Helix performed the introductions, but he didn’t tell her that he could connect to the ship and that he was in close contact with the resistance AI. Why, he couldn’t say exactly. That reluctance to share extended to the fractured memories he was recovering too. It would be better to form a full picture and inform her then.

Aevi burst into the cabin, full of excited chatter about everything she’d seen and smelled, and in some cases tasted. Bojak appeared to be her favorite among the newcomers, though she liked Maglan nearly as well. Qalu listened with quiet amusement, endlessly patient where the Pherzul was concerned. Eventually she paused for a moment, though she didn’t seem to be out of words.

In that lull, a tone rang out, and then Praxys spoke. “Before you rest, I have an update regarding the bounty hunter. Come to the hub if you’re interested in learning more.”

Qalu received an odd impression from Helix’s body language—the flare of his head tendrils whispered that he was tense—but with that announcement, there was no time to pursue the matter. She certainly did want to know more about the one hunting them, so she checked that her swator was wrapped properly and beckoned.

“Shall we?”

Helix answered by moving toward the door. It was unfortunate that he hadn’t gotten to wash up, but there should be an opportunity afterward. She followed Helix, who navigated flawlessly through the ship, making turns with an assurance that registered as unusual. Everyone was already waiting when they arrived, giving her no chance to query as to how he’d done that. She had no way of knowing if this information would be a revelation to the whole crew or if the assembly was for their benefit.

Praxys signaled for attention with a flourishing gesture. “We have some internal connections on Tiralan, not official members of the resistance, but allies nonetheless. And they’ve forwarded some private correspondence. You can peruse it at your leisure, as I’m making it available in our files, but for now, let me summarize.” He paused, glancing at each in turn, likely to ensure he had everyone’s attention.

Qalu stood quiet, her insides tightening into knots. Every moment, this predicament became more real, a course she’d chosen in headlong flight. Not that she’d decide otherwise, but sometimes it took a while for the consequences to sink in, like precipitation slowly seeping into parched earth.

“First, let me say that they didn’t forward a copy of the contract. Most hunters keep the terms quiet because they don’t want to publicize their rate of pay. When there’s mystique, there’s more latitude in terms of how much they can get for a job.”

That made sense. If the pay rate was a matter of public record, it would be difficult to negotiate for more.