In the Corporation Rim, everything has to be owned by someone.

I was getting an idea. It was probably a bad idea. (When most of your training in tactical thinking comes from adventure shows, that does tend to happen.)

I didn’t know what I was going to do now, if I was going to go ahead with my plan or not.

Indah did not look pleased. Mensah’s mouth twitched in an “I would like to say things but I am not going to” way.

I pulled a transport connection and pinged it with a salutation. It pinged me back with a salutation. (This is not how it’s supposed to work, there’s usually an answer protocol, even if it’s in a different language.)

Knowing what would happen, she wouldn’t choose a different planet, a different bond company. Because then SecUnit would still be someone’s property, would be waiting for the contract where the negligence or greed or indifference of its clients got it killed.

Human words, there’s too many of them, and I don’t care.

“Are you two talking?”
“Yes.” I had to look at the wall now.
Amena was still worried. “Are you fighting again or are you making up? Because it looks exactly the same from the outside.”
We’re making up, ART told her.

I was starting to panic. I didn’t want ART to be hurt, and anything that could hurt ART could destroy me and Amena.

If you had to take care of humans, it was better to take care of small soft ones who were nice to you and thought you were great because you kept preventing them from being murdered.

I made a gesture I was hoping she would interpret as “Please don’t tell them I’m lying.”

“You didn’t have to shoot anyone.” Heat crept into Thiago’s voice. “If you needed supplies, we would have given them to you.” Don’t worry, the “anyone” who got shot was me.

HelpMe.file Excerpt 1 (File detached from main narrative.) Since I’d decided to stay (temporarily) on Preservation Station, Dr. Mensah had asked me to go places with her seven times.