The three OES officers sit still, the recording from last night has just finished. None of them move, while Dean and I sit studying them.

I decide to break the silence, "So, was he really there on orders or was he..."

Mai Po says clearly, "He was off the reservation."

"Way off," Shen Po adds, his head moving just a little back and forth like he is ashamed to admit it.

Dean speaks up, "What about his threats to Ms. Abboud and I the other day?"

"He was not authorized to threaten... only to ask," Mr. Po answers, his tone subdued.

I remember my time in New Austin and quip, "You mean 'ask' like your troops in the Xeno Affairs office do?"

Each Po glares at me, while Gordon is expressionless, offering nothing and only glancing at Dean once.

"Ryan, you do like to provoke, don't you?"

"Remind me again, what kinds of discussions was I subjected to before I was invited out here the first time?"

Scowling, Mr. Po looks ready to reply, but the tension breaks unexpectedly as Ms Po's device chimes; the three of them look at it, then she frowns and initiates her projection. "Shen!"

"What?"

She holds the device up for him to see.

"Ryan, you need to get out of here," Shen Po states.

"Why is that?"

"Someone just sent Mai a message saying you need to leave."

I chuckle, "Why would that matter?"

"Because no one except my superiors and ourselves should be able to contact my wife here."

"Xin?" I ask and Ms. Po winces.

"Perhaps. But for her to know you are here..."

"MARC knows."

Gordon's eyes scan the room, Shen's do as well.

"Just ours, boss," Bellforte states.

I offer, "They had your number when I was here last time."

Mai shakes her head, "They do not lightly give away their actions. If it were not for you, we would not know of their reach at all."

"Well, who else would even care if I'm..."

"Ryan," Mr. Po interrupts.

"Yes, sir?"

"We work for the Imperial Senate."

I sit in silence trying to piece together what... then his meaning dawns: "The Intelligence Committee?"

His nod and smile are my answer.

"I thought the Imperator had control."

"OES is a Senate controlled organization. The Imperator's control is only to limited degree, Senator Starrington and the rest of the Intel Committee have most of the real power over us. It's part of the post-Messer balance."

Another thought strikes, "Could Carl exercise control?"

Shen Po smiles but well worn pain shows, "Yes, if he were enough of an ass about it."

Mai leans towards her husband and whispers something. Mr. Po nods and says, "We have what we need, the two of you should go."

Dean and I exchange a glance and rise from the table.

"One other thing, Ryan," Mr. Po quietly offers, "I'm sending your mobi a Spectrum link that you may use to contact me if any more of my people are acting..." he wants me to know he is choosing his words very carefully, "... strangely."

I look down at my connectionless Tonkor glove, then give him a rather humorless expression.

"Once you are out of the bubble," he observes, "It will touch the grid again."

…..

I'm not quite sure how far out we are from Po's little island, but almost in unison both Dean's and my mobis start making noise. I quickly realize that the glove design is indeed superior to one on the arm, neither of my hands leaves the flight controls but I'm immediately able to use my thumb to drag the mobi data onto a corner of the HUD.

Dean speaks before I do, "Jurdi is going nuts... oh, and I've got a message from the Advocacy asking me to contact."

I glance through my list and see much the same, "Yup, got those two, plus a pair from the Xi'An, one from the... no, correct that, two from the UEEN, one from the Imperial Senate, and..." Hmmm... maybe I shouldn't mention that there are encrypted ones here from the Imperator's office and from "G".

"At least one you shouldn't say out loud?" he asks from the jumpseat.

"Yeah, something like that. Jurdi seems to be pretty upset."

"Yes, sir. She has some choice words at least for me."

I look through mine and see something similar. "Boy, she can sure tear a new one, even though she uses words no one could be offended by."

Dean sounds almost awestruck, "Yeah, kinda like a priest I used to know."

Oddly enough, this reminds me of last night. "Got a question for you."

"Shoot," he replies.

"Would you really have tried to stop me from taking McMurdoe out if Bash..."

"Yes," he interrupts.

"Do you really know what I was going to say?"

"Would I have stopped you from murdering the OES guy if Bashir hadn't interrupted us?"

"Murdering?"

"It would have been murder."

"It would have been the right thing to do, he would have killed Bashir and the rest of you once he was free."

He sounds patient when he answers, "No. It is never right to murder."

"No?" I reply incredulously, "But then the bad guy wins."

"Bad guys only win in the long run if God is dead."

"What?! Bad guys win all the time."

"Only in the short term."

"You haven't been out here very much, have you?"

"You forget," he gently chides, "I've been out here as much or more than you have. Sataball champ, remember? You have no idea the scuzz that is attracted to us."

I'm having trouble getting my mind around this. "Yet you shot him," I finally counter.

"He was actively attacking Bashir."

"How is that different? He would have anyway."

"You don't know that. If we had maintained control, he could still have chosen to do otherwise."

"Come again?"

"It was his choice to attack an innocent person. Neither of us has the right to defend ourselves by murder, by assuming he would do something so evil... even if we could reasonably expect he would. Once he chose to attack another person, however, I was justified in defending that life."

"Seems like a fine line."

"Yes, one that's been used to justify wars... even though I doubt it was the real reason most times."

"Are you getting deep on me?"

He laughs as we begin descent towards the plantation, "Yeah, maybe this is enough theology for now. I'm so used to debating with other postulates, I guess you aren't ready for that."

"Good, my head is about to explode."

…..

The tea forms rows of emerald in the morning sunshine, with a dozen or so white hats of the pickers dotting the scene at something of a regular interval. My hangar doors open and the little 315 smoothly pivots for me to back her into her place. Jurdi is standing by her Freelancer, I can't tell if she is happy or angry as her arm shields her face from the thruster-wash. Power down, and Dean is opening the hatch while the heavy Aeroview doors slide closed; the peaceful view in front of us disappears.

I can hear her from here, "Dean Olivian! Where have you been?!"

I unbuckle the harness and look out towards the side of the craft, expecting confrontation. What I see, however, is Dean and Jurdi wrapped in each other's arms... and somewhere inside, my heart sinks just a little more.

…..

I look at the message titles and the one from Ryoko Hirosu stands out, "READ THIS FIRST!" I'm not sure why she feels she has to scream it, but as the encryption software does its job, the reasons quickly become evident:

"I hope you have opened this message before you have checked your message(s) from the Senate. You are hereby instructed to take your 350R to rendezvous with Xi'An diplomats and do as they instruct. Do NOT open any messages from the Senate until instructed to do so by this office. We have received reliable information that they are attempting to have you report for hearings on Earth, with hopes of disrupting the Imperator's negotiations. It is our suspicion that they will likely also order you detained once you report. Your message viewed time-stamp on this message is your protection from contempt charges if you have not viewed their communications already."

I voice a quick reply, "Message received, I'm doing as instructed. Will the Navy know the difference if the Senate issues a detain order?"

Once sent, I look at Gloria's message, "Senate appears likely to find excuse to have you arrested or terminated. Communications from McMurdoe to accounts on Select Committee member ids indicate he was acting under orders from at least one member; Po . were out of the loop. Priest seems to be cooperating with Amesly to find alternatives. Have fun! Oh, Lanai and Xin send greets." She finishes with a smiley face, of all things. I am so obviously off the deep end that this little flourish starts me laughing.

The Navy messages are next. The first is from an inspecting officer at one of the permanent jump point monitor stations; it covers her examination of the recently docked Renewal. It sounds like the Reclaimer has taken quite a bit of fire and will need repairs before it is able to return to productive work... it's pretty much what I expected. I also note that she has attached a link to the UEEN action report. Basically, it is short and simple: Reclaimer ordered to stand by, Reclaimer powered weapons and opened fire on the Naval patrol, Reclaimer ordered to stand down, Idris and a second patrol joined the engagement, Reclaimer powered down after shields failed.

The second message, though, looks more interesting... it a much longer report from the officer who led the boarding party after Renewal was crippled. The relevant part of the contact log reads:

2943.11.01:1354 Kilian Local; Boarding Action on Interdicted Reclaimer "Renewal", Lt. Jabr, commanding.

…

1415: Arrived at docking hatch; quickly achieved good seal and normal interconnection.

1418: Chief Arrys opened hatch and gave "clear"; GSgt. Flores led into vessel, with no initial contact.

1419: Bridge secured, no contact. Chief Arrys given conn.

1421: Small arms contact, main hold. PFC Howard injured (laser injury to Rt. forearm). Contact KIA: mulatto male; no id (checked both MilSpect and civ Spectrum.)

1430: Main hold secured, no further contact.

1433: Small arms contact, crew compartment. Contact KIA, white male, Id confirmed as Jonas Salt, Advocacy warrants for slavery and piracy, plus seven other system bounties.

1447: Crew compartment secured, no further contact.

1451: Sickbay, body located in iced morgue bag. White female, Id confirmed as Svetlana Tolstoy, no warrants. Note, subject appears to have been deceased for several days, fatal ballistic trauma to head noted; wound seems to imply point-blank execution from behind.

1512: Sickbay secured, no contact.

1517: No further contact, ship secured.

Shootouts on the Renewal? Just great, it's a crime scene now. Maybe I'll get to sell it... someday. And Lana executed, perhaps dead for several days... what on Terra does that mean? Next, was the unidentified man the Professor? And just who the heck was Jonas Salt and why was he on my ship?

I'm about to voice a reply with some of my questions when my mobi alerts to an incoming message from Janice Amesly marked urgent. It decrypts quickly:

"Shawn, change in plans: you will be picked up at your location within the next half hour by a UEEN officer of mutual acquaintance. DO NOT interact with Senate or OES contacts unless instructed otherwise by this office."

I've barely finished reading this when I get another one from "G":

"Looks like Cpt. Priest will be picking you up. Make sure Ms. Abboud selects something for you to wear to the Embassy (she has much better taste than you do), tell her you are meeting important people. Make sure you also take all your flight gear with you, communications imply that you may be gone for a while and need it.

Things are moving way too fast. What is going on?

…..

A 'Lancer MIS drops expertly onto my pad, but it isn't a Navy bird. Nothing like all those missiles pointing into my bay to make me very nervous. Fortunately, Captain Priest is coming down the stairs towards me with an irritating grin.

"Well, look what I found," he jokes, walking up for a quick fist bump and grabbing my bag. "You look almost human."

I look down at the getup Jurdi picked, feeling the least human I can remember. She has me wearing a long black leather prowler coat, its overflap and muted clasps run off-center down the right side of my chest. Under that is a pale blue Earth linen shirt, clasped at the throat, but with the buttons also offset to the right. My pants are some finely creased fabric in a color that matches my coat... but they are uncomfortably stiff compared to a good flight suit or a normal pair of jeans. Finally, I have my dragonskins... at least that is familiar.

Priest raises an eyebrow, perhaps expecting me to comment.

I oblige, "I feel like a performing monkey in heels."

Chuckling, he retorts, "Now you can imagine what it's like in uniform."

"Nope, I don't even want to imagine that."

He shrugs, still finding humor in the situation. "This way," he gestures to the stairway into his ship's belly. "I guess the principals are gathering, no reason to keep them waiting."

"Any idea who?"

"Not sure about all of them, but at least Amesly and Coso from our side, perhaps Sharrad as well. Amesly has told me that Leelk and Heehth will be there along with Mgren." He looks at me carefully, evaluating again. "If you want my advice, say as little as you can with these people, nothing at all would be better. My own opinion is that you are just being shown to Heehth, the other Xi'An at least know you in passing and neither Coso nor Sharrad are really important for what you may need to do."

"So why did I have to do the monkey suit?" I choke, looking down at my getup.

"No clue," he shrugs. "Ready?"

"Lead on, Captain."

…..

"Ever play with a good military helmet, TOG?"

We have just cleared atmo en route to the Xi'An Embassy and I must admit that the question is quite unexpected.

"What?"

"Have you tried out a top tier military grade combat helmet?"

"Still trying to get me to join up?"

"Actually, no. I do think you might consider a milspec combat helmet, we have some interesting technologies that civilian helms are a little weak on."

I pat my bag, "Mine has served me well for a long time."

"There's a Bell Milspec 440 on your left under the console. Humor me, okay?"

"Okay," I agree with a dismissive shrug. The new looking headgear is indeed where he said, and true to form it slips on and snugs itself to my head; the collar ring clicks and the HUD projector focuses its output to my corneas. "That's annoying," I comment.

"What?"

"The direct HUD. I can't look away."

"Sorry, that is one of the drawbacks of the 440 if you aren't comfortable with it. On the other hand, why don't you flip the training switch on the sim console."

He must be trying to get my mind off of something, but I decide maybe that's what I need. I find the little rocker switch and toggle it to "Training". Something in the helmet starts to tingle against my right temple and... "That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"I suddenly have this metallic taste in my mouth."

"Good."

"Excuse me?"

"Just wait. I'm going to let you play a combat sim enroute. Your controls are now slaved to the sim and won't impact our flight."

"Sure, whatever," my bored tone changes as I "see" a new complex environment with multiple bogeys. The controls are in my hands before I really think about it and I'm suddenly in the flow, targets seem easy prey and it doesn't take long to clear the field. A second wave comes in and I'm rolling and firing, making the most of energy and ballistics, shields and throttle, and my missile racks go all but unused. The hostiles go down much faster than I might have expected and my virtual ship is undamaged.

"Take it off of easy mode," I comment.

"TOG."

"What?"

"We're almost there. You can take the helmet off."

"You start a sim and then rush us over there?"

"Nope. But I set you up to try tDCS for combat piloting. You scored in the 97th percentile with that on."

"I don't understand."

"Just something to get the old brain working like a young one again. Judging by your movements and score, I would say you were in the zone the whole time." My expression must tell him that I'm at least a little skeptical, because he adds, "I'll explain it one of these days or you can check the Spectrum. In the mean time, just know that it also works during the real thing." He glances my way and adds with a grin, "Just sayin'."

The Xi'An Embassy glows faintly in the starlight as we approach. I've been sitting in what is usually the pilot's seat the whole trip, but haven't been doing anything with the controls; Captain Priest said he prefers the copilot's position to pilot from and I'm not interested in arguing with him.

"You ever fly these?" he asks unexpectedly and it strikes me that someone else has asked me that recently.

"I've sat second on a few of the variants, but not this one."

"Want to get a feel for her?"

I shrug but he insists, "Oh, come on, where's your spirit of adventure?"

"That what that was? I think I left that behind on a Covalex many cycles ago."

He laughs, then says, "Well, you've managed to slack off the whole trip, if we're going to land, you're need to contribute some effort." With this statement, he drops the throttle to zero, leans back, and folds his arms across his chest.

"Really?" I ask with more than a hint of annoyance.

"Fly or sit. I could care less, TOG."

I roll my eyes at him, but I also lean forward and take the controls, "Fine. You've got the ID, you call us in."

"Fair enough," he replies. "Xi'An Embassy Control, UEE Lancer Argo E184.17794M on approach. You should be expecting us."

"Argo 794, Xi'An EmCon. You are clear to land in bay 17, hold at 20 meters for security scan. Landing assist will complete the landing once you are cleared."

"Copy, EmCon."

He looks over my way, but before he can ask, I reply, "Got it."

…..

The Argo answers her controls almost too easily, every move I make is the right one as far as this craft is concerned. "You still got that training thing turned on?" I ask the Captain.

"Nope. But you are in the after-effect period, something of a heightened period of response. Works pretty good, doesn't it?"

The bland wall of the main docking area is much closer now and many details are visible, including the blinking control pattern that guides me to bay 17.

"Well, hard to tell. I don't remember 'Lancers being this easy to fly, but it has been a long time."

"Well, right now, you are handling it like a pro."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Captain."

"Just stating fact, Ryan, no flattery involved."

At twenty meters, I stop the last creeping approach and we sit. Alarms flash from the scans as my hands fall away from the controls. We are scanned quickly and then the indicators fall dark; a landing assist tractor quickly locks onto us and we glide into the bay. Beside our craft are two other UEE ships, a big Phoenix with the UEE Diplomatic Corps insignia and an Origin 300i with the Imperator's Office seal.

Captain Priest turns in his seat and quietly says, "This ship is at your disposal. It has been arranged by Janice Amesly with my complete cooperation and a Certification of Loan has been submitted to Naval and Advocacy databases to show that your tea plantation is using it legally."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is your ship for this mission. Trust me, not everyone in the government is out to get you. Ms. Amesly will have more for you soon."

"I don't..." but can't finish because he is exiting the cabin without waiting to hear me.

A Xi'An contingent with mostly military security personnel greets us as we step off the ship, Ksan Ko'Kree is among them.

Oddly, he ignores me completely, speaking directly to Captain Priest, "Captain, if you will follow me, I will escort you to your ship."

"What?" I ask, but neither of them are paying attention. I try to follow, but a huge female in combat gear steps between and behind me an officer with a thick accent says, "Shawn Ryan is to follow."

"What's going on?" I ask, but it seems this is more English than the officer knows; he does the Xi'An equivalent of shrugging and simply repeats, "Shawn Ryan is to follow."

…..

We enter the great hall, its towering windows alight with Terra's brilliant rays. Diplomat Mgren turns at my entrance and gestures for me to join a group standing together near the dias.

I bow deeply and begin, "Athas Mgren, Shē'sueren."

Her expression becomes a warm smile, "Shawn Ryan, Shē'sueren." She turns to a Spartanly attired female with Civil Service and Imperial Nestline glyphs, plus one I don't recognize and says, "Attle Heehth, please see Imperial Contractor Shawn Ryan." As Heehth seems to appraise me, Diplomat Mgren turns back to me and says, "Shawn Ryan, please see High Council Advisor to His Imperial Majesty Emperor Kray, Attle Heehth."

I bow even more deeply to the Advisor and say, "Mahhragna ith ilxag (I am too humble for such honors)."

I imagine a hint of amusement in her look as I straighten up, "Shawn Ryan, Shē'sueren."

"Attle Heehth," I reply somberly, "Shē'sueren."

Athas Mgren says to me, "I believe you already know Diplomat Leelk."

I bow in his direction and offer, "Torsi Leelk, Shē'sueren."

He replies in kind, "Shawn Ryan, Shē'sueren."

"Now that the formalities are out of the way," Athas Mgren suggests, "Perhaps you would like to join your delegation." With this comment, she indicates a long set of tables along the widest end of the room, and a group of humans seated there.

"Yes, Ma'am, thank each of you for your time and consideration."

We all exchange Athlē-korr following Xi'An convention and I walk to where Janice Amesly and other humans are rising to greet me.

"Ms. Amesly," I nod in acknowledgment when I'm close enough.

She smiles and turns to the raven headed woman beside her, " Ambassador Coso, this is Shawn Ryan, the courier escort I've been telling you about."

"Mr. Ryan," she says, notably serious if not severe in tone and expression... that or she has recently been eating lemon slices.

"Shawn," Janice continues, inexplicably using the familiar to address me, "This is Ambassador Yanna Coso, the UEE Diplomatic Corps' Ambassador to the Xi'An Empire."

I try to match her friendliness, but I suspect a bit of the Ambassador's own tone creeps into mine as I say, "Ambassador Coso, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

She nods, but has nothing further to say to me, turning almost immediately to Ms. Amesly as if I had dematerialized.

From my right, a pleasant voice says, "Mr. Ryan, you are to sit down here."

My eyes follow the voice and settle on the lovely Ms. Hirosu as she gestures for me to take the seat beside her. As I comply, my mind floods with too many if-only thoughts and I stumble clumsily.

I dare not look back to see what anyone else thought of my inept movements, but at least I didn't fall flat on my face.

"Not nervous, are you?" she whispers as I sit down, her head close enough that her perfume is intoxicating me.

Fool that I am, I answer, "Right now I'm terribly nervous."

She turns to look at me, her big brown eyes barely twenty centimeters from my old ugly face, "There is nothing to be nervous about, it has all been arranged."

My mind vanishes as I sink into her gaze, eternally drowning in her presence... well, until the moment ends and she turns back to whatever. I feel like a thirteen year old who has just asked the most popular girl in school to the big dance, and been "let down easy." (sigh)

…..

There is a good reason that I'm not a diplomat. Okay, probably a hundred good reasons, but I'm thinking about how BORING enduring this session has become. After the initial pleasantries, I've basically sat and had to listen to a back and forth exchange between the high muckety-mucks that consists of material I could have guessed listening to Spectrum Dispatch dispatches. It's no wonder we aren't getting this crisis solved, these people seem interested in just hearing themselves talk.

Gallen's a spy, no he is not, yes he is, no he's not, blah, blah, blah. It's a wonder we aren't already at war. I just want to shout and ask 'why talk if you aren't going to listen?'... but I bite my tongue, occupying myself with occasionally stealing sidelong glances at Ryoko's delicate face when I think she won't notice.

…..

The session ends and Ryoko smiles my way. "You should remain seated until Ms. Amesly speaks with you." I think she sees me sigh and she adds, "Please do not hope for more from me." Her eyes fall, "You do not hide your interest very well."

I nod and reply, "I'm sorry, Ms. Hirosu. I'm not trying to offend you."

"I know, Mr. Ryan, I know."

As she walks away, I collapse back into my chair, as deflated as a burst balloon.

Janice Amesly finds me like this and says quietly, "Mr. Ryan, I need you to haul a cargo to Rihlah. You will receive instructions once you are back aboard your craft."

"I'm not sure if I can do that, I'm still under contract."

"Oh." She glances across the room to where Diplomat Mgren stands, then looks back down at me, "I think that will be corrected shortly. If not, contact me through the chip."

I nod back and answer, "Yes, Ma'am."

Suddenly, she breaks into a broad smile, "You really have it bad for Ryoko, don't you?"

"That obvious, huh?"

Chuckling, she replies, "Yes, it is."

"I'm just not her type."

"True. But you're not dead either."

I shake my head, "Yeah, but age is supposed to make things like this easier, not more confusing."

"Like I said," she smiles, "You aren't dead."

…..

Athas Mgren gestures to me as I sit alone. Rising, I join her and Ksan Ko'Kree near the chamber where I first met them.

"Shawn Ryan," she begins, "We are unlikely to be able to make use of your services for the time being. Are you able to find suitable employment while it is decided how we wish to address your contract's actual value?"

"I can find things to do, Athas Mgren," I reply, adding, "If that is your wish."

Her head tilts just a hair, I think she is trying to determine if I'm communicating anything by where I placed her name in the sentence. Ksan likewise seems intent on me without any other obvious reason.

"You still have not answered my questions," he grumbles before getting a whithering glare from Diplomat Mgren. "I suppose that they will not matter if you are no longer our contractor." Athas nods briefly in agreement.

"Then you will please excuse me..." I say.

The Diplomat interrupts, "I understand that you raise tea on Terra III."

"Um..." I'm startled by the unexpected change of topic. "Yes, Athas Mgren."

"Shawn Ryan," she says steadily, "Are you not the source of the To'Lay White Jasmine Tea that Sha'Sheek Imperial distributes at Court?"

I nod, "I'm not sure about the To'Lay part, but Sha'Sheek Imperial does buy almost all my white jasmine and I've been told it does go to the Imperial Court."

"Good. I wish to make a gift to the Empress . Shawn Ryan, can you sell me everything you have on hand?"

Ksan Ko'Kree is staring at the Diplomat as if confused.

I respond, "I don't have anything here, Athas Mgren. I think there are a few crates at the plantation, but I would rather not open them. I may, however, have a small amount in the drying room... how much do you need?"

"How many crates?" she asks and the Seer seems all the more nonplussed.

"I don't know, I haven't done much with my business since I took the Imperial contract; my manager has been handling all of that."

"Please find out. I will purchase all crates that you have on hand at market rate plus three percent."

Ksan Ko'Kree's face just lost all obvious emotion... he seems to have withdrawn as if evaluating something private.

Now even I remember that Xi'An convention for a special order negotiation is offer, counter, counter, counter, with both sides giving ground; to take the initial offer is a sign of weakness, to push past two rounds of offer/counter is considered argumentative. But what should I ask for? Hmmm... "Market spot plus seven percent."

"Market spot plus four percent plus handling and shipping charges," she replies.

"Market spot plus five percent plus shipping and handling."

"Done," she smiles for a moment. I nod and still Ksan is a blank, though I have no doubt that we still have his complete attention.

"Shawn Ryan, would you please return to your plantation and determine the volume available for my order?"

Looking at me, Ksan finally speaks, "With your permission, I would like to visit your tea operation."

This is even more unexpected. The Diplomat betrays no emotion at all about his request, simply nodding when I look her way.

"I'm not sure that I can provide him with the proper clearances on short notice," I say, frowning somewhat.

"I can get them," Athas Mgren states calmly.

I look back at the Seer and admit that I'm a bit incredulous as I ask, "Why do you want to see the plantation?"

"Is there a problem?" he asks, hints of that hungry look playing about the edges of his face.

I shrug, "Nope. I can say that there's a pretty good chance that some of the people there have never seen a live Xi'An before."

"They have seen dead ones?" he asks icily.

"No," I chuckle, trying for all the world to change the tone.

"Then why did you specify a 'live Xi'An'?"

"It's an expression."

"You should say what you mean."

"Please excuse my error, Ksan Ko'Kree."

He was obviously not expecting me to quit arguing; he continues, "So you are just trying to make an excuse for not taking me along."

I take a deep breath and try really hard not to let him get to me. "Is your ship ready when Diplomat Mgren has the proper permissions?" I ask.

"You have a three seat craft and you are coming back here once you stow the tea, correct?"

He wants to fly with me?! No, wait, that can't be right... can it? "I'm not following."

His Xi'An grin looks a lot more evil than I hope it is, "I trust an Imperial Contractor to be able to safely fly a craft. I would like to inspect the facilities that produce this product for Imperial consumption. Is there a problem? I would have presumed that you would have nothing to hide..." his voice trails off, laden with too much innuendo.

Neither of us trusts the other, so of course we would want to be trapped in a spacecraft together.

"Shawn Ryan," Athas Mgren says, looking calmly my way, "I believe this would be a good exercise. I will get the appropriate clearances for Ksan Ko'Kree to visit your plantation and," here she looks at Ksan, "Only the tea plantation." She gazes back my way and finishes, "I request you return him here immediately after his tour when you are also bringing my gift for the Empress."

This stinks, but there seems to be something behind her expression. I shrug, "Athas Mgren, I will be honored to do this."

She nods my way and as Ksan Ko'Kree turns to stride away somewhere, her expression changes momentarily to an almost gleeful look of satisfaction. "Thank you for humoring me." She bows and dismisses me with, "Shawn Ryan, athlē-korr."

I bow in return and respond, "Athas Mgren, athlē-korr."

As the Xi'An Seer boards the Argo, I realize that Ksan Ko'Kree and I haven't really been alone since our meal on Rihlah. As he adjusts the second seat for his physique, I wonder what game he is playing.

There isn't a voice command profile installed, even the default MISC version, and since this 'Lancer isn't mine, I don't think I'll mess with adding Duncan... but I sure miss him right now; the tension in here is thicker than dust in a black nebula.

I'm trying to think about positives... are there any? Hmmm, at least the Seer knows how to strap in.