calm but resolute. “The courier and repair tech are on their way,” he announced. “I’ve told them to use the loading door. I’ll meet them there.”
Tira wrinkled her nose. “It’s not that Orsian again, is it? The one that smells like—”
“I’ve got this handled,” Zoron cut her off, his tone clipped. “I’ll set aside some chocolate for the fondue, but no more sampling, Tira. We need to stay sharp. People will expect results.”
He turned, pausing briefly to glance at Aliki before leaving the room. Tira huffed, her claws clicking against the desk in frustration. “Stingy!” she grumbled. “What kind of bride doesn’t get to enjoy her own wedding?”
Emmett popped his head back into the room. “They’re here,” he said, emphasizing here with dripping disapproval.
Aliki stopped. “Here?”
“Aye.” His brows dipped. “The van’s parked by the entrance. Not where it should be, mind you.”
She sighed. “I thought Zoron told them to park at the loading door?”
“That’s ’cause we always use the loading door,” Emmett drawled with exaggerated patience, like he was explaining gravity to a child. “Why they parked out front? Couldn’t tell ya. But there they are, go see for yourself.”
Aliki exhaled softly. “I need to help move the chocolate.” Without waiting for Tira’s response, she turned and headed toward the showroom.
When she reached the showroom, the van was parked outside the front entrance. Its plain, utilitarian design contrasted with the bright Jackrabbit Jump Spaceport logo emblazoned on the side—a cartoon jackrabbit grinning as it piloted a spaceship, its long ears streaming like contrails.
The van’s driver-side door swung open and an android stepped out, his movements precise and fluid, as though every gesture was calculated for maximum efficiency and grace. His polished, humanoid frame bore subtle detailing that suggested he was more than just functional—he was designed to blend seamlessly into human and alien company alike. Dressed sharply in a fitted jacket, he adjusted his cuffs with an effortless air of refinement.
A moment later, the passenger door swung open, and a Tyrok woman emerged. If the android’s elegance was subtle, hers was anything but. She was stunning, her skin gleaming. Her tailored jumpsuit flattered her frame while downplaying her presence, but her sharp gaze hinting at authority far beyond her attire. She strode through the glass doors with deliberate poise, confidence radiating like a force field, the android following closely behind.
Aliki stepped forward. “Welcome to Goose Cruisers,” she said. “I’m Aliki, the manager here.”
The android’s sharp eyes flicked to her, his expression unchanging but his tone smooth as silk. “Xyper,” he said simply.
Emmett stepped up next to Aliki. “Nice to see ya again, Xyper,” he said, his tone a touch too formal. “Hope the drive from the ‘port wasn’t too rough. The van needs to be at the loadin’ door. You know the routine.”
Xyper tilted his head slightly, his expression calm but pointed. “I was told to park at the front of the building.”
“No, ya weren’t,” Emmett said firmly, his voice clipped. “Storeroom’s through the back. Always has been.”
A voice cut through the exchange. “What is she doing here?”
Aliki turned to see Tira storming toward them, her expression dark. She stopped a few feet from Salyne, her posture tense.
Salyne didn’t flinch. “Zoron sent for me,” she said, her tone cool but with a hint of amusement. “He said he needs me to fix a cooling system issue.”
Tira’s arms crossed tightly. “We don’t need you for this. We have other techs who can do the job.”
Salyne tilted her head slightly, her smile cool and composed. “Really? Because it sounded to me like Zoron thought I was the only one who could handle it.”
Aliki watched Tira flex her claws and instinctively stepped back, bumping into Emmett. “Those two better not leave a mess on my floor,” he muttered, smoothly stepping aside to give her space.
Summoning her courage, Aliki raised a hand and forced a diplomatic tone. “Let’s focus on what needs to be done,” she said.
The striking newcomer turned her gaze to Aliki. “Yes, let’s.” She smiled, her tone light but deliberate. “I’m Salyne. Zoron told me about you.”
Aliki couldn’t help but wonder what Zoron might have said about her to a repair tech. Pushing the thought aside, she replied, “Salyne, I appreciate you coming to help, but next time, please make sure the van is parked at the loading door. Uh…” She looked at Emmett. “Xyper knows the way.”
Emmett nodded. Salyne arched an eyebrow but said nothing, while Xyper grumbled, “I would’ve parked there if someone hadn’t insisted otherwise.” He looked at Salyne.
“I’ll move it,” Salyne said casually, turning her gaze back to Tira. “Once we’re done here.”
Tira glared but stayed silent, her jaw tight.
As the standoff seemed to settle, Aliki caught movement through the glass doors. Mitch was approaching, his stride purposeful, his expression sharp.
“Fantastic,” Emmett muttered.
The glass doors slid open with a serene whisper, a deceptive prelude to Mitch’s sharp voice cutting through the air like a blade: “Can someone explain why a ship landed, took a van from my maintenance shop, and drove straight here—an active crime scene—without so much as a word to me?”
Aliki’s mind scrambled for an explanation. Before she could speak, Emmett stepped forward, his tone smooth and casual. “Xyper here’s just deliverin’ some help for us. Salyne’s fixin’ the power system—Zoron’s orders. Everything’s above board, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
Mitch glared at Emmett before flicking his eyes to Xyper and then to Salyne, his scrutiny lingering as if he were filing every detail away. “Above board,” he echoed, his tone skeptical.
Aliki forced herself to meet Mitch’s gaze, hoping he wouldn’t press further. For now, he didn’t. But the tension in the room didn’t ease as Mitch crossed his arms and waited, his sharp eyes sweeping over the group, silently demanding someone explain what was going on.
The dull thud of boots on tile broke the silence as Zoron appeared from the hallway. His towering frame moved with an air of unflinching authority, and his piercing gaze swept across the room, quickly taking in the chaotic tableau. “What’s the hold-up?”
Tira spun to face him, her frustration now fully redirected. “What’s the hold-up? She’s the hold-up!” She pointed an accusatory claw at Salyne. “Zoron, why is she even here? Fixing things for you? We have dozens of better repair techs who could handle this. There was no need to bring in an outsider—and you didn’t even consult me about it!”
Salyne didn’t flinch. Instead, she let a sly smile creep across her lips. “Zoron needs someone who knows what they’re doing, Tira.”
“I don’t care what you think you’re doing; you’re not needed here!” Tira snapped, her voice rising. “The cooling system needs a real repair tech, not some over-polished prima donna playing engineer,” Tira snapped.
Aliki’s heart skipped a beat. She saw Emmett’s head tilt slightly at the mention of the cooling system, though he said nothing.
Salyne’s smile sharpened as her gaze shifted deliberately to Zoron.
“Enough,” Zoron said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He stepped between them, immediately silencing Tira.
Mitch took the pause as his opportunity. “A repair tech?” he asked, his voice low and clipped. “I don’t remember anyone asking me if they could call in a repair tech.”
Zoron turned to Mitch, his expression impassive. “It was necessary. The power system needs work, and Salyne’s qualified to handle it.”
Mitch’s expression darkened. “The power system” he repeated, his tone laced with suspicion. “That’s interesting, because I could’ve sworn Tira just said it was the cooling system.”
The room seemed to freeze for a moment, tension crackling in the silence.
Zoron’s jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained even. “Both systems have issues. The power system failure caused something to go wrong with the cooling system. Salyne’s handling both.”
Mitch stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “And you didn’t think it was important to tell me? I’m the one investigating the crash. If the power system failed, that’s evidence I should’ve been informed about—not something you fix behind closed doors. I need to get my people in here to check it out.”
Zoron’s tone hardened, his authority sharpening. “The failure’s been documented. Salyne’s here to make sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s all.”
Mitch’s eyes stayed locked on Zoron. “Convenient timing,” he said dryly.
Before the situation could escalate further, Tira cut in again, her frustration still simmering. “This is exactly what I mean! You make these decisions without involving me, and now this—”
Aliki stepped forward, recognizing that the argument was spiraling toward disaster. “Tira,” she said quickly, pitching her tone low and steady, “don’t we need to finalize the seating arrangements? You mentioned earlier that the invitations had to go out tonight to make sure everyone has enough time.”
Tira hesitated, her attention shifting reluctantly to Aliki. “The seating…”
“Yes,” Aliki said, seizing the opportunity. “And I think the caterer’s deadline is tonight, too. You’ve already put so much effort into the details—it’d be a shame to rush it now.”
Tira frowned but slowly relaxed. “Fine. But this isn’t over,” she muttered. “I’ll be in the apartment…finalizing things…when you get done here. I expect you to hurry,” she added, turning away abruptly.
As Tira disappeared down the hall, Zoron stepped forward again, his tone firm. “Salyne, Xyper,” he said, addressing them both, “get to work in the back and handle the issue I called you for.”
Salyne nodded smoothly, her expression neutral. “Of course,” she said simply, gesturing for Xyper to follow as she turned toward the hallway.
Emmett lingered for a moment, looking at Zoron for confirmation. “Right, I’ll move the van. Then I’ll make sure they don’t reprogram the whole system while they’re at it,” he muttered, his brogue laced with sarcasm.
Only Aliki and Mitch remained with Zoron. Mitch crossed his arms and said, “I expect a full report on the failure and exactly what your repair tech did to fix it on my desk by morning.” His tone carried the weight of suspicion, making it clear he thought they were hiding something.
Zoron ignored him, turning back toward the hallway without a word.
Aliki took a steadying breath and stepped toward Mitch. “I need to go help Tira with her wedding plans,” she said, keeping her tone measured. “But I have a couple of minutes available—if you’d like to tell me why you’re really here.”
Mitch’s gaze flicked to her, narrowing slightly as he weighed her words. After a pause, he nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s talk.”
Aliki began walking toward the office, her mind already working through how to navigate Mitch’s inevitable questions. He followed closely and the tension from their confrontation in the showroom lingered between them, heavy and unspoken. When she reached the office, she took the seat behind her desk and gestured for him to enter.
Mitch remained by the door, arms crossed. His gaze bore into her with unwavering intensity. “You’re not curious why a ship landed at the spaceport carrying two off-worlders whom I’m pretty sure are connected to syndicates?”
Aliki picked up her datapad and pretended interest in it’s screen. “They’re here to help with the repairs,” she replied evenly. Her fingers scrolled aimlessly across the device’s surface.
Mitch straightened, stepping closer. “Repairs? You expect me to believe that the work is so complicated it needs specialists called in? No local talent would do?”
“You’d have to ask Zoron about that. He’s the one who made the arrangements.”
Mitch perched on the corner of her desk, leaving her no choice but to shift aside and meet his gaze. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter and graver. “Let me tell you something, Aliki. I just got a death threat while questioning KC at the spaceport.”
A sudden chill settled in her chest. “A death threat?” she managed, her voice taut. “What did they say?”
Mitch leaned in slightly. “‘Keep your nose out of it, or we’ll shut you up for good.’”
Aliki’s stomach twisted. “Has there been… any news about my situation? Am I still being considered a suspect?”
Mitch sighed, his expression softening slightly. His gaze met hers. “You’re still a suspect. The truth is, if the syndicate had their way, you’d be the scapegoat for certain.” He hesitated. “But I don’t think you’re guilty. That said, it’s not my call. There are higher-ups in the Criminal Extradition bureau, people examining this from every angle, and they haven’t ruled you out yet.”
“ICE is actually involved?”
He nodded.
She swallowed and managed a quiet, “That’s… good to know.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “What’s your part now?”
Mitch straightened, frustration flickering across his features. “I’ve questioned KC, but when I sent over my report, I got back something I wasn’t expecting. A direct response: ‘Leave Keefe Casey alone. We already know he’s not involved in this.’”
“They know he’s not involved?”
“That’s what they said.” Mitch shrugged, his tone resigned. “So, I’m stepping back. I’ll wait on the power system report and let the higher-ups figure it out.” He scratched his temple, as if trying to piece something together. “What I don’t get is why they’re so worked up over one mob boss’s death. Syndicates take each other out all the time—when it fails, you’ve got a mess; when it succeeds, there’s blood until things settle. Normally, ICE doesn’t bat an eye at them thinning their own ranks—it saves the bureau the trouble.”
A sudden buzzing from his OmniComm drew his attention. He glanced at it and sighed. “Spaceport’s calling,” he muttered, his voice weary. He looked at Aliki again, his eyes scanning her face as if searching for something he couldn’t quite name. “This isn’t over. Watch your back.”
He turned and left without another word, leaving her alone, her questions echoing in the silence. She set down the datapad, her mind churning with the implications of Mitch’s words. A suspect. A scapegoat. The dealership suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in around her. And ICE was involved. It had to be because of the chocolate smuggling. Would they implicate her in that, as well?
Shaking her head, she forced herself to refocus. The wedding plans were a convenient cover, and she needed them now more than ever. Staying out of Mitch’s crosshairs—and the syndicate’s—would demand every ounce of calm she could summon. At least the chocolate wasn’t her responsibility anymore.
The chocolate! The thought struck her like a bolt—she hadn’t told Zoron she’d moved some of it to other coolers to save it from further damage. With a muttered curse, she jumped up, leaving the datapad abandoned on the desk, and hurried toward the storage room.
The mingling aroma of chocolate and dusty cardboard greeted her as she stepped inside. Zoron and Xyper were already hard at work near the loading door, stacking boxes onto a motorized hand truck. Xyper looked up as she approached.
“I put some of the chocolate that was beginning to melt into coolers inside. Should I start bringing it out here?” she asked.
“Please do,” he said curtly, nodding toward van as he lifted a large box with smooth precision.
Aliki began looking for another cart. Before she took two steps, Tira burst into the storage room. “Aliki!” she snapped. “Why didn’t you come to the apartment like I told you?”
Startled, Aliki stopped. “I’m sorry,” she said automatically, her eyes scanning the room. “I got held up.”
Tira wasn’t mollified. She marched closer, her frustration bubbling over. “You got held up?” she repeated. “We need to get the catering order finished. I invited a hundred guests! A hundred, Aliki! Do you know how much food we’ll need? And we haven’t even confirmed their availability!”
Aliki tried to listen, tried to apologize to Tira again, but her eyes shifted to Zoron and Xyper, who continued working methodically, maneuvering around them as they steadily emptied the storage room.
Tira pointed towards the door. “And Salyne,” she hissed, her voice dropping but no less venomous. “She is absolutely not invited. Do you hear me? Not invited.”
Before Aliki could reply, Xyper’s voice broke through, smooth and casual. “Am I invited?” he asked, glancing at Tira with faint amusement.
Tira waved a dismissive hand. “Only if you’ve got nothing better to do,” she said. “But Salyne? No.”
And just like that, she pivoted again, launching into a tirade about Salyne’s meddling. “She doesn’t belong here,” she continued. “One of the technicians from the spaceport would’ve been perfectly capable of fixing the equipment–don’t you agree?”
Aliki raised a hand, trying to deflect the intensity of Tira’s ire. “This isn’t my call.”
“Enough!” Zoron’s voice cut through the room like a whip. He turned toward them, his gaze hard and sharp. “Both of you—get out. Now.”
The room fell silent. Tira stared at Zoron, her lips pressed into a thin line. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed out, her anger trailing behind her like a storm cloud.
Aliki bit her lower lip and followed. She’d only been trying to help. Now Tira and Zoron were furious with her.
She paused at the open doorway leading into the utility room, remembering she needed a cart. Movement caught her eye. Salyne was crouched near a set of open panels, her toolkit neatly arranged beside her. She was studying the power system equipment, her expression focused. Aliki frowned. Salyne should be fixing the cooling system first. It suddenly annoyed her that the Tyrok female was messing around with equipment that Emmett thought he’d repaired.
Aliki decided to ask the android later. If anyone knew the building’s systems—and whether Salyne was capable of fixing them—it was Emmett.
Taking a steadying breath, Aliki straightened and refocused. She still had work to do. If nothing else, she’d find a cart and do her part to move the chocolate, keeping her head down and out of Zoron’s way for now.
