Chapter Two
Playing the Game

Captain Amelia
Crescentia Space Port

The ship had been cleared once all non-essential personnel disembarked and the remaining cargo offloaded, leaving the ship quiet by the time Crescentia Port Authority's delegation arrived to survey the despondent scene some hours later.

Amelia stood before the broken crate, off to the side and out of the delegation's way, with Lockwright just behind her – his arm clutching a stack of papers to his side. Resting her hands together on her lower back while she waited, Amelia caught a glance of Mott hovering nervously on the sidelines as the Duty Port Director and his staff clustered around the broken crate. The appalling contents had been left where they were pending the examination – despite Amelia's need for it to be cleared of her deck.

With a quiet breath to herself, Amelia focused back to the group of people circling the cargo in question. The Duty Director was a stocky Arcturian in a waistcoat richly embroidered with gold thread and an oversized tricorn that nearly covered his eyes. Amelia had already counted five adjustments he'd made to the hat since he boarded. He cast a jaded eye over the scene for several minutes and finally gave a resigned sigh. Amelia straightened her shoulders when he shook his head.

"Always a bother when this happens." His gaze met her own. "Any idea about who they were?"

"No, Sir," Amelia answered, "but they must have come aboard at Briga. This crate was part of a cargo consignment we took on at the last minute."

His brow raised. "Took on for whom, Captain?"

"It was by spot charter from the local agent of the Tycho Shipping line. It was being carried on one of their vessels until they had engine troubles, so we took it on, along with several other single items." Amelia shrugged. "I'm afraid you'd have to speak with your counterparts at the Port of Briga to track it back to the original owner. They might be able to tell you more than I could."

The Duty Director removed his hat to rub his fingers on his forehead – like a headache was forming and he was soothing it. "It would take weeks to get a message to them. Assuming they would even know. These small cargoes are damnably hard to trace." He replaced his hat, adjusting it from his eyes again. "And that too is assuming that the owner knows anything about it. Most likely they are stowaways. They see an opening on a departing ship, take their chances with a quick and safe passage under the radar. It happens quite often. Isn't that so, Mr Mott?"

Amelia glanced over to see the man's miserable nod. "Yes, Mr Coleridge." If Amelia wasn't mistaken, she was sure the man would vomit if he was alone; given the pale complexion.

"We see this all the time unfortunately, Captain." Coleridge straightened up and adjusted his tie. "A tragic thing, naturally, but…there is nothing to be done about it, I'm afraid. I am sorry for the inconvenience this has caused, Captain. We will have the bodies and the crate cleared away and you can then be off about your business."

Amelia nodded her appreciation. "Thank you, Sir. But could I ask to be kept informed on the progress of the investigation?"

Coleridge blinked slowly a few times, like he had to take a moment to process what she just asked him. "Pardon? What investigation?"

Amelia paused for a moment, letting her arms loosen to fall to her sides. "The one regarding what happened at Briga? To what brought these poor souls aboard my ship?"

"What happened at Briga would be a matter for the Brigan port or planetary authorities, Captain," answered Coleridge, his tone changing. "It is no business of the CPA. We do not have jurisdiction over any other port."

"But…" Lockwright raised his free arm. "The bodies were discovered right here, Mr Coleridge. Surely that counts for something?"

Coleridge turned a cool gaze to the human. "The bodies are here, yes, but the crime, if crime it was, occurred elsewhere." He tucked his hands into his waistcoat pockets. "I understand that this matter has upset those onboard. Who wouldn't be at such a horrendous sight? But I can assure you that we see cases such as this on a fairly regular basis."

"But–"

"Every major port does." He continued as if Lockwright hadn't spoken. "Not everyone who wants to be somewhere else can afford to pay the fees, so they smuggle themselves onto ships, into cargoes, and putting their blind trust to luck and providence to see them through it. Sometimes it does work out and they arrive safely – if not with the effects of hunger. Most times it does not work out and they end up getting found out or," he motioned to the bodies, "dead. There is really nothing more to say about it."

"There are air holes drilled in the wood on the top of the shipping crate," Lockwright pointed out, "does that suggest anything at all?"

Coleridge shrugged and offered casually, "Nothing other than that your now former stowaways at least came partially prepared. Sometimes they carry a drill or a knife. Try to do what they can for themselves, but in this case, it does not seem to have worked in their favor. Perhaps they drilled the holes too small."

"The crate was packed at the bottom of the hold." Lockwright replied. "Everything else was on top of it."

"There you are then." Coleridge held his arms out but offered up a sincere saddened smile. "Simple suffocation."

Amelia saw Lockwright's eyes flicker, the light in them fading.

"Don't look so downcast, young man. It was not your fault. You had no idea they were in there. Besides, judging by the state of their bodies, there is every chance they were already dead by the time the crate was loaded on the Legacy. You did say it was a spot charter, Captain?" He turned his attention to her. "From another ship that had engine trouble?"

"That's correct, Sir," Amelia nodded, "the Tycho Voyager that should have departed a fortnight earlier, but if I may return to the subject of the investiga–"

"More bad luck for them. Perhaps if that ship had sailed on time, they'd have made it here alive. But then her engines malfunctioned, the crate languished in her hold or in a warehouse until it came to you, and then…well, you can see the rest of that story." Coleridge nodded to Mott. "Note it down as a case of stowaways, Mr Mott. Have someone come down here and give the captain a hand in removing and cleaning up this mess."

"Excuse me, Sir." Amelia said in a tone of voice which often made others worry – especially if she was talking to people she found incompetent. "The matter of investigating this? If you won't–"

"Can't," corrected Coleridge. "The 'C' in 'CPA' is for Crescentia."

Amelia bit back an unsolicited opinion before continuing as politely as possible. "Then who should be informed of this issue?"

"Well," Coleridge rubbed his smooth chin, "we can send word to the Briga Port. They'll decide what to do next."

"And if that's nothing? If they say it's not their business because the bodies were found on Crescentia?"

"Then that, I'm afraid, is the end of all discussion on the matter." He shrugged, giving off the impression he was finished being bothered with the problem.

Amelia looked at one of the other officials. A thin, blue-skinned female dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Customs and Excise Service. "And what does your agency say on the matter, Ma'am?"

The woman shrugged. "Customs and Excise deals with cargoes, Captain not passengers. The obvious false declaration of the crate's contents is the limit of our jurisdiction here. Passengers are a matter for the local authorities. The Montressorian Government in this case." She turned away to glance at the gentlemen next to her. "Mr Outtrim, would the Bureau of Migration have anything to say about this?"

Outtrim, a Benbonian in a rumpled uniform, rubbed the back of his head. "Hard to say really. Bit difficult to call them migrants when they are dead. It's not like they have sought entry."

"But it is quite obvious they were trying to come here, no?" Amelia raised a brow. "Why else would they have tried so hard to smuggle themselves aboard a ship bond for Crescentia?"

"Who knows? Maybe they were going to jump to another ship and go somewhere else," Outtrim made a vague gesture, "as for them being on board…" he eyed Amelia squarely, "traditionally it is the responsibility of a ship's captain to vet the passengers and make sure nobody's on board who should not b–"

Amelia bridled at the comment of her capabilities. She felt her claws begin pricking her palms.

"I'm sure nobody could attribute any blame or level any accusation of negligence against Captain Amelia." Coleridge interrupted, seeming to have noticed her subtle reaction to Outtrim, and by the way he looked to her, she was correct. "The usual nature of this cargo is that it wouldn't have aroused suspicion even from the most vigilant of spacers."

Amelia settled somewhat, relaxing her fingers and returning them to rest on her lower back. "So," she started in an even tone, "it's not the Customs Service's problem because it's people and not goods. It's not the problem of the planetary government because said people are dead. And it's not the CPA's problem because they embarked and died somewhere other than Crescentia. Is that what I'm to understand?"

"In a nutshell, Captain that is so." Said Coleridge.

Amelia stood utterly still for a moment before giving a nod. "Very well. Thank you for your time, Duty Director, ladies and gentlemen." Amelia turned on her heels. "Mr Mott, when can I expect your party to arrive and clear this mess?"

He looked up from his portfolio. "They'll be here tonight."

Amelia nodded again. "So be it. You can see yourselves off, Sir."

She watched as the official party disappeared down the gangway after receiving a tip of Coleridge's hat in farewell. Her brows lowered at overhearing their talk already moving on to other matters instead of the fresh scene they've just examined – the Customs Service woman commented on grabbing a coffee before headed back into the office.

"Ma'am?" Lockwright's voice called from behind her.

Turning once more on her heel, Amelia shook her head and crossed her arms. "It's unbelievable. Innocent lives lost and it's no one's concern. Can you believe that?"

"It is hard to imagine…"

Lockwright's distracted tone pulled Amelia's focus to him, following his gaze to the pile of dead bodies. She studied the way he stared at them. Amelia knew he was blaming himself for their death since he had been the one in charge of loading the Legacy's cargo at Briga, even after he'd been assured they were possibly dead long before being loaded. "Mr Lockwright?"

His head snapped up and he straightened his stance. "Ma'am?"

"You may stand relieved. Go about your shore leave."

Lockwright hesitated for a split second before he turned himself to face her, bringing his hand to his head to exchange a salute. "Of course, Ma'am. Enjoy your leave as well."

Amelia gave Lockwright a single jerk of her head before watching him leave below deck out the corner of her eyes, gathering his things from his cabin. Once the top of his head disappeared down the stairs, she let her shoulders drop from their stiff position with a heavy, exhausted sigh. Amelia reached up to remove her hat and run her fingers through the auburn mane, her claws lightly scraping her scalp in a massage that made her fur slightly stand.

What a mess this day has turned to…

Her eyes lower back to the tangled mess of bodies and straw littering over the broken board and stained tarpaulin. Amelia took the few steps towards it until she could kneel just next to them, draping her hand holding her hat over the bent knee. Being closer than before, she scanned her feline-like eyes over the pile and the crate. Amelia wasn't sure what she hoped to find – perhaps anything they brought with them or a note they might have left behind, but after looking over every visible thing she found nothing revealing itself except the holes Lockwright pointed out.

Boots echoed from the stairs behind her then quickly came closer across the deck. Amelia was swift to turn herself about and stand back on her feet before their head emerged over the top step, returning her hat upon her head as Lockwright crossed over and stopped before her.

"Here is the paperwork on everything regarding the ships headings and cargo inventory." Lockwright said, placing his duffle beside his feet and holding out the stack of papers he'd been holding since they docked at Crescentia. "Almost headed home with them."

Amelia gave a smile, reaching out to take them from him. "Yes, then I wouldn't get to head home. Good day, Mr Lockwright."

"Ma'am." He exchanged a final salute before grabbing his bag and headed off down the gangway, tossing it over his shoulder.

When his boot steps finally disappeared, Amelia headed across the deck, up a couple of stairs, and through the open door of her cabin. The adjustment to the change of light exposure made her pupils shrink quickly, leaving her world blurry until she blinked a few times to focus.

"Amelia?"

Looking to her left, she found Delbert sitting in one of the two chairs and hugging one of her white mugs in his hands. "I apologise for that, darling."

"You have no need. This unthinkable incident was not in your plans." Delbert set his mug down on her desk, next to another along with a plate and a bowl of food.

Amelia walked across the space to her desk, setting the stack of papers at the corner near her quill. "It certainly was not. I rather these processes get over and done with, not last hours longer than needs be." Moving towards her chair, she unfastens her heavy blue coat and drapes it over the back, slipping the first button of her vest undone before sitting down across from Delbert. "What is this?"

Delbert smiled at her. "Oh, this is the breakfast I grabbed from Sarah on my way here. One I thought we'd get to enjoy while the cargo was being unloaded, but that didn't seem to work out as I envisioned."

Amelia chuckled. "It wasn't what I envisioned either. I'm guessing this bowl is for me?"

Delbert grinned and pushed the bowl of yogurt, muesli, and fruit in front of her, followed by the steaming mug of coffee. "That it is. Knowing you, dear you haven't eaten breakfast yet, especially with what time you arrived."

"How perceptive you've become." Amelia reached for the spoon buried in the yogurt.

"I have learned to be when with you." He returned to his seat and reached for his danish; one end having already been picked at.

Amelia only smiled before taking a bite of breakfast, finally feeling the hunger in her stomach now that food was near. Delbert seemed more inclined to eat his instead of picking off small pieces. For a time, they fell quiet, enjoying their food and the comfortable quiet around them. Amelia reached for her mug of coffee to drink, only after she lowered it from her lips did Delbert break the taciturnity.

"Do you know how long you are here for?" He asked, a hopefulness sneaking into his tone.

"I should be on leave for a few weeks. There are no scheduled shipments with my name lined up. Of course, in theory that could change if something urgent were to come up…" Amelia sighed while setting her mug down, but then smiled again. "But that doesn't seem terribly likely. So, it looks like you are stuck with me for a short while."

Doppler smiled at her, toying with his own mug. "I can think of far worse fates to befall me."

Amelia grinned with a chuckle. "Good. Because I've been looking forward to coming back into your life. Hearing everything I've missed, feeling the solid earth beneath my feet again."

"Well, I can't say that you've missed much," he admitted, "Montressor is not the most interesting of places. I'm sure far more excitement happened to you on your voyage…besides what happened on deck."

"My logbook says otherwise." Amelia waved at the tome sitting next to her on the desk. "All quite monotonous aside from wrangling about the extra cargo and of course, the incident. Mind you, I'm not opposed to monotony. It certainly beats the alternatives. Even if having a couple of semi-trained neophytes as first and second officer adds a certain extra frisson to normal proceedings."

"Yes, well," Delbert looked unsure, "what did the Crescentia Port Authorities have to say about the bodies? What is the first step in the investigation?"

Amelia let her spoon fall against the edge of the bowl and pushed it aside. "Oh, they had plenty to say about the incident, but as far as any of them are concerned they've wiped their hands clean of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, they basically said it is none of their problem." Amelia crossed her arms.

Delbert lowered his brows. "That seems…strange."

"I'm glad I am not the only one, but that's the galaxy of interplanetary shipping for you. It is a cut-throat game. Enforcing planetary laws aboard ships has never been easy." Amelia sighed, resting her arms on her desk, clasping her hands together. "Because its passengers and not cargo, Customs Service won't step in. Because they embarked and died away from Crescentia, CPA won't touch it. And because they are dead, planetary government says they haven't sought entry and there for not their problem." Amelia rubbed her temples. "CPA won't, sorry, can't investigate because they have no jurisdiction off Crescentia."

Delbert touched his chin in thought. "Where do they think the bodies died?"

"CPA says they most likely died at Briga. With the original cargo ship having engine troubles their crate was just sitting around for who knows how long in the holds or a storage warehouse."

"What about them sending word to the Brigan Port Authorities? Do you think they would investigate it?" Delbert suggested hopefully. "If they got word about it–"

"Briga's not much smaller than Crescentia in terms of shipping volume," Amelia said, "if the CPA doesn't regard it as worth their while to launch an investigation, their Brigan counterparts are hardly more likely. Besides it will take weeks for a message to reach them."

Amelia rested her head in her hand, lightly gliding her claws over her scalp. From the corner of her eye, she caught Delbert fidgeting in his seat. His mouth parting then closing. Eyes moving from her to his mug.

"Yes, I…I see what you mean, Amelia. There is nobody whose job it is to care for stowaways." Delbert finally felt ready to say something.

Amelia locked her eyes with his, even if the glare of the sun entering through the window kept her from seeing those warm brown irises. "Even if they are not stowaways?"

Delbert blinked. "Excuse me?"

Amelia pushed herself to her feet. "Come with me."

She heard Delbert quickly follow behind her through the open door. The bright sunlight bathed them in its golden warmth. Amelia led the way down the steps back towards the cargo crate.

"What are we doing?"

"These airholes," Amelia reached out a finger to trace one of the holes marking the top of the crate, "Coleridge said the stowaways made them with a drill or something. But they couldn't have. Look," she motioned for Delbert to come closer, "these holes weren't drilled from the inside."

Delbert bent over to see what she meant, steeling himself against the stench. "Oh…yes, I see what you mean." He lowered himself down to look from the inside up. "Yes, there are no splinters along the top of the crate but there are on the interior."

"Yes, and the direction of the grooves also prove that." Amelia spoke as her fingers followed the said grooves.

"Should…we call the Director and the others back to see this?" Delbert asked. "Surely that proves them wrong about them making these holes."

"It would, but only about that," Amelia removed her finger to cross her arms, "the deceased could still be stowaways. No doubt Coleridge or Outtrim or someone would say that they just had help."

"Someone at Briga? Then maybe that would get the Brigans to invest–"

"And the Brigans could just blame the crew of the Tycho Voyager, to which the Tycho Shipping Corporation would no doubt protest, and nobody would get any closer to the truth." Amelia answered. She shook her head in frustration. "Protocol and bureaucracy, Delbert…that's why I left the Navy, and now I find myself dealing with it more often than I did when I was in active duty! At least in the Navy there's always one authority with absolute responsibility. The Admiralty controls everything that happens aboard all Royal Light Ships."

Delbert's ears twitched. "Every Royal Light Ship?"

Amelia nodded in answer, but then it slowed, thinking about what she had just said. "Every. Royal. Light. Ship." She turned her attention to Delbert. "Including the Legacy." She smiled.

Delbert matched her smile. "So…there is someone else you can go to?"

"Perhaps…" Amelia looked past him to the teeming spaceport beyond. "We should head off to the Crescentia Naval Base, and soon."

Standing before one of the three tall iron gates that marked the main entrance to the Naval Base, Amelia pulled her CRN identification card free of her pocket and handed it to the young marine standing just outside the door of the booth. He was quick to glance over the info printed upon the front with her picture, looking up briefly to compare her likeness, before reaching beside him to press the badge against the reader wired to the booth. When a green light flashed and a couple beeps sounded, Amelia was given her card back which she clipped to the fold of her pocket.

"Captain." The young marine respectfully saluted then turned his attention to Delbert beside her. "You, Sir?"

"He is a civilian, Private Jerrkins," Amelia spoke up, "Doctor Doppler is accompanying me."

Private Jerrkins gave a single nod of his head. "Of course, Ma'am." He turned himself to lean inside the booth, pressing the button to open the gate behind him and producing a visitors' badge from a machine. "I'm sure I don't need to explain that while on base he is your responsibility?"

Amelia took the visitors badge from him, seeing Delbert's name printed out and her name as his sponsor, and clipped it to his burgundy coat.

"Thank you."

Amelia motioned for Delbert to follow her through the gate, leading them down a limestone path preceding towards a large center courtyard with four buildings placed in a square. The building placed north towered over the other three with its central dome of thick panelled, one-way glass making up most of the roof. The Admiralty House. Amelia directed them past other department buildings, cadet barracks leading off to the east, and curious glances she got from military spacers they bypassed on the way. When they finally reached the center courtyard, the shadows from the four buildings and all the planted trees glided over them as they continued to gait.

"What a marvellous space…" Delbert spoke up once they stepped into the center courtyard of the four main Crescentia base buildings.

Amelia stopped to turn and see what he was observing. He was taking in almost everything, but he seemed to be looking over the colored stones that created the Empires Royal Navy Seal in the very center of a circular path of grass, surrounded by short flowers along the edge. "It certainly has its charms, yes. The building we need is this one."

Amelia pointed to the building on their left. The Base Headquarters was a sizable two story, rectangular building of ecru and gold. Flags with the Empire's Royal Ensign and other branches of service hung proudly on either side of the decorated entry. "Stay close to me, we don't want you getting into trouble." She winked at him then started off again.

Amelia took the steps two at a time towards the left most door of glass and brass handles instead of the revolving door in the center with lots of bodies flowing through it. Just as her fingers wrapped around the handle to push the door open, it was yanked from her loose grasp by a young spacer. He nearly ran her down before he looked up from the file he was engrossed in just in time to stop.

"Oh my, pardon me, Captain!" He stumbled out with a step back. He moved to hold the door open and allow her to enter first. His salute was a bit sloppy, but he looked brand new – the state of his uniform was clue enough. It didn't have anything on it indicating he was still in the academy.

She gave a nod of thanks at his kindness.

The main lobby of the building was void of many furnishings except for a few leather couches and chairs, a large rug with the royal seal stitched in the fabric, and a large, dark stained rounded desk in the center of the room. Amelia took note of the three administration personnel sitting inside on a computer or answering a phone. The first floor was divided into three sections. The hall to the left was where security officers made constant communication with others onboard vessels and handled infractions. Procurement offices rested behind the double doors beyond the desk. The right side of the building held accounting offices – most dealing with suspected false accounting. The building had two staircases against the left and right wall that led to the second story of the building where the Commanding Officer of the Royal Navy base was officed along with a few others and meeting rooms.

"Well, this is rather…confusing." Delbert remarked beside her. "How are you supposed to know where anything is?"

Amelia pointed to a panel standing before the large desk. "That map directs you, but I already know the way. Come. The office we need is just up the stairs."

Delbert adjusted his glasses and followed behind her as they started their ascent.

It took a long time to get into the office.

The Commanding Officer of the Royal Navy base on Crescentia was a busy man, though it seemed to Amelia, waiting in the plush anteroom, that there was little enough happening around the base headquarters that was out of the ordinary to keep him as industrious as she'd been told he was.

She took a seat next to Delbert, her legs crossed, back straight, and hands clasped in her lap. Hat tucked beside her beneath her elbow. Amelia looked up at the clock hanging on the wall to see they had been waiting over fifteen minutes already. Sighing to herself, she turned her eyes to glance at the doctor. It seems he had found a journal to bury his nose in. A slight movement forward allowed her to glance at the cover, and it came as no surprise it was articles about the star out in Cyrus which just turned supernova.

'Supernova's Secretes: What Will Happen to the Trade Routes?'

With a smirk, she sat back straight and left him to his reading. Amelia remembered, before embarking on this last voyage, that Delbert had been studying the star before its transformation.

The silence was suddenly broken by a single ring of the phone. The woman behind the desk was quick to answer it and quietly spoke to the person on the other end. Amelia couldn't hear her responses, but the conversation was over shortly after it began, and the woman stood up from her desk.

"Captain," she spoke, "you can follow me now."

Amelia was swift in standing to her feet, startling Delbert from his reading. After telling him to wait for her there, she was shown in by the well-groomed flag-lieutenant, wasting no time marching to the middle of the office in front of the big desk and saluted crisply.

"Captain Amelia of the RLS Legacy, Sir. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice."

The base Commander stood and returned the salute in respect. He was a rotund, older man with curly white hair, clearly more accustomed to life behind a desk ashore than at the helm of a ship in space like she preferred. He also looked the type who took delight in the pomp and protocols of office. His desk was large and polished almost like a mirror, his reflection was virtually identical. Flanking the bay window behind his desk, two Royal Navy flags rest along the golden pole.

"Commodore-Superintendent Stavris Devaux, Her Majesty's Captain of the Port. A pleasure to meet you, Captain Amelia. I have heard much about you from fellow spacers, and your reputation precedes you, of course." Devaux moved to sit down, motioning to a couple chairs facing his desk. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Amelia gracefully moved across the room to take the left chair so his computer wouldn't block her view of his face.

"Could I offer you tea? Or coffee?"

"No, thank you," she crossed her legs again, "I'll be leaving immediately after this meeting."

He nodded, resting his arms over some paper and clasped his hands. "I understand from my aide that you had a spot of bother at the dock earlier today."

"You could say that, Sir."

"I have your report here," Devaux held up the top paper his arms had been atop, "as you told it to my staff. Stowaways, it appears."

"That is the opinion of the Crescentia Port Authority." Amelia replied. "But as the report says, I have reason to doubt that."

"Yes. Yes." He seemed to be glazing over the report. "The mentioned airholes. An astute piece of observation, but not much by the way of evidence." Devaux lowered the paper down. "So, my question is…what do you want from me?"

Amelia tucked her hands further into her lap. "An investigation into how they came to be aboard a vessel of the Navy Reserve, Sir," she replied. "I'm a commissioned Queen's Officer. I have the right to seek Admiralty investigation."

"You do, yes. But the situation is not the same, is it, Captain Amelia?" Devaux sat back, resting his hands clasped together on his stomach. "You know full well how those poor souls came to be aboard the Legacy. You just don't know why. And that question regrettably, Captain is one for the civil authorities rather than the Royal Navy."

"The civil authorities have already washed their hands of the matter," said Amelia bluntly, just as he was finishing the last of his sentence. "If we want to know how this came to pass aboard a ship carrying our flag, then I see no choice but to take up the enquiry ourselves."

"Even if we did," stated Devaux, "the Navy's jurisdiction applies only to the Legacy. We have no power to investigate at Briga…or Crescentia."

"But couldn't we request assistance?" Amelia asks. "Get help from the authorities there?"

"The civil powers call on the military when they need help, Captain, it doesn't work the other way around, and nor should it. I run this naval base, not the spaceport. Honestly, Captain, I don't see what we could do. If the Legacy was a main line warship with a naval crew all subjects to the discipline of the Articles of War, we could certainly bring them in for questioning. But since you operate a ship of the Reserves with a contracted civilian crew," he lifted his hands out before clapping them together, "that doesn't apply here. Granted, of course, we could invoke the Articles to question yourself and your officers, but I see no reason to do that."

"Quite so. I have no complaints about my officers." Amelia confirmed. "Aside from their wetness behind the ears, though I don't blame them for that."

"Indeed. There's no suggestion that there was any wrongdoing aboard the Legacy herself. Navy jurisdiction applies only to the Legacy." Devaux nodded. "I'm sure you of all people understand the position."

"Yes. Clearly." Amelia stood up." Thank you for your time, Commodore. Good day."

"I don't mean to be obstructive, you understand." Devaux stood up quickly. "It's just that you don't have anything right now that is certain to engage any authority's interest. Should you find it, present it compellingly to the right people…that may change…"

"Yes, Sir."

"And Captain…be aware, that just as the Navy has no jurisdiction over the spaceport…neither does the spaceport over the Navy's ships." Devaux gave a smile that passed over his face so quickly that Amelia wondered if it had ever been there.

Amelia looked at him for a long moment, a glimmer of something approaching respect in her eye. "Yes, Sir."

Devaux smiled knowingly. "A couple decades of dealing with the politics and overlapping jurisdictions here on Crescentia has taught me a few things, Captain. When people can palm off a problem, they will, but if you can nail it to their foreheads and make it clear that it's theirs to solve…then doors start opening for you."

"I understand what you mean, Sir." Amelia nodded before giving a sharp salute. "Thank you for your time."

Devaux returned her salute before she walked across the room to exit back into the anteroom Delbert was still lingering in. Their eyes locked the moment they could spot the other past the doorway. Amelia didn't say anything, just gave a slight jerk of her head to signal Delbert to follow as she crossed the room. With a surprisingly steady strid, Doppler rushed to meet her side just after leaving Devaux's office.

"So, um," he started as they walked down the hallway towards the stairs, "how did it go? What did he say?"

At the end of the hallway where it splits off to the right and left, Amelia turned them right and made her way towards the staircase. "He said that we need to find the evidence to make this a problem people can't avoid any longer." Amelia finally answered. "I've got to give it to the fat old bastard, you don't survive long in a job like his unless you can make things happen when nobody wants them to."

Amelia and Delbert left the Base Headquarters through the same door they entered from. Taking the steps down quickly until they both stood on the stones of the center courtyard once more. Personnel in naval blue and Royal Marines red crisscrossed the courtyard on various missions, though given the late hour of the day, Amelia knew most of them were headed for the gates, carrying satchels or bags to go home.

"So…what you're saying is," Delbert moved to stand in the shade of a nearby tree, "it's not the Navy's problem until you make it one?"

"Exactly so." Amelia nodded, relaxing her stance as she stood in the shade near him. "They can invoke jurisdictional matters. So can I. If I must play the game, then so be it, because I have some cards of my own to play as well."

"Cards?" Delbert asks surprised. "Such as what?"

"Meaning I need to find someone ready to…take creative interpretation of those matters so they can help me." Amelia touched her chin in thought. "But who, is the question…"

Delbert scratched the back of his neck before gripping his bag across his chest. "I can't imagine anyone who serves to be bold enough," he commented quietly.

Amelia turned her eyes away from Delbert to look over the several bodies crisscrossing the courtyard, just in-time to witness a familiar face amongst the crowd.

"Whoa! Parden me, Lieutenant-Commander!" A loud voice, with a tone of slight fear, caught Delbert's attention as well.

Amelia smiled as she glimpsed the tall, long-eared figure wearing a white coat over their duty uniform walking away swiftly with little regard to the young spacer who spoke to them. Surprisingly, they appeared to be joining the homeward exodus instead of heading for the Base Hospital they usually frequented.

"Speaking of…I just might have figured out where to start." Amelia took off quickly after the retreating figure.

It did not take her long to reach the taller figure since they were walking at a leisurely pace. With whom Amelia was approaching, she needed to make sure she didn't take them by surprise too much with coming from behind. She maneuvered herself to approach from their left and within sight. A smile on her face, Amelia reached her hand out to tap the long-eared figure's shoulder once to grab their attention.

"Hello again, Dr Gray." Amelia signed with her hands while speaking the instant they turned to her.

At first, Dr Gray looked irritated until her eyes recognized who bothered her. She lifted her hands. 'Greetings to you, Captain Amelia.' Dr Gray signed back with a small glint in her eyes – or was that the suns reflection in her glasses? 'What can I do for you?'

No surprise at the doc's quick snap to the point, Amelia continued to smile as she signed her words. "I'm glad you asked…"