Harbinger

When the door finally slid open, he didn’t get quite the greeting he expected. Desai was wrapped in a pale blue bathrobe and toweling her short, dark hair. She looked up at him with a befuddled expression and resorted to their public formality. “Commodore?”

“I always thought that was just a saying,” he said, pointing at her wet hair. “ ‘Not tonight, I’m washing my hair.’ ”

“I haven’t used that one on you yet,” she said. “I’m saving it for a special occasion.”

“I see.” He peeked over her shoulder into her dim quarters. “Am I early?”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “For what?”

He heard footsteps getting nearer. Edging forward, he said, “Mind if I come in?”

She halted his progress with a palm against his chest. “What are you doing here, Commodore?”

Keenly aware of whoever was approaching, he lowered his voice. “Isn’t it your turn to make di

That seemed to amuse Desai. “I don’t think so.”

Gesturing toward the sound of looming footfalls, he said with naked urgency, “Rana, please.” Rolling her eyes, she stepped aside and waved him in. He made it through the door, which closed before the passerby reached the corner. “Is this some lawyer technicality because we didn’t get to eat last time? Because I ought to get credit for making that di

Desai walked back toward her bathroom. “It’s not like that,” she said. “It’s much simpler, actually.”

“Really?” Reyes never ceased to be amazed by her ability to confuse him then make him feel like it was his own fault by telling him that her convoluted mind games were “simple.”

She continued her end of the conversation from the bathroom, her voice pitched upward with its increased volume. “Legal ethics, Commodore. I presume you’ve heard of them?”

Mentally jumping ahead three steps in the conversation, Reyes growled with frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You can’t see me socially because of the damned inquiry?”

“You’re quick, sir. I like that in a witness.”

“This isn’t fu

“You’re right,” she said. “It’s not. Technically, this is an ex parte discussion. It would probably be best if you left.”

He stood, stu

“Great jumpin’ jehoshaphat, you’re serious.”

Desai emerged from the bathroom clad in her bright gold miniskirt uniform. Striking a pose with one hand planted on the curve of her hip, she fixed him with a stare that under any other circumstances he would have described as being of the come-hither variety. She smirked. “Don’t let the hemline fool you, sir. I’m all business. Now, get out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, an eye-rolling grimace conveying his profound disappointment in this unexpected change of plans. She walked behind him to the door. Probably to make sure I really leave, he mused. The door hissed open. He paused on the threshold and turned to face her one more time. “Y’know, you’re cute when you’re ethical.”

With her fingertips against his chest, she gave him a playful nudge past the doorjamb. “Good night, sir.” She backed away from the door, which closed. Though Reyes knew he was probably only imagining it, he was almost certain he heard her laughing on the other side. Mustering his pride, he ambled away to see if Fisher, Ca

“Vanguard Control/Rocinante. Requesting departure clearance, bay ninety-two.”

The reply of the flight-control officer, or FCO, was distorted by the thrice-rewired speaker on Qui

“Acknowledged, Vanguard. Transmitting flight plan.”

Outside in the hangar bay, the door to the corridor opened. Chief Ivan Vumelko, the same grouchy customs inspector who had knocked Qui

Damn. Qui

“Stow it, Qui

“Hardware,” Qui

“That’s nice, shut up.” Vumelko pointed at one of the crates and looked at the two guards. “Open it.”

Play it cool. There was always a chance that Vumelko would be repulsed by the smell of oiled machine parts and, in a sudden and uncharacteristic moment of inattention, forget to rescan the crate’s contents once the sensor-scrambling box was open. The chemical odor of silicate lubricant and freshly cut metal filled the cargo hold as the lid came free. Vumelko pointed his tricorder into the box and ran a standard molecular scan.

I’m dead.

Turning off the tricorder, Vumelko motioned to the two guards. “Close it up.” He turned toward Qui

He handed it back to Qui

Despite being numb with shock and weak with adrenaline trembles, Qui

“Control/Rocinante. Acknowledged.” With a deep hum of magnetic gears, the hangar-bay door crept upward, revealing a rectangular patch of nebula-clouded starfield. The stars drifted slowly from left to right in the frame of the hangar entrance, owing to the slow rotation of the starbase itself.

Rocinante’s fusion drive turned over with a satisfying roar that sent a shudder through the deck and up Qui

Throttling the small ship forward, he refused to believe he had actually made it past a customs check with a cargo hold full of weapons. It began to sink in only after he had safely warped away. But even as he gave belated thanks to T’Pry

15

Kirk watched the main viewer, mesmerized by the enormous chunks of gray debris tumbling erratically in orbit over Ravanar IV. Leslie swiveled his chair away from the helm. “This is as close as we can get for now, sir. Any closer and we risk a collision.”