“No, not co-owners,” answered Naecia. “Owners. But only while you’re wearing a suit that you can use to rob and kill us with. It’s no secret that you’d rather be solo at this point. This way, your ship would become the property of our next-of-kin and/or designated heirs in the event of our untimely deaths.” She smiled innocently.

“I’m not signing over the ship–”

“And,” Naecia continued, “we will send a follow-up communiquery reporting it stolen, so that it will be locked down should you enter any port in the Dasma Arm after murdering us. When you return from the Glaive and have placed the suit back into our custody, we will execute documentation bequeathing the ship back to you, which will then be transmitted to Velpha, effectively canceling the prior transaction.” She grinned. Oush and Izairis looked adequately impressed. It was at least eighty-one percent of a good idea.

Aptat raised the eyebrow-less skin above their eye. “If you escape from all of this alive, you should consider a second career in organized crime.” They crossed the floor to the ship’s console. “Follow.”

The Stringers gathered as Aptat brought up the ship’s note, which held all of its fundamental identifying information as well as make, class, capacity, reactor-engine type, and title history. Aptat opened the deed tab and dragged over the Stringers’ profiles. “There. Happy to get something for nothing?”

“You’re literally a slave-trader,” said Izairis, exasperated.

“Point taken. Nevertheless.”

Naecia highlighted Aptat’s own profile at the head of the deed. “Delete.”

“You want to divest me of any interest in the ship?”

“You won’t be permanently divested of anything if you come back from the salvage run – with my caridianite – and don’t murder us.”

“And what is to keep you all from running once I’m off the ship?”

“I need those coils before the Switch Drive will actually do any switching. We will also need weapons. Oh, and voidsuits for our assault on the Timelance. So you should make that part of your salvage efforts too.”

“An assault on the Timelance, eh?” Aptat chuckled. “And how would we get onboard? Pose as neural dredge sales representatives?”

“I have an idea about that, but it won’t matter if you don’t go and get what we need.”

Aptat grumbled petulantly and deleted their profile from the ship’s note, then dispatched the update to the Registry at Velpha. “There. Now. My helmet and cuirass.”

Naecia looked over to the nun-forger Izairis. “Are we good?”

“It’s legitimate,” she said. “The ship is ours.”

Naecia nodded to Oush, who presented the helmet. “I was starting to enjoy that,” he said. Izairis surrendered the chest piece.

Naecia placed a navigational and communications lock on the ship. “I suppose you could still murder us,” she said. “But if you do, you’ll be on the float and with no com.”