Alex’s arm hurt. Tristan had barely given him time to bandage it before they both set to bring everything in. The Samalian didn’t let him slack off, he’d growl anytime Alex slowed to take a breath or give his arm a rest. He wanted to complain about Tristan’s unrealistic expectations, but he’d noticed the Samalian’s own injuries.

What exactly had happened in his absence? He couldn’t imagine Tristan hunting for food, not when they had plenty of supplies, so had the animal attacked the camp? He suspected that this was part of something he’d planned. Had getting injured been a way of getting closer to Emil?

And why had Alex’s heart skipped a beat when he’d noticed the lines of sealant on the Samalian’s body? He…he didn’t know what this was, but it certainly wasn’t a situation where he should be feeling something for the alien. When everything but the dead animal was in, and the fire had been buried, they took off. 

As angry as he was, Alex expected Tristan to just blast through the atmosphere, not caring about the sensor grid, but he still zigged and zagged to avoid triggering it. Once they were out of the gravity well, the ship accelerated.

Alex watched their sensors and listened in on the net to find out if they’d been seen leaving. Someone on the shuttle watcher network had seen them, and conversations were rampant; theorizing why they’d been there.

There was nothing about the woman who’d showed up at the broadcasting company. What was her name. He did a quick search on the net and through Luminex’s employee records. Katherine, that was her. Katherine Silt. He made a note to find out more about her when he didn’t expect Tristan to rip him apart at any moment.

He’d expected a report from the local Law about her. Mercs weren’t well liked because they had a habit of causing a lot of damage they then flew away from. They should have arrested her. Even if she’d shot her way through them, they would be reports, and bounties. Nothing.

No, there was one thing. They now knew he was working with Tristan. Masters hadn’t mentioned that. His bounty had been only for the Samalian. If someone at the station had noticed, updated the bounty, they would have known about it when they arrived.

She had told them.

And they had believed her. What did she have?

The Samalian was busy searching for something. A planet, based on the quick succession of them Alex could see flipping by and the screen. They weren’t there long enough for him to make out any of the information. He used Tristan’s distraction to grab his bag and take out a couple of immune boosters and apply a proper layer of sealant over the cut skin on his arm.

When he went back to his seat Tristan looked at him with an even, cold, stare, but he didn’t say anything. He turned back to his board, and a moment later a file appeared on Alex’s screen.

“Leak the message to the mercs,” Tristan said without turning. “Don’t let them trace it back to you.” Then he was busy with.

Alex had a flash of anger at the implication he’d do something that sloppy, but he pushed it down. He looked at the file, a constructed message from Tristan to Masters about where they would meet to hand over the boy. There was anger in Tristan’s voice, and agitation he’d never seen him display. The message showed a man who had been run ragged and was close to the end of his rope. The background was rocky, in browns and gray, and looking up the planet’s name, Artus One, he found it was a desolated rock that had once been home to multiple mining companies, but had been abandoned for over a century.

With his earpiece in he went through the net. He located mercs communication hubs and slipped the file in them with a delayed trigger. He erased any trace he’d been there as he left.

He’d almost disconnected from the shuttle's computer when he decided to see what Tristan was doing. He wrapped his presence in five layers of code to hide it, then added three more to be safe. He found Tristan’s board and the connection to the net he was using. He sent an obfuscated probe along it. It went through nine different communication hubs, and in each of them the connection bounced around more time than Alex could count. Anyone trying to follow it from the other direction would get lost.

He found Tristan within a government database on a midrange planet, surrounded by four programs that were diverting inquiries and antibodies. While they did that, the Samalian was adding information in. Alex was surprised to realize he was creating an identity from scratch.

Alex glanced at the alien’s back. He was building an identity, not co-opting an existing one, and he’d written programs that were able to handle the system, without ever listening to it.

How long had it taken him to learn how to do that? How had he learned to do it? No school he’d ever heard of taught deaf coding? He only knew of one other person who did that, and she was a natural coercionist who had taught herself how to code.

Until he’d seen Asyr work, Alex hadn’t thought he was possible to coerce a system without listening to it. He’d known plenty of coercionists who didn’t talk back to them, but they all had to hear how the system responded to what they did.

And now here was another who worked deaf.

He watched as Tristan added line after line of information and mixed in code among it. He built a history for it and then sent a program to link that history to matching points elsewhere on the net.

Alex had to fight the urge to grab that program and dissect it. He wanted to see how it was built, how it differed from Asyr’s programs. Hers had a strong base on his, since he had introduced her to coercion. How did someone who didn’t hear the systems go about building such a program if he didn’t base it on a preexisting one?

As much as he wanted to stick around and watch him work, Alex pulled back, double-checking he hadn’t left any indications he’d been there.

He glanced at Tristan’s screen, watching the code scroll as he worked. He was too far to make it out, but he was amazed at how quickly he worked.

Alex wouldn’t be able to work that fast if he didn’t have his earpiece. He’d be crippled without it.

A few minutes later the scrolled code slowed, then stopped. Alex watched as Tristan backed out of the database. How did he know what to adjust to remove traces of his presence? Alex could hear it in the system’s voice when it was back to smooth.

Asyr hadn’t been able to tell him. For her it had been instinct. Somehow he didn’t think Tristan did anything on instinct.

The Samalian stood and stretched, and Alex couldn’t take his eyes of the rippling fur and the muscles underneath. “Is it done?”

Alex nodded. “Over the next two weeks, the message is going to appear throughout Merc Hubs. They won’t be able to trace where it came from.”

“Good.” Tristan walked by him and Alex followed.

Tristan stopped, and before Alex could react he spun and grabbed him by the neck. Alex’s reflex was to fight off the grip, but he knew how futile that was.

“Let’s make something clear, Alex. Your screw up cost me important equipment for this job. You claim I don’t need it, that you can turn my shuttle’s computer into a processing system. You’d better not be lying to me about that.”

Alex spoke before he could stop himself. “I’m not the liar here.” 

The Samalian smiled. “You might not have lied to me, yet. But you’ve lied. You wouldn’t have made it this far telling the truth.”

Alex glared at him. He shouldn’t be surprised that someone like Tristan thought only lies could get things done. Yes, Alex had lied, but not to hurt people. He’d never hide the knife he was planning on sticking in someone’s heart. He made his intentions clear. 

Unlike the Samalian.

“I can do it.” He put every ounce of confidence he could muster in that statement. He shoved aside that all he knew about camera information processing was what he’d begun reading since coming back, or that he didn’t know how specialized of a system was required to do that.

“You’d better, because there is a lot riding on this as far as you’re concerned.” The Samalian let go of him and indicated the cryo chair. “As soon as you come out of cryo you’re going to start working on the computer. Make whatever changes you need so long as they don’t affect my ability to pilot. It will not be a friendly space by the time we get there.”