Page 46 of Shielded in the Shadows

“Deactivating shadow mode,” Siber said as the interior lights and control panels returned to standard illumination levels. “Ship’s registration now broadcasting as CS Bandit’s Blade. We will be entering shipping lane FX-8934-Hira soon. ETA to Trakhan is 1610 hours.”

“Thank you, Siber,” Keela said, sipping her coffee. It was her third mug since the midday meal, and the second since we’d finished our daily sparring match. Today’s session had been abbreviated to give us time to clean up and dress prior to our arrival at Trakhan.

She glanced at me. “Do you need to contact your friend before we arrive?”

“Yes.” I raised my bare arm where my wristcomm used to be. “I’ll either need access to ship’s communications or another device capable of reaching the station.”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “All right. Siber, grant Jarrix access to the ship’s comms.”

“Yes, Captain Wren.”

A panel lit up on the controls in front of my seat. I tapped in the contact information for Byx’s dock and sent a request for audio comms.

After a lengthy wait, a familiar female voice responded. “CS Bandit’s Blade, this is Trakhan Bay 2406. We are currently full and not available for docking.”

“I have a standing invitation,” I said, which was a coded phrase Byx and I had established long ago.

There was a brief pause. Byx’s mate Felina was probably very surprised to hear my voice. “For which platform?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“Platform nine,” I replied, completing the code. “This is Garon, formerly of the Fury, now traveling aboard the Bandit.”

“Very well, you are cleared. Welcome back, Garon.”

“I’m glad to be back,” I said. “I need to speak to the deckmaster.”

“Wait, please.”

I muted the comm while we waited.

“Garon?” Keela asked, brows raised.

“Code name,” I explained. “We don’t use our true names over comms.”

“Ah.” Her fingers were toying with the dagger on her thigh as she eyed the star field in front of the ship. I’d noticed that habit a few times during our journey, most recently last night when the shields went out of alignment and it took Siber nearly ten minutes to diagnose and resolve the problem.

Finally, a familiar burbling voice spoke. “Garon, you’ve been a ghost.”

I unmuted the comm. “And you’re a greedy bastard, but for some reason, your mate must still love you.”

The laugh that came through the comms sounded like bubbles rising through a thick, viscous fluid. Keela wrinkled her nose adorably.

“That I am, and that she does,” Byx said with obvious satisfaction. “I’m the luckiest sod on the Outer Rim. You coming in for a visit, old friend?”

“I am. The ship I’m on needs a thorough wash, inside and out. And I’m in the market for fine Gandarian cloth. The best you’ve got.”

Wash was code for checking for trackers, and fine cloth meant dangerous-to-get intel.

“I can do the wash. The cloth might be tricky.” Byx made a rough sound that might have been a cough or might have been a word in his native language. “Set your approach for Bay 2406, Bandit’s Blade. We’ll take over your guidance system and bring you in from five hundred meters.”

“Understood. See you on the ground, Deckmaster.”

When the comm ended, Keela eyed me. “This ship breaks weapons lockdown protocols and remote guidance systems.”

“If we need to break them to get away from the outpost, break them,” I said firmly. “You and this ship are my priorities. Byx will understand. He melted down a reactor and destroyed an orbital station for his mate, Felina.”

Her brows shot up. “Now that’s a story I think I want to hear.”

“Buy him a bottle of Bacorian wine and he’ll tell it,” I said. “Buy him two and he’ll reenact it.”