She switched off, feeling slightly ill and not sure why. It seemed wrong to treat the end of Gary’s life as a series of practical choices such as whether or not to have a hologram or a recording as the chaplain… but she’d just done it. In the military, they handled these things better. Tradition took over. If he had been military, his funeral would have fit that final heroism better; she could imagine the draped coffin, the slow march. There would have been no smarmy little man. She rubbed her head hard, trying to stave off tears and think clearly.

What next? Mackensee or ISC? Mackensee—she was fairly sure she knew what they wanted.

Their contact was a fresh-faced young officer, Lieutenant Sanders, as he introduced himself. He seemed inordinately cheerful, and fully familiar with Ky and the situation.

“Captain, we can send a crew over to remove our equipment, starting at 0900 tomorrow.”

“That sounds good. I’ll need to talk to someone about our contract—”

“That’ll be Major Harris; I’ll patch you through in a moment. Colonel Kalin would like to see you at 1400—”

It was 1100 local time now. Her eyes felt gritty. “I can’t leave the ship,” she said.

“Of course. The Colonel knows that. If 1400 is open…”

It was open. That was not how she wanted to spend the afternoon which felt like midnight, but she might as well get it over with. “Fourteen hundred is fine,” Ky said.

“I’ll switch you now to Major Harris,” the lieutenant said.

Major Harris, when he answered, smiled less brightly than the lieutenant, but it was a smile.

“I understand you had some problems with a few of the passengers,” he said. “Good job, only losing three. Under the circumstances, we’re amending the contract, if you agree, to compensate for the extra days, without reference to the smaller number of passengers. We took the liberty of consulting Vatta, Ltd., while we were outsystem, and their legal staff approved the amended contract, pending your agreement. Have you had a chance to confer with them yet?”

“No,” Ky said, feeling grumpier than before. “I haven’t had access to ansible communication yet.”

“Ah. That’s right, the system’s not completely up yet. Well, we can defer this matter until you have had a chance to talk to them, or I can transfer funds into an account for you now, if you’re willing to take my word for it.”

The last time she’d taken his word for something, the ten days and docile passengers had turned into several weeks and a mutiny that cost the life of her crewman. “Let me see the amended contract,” Ky said. “What’s the compensation rate?”

The contract came up onscreen, and the printer hummed—soon she’d have hardcopy. “You’ll notice, when you get to the bottom, that there is a Vatta Transport approval seal from their—your—legal department. There’s also a release from liability, protecting Vatta from suits referencing experiences aboard your ship, and Mackensee from suits by Vatta against us…”

“I… see.” Ky had scrolled quickly past the familiar paragraphs of the original contract, to the amendments and the compensation. She struggled to keep a straight face. That was a lot of money… and the Vatta Transport, Ltd., seal had the right date codes for this quarter. She wanted that money. She wanted every credit of it, in her accounts, right now. Surely if the company’s legal department had approved, it was all right…

“Of course, your company didn’t know all that happened while we were outsystem, and they would probably insist on additional compensation if they knew…”

“Ummm.” Ky was deep in the fine print: per diem per passenger, damages to ship, delay of delivery of cargo, damages to cargo if proven by independent appraiser, interest to be paid per day for delay of payment…

“So I am authorized to offer a two hundred fifty thousand credit additional compensation, but in return would require a statement that this satisfies all debt between us.”

Two hundred fifty thousand? They must really want Vatta Transport off their backs. Ky wondered what Vatta had said—what her father had said.

“With all due respect,” she said, trying to keep her voice from revealing how much she wanted that money, “you do realize I will have to validate the seal on the original, before I can give you a final answer…”

“Of course,” he said. “But it would help us to know whether you are inclining that way or not.”

“With confirmation of my company’s approval, and the additional compensation, I feel sure we can come to an agreement,” Ky said. And she would have her communications board back, and her beacon, and her FTL unit…

“There is one complication,” Major Harris said. “Captain Furman, of the Vatta Transport Katrine Lamont, insists that he has the right to negotiate in your name, make binding decisions on your behalf, and that any funds should be deposited to the account he names. We were not told of his involvement when we were outsystem. Is he, in fact, acting as your agent?”

“He is not,” Ky said. She could hear the anger in her own voice and tried to damp it down. “I believe he was sent here to check on my welfare, but he is neither my boss nor my agent.”

“Good. Since you personally negotiated and signed the original contract, the laws we operate under require us to complete it with you, and involving him would mean a whole new round of legal finagling. Which I, for one, would rather avoid.”

“I also, Major Harris,” Ky said.

“Well, then. Colonel Kalin can bring the amended contract to you when he visits, and if you sign it, we can transfer the funds immediately into—what account did you want to use?”

Not Vatta Transport’s general Sabine account… Furman would seize on that, she knew, and he was the senior Vatta captain in the system.

“I’ll have that for you before then,” Ky said. “I’m not sure of the status of all accounts.” The accounts she did not yet have, but hoped to acquire.

“Very well. Just let us know.”

Ky cut the connection and leaned back with a sigh. She was still tired, and that was only two down, with one coming at 1400—and it was now 1120.

Food would help. And a shower. But first she needed to contact one of the banks and set up an account to receive the transfer. Luckily Sabine Station had a branch of the venerable Crown & Spears Commercial Bank, and it was only too willing to set up an account for Captain Vatta of Vatta Transport, Ltd., so that she could receive a funds transfer later in the day. Could she come in and validate identity, or should they send a technician to the ship?

“Send someone, please,” Ky said. “I need to stay aboard right now; I’m expecting visitors, both civil and military.”

“Very well. We can have someone there with an ID reader in about half an hour. Say 1200?”

“Perfect,” Ky said.

She pushed back from the board, then, and said, “I’m going to shower and eat something. Call me if there’s an emergency, but otherwise…”

“We’ll take care of it,” Lee said. “Don’t worry.”

After a shower and change of clothes, Ky wolfed down a quick lunch. Then the bank ID tech announced himself at the dockside.

Validating her ID took fifteen minutes: the retinal scan, the gene scan, the fingerprints, all compared to the data she had left on file with the station in her earlier visit. When the tech reported in, the bank replied with her new account number. Ky sent that on to Major Harris. She looked at her list… Could she squeeze in someone else before Colonel Kalin arrived? ISC, it would have to be.

The pleasant-looking older woman who came onto the bridge did not look like Ky’s notion of an investigator; she looked more like someone’s mother. Not her own mother, but someone’s. She wore a blue-gray suit, not a uniform; her silvery hair was piled high on her head.

“I’m Sara Illis,” she said. “You must be Captain Vatta. I’ve reviewed the information you were able to send—amazing how much you were able to do with your communications out. A clever idea, using your beacon like that.”