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Pausing in front of him with the toes of her boots brushing the metal ramp, she endured yet another lurid appraisal.

Well, tit for tat. She studied him too. The way his grease-stained pants clung to muscled thighs.

His brown vest—that had once been white—molded a carved torso only hard work could build.

“Hi.” She fluttered her fingers in a wave, hitched her shoulders, and rocked on her toes.

He grinned, then wiped off his smile. “Get lost.”

“That’s rude. I was told to report for work.” Farg, if nothing came of Ande’s instructions, she didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t need tokens, but traveling between planets was a sure way to avoid running into anything to do with Carne Corp. “Contact is Themba Masuku.”

“Ah.” The guard’s grin returned. “You must be the new security.”

She winced. Sure, security, but alas, it was up her alley. She could fix things too, although sol plates from a decade ago couldn’t compare to the current technology. “I am.” She squared her shoulders.

“I’ll escort you in.” He tapped buttons on his smart band and gestured to her to follow.

As soon as she stepped onto the ramp, wands rose from the corners, and a white beam hummed into existence.

It took a few seconds to scan her. “Sorry. We take security seriously, what with the high price of water. Name’s Dieter.

” He offered his hand, which she accepted.

This was Dieter? She could see why Ande thought he would do.

The mechanic’s touch was gentle, and perhaps he would be as cautious when he fucked her.

She followed him along winding passages patched with strips of mismatched metal.

The lighting flickered. Nothing other than groaning machinery reached her ears.

A mixture of oil, burned rubber, and ozone saturated the air.

“I’m taking you to the captain. Ande said you would be along.” Dieter glanced at her, his gaze lingering on her almost-exposed breasts. “He didn’t say where you’re from, though.”

She grinned. Farg, she loved her best friend. “Here and there.”

Dieter tapped on a dented metal door that looked like it came out of an ancient submarine. Winking at her, he leaned his shoulder against it and shoved it open. Behind a metal desk sat a fat man, dark-skinned, dreadlocks to his shoulders and cybernetic eyes glowing silver.

She knew that face.

Before her, with a bulging stomach, sat the legendary Maz the Massive.

He nibbled on a chicken leg—the real bird—licked his fingers, then wiped his hands on a dirty rag. With a flick of his wrist, he instructed Dieter to close the door.

Alone in the room, she studied the unmade bunker bed, antique books scattered across the floor, hundreds of sketches on the walls, and a bonsai tree stashed at the back of an empty shelf.

“Victorious in my quarters?” He rose, strode to the vendor, and filled his cup with…she sniffed, coffee—the good kind. “Victoria Harper, in the flesh.”

Harper? No, she wanted nothing to tie her to the Ring and her pa. Her ma’s maiden name would have to do. “It’s Victoria Barnes now.” She slid her carry-all off her shoulder and caught the strap with her fingers before easing it to the floor.

“If you’re dodging Carne, then yes.” He sipped his black coffee and blinked at her. “I don’t doubt your skill, gal. It’s why I agreed to Ande’s offer.” He settled behind his desk. “You’ll work hard, keep your head down, and not start fights my crew will lose.”

“Fair enough.”

He paused, ran another gaze over her outfit, one she was beginning to regret buying. Drafe had damn near devoured her with his yellow gaze, but the lecherous glances she was getting tainted the enjoyment she’d found.

“No sexual relations allowed on my ship.”

She jerked back. Farg. Now what? Ande must not have known about it or else he wouldn’t have recommended Dieter. “Only on your ship, or are way stations included in that?” If there was time, she might be able to convince Dieter to take a hotel room with her before they departed.

Themba pursed his lips, a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re smart. I’ll give you that. What happens on dock leave is not my problem.

Word is, you didn’t finish your bon voyage so to speak, and are still the property of Carne.

You’re lucky, gal, that what I owe Ande is huge.

” He muttered about harboring a fugitive as he flicked through an abused paperback—a massive sandworm on the cover.

By the state of his quarters, it looked like he never left it.

“I’d appreciate you not mentioning…my past. No one on board knows. ”

“Ditto.”

“Security is ex-military. They’ll rib you in the beginning, give you the shitty jobs, but it’s par for the course. Don’t take it to heart.” He drained his coffee but held onto the cup, his gaze hooded. “I heard Erv died. No details are known.”

She winced, remembering the macabre scene that had greeted her.

How she felt about him was ambiguous at best. Sometimes, he’d been the father she never had, despite knowing his ‘care’—ensuring medical treatment, good food, and rest—protected Victorious, the asset.

Mostly, he’d been an ass with his smirking, training, kidnapping more children, and convincing many to upgrade their limbs to cybernetics.

She gritted her teeth. Her pure-human status was no longer. In the end, Erv and Carne had won. “A single shot with the blaster, execution-style.”

The door swung inward without warning, with Dieter leaning in. “Got a problem, boss. The crew called for an evac.”

Themba leaped to his feet. “What the farg?”

“Not to worry. I dispatched Tiny.” Dieter’s gaze didn’t stray from Vic’s chest, not even when Themba circled his desk to grip Vic’s arm and tug her to the door.

“Show Vic to her quarters, and stop ogling her. She’s not ice, y’know.” Themba waddled to his desk.

“Sure, boss.” Dieter pressed his palm to her lower back to slip past her, heading deeper into the ship. She sucked in a deep breath to catch the familiar and nostalgic smells of grease and sol.

Behind her, Themba roared into his wrist, “Farg it, Sarg, I asked you to keep a low profile…”

As Dieter led her along kinked pathways with too many doors, she said nothing.

He had a lovely ass, but other than that, she reeled from the interview.

Maz had accepted all manner of implants.

She doubted her captain had more than thirty percent human left in him.

Which meant, she might not be able to take him.

She grinned. A challenge wasn’t a bad thing, per say.

Up a ladder she and Dieter climbed, the bulkheads closing in, the metal grating beneath her feet worn, and with stickers and posters personalizing submarine doors. In front of a plain door, the name slot blank, he paused. “My room’s the red door…if you need anything .”

She frowned. “Captain said—”

“What Themba doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” Dieter caught a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “When you’re settled, just call me on the system. Computer, this is Vic, grant her permanent access to room ‘403.’”

“Access granted to Victoria Barnes,” a semi-feminine voice crackled as the door swung open. “Room sterilization complete. Security restricted to Victoria Barnes.”

“It’s just Vic.” She flashed a smile at Dieter while closing the door in his face. “Computer?”

“Yes, Vic.”

She felt like an idiot with her face raised to the paneled ceiling. “Is anyone else allowed access to my room?”

“On this ship, Security personnel can override access.”

Vic sighed. As she had thought. So her room but not hers.

Yet another place she couldn’t call home.

Scanning the four-by-four-meter cube, she studied the markings on the walls indicating the hidden toilet, basin, table, and closet.

The sol-bath was a sliver of glass embedded in the wall.

The bunker was single, and she almost missed staring at the rungs of Ande’s bed above it.

This was freedom, no Carne, no Pa, just four walls on an ice hauler heading into space. She was far from the childish dream of working her ma’s sol farm. This was her life, the embodiment of freedom, for now.

No one had ever accused her of lacking patience.