"All right," Mashona allowed, "I'll give you that one. Gunny, what about demolition charges?"

Werst snorted. "They aren't exactly up close and personal."

"They are if you drop them down someone's pants."

"All right," he grinned, "I'll give you that one."

"We're not taking charges in because we'll lose them," Torin pointed out. "If I were running a refuge for people who live off violent crime, I'd make damned sure to control the amount of damage they could do. I'd be fine with them beating the shit out of each other, blades even, but no one wanders around with the ability to damage the station."

Ressk tapped his head. "Got my ability right here."

"I'm betting he's got his system protected against every attack he can think of. Of course," she added before Ressk could respond, "I'm also betting you can think circles around him."

"He's got brains," Ressk allowed. "Government records say this station doesn't exist. But living on a station that doesn't exist means he's been out of the data stream for a while." He patted his slate. "I can guarantee I have a few tricks he's never seen."

Ressk was a combination of tech support and a stealth weapon. She trusted Mashona and Werst to have her back.

Werst was right, and up close and personal meant hands and feet and head. Torin was bringing in a knife in her boot sheath, fourteen years in the Corps trained to fight a war that had turned out to be a lie, and the certain knowledge she wasn't leaving this station without Craig Ryder.

"Two things," she said as the docking clamps clanged against the ship. "One, expect some of the people we'll meet to have spent time either in the Navy or the Corps. They'll be the ones who joined for the sanctioned violence and won't have lasted more than one contract, if that, but they'll have had some training. Take that into account when you engage." Not if; when. "Second, sometimes the salvage operators find weapons."

"You mean small arms? You think they ever keep them?" Mashona wondered, left elbow hooked over her right arm as she stretched out her shoulders.

"Doesn't matter what they do." Torin's snort dismissed every salvage operator in known space but one.

"So you're saying there may be weapons on this station," Werst translated. "In the hands of people who think they know how to use them."

"Probably in the hands of the so-called authorities." If there was no honor among thieves, then force or the threat of force would be needed to ensure compliance with even the minimal rules thieves and murderers were willing to live by.

"So if we need to arm up, we know where to go."

Torin glanced over at Mashona, who shrugged.

Werst snickered. "Okay, not where you were going with that, Gunny, but still a valid observation."

The telltales showed that the ship had been secured to the docking arm, but the station hadn't released control of the air lock. "Now," she said, hands locked behind her back to keep from slapping down the override, "we wait for Big Bill."

"Gunny, if the man in charge is coming out to greet us, we could take him. Exchange him for Craig."

"You think he's going to be that easy to take?"

"I think we shouldn't dismiss the possibility out of hand."

She had a point. "What again?"

"Just started, Cap." It sounded as though Huirre had moved as far away from the watery, pale yellow puddle as possible. "One minute he was fine, the next puke city."

"How much of the seal have you got left to go through?"

"One level, Captain." Nadayki sounded smug. "But I don't need him anymore. It'll take longer without him, but with the base he's laid, I can work out the remaining pattern on my own."

"You're sure?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Because if you're not, you'll…"

Craig missed the rest of Cho's warning as he coughed out a mouthful of bile, his skull attempting to collapse in on itself. When the ringing in his ears cleared enough for him to hear, Nadayki was saying, "… plus he was breathing hard."

"Hyperventilating?"

"I guess."

Plus? Had Nadayki spotted the stomach clenching and realized he'd made himself sick? Was the little shit dobbing him out?

He could hear Cho breathing heavily through his nose, hear the scrape of his thumb through the stubble on the edge of his jaw. Hell, he could practically hear that stubble growing. Every little sound set off another spike of pain. This was a ripping new side effect he sure as shit hoped didn't last long.

"Take him to Doc," the captain growled at last.

Craig gave thanks he wasn't a screamer.

"Thought there was nothing Doc could do about this, Captain?"

"About this, no."

In Craig's experience, enigmatic was never good. He fell away from the puddle when Huirre kicked at his legs, taking the impact on his shoulder to keep his weight off the borrowed slate he'd instinctively snapped onto his belt as he dropped to his knees.

A smart man would have puked on the seal; that would have gained Torin some time. "Welcome to Vrijheid Station, Gunnery Sergeant Kerr. Please remove all weapons before entering your air lock. In the interest of not fatally disrupting business, we prefer our violence to remain at the hand-to-hand-to-foot-to-teeth level."

Torin bent and pulled the knife from her boot sheath. "You heard the man."

"But, Gunny…"

"He's clearly got more control over this place than I thought, but everything I said about weapons relates to hand-to-hand. Some of them will be trained, but you're better."

"I'm better," Werst muttered. Ressk elbowed him. Hard.

"Just stay away from anyone who works directly for Big Bill," she reminded them, checking that Presit's camera was in place as the telltales went green.

Big Bill was actually big. About a meter nine, Craig's height, and heavier. Fat over muscle, considering the way he carried his bulk. In spite of the name, that hadn't been a given; Torin had served with a man universally known as One Ball for no physical reason. Big Bill had thick brown hair combed back off a high forehead, gold-flecked brown eyes, and he smiled like a Krai.

The two Krai flanking him-also smiling-came as bit of a surprise. Not many people used the Krai as muscle-and Torin had no doubt that's what these two were. It explained the hand-to-hand-to-foot-to-teeth comment. Odds were the rules that governed Krai eating habits in most of known space weren't in effect here, and it was hard to win a fight with a Krai when they literally took bites out of their opponents.

Hard. But not impossible.

Given their size and the mottling on their scalps, she'd bet they were both male.

"Well, it really is Gunnery Sergeant Torin Kerr. I hate to call any of my people liars, but…"

Torin knew he'd examined the recording of the conversation. Knew that there'd been a recording of the conversation. Big Bill didn't seem like the type who'd appreciate secondhand news.

"… but Alamber, the little shit, is a chronic liar so you'll forgive me for doubting him." Big Bill beamed a smile just past Torin's shoulders. "And Corporals Mashona, Ressk, and Werst. I'm pleased to see you've recovered from your stay on the prison planet."

Confirmation that he'd seen the vids.

"And here you are. Running away from your old lives." He spread his arms. "Disillusioned by discovering that rather than fighting an honorable war against an implacable foe, you were being screwed over by a collective of plastic aliens. Is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

He reminded Torin of Harnett, the staff sergeant who'd called himself colonel and taken over one of the pods in the prison, building his power base with the lives of other Marines. Torin had no doubt that Big Bill's power base had also been built with death. With many more than the three deaths she personally knew of. She'd killed eight of Harnett's thugs and finished the day by snapping his neck and, now, with this man implicit in Craig's abduction, she fought to keep that memory from showing on her face. No problem if Big Bill thought her threatening, but for this to work, he couldn't consider her a personal threat.