The quiet awoke Rene. It wasn’t true quiet, there was still the gentle clicks and hums of a thousand background systems running at idle but the omnipresent roar of the storm was gone. A day and a half had passed since their eventful landing and in all that time the roar of the storm had pressed against them so omnipresently as to become the norm. Now that it was gone Rene could feel its lack. Solae shifted under the covers, perhaps subconsciously noticing the lack of howling wind also. They had dispensed with setting watches, with only two of them it wasn’t very practical, a lone watchman was as good as no watchmen if the enemy were able to pick you off before you could raise the alarm and besides anything that could move through the storm would certainly be picked up by the Bonaventure’s sensors before it was picked up by the eyes and ears of two humans. Instead they had spent the time in pleasant domesticity, preparing meals, working on parts of the ship and talking of things that didn’t have to do with the rebellion or their immediate plans. They seemed to have arrived at an unspoken truce that no one would bring up the next stage until the storm had passed. Which, apparently, it had.

Solae sat up beside him blinking sleepily. Even with mused hair and peering owlishly into the darkness, she was heart stoppingly beautiful. Rene reached out a hand and lay it comfortingly against her cheek, feeling her vibrant warmth against his skin. Part of him wanted to stay here, just curl up and go back to sleep and forget everything that waited beyond the starships steel hull. It almost felt like he was tearing himself free of a tether to force his mouth to move.

“I’ll take a look outside,” he said, more regret slipping into his words than he had anticipated. Before he could talk himself out of it he stepped out of bed and pulled on his boots. He dressed in the simple clothes he had gotten from Min Ho, judging his uniform to be too dangerous. They had no specific wet weather gear, the Bonaventure clearly didn’t expect to do much of this kind of thing, so he pulled on one of the canvas ponchos tha the engineer had used as a shield when welding. It was heavy and stained with grease, but probably as water resistant a garment as they had aboard. Thus attired the collected one of the carbines from the tool storage bin he was using as an arms locker. It was a simple electrochemical model taken from the slavers, far simpler than his own weapons but, like a uniform, an Imperial side arm was likely to garner to much attention. Turning he found Solae standing in the hatch way pulling on her own clothing. She arched an eyebrow at his expression.

“Everything you said about keeping watch applies double to scouting around,” she said with a hint of tart in her voice.

“What if you are hurt and cant make it back?” Although the tone softened a little it clearly wasn’t a discussion. Rene could hardly blame her after days cooped up on the ship. Lifting his right palm in the courtly gesture of mock surrender he fished the pistol she had used back at Amber Horizon from the battered tool box, checked the load and safety, and passed it to her but first. It was clear that she didn’t like guns, but he didn’t want to scout even a deserted island without her having at least something. It was probably more of a security blanket for him than anything else.

“As my lady wishes,” he said with a grin. Besides he prefered to be in her company even if that entailed a little risk.

As the ramp descended into the still glowing water the sound of the wind rushed in. In his mind Rene had expected the storm to be completely passed, but he hadn’t accounted for the bulk of the Bonaventure’s hull, it was no longer howling but the wind still blew strong as the tail end of the storm dragged at the air. Moisture still misted in the air, although Rene couldn’t have said for sure whether it was true precipitation or just moisture picked up by the wind here in the Caldrea.

“Let’s move carefully,” he called over the wind, “We don’t know what's under the water!” Without waiting he sloshed into the thigh deep pool and began wading towards where some ancient fluke of geology had tumbled down some of the cinder cone, creating a breach in the caldera. Instinctively he raised the carbine above his head, keeping the weapon as dry as he could, despite the fact it was certainly sealed against moisture. The footing was treacherous, the caldrea must once have been a small forest of the coral like trees, but a combination of the storm and the ships back blast had flattened them. The thigh thick trunks covered the bottom of the pool and they had to move carefully to keep their footing. Despite the improvised garments they were both soaked and sparkling with phosphorescent motes by the time they reached the crumbled section.

The oceans of Panopontus were a peculiar shade of green, there was a grayish cast to the wavelets as they climbed up and out of the caldera. The island sloped gently away from the gutted hill of the ancient volcano. Small ferns whipped and waved in the wind, it seemed to Rene a miracle that the hurricane hadn’t stripped the small plants completely. Evidently the little plants were tougher than they appeared. There was a sand beach a hundred meters down the slope, jagged pieces of multicolored coral covered most of the beach doubtlessly torn up by the storm and the surging tides the winds drove against the beach. Eddies and sucking vortices in the gray green waters marked reefs or shoals hidden beneath the ocean. Rene was just about to comment on this when a small creature burst from the undergrowth swinging a stick at his head. It was so sudden and unexpected that he only barely managed to get his carbine between his skull and the blow. The shock of contact jarred his hand but he held onto the weapon, with instinct that would have made his close combat instructors proud he shoved of and drew the carbine back to deliver a crushing stroke to the things skull.

“No!” Solae shouted and the creature fell back, dropping its stick in terror. Rene checked his stroke. Stars above it was a child.

The girl that had attacked Rene and had nearly been struck in retaliation was as filthy as she was terrified. Instead of being covered in the phosphorescent algae that clung to the soldier and diplomat, which gave the pair an ethereal glow, she was caked in sand and salt left behind by evaporating sea water. Her lips were cracked and chapped from what Solae speculated was mild dehydration as there was no fresh water readily available on the beach. A long thick braid was ragged and half undone by the merciless wind, her hair plastered to her face and shoulders, and painfully tangled. The child's clothing was also ripped in several places and threadbare even where it had been left largely intact. Haggard, scared, and hungry, she was a shadow of the lively and healthy adolescent she must have been a week prior before the hurricane struck and left her stranded on this deserted island. It was nearly impossible for the linguist to conjure an image of what the girl might look like smiling and nourished.

As traumatized as she clearly was, Rene looked equally horrified at what might have occurred if he had not been stopped from swinging downward. Were his more petite companion launching a counter strike then the damage would be minimal if not negligible. Fortunately for him and unfortunately for his adversaries he had the benefit of combat training, years training and toiling to build muscle on a body already genetically disposed to tone more quickly, and swift reflexes undoubtedly also owing to certain scientific interventions of his ancestors. He could have killed her. The realization must have struck Rene the instant he dropped his arm for he fell mute and looked vaguely ill. His empathy in the face of adversity and concentrated efforts by his superiors to foster indifference made Solae love him that much more fiercely. Another marine might have shrugged and justified his instincts by rationalizing it was provoked- if they tried to excuse their actions at all. Had Rene slain an innocent he may have never forgiven himself even if it was purely accidental.

"Are you hurt?" she asked the girl gently. It was difficult to discern age but the girl was clearly pre-pubescent. If she was forced to make an estimation she would wager the young female was approximately nine or ten years old. The youth had backed several steps away from both of them and glanced back and forth with obvious skepticism. Solae was trying to keep her from bolting though even if she did there was not much danger in her flight- the adults were faster sprinters and there was no escaping the island without the aid of a boat of some sort.

After a moment's hesitation the girl shook her head vigorously to indicate no, she was not injured. Relief washed over the woman's features and she allowed herself a brief smile at her paramour for reassurance. Because he might be shaken she wanted him to be calmed by the knowledge no real harm had been done.

"I'm Solae and this is Rene," she introduced slowly. Using false identities might have been the more responsible course of action, considering there was a bounty on her head and they should be cautious about broadcasting Rene's survival, but she wouldn't sink so low as to lie to a vulnerable child. Even in war she had her scruples. "What's your name?"

Again the girl gave pause. She had not retreated farther but was obviously unsettled more by Rene's stature and weapon than she was of Solae. With the latter she stared unabashedly at the unusual hair color, which was glimmering like pale spun gold, that was so captivating. More than anything it told the child that these two did not belong because no one on Panopontus. None she knew had their colouring of skin or their angular facial features, much such a delicate hair hue. "Damaris," she whispered finally. If they were stranded because of the typhoon it might make them trustworthy. Every once in a while there were vacationers that wanted to see the exotic "world of water."

"That is a lovely name," Solae complimented with a soft smile as she knelt down in the wet sand. This made her shorter than the juvenile and hopefully less intimidating. Most of her professional life had been dealing with narcissistic officials and pompous government employees, so she was slightly out of her depth when it came to juveniles, though she thought she was making a good first impression given the circumstances.

"How long have you been out here, Damaris?" she asked gently.

"The storm carried me here," was the only response. Now that she had said a few words- rather than just one- it was clear she spoke with a different dialect than they personally utilized. There were no errors with her syntax or vernacular, but the enunciation was halted and syllable emphasis not quite correct, which was indicative of the fact this was probably not her first language. Solae could try to tease out of the girl what her first spoken language was but only once they were no longer exposed to the elements and any passing ships.

"Are you hungry and thirsty? If you promise not to try to hit my friend Rene again we can take you to our... shelter," she improvised. It was a huge risk to take but they couldn't have helpless Damaris wasting away on the outer edges of the caldera. Anything less than sharing in their rations would be unconscionable.

“Are you.. Are you a princess?” the girl asked, her voice quivering with fear and exhaustion. With the wind whipping about some of the aurite strands had come free, waving about in a pale golden halo. Even without the soft glow it must have seemed to the girl as though she had encountered an angel. Rene hovered in a moment of indecision, suddenly embarrassed to be holding a weapon but at a loss for what to do with it. As unobtrusively as he could he slung the weapon over his back and tightened the carry strap to free his hands. It was a miracle the girl was alive, both that she had survived being swept out to sea and that she had avoided death on the reefs which churned the water beyond the shore. Over and above even that she had clearly been exposed in the teeth of the storm for hours or days. Now that he had the leisure to examine her, he saw dozens of small cuts and scrapes, perhaps from the coral or from flying debris.

Solae laughed musically at the question, though in truth she was as close to a princess as anyone on Panopontus was likely to meet.

“No, I’m not a princess, just a traveller,” the noblewoman said. The girl made a sniffing sound and Rene realised that she would probably be crying if she weren’t so dehydrated. Carefully, so as not to startle the girl with a sudden movement, he detached his canteen from the webbing belt he wore and passed it to Solae. Dramaris’ eyes flicked to him nervously and he tried to make his face as pleasant and non-threatening as he could. Solae unscrewed the cap and passed it to the girl who snatched it greedily from her hands, pressing the rubberized zero-g nipple to her mouth and sucking eagerly.

“Careful,” Rene cautioned, “Drink it slowly or you will make yourself sick.” If the girl heeded the warning it wasn’t until she had swallowed half the contents that she managed to pull her lips aways. Water spilled from her mouth as her thirst exceeded her capacity and she licked at her parched lips. Having done his six weeks of desert survival training on the Marine reservation at Ketaman Rene could only sympathize.

“I don’t feel good,” the girl whimpered and then promptly vomited up the water she had just drank in a convulsive gout. Mewling softly she fell forward into Solae’s arms, her small frame shaking. Rene stooped and picked the canteen up of the sand, brushing the nipple clean and handing it back to the girl who took it awkwardly and took another sip. As gently as he could Rene drew the canteen away, not wanting a repeat performance. Rene spared another glance out at the wind torn sea. There were no lights either on the water or in the sky, proof that, at least for now, rescue craft and jumpers weren’t able to operate. Further down the beach he saw what looked to be a small vessel perhaps five meters long, it looked battered and abandoned, perhaps a small coral gathering skiff that had been torn from its moorings by the storm. A selection of debris trailed from it like blood from an exit wound, pieces of netting and less identifiable junk in a random scatter. No tracks disturbed the sand around it, if it had crew it seemed they had been lost before it had been driven ashore here. Not for the first time he wished that he had a tactical helmet with visual enhancements that would let him see into the infrared but then if he were getting wishes he probably would have aimed a little higher.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Solae in a quiet voice and turned away, carfully twisting the slung carbine to keep it out of the girls line of sight, before trotting down the beach to the wrecked vessel. As he surmised it was one of the thousands of light craft that coursed the shallow seas of Panopontus, gathering coral for export. According to the limited information available on the Bonaventure, the corals contained useful biochemical compounds that were valuable components in a variety of pharmaceutical drugs. Most of the processing, and most of the money, was concentrated off world where higher technology levels, and accompanying Imperial permits, were available. The hull of the vessel was made from a composite of finely spun mesh and compressed cellulose treated with an industrial plasticising agent. The resulting material was cheap, tough and easily available. Even so a jagged rent in the hull told the story of how the vessel had been torn open on a reef. Already the edges of the gash were beginning to swell as the now unsealed cellulose took up water, making it look even more like an open wound.

The interior of the boat was a jumble of ancient equipment and water logged papers. There was no engine and no signs of recent use. The hatches and porthole covers were rusted shut with far more corrosion than the recent storm justified. It had probably been a derelict for some time, serving as a floating storehouse of no particular value. There was nothing useful among the scattered wreckage save for some woven cables, a few shattered fish traps and an improbable amount of tangled fishing line. Rene wondered if Dramaris had used the wreck as a shelter from the wind, but dismissed the notion for lack of the girls tracks. Exhausted as she was, she must have simply staggered to the top of the dune and collapsed, only to be startled to wakefulness by the approach of the pair of glowing strangers. Rene grinned to himself, if he had been in the same situation he probably would have taken a swing at him too.

“Lets get back to the sh...shelter,” Rene said as he jogged back to where Solae sat with the girl, administering small sips of water to stop her from vomiting. The reconnaissance had revealed all that he needed and there was no point in prolonging Dramaris’ exposure to the elements. If the skiff was salvageable it would still be too rough to risk She needed hydration and medical care but just as clearly she needed to get out of the rain and wind. Together, the two nobles got the girl to her feet. Whatever reserves of adrenaline had kept the castaway going were clearly fading and Dramris saged almost lifeleslly as they half guided, half carried her back to the Bonaventure. By the time the carried her up the ramp she was completely unconscious.

"Let's put her in the Captain's Quarters," Solae suggested. There really wasn't anywhere else she felt comfortable placing the poor girl; she was already traumatized and she could only imagine how much more terrified she'd be if she woke up in the crew's bunks. The pair of travelers had done their due diligence cleaning but they hadn't anticipated needing the crew's sleeping space as there were only two of them and they enjoyed sharing a bed. As a result they had decided to use the smaller room for storage and failed to change any of the linens. From a distance there wasn't any smell but if one were to crawl up onto the sheets it almost certainly had an unpleasant odor. Though the child was unconscious she also suspected the mattresses were even more lumpy for the Bonaventure's former underlings than the captain and that rejuvenating rest would be harder-earned with hard springs and uneven batting.

Rene nodded and they proceeded into what was currently functioning as their bedroom. Solae would have offered assistance but the truth was that the soldier was more than capable of carrying Damaris by himself. Genetics had not graced the female linguist with even half the upper body strength her counterpart had before he was forced to join a physical profession. She had never asked him exactly what he was capable of bench pressing but she would be shocked if it was not in excess of her own weight. A few times he had lifted her with so little effort she was in awe of him. Sometime during her years at the embassy she had grown accustomed to men who ran just enough to say fit, used technology to sculpt and tone, and were only as athletic as was aesthetically required. She liked that her paramour could dead-lift a crate without straining and grunting as if he was about to collapse in the process.

Once Damaris had been laid down they covered her with the sheets, tucking her in, and left the canteen on the nightstand. A glass might be preferable but there were two reasons that the canteen was chosen instead: the nipple made it harder for her to gulp down too quickly for her own health (though she had proven it was still logistically possible) and they had already earned her trust that the canteen's water was not drugged or tainted. Solae didn't want to jeopardize any faith that had been placed in her. She knew that to the impressionable youth they were still strangers, ones not even from her world, and that they needed to be conscientious about moving at a pace that proved they had no ill intentions. Rather than closing the door behind them they left it slightly ajar, enough to let light from the attached hallway drift in, and giving her a clear exit once she awoke so she could seek them out with as little anxiety as possible.

Solae motioned for Rene to follow her as she went to the kitchen and began rummaging around for something appropriate for Damaris to eat. She felt responsible for the girl, even though she was not her own daughter or ward, and was reluctant to feed her anything but the best they had to offer. Adults could elect to make choices to eat less-than-optimal snacks or meals, they were responsible for themselves and had the capacity for making that choice, but it was different with children. If either of them wanted to live off crisps and deep-fried starches they had that right. Allowing someone years away from being considered wholly autonomous, someone who was still growing and developing, and who had different needs, would be negligent and/or slightly immoral.

"I can't believe anyone survived washing ashore," she said softly as she shook her head. Tucked away behind meals that were the pinnacle of gluttony were a few sealed cups of vegetables in containers which, once a tab was pulled, would steam cook within minutes. The marquise pulled out the two varieties available and set them on the counter with a sigh. "I know it's not your area of expertise, but maybe you can look her over a little after she wakes up? I don't think she has any major injuries but the least we can do is make certain and treat the scrapes she has before ferrying her home. Which I suppose is something else to discuss, isn't it?"

"What do you want to do?" she asked, leaning back against the economical metal cabinetry. The irony of the fact that their spaceship was largely absent of staining due to its lack of luxurious porous surfaces was not lost on her. Marble, granite, wood, and other more desirable materials would have soaked up blood, bodily fluids, grease, and other drippings that the prior inhabitants had left behind. Because construction had been limited to more easily obtained alloys mass-manufactured for cargo ships, military vessels, and ergonomic transports, there had been nothing prone to staining, and the galley in which they stood not was relatively spotless. "We still need fuel. If you want to take the inflatable and go tonight I can watch over Damaris by myself. Stealth isn't quite my forte but I can't imagine asking her to get on a boat anytime soon even it is to go back to her parents."

"Miss Solae," Mia purred. The aristocrat nearly jumped a foot in the air. Their artificial intelligence companion had been so quiet (so as not to disturb their new guest) that she had honestly forgotten about her presence. Hearing the synthetic voice had startled her and she laughed lightly in embarrassment before Mia continued. "The Bonaventure appears to have been modified to perform night landings without the detection of law enforcement. While I can not condone the spirit in which these modifications have been made, they may be of use to you should you not want to alarm the nearby colonies."

"Thank you, Mia. Do you think the inflatable can handle the waters, though?" She asked Rene as she furrowed her brow in serious contemplation. "Maybe we need another plan... it's risky for you to go out there by yourself," she worried aloud. There was no practical reason their plot would fail. Solae was simply nervous about letting Rene out of her sight for any length of time, let alone on a mission with any amount of risk, and with no way to contact him if things went awry.

Rene leaned forward placing both hands on the bench. The air at this latitude wasn’t cold but it was chilly compared to the tropical heat of New Concordia, the wind and rain had been enervating at a level that wasn't truly noticeable until the bulk of the Bonaventure offered some relief. The presence of the girl was a complicating factor he hadn’t planned on. It would still be at least a day before search and rescue aircraft were a real threat but he didn’t want to get caught half way through refueling either.

“I doubt the inflatable will handle the waves,” he admitted his eyes thoughtfully on the exhausted girl. The small raft was meant as a refuge in case of a ditch in an aquatic environment, and while it may or may not be sufficiently hardened to resist collisions with the reefs and shoals, without a serious engine the wind and currents would drive them back onto the island.

“I think… I think our best bet is to try to refloat that barge on the beach, the hull is torn up but we can patch it with vacuum sealant, at least long enough to get across the straits.” The wrecked vessel hadn’t had an engine of its own, probably hadn’t in many years, but Rene had a few ideas about how to retrofit one from equipment they had on the Bonaventure. A smile tugged at his lips, the skills he had gotten in training were getting quite the workout. Perhaps if they survived long enough a problem would arise that he could solve by the right application of a courtly bow or a recitation of family history. It did not seem he was quite so well prepared for the world as he had imagined back on Cappela.

“It will take both of us to crew it though, plus I’ll still need you to help get into the computers at the communications center.” It was going to be a tough job to cross the storm tossed straights as it was, but there were just too many things that could go wrong for one person to handle. Rene figured that if Solae was conning the boat then he could deal with anything else that came up.

“We should take the inflatable too, we can always abandon the barge if we have to, once we get out over the reefs,” Rene mused as he pulled out the first aid kit that Solae had put together from supplies salvaged from the plantation as well as the Bonaventures own medical gear. He drew a bulky medical scanner that the slavers had used to help sedate their victims and turned it on, fiddling with the display until he found the setting he wanted.

“Sir Rene, are you certain it is wise to risk exposing your paramour to such risk!?,” her synthesized tone made it sound like an exciting adventure but that was only because rebuke was difficult to pull off in a sultry manner.

“Well the ship is stuck in the mud till it dries out and I dont have alot of other options,” Rene mumbled, his words muffled by an IV kit he was holding between his teeth while he dug through the supplies. He found a bag of IV fluid and checked to make sure it was rated for human usage. Fortunately the biological divergence between human and Syshin physiology was not so great that the slaves had needed specialized supplies. He spat the iv kit out onto the bed next to the unconscious girl.

“Besides, I don’t think its likely that word of the bounty on Solae has beaten us here,” he explained. That much was true, a message from New Concordia would have had to come by ship, been downloaded to the planetary net and then been distributed. Rene hadn’t really paid attention to ship movements during the boring garrison duty on New Concordia, but even if the rebels commandeered every merchantman and courier on the planet, they would still have more possible jump destination than available shipping. Word would reach Panopontus sooner rather than later, but it was so unimportant that Rene doubted it would have made the list for top priority worlds. Even once it got here, he doubted that the planetary communications infrastructure was operating well in the wake of the hurricane. The comm center in San Roayo might have the alert, but who would be distributing it when everyone was busy dealing with the aftermath of the storm. He didn’t like putting Solae in danger, but whatever her odds were of escaping, they went way down if he drowned trying to cross the ocean and she was stuck here in a ship with next to no fuel.

“Just for the record this is way easier on 200 pound marines,” he complained. With sluggish half remembered steps he uncapped the IV needle and scanned the girls arm with a reddish wand of infrared light from the medical computer. The red on black pattern it returned was not precise but he thought he had some sense of where the girls veins were. Taking a deep breath he pressed the tip of the needle into the girls arm. Damaris twitched but didn't wake as the sharp plastic needle slid into her forearm. Frowning Rene pressed his fingers against her flesh, turned the needle slightly and jabbed it forward. A flash of red blood filled the cannula and he breathed a sigh of relief before pressing down on a small clip. Synthetic film extended to secure the IV in place and he screwed the bag of iv fluid into the access port. Clear fluid began to flow down into the girls arm, providing hydration many times more effectively than drinking could have done. He blew out a relieved breath.

“When she wakes up we need to find out as much as we can,” he said quietly, “ then we should try to get her home, even if she did try to knock my brains out.”

Solae pursed her lips into a thin line that clearly expressed she did not endorse his plan of action. That was not to say she did not appreciate that he was trying to make the best out of a poor situation- she knew they were both doing all they could to salvage their poor circumstances- but she still felt as if he conducted himself with the unrealized expectation they were soldiers. Had he been in the company of marines everyone would have been comfortable with the presented scenario. Rene had even considered the variables and come up with a contingency of using the inflatable as a method of transportation home. Unfortunately, the woman and girl in his presence were not fearless, not conditioned for adverse environments, and not as durable as a weathered marine.

"Let's let her rest," she replied before guiding him back outside of the room. The youth would wake to the IV in her arm and might try to rip it out in panic, but the diplomat was willing to take the risk for she sincerely believed that having the two strangers hovering over her would be even more anxiety-inducing. There was nothing more they could do except give Damaris peace and privacy. If she woke to calm quiet she would be more easily convinced that they meant her no harm and, regardless of whether they followed Rene's current plan or modified it, she would also be more easily persuaded to keep putting her faith in the 'princess' and her brawny companion.

"Rene," she sighed as she leaned against the metallic corridor. The cool air that swirled around the interior of the spaceship gave her a slight chill and she hugged her arms to herself. As nice as it was to have the island's breeze wafting in through the open hatch she had grown accustomed to the tropical temperatures of her home on New Concordia. This had not been her first choice for a planetary way-stop not only because of its lack of resources and civilization, but because it she knew it would be an ecological adjustment, and her personal world was already spinning out of control trying to adapt.

"You're asking a lot of a girl her age. She didn't take composure classes like we did or go through half of the exercises that were required to be an heir of an aristocratic line. Not only that, she's undoubtedly traumatized from being washed ashore by tides that I'm sure killed almost everyone else they claimed, and then after nearly drowning she found herself alone on a remote island with no food or water. How do you expect to convince her to go with two people she hardly knows in a patched-together dingy onto the same turbulent waves that just nearly killed her? I want to get her home, and I'm sure she wants to go home, but that is one hell of a leap of faith you're asking her to take."

It was the understatement of the year. Solae realized the Bonaventure was entrenched in mud but it had enough supplies to keep them comfortable for a while before there would be any risk to their survival. Now that the hurricane had passed their greatest threats were the coup and all the members of the Duke's rebellion. No matter how slowly news of the bounty traveled it would still reach Panopontus quite some time before they were on the brink of starvation. The linguist had been very thorough in plundering the slaver's estate in preparation for their journey of indeterminate length. Multiple crates she had yet to open were full of foodstuffs that were hardly gourmet but had an extended shelf life and would keep them nourished enough to reach their destination even if it took weeks.

"Let's take this one step at a time," she said, pinching the area at the top of her nose between her eyes and trying to think of the best approach. "I can wait for Damaris to wake up if you think you can repair the barge on your own, then we can evaluate it together and make certain it's sea-worthy before we commit to anything. I'm not going to pump her for information until she's fed and I am confident she won't shut down with questioning. I know we're pressed for time but trust my expertise when I say we need to handle this with some delicacy. We need to have her confide in us, without revealing much of ourselves, and that isn't easy in the best of circumstances."

"Please tell me you're not expecting to... paddle the barge to land?"

Rene followed Solae into the hallway swinging the hatch to within a handbreadth of closing. If the girl woke up he didn’t want her to feel like she was a prisoner behind a locked door. It was true that Damaris had been through alot but Solae had been through far worse and there was much worse waiting for her if they lingered here long enough to get caught. With each moment that passed the storm waned, the window they needed to exploit grew a little narrower.

“We can’t do anything till she wakes up,” Rene replied, neither agreeing or disagreeing with Solae’s statements.

“Well I mean we cant make any final decisions,” he corrected as Solae led him into the galley. Reaching across the table he turned on the hot water and filled two of the chipped ceramic cups. Reaching into the cupboard he withdraw two packets of synthetic coffee and tore them open pouring the dark crystals into the hot water. They foamed for a moment as the chemical reactions ran their course and then passed on of the mugs to Solae. The brew was bitter and tasted vauguley oily, it wouldn’t have been worthy of house servants back on Capella but it was considerably better than some Rene had drunk since joining the marines. Ration coffee was rumored double as thruster polishing grit. Though he knew it wasn’t true Rene could certainly see where the urban legend had begun.

“And no, I think I can rig a propulsion system from gear we have here, basically a big pump that will act like a water jet,” he explained. Equipment meant to operate in vacuum was typical many times more powerful than that designed for terrestrial use. Without the coefficients of friction that governed atmospheric operation there was less concern about waste heat. The Bonaventure had a half dozen such pumps that were surplus to what it needed to operate. It was simple to say but it would be something of a production to strip one out. Perhaps Mia could suggest the easiest one to access, preferable one that wasn’t built into the hull. Pumps built into the hull… an idea flared to life in Rene’s mind, something so simple and obvious he was a little embarrassed it hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Mia, can you pump water from the caldera into the air above the ship?” he asked. A light on one of the heating units lit up as the AI signaled it had heard, it wasnt nearly as effective as the complex system of lights at Armond’s manor had been but Mia seemed to be adapting to her new surroundings.

“To what purpose Ser Rene?” she asked, her tone suggesting that she simply couldn’t wait to discover whatever juicy secret might lay beind mundane water pumping.

“If we pump water over the ship, its going to drop algae all over it,” he replied, it was obvious from Solae’s expression that she didn’t yet understand so he elaborated.

“If we coat the outside of the ship with algae its going to look exactly like the caldera from the air, even if they have jumpers there is virtually no way they will be able to pick us out!” He set down his coffee, excited to have a solution to a problem for once.

“I’ll rig it up then get to work on the boat,” he declared, feeling far more excited than a simple breakthrough should have accounted for. They could do this. He knew they could.

"Wait, before you get started," Solae said as she set down her cup of coffee. The aristocracy would consider it scandalous how quickly she had acclimated to the food and rations of the lower classes. Most, if not all, would have excused it as a necessary adaptation for her continued survival, but would have still been appalled at her acceptance. The marquise did not criticize, did not wrinkle her nose, did not go through the motions to express her disappointment in the quality of the provisions. Not only did Solae think that it was be pointless grandstanding she didn't think that the meals of the last few days had been that bad. The more time they spent on the run the more understanding she had for her societal lessors and the more convinced she was that there was much the nobility could learn and appreciate from the common, hard-working folk of the worlds.

She left the kitchen for a moment and went to the hold where she retrieved two items from a compartment in which they had stored smaller electronics and supplies. When she returned to the galley she had two devices in her hand that were approximately the size of a pack of playing cards but slightly more slender. There had initially been five of these devices but two were damaged and corroded and they had no need of a third so she had brought the two in the best condition. Both were smooth and the color of aged copper. Six small buttons encircled a large black oval at the center that had pinpoint holes and functioned as a speaker.

Solae pressed one into Rene's hand and kept its twin in her own. "I found these cleaning. Best I can tell it's one of the ways the former crew kept in contact when they landed and were temporarily separated. Fortunately for us because they were criminals the technology is old enough that neither the empire nor the rebels will be looking for it. Even if they were it's encrypted. Drawback is that it's audio only and the maximum range around 150 kilometers." It made her realize just how similar they were right now to actual criminals. Hiding from authority figures, staying in a home that wasn't theirs, grand larceny, subterfuge, and that wasn't even delving into the violence they had used even if in self-defense.

"I know you're only going to the beach outside the caldera but... I'll feel better if we have a way to contact each other," she explained, "and this is durable enough that even if another storm swells we'll have a way to reach each other for a while at least. I'll let you know when Damaris wakes up and you can send me updates on how you're doing or if you see any ships out there doing rescues that we need to hide from," she suggested. "Probably unnecessary but it doesn't hurt to be cautious, right?"

"I do not detect any strong winds that would indicate another such occurrence," Mia purred in interruption.

"Thank you, Mia, but I want to be prepared just in case. We just got engaged, didn't we?" Solae asked with a light tone. "I'd be quite a terrible fiancee to let Sir Rene out of my sight so easily. It's practically my duty to keep tabs on him now," she joked. That and also she was slightly anxious about any minor separation still. They had been through so much together, side by side, that she had started to conjoin survival with his presence.

"Is there anything I can do to help from the inside while you work on the exterior of the ship? I could... cook, not that I really know how, but you'll probably need a break between your two projects. Or Mia and I could work on detangling the components you need from the internal interface," she proposed.

The sealant fizzed and spawled as it expanded to fill the rent in the hull. The wind and rain whisked away the worst of the chemical stink but there as enough that Rene could still feel it burning at the back of his throat. The polymers in the paste straightened and expanded into something fairly close to steel in its tensile strength, it was designed to patch leaks in starship hulls long enough for them to touch down for more permanent refit. It had come as a mild surprise that it wasn’t in as sad a shape as the rest of the Bonaventure seemed to be but he supposed that given the complete lack of anything else, one had to have sealant or to have voided ones atmosphere.

“Alright, I think I’m ready,” Rene said into the communicator Solae had given him. Getting the barge into something vaguely like seaworthy condition had taken nearly two hours. He was soaked to the bone but had stripped down to his trousers and boots after it became clear that the we weather gear was both inadequate to keeping him dry and too hot to work in. Rene tossed the sealant can into the boat with a clang. He supposed he could have just as easily tossed it to the sand but he was instinctively reluctant to litter for no better reason than his own laziness. The universe should have an order, Rene had always been taught, and it was a lesson that life in the Marines had done little to contradict.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t bring out the engine?” Solae’s voice spoke in his ear. Rene smiled and shook his head even though she couldn’t see the expression.

“We need to keep the weight down,” he told her as he trudged down the wet sand and collected a spool of cabling. The cable was a boron mono crystal weave, lightweight but insanely strong, he fixed it to the davot at the stern of the ship and then turned to face the sea. It was still churning but the fury of a few hours ago seemed to be subsiding.

“I’m going to be off the radio for a minute,” Rene told his lover, “I need to get a little wet for this next part.” He carefully took the radio out of his ear and slipped it into a waterproof plastic bag which he secured beneath a metal waste bucket he had salvaged from the barge. This next bit would be dangerous but he hadn’t explained that to Solae. There was no point in her worrying and the tide was rising quickly. It was already filling the long trench in the sand Rene had dug with an entrenching tool, creating a makeshift slipway. High tide would be in twenty more minutes and he didn’t want to waste this chance. Kicking off his boots he strode into the water, shouldering the coil of cable. When it reached his breast he dove into the water kicking powerfully against the incoming tide, his athletic body driving him through the water with long powerful strokes.

It only took about two minutes to reach the edge of the shallows where the water surged and churned around large rocks or reefs hidden beneath the waves. White water surged around as the wind and surf crashed on the unseen obstacle. Rene dived beneath the water as a large wave swept over him. The salt content on Panopontus was lower than that of Capella and although the water was milky with kicked up silt it didn’t sting his eyes the way a more saline ocean would have. Kicking down he drove himself underwater down towards the large rock outcropping. A sudden wave drove him against the rock and he only just managed to pivot and take the impact with bent knees rather than with his neck. As quickly as he could he pulled himself around the rock, looping the cable around. The next wave drove him hard against the rock and he felt the impact of the jagged semi porous limestone like a hammer, palish red fluid diffused from where the impact had torn his shoulder in a superficial pressure cup. His lungs burned and his muscles ached but he finally made it all the way around the submerged rock face. The next wave drove him away from it, back towards the beach and he caught the line and snapped the attachment end to the portion he had already laid out, then kicked hard to get above the water. A wave smashed him in the face as he broke the surface and he sucked down a lungful of water. Coughing an spluttering he turned and gasped for air, pulling himself back to shore along the now secure line.

The whole operation had taken about ten minutes but his body burned with exertion as he pulled himself onto the beach and flopped over onto his back, letting the rain patter down over his face. His right shoulder was bruised and bloodied but that was a small price to pay. Pressing himself to his feet he half walked half staggered down the beach to where the barge waited, tethered to the submerged rock. Retriving his radio he pressed it back into his ear.

“...alright?” came Solae’s concerned voice at once.

“Rog… I mean yes I’m alright,” he told her rubbing at his shoulder before climbing over the bulwark and into the dilapidated barge. At the bow was a large hydraulic winch into which he fed the line.

“Alright wish us luck,” he said and tumbled the activation stud. It sputtered for a moment as the flywheel spun up and then began a slow clunking turn, drawing in the line like an angler bringing in a particularly large fish. As the slack ran out the cable lifted from the sea until it reached the rock where it suddenly snugged. The winch growled and protested, straining against the line, but it had been built to drag up pieces of coral that weighed several tons. With a grind of sand beneath the hull the barge slipped into the spillway and slid six feet, then ten, then was completely afloat. Rene let the barge drift out to a point where it would still be afloat at low tied and then snugged up the cable he had attached to a large tree on shore. The barge came to a stop between its two anchor points. Rene let out a sigh of relief. It was one thing to say a thing was possible, another thing to accomplish it. They still needed to load the simple engine Solae and Mia were putting together, but one thing at a time.

“Alright we are afloat,” he declared in a tired but triumphant voice.

“I’m on my way back now.”

"I already don't like this plan," Solae said disapprovingly as Rene appeared on the ramp of the Bonaventure. Her gaze slid over to the injured shoulder that had been washed clean by the rain but was still clearly wounded from his adventure in getting their barge afloat. Pressing her lips into a flat line she took a sip from her second cup of coffee before continuing. "This was not supposed to be the dangerous part and yet here you are already injured," she objected flatly once she had swallowed down the bitter caffeinated beverage.

Both law and professional protocol required that any technology that incorporated artificial intelligence not include program personalities that were capable of actual emotional response. Sophisticated software might mimic their affect in certain situations, such as mirroring empathy when specific parameters were met and the correct dictation in their code was triggered, but they were not independently capable of evolving into true feeling. Mia and her kind were, however, capable of what could be interpreted as loyalty. Home systems would have an administrative user that was prioritized above all other humans that interacted with them. As Rene might correctly surmise, Solae had inadvertently become the administrative user and thus the paramour soldier was secondary in the chain. The inappropriately seductive synthetic being would not jump to his defense so long as it was the diplomat chastising him.

"I needed a break," she said with a gesture towards the repurposed engine. From the tools splayed around it on the floor it was clear that not all the necessary adjustments had been completed. Solae had made another cup of coffee because she had gotten more frustrated than she ought to over the task. Unlike her beau she was not as adept at compartmentalizing and adjusting to such large deviations from her expertise. She had spent her entire life being railroaded into careers rubber-stamped by the nobility as appropriate for her station. While she had had not been bothered by mingling with her societal lessers in the least, and embraced it whole-heartedly, it would take more time for more monumental transitions. Rene had the unanticipated benefit of being thrust into the military and spending years realigning himself, embracing new roles, and developing new skills. By contrast the linguist was still in her first week.

"We encountered some errors while increasing the throttle to compensate for a water transport vehicle rather than a spacecraft," Mia purred in such dulcet tones he could see Solae almost bristle. Rationally she knew the computer was not competition but sometimes it was hard not be slightly irked at the openly seductive voice speaking to her fiance. "I am running simulations to try to determine if our margins were too generous. I estimate the calculations will be complete before our guest awakens."

"I'm self-medicating with coffee in my best attempt to pretend I'm not bothered," Solae explained. Glad as she was that Rene was successful in his endeavor she felt as if her nerves were frayed. Once the engine worked properly they still would need to navigate over foreign waters, with a child to whom they were scary strangers, trust that their charge wouldn't turn them into authorities, obtain fuel, and sneak into one of the communications buildings to dig for information. On New Concordia all of their missions were simpler and with a single goal; now they were pursuing many, all at once, and flying relatively blind given how little familiarity they had with the planet on which they had landed. Some anxiety was only natural. Were the aristocrat to be completely placid that would have been cause for concern in and of itself.

"You should get yourself patched up or I can do it for you if you need me to. While we're waiting- do we need to find containers for the fuel? We haven't really discussed at length how we're going to do it. I have currency but if we're going to headed there tonight, before sunrise, won't we look suspicious making a purchase?" Not that Solae really wanted to add another larceny to her criminal history. Hopefully they could obtain some secretly and leave behind physical payment, but she realized this might be an impossibility. Solae was too weak to haul fuel, and too recognizable to try to charm her way into making a slightly strange transaction, so Rene would have to rely on his social skills if stealth wouldn't suffice.

Rene endured the questions without immediate response. He didn’t blame Solae for not liking the current plan. There were alot of things that could go wrong, starting with the very real risk of drowning while they tried to cross the straight. He sat down on an upturned packing crate and tore open one of the simple single use medical packs that they had liberated from the plantation back on New Concrdia. He wiped off his shoulder with some gauze only to watch the blood well up from the cut almost immediately. It didn’t hurt exactly it was just an ache that was a little more intense than the general ache his body had developed. Swimming in storm tossed seas was a pretty high energy activity and even in top fighting condition he couldn’t expect to come away scott free. There was a small container of spray sealant, about the size of a pen, which he picked up and primed. Wiping the blood away once more he triggered the sealant which hissed out in a greyish mist, spraying his shoulder with a combination of antiseptic and a bio-synthetic glue which dried almost instantly to the consistency of latex. It wasn’t quite clear but it was translucent enough that you could see through it without difficulty.

“Thank you,” he said smiling at Solae as set a cup of coffee down by his uninjured side.

“I think it should probably be stitched,” he said after a moments consideration and fished the surgical stapler from their hoard of medical supplies. He turned the stapler butt first and handed it to Solae who looked deeply uncertain.

“Just hold it over the wound and press that toggle on the side,” he encouraged. The stapler cast a dozen horizontal laser beams in a grid pattern over the wound. A moment later the beams narrowed into short discrete targets as the program recognized the wound and calculated the necessary size and shape of the sutchers needed.

“Press it down where the…” But Solae had already grapsed the idea and pressed the stapler down so that the dispenser lined up with the first target light, it gave a warning click and then a snick snack sound as it delivered the first staple. Rene felt the tug in his flesh but the topical analgesic in the spray seal stopped him from feeling any real pain.

“See? We will have you certified as a combat medic in no time.” It took Solae only another minute or two to place the seven stitches the computer deemed necessary. When she was done Rene applied another blast of spray sealant to cover the sutures up. When she was done he took her hands and kissed them, turning them over and kissing her palms as well in the fashion of noble lovers.

“Solae, I wish I had more answers for you,” he said at last, returning to her original questions. He wanted very badly to tell her that everything would be alright and that he had a plan for every eventuality. He wanted her to know that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her and that she was perfectly safe. Lying wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed and he wasn’t about to start lying to Solae just to make her feel a little better. Besides, he thought ruefully, as a diplomat she could probably have seen right through him.

“The truth is I don’t know. There is no way for us to know what conditions are like in San Roayo. We won’t know until we get there and see for ourselves.” He had a few vague notions about putting fuel on a ship and bringing it close enough that they could run lines to the Bonaventure, that shouldn’t be a problem on a world built on maritime agriculture. Stealing the fuel didn’t bother him in the abstract, he was afterall, the ranking member of the Imperial Military on this world and it was technically within his jurisdiction to requisition supplies a time of war, but as Solae pointed out using a little currency might smooth things over and avoid worse problems. It might equally make sense to take the Bonaventure to the fueling depot directly, even though that meant waiting till the Caldrea dried out enough for them to break the landing gear free.

“Fuel and inform... information,” he said musingly stumbling over the words, his mind felt a little hazy from hours of work in the enevating rain. How long had it been since he had slept? There wasn’t time now so he settled for gulping down the coffee, hoping that the caffeine would clear his mind. The tide would be going out for the next several hours. The retreating water would beach the barge again and he needed to use that window to get their makeshift engine aboard, then wait for the incoming tide to refloat her. High tide would be the best time to risk the reefs, giving them the maximum amount of clearance. He tried to keep the timeline straight in his mind. Once he got the engine aboard he could snatch an hour or two of rest.

“We have got to get access to that uplink and find out what is going on.” His father had always said that in any crisis the first thing to do was think, and the second was to act. The Marines had a similar theory assess, orient, act. Repeat until either the crisis was over or you were dead.

“Are you going to take me to my papa?” a small voice asked from the hatchway. Rene looked up in shock to find Dramaris, wrapped in the sheets of her bed peeking from around the corner. The IV was still in her arm though it had disconnected when she had got up. Rene realised belated that he had forgot to activate the alarms that would have warned him of just such an action.

"We are going to do our best," Solae promised smoothly with a tone that was softer and free of the frustration she had expressed while conversing with Rene. Detangling herself from her fiance she strode over to their young guest with a gentle smile on her features. Despite how congenial and kind the marquise had been, Damaris was still nervous and suspicious, and had backed away a couple steps anxiously. The young girl continued to watch her pensively as the diplomat knelt down in the space where she had stood a few moments earlier.

"Before we try to find your papa I want to make sure you're feeling better. I don't think your papa will like us very much if you are sick and hungry when we take you home, will he?" Solae asked somewhat rhetorically. In truth she wasn't as worried about the parental figure as she was about making certain that Damaris had the strength necessary to endure the boat trip on the barge to San Roayo. Right now the conditions were relatively favorable to travel but she dared not make the assumption that the weather would continue to be mild. She needed to prepare for the very real possibility that they could meet with a wide variety of difficulties while transporting their charge across the sea. The more they were able to rejuvenate the girl the better. "Do you feel better after getting some rest?"

Damaris glanced over at Rene before looking back to Solae. She was both old enough and smart enough to realize that no one would have tucked her into bed if they didn't sincerely care about her well-being. They had not earned her complete trust but she also wasn't making the worst assumption about the needle and tube dangling out of her arm. "Yes, thank you," she said after some hesitation. The youth was still rather convinced the flaxen-haired figure in front of her was a princess in disguise so she wanted to mind her manners. It was the soldier that was the more intimidating person that made her wary. Watching the couple together, however, she was starting to believe that the man was actually a knight guard of some sort for the delicate royal lady.

"Wonderful! Are you hungry?" Solae asked as she reached out with one hand. Damaris was slightly reluctant but her growling stomach was testament that the IV hadn't been a complete replacement for food. Using one hand to keep the sheets wrapped around her she used the other to accept Solae's proffered hand. The noblewoman stood and and started to lead her towards the galley where Rene remained waiting. Whether it was because he was dozing while sitting, because he was afraid to move and startle Damaris, or because he was also half-starved she couldn't be certain.

"What kind of shelter is this?" Damaris asked inquisitively as she glanced around. Hours ago when they had brought the girl onto the ship she had been too drowsy on their approach to notice it was a galactic vessel. By the time they had actually reached The Bonaventure Rene had to carry her as she succumbed to the siren song of slumber. It was not surprising that now she was seeing the interior that she was realizing this was no simple beach house. The way that Solae had referred to it had made it seem smaller and more modest than it was. The freighter was not as large as any space yacht but it was significantly larger than the smallest cruisers used for transportation of a mid-income family.

"It's a spaceship," Solae replied honestly. "We're trying to get back to our own home. Well, I suppose we're trying to go somewhere to make a new home. You see, that man over there is a little scary because he's so tall, strong, and handsome, but I love him very much, so we're looking for a place where we can get married and have a big house," she elaborated with a wink to Damaris. Her new smaller friend's eyes got wide and after a couple seconds she giggled as she looked over to Rene. Like most girls her age she found the concept of romantic love both silly and enchanting. To hear the absurd way that Solae described it just made it all that more humorous.

"There is one more introduction I need to make. We have an Artificial Intelligence system- a computer that talks to us- named Mia. If you hear her talk she is just here to assist us. Mia, would you mind saying hello to Miss Damaris?" she requested.

There was a faint hum before a nearby speaker before they heard Mia's dulcet tones. "Hello, Miss Damaris. It is a pleasure to meet you," the sentient machine greeted but without a seductive undertone. Solae and Rene had both prepared themselves for the purr and breathless anticipation that was firmly integrated into Mia's programmed persona. Evidently even Lord Armon realized that he couldn't have a sultry vixen whispering to his visitors with underage children in attendance. Mia was wholly inappropriate, normal even, and Solae was stunned at what a profound difference was. The linguist had gotten so used to the comically sexy voice that she didn't know how to adapt to this newfound formality.

"You should get changed," Solae suggested to Rene as they joined him. While she wouldn't have objected if he wandered around nude on the regular she felt a touch uncomfortable having him soaked to the bone and shirtless in the presence of an adolescent girl. "Can you look for something we can use for a jacket for Damaris while you're getting dressed? At some point we'll need our sheets back," she said with a bemused grin. Because they had put Damaris on their bed, as none others were cleaned in preparation for guests, it was their linens that were being used as a makeshift cover. Solae was generous but not enough to let go of her one few domestic luxuries.

Rene felt a slight sting of guilt as Solae explained their situation to the child. To Dramaris it must have seemed a fairy tale simple and right. While Rene loved Solae he knew that being with him would bring social disgrace upon her. The nobility wouldn’t take kindly to her choosing to be with someone like him even if he survived the remainder of his term with the Marines and his sins were officially forgiven. Did he have the right to condemn her to the life of a pariah? This was not the time or place to discuss it and Solae had made it blindingly clear that he shouldn’t presume to make her decisions for her. Nodding he rose, turning to keep his injured side away from the child so as not to further distress her.

“I’m sure we can find something,” he said smiling encouragingly at the girl.

It turned out to be easier said than done. While they had made some progress organising the Bonaventure since they had taken her, there was plenty of stuff they simply hadn’t had time to go through. Most of it was trash that Rene would jettison the next time they had a chance but he did manage to find a locker in which some surplus clothing had been stuffed. Most of it appeared to have been taken from Syshin females that had been captured or sold to the previous owners and was too large for a child. Eventually Rene found a cleanish green jacket that would make an adequate fit for Damaris which he bundled up before returning to his quarters and changing into his own dry clothing. His uniform was as clean as it was likely to get and he pulled on his combat pants and boots along with the tan undershirt he had been wearing when the Rat Trap had been attacked. His field jacket was too obviously military so he pulled on a long sleeves spacers jacket over the top of it to give himself more of a civilian look.

Returning to the galley he found Solae breaking up a ration bar for Damaris. The girl was chewing enthusiastically on one of the previous pieces, clearly starving. Rene felt his own stomach grumble, though beef flavored protein rations didn’t exactly excite a lot of enthusiasm it had been hours since he had eaten anything.

“Sir Rene, the calculations for the pump unit are completed and it is now working within parameters,” a voice that it took Rene a moment to recognise as Mia’s reported. It was amazing how comfortable he had gotten with her breathy suggestive commentary. Solae and Damaris both looked up at him, the girl still seemed a little nervous but the food seemed to have eased some of her concerns. Rene felt a flush of embarrassment at having nearly struck the girl when she had jumped out at them. He extended his hand offering her the jacket. Damaris glanced at Solae who nodded encouragingly at her. The girl reached out and took the jacket with a thank you that was muffled by a mouthful of protein ration. She chewed several times and swallowed visibly.

“Are you a knight? Is that why she calls you sir?” the girl asked. Rene paused, a little taken aback by the question.

“I… I suppose I am,” he said after a moment. Whatever his technical legal status he conducted himself as a member of the nobility and tried to live up to the oath he had sworn when he joined the Marines. He supposed that made him close enough to a knight for the purpose of reassuring a child. Further conversation was interrupted by a ping from his chronometer. Thirty minutes to low tide. He felt weary and rung out, hungry and sore from his exertions already but the sooner they moved the better it would be.

“That’s my que,” he said ruefully and gave the girl a smile and Solae’s shoulder a squeeze.

The pump unit was heavy and Rene was sweating profusely by the time he had dragged it out of the caldera and down to the beach. At Mia’s suggestion he had improvised some skids out a sheet of structural plastic which made shifting the thing a good deal easier than it might have been. Dragging a hundred kilos of machinery across wet sand still wasn’t a pleasant task. Fortunately the rain had slacked, the cyclonic system was moving away to the north and dragging the clouds with it. Though the winds were still strong enough to whip the waves to a white forth, it was the calmest Rene had seen it since they landed on Panopontus.

The barge lay on the sand where the tide had stranded it, still ancored both to the shore and the rock by cables. Fortunately the barge had a boom for loading cargo and enough pulleys that Rene was able to rig some of the spare cabling into a sling to lift the pump into place. Once it was settled on the deck he opened the small chest of tools he had bought for the job and began to screw the unit into the deck, connecting the output hose to one of the bilge lines. The work was surprisingly satisfying, as a noble Rene hadn’t been expected to do much physical labor and as a Marine he had been expected merely to follow directions. Working on something that required him both to use his hands and his mind was stimulating.

By the time everything was connected the tide was already returning, the sea lappng closer and closer to the beached barge. Rene tossed the input line out into the water and then turned the pump unit on. The hydrogen fuel cell hummed to life, clicking several times as the catalytic reaction began. The power light blinked green and Rene switched the pump on, eliciting a deep thrum from the equipment. Taking a deep breath he bought the pump live by throwing the final activator switch. There was a brief cough as the pump primed the line and then a great woooooosh as it expelled the water and sand at high pressure, gouging a deep trough in the sand behind them. Rene turned the pump back to idle for a moment an the switched off. In theory the force of the pump should be enough to power the barge.

“Solae, we are good to go here, the tide will be high enough in about two hours,” he told her over the radio, swinging his legs out over the edge of the barge and dropping into the ankle deep water with a splash. So far, so good.

"Excellent, then you can report back to take a two hour nap," Solae replied smoothly. Damaris immediately burst into a fit of giggles in response to the maternal remark so casually issued to a full-grown man undeniably larger (and perhaps older) than his female counterpart. Despite the amusement it caused the young girl, and the sweet delivery by the diplomat, her tone was insistent. She had seen the exhaustion in Rene's movements and countenance and now had a fresh worry on her mind. They would not fare well on the open waters, much less with their mission on the land, if their navigator and protector looked like death warmed over. He would be responsible for finding and perhaps hauling fuel back to the caldera. None of their goals would be more easily achieved with him sleep=deprived.

"Will he really come back and take a nap?" Damaris inquired. Now that she had filled her belly with protein bars and an instant vegetable soup she had become emboldened. Physical recovery had strengthened her courage to ask questions, to show glimpses of her personality, to not be so timid and paranoid about her host and hostess regardless of their origin.

"Maybe, maybe not," Solae shrugged, "He's my partner before he's my knight in shining armor, so even when I tell him what to do I need to respect his right to refuse," she said, trying to utilize this bit of time as a teaching moment. Damaris had not yet puberty yet but she would in a few years. Their encounter with another might be fleeting but she wanted to impart on the girl a model of a relationship with healthy boundaries. The aristocrat wasn't honestly certain what courtship and marriage was like in the troubled teenage years of the general populace, but it was a horrific mess for nobility. Surging hormones, parents who treated each other like business partners, and the backstabbing that happened all too often among the elite did not make those awkward years of transitioning from a child to an adult any easier.

"Mia, can you please pull up a map of San Roayo?" the slender blonde requested.

"Yes, but there is not a proper display in the kitchen. Would you prefer for me to use the screen in the hold or the cockpit?" the artificial intelligence replied. Her tone was still even, placid, and polite, as if the inappropriately sultry vixen had never existed. Solae was now certain she found it unnerving to hear Mia speak without the purr. The comical and exasperatingly amorous manner in which she spoke when a minor wasn't present had become comforting in its own way. Now that it had disappeared she was nearly unrecognizable to her biggest supporter.

"Let's use the hold. Would you mind coming with me, Damaris? If we're going to take you home with the high tide I will need you to show me where you live so we don't arrive on the other side of the island. The storm will have caused a lot of damage so we'll want to travel as far as we can by water. Roads will be washed out for at least another day or two while they clear debris off of them," she explained as she led the way to the hold. By the time they had changed rooms Mia had already projected a very simple topographical map of San Roayo onto a large screen attached to an abandoned storage rack. Solae would never tell her innocent charge that this same screen undoubtedly was used to monitor the vitals of slaves chemically induced to a comatose state. She and Rene may have committed grand larceny by taking The Bonaventure, and continued arguably criminal acts to elude capture and defend themselves, but they were still putting the space vessel to more moral use than it had likely seen before.

The girl looked at the map for several long moments. It wasn't that she didn't know where she lived but rather she wasn't familiar with looking at the geography from above. Solae was beginning to contemplate how she might be able to assist, either by conducting a long range scan and building a more basic 3-D image, or by trying to hijack a satellite in orbit around the planet. Damaris cocked her head to the side and pointed to a small ridge on the outskirts of the city where homes were clustered tightly together near the shore. "There, I live there I think," she said.

"Would you like me to create a chart, Lady Solae? You may want to upload it to a device and take it with you on your journey," Mia suggested. She sounded like an eerily pleasant automated system or perhaps a recording of a receptionist that was given a script of appropriate words and phrases. The linguist bit the inside of her cheek lightly to keep herself from commenting. Shifting her focus back towards their upcoming mission she nodded.

"Yes, thank you Mia. It would be in our best interest to take something that we can upload data to since we won't be able to easily contact you. Can you do an inventory search and let me know what would require the least modifications, have the largest storage, be moderately resilient to moisture, and have a sufficiently long battery?"

"Of course, Lady Solae," Mia replied instantly before falling silent to carry out her task as well as afford her human counterparts a chance to converse. Rene and Solae had gotten used to having the company of a sentient machine but Damaris had not; she found the concept novel, fascinating even, but it was hard to trust a disembodied voice guided by foreign algorithms and with no facial expressions to interpret.

"Is there something else you need from my home?" the girl asked with a slight quiver in her voice.

"No, we're just taking you to your home, I promise. Since we'll be in town, though, I thought I'd try to find some information on how Sir Rene's family is doing. He had to work very far away from them and they haven't keep in contact. We want to see if they are safe, if they moved, if they are doing well before we see them. It's very hard to be apart from your family, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically with a soft pat on the head. Her heart ached all that much more for her recently deceased parents. Perhaps a week had passed since they were brutally murdered and instead of mourning them like a dutiful daughter she was trying to forget them while she kept her mind occupied and hands busy. Reuniting another group of relatives was all she could think could possibly be penance for such a transgression.

The walk was becoming familiar Rene thought as he trudged back through the knee deep water of the Caldera. Since the rain had stopped the level had dropped by a few inches. Volcanic the plug of volcanic rock was a fairly water tight substrate but there must be cracks and faults in the caldera that allowed for some drainage, else it would have been a lake rather than a puddle. Even if the rain held off it would be days before the caldrea was free of surface water much less dry. If they had sufficient fuel they could run the thrusters to bake the mud around the landing skids to clay, then shatter it with hammers or explosives. Rene wondered whether suitable charges might be found in San Roayo. Certainly they must use some kind of low yield explosive to break up the coral they harvested.

“Welcome back Sir Rene,” Mia announced in her perfectly normal voice. Rene repressed a shiver at the change, Mia to be speaking so … normally upset him at a subconscious level it seemed. He pressed the stud that sealed the door, killing the ambient whistle of the wind and replacing it with the low hums and buzzes of idling subsystems. Rene turned and headed down the companionway towards the junction that lead to the hold and the living quarters. As he approached the door to the hold slid shut with a smooth his. The soldier arched any eyebrow at this unexpected turn of events.

“Mistress Solae requests that you change and rest,” Mia said her tone a trifle censorious. Rene, who had been in the process of reaching for the manual unlock, paused, trying to force his tired mind to process this new turn of events. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Mia considered Solae to be the mistress of the house and Rene merely as her paramour. That was entirely proper of course but he needed to get into the hold to go over the gear.

“Mistress Solae is with mistress Damaris, who is unlikely to be reassured by the preparation of firearms and other such military accoutrement,” the AI continued still, sounding disapproving. AIs were not technically sentient of course but it was easy enough for humans, programmed as they were to ascribe intent to view them that way and Mia did seem to be extrapolating on Solae’s instructions. Sighing with resignation Rene turned into the sleeping quarters and stepped briefly under the shower, sluicing away the salt and sand of his labours. By the time he stepped out the temperature of the room had risen significantly in an obvious attempt to make him drowsy. Shaking his head in resignation Rene fell onto the bed, still damp from where the water logged Damaris had lain, and fell instantly into unconsciousness.

The Imperial Marines inflicted sleep deprivation on their recruits during training as a matter of course. Rene had historically handled it well, but people who thought they could function without sleep were kidding themselves. Eventually you went a little loopy of course, started to see things that weren’t there, make mistakes. Even wide-awakes the Imperial Militaries standard issue stimulants, could only keep a man going for so long. The payoff was that when you did sleep, it was invariably black and dreamless. Rene, frequently plagued by unpleasant dreams, found this a comfort. When the alarm sounded it seemed to come from very far away. Rene opened his eyes. He seemed for a moment to be peering through panes of glass that reflected the sound of the monotone into shimmering reflections. He had a sensation of movement as though rushing forward at great speed and then he was sitting up with a gasp. The monotone alarm persisted for a second or two until Mia was sure he wouldn’t fall back to sleep. Rene pulled on his combat pants, boots and a tan undershirt he typically wore for exercise. He reached for his pistol and then remembered Mia’s words about disturbing Damaris. For a moment his hand wavered in indecision before he grasped the holster pistol and stuffed it into one of the large thigh pockets. He ran his thumb over the seal and closed it with a soft snap.

“Mia, where are Solae and Damaris?” he asked, presupposing that they would be in the same location.

“They have returned to the galley Sir Rene,” Mia responded pleasantly. Returned from where Rene wondered, but it was unlikely to be important. The chronometer indicated they still had twenty minutes until the ideal time for departure, but that was time enough to get the supplies and the three of them to the barge. Rene grinned as he opened the door to the galley. THen all they had to do was cross twenty kilometers of storm tossed waters, infiltrated a hurricane wracked settlement, find or steal fuel and break into a government compound and hijack their communication equipment. Well, one thing at a time.

It might have been wiser for Solae to take a nap herself but she elected not to do so; Rene had made significant contributions towards getting them to San Roayo and she felt obligated to match his efforts. She obviously lacked the raw strength he possessed and thus had been of little help in making the barge sea worthy. What she was able to offer was an apparent natural knack for technology that had not been explored during her upbringing as a future marquise and leader of the Stellar Empire. The diplomat was by no means an expert even with the tutelage of Mia. Time and practice were absolutely necessary for her to reach the skill level that mere apprentices had in the field. The artificial intelligence she was reliant upon for her learning was also not designed for the purpose of imparting a specialized education on its users. Even with the advent of synthetic beings, human (or humanoid) individuals were used for instructors, as it had proven an impossible task to make any program mimic the discipline and intuition that were used by the best to motivate and understand their pupils.

Both the woman and child were seated at the small table in the galley that seemed to get very little use. Damaris had a tall glass of water that was half-gone, a simple beverage intended to make certain she stayed hydrated, while Solae had an almost empty cup of coffee. She had spiked her brew with a few splashes of cheap liquor that she had discovered buried deep in the pantry where one smuggler must have been hiding it from their criminal colleagues. The linguist wouldn't jeopardize herself or anyone else by getting inebriated, so the dosage had been low enough it would not even produce a buzz, but it gave a little more bite that helped keep her awake, alert, and focused in conjunction with the caffeine.

"Did you have a good nap?" Solae asked as Rene entered.

Hanging off the back of her chair was a small waterproof tote that in its past life had been used for the transportation of small sums of currency and illicit drugs during inclement weather. Tucked inside was a clunky, outdated tablet roughly the size of a brick and half as wide. What it lacked in pleasing aesthetics it made up for in the multiple protective coatings and barriers that meant anything short of an apocalyptic typhoon would not destroy it. Twenty or thirty years ago it would have been standard issue for colonizers and scientists evaluating the results of terraforming on an unstable world. Solae didn't know what the tablet had been used for before, although she ventured a guess it was something unsavory, and had it reset to factory conditions. The only data that had been uploaded after it was wiped clean were maps of San Roayo. All of the rest of the storage was free purposefully for the noblewoman to fill to capacity with what she could download from the communication center's archives.

In addition to the sturdy tablet she had packed a compact emergency medical kit, a small set of utility tools in case she had to brute force her way into a control system, and the funds that had been left behind by the prior crew of the Bonaventure. Packing any more felt as if it might be too burdensome. Solae recognized a need to travel as lightly as possible while being prepared; they did not want to appear more suspicious than they already were and they ought to weigh down their sea vessel as little as possible if they hoped to navigate it successfully.

Damaris let out a giggle at the reference to the nap as Rene stepped in. Knowing he had taken a nap had made him significantly less frightening to the adolescent as she saw it as something small children did rather than adults. Her parents were not of sufficient social standing to take breaks in the middle of the day, like many working aristocrats who took full advantage of their status, and so she legitimately did not know anyone above the age of a toddler had such liberties or inclinations. Considering it as was advantageous for Damaris to be more friendly and trusting towards the soldier, Solae was not inclined to point out the gap in her perception.

"Did you want to have something to eat before we go? We have quite the variety of instant, high in carbohydrates, low in nutritional value meals to choose from. I'll even let you take a swig from my bottle," she teased with a wink. Damaris only devolved into more girlish giggling that reminded Solae of when she used to be so easily amused by adult things. At the time her parents had found her adolescent amusements grating because a lack of composure could reflect poorly upon them.

Rene paused at the hatch momentarily uncertain what the child’s laughter portended. It certainly was a positive change but it was unexpected as a gunshot. He grinned as engagingly as he could, he trusted Solae, and anyway, what harm was there in Damaris laughing at him. Sliding across the room he took a seat next to the two women and picked up one of the boxes of food.

“Lets see?” he said, looking at the labels with an expression of exaggerated study.

“We have sweet sugar paste,” he said before setting the brightly colored down and picking up another even more garish example of what the slavers had considered food.

“And we have more sweet sugar paste,” he said sounding exasperated. Damaris giggled and Rene surreptitiously snagged her bottle and took a drink. The jolt of coffee as well as the subtle kick of liquor was bracing. Rene turned his gaze to the girl still smiling.

“What do you think Damaris? Either of them any good?” It was the most direct question he had yet leveled at the girl, but he figured he had to start building trust somewhere. The girl looked uncertainty at Solae who nodded encouragement with a broad friendly smile.

“This one is ok,” Damaris said in a quiet barely audible voice, reaching out with a finger to indicate the first package he had discarded.

“This one is good,” the girl said. Rene nodded as though giving the matter serious consideration and then picked up the package she indicated. It was an almost offensively bright shade of green with a distinctly metallic undertone. The foil wrapper peeled back smoothly revealing a dark slightly powdery chocolate. Rene took a bite and chewed the sweet confection with a smile of approval. Truthfully the chocolate bar was stale and dry but it was no worse than anything he had eaten out of Marine Corp ration pack.

“Mmmmm,” Rene mumbled around a mouthful of food eliciting another giggle from Damaris.

“Well if you ladies are ready,” he said after a moment, nodding towards Solae’s prepared tote.

__________

Rene hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder as he cast a final glance over his shoulder at the Bonaventure. Even though they had left Mia in technical command it felt strange to be leaving the Bonaventure empty of living breathing humans. There was still a light drizzle falling but the clouds were parted in several places, allowing columns of pale sunlight to fall onto the upper slopes of the caldera. The wind still gusted fitfully, drawing long ripples across the surface of the water that covered the bottom of the volcanic depression. Rene had packed his duffle in the hold, careful to keep well out of sight. It was unlikely that Damaris would be comforted to see the electro-motive carbine or the Marine plasma pistol he had stowed in the bag. The various explosives and electronics were less threatening only if one didn’t know what to look for. Fortunately the tools, clothing and other odds and ends he had packed on top of his more dangerous items provided fine camouflage. Across his other shoulder he had the yellow emergency pack that contained the Bonaventure’s emergency raft. He hope it wouldn’t actually be necessary, but then he hoped rather alot of things and he wasn’t willing to risk Solae’s life on not having the proper tools.

The trio climbed the low crumbled shoulder to the beach overlook. Damaris’ eyes fell on the sea and she instinctively gripped Solae. It must have been terrifying for the child, having barely survived being swept out to sea, to contemplate returning to it. The barge bobbed in a few feet of water, still securely tethered to the land and to the outcropping Rene had used as a sea anchor. There was a little time yet before high tide, but Rene wanted to give them a few extra minutes so they could make best advantage of the high water.

As Solae started to try to take a few more steps closer to where the barge was bobbing in the water, floating but tethered in place, she realized that Damaris was firmly anchored in the sand by fear. The pressure of the young girl's grip was not sufficient to bruise but was painfully tight. Though it might be easier to simply drag their young charge to their makeshift vessel to save time, and wait until they were sailing to reassure her, it would also be cruel. Inwardly the diplomat sighed.

Truthfully she couldn't blame the adolescent for her apprehension. Not only had she been traumatized when she was ripped from her home town, violently carried by the water to the island, and deposited on an abandoned caldera half-alive, despite Rene's best efforts their transport was not inspiring confidence. She had no doubt it would survive their journey to San Roayo and that her paramour had done the best he could with the resources available. What she recognized, however, was that for someone as terrified as Damaris nothing short of a huge ship that appeared unsinkable would assuage her. This was no luxury yacht where the owners and occupants could hide below deck and try to avoid the ocean. It was not a military carrier that was so massive one could explore the levels for days without confronting the sight of the sea. All three of them would be exposed to the elements no matter how short the trip and they could not trick themselves into believing they were still on land.

"Damaris," Solae started as she knelt down. "Do you know why I have hair this color?" she asked gently with a soft smile. Her question was so unexpected that the youth blinked several times, distracted momentarily by the query, and almost forgot the dark mass of water that was so close by.

"Your hair?" Damaris replied with her eyebrows knitted in confusion. For a second the girl glanced to Rene who just shrugged affably rather than offer a clue as to either the answer or Solae's aim in asking something so bizarre.

"My parents, and some of my parents' parents, and my parents' parent's parents, used science to make changes to babies before they were born," she explained. It was a gross oversimplification but it was easy to appreciate that details weren't needed to make the point she was about to make. Trying to delve into the technology that was used in genetic modification would be tedious, lengthy, and challenging even for adults. "One of those changes was to make my hair this color. That's why some princesses look a little different. What about our knight, Sir Rene? What do you think they changed about him?"

Damaris was so absorbed in this new line of thought that she turned and stared at Rene for a moment, oblivious to the ocean she had planted herself to avoid proximity to. Solae gave her a few seconds to scrutinize Rene, who seemed somewhat uneasy under the intense stare, before she gave her fiance a subtle wink. "They made him tall?" Damaris suggested. Common men and women were not necessarily short, but nobility had generations ago began assuring their male progeny were typically taller than their counterparts. The average aristocrat towered above their lesser peers given the gap in nutrition and selective DNA editing, though some planets had more comparable heights among their populace.

"Well, I think they did," she whispered as she leaned in, "but they also made him strong. I know it's hard to trust someone you don't know, but because Sir Rene is so strong I know that if anything happens to me on our way to San Roayo he will be able to rescue me better than anyone else. And I know he'll be able to rescue you better than anyone else too. We wouldn't be taking you home like this unless it was the only way. We have to believe in Sir Rene, though, even if it's difficult." Solae paused a minute to let her words sink in and then stood, tugging on the little hand clasped in hers. "You ready to try to get on? If we go now we'll have a chance to sit there for a moment before we have to leave."

Damaris eyed the barge warily as she struggled mentally with pushing past her fears. Sensing her trepidation, but also the smallest hint of courage blossoming beneath the surface, the marquise turned to her soldier and made a motion. "Do you think you could carry her the last few steps?" she asked quietly. The pair might not be the best of friends given their rocky start, but she couldn't imagine that it would hurt to have some physical assistance, especially since she knew from experience that this sort of situation could make someone who was scared feel like their legs were jelly.

Rene paused and slipped an arm free from one shoulder of his pack, allowing the equipment bag to hang from one side of his body. A set of combat webbing would have been much more practical but even if he had one it wouldn’t have made sense to wear. He knelt down in the dry sand, keeping his balance with one hand slightly held away from him.

“Put your arms around my neck and hang on tight,” he instructed, as gently as he could. Damaris gave Solae one more uncertain look and then crossed to the kneeling soldier putting her arms around his neck. Rene counted to three and then straightened, easily lifting the weight of the child. Dramaris put on foot on the bag to help balance and clutched his neck in a tight nervous hug.

“Alright, here we go,” Rene cautioned before striding into the water. The tide was rising rapidly and the water reached to his waist by the time he reached the rusted ladder of corrigated metal that gave access to the now freefloating barge. Unwilling to attempt climbing the ladder with Damaris on his back he instead turned so that she could step onto the ladder directly from his back. She scrambled up it with the easy grace of a child who has spent time climbing trees, disappearing over the gunnel and out of sight. Turning, Rene was relieved to find that Solae was right behind him, though her shorter stature meant that the water came halfway up her stomach. He took her hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“Your carriage awaits my lady,” he said with a smile and a slight bow. Solae gave him a smile and then clambered up the ladder with every bit as much grace as Damaris had shown. It was amazing that a woman who until a few days ago had lived her life at the pinnacle of Imperial society was handling things so well. While Rene himself came from a similar strata, he had years to make the adjustment. There was a faint pain in his chest as he considered the social ramifications of her choosing to be with him, he didn’t want to cause her any suffering or taint her with his disgrace. Not for the first time he put it out of his mind. There would be time to worry about such things once she was safe in Imperial territory.

Once he was sure Solae and Damaris were clear he through his pack up over the gunnel and then turned and struck out for the shore once more. The waves were growing more larger as the tide approached its apogee but he made it back to shore without difficulty and loosed the cable that bound the barge to the shore. Freed from one of its tethers the vessel immediately began to swing right, following the current that ran down the beach, but not at such a rate that Rene worried. He moved as fast as he could, coiling the line into a loop from arm to elbow as he went, even so by the time he was halfway back to the barge the water level had reached his neck. Solae called something to him but he couldn’t make it out over the wind and the waves. Slipping the coil of line over his shoulder he grabbed the cable and pulled himself along it till he reached the boat and climbed up onto the ladder to the obvious relief of both women.

“Your not going to do that with the other one are you,” Solae asked in a tone that made it clear what the correct answer was. Rene, soaked to the bone, shook his head firmly before taking a drink from one of the canteens of fresh water he had bought along.

“There isn’t time before the tide crests,” he told her, not to mention he would have to dive among the waves and risk being driven against the submerged outcropping. It might be useful to have rope but it wasn’t worth risking Solae’s safety. Instead he moved to the stern of the barge and touched the activation stud for the pump they had fitted. It sputtered for a moment while the lines primed and then settled into a smooth pulsing thrum as water began to cycle through the unit.

Rene looked out to sea, the water was still choppy from the wind but there were no white caps save where the water crashed against hidden reefs and shoals. In the distance there were gathering gray clouds, normal weather rather than anything related to the hurricane, and below them a grey silver curtain of rain. He smiled confidently for the women’s benefit but he recognised how dangerous the next few hours were likely to be. Rene licked his lips and moved to the front of the barge and unhooked the line the tethered them to the island. The boat immediately began to drift down the coast, parallel to the shore. Rene ran back and turned the pump rate up to seventy five percent. The water behind them gurgled and foamed and, to his immense relief, the barge began to move forward against the last strength of the incoming tide. The turned the tiller over and, sure enough, the nose swung out towards the sea. There was an immediate thump thump thump as the blunt nose broke through the waves. An old prayer came to his mind from history class and he licked the salt from his lips. It had seemed a foolish concern at the time, after all they had ships that could sail between the stars, why would anyone ever bother with oceans? None the less he repeated a snatch of it under his breath, almost inaudible to all but himself.

“Hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril upon the sea.”

As the barge cut through the waves breaking onto the shore of the caldera, the engine fervently pushing them towards the greater ocean, Solae was infinitely grateful for one of her many genetic modifications made in generations past. Neither she nor Rene were prone to motion sickness. When the aristocracy was sailing the stars many, many years ago they quickly discovered the inconvenience that was any of nobility falling ill due to motion sickness. Most spaceships were more like their aircraft predecessors than their sea relatives, but there was a certain amount of turbulence, especially with interstellar jumps, that could make anyone predisposed empty their stomach and have profound vertigo. Scientists had been tasked with eliminating this weakness that marred their image. It was a minor enough alteration that it had not been subject to the same sort of controversy that surrounded gender selection, aesthetic meddling, and fitness enhancements. The marquise could only surmise that Damaris's tolerance (or immunity) was due to the necessity of her environment. Everyone on Panopontus needed to traverse by boat; only the wealthy could afford better and this planet was not populated by the upper class. Once could rightly assume that the affluent quickly left this world for one of more luxuries as soon as they were able.

"Not the best chanty for right now," Solae murmured in Rene's ear. She was not trying to be critical but she recognized that the reference to 'peril' might unnerve their young passenger. Fortunately Damaris was not paying attention to either one of them. The girl's lips were pressed together tightly as she clutched her seat until her knuckles turned white. Their adolescent friend's eyes were fixated on the horizon in a vacant stare that spoke to either being consumed in fear or actively disassociating from the horror.

Tempted as Solae was to fish out the medical kit for a sedative, just so that her companion would not have to relive her trauma, she knew that would hurt more than help. Sleeping through the journey would grant Damaris an escape from facing her fears, but doing so would almost certainly exacerbate the issue later. Confronting the ocean now could help keep it from festering and anchoring itself so deeply in her psyche there was irreparable damage. One could only imagine how paralyzing it would to dwell on a planet that was classified as "largely aquatic" and be terrified of the coastline. The linguist reasoned there was a great deal of difference, however, between ignoring Damaris completely and enabling through an offer to travel unconscious. What was needed was comforting and reassurance.

"Do you like to read, Damaris?" she asked, tapping gently on the girl's fingers so as not to startle her.

"Read?" Damaris repeated with surprise. Solae had used this tactic on her before and for good reason; an unanticipated change of topic to one seemingly unconnected to the present tended to grab attention. It made a person unconsciously start trying to deduce what had caused the change of subject. Regardless of whether or not such a discovery could be made the brain naturally tried to forge the connections on its own.

"I know how to speak and read a lot of languages," the noblewoman confessed. "When I was in school my teachers were fond of making us read a story in one language, then try to read or translate it into a language we were learning. Do you know what happened? It helped me learn more quickly but it also meant there were a few stories that I had spent so much time reading, and trying re-write in another language, that I remember them very well." Of course Rene knew there was more to it than what she was divulging. Members of the Empress's court and their families typically had incredible memories from the scientific intervention that guaranteed their beauty. Solae's memorization was equal parts repetition and an ability she had been born with. "What if I told you a story while Rene gets us home?"

"What kind of story?" Damaris inquired with a touch of hesitation.

There was a bit of negotiation to be had on which precise tale would be recited. For someone so young Damaris was surprisingly discerning on what she did and did not want, which created a challenge for Solae's limited mental library, but they settled on a relatively modern fable that was penned approximately two centuries ago. Coincidentally the moral that was the theme was tolerance of cultural differences and the importance of cooperation to thrive. There were no Syshin characters or allusions, for bringing in a subjugated race would not have allowed it any amount of success, but they could have been interchanged with the human foreigners.

It took the entirety of the fable, a hearty discussion on metaphors, and a second shorter story that was ancient and centered around a poisonous maiden before San Roayo was close enough that the engine had to be throttled to keep them from crashing into the rocky outcroppings. Damaris had drifted over next to Solae during the ride and they had huddled together for warmth. The air had chilled as the day drew on, the sun dipping below the horizon, and the sky darkened. The dip in temperature had proved to be their biggest discomfort. As if tired from the record-breaking waves created by the typhoon, there were relatively small tides between the land masses, and Rene encountered little difficulty in steering towards their target. All of these factors had bolstered Damaris's confidence significantly. Instead of shrinking back she leaned forward and squinted at the lights and shadows emerging from the craggy rock and grassy hills that dominated the island she called home.

"I think we need to go north- to the left," she told them with the assumption their first destination was her house. Solae glanced to Rene for confirmation he wanted to drop off Damaris before proceeding further. It was her belief this was the best course of action but she didn't want to be a dictator giving out orders. They were equals in their adventure and endeavors. He had just as much weight in their decisions as she did... even if she suspected sometimes he didn't find himself deserving or wanting of such.