"...but when we got there, there was no hyperspace entry cloud to be seen. We can only deduce that Befaqu was not the real target of the jump and that the escaping pilot intentionally caused the ship to misjump," Marcan ended his report.

There were not many people in the room to listen to that report. Sheila would give hers separately and therefore she was not present at the moment. The three people that were, were all FMI officers, including the Mantis's commander, Captain Edward Thames. He was a tall and intimidating man, and had a horizontal scar running across his left cheek. His grey eyes never even flinched when he listened to the report. They were all in the captain's office aboard the Mantis that had come to a geostationary orbit around Tiessar 2. There was no reason to hide from the locals anymore and from this close it would be easier to send exploration teams down to the planet.

The other two people in the office were both women, one of them a shorthaired brunette and the other dark-haired and black-eyed. They were both Colonels and were gazing at Marcan as coldly as the captain. All three wore their black FMI uniforms with the scarce silver linings and especially the woman with long dark locks looked extremely domineering in the outfit. She was also the only one in the room to have the Elite insignia sewn to her left shoulder. That meant that she had personally destroyed over six thousand enemy crafts during her career. It was something only a tiny fraction of fighter pilots ever achieved, even if they survived alive all the way to their retirement. And to top all that, she did not seem more than ten years older than Marcan, who was only 32. He wondered where she had seen enough action to earn the insignia, since the cold war against the Empire only rarely provided chances for actual combat.

Marcan's eyes that had again strayed to stare at the elite female pilot turned back to the grey-eyed captain when he spoke, "Are you sure that the craft was similar to the black ones that we saw on the records that survived from the Skeet Cruiser?"

"I'm sure, sir. It was the same black design that was on those flight records," Marcan answered.

"How is it that you failed to follow it immediately after Sergeant Sheila informed you about its presence?" the dark-haired woman, Colonel Uma Darman asked.

Marcan had prepared for that question and said calmly, "I had just ran from the city centre in a damaged protection suit. I had to cool down before I could concentrate on flying."

The answer seemed to satisfy his superiors and they moved to the next point. "What is your own theory on the destroyed and removed plants in the city?" Captain Thames asked.

Marcan sneered slightly, "I don't have the training to answer that question, sir. At the time I presumed that the removed plants had to be somehow extremely valuable to someone, and that perhaps they were a product of some genetic experiment that had been executed in the said cities and communities."

The captain nodded, "That would explain the removal of those plants and the fact that the cities had to be destroyed, but it does not explain why some plants were simply burned."

"I know that, sir. Perhaps a genetic analysis of the said plants would be in order?" Marcan said.

"Yes, Major Rayger, it would be nice if we could do that. Unfortunately we do not have an expert of that area with us," the brunette, Colonel Mia Canarbe said dryly.

"What about the only survivor we have found thus far, Luke Eyewalker? Is he really as ignorant as you make him to be?" Uma Darman asked.

Marcan coughed. It sounded to him that he had once again let his personal opinions show in his report. It was a failing that he had. "He is ignorant of the politics of this system and of the events that led to the destruction of his home, madam. But I cannot say anything about his ignorance on other fields. And the boy was of course greatly affected by his father's death and the deaths of the many others as well."

"But you do not suspect that he knows more than he says?" the captain asked.

"No, sir."

"How about the protective suit that the escaping pilot used? What can you say about that?"

"They were plain, sir, as you could see on the recording I showed you. There is no indication that he was from an Imperial system," Marcan said, remembering the suspicions that the Empire might have something to do with the attacks since they were the only other power known to posses some of the ancient cloaking devices.

"Thank you, Major Rayger. Dismissed." The captain said then and Marcan turned swiftly and walked out of the room. The questioning had been easier than he had expected and he was on good moods as he returned towards his quarters.

When he got to his room and had got out of the FMI uniform jacket that he was supposed to wear during this mission, he thought about the unknown craft again. He was probably the only one outside the Vera Industries and their mysterious clients who suspected that the alien craft was an updated Mamba, possibly even the Mamba Mk II that the company's vice president had told him about. It was certain that he broke numerous laws by not telling the military what he knew, but as they had forced him to work for them he thought that they deserved it. He knew, though, that his debt to the military was not paid yet. He was in their grasp for as long as they wanted because they knew that he had been the one who murdered Mr Jones. They could inform the Empire about him any day they felt like it and then Marcan would be as good as dead.

He still did not know why the military had decided to give him precisely this mission, though. It was a mission that anyone could have performed. Sheila had told him that they needed someone outside the military because Tiessar was not in Federal space, but he knew very well that identities were easy enough to fake and another FMI agent could have visited the system as easily as him.

Of course, the reason could be as simple as the military testing how strong a hold they had on him and how easily he would follow their orders. If anything, he had just proved to them that he was theirs to order around forever. Or, they had known that missions like this piqued his curiosity and that he would be happy to solve mysteries for them. Well, Marcan mused as he lay on his bed and looked at the metallic ceiling above, if they were going to offer him such mysteries, then let them. It was true that he enjoyed them and that he would have done it for free if it had not been for the other mission that he was supposed to have been doing.

He had promised Castor that he would find his brother, Polydeuces, for him and he had promised the Vera Industries that he would bring that ship for them to study. That was one of the reasons he had not told the military about the Mamba. Vera Industries was going to start building Castors, or whatever they were going to be called, and he wanted to see it happen. They had also promised him 100 000 credits for the Polydeuces, and that did nothing to lessen his reasons for not turning them in.

His musing was interrupted when he heard the door chime. He got up from the bed and went to the door. He half-expected to see Sheila coming back from giving her report, but it was Luke that he found outside the door. The boy was still obviously mourning for his father, but there was a small smile to his lips when he said, "Evening, sir. I was wondering if you could show me the flight simulators now?"

Marcan frowned, "Flight simulators?"

"Yes. You promised to show me them when we were leaving Judd behind and I asked if I could pilot Castor again," Luke explained.

Marcan raised his eyebrows. He had no recollection of the promise, but he did not doubt the boy's words. There had been much on his mind back then. But there was actually nothing better for him to do until Sheila returned form her hearing. "Ok," he said, "just let me get my jacket first."

Then, together they walked down the narrow corridors to the pilots' recreation rooms and looked around. There were all kinds of equipment there for pilots to pass their time, ranging from a bar via pool tables to the simulators. There were six simulator units along the left wall and five of them were presently occupied. They were of the type that you could actually enter and find yourself in the cockpit of a small fighter, usually the Saker Mk III that was the standard military fighter.

They walked to the machines and Marcan checked the time indicators and reservation lists on them. He found that one of the occupied ones had not been reserved and pushed the button that would lit up a small lamp inside to inform the occupant that someone else wanted to use the machine. Then he made a reservation on that one and the one unoccupied simulator for one and a half hours and asked Luke to go inside.

Wide-eyed, the seventeen-year-old boy climbed into the small cockpit and looked around at all the small buttons and monitors. It took a while for Marcan to explain the boy what each piece of equipment was supposed to do and how to pilot the ship, and before he was done, the pilot who had been training on the simulator that Marcan had reserved for himself came out and went to one of the pool tables.

When he was done with the explaining, he closed the hatch to the simulator Luke was in and walked to the now unoccupied one. He entered it and looked around. There was one computer that he had not explained to Luke and he used it to link their simulators together for a shared training session. Then he selected an easy program that was supposed to be used for early flight training. He had never had to train pilots in these basic tasks when he had been the leader of a fighter squadron, since he had been assigned soldiers who had gone through the basic training already. Still, he was sure that he could be patient enough with the young boy.

He opened the comm-channel to Luke's cockpit and said, "Luke, I chose a simple flying task for you and I will take you through every step of it. Don't expect too much from yourself yet, just concentrate on studying the systems and getting comfortable with the ship."

"Ok, sir," Luke answered and Marcan pushed the button that started their program. The screens in their cockpits lit up with an image of nothing, but on their scanners they both had dots that indicated that there was a space station on their left.

"Luke, I want you to fly around the space station for a couple of times. Don't go too fast or too close to the big thing. Remember, that we are in space and that your main thrusters, the ones that take you forward are the most powerful. When you want to turn, you have to remember that the velocity that you have gained won't stop as soon as it would in an atmosphere. Your manoeuvring thrusters will work to stop your velocity to that direction and the faster you go, the more time it will take. So, don't go faster than 500 km/h at this point," he explained to the young man. It was supposed to be the easiest possible task to fly, notwithstanding flying in a completely empty space, but Marcan knew that many beginning pilots managed to fly straight at the station and get themselves killed if they did not know enough about the Newtonian flight models.

And knowing the math of it was only the first step. No pilot could concentrate on mathematics when flying and so the way one's ship reacted had to be learned by heart, through hours, days and weeks of practice. And after that would become the flying in an atmosphere and only after that the first space fight.

During the next one and a half hours, he took Luke through several easy flight tasks and even taught him a few useful manoeuvres that he had sometimes used in a space fight. At the end of their session he flew his ship ahead of Luke, challenging him to try and follow him and perhaps even get a few shots in. He had decided to boost the boy's self-confidence a little by letting a few shots hit him in the simulated fight, but Luke actually got one laser bolt in his stern on his own. He had to admit that the boy showed promise.

When he went to open the hatch to Luke's simulator, the boy was very excited. It did not show of his face a lot, but Marcan could see it in him nevertheless, especially in his voice when he exclaimed at the past flight lesson. "It was wonderful!" Luke announced as he looked at the simulator that he had just got out from. "I'm sure that flying a real ship in real space will be even more fun!"

Marcan smiled, "It's also more dangerous, boy. If you had made the mistakes that you made in the beginning of the lesson in real ship, you'd be dead now."

That did not lessen Luke's enthusiasm, "Bah," he said, "that was in the beginning. I just started to get the hang of the ship. I'm sure that before I get off this ship, I'll be ready to fly my own ship!"

Marcan's smile widened, "Perhaps you will."

They bought a couple of drinks from the bar and sat down to discuss the lesson. Luke did not even try to tell him about the feelings he had about his father's death, and Marcan did not push him. He thought that he would have got uncomfortable if the boy had even tried opening up in his company. But spaceships and flight lessons were another matter and he could talk about the topic for hours and hours if need be. He told Luke about his service in the military and the missions that he had been on, and even revealed how his former sergeant had betrayed him and the other young pilots by setting a trap for them with the Imperial Navy.

He spent time with the boy until his comm-link chimed and he had to look at the small screen on his wrist computer. Sheila's face appeared on the screen, "Marcan! Where are you? I've been waiting for you for an hour already!"

"I've been teaching Luke to fly a ship," Marcan said to the woman. "Where are you?"

"I'm in your quarters. Come on already!" Sheila answered.

Marcan blushed as he realised that Luke had heard Sheila's answer and was looking at him curiously. "I'll be right there," he said to his wrist and turned off the connection.

"Are you and that sergeant an item or what?" Luke asked him after he had finished.

Marcan shrugged, "We have known each other for a long time. She was in my squadron and served under me."

Luke frowned, apparently aware that he had not answered the question. He did not push it, though. "When will you give me my next lesson?" he asked instead.

Marcan smiled, "I'm not sure what they have me do next and when I'll have time to teach you. Let's talk about it tomorrow morning. If you want, you may try to use these simulators for yourself. Just follow the instructions after you have sat down on the seat and select some more of the flying practices. But you'll have to use the simulators when they are free; you don't have authorisation to reserve them beforehand."

"I understand," Luke answered and gulped down his glass of bright blue fruit juice. Marcan did the same with his and stood up and excused himself.

When he got to his quarters, he found Sheila on his bed, stripped of her uniform and wearing only her underwear. As he entered, she looked up from her datapad and smiled. "You becoming pals with that boy?"

Marcan chuckled, "I don't know. It was fun to teach someone to fly, though."

"You should consider returning to the military then. I'm sure you could find a post somewhere as a squadron leader of something," Sheila said and put the datapad away, into a safe distance from the bed.

Marcan laughed, "You forget my rank. Majors rarely lead squadrons anywhere! And, what's more, the military would not let me leave the FMI that easily." He took of his uniform and looked at Sheila who was looking up at him expectantly.

"You are right, big boy. You have served the Federation too well. Now, come here and forget about that all for a while," Sheila said, smiling at him.

Marcan smiled and took off the uniform trousers. When he was wearing only his briefs, he lay down on the bed with Sheila and kissed the top of her breasts. Sheila pushed them up at him and he slipped his hands under him to fumble with the lock of the bra. He did not have too much experience with such things, and he usually managed to spend several seconds before figuring out how to open the darn things, but this time the lock opened almost by itself. Sheila smiled at his sudden show of professionalism and then gasped as he lowered his lips to her left nipple and sucked at it gently.

Afterwards, Marcan picked up the datapad that Sheila had been reading when he had entered. He looked at the screen and asked, "What were you reading?"

Sheila sighed, "Those are our new orders. We are to go down on the planet with a small team and take a look around. The captain sees that we should be able to find more survivors from the forests, since they cannot have all died in the attacks against the cities and settlements."

Marcan shrugged, "He is probably right. It would be surprising if there wasn't someone out there, keeping out of sight. How big team?"

"Not many. There aren't many that can be spared because the ship has to be ready to defend against possible attack by the alien ships. There'll be six people in addition to us two," Sheila explained.

"And we're supposed to examine the capitol and its surroundings?" Marcan asked.

"And all the other settlements as well," Sheila answered.

"All of them? How many are there?"

"Four small settlements according to the scans made from the orbit. They are all relatively close to the capitol," Sheila explained.

"Okay. Who's leading the mission?" Marcan asked.

Sheila smiled, "Your good friend Colonel Freud."

"Him?" Marcan gasped. "He doesn't have the flexibility for this kind of a mission!"

"You'd better not tell him that, big boy," Sheila laughed and rolled on top of him, pushing Marcan's hands away with the datapad. "We don't have to gather for a mission briefing until tomorrow morning, so let's forget all about that for now."

Marcan smiled to the woman. Her pre-sex lines weren't too imaginative, but he could not bring himself to complain. Sheila was fun to be with and he enjoyed their time together tremendously. Still, it took him a while to forget about the new mission and turn his full attention to what they were doing.

"The first team will consist of me and Sergeant Davis, the second of Sgt. Major Ruska and Corporal Puska, the third of Major Rayger and Sergeant Rasche and the fourth of Sergeants Watson and Bayman," Colonel Freud said, standing again with his hands clasped together behind his back and his body in a rigid posture.

Marcan listened to the orders and there was a frown on his face that told everybody who looked that he did not like what he was hearing. And, in fact, he did not.

Colonel Freud saw this too, and asked; "Major Rayger, do you have something on your mind?"

Marcan cleared his throat and would have blushed if he had been the type of man who did. "Sir, I was just thinking whether it is a good idea to separate the men into such small groups."

The colonel nodded, "Explain."

"Well, sir. Even if it will make it faster to search all the settlements, it will also make it harder for us to defend ourselves against possible attacks," Marcan said.

Colonel Freud smiled smugly, "Major Rayger, there will be no attacks against us while we are on the planet. The captain is going to hold this Mantis Transport above us in the space and if those black ships do come, they will have to fight through our fighters to get to us."

Marcan nodded sharply, "Yes, sir." He was still not happy with the arrangement, but he saw that there was no way for him to turn the colonel's head in this. He knew that they would be vulnerable if there still were enemies hiding in the forests around the settlements, but there was nothing he could do to help it.

Sgt. Major Ruska was the next one to voice a question. "How far into the forests are we supposed to go?" said the young man. He had thick but short-cropped auburn hair and eyes that seemed to be almost yellow in colour. He had wide shoulders and strong build with a demeanour that told that he was ready to face dangers one-to-one any day of the week.

"Only a couple of miles," the colonel said, "we do not have the time or the man-power to search it better than that." Then he looked around at each one of them before he said, "If there are no more questions, we'll meet again in the launching bay in one hour. Dismissed!"

Marcan stood up and looked at Sheila. She was still typing something into her datapad, but put it away soon and joined him as they walked back towards their quarters. They had spent the previous night together in his quarters and Marcan had realised that he had liked it more than he had expected. It had seemed that they never ran out of things to discuss and even when they were silent it was comfortable silence.

"I think we should take some water and dry food with us, just in case," Sheila said suddenly.

Marcan raised his eyebrows, "You fear that we'll get stranded there?"

"Doesn't hurt to prepare, does it?" Sheila asked dryly.

He laughed, "And here I thought that you were just worried about getting the biggest assault rifle and knives for yourself."

Sheila frowned, "I'm not all about big guns, you know. They just make me more secure." She said the last with a wicked grin and a look at Marcan's crotch-area and he blushed against his nature. Women seemed to be the only ones to cause him to do that, especially Sheila.

"I'll get us some survival gear," she said then. "You go and choose us some proper weaponry. I'd like a powerful rifle if they have such here," she added with a smile.

Marcan laughed and walked away from her, towards the arms depot as Sheila went to their rooms to get the rest of their equipment and after that the spare foodstuffs. At the depot, Marcan found that some others of their expedition force were already there, lining up to get their weapons from the sergeant major who was in charge of the arms depot. Marcan still carried his own personal side-arm, the Sergam-10 pistol, but they all needed something heavier because they had no idea how dangerous the local animal life could get. After the destruction of the humans, all animals would be migrating back to their old pastures, including the potentially dangerous predators.

He got to the end of line and waited for his turn behind Sgt. Major Ruska. Despite his great bulk of muscle, the other man was fortunately about fifteen centimetres shorter than Marcan, so he did not completely disappear behind the strong man. He was also the only one there who had the rank to sign off weapons in Sheila's stead and all the others had to get their own weaponry. He watched as Corporal Puska requested and got his assault rifle and as Sgt. Major Ruska requested for a whole selection of heavy armament, including hunting knives and certain explosives. Marcan smiled as he watched the man stagger away with the arsenal and then turned his attention to the waiting officer.

"What kind of assault rifles do you have here?" he asked casually and concentrated on the following introduction of various weapons. In the end, he chose two similar assault rifles for himself and Sheila with five extra batteries, as well as hunting knives for them both. He signed a receipt for all them and went back to his quarters, wanting to make sure that Sheila was able to pack everything for them.

A little less than an hour later, they were all standing in line in front of Colonel Freud who inspected their gear before they would leave. They all had small equipment satchels over their shoulders and various weapons in their hands and hanging from their belts. Sgt. Major Ruska was the only exception amongst them, as it seemed that he had armed himself for a small war. But when the colonel paid no attention to the big man's gear, Marcan had to assume that it was what Ruska was expected to do.

"Group one, that is me and Davis, will land by the capitol," said the colonel then. "Group two will land by the settlement five kilometres south of the capitol and group three will take the small settlement in the forest and the one on the northern shore. Group four will take the bigger forest-settlement.

"Make sure that your comm-links work, since they are your only connection to the other teams and the only way you can get help quickly if you get into trouble," Colonel Freud said. "Is everything clear?"

"What if one of the teams finishes before the others?" Sergeant Bayman asked.

Colonel Freud's face stayed expressionless, as he answered, "You won't. You use all the extra time to investigate the surrounding wilderness to find any signs of survivors. It is now 10:00 hours and we'll all meet each other outside the capitol at 19:00 hours. Make use of all the time you have. You'll be handing in individual reports tomorrow by midday. More questions?"

No one had more to ask and the colonel ordered them to get into their ships. Each group was to use only one ship and Sheila loaned her Cobra Mk III to the Sergeants Watson and Bayman and got into Castor with Marcan. Once inside, she stood by him as they launched and turned towards the planet. It took them half an hour to get into the lower atmosphere and Sheila used the time to go over the maps of the region of the two settlements that they were to inspect. The seaside was geographically relatively flat, but by the two forest-settlements, which were almost seven kilometres from the shoreline, the ground got more uneven. The one of the settlements that they were headed for had housed only about twenty people and was located by a local river while the other was a bigger village further south, estimated former population at about one hundred people.

Marcan landed Castor by the small forest-settlement first and they got out wearing protective suits. And holding their rifles under their arms. They stood at the top of the entrance ramp and looked around at the destroyed buildings and the fifty-metre high forest that loomed all around. The river was too narrow to offer any sense of openness to the location. The tall trees closed the few houses in as if they were fragile things in need of protection.

"Why was this settlement located here?" Marcan asked aloud.

"According to the files that we uncovered, this was probably the research centre for the local semi-professional xeno-biologists," Sheila answered.

"So we could find some useful data about the local plants and animals from here?" Marcan asked.

Sheila let out a short laugh; "I hope so. It would be nice to know what kind of predators we can expect to confront."

As they walked down the entrance ramp and stepped down on the grass-like growth around the buildings, Marcan looked around the rim of the forest. There seemed to be several paths into the forest from the settlement, but no real roads.

"How do you think they kept in contact with the capitol? They can't have lived here permanently," he asked.

Sheila shrugged, "Probably some kind of a craft that they took down the river to the capitol, perhaps even a hover-car."

"There's no sign of such craft now," Marcan observed.

Sheila nodded and they both walked slowly and warily towards the ruined buildings, carefully eyeing the surrounding forest. Marcan doubted whether they would find a single working computer or an unbroken datacard from any of the buildings. Whoever the people in the black ships were, they had probably cleared away any records that might reveal others their reason for having been there. And the best way to do that was of course by destroying or removing every single datacard and computer in sight.

They walked past the buildings that had been completely levelled, and entered the first one that still had a useful door. It was a small building beside one that had once been a large structure, possibly a storage area or a research area. Once inside, they had enough light to look around because the back wall had collapsed. There were a few computer terminals by the dark coloured walls and some scientific equipment smashed on the floor, as well as a round table with a few chairs thrown here and there around it. Curiously enough, Marcan saw a refreshment dispenser standing intact in a small kitchen while everything else around it was broken.

They picked up two chairs and sat by the computer terminals to see if they were of any use. Marcan tried to turn a couple of them on manually when they failed to respond to voice commands but all he managed to achieve was that one of the terminals started to smoke. He turned it off quickly and made sure that it had not caught on fire. Sheila managed to turn one of the terminals on safely, but the machine did not do anything besides beep error messages. A small examination revealed that the central computer that the terminals were connected to was located in the wall behind the terminals. They inspected the wall to find a way to get access to the computer itself but found laser burns instead. There was a small inlet in the wall, but it had been welded shut with a laser. Upon examination they found more laser burns in the wall, which they had not seen earlier because they got mixed up with the dark colours.

"It seems that someone's had a firefight in here," Sheila observed.

"So they did not manage to kill everyone by bombardment," Marcan said gloomily.

Sheila let out a long sigh, "Whoever they were, they had time to make sure that no one survived. It's more than certain that we'll find no one alive after all this time. Even if they had a wilderness survival specialists amongst the xeno-biologists and there is someone out there, they'll be too far away for us to find them with the time we've got."

Marcan nodded and drew out his Sergam-10 laser pistol. He aimed it at the spot where the small inlet on the wall was welded and fired a couple of times. Then he yanked the cover off and revealed the insides of the computer to them both. "Hopefully we'll know more after examining all this," he said. Then he identified the memory banks that contained the data crystals and examined it carefully. There was a burn-mark on its side, but it seemed that it was otherwise okay.

"We'll better take that back to Castor for transport back to the Mantis," Sheila said. "We have no equipment to access it here."

Marcan shook his head, "I think I may be able to hook it up to Castor's memory banks. I had a mechanic onboard; an android called Petr, who showed me how to fix the computer and how their memory banks are linked. It should be an easy enough task."

Sheila frowned, "If you're sure you know what you are doing."

"I'm sure, and Castor can instruct me if I need help. Come with me and let's get it hooked up. Castor can analyse its contents while we continue with out search," Marcan said and started towards the door. Behind him, Sheila shrugged her shoulders and followed after him. She stopped to pick up one of the better chairs on their way out. Outside the building, little had changed; the extremely tall and lean trees loomed over the few standing buildings and the wind rustled their gigantic leaves. After their landing they had not heard many natural sounds, but now they could hear distant chirps and twitter alongside some more threatening sounds of bigger animals.

Still, there were no animals to be seen in their immediate surroundings and they got back to their ship safely. They decided that it would be wiser to stick together and so Sheila helped Marcan to hook up the scavenged databank onto the ship's AI. Castor personally made sure that he attached the new databank into his secondary systems, where even possible corrupt data could not cause damage to the more vital systems of the AI. It took them an hour to finish up with the work and after it they settled down to eat some of the treasures that Marcan kept in the ship's pantry. They did not touch their provisions, because Sheila had meant them as emergency food if they got stuck in the woods or otherwise on the planet for a longer time-period.

It was only then that Marcan noticed the chair that Sheila had brought into the ship. "What's that?" he asked with his mouth full of bread that he washed down with some juice.

"I have to sit somewhere as well when we fly back to the Mantis. I got tired of standing around on our way down," Sheila explained with a grin.

Marcan grinned even more widely, with breadcrumbs stuck on his teeth, "And here I thought that we would let Castor take care of our return trip and we might make use of my bed back there!"

Sheila just laughed at it and continued eating.

They were finished with their eating and ready to leave the ship again, when both of them stopped at their tracks to hear their comm-links beeping. Marcan glanced at his wrist computer and tapped it to open the voice connection.

"...Watson, come here quickly! Repeat: I have lost Sergeant Watson, come here quickly!"

"This is Major Rayger. What's happened?" Marcan asked from his wrist.

"Sir! We were exploring the forest here when Watson suddenly disappeared! I need help here!" Sergeant Bayman replied.

"Had you separated?"

"No! He was coming right behind me!"

"Can you get back to your ship?" Marcan asked.

"I'm running there right now, but I need help!" the soldier shouted desperately.

"We are coming there! Just hang on and try to get to your ship! Major Rayger out," Marcan said and ran to the pilot's seat.

Sheila came to sit beside him on her new chair and watched as he prepared the ship for lift-off. Her expression told that she was wondering at something, and then she voiced her worries. "Marcan, how come we were the only ones to answer to that distress call?"

"What?" Marcan asked as the ship rose up from the grass and above the trees. Then he turned to look at Sheila with consternation on his face. "Try to call the others one by one. Start from the colonel!"

Sheila clicked at her comm-link and called out for the other members of their expedition team, but could not get either Colonel Freud or Sergeant Davis from group one to answer to her calls. She tried many times and then tried the second team, starting with Sgt. Major Ruska.

The deep voice of the big man replied to her call, "Yes, Sergeant Rasche. What is it?"

"Sgt. Major Ruska, is everything alright there? Why did you not answer to Sergeant Bayman's distress call?" Sheila asked.

"What distress call?" Ruska asked back. "We heard no such thing. What's happened?"

"He called in panic and told that he had lost Sergeant Watson, sir. We are heading towards them right now," Sheila explained.

"Okay. Corporal Puska here suggests that we may have been out of the range of the signal at the time that call came. We were exploring some underground storage rooms that were still mostly intact. Do you require us to come there as well?"

"No, sir," Sheila answered. "I tried to contact the colonel as well, but neither he nor Sergeant Davis are answering any calls either."

"Sergeant, even if we happened to be underground at the moment of the distress call, it's rather improbable that team one happened to be in similar situation at the same time. We'll be heading for the capitol immediately to look for them. Inform me immediately when you find out what's happened to team four!"

"Yes, sir!" Sheila said and closed the connection. She then tried to contact Sergeant Bayman again while Marcan was taking Castor low and fast towards the other forest-settlement. She talked with the escaping soldier and tried to find out where he was running and how long it would take for him to reach the Cobra. Meanwhile, Marcan was having a discussion with Castor.

"Commander, after a preliminary study of the contents of the databank that you attached to me, I have found out something troubling," the AI said in uncustomary low voice in order not to disturb Sergeant Rasche.

"What is it, Castor? Can't it wait?" Marcan asked.

"No, commander, for it seems that the xeno-biologists, however useless they were considered by the local population, knew what they were doing. It seems that they had catalogued many plants of the local wildlife and many wild animals as well. I think that I have found a mention of one predator that could be responsible for Sergeant Watson's disappearance," Castor said.

Marcan snorted in disbelief, "What kind of an animal can take out a whole man without any sign or noise?" He found it more probable that the mysterious people in their black ships had returned.

However, Castor knew nothing of his preferences and continued to explain him what he had found. "There are numerous different food-chains at work on this planet, leading up to various animal predators, but one of the most interesting predator is actually a plant. Certain Professor Philip Masterson happened upon this plant while it was preying and it was the first time that they realised how dangerous that harmless-looking plant could be."

"Skip the details, Castor! Tell me what kind of a plant it is and how it hunts so that we can warn the others!" Marcan exclaimed loudly, alerting Sheila to their conversation.

"A plant is causing all this?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, Sergeant Rasche, it is very probable under the circumstances," Castor said. "It is a recent discovery, dating only a few days before the attacks on this planet. Professor Masterson describes the plant with the name Judd's Red Jewel and tells that it is a tall flower-like plant with long them and a red bloom. Long narrow leaves grow at the point where the plant exits from the ground."

Everything that Castor said was transmitted through the comm-link to Sergeant Bayman who was running from an invisible enemy and told him to beware the plants that fitted the computer's description.

"The plant hunts with its underground parts, by suddenly sucking down any hapless animal that wanders too close in search of food. The plant emits a scent that resembles that of many edible plants in the area and thus attracts the prey animals to it," Castor finished the description.

Marcan was listening to the description with horror. He and Luke had buried the kid's father by that very same type of plant. Even if the sergeant had not fallen prey to the plant, but had been taken by much more human enemies, the fact that he and Luke had practically fed the dead old man to a flesh eating plant, disgusted Marcan tremendously. He felt cold shivers running down his back when he realised that he and Luke had also been in deadly danger as they had dug the grave beside the plant. If they had bumped into the flower's underground, there was no telling what would have happened to them.

Marcan took a grip of his own emotions and concentrated on the situation at hand. The fact that the first team had disappeared as well, probably inside the city perimeter, told him that Judd's Red Jewel might not be the only possibility to their situation. He grabbed Sheila's hand and drew the comm-link to his face.

"Sergeant Bayman, you heard the description of the plant that you should be careful to avoid. But do not count out other kind of enemies either. We'll be soon there to pick you up, so get to an open area quickly!"

He took Castor lower and closer to the tops of the trees when they closed in on the area of the settlement that the two sergeants had been sent to inspect. When the settlement came into the view, it became immediately clear why the two men had moved to search the forest so soon. All the buildings had been completely levelled and there was simply nothing left to look for in the village.

Then Marcan spotted the Cobra Mk III. It was landed by the forest on the far side of the clearing, only a few metres from the first trees. And what was more, there was movement around it. Marcan could count at least three people in protective suits walking around the craft.

He immediately sent a message to the Mantis Transport and to Sgt. Major Ruska of what he saw and told them that the people in black ships had come back. With their cloaking devices, they could get in and out of the planet without anyone knowing anything about it or seeing anything either.

As soon as he saw the three figures by the ship, they also saw him and one of them ran into the forest while the two others ran inside the Cobra. Sheila watched helplessly as her ship was being taken away.

"Major Rayger!" a voice said through the comm-link. It was Sergeant Bayman.

"What is it sergeant?" Marcan asked.

"I'm on the western side of the clearing. Get me out of here quickly! I can see what's happening and I think there are people after me just now!" the sergeant spoke between heavy pants. It was clear that he had run a long way to get there.

Marcan saw the Cobra being stolen and considered what he should do. He had to save the soldier from their enemies, but he could not just let them steal one of their medium fighters, and especially not Sheila's fighter. He looked at the woman to let her now that he was waiting for her decision.

"Shoot it down," she said crisply. "The military laser must not fall into their hands!"

Marcan grimaced, "Castor, target the Cobra now!"

"The Cobra Mk III targeted, commander," the AI replied unnecessarily. Marcan could see the red square marking the other ship on their main view screen doubling as the window. He hit the trigger and one of his Naval Missiles flew towards the Cobra that was only then getting up from the ground. Then the one of the enemies who had ran into the forest appeared back, carrying a portable missile launcher and fired back at Castor.

Marcan swerved the ship aside and away from the direct line of fire and hit E.C.M. almost before the enemy had launched the missile. Because Castor's missiles were the naval versions, they were immune even to the Naval E.C.M., but the surface-to-air missile was not. It exploded immediately after it had been launched and took the man who had fired it with it. A millisecond later, the other missile hit the Cobra and the force of the explosion caused it to veer aside towards the trees. It did not hit them though and managed to get up anyway.

For a second Marcan thought that he should follow after it, but then he remembered Sergeant Bayman who was still on the ground. The life of the soldier was much more important to him than the theft of the Cobra and the military laser. He shot a stray laser pulse after the escaping ship and took Castor towards the western end of the clearing, where the sergeant had said he was waiting.

Once there, he took Castor lower and turned it around to get a complete view of the forest perimeter. At first he saw no one, but then the sergeant jumped up from behind a large bush and started running towards them. Marcan extended the entrance ramp, even though they were not landed, and took the ship low enough for the sergeant to be able to jump on it and get inside. As they had no idea how many enemies there were in the forest with missile launchers, he wanted to be ready to get away as quickly as possible.

Suddenly a second figure appeared behind the running sergeant when he had just cleared the forest. It was again someone in a protective suit and thus completely unidentifiable. The stranger held a laser rifle in his hands and aimed at the back of sergeant Bayman. There was nothing Marcan could do except watch, because the sergeant was between him and the enemy. He did not even have time to warn the poor bastard before the laser rifle opened fire and burned through the soldier's back.

As the soldier fell with his chest completely burned, Marcan scowled and growled as he pressed the trigger of his own weapon and let the powerful 5mw pulse laser cut through the trees and the undergrowth. He did not release the trigger until Sheila rested her hand on his shoulder and told him to stop. Marcan would not have been able to stop if it had been someone else touching his shoulder, but because it was Sheila, he stopped immediately. Everything that was left in his expression of the hate and frustration he had felt, were the tears that ran down his cheeks as he looked at the destruction that he had caused.

Several tall trees had fallen aside and were now leaning against the other tall trees, and the large bushes had been burned to ground. The laser pulses had even destroyed one of the water-gatherer plants and now the ground under it was flooding. There was no sign of the enemy in the midst of the destruction, but Marcan knew that no one could have survived the deadly chaos that he had just let loose. However, all his shooting had done nothing to make the situation any better; the good soldier still lay dead on the ground just a few metres from the trees.

And the situation did not turn to any better when Castor suddenly said, "The Mantis Transport is sending a message, commander."

"Put it through, Castor," Sheila said, noticing Marcan's stunned silence. Although he had seen many men die before, he had never felt as inadequate as now. Only when Sergeant Troy had suddenly turned against him and his fellow pilots had he felt something even remotely similar. Back then it had been shock and horror at the betrayal of his trusted teacher, now it was the same feelings but for a different reason.

"This is the Mantis Transport. We are under an attack. Repeat: we are under an attack! Get up here and defend us!" was the message that Castor put through the bridge speakers.

"Oh, no!" Sheila gasped.

Marcan shook his head to clear it of the useless feelings that tried to succumb him and touched his comm-link, "Sergeant Major Ruska, can you hear me?"

There was only a moment's delay before the answer came, "Yes, Major."

"What is your situation? Have you found the colonel?" Marcan asked.

"No, not yet, sir. We found their Merlin by the city and we are now proceeding on foot towards the city centre, but thus far we have not seen anyone. They have not answered to any of our calls either," the big man said. Marcan could hear a sign of desperation in his voice.

"Sgt. Major, the Mantis Transport is under an attack. Return to your craft and get up there as quickly as you can!"

"But, sir, the colonel..."

Marcan interrupted the other man brutally, "Ruska, if the colonel is not yet dead, he is safe where he is right now. However, the Mantis up there is our only ticket out of this system and back to the civilisation! Get up there and make sure that we have a way out of here!"

"Yes, sir. Immediately, sir!" came the obedient answer, with no sign of the earlier desperation.

After the communication, Marcan turned Castor towards the upper reached of the atmosphere and accelerated as fast as the ship could. It was true that the Mantis was their only ticket out of the far system, because all the fighters had only military drives and there was not much fuel for them in these systems. With conventional hydrogen drives one could always scoop up more fuel from gas giants and even from some cooler stars.

And, alone, the Mantis was not too well protected and would not be able to hold its own for long if the attacking force was big enough. With its eight missile tubes and four gun mounts, that all had military lasers on them, it was one of the best-protected ships in the Federal Military. But not even a good ship could hold out for long against a horde of attackers, especially if they all had cloaking devices.

It took them a few minutes to reach the orbit and get to the battle scene, but they were lucky enough to find that the Mantis was still there. And on the scanner he saw that two more ships were climbing away from the planet's gravity field. He knew that they would be Sgt. Major Ruska and Corporal Puska on the two ships left on the planet, unless they had found the colonel in time to bring him back as well. If they had not, they had lost four good men on the planet for nothing. The reason of the black ships to attack the system was still unknown.

The fight around the Mantis was exactly as hopeless as it could be. On his scanner, Marcan saw that several small craft were blinking in and out of existence around the big ship and draining Mantis's shields quickly. And on the view screen, the black ships were hard to spot with a naked eye. If Captain Thames had sent any fighters out to fight the small black fighters, they had all been destroyed already.

"Commander," Castor said suddenly.

"What is it Castor?" Marcan asked.

"I have analysed the scanner images for several times, commander, and it seems that the cloaking devices are not presently making the ships completely invisible," the AI said calmly.

"What do you mean, Castor?" Marcan asked. He had used a cloaking device himself and no one had ever been able to spot him when he had had it on. He could not imagine how Castor could claim that the enemy craft were now somehow detectable.

"Commander, it is evident that the remnants of the planetary atmosphere at this height disrupts the cloaking devices enough to give the scanner a weak but definite signal. The signal is so weak that it does not reach the intensity necessary for it to be displayed on the screen, but the sensors still pick them up," Castor lectured again.

"Then make them show on my screen, and fast!" Marcan exclaimed.

The scanner screen flickered and was first filled with static, but then some of the grey noise cleared away and weak signals of the ships could see even after they had turned on the cloaking devices. Sheila, who was sitting on her scavenged chair, gasped at the view through the main window as the space around the Mantis was suddenly filled with ghost-like ships.

"Castor, can you make the ones using the device appear green on the scanner?" Marcan asked. He planned to show the enemy who they were dealing with and possibly scare them away by attacking one of the ships that he was not supposed to be able to see. This time, Castor did not waste time acknowledging his command, but turned some of the clubs on the screen green immediately. Even though the ships kept appearing and disappearing from the normal view, he soon picked out a target that had turned away from the Mantis and had turned to intercept Castor, believing that his approach was not seen.

Marcan smiled ruefully and targeted the approaching ship. Then he made some manoeuvres and, as if by accident, faced the ship that was coming his way. Immediately he fired his lasers and to his satisfaction saw how smoke started to erupt from previously empty space. Then the still invisible enemy finally turned aside and tried desperately to avoid being hit again. Marcan didn't care. He showed no mercy when he fired the last shot and the enemy craft burst into very visible flames.

Then he turned towards another target and started shooting again. He noticed how every club on the screen, except the Mantis and the recently returned two Merlins, had turned green. It seemed that the enemies were trying to hide in order to re-evaluate the situation. He had time to destroy another ship before the enemy seemed to truly realise what was happening.

"Unknown craft, please cease fire," came suddenly through the speakers on Castor's bridge.

Marcan frowned. "Castor, send my answer on the same frequency," he said and when Castor reported that he was ready, Marcan said, "Why?"

The voice on the other end sounded doleful, "We need to discuss this all."

Marcan laughed aloud, "Discuss? That does not seem to be high on your list of things to do!"

"We are sorry about that, but it was necessary. Please, cease fire and let us explain."

Suddenly Sheila touched Marcan's shoulder again, "Marcan, do what they ask."

And again Marcan felt helpless at her touch and did what she wanted. "I will stop shooting if you allow me to send this discussion over to the Mantis as well. They need to know that they are safe for the moment."

"Do that, then," replied the voice and Marcan told Sheila to send every bit of their discussion to the Mantis.

When the connection was ready, Marcan talked again, "Now, explain why you attacked these colonies and killed everyone here. And explain, if you can, why you destroyed the military Skeet Cruiser that visited this system as well. And do explain why your men killed four of us down on that planet!" With every word that he said, Marcan's voice grew angrier until he almost roared the last words.

"Federation soldiers," the voice started, his words transmitted to the crew of the Mantis as well as to Castor. "We are here to protect the sentient species of Tiessar 2 so that they can evolve on their own. We destroyed the local population, because they took no heed of our advance warnings and continued to harass the indigenous life forms. After that, our intention was to scare everyone else away, but we did not realise that you might have the advanced technology to detect us even with the cloaking devices. However, we will destroy your ships if you do not withdraw from this system immediately!"

"You had no right to attack and destroy the federal military Skeet Cruiser when it visited this system a few months ago. That is the reason we are here now!" Marcan said back.

Against Marcan's hopes, his comment did not cause the enemy to hesitate even for a single second, "The Federal Military has no business in this system in the first place, this is an independent frontier system and it is presently under our jurisdiction. Unless you want to start a war, I urge you to hasten away."

Marcan frowned. He felt Sheila's hand on his shoulder again and it helped him to think more clearly at what the enemy pilot was saying. They had hit the bull's-eye with that remark. The military really had no reason to be there, other than to examine what had happened to the Skeet Cruiser and who was in control of the cloaking devices. As it seemed now, they were not imperials, and as such they were not presenting the danger the Federation had feared.

As Marcan had no rank to decide their actions, he said, "Give me a few minutes to discuss this with the others."

"You have two minutes," the enemy pilot said.

Marcan closed the connection and contacted the Mantis. It was Captain Edward Thames himself who answered, and he asked the first question.

"Major, we cannot let them keep those cloaking devices! If you'll tell us how you were able to detect and attack their ships while they were cloaked, we'll destroy them all!" There was anger in the captain's voice when he said that.

If the connection had not been secure, Marcan would not have told the truth, but there were some advantages to work for the FMI. "Sir, I'm sorry but I detected them only because they were manoeuvring so close to the atmosphere. The bulk of their force is still invisible even to my sensors. Furthermore, I'm sure that they are powerful enough to destroy us even if this was a fair fight. My attack only made them think their tactics again. Whoever they are, sir, I suggest that we do what they tell us."

"This is not your decision, Major Rayger," the captain said.

"Yes, sir. I understand that, sir. It was only a suggestion," Marcan answered.

"Yes, major. However, I think that we should put our agents to work on this and find out more about this new kind of enemy before we hasten to start a war against them," the captain mused aloud.

"Yes, sir. And if what they said was true, they were only doing what the Federation would have done in any case; stop the people here from destroying the local sentient species," Marcan said.

"Correct, major..." the captain began, but his sentence was cut short when the enemy opened communications again.

"Federation ships, have you decided to leave this system behind and save your lives?" the crisp voice asked.

Marcan frowned. He was not sure whether the captain had decided their actions yet or not and he took a risk when he said, "Bandits, this is Major Marcan Rayger of the Federal Military. The Federation concedes that this system is presently outside our jurisdiction and we will leave in short order. However, we need to know who you are before we do so."

"Major Rayger, that information cannot be divulged currently. Yet, we wish to assure that we have nothing against the Federation. Our only concern is the preservation of alien sentient life-forms and you may call us Sentinels," the voice answered over the comm-channels.

Marcan sighed. It seemed that he could not get any information about their enemies. He tried the last card that he held, tasting the strange call-sign as the same time, "Sentinels, you are in possession of technology that is the sole property of the Federation. Will you tell us where you got it from?"

"Are you trying to stall, Major Rayger?" the voice said. "The technology of the cloaking devices is not owned by anyone. Now, take your ship to the Mantis and get out of here, or we will destroy you!" With that, the communication link was cut.

Marcan sighed and told Castor to dock on the transport. When the autopilot hit in, he turned to look at Sheila. She looked back at him and smiled, "It's as if you never left the military in the first place, Marcan. You did a brilliant job!"

Marcan smiled and shook his head, "They had the upper hand the whole time, Sheila. I achieved nothing."

"Yes you did. You stopped their attack and gave us a chance to get out of here in one piece," she put back.

"No. Castor did that," Marcan smiled, "I never knew these civilian AIs could be this smart."

Sheila frowned, "They aren't supposed to be, you know. It seems to me that your Castor here is smarter than most high-tech androids out there."

Her comment kept coming back to Marcan's thoughts as he observed Castor taking them towards the bigger craft. He would have liked to know who had programmed the AI's personality and what caused it to be so independent. He hoped that once he found the other ship, some answers would be found as well.

When they had docked onto the Mantis and rejoined with Sgt. Major Ruska and Corporal Puska, they all headed towards the bridge to see the captain. They had all, naturally, left their heavy weaponry in their ships and wore only their uniforms and small side arms.

Once they got to the bridge, Marcan saw the captain looking at the outside view in the main view screen. He wore his FMI uniform and stood still, clearly thinking. The FMI Colonels Darman and Canarbe were standing close-by.

"Sir! Major Rayger reports in," Marcan said.

The captain was clearly surprised as he turned around to confront them. "Major Rayger? Where's Colonel Freud?"

Marcan grimaced. Apparently, no one had had time to inform the captain what had happened to most of their team. "Sir, I'm sorry to report that Colonel Freud was one of the men we lost on the surface," he said.

"Oh, hell!" Captain Thames exclaimed and shook his head. "How did it happen?"

Marcan grimaced, "Unknown, sir. We lost contact with him and I sent the second team, that is Sgt. Major Ruska and Corporal Puska to investigate. They were not able to either find them or make contact with them with the comm-links. It is the same way we lost Sergeant Watson, who also disappeared without a trace."

The captain shook his head in dismay; "You'll make a full report to me once we have got out of here. But now our biggest problem is if they are really going to let us go, or if they simply wanted us all in the same egg basket."

"Yes, sir," Marcan said, then he turned to look at the main view screen. There was nothing to be seen except the planet and the few stars that could still be seen in its brilliance, but he was sure that the black ships were all around them, ready to destroy them if they chose to.

Still, now that it was almost certain that those flying the black ships were not Imperials or mere criminals, Marcan was more certain than ever that he would not reveal what he knew of the unknown craft. And, in fact, he knew nothing. It was only an assumption that he had of the ships being somehow modified Mambas and that they thus possibly originated from the Vera Industries. It would be a long time before he was going to know anything for certain.

They had been away from the Federation space for over two months when they arrived to Vetifa in sector 6,2. It was the closest Federal system to Tiessar and the first system where they could contact with the military and report what they had found out and what had happened. During the journey back, Castor had finished analysing the databank that Marcan had installed, and reported that it contained general information only of the plants and animals of the garden world. There was no mention of any sentient life forms, but that did not prove anything. If the people had wanted to make sure that they were allowed to settle the world, they were surely going to make sure that no information of any possible sentient life forms leaked to the outside world. And, as far as Marcan knew, the Judd's Red Jewel, the flesh-eating plant, had to be quite sentient for it to be able to hunt the way it did.

On their way back, he had spent several afternoons with Luke Eyewalker, teaching him to fly with the simulators. The boy seemed to be rather preoccupied with the new project, and Marcan had heard that he had been seen at the simulators even at some nights. Marcan feared that Luke was driven in his studies by his hate towards the people who had killed his father and destroyed his people. He knew that it was not the best possible source of motivation, but he was not the man to teach anyone about such things, considering his own desire to avenge first to Sergeant Troy and then to Mr Jones.

But it had been only the afternoons that he had spent with the boy. Apart from the few meetings with Captain Thames and the two female colonels, the rest of the time he had spent in Sheila's company. Despite his earlier belief that their relationship had no real future, he was now feeling more and more happy in her company. She had a calming effect on him, as if her company could lift the veil of sobriety from his mind and restored his strength and vigour. It was she who had kept him from attacking the black ships in mad rage and made him think his actions and the situation more clearly. He knew that if she had been with him a few months ago, he would never have killed Mr Jones.

Vetifa was the system where their paths were going to go their separate ways, however. Marcan planned to return to sector -3,-6, the sector where Lave and Leesti were located and where he had left the wanted message on Polydeuces. He planned to wait until he heard whether the military had any knowledge of the missing craft before he left, however. It also gave him a little more time to spend with Sheila.

On the last day before they docked on the local spaceport, Sheila had come to his living quarters and sat down on his bed while he had been showering. When he came out, drying himself with a rough cloth, she told him the latest news.

"Marcan, they have found your Polydeuces."

Stunned, he looked at her and asked, "Where is it?"

Sheila looked back at him and smiled, "You were correct when you assumed that it had never come back to either Federal or Imperial space. It is apparently still in the frontier systems. Have you heard of a system called Ethenbe?"

Marcan shook his head, his hair dripping water all over the plain floor.

"It's in the sector -8,-6 and it's an independent frontier system, a dictatorship at that. One of our agents there has sent in reports over the years and a ship matching to the description you gave us was found in one of his older reports in the FMI database," Sheila told him.

Marcan frowned at that, "What's so special about this system that FMI has an agent stationed there?"

"The system is under Federal interdict. It's illegal to visit that system," Sheila said.

Marcan smiled ruefully at that. That was how politics worked these days. If the politics of one system did not satisfy one of the big ones they could make it illegal for civilians to visit the place. It was not just forbidden to have trade relations with the system, it was illegal to even jump into the system, to even go and have a look at it. He wondered what that meant for the future of Tiessar.

"I have to go there, interdict or not," he said to her.

Sheila smiled at that, "I'm sure you will. Just don't let anyone see your flight record afterwards."

"No, I won't," Marcan said. Then he added, "You know what this means, don't you?"

She nodded, "You're leaving."

Marcan dried his hair to have a moment to collect his thoughts. He had not prepared to say goodbyes so soon. Somehow he had believed that they had until the ship docked on the local spaceport before he would have to go.

"You could come with me," he said.

She shook her head, "No, I'm facing a promotion after this mission and that will mean higher pay. Perhaps I'll retire and come for you in a few years, but I cannot leave now. I don't think that I'd cut it as a trader."

"How about if we both went to work for that bubble-colony?" Marcan asked. "They would surely pay us well for our services."

"I thought you did not want to work for anyone anymore?"

He smiled at that, "You see how that's worked? The military will probably request my services as long as they can find me. In that colony, I'd be invisible!"

"I thought you were doing rather well," she said.

Marcan raised an eyebrow. He had not told anyone how much he had been paid by the Bardoff's Trust Fund and how much Vera Industries had promised him for Polydeuces. He was going to be a rich man, that was for certain. Perhaps it was what he had wanted when he had left the military and took up trading, but it was not all. He was still not happy.

"I don't feel it," he said and sat down beside the woman. Her sharp nose flared as she felt his nakedness so close. "I feel that I need more to be happy. Money is not enough."

Sheila smiled, "I know when you are happy. You enjoy adventures and mysteries. I guess the bubble-colony might offer you all that, with the bonobos and all."

"Talking monkeys and mysteries are not all that make me happy," Marcan said and looked into her eyes. "There's one more thing that I desire."

She did not smile when she looked back at him; "We tried it once already."

Marcan smiled sadly at that and drew slightly away from her, "Yes, we did, didn't we? But I think it might be different this time."

She shook her head, "No, it wouldn't. Maybe you are finding what you like about in life, but I still have some way to go. At the moment I'm a soldier, and I feel that I have to continue being one for a while yet."

"But the bubble-colony will need soldiers as well," Marcan said.

Sheila raised her hands at his chest and pushed him gently away, "Don't try to turn my head, Marcan. Maybe things will be different in a few years, but not yet."

He fell silent and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He knew that Sheila was right, but that did not make it feel good to him. He would have liked to have her in his life and the military as far away from them as possible. But it was not what she wanted and he could not force it onto her.

A moment later they hugged each other for farewell and he went to see the captain for the last time. Captain Thames had been his superior officer during the mission and it was from him that he had to get a permission to leave the Mantis. The report that he had given to the captain about their mission on the surface of the Tiessar 2 had not led to too many questions. The dark-haired colonel, Uma Darman, had not found anything to complain about his actions, but she noted that Colonel Freud should not have divided them into that small groups. It was exactly what Marcan had thought at the time, but he did not blow his own horn by revealing it now. Even if he had not liked Colonel Freud too much, he respected his memory and did not want to throw dirt at it.

The last meeting with Captain Thames did not take long, but long enough for Marcan to see that the captain did not like to see him going. He said that they needed men like him in the military, and that he had not liked it when they had had to blackmail him into working for them. He had even promised a decent pay if he were to come back, but he could not persuade Marcan any more than Sheila. The captain had given up in the end and let him go, wishing him good luck and giving him a nominal payment for his services.

It was on his way back from that last meeting with the captain, when he came upon Luke. The boy's expression told of alarm and anxiety.

"What is it, Luke?" Marcan asked.

The boy looked at him apprehensively. "I heard that you were leaving already," Luke said.

He nodded, "Yes, I found out what I needed to before leaving. I have to take care of some personal business and leave the military behind until they reel me back in again."

"Will you take me with you?" Luke asked, looking at anything but Marcan's eyes.

Marcan was stunned. He had not fully realised that Luke might not have a place to go now that he had been forced to leave his old home. He did not even know whether the boy had any money to get along. "Luke, my road is a dangerous one. It might be better for you to stay aboard until the military takes you to some safe system where you can continue your studies in linguistics."

Luke sneered, "I have studied enough linguistics to last a life-time! It's time for me to try something different for a change."

Marcan nodded, "Yes, that might very well be, but you shouldn't be doing it for the reasons you are doing it for. You should first deal with the hate and hatred that you feel at the present. Only after that will you be ready to make such choices." He felt hypocritical by saying that, but he felt that he had to do at least something to make sure that the boy did not make the gravest mistake in his life.

The sneer did not leave the seventeen-year-old boy's face, "I'm not doing this for hate, commander. I just feel that I have to do something else to take my thoughts away from what has happened. If I were to read and study, I would just be reminded of the time I spent with my father in that colony, doing the same thing! I need to air myself."

Marcan smiled, "I can understand that, Luke. But there is also the fact that my ship is designed for one pilot only. The systems cannot sustain two people for too long."

Luke nodded, "Then take me as far as you want to and then help me to buy myself a ship of my own."

There was nothing he could say to that, and he had to accede to the boy's request. In fact, he did not dislike the idea of having a little company for a small part of his journey. It wasn't as if he would not have enough time to spend alone later.

Soon after that, Marcan was back onboard Castor, the cargo hold full of military fuel and ready to go and search for Castor's brother. Luke sat beside him on the movable chair that Sheila had carried onboard and observed carefully every move and manoeuvre that Marcan made. The journey to Ethenbe would take him for at least a month, depending on how many times he was going to have to find more fuel on the way, but he did not think about that. What he thought when he launched the ship and chose his first hyperspace jump target, was Sheila. He wondered when they would meet again.