"If there's anything that wretched pile of circuitry can still do," Tarrant added under his breath. He caught the corner of the bulkhead as he went past, and grabbed for the open door of the compartment. "Out!" he snapped, leaning in to where Sethi crouched, studying the wall of circuitry in front of him. "I know where it is, now!" He waited as the other pushed past him, then dived into the cramped space and knelt, studying the array. "At least in general, I know where it is," he said softly. "Damn!"

"What?"

"I'll need Orac. Get it, will you?" Fingertips tracing the main channel into the transponder unit, he flipped the roll of tools open on the floor beside him, and reached for a circuit probe. "It's a question of pulling out just enough, not destroying all of it."

"You've been anticipated." Sethi reappeared in the doorway, Orac in his hands, bent to slide the computer to the floor, and backed up fast enough to collide with Dayna, as she pushed for a glimpse past his shoulder.

"Good!" Testing the probe's lance against the edge of a circuit panel, Tarrant began slicing the cover from the main processor case. "Orac, as soon as I have this open, you can start telling me exactly what I do and don't need to burn." He paused, eyes rising to meet Dayna's as she leaned through the hatch. "And Dayna, while I'm at it, would you go back and make sure Avon doesn't do anything ill‑considered?"

"The next question," Sethi said softly, when he sank back on his heels to survey the damage, "is that of how difficult it will be for you to pilot the ship, without a link to the net."

"Not too bad." Tarrant swept the sleeve of his tunic across his forehead and ran his fingers through his damp hair. "No—GPN makes it easier, that's all." He sighed, wiped his hand on his trousers and rolled the tools back into their tight, self‑sealing bundle. No leaving anything loose, in this compartment. He picked it up and swung around on his knees, gripping the edge of Orac's case. "The real problem's going to be putting it all back together again, before we next make planetfall anywhere that insystem traffic control will expect a transponder signal."

"Which should of course identify the ship as something other than Commissioner Sleer's Damaris."

He nodded and pushed himself up. "Something very different."

"I would recommend a minor restructuring of the ident hardware, transposing the first and final syllables of the name and restructuring the leading 'i' as a 'T' and the final 'a' as an 'e', and a similar modifiction to shift the ship's classification from civilian yacht to light courier," Orac said crisply. "The two types are superficially quite similar,"

"I know, and we'll worry about that later." Boosting the computer up from the floor, he slid past Sethi into the corridor. "I'll settle for knowing it's off, until we know we're clear."

"It's done," he said, as they came through onto the flight deck. He crossed to the pilot's station to check the transponder display.

"The light went out a minute ago." Soolin followed his gaze and looked up, unreadable. "I held off on that first course change you'd programmed, until it disappeared."

"Good." He nodded, shifted Orac in his arms, and went on.

"Does that mean we're clear now?" Vila asked.

"I hope so, assuming no one's monitored our track too closely, back aboard the cruiser." Tarrant reached to drop the toolkit in his lap. "Your tools." He set Orac down on the console beside Avon. "And your computer." He met the other's eyes squarely. "I hope you aren't still planning to use Orac as a relay for any 'helpful' messages."

"By now we will be out of range, for my purposes." It was the best he could hope for, said Avon's closed expression, but he did reach out to press Orac's key casually, deliberately, off. and we both know that wouldn't be 'true' for a second, Avon, if you didn't see my point.

He looked across the tank at Dayna, hovering near the communications terminal where Sethi had reclaimed his place. "Any sign of our being scanned?"

"Nothing I've noticed." She folded her arms. "It's been quiet since you left."

"Good."

"You wouldn't be able to interpret an outside scan from these instruments, anyway." Sethi put in. Mildly surprised, Tarrant thought, until he caught the look that passed between them, and subsided. Sharp enough to read between the lines, he thought, and let's hope stay out of it for now.

"Then either we're clear, or we'll find out we aren't—later." he said. He wheeled back towards the pilot's station. "Even if they do still know where we are, it'll take a few hours for them to pull themselves together enough for pursuit, and by then—well. By then we'll just have to have really made ourselves hard to find."

"In the meantime, we may as well get on with the tour," Soolin said. She slipped down from the pilots' station. "Though the projection looks fairly standard."

"Is this all of it?" Dayna asked. She walked to the leading edge of the tank and bent over it, inspecting the split‑down layers of the map. "From outside, I'd have said we were dealing with more than three decks' worth of a ship, here. More like four."

Soolin shook her head. "Third deck is deeper, to allow for the cargo bay. Then you'll find most of the air and water recycling system layered in between third deck ceiling and second deck floor, above the drive chamber in the core. Most of that forward section will be either engineering or life support."

"But not all of it," said Avon. "There appears to have been quite an elaborate security retrofit on two compartments just inside the lock between that section and the centre passage" He touched the screen and a section of the map glowed brighter.

"Could be an armoury." Soolin frowned. "No, that would be the other side, the compartment on the left. Forward of that you'd have storage for supplies, and the generators powering the guns. Possibly tech stores."

"Those appear to be here." Two more compartments lit, near the centre of the arc.

"Then I don't know what it is."

"What makes it interesting," he said, "is that according to the ship's weight and balance profile, we have an unusual concentration of mass in that area. We also appear to be running only twenty percent below our maximum load capacity with the main hold empty. Loading is greatest in those two sealed compartments, the smaller holds around the outer rim of third deck, and a large chamber at the stern on second deck."

"Second deck aft would normally be rec space, the crew lounge and autokitchen," said Soolin. "It should register an above‑average per unit mass on the profile."

"The split among the three areas is nearly even thirds." Avon replied. "Whatever we're carrying, it's heavy."

Dayna raised an eyebrow. "And you'd like someone to take a look?"

"It's a thought." He studied the glowing outlines. "The status information available through this terminal is focused on life support and the structural and mechanical integrity of the vessel. I can tell that our power levels are acceptable, our force wall is operating at a level sufficient to repel anything up to a photon torpedo, food synthesizers are fully charged, and the efficiency of the air recycling system is virtually a hundred percent. I cannot tell why there appears to be no information on the contents of those areas."

"And you'd like someone to take a look." Dayna sighed and straightened. "You know, anything extra along the rim will probably involve the charging system for the extra weaponry, if it isn't just the guns themselves."

"Easily checked, since those aren't locked." He leaned back, met her eyes when she came to look over his other shoulder. "I suggest you take Vila along to address the seals on the ones that are." With the briefest of glances at the thief, "You might find their security arrangements entertaining."

"I doubt it." Slouched in his seat, Vila eyed him obliquely and folded his arms. "Federation designers never have had much imagination when it comes to locks. I wouldn't bet on it taking more than two minutes to get past whatever's down there." He absorbed Avon's gaze and pulled himself up. "An auto-kitchen on second level, though—that could be interesting. I could stand a stiff drink after all this excitement."

"After we check third level." Dayna circled behind him, eyes mocking as she passed. "Come on, then. If you're right, Vila, this shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

"If no one has any objections, I think I will look around on this deck," Sethi said, his voice thoughtful, after the lift door had closed behind them. "We are now beyond signals range of the cruiser, and there should be little enough to hear for a while."

"As you like." The other was careful not to move before permission was given, Tarrant noted, as Sethi swung his seat around and rose. Not careful enough to be troubling, not exactly, but there was something unexpectedly wary in the way he moved, stretched, and darted a look back at Avon, before walking quietly toward the door. Not quite tension, but something, now, that nudged at the edges of suspicion.

Tarrant folded his arms against the edge of the console, and watched their vector shift along track as the next course change cut in. It was hardly fair to suspect the man, under the circumstances. Suspect him of what? Every move had so far said Sethi was with them, and Avon was clearly willing to accept him at face value. But why? Ordinarily, he would have trusted in Avon's relentless wariness to keep them out of any real trouble, but—he rocked back, pushing the thought away in something like pain. That might not be reasonable any more. Might not have been reasonable, for a long time.

He let his gaze drift to watch Avon, silently. There was still a cold energy to the man, his face and movements intent as he scanned the screens in front of him—ship's specifications, from the way lights were shifting in the projection model, systems highlighting, then fading out in one area after another—but as much something deadened in his expression. An achingly familiar hardness in the dark eyes, but something there now that went beyond weariness, remote beyond touch in that pale, closed face. Something more unyielding than ever, to his own or anyone else's humanity.

He started as the intercom chimed beside him.

"Flight deck?"

"You have it, Dayna." He punched the channel onto deck speakers. "Where are you?"

"Third deck, feeling vindicated," she said sweetly. "It took Vila about a minute and a half to pop that door, and I was right about the generators feeding the weaponry system."

"Nice to know. So what did you find?"

"In the first compartment, I could say Servalan's rock collection. Several shelves of long, flat, boxes very carefully packed with raw crystals, two chests of what appears to be metallic ore—which I'd have taken for gravel, if no one had gone to the trouble of locking it up—and three smaller cases with radiation stickers on."

"And in the other one?"

"Servalan didn't use all of our black gold, to buy this ship." Her voice was smiling. "There looks to be about half of it left. All converted back to the real thing, for us."

"Very nice," Soolin commented from the weaponry station. She raised her voice slightly. "Dayna, have you seen any sign of an auxiliary fire control on that level? Looking at the setup here, it doesn't look as though the midline guns are controlled from this station."

"Nothing like that so far." Dayna paused. "By the way, you were right about that first compartment on the left, as you come through the lock, being an armoury. It looks to have everything you could want for a small raiding party, and I do mean everything." Again she paused, at a muffled comment from Vila. "On to second deck. We'll let you know."

"This gets more interesting all the time," Soolin said. She frowned and leaned back in her seat. "An overpowered drive, a lot more than standard weaponry, drop pods, an armoury. This is shaping up as less and less of a rich lady's toy, all the time." She gave Tarrant a speculative stare. "But I wouldn't have called it a fighter."

"Neither would I. It's more of a runner."

"Could we take a pursuit ship, if we had to? Or a gunship?"

"I wouldn't guarantee it, and I'd as soon not try." Tarrant considered the instruments and shook his head. "We might outrun one—but I'd as soon not have to do that, either. It'd cost us a lot of power, and unless we turn out to be carrying extra drive crystals, we might not have it to spare."

"So it hasn't been refitted to fight other ships." Her gaze drifted to the main screen. "That suggests more of a raider, then. 'Commissioner Sleer's' personal attack craft? But then caching her private fortune aboard doesn't seem to fit."

"Doesn't it?" Tarrant shrugged. "I doubt she could find anywhere more secure to keep it, these days. It could make a lot of sense, if we think of this being a personal escape craft." He looked past her as Avon switched off the holotank display, swung round, and stood up. "An ace up her sleeve, in case her plans went wrong?"

"No." His tone was flat. "She would need a crew."

"And she wouldn't risk the dependence." Imagining the woman in flight, Tarrant sighed. If anything could drive her to it, he could only see her alone."What do you think, then?"

"I don't know." Avon crossed behind Soolin and stopped for a moment, rested a hand on the high back of the co‑pilot's seat. "From the little I saw of her, I doubt running figures in her plans. She is—or was—preparing for her imminent return to power." He looked down at Tarrant. "Right now, the question doesn't much interest me. If we're still doing all right far as the cruiser's concerned, I'm going to go find a cabin and lie down for a while."

You may as well." Tarrant turned to follow him with his eyes, as he turned away. "You said they were holding you in the medical unit. How badly were you hurt?"

"I don't know. I don't remember much." Avon paused again, a shadow of pain crossing his face, and lifted his hand to touch his neck. "They only let me wake up this afternoon. I seem to have been on a ventilator at some point."

"That's likely." Soolin had turned to watch as well, her expression as guarded as his, when his eyes met hers. "The last time we saw you, you weren't breathing too well on your own."

"That was just over a week ago," Tarrant added gently.

"That could explain a lot." The other's lips set in a sudden, hard line. "It may be some time before I can stay on my feet for long, without drugs."

"Then I suggest you don't try." Tarrant glanced back at the tracking monitor. "It'll be several hours before we're far enough from our original track, to be untraceable. Then we can decide where we go next." He looked up again. "At this point, do you much care?"

"No." Avon shook his head. "Not as long as it's out of Federation space, and as fast as possible."

He drew back as Sethi reappeared in the main lock, carrying a recessed tray. "Perhaps we should let Section Leader Sethi choose a destination. After all, but for his help, we'd still be aboard Servalan's ship."

"It's a thought." Tarrant said. "What would you say to that, Sethi?"

"That I had not thought so far ahead." The lift door hissed open and Sethi sidestepped to avoid a collision with Dayna. "You have no immediate plans of your own, then?"

"Nothing past 'out of Federation space, and as fast as possible.'"

"I'm surprised." Setting his burden on the navs console, Sethi bent to work the tray's thermal cover loose. "We were certain you must have a base somewhere."

"We did, until recently," said Dayna. "I take it we're talking about where we go next?"

"It is." Tarrant spared her a look. "Avon's suggested that perhaps we should let Sethi set our next destination."

"As the man who made it all possible?" She smiled at Sethi. "I'd call it a decent reward for saving our lives—at least, as long as you don't plan on Earth, the Federation's Supreme Command Headquarters, or anything along those lines, you understand."

"I do." Sethi grinned. Balancing the tray against his arm, he lifted a steaming mug from a recess and held it out to Avon. "But I really had not thought so far ahead. No further, in fact, than that a round of hot soup might be welcome."

"Not unwelcome. Thanks." Dayna took the second mug when he offered it, and sniffed. "Smells better than institutional grade. So there's an auto-kitchen on this deck as well."

"A small one, near the stern. Apparently the officers' mess."

"Really." Her eyebrows lifted, questioning. "Any sign of recreational stimulants on the menu?"

"Not that I saw."

"Good." She grinned and slid behind him into the navigation seat. "The second deck was something of a disappointment, in that regard. For Vila, at least."

"No booze?" Soolin snorted and swiveled her chair, pushing up. "He must have been disappointed. Vila has something of a habit, when it comes to alcohol," she explained, at Sethi's puzzled look.

"Ahh," he said.

"I left him considering the fruit juices and muttering about fermentation."

"Did either of you happen to notice what else was on second deck?" Tarrant asked.

"Like auxiliary fire control stations?" Dayna nodded. "Two of them, one each side at the mid‑deck. And the supply rooms to either stern gun compartment are packed solid. I'd say we're set for a three or four months' run."

"Then that accounts for the weight." Avon returned his mug to the tray. "Any more detailed inventory can wait a few hours, so far as I am concerned. As can any consideration of our next best destination unless, Section Leader, you do have one to suggest."

"Not immediately. My only thought so far has been, that as I am once again a civilian in the eyes of Federation, I should no longer use their rank." A sigh, dark eyebrows lifting. "I was in fact a lieutenant in my own planet's armed forces, before I volunteered for this mission, but I prefer not to use that either, under the circumstances."

"That's understandable." Avon said. "So what would you prefer?"

"My family name will do." The other smiled. "My given name is Yudhisthira, but few people are that adventurous, and I can live with Yudhi for informal purposes."

"As you wish. And is there anywhere in particular that you would like to go?"

"There are several possibilities. For myself, I would need to think about it."

"Then think about it. We can give you a few hours, at least." Avon turned away. "In the meantime, I'm going to go find a cabin and get some rest."

"I would suggest the medical unit instead."

Tarrant blinked as Sethi shot out a hand to catch Avon's sleeve. Not ungently, but the movement was sudden and firm enough for Avon to turn back in surprise, free hand coming up—and stop, staring at the other in amazement. Beside him, he felt Soolin flinch slightly, and she wasn't there, the last time I tried that. Dayna had been, and she shot him a startled glance. At least this time, he isn't armed.

Or any worse than surprised, it seemed, as Sethi traded one hand on his arm for the other on his wrist, and pointed gracefully past him. "On the right, two doors down. You can't miss it."

"Perhaps not," Avon said, still staring at him, "but I—" He stopped again, nonplussed, seemingly arrested by the intent look the other was giving him, if not the supporting arm slid smoothly around his side. "Sethi, I do have a little time, I think, before everything wears off—" He twisted his hand free and held it up forestalling, as the other made to follow him. "And I will consider it, but—excuse me—in the meantime I will manage on my own." He stepped back again, turned sharply, and was gone.