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thanks to Sabin Travers. She could approach one of the miscreants passing through and ask for a ride. But she couldn't trust any of them—not like Fletch, at least. Although no prize, Fletch was an androgynous being already mated to another androgyne, and had posed no masculine threat to her.
    Moriah battled back rising hysteria. She had to find a way to the iridon auction and then back to Risa. And she had to talk to Celie, who would be worried that something terrible had happened to her. She dug her fingers into her palms, forcing herself to think clearly. She needed to get a communiqué to the group, so one of them could pick her up. Only it would be far too dangerous for her to stay on Calt, especially after the fiasco at Giza's. She had to stick with her original plan to travel to a star base.
    An elusive thought nagged at the back of her mind. Star base…where had she just heard that? Moriah pushed to her feet as the answer came to her. Intrepid. She'd heard Sabin tell the other man he was headed to Star Base Intrepid.
    She spun around and started walking. Her luck had just turned. Sabin Travers didn't know it, but he was about to provide her transportation to Star Base Intrepid. She certainly had no desire to see him again. He was arrogant, obnoxious, and dangerous. But if she had any luck remaining at all, they wouldn't cross paths.
    Because he'd never know he had an extra passenger.
     

 

Chapter Three
     
    Wedged inside the stardrive casing, Sabin made adjustments as Radd provided specs and monitored the readouts. Sabin couldn't hear the hatch tones from there, but he figured he had at least half an hour   before Moriah was strong enough to attempt to slip out.
    He fully expected her to try. Having spent his life adapting to every possible existence imaginable, he'd learned to land on his feet by whatever means necessary. He was a survivor, first and foremost. He recognized that same trait in Moriah. It would be very difficult to bend her to any will except her own. The beep of the subspace transceiver interrupted his musings.
    "Hey, Sabin, communicator's beeping."
    "I hear it, Radd." He squirmed from the tight confines of the casing. "It's probably McKnight. Answer and tell him to hold on."
    He wasn't at all concerned about Radd answering the transceiver or knowing the identity of the caller. The mechanic was known for his discretion, as well as being a person of very few words.
    Sabin squeezed out in time to hear Radd saying, "Naw, he's fine, Chase. He just didn't call ya back because he was taking care of a woman he brought on board. Here he comes now."
    Great. So much for discretion. Sabin glared at the young man who, outside discussions of propulsion systems and fuel replenishment, had never uttered more than three words at a time. He'd sure turned into a talking echobird all of a sudden.
    "Gee thanks, Radd," Sabin snapped, coming around the console.
    "No prob." Radd stepped back with his usual guileless expression, although his eyes held a mischievous glint.
    "Travers here," Sabin barked at the intercom. He didn't bother with the viewscreen. Chase never used them.
    "Where are you? Did you catch Galen?"
    "Not that lucky, old man. He got away, and my stardrive went out. I'm on Calt. Radd's working on the drive right now."
    "So who is this woman you brought on board?" McKnight questioned. "A felon?"
    "Not exactly."
    "She's not a prisoner, then?"
    Sabin hesitated. "No."
    “I've never known you to be desperate enough to approach a Calt female. Have the Pleasure Domes begun making ship calls?"
    "Very funny. For your information, the lady had a Jaccian tentacle wound. I was just helping out."
    "Is she all right?" McKnight asked.
    "Yeah. She came around pretty quickly."
    "You need to sterilize the wound, and if it's deep, apply sutures—"
    "Whoa! Hold it right there, partner," Sabin interrupted. "I don't happen to have a fancy ship like you do, with that high-tech lab you're always so secretive about. I don't