Naomi felt the blood hit her face before her ears registered the sound of the gunshot, before her brain could interpret the meaning of Sematimba's jerking collapse to the deck of the Roci.

He was dead. Amos had killed him.

Her eyes moved numbly up to her old friend's face. As calm as if they were just sitting down to breakfast. "You say we wait, so we wait, boss."

She barely heard him. She could barely move. A good man lay on the ground in front of her, a man who had just helped them all escape. Emotions were high, they were all feeling desperate, but he wasn't going to shoot that gun he had been pointing at her. He had just been helping her survive a few minutes ago.

"I'm going to go put this below."

At first, Naomi didn't even realize what Amos was talking about. "This." The man. Sematimba. Who was dead. Who Amos shot. Who Amos shot because he was threatening her. Who Amos had just been agreeing with, but then he chose (using the only means he ever chose) to back Naomi's play. It was a cruel twist on who they used to be to each other. He didn't wait for her choose whether he pulled the trigger this time, but then he talked like he was just following her orders.

She couldn't get past the next thought: did that mean she was responsible?

Episode One: Dulcinea

"Naomi. How's the Knight looking?"

"She is one leaky lifeboat, but she should make it 50,000 clicks through vacuum."

"All right. Then you're on board."

Naomi's anger flared at the presumptive XO's words. It was bad enough the Cant was taking a detour and losing this haul's bonus to check out an obvious pirate trap. Now she had to stick her own personal neck out? But it was a direct order. She felt like she was being punished for being so competent.

She banged her way down to the machine shop for supplies, already prioritizing a list of things that needed doing to get the ship's neglected shuttle ready to fly. It was hard to keep her thoughts organized, when all she wanted to do was scream warnings at anyone who would listen. There was no way this mysterious ship with its generic distress beacon was as innocent as it appeared. She knew what desperate people were capable of, and pirates working this far away from the Belt were as desperate as they came. This was a terrible, terrible idea. One she hoped wasn't going to cost them all their lives, just to save the company a lawsuit. If she ever found out who logged that call…

"What's the problem, boss?" Amos asked when Naomi busted into the shop. One look at her glowering face and he put down what he was working on, gave her his full attention. Something in her chest loosened.

"Some do-gooder logged that distress call. Cap says now we're obligated to respond; they're plotting the burn right now."

The burly mechanic crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

"He put that idiot Holden in charge of the 'rescue' mission. They're taking a team down on the Knight when we get there."

"What a shit show. Is the Knight even ready to fly?" Amos growled.

"Barely. We've got a lot of prep to do." She paused, then let the hammer fall. "Holden put us on the shuttle crew."

Of course she was bringing Amos with her. He wouldn't have let her go without him, not somewhere even close to risky. But she gave him the order rather than letting him volunteer, so he could be the one to say "motherfucker" and "screw that Holden guy" and all of the other cursing complaints she wished she could dwell on. Which freed her mind up to prepare for the mission as efficiently as possible.

"This is Holden," came the hated voice over the shipwide comm. "We've logged a distress call…" Amos locked eyes with Naomi in the solidarity of anger as they listened to the announcement. "…we're obliged to change our course and respond, this will be a high g maneuver." Amos started cursing under his breath as the two of them pulled the emergency crash couches down from the wall of the shop and started to strap in. "…prepare for flip'n'burn."

Naomi didn't see Amos express many emotions, but he could always be counted on to rage for her. His running string of obscenities let her mind calm and sharpen. Finally she could see in her mind exactly what the Knight needed. As the g forces rose, Amos fell silent. The effort it took to move one's tongue and mouth stymied casual conversation, and the silence left Naomi alone with her thoughts.

She didn't feel alone, though. Amos' presence always seemed to soothe her. She used the down time to ponder why that was. He had been her assistant on the Cant for years now, her right-hand man. Shipping with someone that long could create a deep intimacy, even if the relationship was entirely professional. Naomi didn't like to let people get too close to her, didn't want anyone digging into her past. Amos wasn't like that; he seemed entirely content to stay in the here-and-now. Standing at her side, ceding to her better judgment. She had kept him out of trouble more than once in their time together; he had a frightening propensity for violence if she didn't keep him in check.

When Naomi thought too hard about it, it was a little weird the way she just told Amos what to do, and he just did it. She tried to explain it away as just their professional relationship, but it went deeper than that. Even outside of the work they did together all day, he followed any directive or suggestion she put out there. It wasn't like she was his mother, and it wasn't the servile obedience of someone hoping to get into her pants. Amos never seemed to be trying to impress her, or really get anything out of her, other than maybe the calm that comes from knowing someone else is in charge. Someone competent, trustworthy, someone who was usually right. It was intoxicating to see herself though his eyes in that way.

She was aware some of the other crew thought they were sleeping together. Sometimes she wondered if she should do something about the way he was always in her orbit, but most of the time she didn't give a fuck what people might be saying. Amos made her life better. She seemed to make Amos' life better. He seemed to crave a controlling hand; she liked the emotional safety of being in control. It was the most intimacy either one of them could tolerate. That was enough.

And when the fear of what they might be flying into crept up her throat, you better believe she was glad she was going to have the big man at her back.

"Can't figure out why Cap would put you in charge of this little excursion." Naomi couldn't help but lash out at the man whose order had landed her here. While she had said the Knight was ready to fly, she was really only confident of the barest minimum of life support and navigational functions. In the last hours before launch she was still jerry-rigging comms and swapping out ancient pieces of the environmental controls for slighty-less-ancient ones. Who knew what Holden was doing over there.

"He still thinks he's grooming me for bigger things," he replied conversationally as he fiddled with a control panel.

"Then he's wasting his time." She pulled the venom at the last second, but she meant every word. Holden was impulsive and unreliable, and she would not have chosen him for command.

"That's what I keep tellin' him." Holden didn't seem to realize she was insulting him; he responded like she was sympathizing with his lack of career ambition.

Well, if it was sharing time, Naomi might as well vent some of her true feelings as well. "If your girlfriend logged that distress call, she's going to be living it down for a long time."

He gave a pained look, which satisfied Naomi for the moment. She turned back to her work.

"I did it."

That was a surprise. After he had been the one to order the logs purged? She turned to look at him, disappointment and disgust writ large on her face.

Holden didn't shy away from her gaze, letting her see the torment his conscience was causing. "I just couldn't shake it."

Naomi felt a twinge of compassion, maybe guilt, but she held firm to her rage. "I'd keep that to myself if I were you," was the nicest thing she could make herself say. She wasn't going to retaliate, but she knew plenty of people on the Cant who wouldn't show such restraint. Their bonuses were gone for sure, and more importantly their lives were about to be at risk. Anger felt a hell of a lot better than fear, and anger loved a target.

The arrival of the rest of the crew broke her chance to say anything further. As they grumbled their way to their posts, the would-be could-be XO shot Naomi a look like a kicked dog. It said you're not going to tell anyone, are you? Naomi made sure to keep her face hard as she packed up her tools, not giving him an answer. Let the man sweat a little more. He deserved to feel bad about what he'd done.

"So just for the record, guys," that annoying medic Shed piped up, "I don't want to be here right now."

"Me neither," she heard Amos reply under his breath, "but here we are. One big, happy, unit."

The big man's tone reminded Naomi exactly why she was going to keep Holden's secret. She told herself she wasn't afraid of the anger under that usually calm voice, that no matter what happened she would be able to keep Amos in hand. But she decided in that moment there was some information she was not going to be sharing with her friend until they were safely docked at Ceres station. When Holden would have somewhere to run.

The Scopuli was dead. Big hole in the side, fully vented, no chance of any survivors waiting to be rescued. No signs of hidden pirates. Naomi started to let go of the worry that had been building in her chest since the first ping of the distress signal. Show's over, nothing to see here.

"Take us in," Holden commanded. Everyone stiffened, considered mutinous thoughts. Why was that even necessary? Their acting XO finished up his orders, then heaved a sigh. His conscience must be so very fucking heavy. "Alright, I'll go and poke around."

Naomi looked up at Amos pleadingly, emotions momentarily clouding her better judgment. If you want to cause a problem now, I'm with you, her eyes said. Please, can't we just be really immature about this?

Amos shook his head in response, and her stomach sank at his next words. "I'll go with him."

She was so angry to be standing here, ushering Holden and Amos out of the Knight's airlock. Not only furious, but powerless, which only made her more enraged. This risk was not necessary; and now they were going right into the belly of the beast, in their flimsy EVA suits and one old rifle between them. It was only fitting that Holden would be going, to reap what he had sown, but Amos was standing there too, the only person she really cared about on this rustbucket. He looked up at her as the doors closed, wearing that calm and receptive face that made him look about five years old. Awaiting instructions. Don't get yourself hurt, and don't hurt the fucking XO, she tried to beam at him before the airlock slammed shut.