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was standing at the far end of the hall, talking to the captain.
    The cook’s back was to me, so I was able to drop my eyes before the revulsion kicked in, but nothing could stop my fury. I don’t take well to people bad-mouthing me behind my back to my superiors as a general rule, but after all I’d gone through for this job, the thought of being undermined by a damned potato peeler made me see red. I was one step away from charging down the stairs and laying the cook out for his trouble when Caldswell came to my defense.
    “No,” the captain said. “She stays and that’s the end of it.”
    “I didn’t risk everything so you could keep her here.”
    Angry as I was, the cold fury in the cook’s voice made me flinch. He sounded as ready to kill as I was. Fortunately, Caldswell wasn’t taking that shit.
    “Then you should have thought about that before you disobeyed orders and put me in this position,” the captain said. “You made this mess, you live with it. She stays until I say otherwise, and I don’t want to hear a damn peep out of you. Is that understood, soldier?”
    The hall went silent. So much so that I thought the cook must have turned tail and run. But then he whispered, “Yes sir.”
    That sounded like the end of things to me, but Caldswell went on. “I’ve heard back from command,” he said. “Your punishment has been set.”
    My ears perked up. Punishment for what? And what did Caldswell mean by command? Wasn’t he an independent trader? I held my breath, waiting for the cook to give me a clue, but all the horrid man would say was, “Yes sir.”
    The reply was barely out before I heard Caldswell stomp back into his cabin, leaving the cook alone in the hall. Back on the steps, I stood up silently. Considering I hadn’t been a part of it, that exchange had gone remarkably well for me. The captain was clearly on my side, and the cook was going to be punished. For what, I didn’t know, but unless it was for talking about crewmates behind their backs, my job wasn’t over. I’d been a merc long enough now to know that this sort of thing needed to be nipped in the bud, and since I was headed for the captain’s room anyway, now seemed like as good a time as any.
    With that, I squared my shoulders and started down the stairs again. I hadn’t heard the cook move or the door to his cabin open, so I was pretty sure he was still standing where the captain had left him. You can imagine my surprise, then, when I rounded the final spiral and nearly ran right into his chest.
    He was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his head down and his shoulders slumped. Seeing how he’d just gotten chewed out by his captain, I hadn’t expected him to be cheerful, but this was different. The cook didn’t look upset, he looked devastated, like a gambler who’s lost everything and has only just begun to realize it, and for a tiny moment, my heart went out to him. Fortunately, it was a fleeting madness, because as soon as he looked up, the revulsion hit me like a tank.
    For one terrible second, I thought I was going to get sick right there and ruin everything. I had a point to make, though, so I swallowed my nausea and forced myself to keep looking. That was how I caught the strange desperation on the cook’s face before his expression smoothed over into a calm, polite smile so bland and sudden it was like he’d put on a mask.
    Once he’d recovered from my sudden appearance, the cook stepped aside to let me pass. When I didn’t move, he asked in a cool, polite voice, “Is something wrong?”
    “You could say that,” I drawled, resting my hands on my hips. Now, you might think it’s hard to look intimidating when you’re dressed in a ratty T-shirt, barefoot, and unarmed facing down a man who has a good ten inches on you, but that’s bullshit. Intimidation is all about attitude. All you have to do is let just how much you’d love to kick the other guy’s ass show on your face and even the biggest