Page 176 of Seven Oars
He shook his head gravely.“Thilza and I have tried many times.”
Her shoulders slumped. The station was doomed, and the end was nearer than any of them had anticipated.
Fincros didn’t miss her slump.
“I told you not to give energy to Phex, and still you ignored me.”
“I didn’t ignore you, Fincros,” she said, also tired.“But I can’t just watch him die.”
“He wasn’t about to,” he said tersely.“He’s already out and about, clashing with Esseh.”
“I’m sorry.” She was, for spending herself on someone who didn’t appreciate it and evidently didn’t even need it.“Phex’s been part of us since the beginning. A captive.”
Fincros moved his wide shoulders, restless.“He still is.”
“I know he technically is, but is that how you see him?” She turned to face him, probing for answers.
As usual, his face was unreadable.“That’s how he sees himself.”
His words made her even sadder, because she agreed with his assessment, at least in part.
“To us, he was a protector,” she said reflectively.“Whether he really was or it was our wishful thinking, I’m not sure anymore… Why did he try to turn us away from the trade routes? To go where?”
His attention wasn’t on her. She knew he could see her with his superb peripheral vision, but it was his way of avoiding an argument.
“Finn?” she prompted when he wouldn’t say anything more.
“Back to the galaxy edge. The warp, where no man goes. Where there’s… nothing.”
He turned his head a fraction, and the weight of his stare got heavy. Too heavy for her today.
She dropped her eyes.“I see.”
But almost immediately, she looked back up.“You can’t hide in here forever. Can’t he see that? This Tutti situation… This station’s old. And the food’s running out.”
Fincros grunted.“Guess he doesn’t care.”
She dropped her eyes again.
“It was our failed attempt at sending a distress signal that broke him,” she said.“After Sassa…”
She cut herself off as her eyes fixed on Finn’s scarred face, her heart cracking all over again.
It was finally there between them: Sassa’s pale fingers grasping the golden panel, Finn’s powerful, final swipe…
“It was a slaver ship,” he said, his tone wooden.“Phex knew the risk of revealing our station to them. He made a bad decision.”
Rosamma gripped the end of her braid so tightly her fingers cramped.“What was he supposed to do, as a captive?”
“Wait,” Fincros said simply.“Flagging that freighter was a suicide mission. If he wanted to go down with guns blazing, that was his choice. He wanted us, the pirates, dead—fine. But you, all of you, Rosamma…” He had to stop, his hard, cold facade slipping, giving her a glimpse of vulnerability.“You may not think there’s a fate worse than staying on Seven Oars, but there can be.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
“True torture. Harvesting your tissues for food and profit, piece by piece. Your defender didn’t care about that. But I couldn’t let it happen.”
Rosamma’s chest ached with a gnawing, restless tightness.
“We didn’t realize that,” she whispered, but Fincros’expression was impenetrable once more, the cracks in his facade sealing shut.
