Chapter 20: Wren Gets a New Gig

Val's deflector shields are apparently set to 'maximum vague.’ Sometimes, silence just lets other people write your entire backstory for you.

Last Week on The Signal…

Wren needs some help on how to be stealthy.

Read Chapter 19: Wren Exposes Herself

This Week…

"Since when do you have crew?"

Val barely glanced up from the manifest, the briefest of pauses before he answered, carefully even, "I don't."

"Damn, Koren." The dockworker's eyes took a slow, appraising trip up Wren's body, lingering a little too long. But it wasn't the scrutiny she'd braced for—the look that meant alarms and capture. This gaze dragged over her like she was merchandise. Her internal alarm downgraded from 'imminent capture' to 'ugh,' but instead of relief, it just brought an angry flush creeping up her neck.

"You've still got good taste. Where'd you pick her up?" She was suddenly, intensely aware of the borrowed fabric against her skin—too loose here, pulling too tight there. Better his eyes crawling over her than an Argus weapon in her face. She resisted the urge to fidget with the collar. "Bit old, but still pretty."

Piece of shit. "I can hear you, rust-licker."