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locator ID in an attempt to slip by us. They obviously weren’t looking for a fight they couldn’t possibly win, just trying to put us out of commission long enough to get away. Must have heard our reputation of confiscating human cargo. They missed the weapons system.”
    “Did you get a shot at them?”
    “No, we didn’t fire. Even a smal blast would have blown the poor buggers apart.”
    She knew he referred to the slaves, not the slavers. Having been one himself, with the scars both inside and out to prove it, Eldin had little sympathy for those who traded in human flesh—and maybe too much for the slaves themselves. “Might have been more merciful,” she suggested.
    “Probably.” Eldin sighed. “Just couldn’t do it. Where there’s life there’s hope.”
    “How long for repairs?”
    “Four or five hours.”
    “Do we know who they were?”
    Eldin shook his head. “I didn’t recognize the ship: a smal , older ranger-class model, held together with spit and a prayer. No markings. Can’t hold more than a crew of three, along with ten or twenty slaves in the hold.” Shy sighed. Unfortunately, running slaves was stil far too easy, especial y out here. Few outer-world governments cared, and even fewer did anything to stop it.
    The slave trade was huge both in the outer worlds and in Consortium space.
    Though Earth and its colonies had banned it, many other worlds stil used slave labor. And so long as the slavers didn’t break any other C.O.I.L. laws, the Consortium didn’t see fit to interfere.
    “Any idea where they were coming from?”
    “No, but Terle tagged them with a locator beacon. Looks like they’re headed toward that shit-hole, Verus.”
    Only someone desperate to unload their human cargo would land on Verus.
    Sel ing a slave there was barely worth the trip. Inhabitants of the resource-destitute desert planet were scum: criminals, mental cases, those unwelcome anywhere else in the outer worlds. Few women lived there, and those who did rarely lasted very long.
    “Damn.” Shy rubbed a hand around the back of her neck. Her head ached where she’d hit it against the ladder. “We’re behind schedule, and we’ve already got enough complications.” She looked down at Greyson, who eyed her with interest.
    “What do you want to do?” Eldin asked, as if he didn’t already know.
    She couldn’t ignore this problem, but she didn’t need another drain on her already waning resources. “Get going on the repairs. Send a message to Able and Damon to rendezvous with us behind Verus’s fifth moon.”
    “What about him?” Eldin glanced at Greyson. “Want me to take a look at him?” Shy shook her head. “No. I’l take care of him. Bear, help me get him to the med bay.”

Chapter Three
    Greyson winced as Bear gripped his uninjured arm. He flexed it and groaned. He was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated. When he tried to look, the pain made him nauseated and light-headed. Stil , he said, “I don’t need to go to med bay. I’m fine.”
    Shyanne glanced over her shoulder at him and muttered something that sounded like “Men…”
    Bear’s hand tightened in warning. It didn’t look as though he had a choice.
    Greyson sighed and let the giant help him to his feet. Dark spots blurred his vision.
    Maybe a sling and a few painkil ers wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He fol owed meekly.
    When they got there, Shyanne pointed at the room’s examination bed. “Sit.
    You can go, Bear.”
    The man glared at Greyson, then nodded and left the room. The door slid shut with a soft snick.
    Greyson sat on the edge of the bed and watched while Shyanne moved around the wel -stocked and organized medical bay. Though the rest of the ship might be showing age, the equipment here was state-of-the-art and more than adequate for even the most delicate surgery.
    Shyanne came to his side to help him pul down the top half of his flight suit.
    When she probed the tender flesh around the swol en joint, he flinched