I contact the Embassy control and we are out into space without delay. Terra III has rotated since I left with the Captain: sunrise is just now painting a towering thunderhead above the Torre Nor with strokes of brilliant vermilion. Looking at the sensor Doppler of the cloud, I decide to mention, "Might get choppy, we are headed almost directly under that cloud."

A glance his way shows that impenetrable Xi'An dino face staring directly ahead at the approaching weather.

"Okay," I remark while considering the best approach. The squall line shows minor rotations, some dramatic wind shear, and occasional significant electrical dicharges, while the back side seems to only have the heavier precipitation... hmmm, very heavy, I think perhaps "deluge" would be the appropriate description. Still, the 'Lancer should do fine in the downpour and I swing us around the towering anvil just as the sunside turns it a roiling but brilliant gold.

…..

Dean seems to consider Ksan with growing suspicion, "Just what exactly are you looking for?" he asks, a distinct edge in his voice.

"Anything amiss with materials for the Emperor's table," Ksan replies, continuing with an acerbic tone that none could misunderstand.

We are looking at four large crates of our white jasmine tea, about a hundred and twenty cargo units worth, that Dean has brought out of cool storage and that Bashir has been helping move towards the cargo ramp into the Argo.

"Won't they check all this stuff several times before it can reach Jiā or wherever?" I ask, trying not to be too cross with the Seer's attitude.

"Yes, of course."

"Then I'm not going to have you damage the product by opening it here" I state. "You are here for the tour, you were offered such and you declined. Diplomat Athas Mgren has already accepted the four crates, the price is agreed, and I am to deliver them immediately. Is there a problem?"

The Seer eyes me with as much distaste as Dnong ever did, but he motions "No" and steps out of the way.

"Load," I say to Bashir and both he and Dean resume the job of getting the containers onto the Argo.

"This is so much cooler than our 'Lancer," Bashir opines as he looks over the heavy armament on the starboard wing.

Dean laughs, "Why don't you go look at it? That or push in a straight line..." His comment dies as the teen runs to the wing to look at the missiles hanging there. "Kids," he observes.

Ksan Ko'Kree watches with what I imagine is disdain as I join Dean in moving the cargo aboard.

"I wish to leave now," he grumbles as I pass.

…..

Bashir seems so interested in the MIS that Ksan's impatience goads me into an idea... maybe not the best idea, but I'll see how it plays. "Bashir?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If your mother approves, would you like to take a quick trip up to the Embassy?"

The teenager's eyes light up and he exclaims, "YES!"

Ksan predictably objects, "This is not appropriate, Shawn Ryan."

"Now you finally desire to pronounce my name, Ksan Ko'Kree? I fear its use is inappropriate now." He glares my way, I've just verbally slapped him and he knows it. I continue, however, "You yourself have made sure that I am not acting on Imperial contract, have you not?"

"That is immaterial."

"No, it isn't. I am simply carrying these crates to Diplomat Athas Mgren as a private contract; the shipping and handling charges are bargained and agreed as part of it, and..." I pause for effect, "You were there."

He freezes; though our eyes are locked, his expression announces that he knows I'm right. I wonder if he suspects that it's Athas Mgren who has out-maneuvered him.

I resume, "SO... I am an independent hauler right now and I decide who is on my crew." To Bashir I say, "Go ask your mother for permission if you still want to go."

His dark mop of hair bouncing, he sprints off to the lift.

Somewhere inside, I feel a pang of loss as Dean calls after him, "Tell Jurdi you have my permission."

I guess it could be worse, Bashir could still hate even speaking with me.

From behind, I faintly hear Ksan Ko'Kree mutter, "An'shan (Humans)," with an evident disgust.

I ignore him, but see Dean tense; "Are all Xi'An so rude?" he asks me... not quite quietly enough.

"What was that, worker?" the Seer snipes, obvious caste superiority dripping from the way he says "worker."

I spin on him and snap, "He is my partner here, but YOU are my guest. Have you forgotten your manners as no Hatched before has when visiting my home?"

The dishonor evident in my question might as well have been an attack, Ksan's eyes flame, "You are questioning ME?!"

"You are in my home. I am serving one greater than you. I have the right to expect better."

"I will not be insulted so by one of your station," he snaps, undue emotion showing.

Surprised by the uncharacteristic outburst, Dean comments, "Gentlemen, peace please. The cargo is stowed, I am done here and you can go."

"I'm waiting for Bashir's answer," I reply, my eyes never leaving those of the Seer.

Ksan turns and strides into the ship.

The lift door opens and Bashir bounds my direction, "I can COME!" he exults.

…..

Jurdi has followed the jubilant Bashir off the lift, and once again, I'm struck with what I've never had: Dean and Jurdi hug affectionately and then, arms around each other, they turn my way.

"Will he need a suit?" Jurdi asks, trust evident in her face.

"Never hurts to be prepared; it is space, after all."

She nods and heads towards one of their storage lockers. Dean and I are now face to face, "You alright with this?" he asks. "I mean it wasn't all that long ago that you two had some issues."

"Nothing like some sightseeing and maybe even a little time at the wheel to help ease things."

"You mean to let him fly that?"

I chuckle, "I'm considering it, if only to get Ksan's goat."

"You really have it in for each other, don't you?"

"He started it."

"You know what that sounds like, don't you?"

I'm a bit bemused by this turn, "No, actually, I don't know."

"You should listen to the kids more often," he gently chides, "They do that all the time."

Now I feel my cheeks warming and an urge to snap back rises... but I also realize he's right. I don't like it, but it does sound like children do when they are passing the blame.

"And I suppose you want me to just go along with whatever he wants."

"Nope." Dean answers. I expect him to say more... but he just stands there smiling.

Jurdi returns at this juncture with a suit, but after a quick pat on Dean's shoulder, she heads directly onto the Argo.

Finally, I ask, "Is that all?"

"He means you ill, you don't have to make it easier for him by being a donkey in return."

"And just what would you suggest?"

"Be nice to him. A wise man once said, 'if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.' I think it is great advice in this case."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Nope. It was appropriate almost three thousand years ago and it's still good advice today."

"I think heaping burning coals on his head is more appropriate than being nice to him."

Dean smiles and shrugs, "Suit yourself."

"Let me get this straight," I say, trying to see what he does... if only for the moment. I try, "Are you saying you think I should be more adult than to sink to his level?"

"Not exactly, but if that helps, go for it."

"I rather dump him out an airlock."

"Would that really help?"

"No," I admit, "But it sure would feel good."

"For how long?"

"You are getting all religious on me, aren't you?"

"Trust me, if Bashir gets going, you will think I'm being easy on you."

I look back at the 'Lancer and wonder if inviting Bashir along was really such a good idea after all. "He going to preach at me?"

"No, not his thing. But he will challenge you if you make your differences of opinion obvious to him."

"Joy."

"Actually, it could be."

I roll my eyes and sigh, "This is not working out like I planned."

"No, guess not. But I bet it works out better in the end."

…..

I pass through the cockpit entrance and move towards the command chair. Bashir is looking around, trying to decide where he will sit while Ksan Ko'Kree sulks stonily in the number two postion.

On impulse, I chose to tweak the Seer again, "You will need to move. I have a copilot this time and he needs hours at the stick."

Both Bashir and Ksan Ko'Kree immediately give me their attention; the former looks elated and the latter... well... lets say that even Bashir must be able to see the hatred in that dino face.

"Besides," I continue to the Xi'An before either can respond, "I know that one such as you would rather not sink to the level of common working flight crew. I'm sure you will be much happier out of the cockpit."

For just a moment his teeth show in a reptilian snarl, then he regains control and the wall descends. "As you wish, pilot," he says emotionlessly, rising from his place and moving quietly back.

Bashir bounds into the vacated seat and begins adjusting it for his own rather slight build. "Thanks, Mr. Ryan," is all he can say, but his grin almost splits his face ear to ear.

"Okay, Bashir, want to help with the checklist?"

"Oh, I know how to start it."

"I'm sure you do, but the checklist is important even when you've been flying as long as I have."

His brows come together in obvious puzzlement, "Why?"

"It builds a rote that helps you not skip important things, especially in an emergency."

"Why?"

"Think of it as muscle memory."

"What's that?"

Hmmm... "You play sports?"

"I tried out for sataball, but I wasn't big enough. I played football in grade school... keeper mostly, just not good enough in the upper levels to keep at it."

"It there anything you like to do?"

"Dance."

"How do you get good at it?"

"Um... I don't know, you just do it."

"So you were good when you first started?"

"Well... no."

"Did you watch someone else to see how to do it?"

"Well... I guess."

"A checklist is like watching a startup expert, you imitate them when you do the checklist."

"Can we just go now?"

"This isn't a basic ship, do you want to fly some on it?"

"Yeah."

"Then we do the checklist."

"You guys doing okay in there?" Dean shouts up the ladder from below the ship.

"Yes! Go away!" I laugh.

Bashir adopts a sheepish look, "Okay, what do I do first?

"Checklist is the first option of the side console glas..."

…..

The Freelancer MIS lifts easily from its place and is out of the hangar into the steady rain with an effortless ease. The surprising fact is that Bashir is the one piloting it; I'm just watching. Well, I'm also trying desperately not to side-seat drive; as long as we aren't going to crash or otherwise hit anything, letting him take it from ground to space is in his hands.

"Don't forget to call New Austin Control," I say, noticing that he had just crossed the line without already doing so.

"Can you do that for me?" he asks.

"Sure." I set the comm and call, "New Austin Control, this is Freelancer Argo E184.17794M, heading for space."

A few moments later, "Argo 794, NAC. We have you on scans, you are clear for orbit ops. Safe flight. NAC out."

"Thanks, NAC. Argo 794 out."

"You do that every time?" Bashir asks.

"Every time you cross the 20 kilometer line you should."

"Oh." Then excitement fills his voice, "This is the first time I've flown above 20,000 meters!"

"Really?"

"Well, flying the ship." His face reddens. "I mean, I've been above 20k a lot," he says, sounding like he thinks he should if he were a bit more experienced.

My mobiglove signals and I pull up the holographic glas. A message flashes: URGENT! X.

"Keep at it until you reach standard orbit," I tell my young copilot. "I need to get this."

"Jix! Thanks!"

The message decrypts and I see first that it's from Xin.

TOG:

Researcher has done analysis of signals to and from Renewal along with pertinent data streams she considers associated with Seer Dnong Ksack's explosive event.

Analysis: G's conclusions that persons on Renewal inadvertently caused the incident thinking they were targeting you were premature. Seer Dnong Ksack CONTACTED Renewal seven (7) hours fourteen (14) minutes BEFORE destruction. Also, Renewal destruct signal was sent only four minutes before the device exploded; actual signal could not have arrived until fifty-seven (57) minutes AFTER detonation. I have been instructed to warn you that current analysis implies that Seer Ksack had an arrangement with someone on the Renewal to stage what would casually appear to have been an attack. Analysis of available material indicates close to a 75 percent chance Seer Ksack committed suicide, but it also allows for a greater than 25 percent chance that Seer Ksack was not even on the craft when it detonated. More analysis when we have it. X

My gut heaves and for some ridiculous reason Bashir notices my response. "I didn't do anything!" he complains defensively.

"It's not you, Bashir," I respond in what I hope is a patient tone. "You're doing fine, I just got some disturbing news."

"Oh, okay," he replies, seeming to settle back down.

I look over my shoulder and Ksan Ko'Kree's eyes meet mine. I wonder if he knows... or if he has a part in it all. He sure seems to have stepped easily into the role of supreme jackass that Dnong played so well. The wall is still there and it occurs to me that he was all alone aboard the Argo for ten minutes or more... I look back down at my systems and surreptitiously begin a system wide diagnostic.

…..

"Do you know what the L2 point is?" I ask my copilot.

Bashir looks confused, then admits, "No."

"Lagrange points are orbital locations that..."

He interrupts, "Oh, yeah I know what those are."

"Well, L2 is the second Lagrange point."

"Oh."

"That is where we are going."

"What's there?"

"The Xi'An Embassy."

"Oh," he says. After a pause, he asks, "Where are we now?"

"Do you know how to pull up the system map?"

"Of course, I... um..." he falls silent looking over the complex console, then asks, "Would you show me?"

"Sure, gladly."

…..

"I should probably take it now, Bashir," I say as the tumbling shapes of the Xi'An orbital Embassy become clearly visible.

"Yes, sir," Bashir replies, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"You've done well, Bashir, but right now isn't the time to get your first space landing."

"I understand," he says and I really hope he does.

"Xi'An Embassy Control," I call, "UEE Freelancer Argo, E184.17794M lined up for approach."

"Argo 794, Embassy Control, please state your mission."

"Returning Seer Ksan Ko'Kree and delivering a shipment of tea at Diplomat Athas Mgren's request."

"Argo 794, Please hold your position."

"Yes, sir."

"What?" Ksan asks somewhat incredulously.

"They told me to hold. I'm just..."

"Give me that comm," he orders, pushing past Bashir to reach his console. I don't exactly follow the Xi'An that spews from him, but the tone is unmistakably authoritative.

Oddly enough, a female Xi'An replies with even more authority in her tone and a stunned Ksan Ko'Kree stumbles backwards.

There is activity around the Embassy and suddenly four Banshee launch... heading directly for us.

"Helmets!" I order, grabbing mine from it's bag.

"Where?" Bashir wails and I realize I overlooked that. We exchange a glance and then it occurs to me that I have another. Reaching to my left, I grab the combat helm Captain Priest gave me and toss it to Bashir.

"Lock that one onto the collar, left tab, right tab, seal button on the back of the neck!"

He swings it over his head and it looks like he has it sealed.

"Power the shields!"

"Where?!"

"Right console! Left string of icons!"

"Got it!"

Our shields blink on as I try to determine if we are in trouble or not.

"Argo 794," the Embassy calls, "We require you to power down your shields and stand by to be boarded."

"This is Shawn Ryan. Is Diplomat Athas Mgren there?"

"You will power down your shields and stand by to be boarded. Is that clear?"

The Banshees are in pyramid formation about us. I need to protect Bashir. I reach out and touch the shield allocation icons on my hud glas... shutting them down.

…..

"Shields DOWN!" Bashir screams in what must be horror, staring into his HUD.

"I shut them down," I reply quietly.

"Why?!" His voice flailing with panic.

"We can't fight them." I state as calmly as I can. "I'll cooperate completely with whatever they order if it means you get to go home safe."

"What?! Why?"

"Because it's my fault you are here. I didn't anticipate any problems, but it seems I was terribly wrong."

The comms crackle, "Argo 794, remain in position. Do not power scans, shields, or weapons. Docking in twenty seconds."

I can't see the ship they are moving to the airlock, but I unbuckle my restraints and motion to Bashir to do the same. Ksan Ko'Kree sullenly stares at me, his arms folded across his chest.

CHNNNK! The Xi'An craft bumps against us. The docking ring's latches engage and sound starts coming from the airlock as atmospheres normalize between us.

A large number of Xi'An security personnel swarm through the hatch, moving quickly to fill the aft section of the craft.

One naval officer steps forward from the squad, "You are Shawn Ryan?" he asks, looking me in the eye.

"Yes, sir." I bow and continue, "Please see my copilot, Bashir Abboud and Seer Ksan Ko'Kree."

"You are seen. Hold your positions." Abruptly, he turns to the Seer. I can only barely make out the words they exchange, but after an increasingly animated argument, the officer finishes with what I think is a question; what I can catch is: "... nogh taahg'naachk ma an'shan?" If I remember Kree'Gna's lessons, that would be something like "... humans see your humiliation?"

I unexpectedly realize that the Seer is livid about something, but he says nothing.

The officer turns to me and starts, "We need to take..."

"Kath! (Stop!)" Ksan Ko'Kree commands and the officer turns back to him. The Seer bows and I hear him admit, "Ith asas (I erred)."

The officer returns the bow and says clearly, "Ith lakshore (Follow me)." Without another word, he turns and marches off the Argo, followed by Ksan Ko'Kree and the Xi'An contingent. Well... almost all of them, one security officer remains. By its size I would guess it is a female, but for the moment it seems that something in our cargo hold is of great interest.

I glance over at Bashir, but aside from a confused look he seems to now be taking this all in stride.

"May I help you?" I ask the Xi'An's back.

Tsssshhhhk. Whhsshhh. The airlock door is closed and I hear air bleeding out.

I'm rather concerned and suggest to our remaining guest, "Your ship is..."

"Peace, Shawn Ryan. You must wait." It is indeed a female voice that interrupts me, but it's one I don't recognize.

I admit, "I don't understand."

"You will wait, then I will explain in part."

I feel rather than hear the Xi'An ship's lateral thrusters move it away from us.

"Turn this ship towards the Baker jump and move us away from the Embassy."

"I really must insist."

"Athas Mgren sends her greetings. You will do as ordered in the name of Emperor Kray."

I glance at Bashir: he seems tautly balanced between fear and excitement.

"As you wish," I say, sitting back into my chair and bringing the ship around as ordered. "Bashir, please take your seat."

"Yes, sir," he answers far more agreeably than I actually think the situation warrants.

I bump the throttles up and we move away from the Embassy.

…..

"You have done well, Shawn Ryan," our guest says from not far behind me.

I glance back over my shoulder and note that the officer has moved to the seat behind Bashir.

She continues, "I am Mai Ee'shu, Special Assistant to Attle Heehth. I have been tasked with helping you move."

"May I ask what is going on?" I ask while again looking forward.

Her question surprises me, "May I ask if your copilot is safe?"

"I vouch for his character," I say, hoping I don't wind up eating those words.

"But is he safe to speak in front of?"

I look over at Basir and wonder. Finally, I comment, "He isn't a spy or Advocacy, if that is your meaning."

"You are avoiding my question, Shawn Ryan."

"Yes, Mai Ee'shu, I believe he is safe to speak in front of."

She nods, "You are going to take the Diplomat's gift to Rihlah."

"Um..." I remember Janice Amesly's insistence that I would be free to take a mission she was about to present.

Bashir pipes up, "Can I go to Rihlah, too?" There is real eagerness in his question.

I glance his way just as Mai Ee'shu asks, "Are you not the copilot?"

He catches my eye and I nod. "Yes..." he starts.

I interrupt, "He is a new copilot, eldest nestling of a very good friend. It is his first flight offworld as crew. I had not expected this turn of events, and I do not have his mother's permission to take him out of system."

"You can not go back now or contact anyone about this. He must come along or all the effort to conceal this action will have been in vain."

"Why? What is..."

"It must not be known that I am on board until after we have landed on Xi. We can not go back now."

I'm trying to object, "But..."

"Please?" Bashir interjects, clearly begging.

"Your mother will kill me," is all that comes to mind.

"No she won't, I know her better than you do. Please?"

I set the controls to autopilot and turn to the Xi'An, "What happened to Ksan Ko'Kree?"

"That is a Xi'An internal affair."

I realize that Mai is Imperial Nestline but that her caste glyph isn't Civil Service or Navy. "You are not a Diplomat."

"No," she smiles. "You are familiar with the Guidance of Klaahk?"

"A very little. Kree'Gna has tried to educate me about your history and culture, and I've really tried to learn... but these days I'm afraid I've forgotten more than I remember."

"Still, I am impressed," she says with her version of a large smile. "Our caste is a very unique one: Special Advisors to the Emperor. Though I am firstborn of our father's seventh nesting, I have earned the position of Special Assistant to High Council Advisor Attle Heehth, so I have this caste now."

Though I'm starting to guess the answer, I ask anyway, "Your father is?"

"His Imperial Majesty, First Above All Hatched, Emperor Kray."

I'm strapped in, so bowing is not an option, but still I nod and respectfully intone, "Shē'sueren, Mai Ee'shu. Mahhragna ith ilxag. (Hello and Greetings with Peace, Mai Ee'shu. I am too humble for such honor.)"

"Shē'sueren, Shawn Ryan," she replies, looking over at Bashir, obviously expecting him to greet her likewise. He has in fact turned around to watch this exchange, but now looks like he's cornered by a test he's not prepared for.

I interpose, "Please forgive my failure, Mai Ee'shu, I have not taught Bashir any Xi'An yet, please allow him to greet you in the manner in which he is most comfortable."

She glances my way and then looks back at Bashir.

"Please go ahead and say hello," I instruct, "Try to be careful to pronounce her name correctly." He looks over at me and I carefully say, "'Mai Ee'shu' is her name. Names are VERY important when speaking with any of the Hatched, I'll explain that later."

"Okay, so 'My Eshoo'?"

"Hmmm, almost. 'Mai' does sound a lot like 'my' as in 'my hat'... but with just a bit more 'ah'. So it is 'm... ah... y'.

"Mai?"

"Correct," the Xi'An answers before me, obviously interested in the process.

He blushes and says, "Thanks. So is it 'Mai Eshoo'?"

"Not quite, Ee'shu is really two parts separated by a slight aspiration." His expression tells me he doesn't understand, so I continue, "'Ee' is like the sound in 'feet' but with a little more emphasis on the sound, so it is longer."

Mai joins the lesson, clearly pronouncing, "Ee" so Bashir can hear the emphasis.

"'Ee'?" he asks, obviously with growing interest.

"You got it," I reply.

"'Eeshoo'?"

"After the 'Ee' is what school teachers call a 'half aspiration'; think of the sound you make at the start of the word 'have'."

"'h'?"

"Exactly. Now, you are only going to make the first half of that sound, so it's ' ."

"Ee'shoo?"

"You are almost there," Mai says with a smile.

Bashir is blushing again, but he looks back at me expectantly.

"The 'sh' you have spot on. The 'u' is indeed the same sound in 'shoot' but only about half as long. Not quite a long 'u', but still..."

"Okay, let me try it: 'Mai Ee'shu'?"

"Very good!" I exclaim and Bashir beams. "I'll teach you 'Shē'sueren' next time."

"Good, my head is about to explode."

The Xi'an laughs and Bashir suddenly looks confused again.

"That is how Xi'An laugh or chuckle," I explain. "Nothing to worry about."

"Shawn Ryan is correct," the Adviser says.

Sheepishly, Bashir says, "Okay."

"So," I conclude, "Now it is your turn to say hello to Mai Ee'shu."

"Hello, Mai Ee'shu."

"Shē'sueren, Bashir Abboud."

"You know my name?" he asks abruptly.

"Shawn Ryan pronounced it when he told our security officer who you were. I have simply repeated what Shawn Ryan said."

"Wow! Good memory!" he exclaims.

She chuckles again and I have to do so myself.

"What else do I need to learn?" Bashir asks as if he could finish in an hour.

I turn back to the console and say, "For right now, you need to get the feel for your position."

"So... are we going to Rihlah?"

"Sure looks like it."

"JIX!"

…..

"But I've already done that drill SEVEN times!" Bashir gripes.

"And just what was your score?"

"Well..." he sounds sheepish.

I've had him trying several simple combat drills, the same ones I myself have been figuring I should do. Bashir, however, seems to be having trouble with even the most basic targeting.

"You lost, didn't you?" I ask, as patiently as I think possible.

"Well..."

"Did you get to the pirate ambush level?"

"No. When do I get to ambush pirates?"

Hmmm, maybe I should have him practice sensors or flying instead. I skip back on the training menu top... darn, one too many... well, maybe not. I'm on the copilot's seat top level combat menu and there is a select option for equipment. I look over at the teen and see that he has his helmet off. I drop into the option and see a selection option for "tDCS enable". I tic it on and a new submenu appears: Weapons, Flight, Sensors, Global."

"Bashir, please put your helmet on."

"Do I have to?" he whines.

"Yes, you have to or I'll leave you are the Covalex hub."

"Yeah, right."

"The main Covalex station for this half of the empire is in Baker, the first system we will jump into. Derek abu Faruq is the second in command, he has four boys just older than you, he doesn't put up with any crap, and he owes me several favors. Keeping an eye on you would fulfill at least one of those."

"You wouldn't dare," Bashir retorts, but his tone reflects that he is far less than certain of this.

"You gonna learn how to fight in case we need the copilot to do just that?"

"Why do I need the helmet?"

Why am I putting up with him at all? "Because I say so," falls from my mouth. Wait... Oh... My... Goodness. I just heard my father speak from my mouth.

Bashir doesn't accept that any more than I used to. "And?" he irritatedly retorts.

"You can do what I say or I can have abu Faruq teach you to respect authority while I go on to Rihlah."

"Ohhhkkaaaayyy," the youth exhales a depressed sigh that veritably screams out that he is SO being PUT UPON, figuring the misery of doing this needs to be obvious to all. However, the helmet slips on and while he latches it into place I select the "tDCS: Weapons" option. Fairly quickly, I am to the training menu, selecting the basic combat training sequence, then the continuing difficulty option.

"Ready?" I ask"

"Yeah," he sighs.

I select "Start" and see Bashir's hands begin to move.

…..

The jump from Terra to Baker is crowded, as usual. There are a couple of Merchantmen queued up ahead of us, along with their escort.

My comms light up, "Freelancer Argo, this is Banu Merchantman Obijanq. Our team makes contracts for flying cover through to Rihlah in Xi'An space. You are not Navy, yes? You like good contract, yes? You join team, make safe together, yes?"

I look back at Mai, "Well, if I'm just supposed to be flying to Rihlah to deliver cargo, then it would make sense that I would want to join a convoy."

She nods, "It is certainly not what I would do if I were traveling openly... so this action does bolster your cover."

"Obijanq, this is Argo. Please transmit your terms for me to consider."

They do. They aren't paying much, and I try to remember my Banu dickering skills... unfortunately, there is a good reason that I don't work with the Banu very much: I have no real bargaining skill.

I at least take my time thinking about it, then, "Obijanq, this is the Argo. I'm afraid that this wouldn't even cover my ammunition if missiles were needed to defend you. I can not accept a contract I can not afford."

They were expecting a counter; immediately, they respond, "We can increase the contract 29% or we agree to cover cost of needed munitions over the current contract offer should combat be engaged."

I know that I should haggle until I'm making something better than a measly 15k Imperials, but I rather just be done with it. "No stops until we reach Rihlah?"

"No stops," the Obijanq's speaker confirms. "We have deliveries for Xi'An only."

"Well..."

"You are most difficult, team has commenced jumps. Thirty seconds left."

"Okay, I agree to the original terms plus repayment for any missiles fired in combat defending the group, ourselves included."

"Agreed."

"You have hired yourself a missile boat for support. Argo awaiting jump order."

"Argo, Obijanq is next. Then Sargass. Then Argo, Argo is last." Sargass looks to be an old HogBack gunship.

"Agro is last," I agree. "Argo out."

"Obijanq out."

"Bashir," I say, but he doesn't respond. I look over and he is moving fluidly through some scenario. "Bashir!"

He replies loudly, as if shouting over something, "Yeah?! What?!"

I find the menu and stop his sim. "Can you hear me now?"

"Yeah," he whines, "Why did you stop me, I almost got wave thirty-one of the Vanduul horde."

"You got where?"

"Wave thirty-one... three one."

"Well... look at you."

"You should have set it on easy the first time."

I look down and he was into the "advanced" training tier; not expert or master, but not basic or novice anymore either.

"You started out the same as before, but you've been improving to where you are probably pretty decent right now."

"Really? That was quick."

"Yeah, I'm impressed. Four hours to get into the advanced tier is pretty good..."

"Four hours? No way! Twenty minutes, maybe a half hour."

"We're about to jump into Baker already."

He pulls the helmet off and as he stares disbelievingly out the front windows, his mouth drops open.

"I..." he starts, but the words just die on his lips.

In front of us, the Sargass disappears into the jump.

"Strap in," I order and he complies without even a whimper.

Looking back at our passenger, I see that she has adjusted her seat, with the standard web straps crisscrossing her outfit. She also seems to be studying the glas holo displaying in front of her.

"Anything of interest, Mai Ee'shu?"

"They are flying heavy for average trade."

"Say again?" I ask as the jump drive emitter comes online and the wormhole begins to appear.

"Sensor logs indicate that there were three Merchantmen, three Avengers, one each Redeemer and HogBack, and three Bulldogs before we joined."

"You're sure?" Her glare and frown are enough rebuke and I immediately apologize, "Please forgive me, Mai Ee'shu, I misspoke."

"Forgiveness granted, but I expect you will not repeat the error. You should know that during my service term I held the post of sensor officer on several of our larger ships."

I push the throttle up as I grovel, "I again offer my sincerest apologies and ask your forgiveness."

She nods, "Again granted." Without pause, she continues, "They are still traveling heavy. Only the Merchantmen had non-combat cargo."

"Pretty good strategy to keep the wolves at bay."

"Unless the cargo is very valuable."

I shrug, "What is done is done."

Bashir asks, perhaps a little hesitantly, "Are we going to get into a fight?"

"I sure hope not," I say as I enter the jump lane and we sail into interspace.