"The Gol-Vett," Burk said. Not surprised. "Right on time."
"I won't ask again."
"I just need something from her," Burk said, almost reasonably. "She gives it to me, we're done here. Nobody gets hurt."
Stron's gaze went to Adryel. She was watching him with those eyes that saw everything, and underneath the fury he could see her working the situation. Calculating. She wasn't panicking.
Good. Don't panic.
"I don't have it," she said again, this time for Stron's benefit as much as Burk's. "I'm telling both of you. I don't have it on me."
"Have what?" Stron asked.
"A data chip," Burk said. "She's been carrying evidence against my employers since Kerde. I want it back."
Stron looked at Adryel.
She met his gaze and said nothing.
Which told him everything and nothing at the same time.
"She doesn't have it," Stron said. "So we're done here."
"I don't believe her."
"I don't care what you believe." Stron took one step forward. "You have three seconds to take your hands off my mate."
He didn't wait for three seconds.
He moved.
The maintenance level was narrow, lit by strips of emergency lighting that threw everything into harsh yellow shadow. Pipes ran overhead, sweating condensation onto the floor. The air was thick with ore dust and something chemical that coated the back of his throat. Not the kind of place anyone was meant to fight in.
Stron didn't care.
He closed the distance fast, grabbed Burk's weapon arm and yanked it away from Adryel's side, shoved her clear with his other hand in the same motion. She hit the wall behind her and stayed on her feet — of course she did — and he turned his full attention to Burk.
Burk was good. He didn't freeze. He pivoted, drove an elbow hard into Stron's ribs, and created enough space to swing.
Stron took the hit across the jaw. Felt it crack through his skull. Tasted copper.
He came back harder.
They collided into the wall of the tunnel, pipes rattling and groaning overhead, water dripping from somewhere in the dark above them. Stron got both hands on Burk's collar and slammed him into the metal once, twice. Something behind Burk's head hit a pipe on the second impact and he made a sound that wasn't quite human.
His weapon clattered to the floor and skidded into the shadows.
Adryel didn't run. He caught her in his peripheral — back against the far wall, out of the way of the fight, eyes tracking everything. Smart.
Burk got a knee up, caught Stron in the thigh, and twisted free with the efficiency of someone who'd been trained to get out of bad situations. He dropped low, going for the weapon on the floor.
Stron pulled the knife.
Dhomhes's knife. Weighted and certain in his grip, the blade catching the yellow emergency light as he leveled it at Burk.
Burk stopped.
Looked at the knife. Looked at Stron.
