I woke up warm and comfortable. For a minute, I refused to open my eyes. The temperature was perfect, the anti-grav bed keeping me in the ideal position. Relaxed, perfectly balanced. This bed was better than the one I had on Hyperion Deep, which had already been high-end furniture. It was not just the anti-grav. The room had adaptive thermal features. It could control the temperature of any surface to a fraction of a degree. My back was being kept at the perfect temperature, so were my legs and my head.

  I'm in heaven. I had an awesome night. The best sleep in ages. Certainly beats trying to sleep in a cell on an uncomfortable chair.

  It suddenly struck me that I was no longer marveling at every new piece of advanced tech. I was starting to consider most of it as normal.

  I've become a native. The thought brought a smile to my face.

  I silently thanked Rosalia for insisting on a luxury hotel.

  I stretched, listened to my shoulders pop, and swung my legs off the bed. The floor was warm beneath my feet.

  After a quick shower, I selected comfortable clothes and felt ready to face the world. I entered the common room to find Cornelius already there, seated in a comfortable chair facing the huge windows that made up the entirety of one of the walls. He was reading from a holographic display while sipping from a cup. The faint aroma of coffee reaching my nose.

  "Morning," I said.

  "Afternoon, actually," he replied, still reading. "We felt you needed your sleep, so we decided to not wake you up."

  The suite was big and very luxurious. It had four bedrooms. One was a huge monstrosity of gaudy luxury, clearly meant for a noble guest. None of us felt comfortable using it, so we decided to turn it into a spare slash storage room and we each randomly selected one of the smaller rooms meant for servants. Well, smaller did not mean small by any means. They were each bigger than my small studio apartment on Earth.

  Through the window, we could see the station's commercial district. Located on the upper layer of the ring, it was open to the void of space, the atmosphere kept in only by an invisible forcefield. With half a kilometer from the district's floor to the forcefield, it looked like a modern city directly in the void of space, the skyscrapers seeming to reach for the stars. The ring that formed the station had a radius of five kilometers and I could see the curve of it in the distance, bright against the pure blackness of space.

  The view was mesmerizing. I stood there, taking it all in.

  I was still admiring the view when Cornelius spoke.

  "You may want to have lunch. The view is not going anywhere and your body needs fuel."

  "Ah. Yes, good point," I collected myself and realized I was indeed feeling quite hungry.

  I ordered breakfast from the suite's concierge system. It was as simple as a verbal request to the room's ambient AI, which responded in a pleasant, neutral voice and confirmed delivery within eight minutes.

  Waiting for my food, I went to sit next to Cornelius and resumed admiring the view.

  "You ever get tired of it?" I asked him.

  "Tired of what?"

  "The view. Space." I let the feeling of wonder slip into my voice.

  He smiled and looked at me fondly. "Yes and no. When I stop to admire it, I find it stirs a feeling of wonder and profound awe in me. But, contrary to you, it has been a constant of my world since childhood. So it faded into the background a long time ago. It's there. It's beautiful, but I rarely feel the need to stop and actually look at it. But I can see why it is affecting you so much. Were you really unable to see it, where you came from?"

  "Only on recordings. Never in person. Only a handful of people went to space on my home planet. We really were at an early stage of space exploration. The game, Life Among the Stars, the one I was obsessed with, did its best to simulate it, but in the end, it still felt fake." I paused, searching for my words. "I think it made us crave the real thing even more. If... when we find my friends, I'm sure you'll observe the same behavior from them. We were all a bunch of space nerds. This..." I gestured toward the void, "this is all we ever dreamed of. That's why I don't really want to go back. That's why I want to become a mercenary and fly the Mahkkra, to explore, to see it all."

  "I see. That actually makes perfect sense."

  A pause.

  "Unfortunately, you will have to wait a bit for that. Until we know more about who actually ordered your detention and make sure they cannot try again, you will have to stay here. Under protection."

  I pried my eyes away from the window to look at him.

  "That's alright. For now. I think I could do with a few days of rest," I replied, forcing a smile. "And I can't complain about the amenities. As long as we're making progress toward my goal, I'm good."

  He was looking at me. I was sure he was using his psionic training to feel my mood.

  "I'm good," I reassured him. "Honestly. I am. Don't forget you're talking to a hardcore gamer. I'm used to grinding. To being patient and making small iterative progress."

  "Yes. I do believe you are. Strangely."

  One hour later, Rosalia found us in those same chairs. Cornelius was still reading and I was still stargazing, an empty plate gently floating next to my chair.

  She seemed annoyed, but her face lit up when she saw me.

  "Hi. You weren't leaving your room, so I went to the pool, then did some shopping," she told me.

  "Hi... Shopping?" I was confused. "You left to go shopping? Isn't that dangerous right now?"

  "Don't worry. I never left the hotel, and a security team was always nearby. The amenities are comprehensive. They have a shopping gallery right in the hotel. You won't get as much variety and they are lacking some items, but it is still very good still. Additionally, they took Seraphine's orders very seriously and upped our security significantly." She let out an annoyed sigh. "They even insisted on having two female officers accompany me to the changing room when I wanted to try some of the outfits."

  Pool and a shopping gallery! Nice. If it doesn't take long to get our paperwork done, I'm sure it won't even feel like a prison at all.

  We spent the rest of the day lazing around. Resting.

  On the second day, I visited the pool and the gym, spending the whole morning exercising.

  Rosalia was right: the security deployment was impressive. Guards at every elevator access, checking credentials. A team of six was shadowing me everywhere.

  I spent several hours at the gym. I reactivated the gym trainer on my holobracer that I'd been using on Hyperion Deep and started a new routine, guided by the now familiar virtual coach, constantly coaxed into giving more by the drive of virtual medals. In the back, I could see the smirks on some of the members of my security detail. Clearly, the idea of doing eight reps instead of five to get a gold medal instead of a bronze one was amusing. I did not care. The moment someone said I only got bronze, a fire was lit and I couldn't stop myself.

  Once again, after lunch I went to the window in the common room, the opacity dialed low, and watched the station's exterior through the faint shimmer of the reinforced panel.

  Ships. Dozens of them, moving in the careful choreography of dock approach and departure. Cargo haulers with boxy, practical silhouettes. Sleek private yachts with mirrored hulls. A pair of naval corvettes holding station in formation, their running lights blinking in synchronized patterns. Beyond them, the slow rotation of the station's outer modules, and beyond that: the stars.

  I was genuinely happy to rest. I needed it. Body and mind. I knew it was temporary. Those who tried to capture me would not stop there; it was just a matter of time. But I also knew I would grow restless if it lasted too long.

  Soon, I asked Cornelius to continue my training in psy-blocking. I wanted to be able to keep my emotions to myself. He and Rosalia also continued my education in Imperial law and all the things a space mercenary needed to know.

  The routine settled into place with the easy rhythm of something organic. Mornings in the gym. Afternoons studying.

  And almost every evening, the lighting would shift, a warm pulse flowing across the ceiling toward the entrance, like a ripple in still water, and the concierge system would speak.

  "Fleet Captain Ventari, active duty, requests entry."

  The first time she came for dinner, she was still in uniform. She sat at our table, straight and rigid. Like she was giving a briefing, which, zhich as it turned out, was exactly what she was doing.

  "The governor's been placed under house arrest," she said. "As you have already heard, an Imperial Inquisitor has been dispatched and should arrive within ten days."

  I looked at Rosalia. She raised an eyebrow.

  "The port authority detained a person under explicit imperial protection," Seraphine continued, reaching for the wine Cornelius had poured without breaking her cadence. "That's not a local failure. That's a systemic compromise. Every level of station governance is under review. Every official. Every bureaucrat with access to the override codes that were used to flag you for detention."

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  "How bad is it going to get?" I asked.

  "For you? Not bad at all, if we move quickly. For the station administration?" A tight smile. "I'd suggest they start organizing their personal affairs."

  "So they're scrambling to save their careers? Makes sense," I noted, with a hint of satisfaction.

  Seraphine scoffed. "Not just their careers. Your deal was with the imperial family. It means the Emperor himself approved it. Anyone involved has acted against the Emperor's wishes and cast a shadow on his authority. People have lost their lives for less."

  This had gone in a direction I was not expecting. "Execution?"

  "Yes. What did you expect?"

  "I don't know... I didn't really think about it. Demotions, fines... Probably some jail time for the worst offenders." I paused and scratched the back of my head, feeling foolish. "The way you explained it, it makes sense. I just didn't think too much about it. It's just... death seems a bit harsh..."

  Then I thought about how angry she had been when rescuing me. "Are you in trouble too? I mean... you said you had been tasked with protecting me and this happened. Are you also under scrutiny?"

  In the corner of my vision, I saw Rosalia also lean forward, clearly concerned for Seraphine's well being.

  "No. I had some explaining to do. My father was rather disappinted in me. Which, in a way, can be seen as worse, but you don't need to worry about me. I am not in any danger. Thank you for asking. And caring..."

  The rest of the meal went pleasantly with lighter topics. We moved to the lounge and continued talking for some time. She stayed longer than the briefing required, I noticed. So did Rosalia.

  By the third evening, Seraphine's visits had become ritual. The lighting would ripple. The concierge would announce her. She'd arrive, we'd all eat together, she'd report. And each evening brought something new.

  "My scouts found them," she said one night, and there was a gleam in her eye that the measured voice couldn't quite contain. "The Reizen pirates. The ones you fought in the Capella System."

  I sat up straighter.

  "Their base of operations... well, bases, plural, which is going to make my life significantly more complicated." She took a sip of wine and set the glass down with a precise click. "Two separate installations. Different systems. The coordination required for a simultaneous strike on both is..." She paused, "It's going to be a logistics nightmare. My planning staff will need to sleep in shifts."

  "Where are they?" Rosalia asked, and the question had the focused quality of someone who was already thinking three moves ahead.

  Seraphine pulled up a star chart on her personal holo, showing two points of light connected by dotted trajectories. "The primary base is here, in a debris belt around an uninhabited gas giant. Standard pirate setup. A hollowed-out asteroid, stolen infrastructure, the usual. The second one..." She tapped a point closer to the chart's edge. "Is here. Closer to the border of the Kingdom of the Blue Suns than I'd like."

  Something shifted in Rosalia's expression. Not surprise. Something closer to confirmation. A flicker across her features that said of course with such quiet resignation that it barely registered as a reaction at all. She didn't comment. She didn't need to.

  "Close enough for supply lines?" Cornelius asked.

  "Close enough for something," Seraphine said. "Supply lines, protection agreements, a place to fence stolen cargo. My intelligence team is looking into it, but the proximity alone is..." She shrugged. "Worrying."

  She let the implication settle, then moved on.

  "In any case, I'm going to need mercenary support for the operation. Standard procedure. Navy ships are great for destroying bases and naval combat against other military forces. But we lack the numbers to contain many small agile craft scattering in every direction." She looked at me, and the gleam was back. "I'm hoping you'll have your citizenship and guild registration sorted by then. I could use you."

  The reactions around the table, surprisingly, were different for each one of us.

  Personally, I was just excited. A first job. A real first job. Pirate hunting. The exact thing I'd spent years fantasizing about while piloting virtual ships through Life Among the Stars. I wasn't registered and I already had a job booked for me. I could feel the grin spreading across my face and I didn't even try to stop it.

  Rosalia's reaction was sharper. She gave Seraphine a long, appraising look. "Smart move," she said, and her voice was perfectly neutral. "Of course you want one of the best pilots in the sector flying with your task force."

  It was a compliment directed at me, but aimed at Seraphine. A strategic observation wrapped in flattery. I see what you're doing, and I approve, but I want you to know that I see it.

  Cornelius just nodded. "It gives us a reason not to stay on the station. Nico is safer in space, aboard the Mahkkra, than sitting in a hotel suite on a politically unstable station with an Inquisitor about to turn the local government inside out."

  Seraphine let out a faint smile, suggesting she'd anticipated every reaction and found them all satisfying.

  Not every evening was good news.

  She arrived one night with her jaw set in a way I was learning to read, and before she'd even sat down, I knew the topic. The Cymatic Halo.

  "Nothing," she said, frustration clear in her voice. "The investigation has stalled. Completely."

  She didn't touch the wine Cornelius offered. Instead, she went to the bar and helped herself to an amber bottle. Strong stuff. "I can't prove it. But someone is blocking the investigation. Someone is protecting them."

  The Cymatic Halo pirates were nothing like the Reizen amateurs. I knew that from personal experience. The Reizen pirates had been opportunistic, sloppy, operating cobbled-together ships held together by desperation and duct tape. The Cymatic Halo pirates used coordinated tactics and maintained formation. They had deployed an interdiction field technology that could shut down FTL drives from a distance and drained my shields like pulling a plug from a bath. And when they'd started losing, someone had used remote kill-codes to prevent capture and analysis.

  That wasn't piracy. That was a military operation masquerading as piracy.

  "The equipment alone should have generated leads," Seraphine said, and her voice was controlled in the way that meant she was very, very angry. "Military surplus ships don't appear from nowhere. Interdiction field generators require specialized manufacturing. Every component in those vessels has a heavily regulated supply chain, and those have records."

  "And yet the tracing fails," Rosalia said quietly.

  "Exactly. Every thread leads to a dead end, a sealed file, or a department that's suddenly too busy to respond to Naval Intelligence inquiries." Seraphine's jaw tightened. "Someone with significant institutional influence is making sure this investigation goes nowhere."

  I watched her as she spoke. From what I had seen so far, Seraphine rarely let emotion show, and when she did, it was controlled, subtle. But this was one of the exceptions. The frustration was real, and she wasn't bothering to hide it. At least not from us.

  Then came the evening the lighting rippled and the concierge announced "Fleet Captain Ventari, off-duty status, requests entry"

  I noticed the status change before the chime sounded. Off-duty. I'd never heard the system tag her that way before. Every previous visit had been active duty.

  Rosalia noticed too. She was on her feet before the door opened, positioning herself near the entrance. When Seraphine walked in, Rosalia stopped her.

  "You're off-duty," she said. "No report tonight?"

  It wasn't hostile, but it was pointed.

  Seraphine, to her credit, didn't deflect.

  "Every person I interact with on this station is someone I outrank, command, or coordinate with professionally," she said. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and her tone was light enough to pass for casual if you weren't listening carefully. "Colleagues. Subordinates. Officers who report to my chain of command. I don't socialize with any of them. It's corrosive to authority. You can't expect someone to follow your orders without question when they've watched you sing badly and spill drinks on yourself." A pause. A smile that had something honest underneath it. "You three are the only people on this station I can actually spend time with without it becoming a command structure issue."

  Something passed between Rosalia and Seraphine. Rosalia softened, then moved away from the door, letting Seraphine in.

  "Is that outfit a Prax'D'hyier?"

  Seraphine shrugged. "A gift from one of my aunts. I can't really wear it when I'm on duty..." Then she moved in and I could finally see her without Rosalia blocking my view.

  The uniform was gone, replaced by something that, by my Earth standards, was... a lot. Well. Actually, the opposite. It really wasn't covering much, and it was very deliberate about the parts it did cover. She knew exactly what she looked like in it, too.

  I found myself studying the ceiling, then my drink, then the far wall with an academic interest it did not deserve. Rosalia caught one of these desperate visual excursions and laughed.

  Traitor. This is not funny.

  Seraphine settled into one of the adaptive chairs and immediately took command of the evening.

  "Wine is fine for dinner," she said, waving away the glass Cornelius offered. "We need drinks. Real drinks. And food. Something to pick at." She was already interfacing with the room service system, scrolling through options. "You have this incredible suite and you've been drinking wine every night like pensioners. Completely unacceptable. This ends now. I'm not letting you waste a perfectly good off-duty evening."

  Within fifteen minutes, a service drone had delivered a selection of bottles I didn't recognize, a spread of finger foods arranged on heated platters, and two types of something that Seraphine described as "proper imperial spirits" with the reverence others reserved for religious texts. She poured for everyone, generous and insistent. It was clear what kind of evening this was going to be.

  Her outfit was not the only drastic change. She moved differently. Looser, almost lazy, but with a kind of practiced grace that made every step look intentional. The cut of the fabric turned half her motions into suggestions.

  Her hair was loose, with some strands attached to autonomous rings that made them drift and curl around her like Medusa's serpents. Her whole demeanor was open, animated. Gone was the guarded professional captain; this was Seraphine unrestrained, and she knew exactly how much attention she was drawing.

  I felt captivated and also deeply awkward.

  After the usual small talk was exhausted, the party really started. Seraphine launched into stories. Academy mishaps, with Rosalia sometimes chiming in; her point of view often made the stories even more ridiculous and helped everyone relax. Then she moved on to a shore leave incident on a station in the periphery that she swore was classified but told anyway.

  She was magnetic. That was the honest word for it. The same presence that made her effective on a bridge simply made it impossible to ignore her.

  The evening was warm and easy and fun, and by the time Seraphine left, it was very late. She left reluctantly, with the kind of drawn-out goodbye that suggested she'd rather stay.

  I was cleaning up the last of the glasses when Rosalia spoke from her chair, her tone deceptively casual.

  "You should be careful with that one."

  I looked up. "What?"

  "Seraphine." Rosalia's eyes were bright with amusement. "She's set her sights on you. And she is very determined. You will have difficulty escaping."

  I nearly dropped the glass. "She's not... that's not what's happening."

  Cornelius set down his reading tablet. "It would make a certain amount of strategic sense," he said, in the measured tone he used when analyzing a situation. "The deal the Empire has offered you is exceedingly generous. Citizenship, protection, expedited processing. That is not how Imperial bureaucracy normally operates. This is how nobility ensures loyalty. Through a web of favors and personal bonds. It would be entirely consistent for her to have been given... encouragement to cultivate a close relationship with you."

  "You're both imagining things," I said firmly. "She was just being friendly. She said it herself: she doesn't have anyone to socialize with on this station."

  Rosalia gave me a knowing smile.

  I retreated to my room with as much dignity as I could manage, which was not very much.

  She wasn't flirting. She was just being off-duty Seraphine. That's how she is with everyone.

  I lay on the anti-grav bed, staring at the ceiling's slow stellar drift.

  Right?