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Lang’s in jail.”
    Avienne groaned. “Again?” Lang was not one of their original crew, but he’d been working with them for a few years.
    Ardin’s jaw was set in a stubborn line. A look Avienne knew all too well.
    “Come on, Ardin,” Avienne pleaded. “He might get sent to a mining colony this time, and he’s too soft. He wouldn’t even last a day. We can’t let him rot there.”
    Ardin began walking, but Avienne refused to follow. “If you don’t get him out, I will, Ardin.”
    At those words, her brother did stop. “We’ll have to break him out, unless you intend on paying the fee on his head.”
    “Why? How big is it?” Avienne asked. Ardin merely shook his head.
    “So we break him out. How hard could that be, with the right distraction?” She smiled and winked as she walked passed him, back towards their shuttle.
    He groaned again, and she laughed.
    “Let’s get Lang, and then we’ll try getting this Layela one more time before we leave the planet. Maybe we can convince the Berganda to tell us her whereabouts.” She ran her finger along the smooth pommel of her gun. With just one bullet per gun allowed on this little planet, it could be a bit of a challenge.
    Her brother shook his head and didn’t answer, but he would go along with her. She was certain of it.
    Avienne looked back at the flower shop one last time and spied the Berganda in the window, watering some flowers. For someone whose friend was in apparent danger, she certainly didn’t seem very concerned.
    i
    Layela leaned her head against the window, watching the dark landscape of Collar spread below, her heart thudding as she wondered what fate awaited her. It was not the first time she had been arrested because of Yoma, and it would not be the first time she would neither talk nor beg.
    Still, her skin tingled with fear at the thought of the pain that might soon follow. Her eyes and throat felt dry, and she wished that she could have some water. Her arms and wrists ached, firmly secured behind her, her hands numb from the tight cuffs. She closed her eyes, fighting back the memories. These were soldiers, men with laws they had to obey, she repeated in her mind. This was not some ill-fated capture by security guards who held no respect for law or life.
    She would be fine. She was no longer on Thalos IV.
    Her breathing calmed, her mind slowed and she reopened her eyes. The shuttle was approaching an ugly grey building, “Gullwing Detention Centre” marked above the shuttle port’s entry.
    “Time to go,” the guard said with a half-grin as the shuttle landed. The doors opened and Layela was shoved into the dimly lit metal bay.
    She gritted her teeth as fingers dug into her arms, the two guards well armed and well muscled. They followed the yellow-lit corridors, marking the path to the judgment rooms. Soon she would learn what she was accused of. But then, the guards veered off into another corridor lighted in unfamiliar green. Layela felt her gut turn. They were no longer heading for the judgment rooms, as by law they should be.
    “Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice cracking.
    She bit back a cry of pain when they answered by digging their fingers so deep she thought her bones would break.
    “I have the right to fair judgment,” Layela said, her voice gaining strength.
    Her answer came swiftly as a blow to the back of her head that sent white spots rushing into her vision. She staggered and fought to regain her senses, or at least keep her footing as they pushed her forward.
    A guard grabbed her arm and wheeled her around, grinning wildly at his captive. His face loomed over hers. Layela quickly brought up her knee and made contact, and the guard was down and moaning.
    The quick movement made her dizzy and she took one step back to gain her bearing, but another guard kicked her down. She landed hard on her side and back, the cuffs biting deeper into her wrists. Warm blood pooled in her hand.
    She raised her legs and