question.
"Shirani are the trading and shipping arm of House Arleon in Sa'adani space. We were one of your first trade contacts, initially in the Corvus subsector, later in other Confederacy systems."
Reva downed a chunk of pepper-roast and chased it with a drink. "That sounds like legitimate trade." The unspoken question was, how did Lish get from that into smuggling?
The Sa'adani woman wasn't biting. She skipped ten years of personal history, and simply said, "IntSec won't arrest me because of my family ties."
"Are you saying the Empire doesn't care what kind of crime you're running if you're well-born enough?"
Lish quirked a smile. "Well... yes, actually. Usually."
"I haven't heard of the Bugs holding back. Even when big names are involved."
"They like to clean up in this sector, but never when high-caste is involved. At least, not publicly."
"Maybe you're overlooking something," Reva pointed out cynically. "You've lost that caste mark. Maybe they think you're just another CAS Sector bottom-feeder. If they come in blasting, you could get in the line of fire as easily as anyone."
Lish let the bottom-feeder jibe go and shook her head. "That can't happen," she said, gesturing with a yellow radish. "Once they know my family connections, they're bound by law and honor to treat me like the Rus'karfa I am."
Reva was taken aback by the woman's sincere tone. "You really believe that, don't you?"
The Sa'adani looked surprised at the question, and Reva shook her head in exasperation. By the Sea Father, this woman was naive! In this business, it would surely get her killed.
The conversation wandered then, by mutual consent, a break from the intensity of the last hour. Lish revealed no more about her background, and Reva even less. The pair enjoyed small talk, another bottle of wine, and a long game of castle-stones.
While they played, Reva studied the smuggler. Lish was unaware of the attention, bent over the board, biting her lip with the intensity of her concentration. She had a fine-boned beauty about her, accentuated by the firelight. A full lower lip, red highlights from the embers shining in her blond hair...
The assassin felt the strings of attraction, and thrust that thought from her mind as quickly as it surfaced.
Business and pleasure do not mix, came her rote reprimand of self. Besides, I don't have time for relationships. They make you vulnerable. Good way to get close and kill someone.
She knew; she'd used the pose of intimacy more than once to do her work, with men and women alike. Lish was neither threat nor target, but the habit of reserve that kept Reva alive was not something she was about to set aside over one firelit dinner.
Don't waste time thinking about it, she told herself sternly. That's what sex-shops and quick pick-ups are for.
She forced her mind away from that line of thought, and considered the other reasons why the smuggler intrigued her. Lish wasn't too ready to listen to common sense, that was for sure. It was an irritating trait.
She thinks she knows how things will play out. Short-sighted, short-sighted...
It made Reva wonder if anyone could save another from herself. No one had been able to do it for her. It would be a waste of time to try it with Lish.
But she's so damn much like me, stubborn, cocky—a younger, stupider me....
Again and again, Reva saw the woman's flaw illustrated in the way she played. She was too confident, too trusting in the routine way of doing things. Toward the end, when the assassin played her own variation on the Moat Gambit, Lish followed with the traditional response. Consistently she overlooked the small variables that indicated an outcome other than what she expected.
She's smart, and she's trying hard, Reva thought wryly, but she needs someone to jar her complacency. Someone should teach her the error of her ways, before she ends up dead.
A silent headshake accompanied the thought.
Why's it have to be you, Reva?
Well, you know it's not going
"Shirani are the trading and shipping arm of House Arleon in Sa'adani space. We were one of your first trade contacts, initially in the Corvus subsector, later in other Confederacy systems."
Reva downed a chunk of pepper-roast and chased it with a drink. "That sounds like legitimate trade." The unspoken question was, how did Lish get from that into smuggling?
The Sa'adani woman wasn't biting. She skipped ten years of personal history, and simply said, "IntSec won't arrest me because of my family ties."
"Are you saying the Empire doesn't care what kind of crime you're running if you're well-born enough?"
Lish quirked a smile. "Well... yes, actually. Usually."
"I haven't heard of the Bugs holding back. Even when big names are involved."
"They like to clean up in this sector, but never when high-caste is involved. At least, not publicly."
"Maybe you're overlooking something," Reva pointed out cynically. "You've lost that caste mark. Maybe they think you're just another CAS Sector bottom-feeder. If they come in blasting, you could get in the line of fire as easily as anyone."
Lish let the bottom-feeder jibe go and shook her head. "That can't happen," she said, gesturing with a yellow radish. "Once they know my family connections, they're bound by law and honor to treat me like the Rus'karfa I am."
Reva was taken aback by the woman's sincere tone. "You really believe that, don't you?"
The Sa'adani looked surprised at the question, and Reva shook her head in exasperation. By the Sea Father, this woman was naive! In this business, it would surely get her killed.
The conversation wandered then, by mutual consent, a break from the intensity of the last hour. Lish revealed no more about her background, and Reva even less. The pair enjoyed small talk, another bottle of wine, and a long game of castle-stones.
While they played, Reva studied the smuggler. Lish was unaware of the attention, bent over the board, biting her lip with the intensity of her concentration. She had a fine-boned beauty about her, accentuated by the firelight. A full lower lip, red highlights from the embers shining in her blond hair...
The assassin felt the strings of attraction, and thrust that thought from her mind as quickly as it surfaced.
Business and pleasure do not mix, came her rote reprimand of self. Besides, I don't have time for relationships. They make you vulnerable. Good way to get close and kill someone.
She knew; she'd used the pose of intimacy more than once to do her work, with men and women alike. Lish was neither threat nor target, but the habit of reserve that kept Reva alive was not something she was about to set aside over one firelit dinner.
Don't waste time thinking about it, she told herself sternly. That's what sex-shops and quick pick-ups are for.
She forced her mind away from that line of thought, and considered the other reasons why the smuggler intrigued her. Lish wasn't too ready to listen to common sense, that was for sure. It was an irritating trait.
She thinks she knows how things will play out. Short-sighted, short-sighted...
It made Reva wonder if anyone could save another from herself. No one had been able to do it for her. It would be a waste of time to try it with Lish.
But she's so damn much like me, stubborn, cocky—a younger, stupider me....
Again and again, Reva saw the woman's flaw illustrated in the way she played. She was too confident, too trusting in the routine way of doing things. Toward the end, when the assassin played her own variation on the Moat Gambit, Lish followed with the traditional response. Consistently she overlooked the small variables that indicated an outcome other than what she expected.
She's smart, and she's trying hard, Reva thought wryly, but she needs someone to jar her complacency. Someone should teach her the error of her ways, before she ends up dead.
A silent headshake accompanied the thought.
Why's it have to be you, Reva?
Well, you know it's not going
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