My rhythm is only thrown off for a moment. I'm trying not to show how far behind I am in the script, given that there's a synthetic networked-mind observing me from a few hundred different perspectives. Even assuming every one of these bricks and blocks is subsentient, this conglomerate as a whole must be close to supersapient when overclocked.

  I'm engrossed in trying to pin down his range of cognition, so I gasp and jump when the avatar of a man appears instantly mere feet from me. Or at least what I perceive as mere feet away from my avatar, not that distance means anything in D-space. The man is plain; average height, dark hair cropped short in a crew cut, with a neatly trimmed goatee and bright green eyes. His avatar is dressed in a plain white button up shirt and slacks, with a black vest.

  It's a simple, professional appearance that doesn't give any indication of his nationality or origin. I don't see any augmentations, so he's likely using a temp augment. He's got the demeanor I associate with black-hats. Assuming he appears anything like his avatar- which he would with a temp augment- he looks like a bookie. But he holds himself more confidently, and my hackles rise.

  He gives me a bland smile. "I'd apologize for screening you through my associate, and for appearing suddenly, but it was prudent, given your incognito handle." The man splays his hands amicably.

  I snort. "I'd accept the apology, if I didn't think it was as artificial as your colleague. After all, you picked this virt to keep me off-balance," I say, gesturing with a vague, grey limb to the rolling and changing pattern of shapes around us. In meatspace, I've made it back to my feet, and I'm walking again. Slowly.

  The corner of Caspian's lips quirk up. "Visual disorientation. Not very imaginative, I'll admit, but effective. Still, you were the one trying to negotiate through Ms. Morgan, correct? I do hope your client wasn't trying to cut me out of the negotiations," he says, inclining his head. The form of Aquarius has floated back, but the loosely connected and brightly colored shapes hover nearby.

  I turn back to the middle-aged man. This Caspian, if that's his real name. "My client wants to resolve this with the minimum amount of fuss. He's not picky about who he goes through." He picked me as his CI, after all.

  The man shakes his head. "Let's not lag around the gravity well. He tried to run around me to get a better deal. Now he, and you, know that Cara and I aren't going to be played against each other. So, how would the trading consortium like to proceed?" He manages to meet my eyes, all the more impressive given that my incognito avatar doesn't have pupils.

  "Well, I'm hoping we can solve this problem without any more blackmail, and ideally without violence," I say, my focus straying back to Aquarius. The synth is the real threat in D-space. In meatspace, I turn down a hall, hand braced on the ferrocrete side. In my overlay, I'm not far from TooBee's clinic.

  Caspian gives me a nod. "I prefer to avoid violence whenever I can. And blackmail is an ugly word. I like to imagine a world where everyone's personal privacy and property is mutually respected," he delivers smoothly, rolling a hand.

  I tilt my head. "Sounds nice. How about the real world, where you want my client to sell his metals through your group's markets in exchange for keeping his privacy private?" Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining.

  The man shrugs, turning his hands up. "Consolidation is necessary to promote the Jovian's economic power. I'm not seeking to acquire ownership or establish a monopoly here," he offers. "Everyone chooses their own buyers."

  I nod. "Sure, you just want to manipulate the medium the sales go through. Control the tap."

  He chuckles softly. "It's simply good business. So, you're Dame, is that right?" He tilts his head and strokes his chin with a thumb.

  "It's not the name I was given at birth, but I'll answer to it," I say, shaking my head. He's not denying anything, which means he's not playing games. "And you? Should I be calling you 'facilitator'? Captain of industry? Vulture capitalist?"

  This earns a genuine smile from him. "Oh, no need for that. I'm a simple man, so call me Caspian. Caspian Casey. It also isn't the name I was given at birth, but I've answered to it for a while now."

  Something about that name feels familiar. "Wasn't there a holo series with that name? Something with a lion in the closet, and a witch who causes an ice age?"

  The smile fades from his face, and he inclines his head. "Something like that. But back to the subject at hand. I assume the mining collective wants to maintain their own pricing structure?" His green eyes are keen.

  I nod at that. "Seems a bit silly for you to be dictating their prices," I point out, raising a hand. "I mean, you're not the buyer, not the seller; just taking a slice off the top, and telling the parties what they can buy and sell for?" I grin back at him and wonder if he'll be able to tell while I'm incognito. "What, are you copying the Earth-corps schemes?"

  Caspian narrows his eyes. "Quite the opposite. We need to ensure a competitive marketplace. Otherwise, inequities accumulate, and entities could be priced out of broader spectrum of-"

  "Is your truthbot gonna light up when you're full of scrap too?" A flicker of irritation flits across Caspian's face, but I barrel through. "Let's parse the code cleanly; you want to dictate markets to maintain leverage on the back end of major sales contracts. Give deals where you want, hinder projects you don't like, favor sympathetic partners, and so on. You don't want credits, per se. You want power. And this kind of deep, embedded power is great for coalition building," I say, narrating my thoughts as I work it out.

  Caspian's face fades to a mask of neutrality. "Do you have a point, or are you musing out loud?"

  I bite my tongue. "I'm thinking someone trying to control the local levers of power wouldn't just be moving in on a whim and setting up shop. They'd need to be partnered locally. And they'd need to bump off the old guard that wouldn't buy in," I murmur, trailing off.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Caspian's face grows stony. "Dame, you're beginning to offend me. If I were the sort to do so, then why wouldn't the collective cut a deal and keep themselves out of a power struggle?"

  I shrug. "Maybe some people value freedom more than safety."

  I'm surprised when he laughs out loud. "Sure, but not the kind of people who form trading consortiums. They band together to reduce risk," he adds out with a wry grin. "So, would you like to continue disparaging my attempts to make the Jovian markets competitive with the inner system, or did you actually come here to negotiate?"

  I lick my lips. Careful now. "Sure, if you have authority to make the deal with me. Just to be clear, you're the one in charge?"

  He raises an eyebrow. "Who else?"

  "I thought Cara Morgan, or..." this K.C. guy I keep hearing about. K.C. Casey. Caspian Casey. Oh holy-void spawned fuck, I'm getting facetime with the kingpin himself? The man blackmailing Jax?

  And the man who tried to kill Sparrow. My fingers clench.

  Cassandra lets out a shrill wail, and Aquarius flashes a deep red. Most of the blocks composing the figure slide in front of Caspian's avatar. "Limbic response! She's hostile," Cassandra screeches, and several rows of blocks begin to creep out from Aquarius like two sets of secondary arms.

  "Hold," Caspian says quickly, lifting a hand towards the floating series of bricks, which roll through a variety of colors. He doesn't speak for a moment but turns back to me. "Would you like to explain?

  I feel my blood boiling. "You planted a bomb on Argus station. You tried to kill Sparrow at Io."

  His brow furrows. "Io?" Then his eyes widen as understanding dawns. "Wait, the recycler sabotage for the refugee runner- so you're the cop from admin? The former cop that Cid shot?" Shit, so much for incognito. He smiles. "Ms. Cruz, correct? You're here for Jax, and to appeal the denial of a weapons certification? Oh, well, isn't it nice when matters dovetail together?" He grins widely at me.

  I drop the incognito filter and notice his eyes widening further. Surprised? Good. "That's bad news for you, asshole. It means all of my problems can be solved by blowing you out the airlock."

  The blocks composing Aquarius darken in response to browns and purples, but Caspian gestures again. For a moment, there's silence, and I almost feel him thinking. "So, just to be clear, you have no ideological issues with us or dispute over turf? This is purely a personal matter?"

  I balk at that. "I have ideological issues with murder."

  He waves a hand. "Granted. But if I gave you and your... Sparrow? If I gave you both a free pass, and you fly away reimbursed for your losses and with your weapons certification approved, there'd be no further dispute between us?"

  I grit my teeth in meatspace. You're lucky I can't kill you here. "You already tried to murder her once."

  Casey shrugs. "I'm forced to point out, she willingly involved herself with the League," he says blandly. "As far as I'm concerned, if you play the game, you assume the risk. Besides, it was purely a pragmatic consideration, given her handler's death and the fact that she fled to Io. Information control, operational security, snipping loose ends," he says casually, motioning with his fingers.

  I open my mouth, but I close it again after a moment. Don't fly off the handle, Mel. A few heartbeats of silence pass. "There were two others who died: innocent victims. And Sparrow's mother was almost killed in the explosion. She may have died by now, for all I know."

  Caspian frowns at those words. "Unfortunate and unintentional; that was purely a case of collateral damage. It's hard to make a clean kill on a military station; our asset was limited in materiel and opportunity," he says without malice. He closes his eyes, sighing as he lifts both hands. "But really, is this about revenge? That's a different game all together."

  A long moment goes by. And are you really offering an out? We all walk away, no fuss? "You pay for everything," I hiss. "Medical costs, damages, fees, everything. And credits go to the victims' families. And Sparrow walks away from the League, forever. You never go after her, her ship, or her mother. Or me," I add, baring my teeth.

  Caspian closes his eyes, considering. "And she'll keep quiet about the League's activities in the Jovian?"

  I give him a short, bitter laugh. "Do you think she's going to be bragging about being an accomplice for the Gaian felons she ran past the Navy?"

  A long, heavy silence plays out. Finally, he opens his eyes and tilts his head. "Does she know anything else?"

  I blink a few times. "Know anything? About the Gaian agents? Probably whatever they talked with her about while she smuggled them, but she wasn't digging into the League's business, if that's what you mean."

  The silence plays out further. "We had an asset at Europa. He was attempting to retrieve... a sample from the lunar surface. Before the nuke went off down there." Caspian's face is blank, but I see Aquarius shift a few shades lighter.

  I try to keep my focus split between them. "Rusteater is dead, if you hadn't heard."

  The synth's block cloud contracts rapidly, colors darkening. Interesting. Caspian merely nods. "Yes, I'm aware. And the sample?"

  I blink. "Of what?"

  He frowns. "Cassandra?"

  The blocks in the arm flare. "She's not equivocating. She doesn't understand."

  Caspian looks at me again. "So, neither you nor Sparrow has heard of... Jovian seafood?"

  My eyebrows rise. "What? Are you off-line? Jovian sea..." Suddenly, my gut tightens. Europa. The squids.

  Cassandra's cloud of blocks expands, bricks fading to pitch black. "Quickened pulse, dilating pupils, heightened blood pressure, micromuscular tension, adrenal response. She knows."

  Shit. And that means now they know that Sparrow knows too. Good work, Mel. I lift my hand. "I have no idea if he managed to get one, or where it is-"

  Caspian sighs, looking pained. "He did. It's on Ursa Miner station, in the personal custody of a Code Enforcment Captain." Caspian's lips turn down into a momentary grimace.

  Ha! Cartwright, you vacuum-sucking prick, good on you for screwing over someone else this time. And someone who actually deserves it, too! It's a nice bonus. "That's too bad for you. Bet it's pretty valuable, especially since nobody is going to be launching surface expeditions on Europa anytime soon.."

  Casey locks his fingers together. "Sparrow has a vessel, yes? A modified shuttle? I might be willing to forget this entire series of events, if she were to help get another asset onto Ursa Miner station."

  I scoff. "Is that a joke? Smuggle more Gaians? To hell with that, her days of working for you are over!"

  He extends a hand, palm up. "I'm not asking her to personally retrieve the sample-"

  "No, just provide the getaway vehicle!" I snarl. "You don't want the Navy coming after yours for an act of piracy, I presume?"

  Caspian tilts his head. "What if I cut you both in for a percentage? It could be... extremely lucrative, and I'm willing to make a deal in good faith. It would be enough to buy a shuttle three times over," he adds.

  I grit my teeth, feeling my nails dig into my palms. "Here's the only deal you're going to get; you back the hell off of Jax and his bunch, for good. I get my weapons certification, you pay all the costs I've laid out, Sparrow and I never see or hear from the League again. If you don't, I'll squawk to Codes and spill everything."

  Casey's amused expression evaporates. "You'd do time, and so would she," he says darkly.

  I feel the white-hot rage boiling up. "Motherfucker, I nuked Europa and got away clean!" I hiss through my teeth. "I've got friends and enemies who scare the shit out of me, and trust me, you don't want to be on the bad side of either," I snarl, stepping closer. "You think I'm bluffing? Ask Cassie if I'm lying right now. But if you want to try your luck, then bring it, Mister lying-bitch-in-the-wardrobe!"

  Caspian meets my eye for a long moment. To his credit, he doesn't flinch. "You've got spine. You'd have fit right in with my crew," he says. "But you overplayed your hand." He shrugs, turning to the synth. "Kill her," he orders Aquarius, before his avatar vanishes.