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head. It hardly gave her any anonymity, he'd hate to tell her. With a body like that and those gemstone eyes, she'd stand out in any crowd.
    "Until tomorrow, Captain Havoc."
    "G'bye, princess.” He let her slip out the door, then laughed softly to himself when it shut. Elion would have his ass in a sling when he dropped this on him. Least he'd got a hot kiss and a copped feel out of it.
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Chapter Two
    "No, no, and no.” Without even looking at Kels, Elion shoveled his breakfast of eggs and cheese into his mouth. If he looked at his captain, he'd give in, and there was no way he would back down on this one.
    "C'mon, El. At least wait till you meet her. She's quite a looker."
    "You mentioned that already. Several times,” he said drily, risking a sideways glance. Kels sat beside him with his coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, his thick hair ruffled as if he'd just fallen out of bed—which was likely—his shirt open roguishly at the throat, and his eyes filled with stars. Elion knew that look. When it came to pretty girls, Kels's otherwise-keen brain took a dive into deep space. “If she's so fixed on hitching a ride, why isn't she here yet? It's past ten-hour."
    But Kels had focused on something across the room, and Elion's stomach sank when Kels waved to the latest being to enter the noisy tin-walled cafe. Kels grinned at him. “Y'see? There she is, and it's exactly ten-hour, I'll have you know."
    Elion grumbled and hunched over his meal. Duck eggs, again. Why had ducks had to prove so amenable to off-world breeding? What he wouldn't give for a fresh piece of fish. Or steak. Or tofu, to be honest. On their limited budget, it'd been nothing but duck for days. He turned, spork raised, to remind Kels of their farking financial state, but he'd already gone to greet this woman, this impoverished waif his softhearted captain truly needed to turn down.
    Slouched, he watched as Kels embraced her. Yeah. She was a looker, as promised. Crack. Shiny ebony hair, naturally red lips—lush, of course—fetching eyes, and a body to kill for. He'd heard all about the skin suit she'd worn last night. Today she'd abandoned that in favor of sleek fawn leather pants, boots, and a tight-fitting green blouse that set off the forest tones of her eyes. Elion sighed. How could he compete with that?
    Hand at her back, Kels herded her to the table. She grinned, and Elion's mood got a little more gravelly.
    "Good morning, sir,” she said, smiling uncertainly, and held out her hand.
    "Yeah.” He kept chewing and gave Kels a “you've got to be porking me” look.
    Kels trumped that with a “mind your manners” glare, and Elion gave her a limp hand to shake.
    "This is Sayal Iluma,” Kels said, pulling out a seat for their would-be passenger. “Sayal, this is—"
    "Elion Andervaars, first mate,” she said, interrupting. “Former lieutenant of the five hundred forty-fourth squadron, Terran Armada, Omega system. Wounded in the Battle of Aleppo, discharged with full honors."
    Kels dropped into the seat next to Sayal. “Told you she'd done her research."
    Elion sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable booth. “It's a little suspicious, isn't it? She knows so much about us, but we know nothing about her."
    Kels quirked a shrug. “Not our business, if she's going to be a passenger."
    "And a gamespartner.” Unsmiling, Elion arched a brow at the woman. “Want to elaborate on that, Ms. Iluma?"
    "I believe that's business between your captain and me,” she replied, visibly cooling.
    "If it involves my boss, it's my business too.” He jerked his thumb at Kels. “We're partners, get it?"
    "In everything?” she asked, then took Kels's coffee and sipped from it, the bold brat. Elion felt unrighteous possessiveness rising in him. He'd never liked Keeva, and here came another one, elbowing her way right in. She wouldn't be easy to dump; he could see that right away.
    "Sometimes,” he muttered, leaning forward on his