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as she knew. Maybe he’d been marooned at the end of the war, the same as she. She wouldn’t ask. She wasn’t going to risk offending a paying passenger.
    “It’s two hundred tindarks for the ride,” she said. “Sound reasonable?”
    That might be on the high side, but she had little concept of what was fair these days. Her mother had only rarely taken on passengers, and that had been years ago. Since then, Alisa had ridden for free on military transports when she hadn’t flown in her own craft. But she figured she should start high, since people liked to haggle.
    “A little steep,” Alejandro said, “but you are the first ship that’s been heading to Perun in the two months that I’ve been seeking passage.” His expression turned wry.
    Between that comment and the one the job applicant had made, Alisa was starting to wonder if everyone else knew more about what was going on back on her home planet than she did.
    “It’s brave of you to take the trip,” Alejandro remarked, glancing at her jacket. “You won’t be welcome there now.”
    “So I expect.” Alisa shrugged. She wasn’t about to explain her situation to a stranger. “You look respectable, but I’m going to have to ask for payment in physical currency and up front. I hope you can understand. Food and a private cabin are included,” she rushed to add, hoping to soften her demands. Besides, it would be easy to offer a private cabin, since she had so few passengers.
    “Ah, of course. Give me a moment.” He lifted the flap of his satchel and poked around inside. Given the number of scrolls, books, and pouches stuffed inside, it might take him a while to locate his purse.
    Feeling relieved that he hadn’t objected, Alisa returned to the applicants. She could afford to hire one now and to pay back the storeowner. Things were looking up.
    Despite their earlier mutterings, they all straightened as she approached, adopting a modicum of professionalism. They were all male, all brawny, and all even scruffier and more disreputable-looking than the cyborg. Maybe her plan to hire one of them to keep him in check was a silly one.
    “Who’s got his own combat armor?” Alisa asked.
    She had asked for it in the ad, even though she hadn’t known if she would be lucky enough to get it, since a full suit cost thousands of tindarks. Even army veterans rarely had a suit of their own since theirs had been issued by—and returned to—the military. Usually, only well-off mercenaries and security guards working for big companies had the gear. Still, she spotted a couple of men with cases, and that stirred her hopes. A man in a quality suit of combat armor might just beat a cyborg in a fight. She hoped a fight with the cyborg wouldn’t be necessary, but if it was, she wanted someone who could handle him, or at least delay him while Alisa shot him.
    Two hands went up. The shoulders of the other seven men slumped.
    “Sorry, fellows,” Alisa told them. “It’s going to be a requirement for the position.”
    If nobody had shown up with combat armor, it might not have been, but she had to take one of these two men, given the choice. Not only because of her cyborg issue, but because the ship’s spacesuits had long since been stolen, so if they needed any repairs done mid-route, it would be useful to have someone who could tramp around out on the hull. Any combat armor worth its price ought to have magnetic boots and be rated for space. One never knew what kind of trouble would latch onto a ship out there.
    The two men lowered their hands as the seven rejected applicants walked past the doctor and headed down the ramp. Mica had come over to talk to Alejandro. Hopefully, she would collect his payment and see him to a cabin.
    Alisa turned her attention back to her remaining two applicants. One was a pale-skinned fellow with a smug smirk. He had a handsome face and looked like he knew he had a handsome face. Alisa was fairly certain he had been the one making