The parts dealers were concentrated in the station's lower levels, where the artificial gravity was strongest. I moved through a maze of corridors that appeared to have been designed by someone with a grudge against logical navigation, my mind split between the technical requirements of our mission and the constant awareness of Tamsin somewhere in this labyrinth.
Every face in the crowd was a potential threat to her. Every shadow could hide someone with a grudge, a bounty, or simply the kind of casual cruelty that places like this bred.
The dealer, Korvax, was a human who'd clearly been living on the station too long. His augmented eyes glowed with thesickly light of cheap cybernetics, and his smile revealed teeth that had been replaced with metal implants.
"Looking for anything specific?" he asked, gesturing to his collection of salvaged components.
"Sensor masking equipment. Something that can fool military-grade scanners."
His smile widened. "Ah, a professional. I have just the thing."
The device he produced was a signal processor that could overlay false readings on any sensor array. Expensive, but exactly what we needed to get past The Maw's outer defenses.
"And I'll need targeting enhancers," I continued. "Personal weapons, close quarters."
This time his expression grew more cautious. "Planning something ambitious?"
"Planning to survive it."
He laughed, but the sound carried nervous edges. "Fair enough. Give me a few minutes."
While he worked, I let my mind drift. The Maw would be defended by people who understood violence. Getting in would require finesse. Getting out alive would require overwhelming force.
But underneath the planning, another thought nagged at me. Tamsin moved through the station's chaos as if it were a second home. She belonged here in a way that I didn't, understood the unwritten rules that governed places like this. It stirred something in me—not jealousy, exactly, but a recognition that she'd survived things I could only imagine. Years of indentured servitude, of being passed between ships like cargo, of learning to find value in herself when everyone around her treated her as disposable.
The dealer returned with my purchases, and I paid without haggling. The equipment was good, military surplus that would give us an edge.
"One more thing," I said. "I need information about Kythara Syndicate operations. Recent shipping patterns, security protocols, anything useful."
His expression grew significantly more expensive. "That kind of information costs extra."
I transferred additional credits, watching his demeanor shift from caution to greedy cooperation.
"The Syndicate has been moving more product than usual," he said, glancing around. "Something big coming up, from what I hear. Kelloch's been calling in favors, consolidating resources."
"What kind of resources?"
"Security. Combat specialists. The kind of people you hire when you're expecting trouble." He leaned closer. "Word is, someone's been asking questions about The Maw. Making people nervous."
The information was troubling but not unexpected. If Tamsin had been gathering intelligence for years, some of her inquiries would have filtered back to Kelloch. The question was whether he considered the threat serious enough to alter his protocols.
"Anything else?"
"Just rumors. But they say Kelloch's got something special in his vault these days. Something that's got the Conclave interested."
I completed my business just as the lockdown alarms began to blare. I made my way back to the docking bay through a different, more secure route, the new intel heavy in my thoughts.
When I reached our bay, theWandering Star's airlock cycled open before I even reached the ramp. Tamsin stood there, her expression a mixture of relief and anxiety. The sight of her, safe and waiting, eased a tension in my chest I hadn't realized I was carrying.
"Close call," I said as I stepped aboard, gesturing back toward the station. "They're locking the lower levels down tight."
"I saw the security alerts." Her eyes scanned the gear I was carrying. "You got it?"
"And some troubling intel." I told her what I'd learned about Kelloch's increased security and the Conclave's interest.
She considered the information as we sealed the airlock and began departure procedures. "It doesn't change the plan," she said finally. "It just raises the stakes. If anything, it confirms we're on the right track."
The next phase of our plan was the most dangerous. I looked over at Tamsin as she plotted our course, her hands steady on the controls. We had what we needed. We were ready.
