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The silence on the other end of the comm stretched long enough that he started to wonder if Jex had actually been insulted.

Then Jex said, “Already done, Norman.”

Rann frowned. “What do you mean, Norman?”

Jex chuckled on the other end of the call. That was never a good sound. Jex’s amusement had a way of meaning Rann was about to regret asking a question.

“Norman Brown is the most common name combination for a human male I could find from the records on this station.”

Rann leaned his head back against the wall with a groan. “I already told them my name is Randall James.”

For one horrible beat, Jex said nothing. Then his chuckle became a full-grown laugh.

It poured through the tiny comm speaker, far too pleased with itself.

“Well,” Jex said once he got enough control over himself to speak, “that sounds like a you problem, not a me problem.”

Rann rubbed at his forehead. Randall Smith. Of all the names he could have picked…

He should have planned this better.

He should have just told Stevie the truth.

No. Absolutely not. That would have gone brilliantly, wouldn’t it?

Hello, human females. I murdered your pilot because he was trafficking you, and I’m borrowing his ship to get you somewhere safe. Please ignore the fact that I’m seven feet tall, armed, and currently using a fake identity.

Yeah. No.

“Yeah, cheers,” Rann growled. “Thanks for that, mate.”

Then he cut the comm.

3

Blythe left Stevie in the comms room before the woman could say anything else about the bloody pilot and the way he was built...

The corridor was quiet for all of ten seconds before her stomach growled like a bear with a sore head.

She rubbed at it as she walked. Right. When had she last eaten? She frowned. There had been half a protein bar at some point this morning. Huh... no, maybe that had been yesterday? The last few days had blurred into cargo manifests, busted loaders, short deliveries, and fixing all the things that were busted on this damn tub.

Leaning back against the bulkhead, she scrubbed both hands over her face and fought back a yawn.

She was tired. Like proper tired. The kind that got into her bones and sat there, making dealing with every little problem feel like a mountain expedition.

But she couldn’t afford to be tired.

Not now. Not with the ship loaded and the departure clearance nearly on them. They needed to get the hell off this station before anyone realized they were here. She’d been run ragged getting ready for this. Getting them ready. She wasn’t going to fall apart at the last hurdle because she’d forgotten the basic human requirement of putting food in her face.

“Eat,” she muttered to herself. Then she could go back to hating everything.

Pushing off the wall, she headed toward the galley.

The ship spoke softly to her as she walked. It was old, with old systems she’d had to patch and coax along because replacing them cost money they didn’t have. Which meant she knew every noise this crate made, and that one on the left as she passed the environmental systems was harmless.

Just the ship saying hello...

Probably.