When Torran hesitated, I laughed without humor. “Your empress is going to kill me. I deserve to know why I’m dying.”

“They want guaranteed shipping rights in Valovian space,” Nilo said, “and access through all of our wormholes.”

I rocked back on my heels. So not much then, just what we’d fought a decades-long war for, until both sides had determined that it was too costly for too little gain. The resulting peace treaty had returned us to the status quo, with neither side happy about it.

Were the Feds reevaluating that decision, or was the Valovian Empire using a convenient kidnapping to justify breaking the treaty?

Either way, war loomed on the horizon.

And an innocent seven-year-old kid was smack in the middle of it. None of us had asked for this shitty hand that life had dealt, but it wasn’t Cien’s fault that his uncle was an enormous asshole.

I met Torran’s eyes. “We’re going to find Cien. And when we do, you’re going to board Starlight with us and escort us all the way back to Bastion, where we’ll happily boot your ass out. If your empress has other ideas, then you’ll voluntarily become our hostage until we get to Bastion. Refuse and you won’t make any progress on the kidnapping at all because you’ll be too busy trying to keep us pinned down.”

“You’re not really going to help him, are you?” Lexi asked.

“No, I’m not. I’m helping the kid, and I’m helping myself, and I’m helping you all. General Fletcher can fall in a volcano as far as I’m concerned.”

“I agree to your terms, Captain Zarola,” Torran said.

“At least until some better deal comes along,” I taunted. “I’ve seen exactly how much your promises are worth.”

He flinched again.

I spun away from him and landed in the first chair I found. My ragged, bleeding wounds were dangerously close to becoming visible. “Let’s get to work,” I snapped.

“Tavi,” Kee said over the comm. The compassion in her tone was nearly enough to smash the fragile hold I had on my emotions.

“Later,” I commanded, my voice harsher than it should’ve been. I winced and stared at the display in front of me without seeing anything.

It took a few blinks, but eventually the image resolved itself into the zoomed-in picture of Commodore Morten. I stared at the face of the person I hated most in the galaxy—at least until Torran had done a bang-up job trying to steal the title.

I turned to Chira, determined to completely ignore Torran for the next ten days, and pointed at the screen. “Was this building searched?”

She glanced at Torran, but when I didn’t move my attention from her, she nodded. “Nothing was found.”

“Were their locations before this traced?”