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Intact.”
    â€œWe’re a long way from Cres territory,” Jalia argued. “It would take at least three more jumpship transits.”
    â€œRight now time is irrelevant,” the Cres said smoothly, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in her voice. “Getting clear and avoiding attention is paramount, even if it takes more than a cycle to reach our destination.”
    Jalia’s lips pressed together in a thin line. This was big, bigger than big. And that amount of credits would change her life forever . . . if she survived to cash in on the deal.
    â€œWhat happened to the Morrin freighter?” she demanded.
    The Cres’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “It was the ship carrying our cargo. A squad of mercenaries boarded the ship four days ago, which we repelled and captured. When we turned them over to Gorovan security, they insisted on searching the ship for others, as well as any sabotage. We cooperated up until they demanded to search our cargo, which we staunchly refused. Then they attempted to finish what the mercenaries had begun. When they failed, they decided to destroy the ship to deny us the cargo.”
    â€œHow?” Jalia asked.
    â€œWe think they slipped explosives into the ship when ‘searching’ it the first time, then remotely detonated them later. Four crewmembers were killed, along with two of my ­people. The rest of us were off the ship at the time.”
    â€œAnd the firefight?”
    â€œAfter the explosion, security forces moved in and tried to pick us up. They were unable to do so.”
    â€œAnd your cargo?”
    â€œThe priority piece was never on the ship. We hid it in the jumpship as soon as we arrived.”
    â€œDo they suspect?”
    The Cres tilted her head to the side. “It is possible. They may have destroyed the ship to deny us our transport. It is irrelevant at this point.”
    â€œIt’s relevant if they come after my ship,” Jalia noted, holstering her pistol. “We have a little over twelve kips until arrival. When and how do you plan on getting this cargo here?”
    â€œAfter the bay doors open. As soon as we are aboard, we must leave. To do otherwise would invite more trouble.”
    â€œYou can say that again,” Jalia echoed. “You plan to shoot your way through security?”
    â€œIf we must. A clandestine transit would be preferable. Do we have a deal?”
    â€œMethod of payment?”
    â€œYour preference,” the Cres offered generously.
    â€œAlright, I want 100 credits transferred into my crew’s accounts immediately. There are five. I won’t risk them on this gambit, which means I’ll have to strand them here. I want to make it worth their while.”
    The Cres nodded. “Easy enough.”
    â€œI also want 1,000 credits transferred to clan Kella, verified before we leave. The balance can be paid upon completion of the transit.”
    â€œDone,” the Cres agreed quickly. “Remain with your ship. We’ll come to you.”
    â€œHow many of you are there? And how big is this cargo? I assume it’ll fit through the airlock?”
    â€œFive. And yes.”
    Jalia frowned. “You lost a lot in the firefight then?”
    The Cres cracked a humorless smile. “We didn’t lose anyone, save for the two on the ship when it exploded.”
    â€œYou beat back security with five ­people?” Jalia asked, impressed.
    â€œThree actually,” she said, walking off. “The other two are watching the cargo.”
    Jalia let her go, suppressing a whistle of appreciation until she returned to the Resolute . Gorovan had hundreds of security personnel onboard, and while she doubted it would deploy all of them to one location, they had surely sent dozens, if not more, to the docking area. The rumored combat prowess of the Cres had not been exaggerated.
    At least I’m on the winning side, she thought, sealing the hatch behind