The sharp-faced woman had the grace to look embarrassed. “We lost a bar bet with the crew of the Ichorous Sun.”

“It … could have been worse,” said Kira. For a bar bet, they’d gotten off light.

The woman nodded. “If we had won, the captain was going to make them paint—Actually, you don’t want to know.”

Kira was inclined to agree.

A nudge from the barrel of the slug thrower was enough to start Kira down the corridor again. She wondered if she ought to have her hands above her head.

Their walk ended at another pressure door on the other side of the ship. The woman banged on the wheel in the center, and a moment later, Falconi’s voice sounded: “It’s unlocked.”

The wheel produced a satisfying clunk as she turned it.

The door swung open, and Kira was surprised to see they weren’t meeting in a control center, but rather a cabin. Falconi’s cabin, to be precise.

The room was just large enough to walk a few steps without banging into the furniture. Bunk, sink, lockers, and walls were all as plain as could be, even with overlays. The only decoration sat on the built-in desk: a gnarled bonsai tree with silvery-grey leaves and a trunk twisted in the shape of an S.

Despite herself, Kira was impressed. Bonsai were hard to keep alive on a ship, yet the tree seemed healthy and well cared for.

The captain was sitting at the desk, a half-dozen windows arrayed in his holo-display.

The top few buttons of his shirt were undone to reveal a wedge of tanned muscle, but it was his rolled-up sleeves and bare forearms that caught her attention. The exposed skin was a twisted mass of mottled scar tissue. It looked like partially melted plastic, hard and shiny.

Kira’s first reaction was revulsion. Why? Burns, and scars in general, were easy to treat. Even if Falconi had been injured somewhere without medical facilities, why wouldn’t he have had the scars removed later? Why would he allow himself to be … deformed?

Lying on Falconi’s lap was Runcible. The pig’s eyes were half-closed, and his tail wiggled with satisfaction as the captain scratched behind his ears.

Nielsen stood next to the captain, arms crossed and an expression of impatience on her face.

“You wanted to see me?” Falconi said. He smirked, seeming to enjoy Kira’s discomfort.

She reassessed her initial impression of him. If he was willing to use his scars to put her off balance, then he was smarter, more dangerous than she had thought. And if the bonsai was anything to go by, more cultured too, even if he was an exploitive asshole.

“I need to speak with you in private,” she said.

Falconi gestured at Nielsen and the blond-haired woman. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them.”

Irritated, Kira said, “This is serious … Captain. I wasn’t joking when I told Gregorovich it was a matter of life and death.”