In the late afternoon, just before the day shifts of Kalviris Prime finished, the Velvet Spire was quiet. Within hours, night would fall and the glowing spiral heart of the bar would become the main source of light as customers poured in for revelry and distraction. Now, with the sun too low in the sky to peek between the towers but still fat and powerful enough for golden light to leak even down here, Nallera could sit at the bar with only day-drinkers for company.

Until Q’ira came downstairs and slid onto the stool beside her. ‘They do coffee here?’ she said, nose wrinkled.

‘I asked. Had to convince them to open whole new resequencer programs they’d never touched,’ Nallera said wryly, taking a swig of the cheap black sludge she’d been served. It was doing its job, at least.

‘Wow. I worked here for years. Never knew those things could do that.’ Q’ira shifted her weight. ‘Cassidy just had a call in. Your ship’s an hour out.’

‘Thank God,’ Nallera groaned, then winced. ‘Sorry. No disrespect meant to this place.’

‘I mean, this place is trying to kill me.’

‘And hey, once we catch up with this thing, we can prove it killed Torrad-Var. Then you won’t be hunted here. Then you can come back home.’ Nallera hadn’t been sure how to handle the Orion since she’d joined the team. Masks and trickery weren’t her forte; she preferred to take people as she found them and left the rest to people like Rosewood and Cassidy. It was easier, she thought – she hoped – since Q’ira had ended up with her back to the wall. That was usually when people showed who they were.

‘Maybe.’ Q’ira looked up at the bartender, a husky Andorian male. ‘Hey, Therik, can I get a light beer?’ She was silent until she had the bottle in her hand, fidgeting with the label. ‘Not so sure this place is home any more. Any of it.’

‘That’s okay. Things change. You can make new homes. I’ve done it.’

‘With Starfleet?’ Q’ira sounded dubious, aware this wasn’t a solution available to her.

Nallera tilted her head this way and that as she considered. ‘With the people I’ve met. They’re what make homes.’

Another pause. Q’ira swigged her beer. ‘I’m sorry about Tiran. She was – I don’t know. Maybe not nice. But professional. I appreciated that.’

‘Thanks.’ Nallera stared into her mug for a moment. ‘It wasn’t just professionalism. She was fair. With everyone. Maybe she was harsh sometimes, and she wasn’t exactly warm and fluffy, but she made her expectations clear, and they were never unreasonable, and if you were fine by her, you were fine. She didn’t change up on you day by day, or treat you differently to anyone else if you did your best.’

Q’ira gave a gentle scoff. ‘That’s underrated.’

‘Right? You know how many people I’ve known who’ve pinkie-sworn they were good guys, my friends, who got weird the next day?’ This was still more than Nallera had really wanted to say. She’d come down because the attic room was getting musty, and days of living on top of the rest of the Rooks was starting to feel claustrophobic. Sitting in a bar made her feel more normal, but that was apparently extending to being more babbly to someone she didn’t fully trust. ‘So you’re with us for the next haul.’

‘Until we get to the bottom of this or Cassidy gets sick of me.’

‘In which case…’ Nallera drained her coffee and set it on the bar before drawing a sharp, apprehensive breath. ‘Don’t jerk Aryn around.’

Q’ira didn’t exactly flinch at that, but even Nallera could see the eyelash-fluttering reaction of surprise. ‘I don’t…’

‘He’s a good guy. A bit naive, a bit egotistical – he’d never say it, but he does think he’s smarter than everyone else. So he thinks he can study his way through every problem, and maybe that includes you.’ Nallera put an elbow on the bar as she shifted to face her. ‘I don’t know if he’s sweet on you or what, but he’s had your back. Don’t take advantage of him.’

Now Q’ira’s expression was settling – a little haughty, a little detached. Nallera couldn’t see what was going on under it, but she at least knew deflector shields were being raised. ‘He’s the one who could get me left behind if he said the word. What makes you think I got power over him?’

‘I mean, he won’t do that to you.’

‘Says you –’

‘Hey, I’m not here saying we’ve got it worse than you or anything!’ Nallera winced, finding herself flustered. ‘I’m not trying to get at you. I’m just saying. You could hurt him. So, like. Don’t.’

The simplicity of the argument seemed to take Q’ira aback. She shifted her weight on the stool. ‘I’m not trying to,’ she said after a beat, sullen.

‘Good.’

They fidgeted for a moment, quiet, until Q’ira said, ‘So you’re good friends.’

‘You see how much he does for the team,’ said Nallera. ‘Lives and breathes the job. We’d be up shit creek without him. Someone’s got to watch his back when it comes to his weak spots. Feelings are his weak spot. So, yeah. I tease him, but he’s good company, he’s hella loyal, and I look out for him.’

Q’ira brushed a lock of pale green hair behind an ear. ‘He’s kind,’ she said after a beat. ‘I’m not used to that.’

‘Yeah, it’s rare,’ Nallera sighed.

There was a rustling from the back of the bar, then the weathered figure of Zayna emerged through a door. The worn, middle-aged woman looked guarded as she saw them. ‘Q’ira. Thought you’d do me the decency of hiding upstairs.’

Q’ira dropped her head. ‘I just came down to drop a message.’

Nallera sat up, frowning. ‘It’s not your problem if someone spots us in here. We’re the ones managing our profile.’

Zayna folded her arms across her chest. ‘It’s my problem if the Syndicate kick in the door when someone sells you guys out because you were stupid enough to wander around in broad daylight.’

‘We’re sitting in the bar! Indoors! There are no windows!’

‘It’s okay.’ Q’ira hopped to her feet. ‘I’ll go -’

‘No, hang on, she saw me down here with a coffee earlier and didn’t give a damn.’ Nallera reached out to grab Q’ira’s elbow, stopping her, and glared at Zayna. ‘Cassidy’s paying you, ain’t he?’

Zayna pursed her lips. ‘He’s paid half.’

‘Do you reckon he won’t pay the rest? You’ll find out in about an hour when our ship’s in orbit and he can make some calls.’ Nallera stood. ‘If this is about the money, you got nothing to be pissed about.’

‘I didn’t say -’

‘And if it’s personal, then this girl’s about to take off and maybe never come back. So you could either keep your mouth shut and wait an hour and be free forever, or…’ Nallera worked her jaw, righteous indignation faded as she realised how much she’d furiously blundered into someone else’s issues. ‘Or maybe do something else with that time.’

In the silent that followed, Q’ira gently but firmly pulled her arm back. ‘It’s fine,’ she said after a moment. ‘Zayna was good for taking us in. I don’t need to be difficult.’

At that, Zayna rolled her eyes, and irritation surged in Nallera’s chest until she said, ‘You should be.’ At their surprised looks, she huffed. ‘You always tried to get somewhere by cosying up to someone or other. Maybe it worked – you got out – but it made you… I don’t know. Pliable. It’d do you good to be difficult sometimes.’

‘I don’t…’ Q’ira looked away. ‘That’s a great way to get left behind.’

‘Not if you earn your place. Make yourself essential. Don’t fluff people’s egos. Make it so they can’t ignore you.’

‘She’s doing that,’ Nallera blurted. ‘I mean, in a subtle, sneaky, smiley way. But she’s been essential. We’d be nowhere without her. Maybe dead.’

Zayna nodded, slouching against the bar with an air of indolence that Nallera only suspected was affected because she’d been so open. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have seen through the feigned, protective indifference. ‘I was pissed when you came back because I thought you’d found a new useless man to attach you to, who’d suck you dry, and now you were making his problems my problems. I don’t know about Starfleet shit…’ Here Nallera got a dubious look that was definitely sincere. ‘But whatever this is, it sounds like a chance at something that isn’t just being some idiot’s accessory. You were always better than that.’

Q’ira shifted her feet. ‘Not sure about that.’

‘Everyone’s better than that,’ Nallera blurted.

‘That’s cute, Starfleet,’ Zayna drawled. ‘Stupid, but cute. But maybe keep telling this girl it, and she’ll believe it, instead of thinking that she only gets anywhere ‘cos of that pretty face.’

‘And tits,’ Q’ira said quickly. ‘Those help.’

Zayna snorted and nodded. ‘Your big fella’s got us squared,’ she said after a beat. ‘Don’t worry about that. You can come back here. Just… don’t. Go to other places. Better places.’

‘I’d say this lot could help me with that,’ said Q’ira, ‘but they definitely kill people for Starfleet.’

‘Bad people!’ Nallera protested. ‘But in between we go to better places.’

In her pocket, her comm gave a chirrup, and she pulled it out to put it to her ear. ‘Chief? Did the girl even get you?’ Cassidy’s voice squeaked through. ‘Big bird’s here. Let’s get going.’

‘Better places,’ Zayna echoed, looking firmly at Nallera. ‘Even if it’s just for a little bit.’

Nallera nodded. Then paused. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘About that. And where we’re going next…’