Lyle finally decided it was late enough to vacate his hotel room.

Abdullah sat in the common eating area where enlisted men took their meals, down in the belly of the beast. He was sitting arm to arm with men well below his rank and station aboard the Capital Class warship Denigen’s Fist.

“Which Casino do you want to hit next?” Beck asked as they found their way back to the main thoroughfare. Jack shrugged, pleasantly tipsy and enjoying the atmosphere. The lights, the music, the action. He felt like dancing, like months of excess stress were being scraped away.

Maven leaned against one of the pillars in the gaudy throne room Darius had set up, listening to her sister Alyssa and Darius argue and bicker like a couple of angry schoolchildren.

Victor waited outside the office building of Markwell, leaning against a car and tapping his fingers against the hood. It was the middle of the day, but on a weekend so there were very few cars in the parking lot. His was in a back corner, tucked out of sight.

Jim stormed into the little corner bar in the brewery district called the Blue Daisy in a foul mood. He needed a drink to take his mind off of just how bad his life had become.

Lyle hadn’t expected it to be so hot.

Vivian set the digital book down on the copilot’s chair when the comm rang through. Her feet were propped up on the terminal of her little ship, and she was beginning to feel sleepy.

“Did you get the peyote?” Beck asked.