“Well, sure, I thought about it. See, the transport had no thrusters, and my boy could fly circles around her. Plus she shot most of her power away with that first shot.” 2-Bit looked grim. “But some ModPollies came out of Xarp right then. Patrol vessels – same trajectory – I think they was followin’ the personnel ship.”

Down growled, a deep and guttural sound. “Goddamn ModPol motherfuckers. They got no right comin’ anywhere near Terro.”

“So I tells my boy, come on back,” Captain 2-Bit continued. “But these boys are like dogs, right? He could smell blood, and he wanted to finish off that transport. But the transport, we armored the hell out of that sucker, right? He blasts it, but it’s strong, and after a minute or two those cops are getting closer. So he tries to peel off, but the ModPollies was on him with torpedoes.”

“Goddammit,” Down muttered. “Those ModPol wanna-be cops, they can’t even fight you in a straight-up dogfight. Fucking torpedoes.”

“Yeah.” 2-Bit looked down at his hat again for a few seconds, then looked up with a smile. “But get this, boss. After they waste the fighter, the ModPollies get too close to the transport and the auto-turret goes and starts poppin’ at them!”

“What? No shit!” Down’s face brightened ever so slightly. “What’d they do?”

“Well, they’s cops, right? They get shot at, they shoot right back. Torpedoed the sonova bitch. Smacks it right in the behind, the transport goes flyin’. We tracked it down to the surface of Terro. Cops got no jurisdiction there, so I guess they either figured the crew for dead or not worth goin’ after, cuz they Xarp out after that.”

“Goddamn ModPol motherfuckers,” Down muttered again.

“Yeah, so we went down there after a while. Checked out the wreckage, right? The transport, well, she’s taken a beating, and now she’s on the surface and no way to get her back up into orbit without a lift-ship. Not much worth salvaging, ’fraid.”

“Did you find any bodies?”

“Nope,” Captain 2-Bit said. “No bodies. The ship had its shocks stuck out the bottom, so they must’ve survived the landing. A bunch of stuff was looted out the ship. We took the guns and armor they left behind.”

“If they walked away from the wreck, they must have left a trail,” Dan said, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. He was standing next to Moses’ chair. “Did you track them?”

2-Bit was quiet. Down prodded him. “Did you track them, Captain?”

“No, boss.”

Down frowned. “You’re still in orbit around Terroneous, right, Captain?”

“Aye, boss.”

“Okay. Wait there. I’m sending Bashful Dan, Johnny Eyeball, and Dava to meet you. Now listen.” Down leaned in toward the vid-screen. “Dan is the best tracker we got, so you pay attention to his advice. And Johnny spent some time on that prison barge and got a good look at all the ModPollies that were on it. We know it was one of them that took the transport, so he might be able to recognize them if he sees ’em. But you gotta keep him sober, 2-Bit.” He paused. “You understand me? Keep Eyeball outta the bars and outta the bottle.”

“Right, boss.” The captain hesitated. “Do we really need Dava?”

“I want to make sure this gets done right,” Down said. “You got it, Captain?”

“Aye, boss.”

“Good.” Down closed the connection and turned to Bashful Dan. “Can you still track them?”

“No problem,” Dan said. “People don’t respect a trail these days. Space covers all tracks, they think. Those guys who crashed the transport, whoever they are, landed on Terroneous. No doubt they had to walk through tall grass, probably dropping ration wrappers the whole way. Probably went to the closest town, got themselves a hotel. Stuck out like sore thumbs, like tourists.”

“Dan,” Down interrupted. “If they slow you down – 2-Bit and Johnny E, I mean – you just ditch ’em. Don’t let the trail go cold.”

“Aye, boss. I’ll find ’em.” Dan was quiet, then asked, “Why are we taking Dava?”

“Because whoever these guys are, they’ve already killed a couple Wasters stealing that transport,” Dava said from behind him. He nearly jumped out of his waxy orange skin.

“Fuck me,” Dan coughed. “Do you have to do that?”

“And killed another Waster outside Terro,” she continued, ignoring the tracker’s question and pacing around the shorter man like he was soon-to-be dinner. “And not only that, you’ve got ModPol all over your asses on this one. Someone has to protect the li’l boys.”

“That’s right. Just remember,” Down said, waggling a finger at Dava. “I’d like at least one of them alive. I want to find out how they did it. You know how I get,” he said with a toothy smile. “We learn from our mistakes. We practiced that prison barge break-out scenario over and over, and didn’t anticipate that someone might get one of our ships out from under our noses. So if you can get one alive, do it. But if you can’t, then just waste ’em.”

“Mmm. Aye, boss,” the assassin said, with a long, lightly-curling smile.

“Go get prepped, Dan.”

“Yes, boss.” Dan nodded at Down and gave Dava a hesitant look, then tripped his way out of the comm room.

“He might be a good tracker, but he has zero situational awareness.”

“Dava,” Down said. “You should be nicer to them.”

“Sorry, Moses,” she said. He had a way of making her feel like an admonished schoolgirl at times.

“It’s okay. I just want you to get along.”

She frowned and turned away from him. “I know. But I work better alone.”

“No, you don’t,” he said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her to face him. “When I found you, you were alone.”

“Moses,” she murmured. She didn’t want to be reminded of those days.

He let go and laughed then, his inexplicable amusement jarring her. “Dava, Dava,” he said. “You’re like that ExpandoKnife you love so much. Constantly puffing up and then shrinking back away again.”

“You gave me the damn knife,” she said.

“I know. I’m starting to question whether it was all that good of an idea.”

She frowned at him. “You taught me to be an assassin. Can’t I just do that? Why do you have to bitch at me for not playing nice with the others?”

He sighed and gently shook his head. “You’re more than an assassin, Dava.”

“Right,” she mumbled. She wanted to make for the door, but she could feel his presence rooting her to the spot.

He reached up and stretched his arms, which practically touched the ceiling, then brought them back down. “Why did we go after the prison barge.”

It was a question, but it came out like a statement. She felt like a schoolgirl again, now being quizzed. “To rescue Johnny and 2-Bit,” she said, guessing he was testing her camaraderie.

“Why else.”

She thought about it. There wasn’t anything of value on the barge. They didn’t leave with anyone but some prisoners. “Fresh meat?”

He grinned at her widely. “Yes, that’s true too. 2-Bit did well, finding six quality cadets. Future Wasters.”

“Yeah, he did okay.” There would have been seven recruits, but she chose to leave one behind. She wanted to vent to Down about the racist asshole – because he would understand – but she didn’t want to revisit it. There was nothing to gain from it.

“Why else.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, not getting the game. “I don’t know. Sure as fuck wasn’t anything worth stealing.” She bit her lip in thought, then added, “I guess we got to fuck with ModPol a little.”

He nodded, his grin fading. He seemed to be inspecting her, searching her face for something deeper. Something that wasn’t there, because she didn’t know what he was looking for.

“ModPol,” he said. “They’re only half the problem. A massive industry based on security. Based on what should be a human right. Exploiting people that just want to live in peace. People who want peace so badly, they won’t invest in police or military. ModPol exploits them for having a dream.”