Devon flew the emergency craft straight into the main dock on Europa station. Unlike the hauler’s forum, which kept private docks for the bigger hauling ships, the main dock was public. Each smaller ship hooked onto the docking ring with only a four meter space between them. While the emergency shuttle was quicker and easier to fly than Zephyr, he still didn’t like how close he had to get to other ships.

The computer helped him with the calculations of course, but he couldn’t help feeling stifled by the tight space. He breathed in relief when the computer confirmed that they were docked and sealed to the station. The computer relayed all his identification numbers to the station’s mainframe and he waited for the clear to disembark.

He felt the galvanizer press into his lower back and frowned. It was hidden behind his jacket but he still felt exposed. He could still hear Seach’s promise that it was on the lowest setting and the grim note in his voice as he’d instructed him on how to use it. The blocky thing was different from a velocitor weapon. It came with two triggers, one at the thumb and one at the forefinger and both had to be pressed in order for the weapon to fire.

That seemed like the smarter way to do things, he thought, less chance for an accidental discharge. Still, he didn’t like carrying it. Shooting slabs out in the Martian desert was one thing, this was another. This was intention, premeditation or something like that, and it made his skin crawl.

Paul flatly refused to take one, which bothered him even more. Paul was to be the last trip, so Jorry had agreed that she could cover him if necessary. Devon, however, was the first trip and according to his parents this trip was the safest. That seemed strange to him. If any of them were caught then it was only a matter of time before Zephyr was discovered, so “safe” was relative. And really, if this was so safe, why make him carry a weapon?

The air locks released and he unbuckled himself from the pilot’s seat. Like the Zephyr, emergency pods docked at the back, so he had to climb down to reach the outer door. The station’s gravity pushed into his little pod, made him feel heavy and awkward. He stretched and shifted on his feet until he was confident he could walk without stumbling. Then he punched the code to open the door.

On the other side a gaunt older woman in a green custom’s uniform stood waiting. She had dark hair and black eyes and she wouldn’t smile back at him as he stepped onto the grated floor. They were on the third tier in a wide, dome-like main dock, and Devon had to throttle down a sense of unease at the sight. Hauler’s forums could get crowded but nothing like this. People were everywhere, milling throughout the structure idly and talking so loud that it took a minute for him to realize the agent had asked him something.

He tried hard not to blush and smiled again at the woman. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re registered with the Alonzi freighter coming in from Titan Station, is this correct?”

“Yes,” he said, and prayed he was a good enough liar.

Alonzi, he thought. Where had Zephyr come up with that name?

“It says here the Alonzi should have arrived yesterday.”

“Miscalculation on the fuel. We arrived, we just couldn’t get here,” Devon said with a sheepish laugh. “They sent me to get some fuel. Just enough to fly her in.”

He was talking too fast and he knew it. When she looked up at him from her data pad her eyes were more annoyed than anything else. He felt his face heat up as she stared at him.

Crap, he thought. She knows.

He held her gaze and tried to breathe.

“Your miscalculation, I assume?” she said.

“My …?” He stammered and then laughed. “Oh, right. Yes. Afraid it was. All my fault.”

“Likely not a mistake you’ll be making on the next trip,” she said and looked back down at the pad.

“No,” he said. Good Lord, this was taking too long. “Not if I want to keep my job. Captain …” He stopped just short of saying her name and rocked back on his heels, hunting for a way to finish the sentence without landing them all in jail. “Captain’s a real tightwad. Iron-fisted and all. I’ll be lucky if I still have a job when I get back.”

“If it were a passenger ship you would have been fired on the spot,” the woman said. “Lives are in danger when you’re floating with no fuel. Don’t ever forget that.”

Devon looked down at his boots and shoved his hands in his pockets. Seach’s instructions ran through his mind, filling him with dread.

Don’t make a scene, don’t be noticeable, don’t talk with anyone for more than two minutes. Be friendly but forgettable. Get in and get out. By his calculations he’d already been talking to the agent for too long. And since she felt the need to chastise him, Devon had a horrid feeling she would remember him. How did his parents do this? Lying was nerve-wracking business.

He suddenly wanted his room and the Zephyr and solitude. At least there he could predict when something might explode in his face. Here, with the grouchy customs lady, he had no idea.

“It looks like you’re all clear. You have one hour to load and depart.”

He almost breathed in relief. He knew better than to smile at the curmudgeon so he just nodded and thanked her. She was already leaving before the words were out of his mouth. Devon rubbed the back of his neck as she left and exhaled.

“Right,” he muttered to himself.

He turned and headed for the nearest metal staircase. The main docking unit had eight tiers and all of them seemed to be full. The tiers curved along the outer wall, each comprised of a section of walkway eight feet wide and jutting from the hull. As he walked to the stairs he noted that some of the hull doors were sealed, which meant the station hadn’t actually reached capacity yet; which was insane because it certainly felt like it. He’d never seen this many people in one place before.

His shoulders brushed several other bodies as he made his way through the throng. He knew he shouldn’t but he looked for Jorry anyway. It would have been a comfort to know where she was, but as he reached the ground floor it became an effort just to find the fuel seller. So he gave up and focused on his task.

Get in and get out, he thought as he reached the first fuel seller.

~*~*~

“I’m loaded,” Seach told her through her earpiece. “You’ve got thirty minutes before Paul makes his run. Be careful.”

Jorry didn’t acknowledge him out loud but she swiped her wrist across the sleek metal surface of her private table. For most people the scanner would register the personal identification chips embedded in their skin. For Jorry, however, it scanned the chip in her metal bracelet instead, giving the station-wide computer a false name attached to a false account that paid for her drinks. Such bracelets were extremely illegal, for obvious reasons, so Jo had hers sewn into her gloves, which was surprisingly advantageous. The bracelets kept her gloves from bunching up or falling down.

She stood and wove her way through the crowded bar. Being the second oldest jumper station in the universe, Europa station was always full of people. The first stop for any incoming haulers entering Consulate space and the last stop for any leaving, it stood on the fringes of society. Its main structure was archaic, clunky and bigger than stations further out. Made of aluminum and steel rather than the modern double-layered cobalt and plasma hulls that had fashioned the other stations, it was forced to rely on a spinning spiral of water for its gravity. Jorry could feel the constant whir of kinetic energy vibrating through the hull and flexed her hands.

If anything went wrong she would have to be careful not to tap into that energy. The last thing she needed was to try floating her way to safety.

Rumor had it they meant to build a new station for Europa but there were no signs of construction yet. The Consulate’s disregard for anything this close to the border worked in her favor today so Jorry was glad at the lack of construction. It meant there were fewer soldiers to deal with and right now fewer soldiers was a very good thing.

Jo headed for the terminal closest to the bar. She ducked inside and squashed between an elderly couple and a giant stocky man with heavy eyebrows who seemed more interested in picking his teeth than sharing the space. She held her breath for the trip down to the station proper, fighting a real case of claustrophobia.

When the terminal doors opened it was even busier on the main floor than up on the haulers ring. Masses of people milled through the open, vault-like space, most standing in line for customs, hoping to gain passage into the actual living spaces of the station. The bar was full here too and the general store looked like it was nearing capacity.

She took a deep breath and started toward the store.

Tubing. All she needed was three feet of tubing.

And chocolate.

After this mess they all deserved some chocolate.

She felt sweat seep into her uniform and suppressed the urge to wipe her forehead. Either the heat regulator was broken or the air compressors simply could not manage so many bodies packed together. She thought it was probably for the best that she looked bedraggled and battling heat stroke, everyone else on the blasted station certainly was.

A familiar face emerged from the storefront and Jorry stopped halfway through the bay. Several people bumped into her, hissing under their breath about the abrupt halt but she couldn’t move. She blinked several times, trying to dislodge the image but he stayed there, standing just outside the store and looking every bit as formidable as she remembered.

Johnathan Relo.

Her heart ached at the sight of him. A distant buzzing in her head made her woozy and she swayed as thirty years of grieving slammed into her. His words drifted back to her, as clear as the day he’d been left behind.

“Run, Jo. Run and don’t stop running.”

Horror settled in her gut. Pivoting quickly Jorry hurried in a different direction, still too stunned to understand. She glanced back once, flinching as she recognized the tell-tale signs of a Grey Man. Relo’s face was utterly passive, his stance robotic. People gave him a wide berth, furtively eyeballing his black uniform and ushering children as far away from him as possible.

Jorry slipped back inside a terminal and tapped her earpiece.

“Abort,” she said. “Abort now.”

“What’s happening?” Seach asked.

From across the main floor she saw Relo’s head tilt and knew he was listening to them. And then a new figure exited the store and Jorry felt icy fear slide down her spine; Alexander Movax.

They’d been set up.

“Movax is here,” she said and then, because she knew Seach needed to know the truth of what they were up against; “And he’s brought Relo with him.”

The terminal doors closed.

“What?” Seach sounded as shocked as she felt. “Jo, you have to get out of there.”

“Yes, I figured that out on my own, Seach. Now cut communications and get out of here. You’ve got enough fuel to make it.”

They didn’t but Relo couldn’t know that. More importantly, Movax didn’t know that. She needed to obscure the truth long enough for Seach to get back to Zephyr. Everyone had documents, she’d seen to that. They weren’t as good as what she could have purchased off the black market but they’d do for a day or two.

The man standing next to her in the terminal gave her an unsettled look and tried to scoot to the side. She ignored him. She had bigger problems than to worry about how crazy she must look talking to herself.

“Can you get out?” Seach asked.

“I can try.”

Seach cursed. “I’m coming back for you.”

“Negative. Get back to the ship.”

“I won’t leave you …”

“Lieutenant Barlow,” she said through her teeth. “You get your ass back to the ship and get out of here. That’s an order.”

“Jo.”

She heard the strain in his voice. Blast it all! She’d just given him a direct order. Again. Would she never outgrow the military?

Seach had to know they were out of options. Even if she’d been standing in the hauler’s forum Movax would have ordered a lock down on all shuttles by now. Her little emergency vessel didn’t have the defenses of the Zephyr so there was no blasting her way out of the bay. And even if that had been an option there were too many people in the main docking ring, she couldn’t risk miscalculating and killing everyone.

She was stuck.

Jorry closed her eyes and thought about telling him she loved him, but that didn’t seem fair. And with Relo listening in she felt strangely torn, as though somehow Johnny could actually feel betrayed under the circumstances.

He knew, she thought. Seach had to know by now how she felt. There was no sense in saying it out loud.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

“Get Devon out of here,” she said and shut the earpiece off.

The terminal reached the haulers ring and everyone filed out, most giving Jorry clandestine looks before hurrying away. Jo remained inside and slapped her hacking device onto the terminal controls, shutting the doors before anyone else could board. She heard several protests as the doors slid shut and ignored them, flicking the button to take her back down.

She did not have the element of surprise but she could still do plenty of damage. Unless she had to fight Relo, she thought, but the idea of fighting her long lost Captain was so unappealing she couldn’t deal with it, so she focused on the damage she could do.

They’d expect her to run. The hauler’s forum would be crawling with Consulate soldiers by now. The customs bay would be little better but at least there she could throw the first punch. And she was hoping Relo would be on his way to the Forum, believing she was headed for her ship.

If she could get through customs and into the general population of Europa station she might even be able to disappear for a while, but that hope was thwarted the moment the terminal doors opened. Consulate soldiers were everywhere, rounding people up. The crowd was thinning and tall, slender blondes matching her vague description were corralled in a separate section. Several of the women were rightfully cranky about the force being used against them.

Jorry pulled out her asp.

“Ma’am, we need you over here,” a young soldier said, stopping her with a hand as he approached. “It’ll just take a moment.”

She looked up into his face. He was maybe a year older than Devon. Blonde, blue-eyed, kind features, but sharp, too. She saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes as he realized who he was talking to. His mouth opened and she knew he was about to shout a warning to his fellows.

Jo snapped her asp open and swung low, catching him at the side of the knee. The solid whack of asp to knee shuddered through her arm and she heard him cry out before crumpling to the ground. His galvanizer clattered to the floor and she dove over him, snatching up the weapon as she rolled over her shoulder. She popped to her feet just behind him and felt out with her taps. Several soldiers came running for her position.

No Relo, she registered and then focused on the lights, pulling all the electrical energy nearby into her taps.

The entire customs bay plunged into darkness and she reallocated, bursting forward with unnatural speed as she ran for the general store. There would be a warehouse behind it – standard issue on every station – and she didn’t want to hurt civilians if she could help it.

A spear of light pierced the gloom on her right and she cursed.

Someone was firing a galvanizer.

She saw its trajectory, saw the section of corralled women about to be hit and turned. She launched herself toward the women, gritting her teeth and praying she reached them in time. Bolts were not like lights or batteries; they were too focused, too intense for a general draw. She had to be right in the line of fire in order to be useful.

Jorry slid to a stop in front of one terrified older lady and her equally terrified daughter just before the bolt could hit. She heard both women gasp as she held out one gloved hand. The bolt smacked into her palm, sizzled past her glove and right into her taps.

A loud crackling encompassed her, drowning out the sounds of soldiers moving and women screaming. She felt the energy course through her, felt it tingle just under her skin, and reallocated, pushing it through her feet and into the wiring beneath the steel floor. Security cameras and lights exploded with the overload, giving her a flash of the fight headed her way.

A dozen men had rallied and were congregating in the center, all of them in night vision and tactical gear. The lights flickered out and the room fell back into darkness. Jorry ran, focusing on the general area she’d seen filling with soldiers.

Get away from the other women, give them a chance to run, she coached herself.

People screamed and she heard the crowd begin surging through the room, blindly hunting for the exits. Jo ignored the bedlam and counted her strides, lashing out with her asp the moment she was in range of the closest man. She felt the shock of impact reverberate through her palm and turned, ducking low to avoid retaliation.

The man she’d hit turned with her and shot. Jorry swiveled away, bright blue-white hissing past her and sinking hard into another soldier instead. The hit forced the second soldier’s grip to clench and his own galvanizer went off. An instant later the room lit up as every soldier in her vicinity fired.

Jorry dropped to the ground, panting, and let the bolts fly.

Please God, don’t hit the civilians. There are children here.

Soldiers collapsed around her, bodies hitting hard against the metal floor. She jerked away from one man who fell just beside her, his body still twitching from the bolt that struck him. An unpleasant cooked smell permeated the air and Jorry shut her eyes.

“Hold your fire!” Someone shouted.

The room hiccupped with sporadic shots before going quiet. Military grade flashlights began to flick on. Most of them were outside the circle of trigger-happy men and she ascertained that the bulk of Consulate soldiers were now unconscious on the floor around her. Beams swept over the tangle of men and women around her.

For a breathless moment Jo considered staying where she was. She didn’t want to hurt these people. She just wanted Seach and Devon safe. The longer she dragged this out, the more time they had to get away.

“Is she gone?”

“No, she’s still here.”

Several curse words and more searching lights. Jo stayed still, listening.

“How’d she do that?”

Someone grunted the equivalent of; “Hell if I know.”

She began to map out where they all were by the distance of their voices.

“She’s a deserter. It don’t matter how she did it. We just gotta get her.”

Footsteps shuffled close by. Someone was carefully wading through his comrades, gingerly nudging arms and legs out of his way as he searched for her. His light passed over her face and she tensed, waiting. The light came back and he swore, leveling his galvanizer at her.

“Don’t move!” He ordered.

Jorry drained the power from her own weapon’s cells and dropped it, opening her hands in surrender. Her taps hummed, cycling the power through her, getting warmer by the second the longer she held the energy.

“Hands on your head!” He was smart enough not to step closer and kept his weapon aimed at her face. “Jefferson! Lock her down!”

Jefferson – or at least Jorry assumed it was Jefferson – came from her right and pulled a pair of thick zip-ties from his cargo pocket. The skin around her taps grew hot, a sensation like being doused in scalding water, but she held the energy still. She waited, laying prone as he knelt beside her. He grabbed her wrist and she finally reallocated, shoving off the ground with a burst of energy.

She whirled around Jefferson just as his partner fired. Kicking Jefferson in the hip, she shoved him into the bolt’s trajectory. Jefferson caught the bolt at the center of his chest, his whole body suddenly stiff and jerking under electrical pulses.

Jorry pushed the rest of her energy reserves into kinetics and ran for the shooter. He tried to fire again but she snagged his wrist in one hand and thrust her left palm into his elbow. Bone snapped under her hand and he dropped the weapon with an anguished shout. Jorry turned, leading the shooter by his broken arm until she threw him into the path of his oncoming friends.

Four flashlights, she counted. Four left.

Something blurred in her vision. An instant later pain bloomed in her jaw, exploding through her teeth and she staggered back. Before she could regain her equilibrium a foot slammed into her gut so forcefully that she was lifted off her feet. She fell half on top one of the unconscious soldiers. A sick knot of pain clenched in her chest as she struggled to breathe.

She knew who it was before she saw him. Only another Tapped could move that fast. He walked straight into a beam of flashlights, his handsome, familiar face betraying nothing. Jorry panted up at him, struggling onto all fours.

Drag it out, she coached herself. The more they focused on her, the less they focused on Seach and Devon.

His foot shot out but she caught it in both hands, rolling her body toward him instead. He fell forward, catching himself and pushing back to his feet just as she stood up. They squared off. She could hear more soldiers filing into the room. Orders were given to start evacuating civilians and several more flashlights lit the space.

Jorry rolled her neck and flexed her fists.

It’s not Relo, not really, she told herself.

But it was.

Somewhere deep inside it was Johnathan. She had to believe that, had to believe he could be saved.

Her heart twisted at the blank stare he gave her. She knew it wouldn’t do any good but she had to try.

“Johnny,” she said, ignoring the numbers surrounding them. “It’s me.”

In answer Relo charged and she had to concentrate on blocking. Two low strikes, one high, a kick at her knees that she barely avoided and Jo finally fought back. She swiveled around his right fist and struck his exposed ribs, heard the crack of bone and a grunt of pain. He caught her by the hair and yanked her leftward. Jorry instinctively grabbed his wrist and fell, dragging him down with her until he released her hair. She started to roll away but he got hold of her shoulder and pulled her back.

They wrestled for dominion, limbs curling and twisting as they each avoided getting pinned. His knee struck her shoulder with enough force to make her teeth rattle. She shoved her elbow into his face and he jerked back, mouth smeared with blood. Jorry slipped around him, desperately avoiding his grip. He was strong and impossibly fast, a solid, writhing mass under her.

She spotted the final tap at the base of his neck. It was different from the others, clear and glowing blue. She reached for it, praying that if she could just dislodge it or something the real Johnny Relo could break free.

He suddenly shoved backward, his weight propelled by his taps and they both crashed against the steel floor. Dizzy lights pierced her vision and she lost her grip. He captured her right arm, craning it back nearly to breaking it point. Her shoulder strained, pain spiking through her body. She felt the sharp edges of a galvanizer against her spine just before several thousand volts went zapping into her taps. She had to reallocate quickly, pouring the energy through her and into every available cable nearby.

He didn’t stop, just kept pushing the bolts in until she was overloaded. All she could do was concentrate on reallocating the energy. Her taps grew warm, and then unbearably hot, and she shouted something unintelligible. Darkness throbbed into her vision. Jorry planted her free hand on the floor, frantically trying to keep up with the flow of energy. She pushed upward, straining against Johnny’s grip on her.

Do something, her mind screamed.

She shouted, reallocating the flow with an explosive backward push that sent both of them soaring several feet. The galvanizer flew away with Relo but the damage was done. Jorry hit the ground again, her legs collapsing under her. She panted and reeled, dizzy with the release of energy. She caught herself before her face could smack into the steel floor and stayed there.

She needed to get up. Johnny would be back any second.

Jorry forced herself to her feet and swayed, scanning the dark room for signs of his approach. Her legs felt wobbly and awkward, like she’d been running for miles and only just now stopped to breathe. Dozens of flashlights trained on her, laying out a perimeter circle with only her in the center.

Someone shouted an order from the perimeter and it took its time registering. Jorry squinted at the line of lights just as several weapons fired at once. Her heart lurched and she lifted her hands in time to catch two of the bolts with her palms. Three more hit her at her chest, searing past her uniform jacket and into her skin. Jorry gritted her teeth and fell to a knee just as several more bolts struck her from the back. She reallocated quickly but it wasn’t fast enough.

Her taps scorched against her skin as the energy drained out of her and the firing stopped. She toppled forward. Her head felt light and detached, her body shaky and weak, but she knelt in the center of the circle, refusing to pass out.

Not yet, she thought, not yet.

A figure stepped forward, moving purposefully to her position. Jorry looked up, knowing it would be Relo before she saw him. His fist struck her cheek hard, sending her back down to her hands and knees. She felt teeth loosen and tasted sharp copper. He grabbed her head, slammed his knee into her face and blinding pain burst through her vision. Her nose made a soft, sickening snap as it broke and she fell back. She rolled onto her side, groaning and half blind.

Another man moved into the circle, coming to stand just beside Relo. Her vision dimmed. She was going to pass out very soon, she knew it. Still, she forced herself to blink up at the newcomer.

Alexander Movax smiled down at her, his pristine black boots reflecting light at her. His suit was immaculate, a soft gray that almost made him glow in the middle of the dark custom’s bay.

“Hello, Captain,” Movax said.