"I do not recognize that ship," comments Somner Zek.

  She points at an image of the Red Glow on the main display, here earlier than the schedule indicates. The large trade vessel takes up the top levels of the secondary tower. Their presence is not unexpected, however. They must be here to settle our debt.

  "It's one of ours," explains Yosip from the command seat. It strongly resembles the old chair from his time commanding in Kalibern. It creaks as he leans forward. "The Red Glow."

  Around him, rather than his selected crew, are the delegates of the Empire. Zek and Bruen are also present but will be returning to Sba City with Yosip. Eva sits in the scout position with my case beside her on the deck. Besides Yosip's, hers is the only seat remaining upon the command deck. All the others form a neat stack in a nearby storage compartment.

  "Let's find out what they want," Eva declares. "They're here early, so it's got to be good."

  Yosip only grunts in response, more concerned with the untested pilot operating his vessel. The gray robed Jurer is young but does not let inexperience stop him. He sits huddled over the controls, absorbing the data from the displays with intense focus.

  The Jurer lands the ship below the Red Glow with deft touches. Bare flickers of engine exhaust flare behind us. The primary tower bustles with much more activity than his chosen resting spot. The secondary tower also charges less for parking and other services. It makes little difference, as the dock attendant waives the fees as soon as he sees the Ship-Mother exit the ship. Yosip stays behind to sign the forms, but the rest of the temporary crew follow Eva down the ramp.

  Eva carries my travel case as she escorts the delegation to her office. Our short absence appears to have gone almost entirely unnoticed; she receives only the casual, respectful greetings that are her normal due. The occasional envious glance at the case on her back is almost always followed by a chuckle.

  Along the way, a heavyset male Selber joins the group. His uniform, that of a ranking officer, is enough to allow him to pass freely through the outer ring of lesser castes and casteless that surround us. Eva acknowledges him with a shallow dip of her head.

  "Clever trick, Eva," the officer remarks casually as he walks up beside her. His voice is deep and even, sounding amused rather than upset. His expression matches his voice, an easy smile and a relaxed posture. "I won't ask how you did it, but I do wonder why you over paid?"

  Her face remains calm. Eva smiles politely and answers, "I knew you needed the funds, Gilber. My agent was instructed to make sure you'd be eager to return and continue doing business with us."

  "Hmm. Whatever you say," he declares, clearly no longer sure of a superior position. "I just wanted to tell you that I've got another one, if you need it."

  Eva nods, then glances pointedly at the group of robed figures following her.

  "I'll let you get back to your business," he says, following her eyes. "You're the first to know about it."

  "Thanks, Gilber. I'll get back to you about it if you don't find a buyer before you set out."

  Gilber, the Supply-Chief of the docked vessel, already returning to his apparent default good mood, waves and turns away. His steps are unhurried and he hums to himself. He smiles absently as he weaves through the thin traffic.

  Once he can no longer be seen, she halts. "What was he talking about, Mos?"

  I give her a brief overview of my deeds, as well as informing her of the credits I have ready to make amends. She frowns as I recount my tale, nodding to herself as she listens. She begins walking again once I finish speaking. It must be shocking to hear that I would steal from one of her associates. Although it does not erase the theft, I am actively making efforts to repay the Supply-Chief and I hope she takes that into consideration before she passes judgement.

  "You can be an idiot, sometimes," she says, rubbing the side of her face with one hand. "Next time, make a lower offer. The listed prices are high so that when he lets you argue them down, he can pretend he's giving you a good deal even when he's still making a hefty profit."

  From a rear facing camera, I notice Bruen paying rapt attention to her as she berates me. Mos Gol's words at the meeting imply that Bruen is to learn these mysterious trading tactics and employ them for the benefit of the Empire.

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  "But I altered the price to be lower! He did not receive the credits listed, only a fraction of what was listed for the core."

  "A large fraction, and you paid full price for the crop seeds and other things," she insists. "You also still managed to pay more than the core is worth and it isn't likely that they even bought the core. If I ask nicely, he'll probably make up some story about trading with mysterious aliens, but the truth is more likely that they came across a wreck somewhere and that was just part of the loot."

  She pauses, noticing that she has the attention of Bruen and the dust eaters, as well as the Sha and casteless as well. All stand in silence, listening to her wisdom. Her face darkens and she coughs.

  "Right. So, why do you think he was so quick to offer us another core? He has to have a source. I'd bet that they found some old war wreckage. Ancient ships, floating around an uninhabited planet or something, full of dead bodies and weird gadgets. If we checked, the Glow's probably selling some kind of novelty they found there, as well," she finishes, then chuckles self-consciously.

  I can find no obvious flaw in her explanation, though her reasoning is tenuous at best. If she is correct, however, then that means that all of the credits in my account are free to be used for anything I wish.

  As we walk I notice her scanning the people we pass. I don't notice anything out of the ordinary. If anything, they seem particularly at ease around the large group of aliens in their midst. They give the Ship-Mother's group a respectful distance but otherwise pay us little attention.

  "There," she announces, stopping to point at an orphan. "That kid. I've never seen a music player like that before."

  The silvery device the orphan wears emits an odd melody. It is unlike the music I sometimes hear accompanying the tri-vee programs so popular to pass the time. Nor does it sound like the songs the Tserri sing when they gather, the alien music having a rhythmic structure entirely its own.

  "There's another one," I say, noticing a similar device hanging from a shopkeeper's neck. "The design is unusual, though nothing too exciting."

  The devices are a deep metallic blue and take the form of a flat disc that hangs from a loop of cord. Small dials and a series of buttons run along the lower half, beneath a small screen that displays alien text. Her idea may not be so unlikely.

  "How much is a power core normally worth," inquires Bruen during the brief pause. His voice once again possesses its rich resonance. Somner Zek does fine work. "If it isn't a secret, of course."

  Eva turns to face Bruen, smiling brightly. She states a figure that, while not insignificant, is much lower than I expect. "That's the average, but prices go up when the customer is desperate," she clarifies.

  "Perhaps I should purchase this core," Bruen muses. "Or if not this one, another if this Gilber can provide more."

  "He did not seem like such a bad fellow," I state. "You had me convinced that he would be more difficult."

  She shrugs. "When I was trying to contact him, he kept making excuses. Bad ones." She sighs, face darkening. "I later found out that our parents were plotting to arrange a marriage. He didn't like the idea any more than I did."

  Which explains his good mood, I suppose. "You said they 'were' plotting. What changed your parents' minds?"

  "He paired with one of my younger cousins. Ruined all the older generation's plans when they found out," she finishes with a vindictive smile on her face.

  The Somner nearest her gasps in shock. The dust eater's reaction is tinged with jealous indignation. The drug their caste consumes warps their bodies and causes sterility in all cases of prolonged use. It is why all her kind must be recruited from the casteless.

  "Do not think yourself safe yet, Ship-Mother," cautions Bruen. "Our elders tend to be tenacious. I assume yours to be no more willing to abandon a plan simply because it failed once."

  Eva snorts but her smile becomes more natural, more relaxed. "Da can wait until I find a pair I like. There are plenty of Chels back home. One of them can be his heir."

  The tendrils of those able to hear Eva's words still in utter amazement. Rebelling against the wishes of an elder is difficult enough to accept, but to also hear that she does not wish to be selected for an inheritance is beyond strange. Bruen alone reacts differently.

  His tendrils wave in amusement. "Believe as you will, Ship-Mother. The tide changes, after all."

  "We say that the wind can shift, but same idea. I might go home eventually, but I'm not ready yet."

  "Your work here brings prestige to your family, does it not?"

  "Depends. Ever since the Coalition fell apart, aliens haven't been very popular. But I've got a plan. If Kalibern gets large enough, and enough people start to move here, then we'll need a Matron."

  Murmurs of understanding ripple through those listening. As Matron Chel, Eva would be able to establish a new line of her family without having to return to Prime.

  "Alright, break's over," announces Eva. "We're starting to block traffic."

  Her statement is evidently false, but that does not stop her from resuming the walk to her office. We do stop once more on the way. When Eva spots Donnan she waves him over and the group comes to a halt.

  The armored Tserri jogs over when he sees Eva's signal. "Ship-Mother, good to see that you've returned."

  His lower claws stay near the holstered stun pistol on his outer thigh. Seeing this, Eva rushes to reassure the security officer that all is well.

  "Rather than giving up our Great Spirit," she explains, making a pained face. "We agreed to allow a few observers along to poke at him."

  Donnan starts to chuckle merrily at the rude reference to myself, but his laughter ceases quickly. "Your companions?"

  "Right. I want you to take most of this group. Get them registered with our systems and assign them temporary housing."

  She waits for him to nod before turning back to face Bruen. "You and Zek follow me and we'll pick out a good location to construct a new Squiver district. I assume the architects you brought will want a say in the design?"