Of course, they’d be flying off with idols that took up the last sliver of storage the Vessel had without revealing compartments the Republic never needed to know about. The Jedi said they had it under control.

Not that he took the Jedi’s word for everything. But the Force—that was their wheelhouse. Besides, the spiritual dimensions of the galaxy weren’t warning him about his cargo hold. They were warning him about the station. All the more reason to get out.

“How long until our departure?” Cohmac Vitus asked from the cockpit entrance.

“Just waiting for our copilot,” Leox said.

Even as he said it, Affie shouldered past Cohmac and stomped onto the bridge, making the Jedi raise one eyebrow. The glance he gave Leox clearly meant something along the lines of, Adolescents—what can you do?

Affie’s problems were a whole lot more complicated than that. A whole lot more valid. But none of that was Cohmac’s business.

Leox said only, “Tell everyone to get themselves strapped in. We’re out of here in five.”

Once the Jedi had departed, he returned to his seat. Affie kept her gaze fixed on her controls, not acknowledging her fellow crew members. Geode hadn’t dared start a conversation with her, and Leox couldn’t blame the guy. He didn’t intend to start one, either.

Not because he was afraid of Affie’s temper—though that was a very reasonable thing to fear—but because any conversation was going to loop back to her asking the wrong questions, and him holding back the answers she wasn’t ready to hear.

The coordinates were set. “Detaching from airlock in five,” he announced.

Affie nodded. “Five, four, three…”

On the mark, she turned the lever that released the clamps; a heavy metallic thud echoed through the Vessel, the sound of their freedom. As the engines powered up, Leox brought the ship’s nose around, bringing back their usual view of the stars. It was a relief to see open space again. Leox was uneasy with containment on planets or stations, and only felt at home with a ship at his command.

Often, Affie teased him about that—“We’re taking off at last, you can breathe again!”—but that day she stuck to the bare minimum. “Preparing for hyperspace jump.”

“That water’s still gonna be a little choppy,” Leox muttered. “Geode’s linked the routes up as smoothly as possible, but that’s not the same thing as actually being smooth. You ready?”

Her only reply was, “Jumping in five.”

Leox grabbed the handle, took a deep breath, and made the leap. Space stretched into infinity, every star a comet for one brief instant. Then hyperspace surrounded them, blue again (but dark, violet-tinged, not at all right) and shimmering, almost alive.

And angry.