“The Free Traders are a wider network than anyone realizes,” Niko said. “They have contacts on planets that sometimes the various empires and governments have overlooked. There are still Florians—or were, forty years ago—Petalia was entrusted to us by—not their parent, really, the word in their language translates roughly to ‘gardener.’ Petalia was special, they said. There had been prophecies about them.” She rolled her eyes before casting an apologetic look toward Lassite, who simply shrugged in reply. He knew of the Florian’s part in the Spiral of Destiny and did not entirely approve. So much was riding on the moment.

“And all this time, you’ve been planning on trying again to rescue them, even when you couldn’t the first time.”

“If I could just get the resources, this time I knew I could. That was my plan. Once the restaurant was solvent, I thought then we could get a small ship. A quick one—”

“You didn’t tell me that’s what you wanted it for,” Gio signed. “You told me it’d be for supply runs and pricey trade runs.” He glanced at Dabry’s impassive face.

“And it would! Just after I’d used it to get Pet away.” Niko sighed.

“Did you have a plan other than that?” Milly demanded.

“Do I ever not?” she snapped back. She stopped, took a breath, and put her face in her hands. “I thought I did, at any rate.”

The rest looked at her.

The door opened. Turo, followed by a pair of drones, entered. “Line up against the wall,” he said. “Time to tag you.”

They moved as indicated, Niko frowning thoughtfully as Turo put the first of the gold bands he’d brought around her wrist. It matched the knobby bracelet that Petalia had worn.

“I see you don’t have to wear one of these,” Niko said conversationally. “What makes you special?”

He smirked. “Trusted lieutenants don’t have to put up with bullshit.”

“Trusted, eh?”

He moved to Atlanta but continued talking to Niko. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

“Yeah? Whazzat?” Niko drawled.

“Trying to build rapport,” he said. “Trying to find weak points, places where if you hit them just right, your chains might up and walk away.” He gave her a slow, deliberate smile, so careful she wondered if he’d rehearsed it. “That’s your style, ain’t it? They say you were good in battle that way. You found a place that the enemy never expected to hit, and then in you swept, guns and spells blazing, special strike force of magic-resistant were-lions, all of you linked and moving like a single machine. Takes a special kind of mind to handle that kind of linkage.”