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turned a corner. Finally. Ravindra's spirits soared. Daylight straight ahead. Three blocks away, the space port's glowing lights beckoned.
    "Let's hope Captain Davaskar has finished the replenishment." Prasad rubbed his face, and scowled at his filthy fingers. "I have no desire to hang around here any longer than we have to."
    "Agreed." Ravindra glanced at Morgan, walking uncharacteristically quietly beside him. If she thought he was finished with her, she could think again.
    Inside the space port, the overhead news screens showed views of a riot in the city, gangs of youths brawling. Three people were confirmed dead. Police were in attendance, and dozens of people had been arrested.
    Ravindra's steward, Tullamarran, came to greet them as they entered the ship, his nose wrinkling.
    "I know, Tullamarran," Ravindra said. "We all stink. This planet stinks. Get me new clothes, will you? You can probably destroy these."
     
    ***
     
    E llen Cruickshank closed the door to her temporary quarters and sank onto the sofa. Just a couple more days of testing, and she could go home to Torreno. Sometimes Fleet did crazy things. The new Firebrand fighters had been rushed into deployment, and she'd had to come to this ghastly planet to ensure the computer systems were running as they should. The work could have, should have, been done in the ship yards off Torreno. Inefficient, incompetent idiots.
    She gazed around the room, at blank walls, worn carpet and shabby furniture. The whole damn planet was like that; over-used and showing the effects. She couldn't wait to get out of here, back to her apartment and Tom.
    Sighing, she crossed over to the kitchen and poured herself a drink. Might as well watch the news, she thought. Her implant connected with the room's data port to switch on the set. A screen cleared on the far wall.
    Even the news was predictable. She sagged back onto the couch, sipping at her wine. There'd been a brawl in the city, in one of the horrible slum areas, the locals versus newly-arrived immigrants from Solvaria. The police chief, a paunchy man with a luxuriant mustache, crowed over the arrest of a few of the ring-leaders. Never local, of course; they were terrorist infiltrators from Solvaria. It wouldn't be long before the two planets were involved in an out-and-out war. Then again, that's what the Coalition Government thought, too, which was why the Firebrands had been deployed here. Solvaria couldn't hope to win a conflict, but desperate people try desperate actions. Makasa had explained the politics before he sent her to Iniciara.
    The news report zeroed in on a segment of the crowd, while the local Chief of Police provided commentary.
    "This man, Confid Lesak, was identified on our surveillance cameras. You can see him here, starting the fight." The police chief pointed a pudgy finger at a man wielding an iron bar. The man he attacked disarmed him, and then the mob became a many-headed monster, howling for blood. The footage didn't linger, moving on to another of the terrorists, who'd been in the crowd as well.
    Ellen straightened up. This fellow Lesak had been disarmed easily. Impressive. She'd like to see more of the fight. She scrolled back the footage in the newscast but they'd only used a brief snippet. Still, they must have based it on surveillance footage which presumably they'd have in the Iniciara intelligence system. Grinning, she put her empty glass back on the table. This could be fun.
    The connection to the room's data port became a cyber highway, filled with a stream of data packets. Surfing the lines to the military base's servers, she found the connection to the intelligence system. The security slowed her down for a few minutes, long enough to find the record of someone on the base with sufficient clearance to access the data. It was easy enough for her to impersonate one of the officers for a few minutes; he'd never know his identity had been borrowed. Besides, daily surveillance footage was hardly