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I pulled up the log and scrolled through the details. Every spike, temperature swing, and anomalous reading was time-stamped against the hours the Dead Stick crew had been there. The pattern was unmistakable. Did the Hollow Chorus want them off, or did she want them to stay and fix her? She sure as hell didn’t want me touching her.

My uncle’s voice echoed in my head when he discovered I’d offered on the ship. You bought a mistake. Don’t be surprised when it objects to your company.

As I’d gotten older, Navarre’s disapproval of my choices had increased. I was too stubborn because I’d refused a position in the family business, choosing tactical operations in neutral zones to maintain peace rather than office negotiations.

I’d regret not following his lead, he’d told me. The family commerce enterprise was a perfect fit for me.

Except it wasn’t. The work would dull my fire. I needed to be exploring, learning, meeting other adventurers, and stopping conflict. Sealing deals in boardrooms wasn’t a skill I ever wanted.

Navarre despised me for trying a different path, and lately, he’d been less discreet about hiding that feeling.

The comm chimed again. This time, it was an alert in a space I hadn’t been able to access, no matter how many codes I’d entered. Whatever was behind that sealed room freaked me out. Bangs, hums, voices from out of the walls. It was as if all the freaky crap the ship owned lived in that space and seeped out to scare the pants off anyone who stayed for long.

Well, sweetheart, you can scare me all you like, but I’m staying. And I will learn all your secrets.

I pocketed the comm and pulled my boots on, hair still damp from the shower.

The walk to the yard where the Chorus sat took five minutes at my pace, long enough for the chilly morning air to clear whatever the shower hadn’t.

Eden Shore smelled clean and crisp, with rows of high-ticket craft docked on exclusive bays that looked out over water. It was a sweet place to store a ship.

I came through the yard gate, and there she was.

Cass sat cross-legged beside the Chorus’s hull, a scanner propped on one knee, a coffee in one hand, her dark hair damp and pulled off her face so it didn’t drop into her eyes while she worked. She had her free hand against the ship’s exterior, the way she’d touched it yesterday, proprietary, like the hull was hers.

Irritation lifted my shoulders. That was my ship. But as I stood there, the ship pulsed warm gold under Cass’s hand. It looked... happy.

I stopped walking. The Chorus had never done that for me. Not for any of the crews who’d tried and failed to settle her. In four weeks, she’d fought, screamed, dropped temperatures, thrown voices out of walls, and booted me through an airlock.

Hollow Chorus hated me. But she liked Cass.

She looked up, the scanner still running, and her eyes tracked me the way they tracked everything, fast and thorough and done before I was ready.

“Morning. You slept,” she said.

“I did. Thanks for the room.”

“All part of the service you’re paying for. Your ship missed you.” She turned back to the hull. “And she’s been busy. I’ve got new readings.”

“I know. I got the alerts.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re watching over her.” Cass’s fingers moved along the hull, tracing something I couldn’t see from where I stood. “She’s not broken. Broken ships stay quiet, but this one’s getting louder. She has something to say. How hard have you been listening to her?”

“I always listen.” I stepped closer and caught the scent of citrus underneath the coffee. “What’s she saying to you?”

Cass pulled her hand away and looked at the gold residue on her fingertips. She sniffed it, shrugged, and scanned it. “Not sure yet. Your ship is trying to talk to someone, but I don’t think it’s you. Have you ever wondered if she just doesn’t like you?”

“Every female likes me.”

She snorted her answer.

“I’m likeable!”

“You’re something.”

A hum started, and the entrance ramp lowered. A section of plating shifted inward, slow, grinding against itself, and behind it amber glowed in the dark, deep in the ship’s interior.

Cass stood, her attention on the scanner. “Hey! Will you look at that? HC opened a secret door for me. Proof positive she doesn’t think you’re her guy. How’s that for rejection? Pretty ouchy, huh?” She was already scrolling through the readouts.