“My boss is offering you a third option,” Quint said. “A full pardon. For all of your crimes.”

A full pardon? Not just commute the charges, minimize them, whatever weasel-word way of saying they didn’t plan on doing anything, but actually wipe them clean? I could get my translation jobs back without having to bolt every time the police rounded the corner. I could travel again, seek out strange new verbs and look for a place that might feel, in some indefinable and wordless way, like it could be home.

Bullshit. The past didn’t just go away, and I didn’t want to meet anyone who believed it could.

“Who’s your boss?” I asked, at the same time as Leah demanded, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s an abandoned ship orbiting a star near the end of its lifespan. Our estimates say the star will go nova within the month, likely within the next two weeks. My boss wishes you to retrieve a piece of data from the ship before the supernova destroys it.”

A simple enough task. Simple enough, in fact, that I couldn’t see the need for three felons and a secret room with no electronics. The antique clock was weighty in my lap, ticking away. I got my nails between the seam of body and back panel and started to pry the clock open.

“All three of you have experience with salvage and… avoiding customs,” Quint said, eying me while I disassembled the furniture. “My boss requires competence and discretion.”

The inside of the clock was all intermeshed wheels, mysteriously interlocked, ticking steadily. “Why does your boss need us to be discreet?”

“The data is of a sensitive nature.”

I pulled one of the gears free. “And who is your boss that he wants sensitive data and discretion?”

“My boss’s name doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s in a position to help you.”

“Where is this dying star?” Leah asked. “If we’re stealing something, we’ll end up right back in jail. And,” she pointed one finger at Quint like the muzzle of a gun, “there’s no way we’re going to Maria Nova to steal anything from the Ministers.”

“A prison cell sounds better than the Ministers,” I agreed. So did splinters beneath the nails and any other variety of tortures. The gears I’d taken from the clock carved bright lines of pain against my palm.

“The ship is in unclaimed space, and no one but my boss knows its location. You will be the only salvagers there.”

“What exactly do you want us to steal?” I asked.

“Data. More information will be provided to you on your departure, as well as a ship and necessary supplies.”

Leah scoffed. “You don’t know what supplies we need.”

“You can choose them yourself,” Quint said. “Your budget is generous.”

“We would need a fast ship.” I’d pulled a handful of smaller gears from the back of the clock, and it was starting to look a little empty. “If this supernova is in unclaimed space and we have fourteen days or less to explore the ship before the star explodes, we’ll need to get there within a few hours. That means cutting-edge FTL.” I upturned my handful of gears onto the desk. They fell, glittering and ringing like coins.