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a mutineer and he intended to assert himself.

Harper was sitting on her bunk, and looked up expectantly. According to Naval regulations, he was well within his rights to march her to the nearest airlock and push her out. He wondered if she thought that was his reason for calling on her. That she remained seated pushed on his anger button.

‘I believe it’s still the practice for sailors to stand to attention when a senior officer enters the room,’ Samson said, doing his best to remain calm.

‘Am I still a sailor?’ she said.

‘Until someone says otherwise,’ Samson said.

She stood and saluted. Samson returned the gesture, and hoped it was an indication that she would be cooperative.

‘At ease.’ He sat on the ledge that served as a shelf beneath the cabin’s screen, a panel that looked like it hadn’t worked in a very long time. ‘We’ve safely traversed the Nexus and are back in Capsilan,’ Samson said.

‘Corporal Féng told me when they were bringing me food,’ she said. ‘Looks like you were right.’

‘Yes, I was,’ he said. ‘We’ve made it to the depot, safe and intact.’

‘You must be pleased,’ she said.

He didn’t detect any vitriol in her tone—if anything she sounded sad, but he couldn’t be sure if it was because he had succeeded, or at the fact that she had made the wrong choice and ruined herself for nothing.

‘I’m happy I’ve managed to bring everyone back safely, but unfortunately there’s still one obstacle we need to deal with. For that, I’m going to need your help.’

Her brow furrowed for a moment. ‘I’ll do whatever you need, sir.’

Samson raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy. Perhaps she thought she still had a chance at saving her skin? At the very least, he had expected her to try and bargain with him upfront in that regard. Whatever her plan was—whether it was to endear herself to him, as her co-mutineers seemed to be doing, or if she had something else in mind—so long as he got what he needed out of her, Samson didn’t give a damn. He would never trust her again, and would remain wary of a knife in the back—literally—but he needed the skills she possessed, and for that he was willing to make a bargain with the devil.

He explained the problem and tried to gauge her reaction. It was hard to tell, but she didn’t seem to think the situation was fatal.

‘I can encode a distress algorithm that will let us dock,’ she said. ‘After that we can confirm our identity with biometric scans in the depot’s airlock, which will give us full access to the facility.’

‘Good,’ Samson said, trying not to show how relieved he was. To come this far and fail because of their own security systems would have been a bitter pill to swallow.

‘There’s only one problem,’ Harper said.

Samson grimaced.

‘The Bounty’s communications system won’t be able to process the algorithm. It takes some pretty sophisticated processing, which most small vessels won’t have.’

‘Is there anything we can do about that?’ Samson said.

‘Maybe. But not on the ship. We’ll have to go down to Holmwood and see if we can scrounge up the parts we need to boost our unit. Even better if we can find a high-end communications processor that we can install, but I wouldn’t expect that all the way out here. Still, you never know, and they should have something to help.’

Samson considered his options. ‘If you give me your word that you’ll conduct yourself properly, I’ll release you from custody and we can all get going with this.’

‘You did what you said you were going to do,’ Harper said. ‘So will I.’

‘It should go without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway,’ Samson said. ‘If I so much as suspect you’re falling out of line, I’ll have Sergeant Price shoot you without warning. If he’s not around, I’ll do it myself. Without hesitation.’

She nodded. ‘I understand, sir.’

‘What can we expect in Holmwood landing?’ Samson said, gently rocking against the springs in the master’s chair on the bridge. The town’s reputation had seemed exciting, but faced with the prospect of having to go down there out of necessity, it was considerably less so.

‘I’ve only been down to the surface a couple of times,’ Price said, ‘and always with enough force that no one was going to bother us. We don’t have that luxury now, and most people came out to the Frontier to get away from the likes of us.’

‘So we’re likely to encounter hostility?’ Samson said.

‘It’s a possibility,’ Price said. ‘I know me and my mates used to love giving the Navy boys and girls a riling whenever they landed on my home planet.’

‘You’re from somewhere like Holmwood?’

Price nodded, a smile on his face. ‘Yes, sir. A little bigger, but not much different. The Navy were always fair game, until a squad of Marines landed with them one time and kicked the snot out of us. It was love at first punch. I enlisted a week later. The old place is a long way from the Frontier now. Positively civilised last time I went back on leave.’

Samson laughed. ‘And here you are now, poacher turned gamekeeper.’

‘You could put it like that, sir,’ Price said.

‘Still, I’m glad to have you on my side,’ Samson said. ‘But there’s no need to announce ourselves. We’re flying an old junker, not a naval pinnace. There’s nothing to give us away as Navy if we go down in civvies. We can get in and out fast, without raising any attention.’

‘That could work,’ Price said, ‘although the same problems are there. New faces in a rough town always attract attention. We won’t be signposted as much, but wearing civvies might not be enough to keep us out of trouble.’

‘That’s what you and your people are for,’ Samson said. ‘I’m sure if you dish out a few bloody noses, the rest will think twice about bothering us. Our survival is important, but

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