There are four of us in the cavernous hall: Diplomat Mgren, Seer Ko'Kree, Janice Amesly, and myself. Ksan wasn't happy that Athas Mgren agreed to Ms. Amesly's terms, but at least in this huge auditorium he seems to feel that he can manage the threats or at least the risks.

Oddly enough, it seems that the Seer isn't very interested in what happened to Dnong, but rather how I managed to survive the ambush at the jump out of Stanton.

"Hey, you're the one who had that M50 rigged up to allow me that much power on one engine."

"Why were you not scanning the ships behind you?"

"We were in a civilian line, there was no reason to expect an attack with guards right there."

"And the fact that the guards were part of the attack does not make you question that?"

"I've been through that jump a couple hundred times; this was the first time I was attacked there, let alone by the patrol itself."

His face gets more grim, something I had not thought possible until now. He continues, "So you played hotshot with a crippled ship rather than attempt to protect your charge?"

"What?"

"You should have kept on Kree'Gna's wing."

"I TOLD him to go."

"I bet you did," he replies in a calm monotone that drips with sarcasm.

"Would you like to hear?"

"Excuse me?"

"Let's hear what I did say."

"How?"

"MARC was recording everything and just last night gave me a copy."

"Hmmmph."

"Diplomat?"

"Yes, thank you, I would like to hear it."

"7764 and LR17, this is Pardner representing Hurston's security group. Ya'll identify yourselves, please."

"Kree'Gna, Deputy Diplomat for Emperor Kree on Imperial diplomatic business."

"Nice ship, looks fast."

Comms are silent, just incidental ship sounds.

"Pardner, This is TOG in LR17. Name is Shawn Ryan, I'm registered with Xeno Affairs as a..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that, just checkin'. Ya'll go on through."

We hear the sound of my jump drive warming up, then the throttle as the M50 starts to apply power.

An alarm sounds abruptly, then, all of a sudden, I'm yelling, "Kree'Gna, GO!"

The engines wind just a little before a big explosion sends the sounds of mangled machinery through the frame. The sensors are giving tones, but nothing I can readily identify.

After what seems like forever, my voice calmly orders, "Duncan, rear shields at full."

More cockpit sounds and what must be me grunting while I struggle against the g-forces my maneuvers impose.

"Duncan! Shields forward!"

Alarms start to sound more urgently as I continue to occasionally grunt against the pressures on my chest.

"Missile lock," Duncan announces emotionlessly. Moments later, he updates, "Four missiles, all locked."

I know I must be trying to kick in the afterburners.

Duncan comments on the tactic, "Fuel limited, you may not be able to roast all the darts if you continue at this rate."

"And I'll be dead if I sit still," my voice responds, maybe a little too calmly considering what was happening.

There is a dull drumming sound and Duncan announces, "Shield generator damaged, shields have failed!"

A breath, maybe ten pass, then I ask, "Missile range?"

"Thousand meters... Nine-fifty."

There is a quiet rustle of fabric, I must be deciding I can't win and hitting the MUD pack. "Missiles?"

"Five hundred meters."

"Nice riding with you, Duncan."

"Have a nice trip."

"Eject now, now..."

Chank! the canopy blows off and there is no more sound on that recording.

Diplomat Mgren looks steadily at Ms. Amesly, "Did you know this?"

"We just got a chance to listen to the whole of his recordings on the flights to the hospital and back. We did not know any of this as late as this morning."

"You expect me to believe," Ksan starts, "That you did not have access to this material? From another branch of your own government?" he sneers.

"That is correct," Janice replies with remarkable restraint.

"You must think me a fool," he replies.

"Diplomat," I interject, "Do you have complete access to everything that the Seers know?"

She seems to smile, "Of course not."

Ksan Ko'Kree may be very smart, but he somehow overlooked the possibility that this point might be raised.

"We are likewise," Janice says clearly. Conspiratorially, she continues to Athas Mgren, "Intel folks are all like that, aren't they? No one has a real need for secrets except them."

I do hope that Ms. Amesly has enough experience with the Xi'An to read the mirthful twinkle in Diplomat Mgren's eyes. I am certain, though, that even if she were a novice, she could see Ksan Ko'Kree raising the walls that mean full retreat from the conversation.

It is at this moment that three devices in the room sound... almost simultaneously.

Both the Diplomat and the Seer have an odd bell-like sound that draws immediate attention to the Xi'An communication devices they both wear. Ms. Amesly has a melodious guitar sound that plays for several seconds as she brings up her connection to the grid.

I have seen color drain from human faces on many occasions... but never from a Xi'An... until now; it is a subtle transformation, but Athas Mgren's face quickly becomes a dull green, the highlights disappearing completely. Both she and the Ksan are manually interacting with their devices.

Janice, however, has been checking something and exclaims out loud, "We got them!"

"Who?" I ask.

"Your aberrant partners and the Reclaimer."

I notice that neither of the Xi'An seem to notice this announcement.

"What have they got to say for themselves?"

"Don't know yet, but a patrol at the jump to Ellis stopped them and is currently trying to get them to stand down."

"Stand down?"

"They seem to have activated their defenses. The jump is blocked, so they aren't going anywhere and..." At this point, Ms. Amesly seems to realize that neither of the them are paying any attention to her.

I don't catch much of the quiet conversation the two are having, but I do hear Ksan Ko'Kree clearly say, "Ith shen'Ga (I agree)."

"What's the matter?" I ask.

Diplomat Athas Mgren, representative of the Xi'An Emperor and member of the Imperial Nest-Line, looks up and her eyes betray just a hint of compassion from within a face of hidden bewilderment. "We have just received word that a pair of ships was destroyed after jumping into Rihlah. The craft that attacked them were ours."

Why should that matter to... something catches in my throat. "Do you know who they were?"

"Yes..." the Diplomat's voice fades and she seems to hate the taste of the words that are forming in her mouth.

Ksan Ko'Kree has no such problems; stone faced, he announces, "The two ships destroyed were a Gladius and a Xress..."

There is a huge weight suddenly on my chest.

He finishes, "Kree'Gna's Xress."

…..

"How in the hells could your own craft attack them?!" I all but scream.

"The Gladius was improperly identified and our border pursuit craft are on high alert." He pauses and I think for just a moment I see satisfaction in his face before he continues with perhaps too much innocence, "Accidents will happen when tensions are high."

Athas Mgren's glance at him might have a hint of accusation in it, but she looks my way and expressionlessly says, "I am sorry for the loss of your friend. I will need to immediately return to the Embassy to assess the damage and prepare a new courier for his mission. Please excuse us."

We all rise and the formalities are exchanged. As they turn to leave, Ksan Ko'Kree looks briefly my way and smugly exhales. "Goodbye, Ryan."

Janice Amesly and I stand alone in the room as the door closes behind the departing Xi'An.

"What just happened?" she asks.

"They just told us that Kree'Gna and his escort are..."

"No," she interrupts, "You know the Xi'An better than I, but Seer Ko'Kree seemed to take an unexpected amount of pleasure in that news." She pauses, but before I can reply she adds, "Plus I heard his parting shot. It was like he expects not to see you again."

"You want my impressions?"

"Yes. I'll need to send off a report immediately, but I want what you sense."

"Diplomat Mgren was completely surprised, Ksan Ko'Kree was anything but. He took pleasure in what he said and I think Athas suspected something more."

"He doesn't like you, could you be reading into that?"

"Possibly," I admit. "The expressions on the more lizard-like Xi'An are harder to interpret, they don't always mean what I think they mean."

"Yeah, the dinos seem to be walls without expressions," She says disgustedly. "Well, okay, it's not like even the more common Xi'An exactly wear their feelings on their faces," she opines, "Much less in formal settings."

"Well, they try not to."

"I want your gut read, did the Xi'An just shoot down their own courier on purpose?"

"I wouldn't put it past them, but if some of them did, it was without the knowledge of others."

"Could it be the Seers?"

"Maybe, but even they have politics. I'm pretty sure Dnong and Ksan represent a smaller group... faction, maybe... within the Seers."

"Could you ask the..." she pauses, looking for something on her mobi. "Ah, yes, the Outer Ring?"

"I don't know how to contact them."

"If we sent you to Rihlah as a special diplomatic representative of the Imperator to request an audience with Emperor Kray, would you be able to try?"

I snort trying to control the laugh, then manage, "I kinda doubt they would accept me past the human confines, much less to go to Jiā. Why not one of your diplomatic corps?"

She shakes her head and continues with her original thought, "Athas Mgren is from the Imperial family, right?"

"Yes."

"What if she got permission for you?"

"I'm not sure I could even get to the border the way things are these days. And if there is a Seer led faction of their empire that doesn't want things to settle down, they have to have had elements of their Navy involved. Seers don't guard jump points, their Navy does."

"But won't they investigate?"

"If they blame a human in a Gladius for the mixup, then Ksan already gave the official response the Navy will give: it was an accident."

She shakes her head, "This is getting out of hand. Gallen is going on trial, we have enough people on this side trying to start a war, and now they have the same too?"

"I'm still an Imperial Contractor, perhaps once I'm able to fly again, we can find an alternate way to contact the Outer Ring."

"Perhaps." A thought strikes her, "Can you fly a Freelancer?"

"Well, been while since I've had reason to, but I have taken second seat a few times. Why?"

"I may ask you to do something for me if the Xi'An release you... maybe even if they keep you on."

"Fair enough, though not before tomorrow when I'm cleared to fly."

…..

I'm sitting on a low bench looking out over hundreds of rows of tea plants. The breeze is fresh but not cold. Sunset is still an hour or so away, but the colors are warming, beginning to bathe everything in golden hues. Near at hand, a troop of chickadees is picking its way through the bushes that survived the blast, snatching bugs and locating the odd hidden seeds.

It all seems so peaceful... not at all like the maelstrom inside me. Kree'Gna was the being I had known longer than any other and his loss carves a hole in me. We had flown together when neither of us was worth more than our meager possessions... well, I did have a starship but still... and we made our way as unlikely friends amid hostile looks from both sides. We have both saved the other's life several times, I hurt that I wasn't there to protect him this time.

There's an unnatural roar in the sky and what little peace I've found flees like a scared rabbit. Jurdi's 'Lancer is on approach, her movements are smooth and efficient and the craft settles quickly onto the pad outside the hangar doors. From where I sit, I can see Bashir is at the controls with Jurdi in the second seat; it's a textbook landing, but I wonder who was piloting. I suspect they both know I saw them, maybe I can at least pass this test. The gangway opens but the two disembark towards the hangar entrance, each holding one of the little children.

Maybe I should wait a bit, best to not provoke anything.

…..

My mobi chimes in the approaching dark and the holo comes up; it's Ms. Amesly, looking tired and rather drained.

"Yellow," I say and my video feed goes through.

"There you are. I'm getting data back from the Imperator, he wants to wait and see what the Xi'An do. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, not a problem. I would have had to report it to the Senate Intel Committee if I had spoken to him, so this is fine."

"Good."

There is an odd jump in the signal and Janice asks, "Can you still see and hear me?"

"Sure, but there was..."

"I switched to encryption; the chip I gave you appears to still be working. I see you now have it in a Tonkor. I'm sending you a new sequence; it will arrive in parts, assemble the parts in messages 1, 4, 5, 7, and 9. Repeat that back to me."

"Um..." I try to hold onto her message, "145,79."

"If that's what it takes, fine. After you are done, discard all messages and move to a secure area where we can talk without being overheard. Your control seed for this conversation is your flight name. Think you can handle that?"

I nod enough that she can see it and she signs off with, "Talk with you soon."

My message buffer shows a stream of incoming messages, each from a different source. The bundle of messages stops at twelve, but how do I know if all of these are from her? I open each, and it does appear that they all have a frequency embedded and a cypher name. I do hope the cyphers match something on the chip, if not, there won't be much talking. I select message one and drag it onto a sequence interface. Next comes four. I add the remaining three, create the sequence, and then delete the whole stack.

I walk down the path through rows of waist-high plants now looking black in the twilight gloom. I raise the glove and, selecting the new sequence, I connect out.

The interface asks, "Seed?"

"TOG." I reply.

Across the holo comes the request: "Please spell."

"Tango October Golf."

"TOG?"

"Yes."

A message displays, "Connecting."

"I was starting to wonder," Janice Amesly looks pleased.

"I'm old and slow."

She laughs, "That isn't my experience."

"Thanks."

"Okay, your new seed for now will be the timestamp from the initiating contact. Please change that and call me back."

"Getting a bit of cloak and dagger, aren't we?"

"You want McMurdoe listening in?"

"No," I admit.

"Good. MARC will probably find a way, but if we rotate the seeds, it will take them a while with short conversations in a five-deep."

…..

"That went faster," Janice says approvingly, "Okay, you are not going to hear directly from the Imperator, so you won't be liable to that witch Starrington."

Chuckling, I reply, "I take it you don't like her either."

"She thinks she and others like her are Imperator Costigan's betters and wants to limit his ability to keep the peace."

"No hostility there," I say with more sarcasm than the average statement could hold.

She rolls her eyes, "That's right, Captain Obvious."

"Gee, thanks," I smirk.

"Stop it," she giggles, then her face gets serious. "We had been getting close to an agreement with Torsi Leelk and Attle Heehth, High Council Advisor to Emperor Kray. The talks broke off when Dnong Ksack died and now with Kree'Gna lost, we aren't sure what will happen next. Gallen's trial has actually already begun, though the Xi'An preliminaries are likely to take a ten-day or more."

"Is one of ours representing him?"

"He has no representation. Doesn't even speak Xi'An with anything like fluency."

"Show trial?"

"What we have been shown is actually quite damning. Dnong appears to have assembled enough evidence that Gallen was trying to navigate through Xi'An space to the Kr'Thak border. He had a stolen jump coordinate, one he had apparently bought from someone, and was trying to bribe a high ranking Civil Servant on Rihlah, a member of the Imperial family no less, for information on any jumps that would be beyond those two."

"Wow," I exhale. "They execute their own for even attempting to corrupt a civil servant into committing treason."

"Yes. Without an agreement, Gallen will be spaced after his conviction."

"So, where do I come in?"

"We think there is a leak, though now we don't know which side that leak is on. You are still an unknown, though Leelk... and undoubtedly his superiors... know you are a link directly to the Imperator. If you can get in, you can carry a message to the High Council and Emperor Kray."

"What message?"

She frowns and admits, "I don't know yet."

…..

Jurdi's 'Lancer quietly sits inside the bay on the free pad, my 350 and 315 occupying the other two. "Shawn?" her voice calls in a way that makes my heart beat faster. I look around and finally see her on the balcony, waving.

"Jurdi! How are you?"

"Doing good, you want some dinner? Dean's late and I've got plenty."

Somewhere behind her I hear Bashir loudly moan, "Mom?!"

"I've got to get some things taken care of," I answer, "But I can step up there and have something quick if you really want."

"Really want? I asked you, didn't I?"

Again I hear Bashir's voice, but his hiss is too low to be sure what he is saying.

I grin and reply to Jurdi's question, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Good, I've got lamb and chicken kabobs and fresh fatayer. Even Bashir's appetite isn't so big as to need it all."

I chuckle, but wonder what I'm getting myself into.

I reach out to open the elevator, but something presses unexpectedly into my back.

"You don't need to go up there, Ryan."

"McMurdoe."

"Like I said, stay down here." He seems to evaluate my lack of movement as agreeing, "Good, now let's get those hands out where I can see them."

"I'm unarmed."

"I don't care," his dry tone sounds far less than agreeable; if anything, I think he is angry, but in that deadly controlled way he seems to have.

I put my hands out far enough that he can clearly see them.

"Good, now, left hand slowly behind your back."

"Excuse me, but what's going on...?" Dean's voice comes from behind us.

"Back off," the Major interrupts in a commanding tone as the gun's muzzle leaves my back.

In a moment of clarity, I know I'm going to have to act.

My left arm is already in motion, now I pivot to bring my elbow hard into what turns out to be the side of McMurdoe's face. A grunt escapes him and though his laser isn't pointed at either of us, it slashes out anyway.

I don't let him regain his balance, bringing my right fist around with the rest of my body.

He parries, but now Dean is engaged as well, grabbing his right hand and disarming him with a violent twist and the painful sound of something breaking.

The first hint of emotion on McMurdoe's face is surprise, but raw hatred flashes through as I manage to land as hard a blow as I've ever delivered to his jaw. Something cracks and the stone man stumbles as Dean finishes restraining him from behind.

"Dean?" Bashirs voice sounds hopeful, he seems to have missed the fact that we are fighting with someone. That realization must come to him once he looks over the railing, "Whoa! MOM!"

"I'll kill you, Ryan," McMurdoe breathes.

"Not if I kill you now," I reply, murder in my heart, daggers in my eyes, and ice in my voice.

"No, Shawn," Dean says quietly.

"He will never stop if I don't. And you, Jurdi, and the kids will never be safe either."

"We will take our chances, Shawn. I can't let you kill him, not like this."

"He's an OES rogue."

"I don't care. The Lord doesn't want it."

"What?"

"It's wrong. Just as wrong as what he was probably going to do."

"He was going to murder me and maybe Jurdi and the kids if they saw anything."

Bashir's voice comes from just behind Dean, "Dean? What's going on?"

Dean's head turns and McMurdoe senses his chance. His right heel comes up hard into Dean's groin and the big man's grip eases as he responds in understandable pain.

Above us, Jamila screams as the Major slashes out at me with fury, a small blade appearing as if fired into his hand.

I duck back, the blade just nicking my chin.

Dean finishes collapsing in agony and I hear the lift behind me; Jurdi must be trying to come down.

McMurdoe lunges, but his now mangled right hand seems to bring him up short as I move to shelter the lift. The Major, however, seems to have meant for me to do this, he wheels and suddenly has his little blade against Bashir's throat, his broken right wrist evident as he wraps that arm around the startled boy's shoulder.

"Ryan," he says with a deadly calm. "Care to trade?"

The lift behind me opens and I have to use my arm to restrain Jurdi before she can rush into the fray.

"Bashir!" she screams over my shoulder, all but knocking my eardrum out.

"Stop!" I command and she seems to hold as Bashir is jerked almost off his feet as McMurdoe pulls him back out of reach.

"Me for the boy," I say quietly.

Bashir's eyes, laden with fright, open wide as if to see me for the first time.

"Good choice, Ryan. Tell the woman to lay down on the floor."

I feel her breath on my ear, "Jurdi, please."

"No, there has to be another way," she moans, but I can tell from the sound her clothing makes that she is moving onto the hangar floor.

"Boy, reach your right hand back to my right back pocket, take my binders out and toss them to Ryan."

Bashir seemingly frozen in place, doesn't respond.

"Did you understand me?" the Major snaps and I see Bashir gingerly reaching back towards his tormentor's waist. Moments later, he has a pair of heavy metal binders that he tosses gingerly my way.

As the metal clatters to the floor a meter in front of me, McMurdoe orders, "Put them on, Ryan."

Bashir gasps as his captor pushes his blade against the teen's bare neck and a thin trickle of red starts from it's point.

"Don't hurt the boy or I'll tie you out as live somal bait," I say, my voice matching his for ice.

"Don't tempt me," he snarls.

"I told you I would trade; you already know I keep my word. Let him go."

"Not likely."

Our eyes are locked as I crouch down to reach for the binders. They are cold in my hands, and I lock the right hand in.

"You've drawn blood," I reply, rage welling up inside of me. "I promise you, I will kill you at least as viciously as you've EVER done if you hurt him any more." I stand, one hand still free.

"The other one, too."

Slight motion out of the side of my eye tells me Dean is recovering. "Bashir for me is the deal. Take it or leave it," I say, moving slightly away from the lift, as if towards one of my ships.

"I intend to take you, but I'm no fool," the Major replies, icy control again returning as his eyes track me.

Dean's weight shifts noiselessly and I see him raise the Major's laser. The weapon discharges and the side of McMurdoe's head opens to an explosion of vaporized brain and skull. The knife drops limply from his hand and he slumps heavily onto Bashir's shoulders.

Everyone is in motion, Jurdi moving to Bashir, Dean moving to cover her, and I collapsing in sudden exhaustion onto the floor.

…..

"Mr. Ryan," the local police chief is finally getting to me. "You doing better now?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Looks like they gave you something before they did your stitches, you able to answer some questions?"

I absentmindedly touch the rough lumps on my chin that mark where they have stitched closed the gash that I had mistakenly thought but a scratch. I'll need to go back to the hospital for the autodoc to seal me up properly, but at least now I'm not bleeding out. My clothes may have a pint in them, but at least I'm not going to pass out again.

"Fire away, chief."

"What can you tell me about the deceased?"

"Major McMurdoe, OES."

The officer's face pales, "Excuse me, did you say 'OES'?"

"Yeah. Rogue associate. Shen Po will probably be here shortly to sort it out."

"I thought OES was just a story, a myth made to keep the Advocacy looking good when they get out of control."

"Nope."

"So... who are you?"

"Shawn Ryan."

"I already know that... but if they exist, why would OES want a tea grower?"

"I work for other people as well."

"Such as..."

"He is working with us," Janice Amesly interrupts confidently from behind me. I glance back and see her holding out an Imperator's Office Id for him to scan.

"And what does the Imperator's office know about this?"

"That is restricted information, Officer. Ryan, you are not to answer any more questions at this time, is that clear?"

I shrug, "Well..."

"Is that clear?" she asks demandingly.

I let my eyebrows rise and answer, "Yes, Ma'am."

The chief nods her way and comments, "When he can, please let him at least give me a statement on what happened."

"Ryan, you may answer that."

"Thanks, Ma'am." I turn to the cop and describe what happened.

…..

"You are getting to be a full time job," Ms. Amesly opines as we munch on cold lamb and chicken kabobs that Jurdi has graciously shared. We're sitting on the floor upstairs by the control consoles on a nice soft carpet.

Someone clears his throat behind me and Janice smiles warmly. I turn to see Bashir standing wearing an expression I've never seen.

"Bashir?" I ask.

He kneels beside me and holds out his hands; across them lies an ancient ornate dagger with an oddly curved blade and its heavy sheath.

"Please, this is for you," he says with choking emotion.

"Why?"

"You were going to trade yourself for me," he says humbly.

"Yeah, but what's this for?"

"I have hated you and you still cared for me. I wish to ask your forgiveness."

"You don't have to give me anything to get that."

He looks me in the eye, a glint of tear trying to escape, "You forgive me for all the things I've said to you? Or the stuff I've said about you?"

I shrug, "Yeah, why not? Life's too short to sweat it, I've always just wanted to be friends."

He smiles shyly, "Well... I still want you to have this, it was my father's... he left it with us when he deserted us but it is still special to me. Please... take it," he is pleading for some reason.

"If it means so much to you, then even though I'm not worthy of your gift, I'll accept it."

His expression deepens into appreciation and he lays the blade and its scabbard on my hands, then rises and walks away to where Jurdi and the younger children are.

"You know," Janice says through a knowing expression, "You really have a way with people... you either piss them off enough to get them to want to kill you or you make them loyal to the point of taking the proverbial bullet."

"You flatter me."

"Not in the least. A blind person could see that you just bought yourself another loyalist."

"Bashir?"

"Yup. I know what you did down there, and I'm sure any of us would have done the same, but you make him come to you and offer appreciation."

"I did not," I reply indignantly.

"You misunderstand, what you did got through to him somehow. I suspect you'll never be his dad, but you just became his favorite uncle."

I smile, "Jix."

"Yup. Your Xi'An friends are right, you are special somehow."

…..

"Mr. Ryan?" a familiar voice asks.

"Yes?" I ask, looking up from a mobi screen. Janice has left and I'm sitting on the ladder for the 350 trying to decide if I can sleep with my chin like this or if I need to fly to the hospital before I try to rest.

Gordon Bellforte is eying me as he replies, "Mr. Po asked me to stop by and have a chat."

"That sounds modestly understated. You here to kill me, too?"

He laughs, "No, but we would like you to come visit and explain what happened."

"What if I just get the security recordings and you can take copies back?"

"Well, we would like them, too, but it's not quite the same. We do promise to return you safely back here tomorrow."

"No torture?"

He chuckles, "Nah, unless we are out of that hot spice you like and you have to eat normal food."

I laugh.

He adds, "A night on a warm tropical island with breakfast?"

"I still need to go by the hospital to get the autodoc to fix this," I comment, touching my now aching face at the stitches.

"We have the best medical options on-world, bar none."

"Really?"

"We'll even tune up that new leg of yours."

"No bugs," I insist.

"No bugs. We just need to know what happened... and more importantly, why it happened."

"You going to be able to handle me without Xin around?"

He laughs, "The place isn't the same without her, but yes, we'll treat you like a guest anyway."

Deep down, I know I'll have to address this or they will be after me and those I care for. "Sure, mind if I just bring the explorer there?"

"The 315?"

"Sure."

"Don't trust us with your 350?"

"Not as far as I can throw you."

He laughs, "Sure, bring her along."

"What about me?" Dean's calm voice asks and both Mr. Bellforte and I look his way.

"You never sleep, do you?" Gordon quips with an agreeable grin.

"Just watching out for my elders," Olivian retorts.

I have to interject, "Hey, I resemble that remark."

"Of course you do," Bellforte says deadpan.

"Okay," I say, "We are having too much fun here. Dean, you should stay with Jurdi and the kids."

"I'm the one that shot the jerk, shouldn't I be the one he questions?"

Gordon looks back and forth between us, then nods and replies, "Actually, I bet the boss would be glad to have the two of you there at the same time."

"I'll leave a note for Jurdi on where to find us."

Gordon chuckles, "Well, you've got to remember that we're a secretive organization."

"Yeah, right," I say with at least a little sarcasm.

"Satellites actually show open ocean there," he grins. "But I understand, we don't want her Freelancer trying to find us with your last known coordinates."

Dean nods and turns for the lift.

"You seem to have your own loyal bodyguard."

"Nah, just a friend who doesn't like having friends abused."

Gordon grins, "Can't hire them like that."

"Don't I know it," I agree.

…..

The little 315P hatch opens and warm tropical night air sweeps in. At the foot of the ladder, a tall thin man in t-shirt, shorts, and sandals awaits.

"Gentlemen, welcome. Your rooms are prepared, please follow me."

Dean and I look each other's way, then climb down into the well lit hangar. Without further preamble, our greeter has turned and we follow him out into the starlit night.

…..

My bungalow doors open onto the beach, just like they did those months ago when I last visited. Surf plays a lazy rhythm as weariness overtakes me. The sheets are soft and my chin has been treated well enough that it no longer hurts. Sleep is stealing to my bedside, gently pouncing upon my prone form as too many hours of urgency weaken me to its advance.

…..

It's an odd feeling to waken in a comfortable bed to exotic flower smells wafting on warm gentle breezes. Birds seems to have chosen my doorway to have a raucous conversation, squabbling over some pecking order.

A loud knock at the front door makes me realize that I must have heard the same already; that rapping is what has woken me.

"Yes?" I call into the air.

"Breakfast in five minutes, sir."

"Yeah, be right there."

I stretch and as I sit up I discover comfortable clothes have been laid out for me on a nearby chair. I'm not sure if I should be offended by the valet service or just accept that this counts as courtesy in the heart of spydom on Terra.

…..

"Very good," Dean compliments as another mouthful of fish heads for his mouth.

"So that's why Bashir likes you so much," I quip as Mr. and Ms. Po and Gordon Bellforte look on.

Shen Po looks my way and asks, "Explain?" while Dean cheerily chews his mouthful.

"Well, I seem to remember that teens eat like the food will run out before they're done."

Swallowing, Dean grins back, "Hey, I'm just a growing boy. Fuel for the fire, you know?" Another heaping forkful heads for his mouth.

"This is my fire," I reply, shaking the little bottle of Rat's Blood over my fillet.

"You two are quite the comic pair," Ms. Po comments. "We should hire you for entertainment."

Dean has finished the bite and comments, "You couldn't afford me, much less the great and powerful Oz... or is it Oldz?"

I let a silliness escape, blowing a noisy raspberry at him.

"Ew... old guy spit!" Olivian shows mock horror.

"Mai's right," Shen Po observes, "You two are a couple of nuts."

Dean shifts suddenly to a serious tone, staring back at Mr. Po, "So why are your people after Shawn? Can't take a joke?"

Gordon seems the quickest to match the change, answering, "We aren't actually sure why the Major decided to go after Ryan last night. We were hoping he could tell us."

All eyes turn my way, "First time I had seen him since he threatened Camilla was yesterday morning in the hospital. If it had been up to me, I'd have had him ejected from my room."

"Did you say anything to him then?"

"Damn straight. He seemed to think he could just demand whatever suited him and I told him off. His comment about only killing little people didn't help the tone."

"He said that?" Mai asks, concern evident.

"Yes, Ma'am. I basically told him where to put it."

Gordon and Shen share a look, then the latter asks, "And he took that graciously?"

I actually laugh, "Yeah, right."

"Were there others in the room?"

"Just the Doctor, a couple Xi'An officials, Captain Priest, and Janice Amesly from the Imperator's Office."

The three OES types share some silent communication and Mr. Po asks, "Do you two mind if we withdraw for a while to confer?"

Dean looks my way and shrugs.

"Have at," I comment and the three of them rise and excuse themselves.

As the two of us continue our breakfasts, Dean jokes, "Told you that stuff will give you bad breath." We share a knowing nod and he is already ladling another bite for consumption.