Tight together in a hidden corner of the storage decks, the former ship's captain and I conspired for the lunar colony's slave rebellion. I said. "I got it, but how do I know this isn't a trap?"
"I give you my word," he answered solemnly. He smelled like engine-room rum.
He was notoriously wily in negotiations. Regardless, I had no better choice than to trust him.
I tested his trustworthiness soon after.
He'd spoken truth all the way through. He distracted the officers. I overrode the external locks for the escapees to dock.
The new captain hadn't changed his password.
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alt="Neuroluxe Implant no 3Z82M99B64 by Bryanna Botham"
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alt="Blindly Following Orders by Chris Tattersall"
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