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see the results of the fire you sky jockeys lay down. It's not always the enemy that gives it up for you."
    "I'm aware of that. I just got off Bellac Tau. That peace came at a massive price, but it is peace now. Bellac is free of rebels."
    "It's not free of rebels but if being owned by the Union now means peace then I suppose peace it is. The collateral damage doesn't bother you?"
    "Whether it bothers me or not doesn't make the win any less important. And it's an alliance. We don't own planets." She pushed the tray away. "Sorry, that just looks too much like mud. I'll take my chances on Aikhor."
    "Hey, want to fly the Dutchman?" he said blithely.
    She brightened considerably. "Do you have to ask?" She followed him into the cockpit.
    "Not as automatic as the cruisers you've probably been flying. You might want to use the interface." He pointed at the headset hung above the co-pilot's chair. It would only take a few minutes for the ship to recognize the neural link module embedded in her temple and, with his clearance, create a program for her.
    "You have no faith," she said, impatient to get under way. "Watch and learn."
    He rolled his eyes and engaged his own interface. "Just in case," he said. The lights on the control board came to life, indicating a connection between the ship's central processors and his neocortex via the implant at his temples. "Orbit break ready."
    She studied the flight plan he had already laid in. Their destination was a town near one of Aikhor's many oceans and they'd approach from there. "Too easy," she said.
    "Just remember the pogs," he said, his mind on the sensors. "And keep an eye on the weather. It's a stormy place. I'll compensate, if that's all right with you."
    "Stop worrying. And if you think you’ve distracted me from my question, you are very much mistaken." She began their descent into Aikhor's atmosphere, feeling the plane shudder and balk at the rough treatment. Seth had been right; the entry required her full concentration. The Dutchman's performance made it a stallion among cart horses but equally temperamental. She laughed when they approached the planet and she leveled out into the promised turbulence.
    Dense clouds hovered along the coast, obscuring much of the town although they saw lights here and there in the fog. Without any useful visibility, she finally relinquished control of the ship to him and watched while he brought the Dutchman into a vertical descent above an airfield using only his thoughts to direct the ship to its destination. His touch was deft; they felt the plane contact the tarmac with barely a wobble.
    He opened his eyes to see her watching him. "Was I snoring?"
    "Admit it. You were impressed by that entry."
    He climbed out of the pilot bench and went into the cabin to pull a coat and a poncho out of a bin. "I was checking the weather. It's raining outside, mostly water. And it’s cold. Atmospheric conditions are fine; we won't need any special gear. Gravity is a bit heavy."
    "I noticed." She took the poncho from him and then held out her hand.
    He pretended to consider. "Promise you won't shoot me?"
    "No."
    He sighed and moved past her to open the overhead bin above the sleeper. She whistled in appreciation when she saw his arsenal of long guns and side arms. “Take your pick. Just make sure it's concealed. Their laws a little restrictive here."
    She chose a projectile pistol in consideration of the weather and attached it to her belt under the poncho.
    Outside the Dutchman Seth fell into a brief conversation with a technician that had strolled out from the main building, apparently not bothered by the rain. Nova huddled under her cloak, listening to heavy drops fall onto her hood and thinking that even the dead emptiness of space was a lot more comfortable than the weather on most planets she had visited.
     The rain tapered off even before they had reached the fog-swathed perimeter of the small airfield. The outskirts of the harbor town were little more