Faster-than-light engines, or FTL, and its sister technology of artificial gravity were relatively new inventions, barely a century old. The tech was commonly available in the Republic, where it had been invented, and it was constantly being improved as part of the arms race between the two Sister Systems. No one knew if FTL was a common technology in the other Sister System, Maria Nova. The Ministers—the deadly alien race that had appeared out of nowhere, subjugated humanity for hundreds of years, and still ruled humanity in the Maria Nova system—kept information about Maria Nova strictly controlled. All we knew was that the Ministers themselves used FTL tech.

Of course, the fastest, newest ships were the most expensive. The price of the most advanced ships could be greater than the total monetary value of an outer colony like my home planet, Kystrom, had been.

“You’ll have whatever you need,” Quint said.

The clock in my hand was missing too many pieces to tick anymore, and so the silence in the room was absolute. Quint crossed her arms over her chest, but didn’t take back her word.

I exchanged a glance with Leah. Benny still avoided looking at me, but we’d worked together for eight years now. I didn’t need to meet his eyes to know what he was thinking. I said to Quint, “How much will you pay us?”

“Five hundred thousand terraques.”

That was the price of a ship by itself, and she’d offered it without demur.

“A star about to blow sounds dangerous,” said Leah. “Is that all you think our lives are worth?” She’d dug her nails through the leather of her chair all right, her arm draped over the back.

“One million terraques, then,” Quint said.

I tossed another gear on the table. “Personally, I don’t get out of bed for less than two.”

A slight hesitation, this time. “Done,” Quint said.

“Each.”

A longer silence, so long I thought she would refuse.

Quint said, “Deal.”

I ran my finger through the pile of gears, separating them out onto the table. How many people in the Republic had that kind of finances? Not very many. “It’s an attractive offer. How do we know your boss can pay?”

“My boss is… a significant politician in the Republic. He has the means, and the authority, to enlist your services and pay as promised.”

So Quint’s boss was a Senator. How many Senators did the Republic have? Twenty-five? Thirty? And how many of those Senators had this much money? I separated out a few gears from the pile: one, two, three.

“So you understand,” Quint added, “why discretion is important.”

“We understand,” I assured her, toying with those three little gears.

“Then you accept the offer?”

“I’m in,” Leah said.

Benny spoke for the first time. “So am I.”

Quint clasped her hands together. “Very good. I’ve prepared an overview of what we know of the salvage vessel, and what—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” I waved my arm over my head; my hand ended up directly in front of her face. “You never asked me.”