The ship was about the same size as Cavalier. Stardust Encounter was built from the ground up around a single cargo bay. Every other aspect of the vessel was in service of this section. After a brief but friendly exchange of pleasantries the two ships docked.

  The pilot and owner was named Lannach. She was a floating thing, shaped like a brain. Tentacles hung underneath this brain-like structure. Eli watched as she meticulously examined the collection of junk Cavalier’s crew had nearly died salvaging from the remains of a destroyed frigate.

  Gami and one of Tarl’s butar pretended to browse her wares as a way of encouraging a positive exchange. The bay was stocked with countless items. Pieces of body armor sat beside power cells. Military ration packs were piled up on a pallet made out of bck wood. Physical books were stacked up in long, unstable rows. Even if something had caught their interest, they didn’t have the money to buy any of it.

  Tarl looked at Eli. They were negotiating over what the wandering trader would give them for a check valve.

  “What do you think of him?” he asked Gami.

  “Who? Eli?”

  “Ya. I like him, but if I’m honest, the bastard scares me sometimes.”

  “Only sometimes?” she followed this with a little giggle.

  Tarl chuckled, “He’s not that bad, is he?”

  “If he was, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “That brand, why does he keep it? Bragging rights?”

  “Because, he sees it as part of his story. What the Sad’Daki did to him is an important part of his life,” she looked away for a few moments, “I get the feeling that he lost a lot when they invaded.”

  “War does that. You understand.”

  “I do. I also think that he keeps that brand as an act of defiance. He wants anyone to see it to know what he’s been through, and he dares them to try to collect on the bounty.”

  Tarl pced a closed fist to his forehead, which was his people’s equivalent of shaking one’s head, “It’s unwise. It’ll attract trouble.”

  “Sometimes, that’s a good thing.”

  “Maybe you’re just as crazy as him.”

  “And you’re not? Do you really think that you’re going to find the one true faith?”

  “Why not?” he asked, it being a serious question, rather than a defensive objection.

  “Because countless other beings have tried it.”

  “Strange, but if you ask them, they’ll all insist that they were successful.’

  “That isn’t a very good point,” she replied.

  “It’s just a matter of figuring out which one of them was right,” Tarl said with a tilt of the head, which was his equivalent of a wink.

  She chuckled again, “It’s foolish.”

  “What about Bayhi? Isn’t that like a religion to you?”

  “It touches on it,” she acknowledged, “But it’s different.”

  “Is it?”

  “Shut up,” she said, it wasn’t completely in jest, “You didn’t seem like the kind of person that would poke at people.”

  “Sometimes, that’s a good thing,” then Tarl looked at the floor, “What if he gets out of control?”

  “Then we’ll deal with him. Until then, it’s his show. We’re his crew. I’ll do what he asks, unless he crosses a line.”

  “That raises an important question, where do you draw the line?”

  “It’s hard to pin down. I doubt it will become an issue. But if it does, I’ll add one of the most dangerous Sad’Daki war sves to my list of kills. I just hope that it doesn’t come to that.”

  ***

  While the salvage was being sold, one of Tarl’s other butar went to Rotek’s cell. He carried with him a number of books, both paper and uploaded to thumb drives.

  “Here,” he said, “something to help pass the time.”

  Rotek had been sitting on the floor beside the bed. She got up and walked over to the door. Tarl pushed the manuscripts through the bars. She sat down on the floor again, now next to the doorway. With curious eyes she perused the works.

  “Most of these are religious texts,” she observed.

  “Yes. You need to find your spiritual center. I suspect that you will spend the rest of your life in prison, and that might not be a long time. I’ve heard that your government enforces the death penalty.”

  “Aint my government,” Rotek said ftly.

  “You reject them?”

  “They sure as hell didn’t give me reason not to.”

  “It doesn’t change anything. You will atone for your crimes. I just want to give you a way to make it mean something more. And if nothing else, it will make the journey feel a little shorter.”

  “Thanks. What was your name again?”

  Tarl wondered if he should tell her. The fact that she didn’t understand his nature gave him an advantage over her. He decided that giving her his name was fine and told her.

  “Well, thank you, Tarl. You might have guessed that the path that led me here wasn’t exactly full of kindness.”

  “That’s a shame,” he said, before walking away.

  ***

  It was nighttime on the ship. Rotek sat on the floor of her cell, the bed sheet draped over her shoulders. She had washed her clothes in the sink. They were id out on the desk and chair, drying. The books that Tarl had given her were positioned around her. The flying creature sat there in front of her cell, watching dutifully.

  The low light was more than enough for her to see. The tadvash filled her mind with meaning as she looked at letters that were devised by countless civilizations from across the cosmos. Several of the works had caught her attention. Some of the more violent myths could be entertaining. And there were always the novels.

  Memories flooded back. She tried to force them away, to focus on an escape pn. One memory was useful. While serving time, she had heard many tales about the different kinds of shivs that had been fashioned. People could be so wonderfully devious, especially when they were desperate.

  The most unlikely objects, the flimsiest material could be turned into a deadly weapon. All it took was a little knowledge and a spark of ingenuity.