Leo shook his head. He knew Baz was right. He just didn’t like it.

“All righty then,” Baz said. “Kat—cue the attack music. Let’s rock and roll.”

Suddenly the cockpit was filled with electric guitar growls and pounding bass drums. Some really angry human started in, her voice full of gravel and sharp glass.

Hit me with your best shot.

Leo could feel the Icarus accelerate, zooming toward a little silver dot against the speckled black backdrop of space.

Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.

“Torpedo armed.”

The silver speck revealed itself to be a gleaming ship, sharp angles, sleek lines. It looked fast. But that wouldn’t matter if it was caught by surprise.

“Fire awaaay!” Baz sang.

Leo watched as the torpedo streaked toward its target, detonating on contact, dispersing an ion charge that wove its way through the ship’s hull, infiltrating all of its powered systems and temporarily shutting them down, leaving the ship paralyzed, the gazelle buckling before it could even take a step. He felt a quiver ripple down his back. It hadn’t been that long ago that his own ship had been struck with torpedoes, leaving its wounded carcass stranded in space. He could still remember exactly how it felt when the Djarik boarded the Beagle, he and Gareth huddled in the corner of the room, waiting in the darkness for his father to come back, his brother shivering beside him, not knowing who or what was going to open the door.

Leo thought he might be sick again.

“She’s stunned,” Kat said.

“Then find a hatch and get us hooked. Boo, you ready to look intimidating?”

The Queleti shrugged all four arms. “Meh.”

“Vicious as always.”

Kat took over the controls and guided the Icarus to dock alongside the stricken ship while Baz gathered a couple of satchels and changed into his Jordans. Apparently flip-flops weren’t the fit for a pirate raid.

“All right. Here’s the plan. Kat and Boo will head to the bridge and keep the crew under control while I sneak off to the engine room and get the goods. Skits, you and Leo will stay aboard the Icarus and keep an eye out for incoming patrols. You tell us the moment any new ship pops up on the radar so we can skedaddle.”

“In other words, wait here until you screw everything up and then come and save your sorry meat-sack hides like I always do,” Skits translated.

Baz winked. “That’s my girl.”

Leo shook his head. He didn’t like this plan. “I’m coming with you.”

“Not this conversation again,” the robot moaned. “God, Leo, would you just get over yourself already?”

Baz looked like he was thinking the same. “Listen, Leo. I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not about to deny that you’ve handled yourself well before. But this . . . what we’re about to do right here? This is pure piracy. Like walk-the-plank, ahoy-me-hearties, hang-from-the-gallows stuff. Do you really want your face on a wanted poster?”