“I am. It’s a temporary position and we’re heading into Valovian space. I’m looking for someone who can also fight if circumstances call for it.” Three interviews ago I’d decided to lead with the information most likely to terminate the interview. And all three candidates had thanked me and moved on.

The woman didn’t run. “Permission to come aboard.”

I waved her in and watched her climb the ramp. She moved like a soldier, efficient and light on her feet. She looked around with a scowl. “If you have a MechE now, they’re shit,” she said without prompting.

“Thanks,” I responded drily. “And you are?”

“Anja Harbon. I spent six years as an FHP grunt and survived. That was followed by four years as a mechanical engineering specialist. I was booted out after I punched my commanding officer.”

“Did they deserve it?”

Her smile was fierce. “Yes.”

That smile told me that she’d happily punch them again. “Are you going to have a problem following my orders?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Are you going to give me stupid orders?”

“Quite possibly. We’re going to Valovia with a squad of Valoffs. Most would argue that was stupid at the outset.”

“I looked you up,” she said quietly. “You’re the reason my company made it out of Rodeni.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t just me.”

Shadows darkened her face. “No, but you’re the one who volunteered to risk everything, and your entire squad went with you. You won’t have to worry about me following your orders.”

Memories crept around my mental block. I’d volunteered because it was that or die. It didn’t make me noble—it made me reckless. I’d snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, but only at a terrible cost. General Fletcher wasn’t the only one who thought I was a monster.

“Show me the rest of the ship. Hopefully it’s in better shape than this,” Anja said with a wave around the cargo bay.

I laughed, shaking off the memories. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Anja muttered the entire time I showed her around the maintenance level of the ship. In the engine room, she patted an open maintenance hatch and murmured, “Poor baby. I’ll fix you up in no time.”

After the tour, we returned to the cargo bay to discuss details. When she quoted me an extremely low salary requirement, I raised my eyebrows and waited.

She broke eye contact. “I need to leave this station,” she said. “I’m not in legal trouble, and it won’t affect my performance, but by taking me along, you’d be doing me a favor.”

“Am I going to have a crime syndicate on my ass?”

She shook her head. “Nothing so dire. Just a messy breakup. This station is only so big, and I don’t have the funds to leave right now.”

“Will trouble follow you?”