Chapter 6

"That went well, I think." Sophia said brightly to the rows of buttons in the lift. Then she stepped back and slumped against the wall. If anyone looked at the viewscreen, they'd think she was understandably drained from her interview with the captain.

She was, but not for the reasons they'd assume.

It was one thing to make threats when you were sitting in a chair flanked by several security guards, and you had an entire country figuratively backing up your words. It was another thing entirely to be sitting at someone else's' mercy with nothing but a handful of half-truths and prevarications and still manage to look confident.

It didn't help that she'd been so focused on getting the Warlock back on his feet and confronting John Bren that she hadn't given her body enough time to recover from the Warlock's ugly landing in the Silvana's docking bay.

She could feel her body shaking, and took a long shuddering breath to try and calm herself down. Intellectually she knew she was doing alright, but her body had an excess of adrenaline to process, and it crawled over her skin like pin-footed spiders.

The lift doors opened smoothly and Sophia jerked away from the wall, heading for the Warlock. Now that she'd told John Bren who she really was, and what she wanted, it wasn't safe to eat anything but the flight rations she'd packed in the Warlock's storage compartments.

Sophia forced herself to walk at a normal pace across the flight deck to her ship, and not run like her body wanted to. Once she was inside the Warlock, she could climb the walls until the adrenaline wore off.

Her expression darkened. At least part of that adrenaline was because she'd taken one look at the man that John Bren had become, and instantly desired him. The confrontation in the tiny negotiation room had only confirmed her first impression, and that had been before she was sure he wasn't involved with her sister's death.

When she reached the shadow of the Warlock, she realized she was breathing hard. So much for a sedate walking pace. With a growl, she scrambled up to the canopy, checked that it hadn't been tampered with, and levered it up high enough to slip inside before letting it close again. The cabin really needed to be aired out, but she needed to get rid of the damn adrenaline more.

Not John Bren, just Bren.

"Damn it!" Sophia let out a little scream of frustration and went to open the Warlock's many interior compartments. She reminded herself that it was only her body reacting to all the stress of the last couple days. Once she calmed down, she'd stop hearing his soft, dangerous voice in her head.

Once she stopped hearing his voice in her head, she'd calm down.

As she suspected, the gear in the compartments had been thrown around by the slide, but nothing was broken. She left the mess the way it was and returned to the forward cabin, looking at all the dead consoles. They were a sharp reminder of what her plans had brought her to.

Hissing out a quick breath, she climbed back out of the cabin and went to the back of the Warlock where the fuel tank sat uncovered inside its cradle, the extra space filled with stacks of the panels that Sophia had already taken off the Warlock's exterior.

She rummaged in the engine's tool compartment and found a face mask and a scraper, and went to work scraping burnt Claudia off the inside of the fuel tank. It was a hard, messy job and one that was best suited to burn off the extra energy she had.

She put her back into the work and soon there was a flurry of burnt Claudia flakes raining around her. She alternated between the bottom, sides, and top of the fuel tank, switching to a new side whenever her arms started to hurt too much.

"Need help, little girl?"

Sophia whirled at the voice, thinking it was a prelude to assault. Then she saw that two of the mechanics had wandered over to watch her work, their expressions holding nothing but idle curiosity. She made a sound of disgust at her own panic, then unclipped the face mask and gave them a rueful smile.

"You could have offered to help an hour ago." She said.

"Just got the word from the Head now." One man put a knuckle to his temple in a lazy salute, "I'm Seth. This is Tully Naylor, but we call him Naylor."

Sophia waved away a drifting flake of Claudia, incredulous. "Banks told you to help me? You've got to be joking."

Naylor grinned at her, "Bren gave the order. Banks wasn't happy."

"I should think not!" Sophia retorted, "I bet he told you to help me right off the edge of the docks!"

Seth shrugged. "Not this time. What needs to be done?"

Sophia turned back to examine the fuel tank, taking the chance to roll her shoulders and ease some of the ache from wielding the scraper over her head. "I think the tank is mostly clean. I'm leaving the electrical for another day to make sure it's all dry. Today I plan to start looking at the engine." She turned back with a testing grin, "Have either of you fine gentlemen ever worked on a vanship before?"