The first time Leo had ever made a jump, he’d been holding his father’s hand. All three of them threw up. Leo. Dad. Gareth. A Fender family chuck-a-thon. Eventually his father and brother got used to it—the side effects of hyperspace travel. Leo, not so much.

With the jolt and lurch, the Icarus reentered the void of space, and Leo found himself staring at the red disk of an unfamiliar planet. One blazing star could be seen lurking behind it, the center of whatever system they had jumped to.

“Kat, run a scan for nearby vessels,” Baz ordered.

“Where are we?” Leo asked.

“SS-eight-five point four thirty-eight in the Aykarian catalog. More affectionately known as the Mirabar system. A cluster of planets renowned in this part of the galaxy for their gorgeous and exotic topography and rich biodiversity,” Baz said. “At least that’s what the brochures will tell you. It’s a prime destination for planet hoppers. You are almost guaranteed to find at least one ship full of rich, oblivious space tourists floating out here on their yachts, eating and drinking themselves into a stupor.”

“Or more than one,” Kat said, pointing to a constellation of blips on the radar. “Got a prime candidate here. C-class cruiser. Not too big. Looks like a Darkashian pleasure barge. Standard shields. Nominal weapon systems. She’s a baby gazelle.” Kat grinned, a little mischievously.

Easy prey, Leo translated for himself.

“We have a winner,” Baz said. “Jam their coms. How many black widows do we have left?”

“Two.”

“Let’s make it one. Hook this fish before it can swim away.”

Leo suddenly felt uneasy as the realization of what was happening dawned on him. “Wait, you’re attacking them?”

Baz turned and gave Leo a look that said, Um . . . pirate, remember?

“We’re hitting the ship with an ion torpedo that will temporarily disable its systems so it can’t jump away or try to outrun us,” Kat explained. “Then we board it, relieve it of any ventasium it has, and jump away before any local authorities find out what’s going on and cause trouble.”

“And death to those who dare to stand in our way!” Skits said in her mechanical chirp. So that was the kind of mood she was in. Leo frowned.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Baz said. “She’s just being dramatic. If we do this right nobody gets hurt.”

“And if you do it wrong?” Leo asked.

“Then we’re usually the ones that get hurt,” Kat said.

Black could obviously see the unease still in Leo’s eyes. “Look. Your old man needs you to deliver that datachip to Zirkus Crayt, yeah? And, sucker that I am, I promised I would help. But the Icarus is running on fumes. We need fuel. And it’s not like we can pull up to the next Coalition depot for a top-off—not unless we want our heads in a noose. So unless you’ve got a hunk of V burning a hole in your pocket . . .”