Baz took the satchel full of ventasium from Leo’s shoulder and handed it to Boo, telling him to go charge up the drive before turning to Kat. “All right. Let’s see what you got.”

Kat dug into her bag and came up with a handful of octagonal chips. Aykari pentars. As solid a form of galactic currency as there was in such volatile times. Leo stared at them with a sudden pang in his gut. Apparently while he and Black were pilfering the engine room, Kat and Boo were busy robbing the passengers and crew on the bridge. “I thought you said we were just going after V?”

“You know how it is, Leo,” Baz remarked. “You run to the store for one thing, you come out with a cart full.” He counted the chips in Kat’s hand. “Six hundred? That’s all those Darkashi were good for?”

“Six hundred and this,” she said enticingly, pulling out a black cylindrical container about the size of a Queleti’s fist. She handed the pentars to Baz and then carefully unscrewed the lid.

Leo couldn’t see what was inside, but he could smell it. Even from ten feet away. “Is that—”

“You bet your blaster it is,” Baz answered. The captain licked his lips. Leo took another big whiff.

Peanut butter.

Very few things in the galaxy smelled quite like it. Leo’s mouth watered.

Kat grinned. “Apparently the Darkashi are crazy for the stuff. It’s like caviar to them. I found two jars. Still full.”

Leo’s belly produced a different kind of pain. Before he could even tell what was happening, Baz was standing beside Kat with his finger in the container, removing a giant glop of the stuff, admiring it as if it was melted gold or crushed diamonds. “Here there be treasure,” he said with a wink.

“I know I wasn’t on Earth for long as a kid,” Kat said, “but shouldn’t we . . . you know . . . spread it on something?”

“Waste of time,” Baz said, sucking the glob from his finger. His eyes rolled back into his head. “Oh man. That may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.” He dug in for another fingerful.

Kat followed suit, using her non-mechanical hand. She scooped some up and sucked her fingers, letting out a satisfied groan. “Shoot the freaking stars. Leo. You’ve got to try this.”

She held the jar out to him. He had to admit the smell was alluring. Distinctively earthy, conjuring memories of picnics and school cafeterias. He and Gareth would sometimes carve an apple between them, dipping slices in a shared bowl of peanut butter. His mother would make peanut butter pancakes as a special treat. He started to reach for the jar but then stopped himself, swallowing hard. “That’s not what we came for.”

“No. But it’s ours now,” Kat countered, diving in for another scoop. “And if you don’t hurry up and get in here there won’t be any left.”