They t in the lobby at eight-thirty, freshly showered after Chris's morning run. Everyone still looked wrecked from the rodeo and the honky-tonk bar Emily had found afterward. Danny was moving slower than usual, one hand on his stomach. Zoe had dark circles under her eyes but was clutching a massive coffee. Ryan kept yawning.
"I regret every bite," Danny announced. "And every shot."
"Worth it though," Chris said. He was the only one who looked fully awake, which was deeply unfair. "Zoe's line dancing was worth the price of admission alone."
"We agreed never to speak of that," Zoe said.
"Where's the eting?" Ryan asked.
Emily checked her tablet. "We're eting four guys and two girls. Compatible science paths. We might be getting so cowboys on the crew. A place called Lone Star Brews. Microbrewery in Midtown. The team's called the Roughnecks. "
"A brewery?" Chris perked up. "Now we're talking."
"It's nine in the morning," Joey said.
"It's a eting. At a brewery. I'm not seeing the problem."
Luca nodded. A casual spot, neutral ground, the kind of place where adventurers actually hung out. This was how recruitnt was supposed to work. Beers and conversation, not conference rooms and corporate pitches.
The drive to Midtown took fifteen minutes. The brewery was in a converted warehouse, all exposed brick and industrial fixtures. A chalkboard sign out front advertised sothing called a Poutine Flight alongside the beer nu.
The sll hit Luca the mont they stepped inside. French fries. Cheese curds. Gravy. His stomach growled loud enough that Emily heard it.
"We just ate ten thousand calories yesterday," she said.
"That was yesterday. This is today."
They walked past the foyer and found the patio was empty this early, chairs still stacked on tables, but the kitchen was clearly running. The poutine sll intensified. Luca was already planning his order when a man stepped out of a parked SUV and intercepted them.
"Captain Rossi?" The guy was maybe forty, wearing a blazer that didn't quite hide the shoulder holster underneath. Corporate security, if Luca had to guess. "There's been a change of venue. The Roughnecks had a scheduling conflict. Mr. Ashworth would like to et with you at headquarters instead."
Luca stopped walking. "Who's Mr. Ashworth?"
"CEO of Orion Horizons." The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The Roughnecks are one of our affiliated teams. Mr. Ashworth heard you were eting with them and wanted to take the opportunity to speak with you directly. He's a big admirer of your work."
Emily's hand found Luca's elbow. A warning touch.
"We're here to et a field team," Luca said. "Not executives."
"I understand, sir. But Mr. Ashworth is very eager to et you. He's cleared his entire morning." The man gestured toward the SUV. "It's just a few minutes away."
Luca looked at his crew. Ryan's jaw was tight and Zoe's eyes had gone flat and assessing. Chris looked like he wanted to punch sothing.
Walk away now and never find out what this was about. Or go along and see what Orion Horizons actually wanted.
"Fine," Luca said.
The man's smile flickered. "Of course, sir. I'll lead the way."
---
The Orion Horizons lobby was all cold marble and an aggressively pointless waterfall. A woman in a crisp suit t them at the elevator.
They rode up in silence. When the doors opened onto dark wood and oil paintings, Luca knew this had been a mistake.
"Through here," the woman said, gesturing to double doors.
No sign of the Roughnecks. No cowboy hats in the hallway, no field team waiting to shake hands.
Luca pushed them open.
They arrived at a conference room with a long table, expensive chairs, a spread of water bottles, and nothing else. No coffee, no pastries. Definitely no poutine.
Three n sat at the far end.
It definitely wasn't the Roughnecks or a field team. No four guys and two girls who seed totally compatible on paper, wearing cowboy hats and spurs.
"Captain Rossi." The man in the center stood and extended his hand. He was maybe sixty, with silver hair. His accent was pure Texas, slow and deliberate. "Victor Ashworth. CEO of Orion Horizons. It's a genuine pleasure to et y'all. This here's Martin Dell, our CFO, and Samuel Keane, Director of Operations. Please, have a seat."
Luca didn't take the hand. "Where are the Roughnecks?"
"Ah." Ashworth's smile didn't waver. "Schedulin' conflict, I'm afraid. They send their apologies. But we figured, since y'all were already comin' out this way, why not take the opportunity to speak directly? Executive to executive."
Executive to executive. Luca was twenty years old, still slled like yesterday's barbecue, and his stomach was demanding poutine.
Emily stepped up beside him. "That's not what was arranged," she said politely.
"Plans change, darlin'." Ashworth gestured to the chairs. "Please. We won't take much of your ti."
Luca saw Emily's jaw tighten at darlin'.
He sat. The others spread out along the near end of the table. Ryan positioned himself closest to the door. Chris took the seat with the best view of all three executives.
"Water?" Ashworth offered.
"We're fine," Luca said. His stomach growled again. He ignored it.
Ashworth nodded like he'd expected that. He steepled his fingers on the table.
"I'll be direct, Captain. The Triumph Initiative is impressive. Your charter completion, your success in Alpha Centauri, your... unique equipnt." His eyes lingered on Emily for a mont. On her neck. "Y'all have accomplished things that most adventurin' companies only dream about."
"You bid on the Alpha Centauri charter," Luca said. "A year ago."
Ashworth's smile flickered, then widened. "That we did. Sotis you raise, sotis you bluff." He spread his hands. "We raised. Karen called our bluff. Can't help but admire a strong woman."
Luca waited. There was always a but.
"But you're seven people." Ashworth spread his hands. "Seven talented people, certainly. But seven nonetheless. And from what I hear, you're spendin' your ti on a recruitnt tour. Flyin' city to city, etin' with teams, hopin' soone wants to leave Earth bad enough to sign on with strangers."
"We're doing fine," Luca said.
"Are you?" Ashworth leaned back. "How many teams have said yes so far? Five? Ten?"
Luca didn't answer. The number was closer to zero confird, with a handful of maybes.
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"Orion Horizons has two thousand and sixteen level-60 adventurers on payroll." Ashworth let that sit for a mont. "Eighty-three of them are under twenty-five. Hungry. Ambitious. The kind of folks who look at the sky and see a door." He smiled. "Sound familiar?"
It did. That was exactly what Luca had been looking for in Puerto Rico, in Chicago, in every city on their tour.
"We could transfer eighty of them to your company," Ashworth continued. "Pre-vetted. We'll train them for extended operations. Engineers, scientists, dical staff, security. Whatever mix your crew needs."
The CFO, Dell, slid a folder across the table. "Full roster breakdown. Professional paths, combat certifications, psychological evaluations. All suited for extended interstellar operations."
Luca didn't touch the folder. But he noticed Danny shift forward slightly. Emily's hand found his under the table.
"And the equipnt." Ashworth's gaze swept the crew. "I understand you've been placin' orders across the country. Manufacturing equipnt, furniture. All very... bootstrap." He said the word like it tasted strange. "Orion has partnerships with every major scientific instrunt manufacturer on the planet. PhDs on staff who've spent four years studyin' portal-origin tech, portal behavior, stability patterns." He nodded at Danny. "Your science officer would have access to resources most universities can't dream of."
Danny's jaw tightened, but Luca saw the flicker in his eyes.
Ashworth's attention shifted to Ryan and Chris. "Full workshop packages. Fabrication bays. Vehicle rigs rated for dropships to heavy armor." He smiled. "I hear y'all bought so saddles yesterday. Orion could give you sothin' worth puttin' 'em on."
Ryan's fingers twitched against the table.
"And navigation." Ashworth turned to Zoe. "We have invested in our cartography division, mappin' the Oort Cloud passages. The closest hundred star systems within twenty light-years. Barnard's Star. Wolf 359. Sirius. Tau Ceti." He let that sink in. "We've patented the surveyin' technology, Miss Woods. Those passage maps don't exist anywhere else."
Zoe's face stayed flat, but Luca caught the slight tension in her shoulders. A hundred systems.
"And here's the part that might interest you most." Ashworth leaned forward. "You're scheduled for, what, two more months of this Victory Tour? Paris, Geneva, Buenos Aires? Shakin' hands with UER officials, smilin' for caras, pretendin' you're grateful for bureaucrats who didn't lift a finger to help you get to Alpha Centauri?"
Sothing cold settled in Luca's chest. Because Ashworth wasn't wrong.
"Orion Horizons doesn't owe the UER anything," Ashworth said, his drawl making each word longer than they had any right to be. "Neither do our affiliated teams. We're independent, you see, just like the IFC. You sign with us, that tour disappears. No more photo ops. No more performin' for politicians who'll take credit for your success. You could be back on that ship of yours by next week, preppin' for launch instead of shakin' hands."
The whole table felt different now. This wasn't the hollow pitch Luca had expected.
Which ant they wanted sothing worth all of it.
Zoe was the one who broke the silence. "What do you want in return?"
Ashworth's smile didn't waver. "The Triumph of Darron would operate as Orion Horizons' flagship. Ownership restructured, but operational control stays with your team."
"And we'd want priority access," Ashworth added, his voice softening. "To whatever you find out there. First look. First bid. That's all."
That's all. Luca glanced at Ryan. His best friend's expression was carefully blank.
He was about to refuse when Ashworth held up a hand.
"I can see you're not convinced." He stood, walked to the window, looked out at Houston's skyline. "Cards on the table, Captain. I'm gonna be honest with you."
He turned back. Sothing real showed through the polish now. Frustration. Or hunger.
"Orion Horizons has spent four years and two billion dollars on Venus. You know what we've found?" He spread his hands. "Nothing but overheated portals and bits of TL8 technology we can barely identify, let alone replicate. The UER's been sittin' on that first FTL drive since it was found, and they're no closer to understandin' it than the day they bought it."
Luca said nothing. But he was listening now.
"anwhile, you seven—" Ashworth gestured at the crew, "—you flew to Alpha Centauri and back. You ca ho with a ship that wasn't the ship you left in. Technology nobody on Earth has ever seen." His eyes drifted to Emily's neck. To the pendant. "And you're about to do it again. Bigger crew. Longer mission. Whatever you found out there..."
He walked back to the table. Leaned on it with both hands.
"We want first dibs."
"First dibs," Luca repeated.
"At auction. Whatever technology, materials, or discoveries you put on the auction block: Orion gets right of first refusal. We match any bid, we get priority access to licensing agreents." Ashworth spread his hands. "You sell to whoever you want. We just get to see it first."
Dell slid another folder across the table. "In exchange, Orion would provide a fifty-million-credit annual research grant. No strings. Plus priority access to our Mars excavation data, everything we've found, everything we've learned about System-era technology."
Excavation? That was new. Luca hadn't heard of anything being found on Mars.
"And personnel support," Ashworth added. "Not a rger. Just... consulting. Engineers, scientists, specialists. On loan. They work for you, report to you, and when the mission's done, they co ho." He paused. "No ownership gas. No restructuring. Just a business relationship between two organizations that want the sa thing."
The sa thing. Luca doubted that very much.
But he had to admit, stripped of the rger bullshit, this was closer to a real offer. First refusal at auction wasn't unreasonable. Research grants weren't unreasonable. Even the personnel loan had a certain logic to it.
The problem was everything else. The way Keane kept looking at Emily's pendant. The way Ashworth had pivoted so smoothly from rger to partnership. The Roughnecks, who were supposed to be at that brewery and sohow weren't.
Luca didn't respond. Just let the silence stretch.
Ashworth's expression hardened. The polish cracked, just for a second.
"We can reach Mars. Venus. The Belt." His voice dropped. "But the stars? That's y'all. And whatever you found out there."
There it was. The truth beneath all the polish.
Orion Horizons was stuck. They had money and resources, everything except the one thing that mattered. And Luca's crew had it. Had flown it to another star and back while Orion was still delving Venus portals, hoping to find a third miracle.
They were offering anything, everything, to stop being left behind.
"We understand interstellar travel puts strain on families," Keane said, speaking up for the first ti. His voice was low, and his eyes didn't blink enough. "Orion maintains certain... security arrangents for the families of our affiliated teams. Your folks in New Hampshire." He paused. "They'd receive the sa protection our other partners enjoy."
Emily's grip on Luca's hand tightened.
It wasn't a threat. Not technically. Just an observation. An offer. But the way Keane said it, the way he let the silence stretch after...
Luca looked at his crew.
Danny was still eyeing the folder while Ryan's fingers twitched against the table. Zoe's shoulders remained tense, and even Emily's grip had loosened. The Victory Tour weighed on all of them.
It was a good offer. Parts of it, anyway. Stripped of the ownership gas, stripped of the Roughnecks disappearing and Keane's unblinking stare, stripped of everything that made Luca's skin crawl... it was a genuinely good offer.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? You couldn't strip those things away. They were the offer. The equipnt and the personnel and the star charts were just wrapping paper around sothing else entirely.
"We need to discuss this," Luca said. "As a crew."
Ashworth's smile widened. "Of course. Take all the ti you need."
"Not here." Luca stood. "We'll be in touch."
The smile flickered. "Captain, I really think—"
"We'll be in touch," Luca repeated. "Thanks for your ti."
Ashworth stared at him for a long mont. The mask slid back into place, but it didn't fit quite right anymore.
"That's disappointin'." He straightened. "Space is dangerous, Captain. Long expeditions. Supply chains. All those complications I ntioned." He glanced at Keane. "Sotis partnerships beco more attractive after folks have had a chance to think about it."
"What challenges?" Emily asked. Her voice was ice.
Keane's gaze moved to her neck again. To the Varnathi pendant, silver-white tal with geotric patterns that didn't exist in any human database.
"Everyone's watchin' y'all, Ms. Berrow. You're hotown heroes. New Hampshire's finest." He let it sit there. "Your families must be mighty proud."
"Interestin' piece," Keane added, nodding at the pendant. "I don't recognize the craftsmanship. Local artisan?"
"Gift shop," Emily said flatly. "Alpha Centauri has great gift shops."
Keane's expression didn't change. But he kept looking at the pendant for way too long.
Luca stood. "Thanks for your ti."
Ashworth rose with him. "The offer remains open, Captain. We're patient folks. And like I said, space is dangerous. Sotis folks need ti to appreciate what we're offerin'."
"I'll keep that in mind."
They walked out. Down the hallway, into the elevator, through the marble lobby with its pointless waterfall. Nobody spoke until they were on the sidewalk, Houston heat hitting them after the aggressive air conditioning.
---
"What the hell was that?" Ryan's voice was low and furious.
"That was a threat." Zoe's jaw was tight. "Wrapped up in equipnt and star charts, but still a threat."
"They ntioned our families." Danny's voice was harder than Luca had heard in months. "New Hampshire. That wasn't small talk."
"Eighty adventurers," Chris said quietly. "Scientific equipnt. Navigation data. All of it just... sitting there." He shook his head. "They really thought we'd bite."
"They're desperate." Ryan crossed his arms. "No wonder they're throwing everything at us."
Emily was still holding Luca's hand. Her pulse hamred against his palm.
"The Roughnecks," Luca said quietly. "The team we were supposed to et."
Everyone looked at him.
"Six people. Three years running portals in the Gulf. They were supposed to be at that brewery, and instead we got dragged here to listen to three executives talk about how dangerous space is." He looked back at the glass tower. "So where's the team?"
Chris already had his phone out. "I can make calls. So of the guys at the cook-off yesterday might know them. Gulf region's a small community."
"Do it."
Luca stared at the building. Sowhere up there, three n in expensive suits were probably already planning their next move. They'd tried the soft approach. Crew, equipnt, and freedom from the UER.
"We need to find out what happened to that team," Luca said.
Emily squeezed his hand. "You think Orion did sothing to them?"
"I think a team we were supposed to et conveniently had a 'scheduling conflict' right when Orion wanted us in their building." He shook his head. "That's not coincidence."
Yesterday they'd been happy. Eating barbecue, buying boots, talking about building a future where people could have cook-offs and rodeos and stupid argunts about brisket.
Today, soone had made it very clear that future wasn't guaranteed.
"What do we do?" Danny asked.
Luca turned away from the building. "First, we find the Roughnecks. Then we figure out exactly what Orion Horizons is willing to do to stop us from recruiting."
His stomach growled one more ti. They never did get that poutine.
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