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trusted. After all, she had known about the location for almost two years and had said nothing. All of which was true, so it was easy to project those feelings.

The admiral said, “The name of the individual?”

Captain Stone told her without hesitation. Then she said, “You will find he died in the spaceport on the smaller continent of Palmer, a few weeks after we paid him off and escorted him from our ship. I heard the death was over-use of drugs.”

The admiral nodded. I had no doubt she would follow up on the story and also find what Captain Stone told her was true. She said, “The owner of the ship you arrived on has asked when and how it may be returned.”

Captain Stone glanced my way. Then she said, “I was hoping to depart here and go directly to Heshmat where my ship is waiting for me to rejoin it.”

The eyes of the admiral told me her next statement was important. She squinted slightly, her stomach seemed to tighten, and her posture became rigid. “And after that?”

The question was put to Captain Stone as if it were casual, however, I suspected it was anything but. Captain Stone never flinched. She said, “I have accumulated enough credits to take a few chances and lose. Not that I’m wealthy, but a loss or two isn’t going to put me out of business. To answer your question directly, I don’t know.”

“There’s more you have not said.”

“The cargo intended for delivery on three planets intrigues me. It is biological, you say. Depending on what else you determine, I may go exploring in the vicinity where the cargo originated, out on the rim of the human sphere. I was thinking of trying to locate advanced technology like the ability to follow a ship in a wormhole to buy. I may have to change my plans.”

“Because the gel is biological?”

“Yes.”

The admiral sighed. I pushed more warm waves of trust her way. She finally said, “What you find there may be of critical interest to me and our war effort. A single discovery could sway the course of the war.”

“Weapons?” Captain Stone spat as if trying to rid herself of a bad taste.

“Perhaps. But there are many other things, especially technologies that can help us. Are you willing to accept an assignment and work for my government?”

“I am not,” Captain Stone said coldly. “However, I maintain a network of business operatives and partnerships. Your business is war. Mine is acquiring a second ship, which means successful trades to support it.”

“You are suggesting a partnership of some sort? That’s not the sort of arrangement a military commander enters.”

Captain Stone stood and went to the food cart where she selected a tube of baked dough with red cream oozing from one end. She sat again, closer to the admiral, I noticed. Then she said, “Sure you do. Instead of bank credits, you earn weapons and ships by purchasing them. You tell a steel mill that if they provide a certain grade of the metal sheeting you need, you will deposit a predetermined amount in their corporate account.”

The admiral said nothing.

Captain Stone ate the end of the sweet roll and then wiped her mouth and said, “You want technology or weapons. I want a larger bank account. Perhaps your shipyard could construct a ship to my specifications in return for the information I bring to you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

Captain Stone

 

The captain glanced at Kat and curled her forefinger to signal the girl to stop attempting to influence the admiral’s decision. She had been trying to sense the empath’s work and had felt nothing, despite being an anti-empath. That bodes well. However, she wanted to take no chances the admiral detected the effort.

Kat was a mere beginner with no training yet had been able to use her powers without revealing herself to one who knew or suspected she was doing it. The admiral was no fool. It seemed Kat was a natural empath, skillful, if untrained. Her efforts seemed to have worked because the admiral was now negotiating about working together.

The captain understood that if she found innovative technology, there might be better markets with higher profits to sell it, but there are also advantages to having a cargo already sold before entering orbit. It takes time to find buyers, and that wasted time delays the next voyage and another transaction. That delay may cost more than the difference in any profits.

The admiral also understood the advantages of technology unknown to the Devonian Empire, her enemies. She abruptly stood as she indicated her left ear with a pointed finger. “Please forgive me, I’m being called to a crisis. Remain here.”

Kat said nothing, but her brow furrowed, and she looked uncomfortable.

Captain Stone sipped tea. Her imploring eyes met Kat’s as if by accident. She raised her cup, and as she did, her hand covered her mouth. She hissed, “We need Bert. Privately. Chance must not be allowed to talk.”

Kat seemed to have been thinking along the same lines. Empaths were hated. There were laws. A few sentences from Chance could mean her death. Any hope they had of working with the Bradley Concord would evaporate like dew from the grass on a summer morning.

In the silence that followed, a tiny but identifiable sound caught their attention. A ping. So soft that others might not hear or pay attention, but more than enough for them. Bert was letting them know he’d accessed the comm system on the planetoid. He was listening to everything.

If their cabins were monitored as they expected, the conversation about Chance had been heard. The admiral knew he was involved with the smuggling of the gel and the murders. He might already be in her custody.

There was no way to ask Bert without betraying

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