Chapter 5

"Will you get out of my way, John! The ship's perfectly fine. Go piss on a live wire!" Carolina pushed him away, and her arms were strong enough from years of piloting to put him off-balance briefly. John Bren took only a half-step back in the small cabin before he was steady again.

"I haven't finished my pre-flight check." He said stubbornly.

"Damn your stupid pre-flight check for the hundredth time!" She whirled and swept his diagnostic tools off the pilot's console. "I don't have time to humor your pedantic need to inspect every inch of the ship. Now get out!"

John Bren retrieved his amp probe from where it had rolled under the pilot's chair. "It's not pedantic; it's common sense. We left the Warlock out here on the concrete for the night while we were in town. Anyone could have come on board. And I don't trust that kid who says he's a friend of yours. He's nervous about something"

"Sik's catamite?" Carolina's lip curled, "He's just afraid that I won't approve of him. He's harmless. And you're wasting my time. Out!" She pushed him again, and this time he went, climbing out of the forward cabin and sliding down to the ground.

"Care is more important than speed." He said softly as he stared up at the bulk of the ship, but Carolina still heard him.

She leaned over the edge, her brown hair falling around her face as she grinned down at him, "Bullshit it is. This run will make us into media darlings, John. Anatoray's future Empress arriving just in time to deliver critical news! They'll love us."

John Bren shook his head, uncertain. He didn't want fame, but Carolina was obsessed with generating popular support before she ascended to the throne, the better to enact her own — very different — policies.

"Relax." She ordered him as she tossed down his other tools before disappearing under the lowering canopy, the red highlights in her brown hair the last part of her that he saw. "If I screw this up, you'll have years to nag me about it!"

"Captain Bren?" The voice was similar, but not close enough. It wasn't Carolina's voice calling him. It couldn't have been; she would have laughed herself sick at the thought of him being a captain.

His mind rose back toward the present. "It's just Bren." He said, then shook his head roughly to clear out the last of the memory.

"Are you ... Well?" The woman was standing on his side of the table, a couple of feet away from him as though she didn't know whether it was safe to come any closer.

"Stellar." He played the last of the conversation back through his head, "You just accused me of helping to kill your sister. How should I feel? But I didn't sabotage Carolina's ship, nor did I let anyone else do it." He held her gaze as he said it, but once she'd determined that he was fine, there was no other indication of her real thoughts.

She watched him for a long moment in silence, long enough to make him uncomfortable. He squelched the reaction.

"No, you didn't." She said slowly, "But ... You're not sure that no one else did."

Bren took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Why are you pursuing this now? She's been dead for six or seven years. There were no questions asked about the crash, and I haven't exactly been hard to find if you wanted to ask me about it any time before now." When he put his glasses back on, Sophia had retreated to the other side of the table again.

"Just hard to catch." She pointed out.

"So write a letter." He shot back, then realized he was overreacting and leaned back in his chair. "So what do you want from me, your highness? Revenge? Blackmail?"

"Information." She gave him a smile that was perfect, but entirely insincere. Bren watched her warily, "You're the only one I can ask about what happened that day."

Idly one of her fingertips traced the ridge of flesh on one forearm where he could see the results of Gareck's good work.

"If I had helped kill Carolina, I could have done the same to you, couldn't I? Did you consider that?" Bren shook his head in disgust, his soft voice a condemnation that Sophia appeared to ignore, "What's to stop me from letting Banks toss you and your ship off the flight deck?"

Her expression didn't change at all, "My flight plans are a matter of public record."