I know where you sleep

[Sarah McFarlen]

Sparks

---

Sparks' expression was inscrutable. The thought of Vaelin not stealing the ship seemed stranger than the notion of him as a thief. He was already so far beyond the laws of the colonies that starship theft was to his record what a raindrop was to a thunderstorm. Doing something so normal as buying a ship, even via an alias, seemed, well, dull.

Where he got the cash was anyone's guess. Being an interstellar fugitive didn’t come with a great pay packet, last she’d checked. It didn’t help that the benefits usually came in the form of a plasma bolt. The greatest quantity of cash associated with the man was probably the bounty on his head. So the cash, at least, was likely stolen. Which meant she was still right, after a fashion. Her lips curled into a knowing grin equal parts acceptance and wry cynicism.

"Less unhappy than 'ready to rip my lungs out through my throat.' But, yeah, you've got the general gist of it." Sparks shrugged, nonchalant. "It'll be okay."

It wouldn't be the first time Sparks had earned Freya's ire. It was also not likely to be the last. Between drone ships, radiation burns and snubbing her offer of promotion, Sparks figured that she was close to scoring a free drink on that particular loyalty card. The Vorsitzende was not a woman known for her motherly demeanour.

"We'd be better off going to her, really. I don't want to have to explain why you're here, in the crew quarters, on top of everything else." She stepped back, dropped her voice an octave in a passable impression of Vaelin.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, I hit your specially-concealed station with ranging equipment from my personal battleship. This was before I climbed aboard under a false identity - you did use a false ID, right? Oh, and once I'd finished with that I figured I'd hack the internal security and let myself into the crew quarters. Just for good measure. Yes, terribly sorry. Hope it didn't cause you any distress."

Sparks raised an eyebrow, let the accent drop.

"It's not really the sort of message you send via text. I mean, unless you're aiming to get us shot." Than again, this was Vaelin. Getting shot at was always an option. The Widerstand was tolerant, as far as violent revolutionaries went, but there were still limits. Pointing a battleship at Bruchsal, even inadvertently, was probably edging dangerously close to them.

Sparks jerked her head towards Vaelin's terminal, attempted to shake her hair back into place. "You spelt 'Freya' wrong, by the way. It's e-y-a."

It didn't matter in the long run, but every second she dragged the conversation out was another second she dodged Freya's company. It couldn't last. Even Sparks couldn't run forever. She tapped send on her terminal, sent the meeting request spiralling through the station's network to Freya's desk.

"Alright." She exhaled, tasting the filter-stale air. "Time to go pay the piper."

*

Continued in
No Good Deed.

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"This is really sort of a personal project of mine."

- James Arland, on single-handedly engaging an enemy regiment.

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