My smile dies as we step into the breaker room, and I realize we’re not alone. Sitting in one corner, comm in his hand, is none other than Captain Murdock. Orion tenses in front of me, and my skin crawls. I’ve rarely come face-to-face with my mother’s old boss and our longtime enemy, as he prefers to avoid doing his own dirty work. He’s not a big man, but there’s something frightening in his dark eyes and the smile that stretches across his grizzled, olive-skinned face as he sees us. I remember him smiling like that when he dragged Corvus back to Momma, remember the way Drom screamed when she almost lost her arm.

Swallowing back fear, I remind myself that I have the advantage here, and press my blaster into the back of Orion’s neck.

“Put down the comm,” I say, “or I’ll—”

“Intruder in the breaker room,” Murdock says into his comm before I finish speaking. I curse under my breath. Calling my bluff, or does he just not care? Either way, we’re about to have company. Even if I run for Fortuna now, I’ll never make it. The one way out is to pull off my initial plan. But this room is a mess of panels and wiring, handwritten notes stuck all over the walls. I have no idea which one controls the lights.

“I will shoot him,” I say, hoping I sound tougher than I feel. “Tell me which one is the light switch.”

“Headed out to Titan, huh?” Murdock asks, leaning back in his chair. I slowly move Orion through the room, glancing around at the various notes in the hope I’ll see something useful. “Picking up that brother of yours?”

“Aw, how kind of you to ask,” I say, panic rising as I see nothing helpful. “Afraid it’s none of your business, though.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Is that so?”

My eyes slide to him and his stupid smile, unsure what that means. But of course, he’s only trying to distract me. I jam the barrel of my blaster against the side of Orion’s head hard enough that he lets out a gasp.

“You want me to shoot him? Is that it? Tell me!”

“Come on,” Orion pleads, either genuinely frightened or doing a damn good job of pretending. I’m not sure which of us he’s talking to. But Murdock raises a blaster of his own, casually taking aim at his adopted son.

Shit. Shit. Would he really shoot Orion? Footsteps approaching in the hall outside mean I’m about to be screwed either way. I frantically glance around the room, and finally, my eyes snag on a panel behind the captain’s head. Main deck lights, a note next to it reads in sloppy handwriting. And then, under it: Bottom deck lights. Of course it can’t be simple.