Aliki shifted on the sofa, the familiar creak of the old springs breaking the morning silence. The thermal throw she’d pulled from the closet last night had done little to soften the discomfort of the couch, but it had been better than nothing. Her stomach wasn’t complaining this morning, though her head certainly was. The dinner with Mitch at the spaceport restaurant had been good—a surprisingly hearty plate of Otharian-style chickpea patties and spiced greens. And the movie with Emmett had been a welcome respite that helped keep her worries at bay. Until it was time to go to sleep, when the weight of her current predicament crashed down like, well, like the Metsu.
She shuddered. Coffee, she thought. Coffee and silence—a fleeting luxury before the storm of whatever ICE and Mitch had planned for her. A few minutes to think about what might happen. Not the bad thoughts—she’d lain awake all night thinking of gazillions of things that would go wrong during the wedding. But after. If—when—it was all over and her contract was signed off.
She sat up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. No, thinking about what she might do and where she might go seemed as scary as getting caught by Zoron. She wasn’t ready to think about independence. That word felt too large, too final, as though it might unravel her completely if she let herself believe she could handle it. No, better to focus on the present. One task at a time. First, coffee. Then… whatever came next.
An hour later, after a shower and her first cup of coffee, she’d returned to the apartment kitchen. She had no pressing duties from Zoron or Tira, whose voices could now be heard within the suite, and Salyne was no where to be found, so she thought she’d use the quiet time to do some cleaning before the groceries arrived.
It was obvious that no one had used the kitchen or dining area in a long time since everything was covered in dust. Apparently Emmett’s cleaning routine didn’t extend to the private quarters. She’d just discovered a cache of half-used cleaning supplies in the back of a cabinet when the buzz of her OmniComm shattered her momentary stillness. “Delivery’s here.” Emmett announced cheerily. “Meet me in the garage.”
Aliki closed the cabinet. “On my way.”
A door adjoining the kitchen area led straight out into the garage. She stepped through and found a neat stack of corrugated boxes, each emblazoned with the logo of Rivers’ Market, the local grocery chain serving Jackrabbit Jump. Emmett stood by the stack, his mechanical fingers tapping idly against his metal thigh as he scanned the delivery manifest on a datapad.
“Looks like everything’s here,” he said. “Including that.” He gestured toward a single white box sitting near the garage door. Its label bore a shiny photo of chocolate bars alongside a large red sticker reading: “Rush: Handle With Care”.
Aliki frowned. “Was that part of your order?”
“Nope,” Emmett said. “Probably a weddin’ thing.”
She picked up the white box, balancing it against her hip. “I’ll put it in storage. Looks like Zoron’s damaged stash will have some company.”
The chocolate storage room felt like a sauna the moment Aliki stepped inside. The air clung to her skin, sticky and stale, with a light dust of cocoa. She set the new box down next to the two boxes of partially melted chocolate Zoron had already written off as too ruined to resell. Frowning, she wondered if the cooling system was supposed to be shut off between chocolate shipments, and made a mental note to ask Emmett about it later.
Returning to the garage, she helped Emmett open boxes and sort the contents. Happily, he’d thought of just about everything, from basic cooking supplies to ready-made meals, as well as snack bars and fruit for the dealership’s break room.
Picking up a box of snacks and pre-made sandwiches, she told Emmett she’d take it inside. She’d just stepped into the utility room when she spotted Salyne crouched by an open maintenance panel, tools scattered around her like a chaotic halo. A faint hum of energy pulsed from the exposed wiring.
“What’re you doing?” Aliki asked, shifting the boxes in her arms to get a better look.
Salyne glanced up, her expression unreadable. “Just fixing a minor issue in the power system. Nothing to worry about.”
Aliki hesitated. A waft of warm air from the storage room triggered a thought, but she shook it off. “Right. Let me know if you need anything.”
Salyne nodded, already turning back to her work. Aliki moved on, an uneasy feeling simmering.
The breakroom smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, its industrial surfaces gleaming under the harsh lighting. Aliki set her boxes on the counter, her gaze skimming the room. “Looks like Emmett’s been busy this morning,” she noted approvingly.
A quiet chuckle drew her attention. KC leaned casually against the wall, his posture loose but his eyes cutting sharp as a scalpel. His grin was easy, almost lazy.
Ignoring him, she opened the top box and pulled out packages of spiced flatbread.
“Starting a catering business, are we?” he quipped. “What’s next? Spaceport hors d’oeuvres?”
Aliki placed the food in the cooler and reached for a bag of apples. “If you’re not here to help, feel free to leave.”
“Oh, I’ll help.” He stepped closer, his tone shifting to something more measured. “Saw Salyne working hard earlier. Seemed pretty focused. Any idea what she’s up to?”
Aliki removed some snack bars from the bottom of her first box and stowed them into a cabinet. “Just maintenance stuff. Why?
KC shrugged. “No reason.” Stepping in front of her, he opened the second box and handed her a pile of drink pouches. His grin returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Aliki bit her lip, then took the drinks. “If you’re so eager to help, why don’t you break down these boxes and toss them in the reprocessing bin outside.”
“Anything for you,” KC said with a mock bow, grabbing an empty box in each hand and heading towards the back door.
Aliki watched him go, then returned to the garage for another load. This time, Salyne was gone from the utility room. The maintenance panel remained open, a few loose wires snaking out like tiny, metallic fingers reaching for attention. She walked up to inspect it. Something felt off, but she wasn’t sure what.
“Emmett!”
A moment later, the android appeared in the doorway, holding a box of instant soup like a trophy. “What’s ailin’ ya now?”
Aliki gestured at the open cabinet with a sharp flick of her hand. “Is the cooling system supposed to be working? And is this,” she jabbed a finger at the mess of exposed wires, “part of the repair job?”
Emmett tilted his head, his servos giving a faint whir. “That’s a circuit box. Looks like Salyne’s fiddlin’ with the breaker for the storage room. Dunno why. I checked the breakers first thing after the outages. Not a thing wrong with ’em. I’ll sort it out when I’m done with the groceries.”
“Don’t you normally turn the cooling system off when there’s nothing being stored in there?” Aliki pressed.
“It doesn’t work like that,” he replied, waving a hand at the cooling system equipment. “Once it warms up, it takes days to chill back down. Stressin’ the system like that’s just askin’ for a breakdown. We’ve got four deliveries a month, so there’s no point switchin’ it off just to fight it later.”
She gestured towards the storage room. “It’s awfully warm in there.”
He handed her the box of soup. “Here, it goes in the break room. I’ll check on this now. Got another chocolate shipment due tomorrow, so better safe than sorry. Would ya be wantin’ to finish up with the supplies?”
An hour later, Aliki had just put away the last of the groceries in the apartment kitchen when her communicator buzzed sharply. She pulled it from her pocket and answered.
“It’s Mitch,” came the familiar voice, calm but with an edge of urgency. “The ICE agent is here and wants to speak with you. Can you come to my office?”
“On my way,” Aliki replied, already mentally adjusting her plans for cooking a meal. She disconnected their conversation and called Emmett.
“Emmett, I’ve got to head to the spaceport security office. Were you able to find out what’s wrong with the cooling system?”
Emmett’s reply came almost immediately. “Nothin’s wrong, far as I can figure it. Only the breaker being off. I’ve got the panel back together again and the cooling system’s runnin’ fine now. Didn’t take much once I got it sorted.”
“And Salyne?” Aliki asked. “Did you ask her why she’d torn apart the circuit breakers?”
“She’s not here,” Emmett said. “Far as I know, she’s holed up in the office.”
Aliki frowned but didn’t have time to linger on it. She tucked the OmniComm back into her pocket and looked up just as Zoron exited his suite and slipped through the door leading into the dealership. She watched him for a second, debating whether to follow, but the urgency of Mitch’s call pushed her forward.
She grabbed a protein bar from the cabinet she’d just stocked and tore it open as she walked out of the apartment. The meal she’d thought about fixing would have to wait.
The front door of the apartment was rarely used, more of a decorative feature than anything practical, but it provided a shorter route to the parking lot than walking through the dealership to the showroom doors. Aliki stepped outside, squinting against the bright May sunlight. The air was warm, with a hint of the heat that would dominate the afternoon, something she’d heard was typical of southwest Texas this time of year.
She took a bite of the protein bar and stepped onto the flagstone path that zigzagged through a small gravel lawn. Large boulders clustered in the corners in artful gatherings, as if attending a stony social event, surrounded by stoic cacti that clearly disapproved of unnecessary small talk. The landscaping whispered a grudging nod to nature, perhaps an homage to what the spaceport had paved over, while requiring absolutely no effort to maintain—a perfect balance for a dealership that specialized in functional neglect.
The electric cart was parked outside the showroom’s main entrance on its charging pad. She’d never driven one before, but she’d ridden in it when Emmett drove her over from the spaceport. How complicated could it be? With any luck, it might actually turn out to be fun.
Fumbling with the controls, she pressed what she assumed was the start button. The cart jolted forward with a loud scrape against the parking stop, causing Aliki to lurch back in her seat.
“Sorry!” she called out, as if the cart itself had been insulted by her clumsy handling.
Trying to recover, she reversed too hard, sending the cart into a sharp spin that skidded the back wheels against the gravel. Aliki muttered a string of expletives under her breath, gripping the controls tightly as she finally managed to straighten the cart out.
The short drive to the spaceport wasn’t far, but by the time she parked, her knuckles were pale from clutching the wheel like it was the only thing keeping her from disaster. She exhaled slowly, muttering to herself, “Well, that could’ve been worse.”
The side entrance of the spaceport, an unremarkable slab of reinforced glass, slid open with a faint hiss, revealing a corridor that tried desperately to look important. One wall showcased an uninspiring view of the nearly empty tarmac with an occasional maintenance vehicle trundling by like a beetle with self-esteem issues. The other wall was lined with what could generously be called “modern artwork,” a series of abstract canvases splashed with shades of red and green—obviously not for any artistic merit and more probably because it conveniently aligned with the themes of most human holidays. It gave the hallway a vaguely celebratory look, albeit in a corporate-mandated way.
The floor was polished to a mirror shine, so dark and reflective that anyone walking along it could see a ghostly image of themselves staring back, questioning their life choices. Aliki ignored it, glancing instead at the map on her datapad, orienting herself as the administrative wing’s entrance came into view.
She found the right door between two particularly oversized paintings—one an ambiguous swirl of greens that vaguely suggested a tropical forest, the other a violent splash of reds that brought to mind a particularly hostile family reunion. The door slid open to reveal another corridor, narrower, plainer, and distinctly less enthusiastic about its own existence. The walls here were a dull, industrial gray, made from the same plastisteel used in spaceports across the galaxy. As she walked deeper into the spaceport, she noted the absence of artwork, replaced only by the occasional scuff mark—a half-hearted attempt at character. The floor, though clean, lacked the reflective pretension of its grander sibling outside.
This corridor branched into a T-junction marked by a modest sign. To the right lay the “really important stuff,” like spaceport traffic control and facility operations—areas where people presumably made decisions about things like docking fees and whose ship got priority during a meteor storm. To the left stretched the path to the mundane: customs offices, baggage holds, and security, the less glamorous side of spaceport life where people with weary expressions assisted weary travelers. It’s end opened into the public terminal.
She turned that way and followed the corridor until she came upon an office with a door labeled SECURITY in plain, practical font. Stepping inside, her eyes were drawn to a sleek steel desk. Empty except for a single datapad and a slim keyboard, it also held a coffee mug emblazoned with the words, “Galactic Security: Unyielding Vigilance.” A compact NebulaFlow dispenser occupied a corner shelf in the nook behind it, its chrome finish catching the light from a narrow window that overlooked the spaceport’s empty terminal. The window’s opacity shifted to a faint haze as she entered.
Mitch sat upright behind the desk but quickly stood when Aliki walked in. Across from him, a Lynnex occupied one of the two visitor chairs, his composed demeanor suggesting he was more at home in the space than Mitch himself. Aliki immediately noticed his bright green eyes as they sharply assessed every detail about her, including her shoe size. His tufted ears twitched slightly, but his posture remained perfectly still, his tailored uniform pristine.
Mitch nodded toward her. “Aliki, meet Grennir Raush, ICE’s lead investigator on this case.”
Raush’s voice was calm and clipped. “Aliki, a pleasure. Let’s begin.” He waited as Aliki settled into the other chair, then picked up the datapad and tapped a few keys with deliberate precision. A holographic display flickered to life above Mitch’s desk, illuminating shipment logs and timelines in sharp, glowing detail.
“We’ve reviewed the decrypted logs from the dealership’s database. It’s clear the chocolate shipments are part of the Black Claw smuggling operations. The next pickup, scheduled for the wedding day, is the linchpin of the operation.” He gestured to a highlighted line on the display. “This courier’s ship is scheduled to pick up a weapons shipment from a Silver Fangs supplier before arriving on Earth. Once the chocolate is loaded onto the same ship, we’ll have all the evidence we need to move in on both cartels.”
Raush’s gaze fixed on Aliki. “This is where you and Whitman come in. ICE will infiltrate the wedding using agents disguised as catering staff and spaceport personnel assigned to transport guests. Your job is to keep Zoron and Tira focused on the wedding, unaware of our presence. The story we’ll circulate is that I’m here to arrest you but have agreed to wait until the wedding is over. This should excuse any lapses you may have due to your unfamiliarity with our security protocols.”
Aliki folded her arms, her unease growing. “And the courier? How do you plan to handle them?”
“Simple,” Raush replied. “We’ll apprehend them as they’re loading the chocolate onto the weapons-laden ship. Simultaneously, we’ll arrest as many cartel leaders as possible during the wedding, including Zoron and Tira.”
She hesitated. “Emmett mentioned allowing ships to land at the dealership instead of the spaceport. It’d make things easier for guests.”
Raush shook his head. “Absolutely not. Restricting guest access off-planet works to our advantage. ICE agents will infiltrate as transport personnel. The lockdown policy strengthens our position.”
Mitch perched on the edge of the desk, his expression grim. “We’ll coordinate as needed, but it’s risky. One slip, and we’ll have a cartel war on our hands. We’ll need to act without further direction from ICE.”
Raush’s tufted ears flicked, his tone unyielding. “The data is clear: Zoron intends to consolidate the Black Claws and Silver Fangs under his control, positioning himself at the head of a massive syndicate. We cannot allow that. Risk is inherent, but precision mitigates it. Keep Zoron and Tira preoccupied—that’s your focus.”
A firm knock on the window cut through the room’s charged atmosphere. Aliki turned to see Tira’s face peering through the glass, her expression a blend of impatience and irritation. Mitch sighed, gesturing for Aliki to deal with it.
Stepping into the public area, Aliki barely had time to brace herself before Tira launched into a tirade. “There you are!” Her voice climbed with each word. “Emmett told me you’d be here. I’ve been stuck dealing with the caterer while you’ve been…what? Hiding with your boyfriend? We have party preparations to start, and you’re needed back at the dealership right now!”
Aliki’s heart raced. She tried to adopt the frame of mind of someone on the verge of being arrested. “Tira, I’m here because Mitch wants to arrest me for your father’s murder. But I insisted they couldn’t do anything until your wedding is over.”
Tira froze, her tirade halting mid-breath. “Arrest?” Her voice pitched high before settling into a cooler, more measured tone. “You? For murder?” She huffed. “Why didn’t anyone call me? I should have been notified immediately. But…”
Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing with a gleam of sudden realization. A slow smile crept onto her face, laced with barely concealed glee. “Well, I suppose that does make things simpler.”
Aliki blinked. “Simpler?”
Tira ignored her, cocking her head to one side like a bird spotting a particularly shiny object. “If you’re going to be arrested, then there’s no need for us to stay Earthside any longer, is there?” Her head spun back to face Aliki, her tone almost triumphant. “Zoron and I can host the wedding wherever we please! There’s nothing keeping us tethered here anymore.”
