By six in the evening, the loss report was compiled. Three employees monitored the market, buying up ships Kirin had flagged—so long as they stayed under her cost ceiling. Ramon had gone to unwind at his favorite bar with the big screen and colleagues. What started as a nuisance escalated into ship losses and casualties—but ended in victory when the attackers had nothing left to throw at them.

  Buy up everything.

  Ramon wouldn't be her husband if he didn't know exactly how to please her. Other men had come into Kirin's life, but few. They both knew her feelings and respect were unshakable; fidelity wasn't defined by a night elsewhere. She leaned back in her chair, tenderness and gratitude washing through her.

  Buy up everything.

  Never had she heard a better declaration of love. Only someone grasping her nature, goals, methods—who honored her trader skills and trusted her completely—could suggest it seriously. Ramon likely never doubted solvency—no reason to. Even if loans failed or funds fell short as years ago, he knew: Kirin would find means, end in black. It thrilled her. What they'd done today—what they could do—lit a fire in her.

  Daytime lingered; business unfinished. She'd spoken with Matias yesterday, summoning him "on business." Happy to see sisters, he'd carved time between shifts, flown over. Now, time for daughters' opinions on the new deputy security head. Called minutes ago; waited in relaxed satisfaction and anticipation. Unlikely to confirm doubts about his youth, army expulsion hobby. But perhaps they'd seen what she couldn't—indescribable nag prompting "get acquainted" request.

  Hearing voices, Kirin stood. Athra and Una had reached the waiting room together but weren't hurrying to enter. She approached the door and listened.

  "Mom gathered vicinity brigs in twenty minutes—right at peak mess! Boxed them in!"

  "Father get exercise?"

  "Oh yes! Climbed from Leader, palms trembling," Una laughed. "Idemi great, oriented fast. Nearly peed when battle ship order came. Forgot sociologist-historian," palm covered mouth, cracking up. "Serious! Grabbed controls—battle! Other way around."

  "Idemi?" Athra surprised.

  "Yeah, met on Perina. Cool."

  "Idemi cool? Turtle hibernating. Flat, one-dimensional—frozen."

  "Not frozen, Ath? Walking iceberg! Give Markus fight ticket to your thawer."

  Athra joined laughter.

  "Met someone recently. Today too. Nice."

  "Nice? Withstood you over ten minutes?"

  "Two hours talking, no less."

  "Talking what?! Normal person topics with you, Athra? Tell me, did you scare him off yet?"

  "Stop."

  "Who's nice acquaintance?"

  "Honestly, don't know. Obvious: French roots, Earth, Tobias Le Cheron. Lives not entirely legally—dodged details."

  "Nice despite? Vacuum around you—any dick stringing words, not ridiculed first pair—old maid chance?"

  "High opinion, sis," Athra smirked.

  "Come in already?" Kirin opened door.

  Waited daughters enter, returned desk.

  "Una, not that from you again."

  "What specifically, Mom?"

  "Old maid, such."

  "'Body with dick' okay?"

  "Una!"

  "Clarified meaning... handle big guns well!"

  "Sit. Both."

  Athra smirked; Una grinned thirty-two teeth.

  "Alright," Kirin palms on desk. "Praise you, Una—but unsure now."

  "Done," younger waved.

  "What man, Athra? Should know?"

  "Not yet," older shook head. Gaze confirmed.

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  "Markus?"

  "Friends, Mom. Were, remain."

  "Hope he shares... position. Fine. Idemi assignment? Report."

  "Overheard door bit," Una began, mother's displeasure, sister's elbow. "Eye him, thought young. Opportunity: great, nice," palms stretched Athra-ward, borrowing term.

  "Don't clown," Athra laughed.

  "Responsive, kind—no arrogance. Sweet. Reminds someone. Poach for corp if not ours. Looker," sideways sister glance, eyes rolled. "No, not Athra-fireproof."

  Kirin saw no seriousness today, but report satisfied.

  "All? Thanks, dear," nodded. "Go if want. Father at bar."

  "Hint taken!" Una rose, bowed, spun 180, left.

  Kirin shifted her gaze to her elder daughter.

  "I think we were talking to different people, Mom."

  Kirin smiled. Her daughters differed sharply. Una took after her mother; Athra drew more from father and grandmother—Kirin's own mother. Athra had keen intellect but lacked Una had always been able to read people; Athra read systems. Kirin trusted Una had sized up Idemi—guts and all—on Perina. Unmentioned details didn't matter. Mocking phrases revealed more to Kirin than to her sister, matching her own new-hire impression.

  "More details, sweetie."

  "Found him in tea room after the meeting. Alone. No surroundings influencing…"

  "Darling, your meticulous analysis fascinates, but—what do you think of Idemi? Brief, direct."

  "He distances from me intentionally. Analysis again, but: different model with you/Una vs. me. Obvious. I'm no pilot, gunner, mechanic, guard— not his kind. Una has license; I've flown only shuttles on autopilot."

  "Alright, Athra," Kirin clapped unenthusiastically, stood. "Good too. Fixated on role, blind to your beauty and intellect dominating his circle? Competent employee. You complement perfectly, dear."

  Signal heard, Kirin checked interface, read message.

  "New acquaintance name?"

  "Tobias Le Cheron?"

  "Contract tossed: hulls, equipment to corp. Meaning?"

  "Brought hauler to sell; asked hold orders. Don't know contents."

  Kirin raised thoughtful gaze, smiled affectionately.

  "All good, dear. Rest. Tomorrow."

  Elder gone, Kirin raised screen projections and opened the market. Assistants monitored new ship/component orders; she took corporate buys. Past six, call incoming.

  "Darling, join us?"

  "Yes. Twenty orders, then free."

  Soon finished, left office.

  Ramon's table always reserved. Locals knew Amatins by sight. Kirin visited rarely; Ramon unwound nightly.

  Matias's arrival brought Kirin to Perina, but soon more flights, longer station stays. All three young Amatins born there. Longing and guilt tore her then. She'd chosen space over them, again and again. The guilt was an old wound. She and Ramon decided: planet-raised, their choice. Matias's departure certain.

  Kirin knew children fueled Ramon. Not givens like hers—body, personality extensions. Natural growth, traits obvious. Absurd coldness accusations. They, husband understood fullest.

  Ramon saw miracle-gift. Hard days—Perina descent, remind: capable of these lives, traits, energy—capable anything. Post-planet Ramon: titan, familiar, clear-minded, boundless, unstoppable.

  Kirin entered the bar, spotted his thick black hair. A sad smile touched her lips: her children would never see in this kind, sluggish, smiling miner the man who had forged respect and fear in equal measure.

  "Mr. Ramon," she said softly.

  His eyes sparked. That old name meant old secrets, old hungers—soon to be satisfied. Ramon smiled as the owner greeted her and pulled out a chair.

  Benches: Ramon plus old comrades managing fleets—Carlos Rivera, Thomas Underwood. Idemi unsurprising. Beside him, whiskey cradled tea-like: Liana Felston, whose fleet arrived to smoldering hulks. She and Carlos ancient comrades—his pilots her green-years school/family, fifteen years back. Kirin's left, opposite Liana: Edgar Solushen, eponymous corp founder, now Liana's private security.

  "Third Fleet," Kirin smiled, shoulder-touching Edgar friendly.

  "Good see you, Kirin," smiled back.

  Kirin adored voice. All did. When Edgar spoke, women melted. Beautiful singer, rare. Eyes closed for fullness; looks mismatched. Short, dark Spanish, deep eyes, predatory hook-nose. Attractiveness: voice, diplomacy. Silver-tongued Gomel legend charmer—hypnotizing, decision-shifting, corp/faction-steering.

  Kirin knew Liana once head-over-heels; now dust-buried hopes. Attractive, explosive-tempered explosive-tempered but knew when to rein it in. Disharmonious couple likely. Fate denied test—Edgar never women-interested.

  He lived next door, near the main thoroughfare. Idemi didn't turn on lights. Wall screen glow sufficed—no furniture collisions. Kirin settled on sofa; Idemi perched behind, on backrest.

  "May I?"

  "Huh? Yes, of course." Kirin offered pack. He lit up.

  "Mrs. Amatin, I reviewed today's logs—recognize one commander's ID attacking Mr. Ramon's fleet."

  "What?"..."God damn it. Certain?"

  "Absolutely. Flew with him twice. First: asteroid colony unrest. Second: region outskirts skirmish. Ugly one. My mother mentioned: attacked companies end up under Sonytook.Alliance management. 'Rumos's Foundry' may follow."

  "Wait. Rumos's Foundry to Sonytook.Alliance? Your parents' deaths not accidental?"

  "Operate on facts. Guesses not forte—but can share."

  "Damn! What do we do?" Rhetorical question; answered simply:

  "Grow stronger, smarter, farsighted."

  "Lifetime short for eng-corp competition, Idemi."

  "Only if you see yourself as a loser from the start.”

  "True—attacks continue, not just mining."

  "Will."

  "Speak."

  "Survive, preserve corp? Create your Alliance. Step beyond their power, space, grasp. Equal—or superior. No need centuries, millions. Just step beyond bounds."

  "What bounds, Idemi? Without their resources?"

  "Reason, honor, tech, territory. Civilization, humanity. Known, prepared. Alex Firs did—now interstate conglomerate. Started physics report."

  "Rare. Not us. Amatin Mining can't compete long, if ever. Husband's decision reason? Ex-infantry mechanic, disgrace-discharged—to deputy security..."

  "Like your son..."

  "Faultless?"

  "Very," smiled.

  "Your hobby doesn't match your character. I rarely misread people."

  "Hobby worries?"

  "No nonsense! Markus one—we have... met?"

  "Una mentioned. Not yet. It was never a job, just a hobby."

  "Exactly. Calmness—mother's? Kicked for MESMD fights, video last straw... dance. I'm wary of irreconcilable contradictions."

  "I don't know what to tell you, Kirin," kind smile, rose, stubbed cigarette. "Studied me well. Check all new hires?"

  "Positions uncoordinated with me. First case. Competencies... mismatch."

  "Afraid it will tarnish Amatin Mining with MESMD dance? Possible. Assemble rigs, fights—not organize, participate—likely. Duties struggle—definitely, no lie."

  "No reassurance planned."

  "Mrs. Amatin: critical moment, lifelong-known man offered help. Accepted. But I'm me. Unlikely change essentials."

  "Why familiar?"

  "Can't help," paused. " I'll apply my strength and professionalism to justify Mr. Ramon's trust. I can't promise more than that."