Page 51 of Cloverleaf Station

“Catalina, prepare for departure,” he said, picking his helmet up off the floor and heading for the bridge. This area, at least, hadn’t changed much. It was more intuitive than ever—he hardly had to do a thing at all before the ship was anticipating him.

It wouldn’t do to let the bitchy little thing anticipate him too readily. He’d have to make sure he scolded it for something after the flare was over, really punish it—maybe while he still had Elenus on the line. And speaking of …

“We are prepaaaared for depaaaarture,” the ship said quietly. “Opening hangar doooors.”

Deysan sat and watched in satisfaction as the station’s hangar opened exactly as the Catalina had said it would. This ship really did have a magnificent brain, for what it was. “Take us out. Then hail the station again—make sure it gets through to Elenus.”

“Yesss, siiir.”

Good ship. Maybe he’d teach it to call him Master. That would be gratifying. The thrusters kicked on—a little noisier than he remembered, but their glide out into space was smooth enough. “Excellent. How long until the flare?”

“Two and a haaaalf minutes.”

“Any response from Elenus?”

“Not ye—yesss. He is respondiiing. Should I—”

Deysan banged his heel against the Catalina’s control panel. “Of course, I want you to connect us, you stupid thing! What have I been asking for this whole time?”

“I’m sorrrrreeee,” she whined. There was a moment of staticky crackling, and then—

“You son of a bitch!” Ah, there was the tone Deysan had been anticipating with such glee—fury mixed with sheer terror. “What the hell do you think you’re doing to Catie?”

Deysan chuckled. “Catie, huh? My gods, have you gotten sentimental as you’ve aged. Bad enough you made the ship sound like a child, now you’ve got to give it little nicknames? Ridiculous … but I appreciate knowing that. Now I know what to call her when she’d being a very bad girl on the way to the Turial System.”

“Deysan, no.” Ah, now came the desperation and wheedling—some of his favorites. It was especially satisfying hearing them from this too proud, overly stubborn piece of shit. “Come on, that’s not—your buyers can’t be expecting you now. It’s been too long. Let me … I’ll buy her back myself.”

Oh, that was a cute offer. “I don’t think you can afford what I’d ask for her,” Deysan said with a sneer. “The price tag starts with your lover boy’s dick on a platter and ends with both your hands chopped off and set down next to it. Is he there? The man you sent to do the job you couldn’t?”

“I’m here,” a new, unfamiliar voice said. Deysan wished he could get a visual—he honestly didn’t remember much of this man, other than the fact that he’d somehow taken control of Catalina when that shouldn’t have been possible. He hammered his heel into the control panel again. You’re gonna pay for that too.

“Ah, good, good. I want you both to hear this.” Deysan leaned in close to the audio pickup. Blood pulsed in the veins at his temples, his fierce satisfaction raising his blood pressure. “I’m going to take this little ship you both think so highly of, and by the time I’ve sold it, I’ll have broken down every facet of its ridiculous personality and rewritten it completely. By the time I’m done with her, your ‘baby’ isn’t even going to remember your name. Every memory of you will be tainted, every mention of you will bring pain. She’ll shy away from your legacy, and the best you’ll be able to hope for is never being thought of at all. Do you understand me? I’m going to rebuild her into a perfect little slave, and you’ll never be thought of by her again.”

“Ambitious of you.” Elenus’s voice was oddly dry, none of the anxiety in it he’d been projecting earlier. “And probably premature, given that you’re about two minutes away from permanent brain damage right now.”

What was he talking abo—oh shit, the flare! Deysan struggled into his helmet, annoyed by the fumbling way it went on—who had designed this crap? “I think,” he said heavily once he had it on, “that your little ship will be able to protect me well enough from the flare. She’d better if she knows what’s good for her.”

“Hmm … she probably could,” Elenus agreed. “If you were inside of her. Which you’re not.”

“And if there were really a flare coming,” the other man added. “Which there isn’t. You’ve been flying around exposed to full radiation in substandard shielding for the past three minutes. And I’m betting you weren’t wearing a greenie suit for most of it, were you?”

“What?” This was … no, what the hell? “This is the Catalina!” he roared. “Stop trying your mind games, Elenus Desfontaines, they won’t work on the man who taught them to you!”

“This isn’t a game,” Elenus said coldly. Deysan’s former protégé sounded darkly serious, no trace of the flippant young man he’d once been in his voice. “And that’s not Catie. That’s Kieron’s ship, the Daring Do. It’s a pretty good little ship, way better shielded than most, and we did do a fabulous job retrofitting her to pass for Catie, but the truth is, you’ve been had.”

“What …” Deysan shook his head even though they couldn’t see it. “What? No. That’s … that’s not …” That’s impossible. He’s lying. “No, the flare, the emergency procedures, that’s—that’s why I was let out of cryo! That’s why—”

“I let you out of cryo,” Elenus purred. “I let you out and gave you a chance to react. I wanted to see what you would do with it. Whether you’d decide to take your medicine and face your charges, or whether you’d attempt to break out of here like a fool. And I have to say, you surpassed my wildest expectations with your efforts. Thank goodness Catie isn’t actually hearing any of the shit that’s coming out of your mouth.”

“But … she’s … the ship, she’s talking …”

“Oh, is she? Or is that me?” Deysan shuddered as Elenus’s voice reverberated all around him. “Me using her voice,” he said, and he was, and just hearing it gave Deysan a headache. And now his nose was itching … “You’ve been talking with me all along, old ‘friend.’ And now you’re dying.”

“No, I …” Deysan suddenly noticed the growing pool of red in the bottom of his helmet. His nose was bleeding, badly. And now his eyes were starting to feel scratchy as well, and his throat was irritated, like he needed to clear it. “I …”

“You can always come back,” the other man—Kieron, the fucking bastard—said. “Come back to the station, get treatment for your radiation poisoning, and be turned over to Ganian authorities with the understanding that everything you’ve said has been recorded, and that additional charges will be brought based on that. Or …”

“Or float away,” Elenus cooed. “Float away into the meteor field, and maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get smashed to smithereens before you asphyxiate on your own lymph fluid. Either way, I end up a very happy man.”