Alva was angry with me because she thought I was to blame for his death. I was angry in return because I feared she was right.

When the Trouble Dog docked at Camrose, she walked off the ship without a backward glance and I breathed a sigh of relief. She was still a part of my crew, and would be back aboard as soon as the ship had been refuelled. In the meantime, I wouldn’t register a disciplinary charge against her for insubordination and she’d have a chance to blow off steam, to vent her anger in the bars and hostelries of the station’s lower decks. She would drink and fight and, when she returned, would be calmer.

As a former marine, she had an ingrained respect for the chain of command. But that didn’t mean I had any right to expect her to respect me personally. In the House, respect had to be earned through deeds. As a commanding officer, you were always accountable for your actions, and if they were found to be unacceptable you would be reassigned or—in the most extreme cases—bounced from the House altogether. As hot-tempered as she might be, I sincerely doubted Clay’s dislike of me would ever erupt into outright mutiny. I doubted she would even file a report.

I watched her retreating back for a moment, and then turned to Nod, who was waiting on the ramp. One of its faces looked up at me with fingers splayed, like a sunflower turning its petals to the light.

“Where are you going?” I asked. Nod had a thick cargo harness strapped around its midsection.

“Much work. Need parts. Also supplies.”

“We can order anything you need.”

Another face curled around to peer at me. “Need special things also.” Its shoulders flexed and rippled. “Also company.”

“Other Druff?”

“Always others on other ships. Always some in port.”

“Friends?” The idea of Nod socialising seemed somehow incongruous. Its habits aboard ship were so solitary and self-contained it had never occurred to me it might need to be around anyone, even other members of its own species.

“All blown from same World Tree.” It gave an approximation of a human shrug. “All welcome.”

The fingers rippled around the edges of both of its raised faces. The four on the floor drummed their tips against the deck. I had no idea what the gesture meant, if anything. It could have been impatience or excitement, or maybe even a mixture of both.