The Quantum Foam was not a speed demon, it took twelve days to get to Starbase Six. The Ready Tooth kept formation the whole way. LaSaille watched the crew relax as they locked down after docking. Meyers stood beside the command chair.
       "Orders sir?"
       "Top off our consumables. You may authorize station passes to the crew once the ship is seen to. I'll need to see Admiral Decurte and file statements with the Advocate General. I'll have a good idea of the stay time after that."

       Aleilan made herself comfortable in the foyer while Jerry went into the Admiral's office. Admiral Decurte, a broad, white haired man that favored a Vulcan haircut and a walrus mustache was waiting for him.
       "Well Captain LaSaille, I didn't expect to see the Kongo."
       "I didn't expect to stop, but we ran into an incident in progress."
       "You put the Qzin in their place I assume."
       "Actually sir, they have a legitimate complaint. I'm filing with the Advocate General and turning the prisoners over to them. I imagine that Charr-Captain is already there.
       Decurte frowned. "I don't like giving them any leverage Captain. What is it this time?"
       "Basil."
       "Basil, that again. Captain, if every human ship that carries basil was stopped they would own us."
       "Intent is the crime. From the evidence I have gathered Harrison intended his basil for sale on the Patriarchy."
       "What evidence is that"
       "Harrison lied about it when directly questioned."
       "Qzin telepath?"
       "Backed up by the two I have aboard."
       "You have two telepaths?"
       "Yes, myself and Aleilan."
       "That is mighty damming. I still don't like it. They are sneaky and over a hundred years after the last war they still push every chance they get."
       "If we expect reason, we must be reasonable, and abide by our own laws."
       "Yes, but I still don't like it."
       "I don't find myself inclined to 'like' them either, but fair is fair."
       "Harumph. So, what does the Kongo need?"
       "Very little Sir, we are only 12 days from Earth and 24 days out. I would like to top off, and get going as soon as the Advocate is done with us."
       "I see little reason to amend your orders. Carry on then."
       "Aye aye sir."
       "Dismissed."

       Aleilan got up as he came out of the office. **Advocate next?**
       **Yes, I hope they don't give Charr-Captain too much trouble.**

       Charr-Captain and Telepath where sitting in the outer office when LaSaille and Aleilan entered. Both had their ears back. Charr-Captain got up as they entered. He came over to LaSaille.
       "Captain LaSaille, this one will not covey my complaint to the Advocate." He pointed at the Lieutenant manning the desk.
       "Come with me."
       "Lieutenant?"
       "Yes sir?"
       "Why have you not recorded this being's complaint?"
       "Sir, he's a Qzin, they are always making false complaints."
       Charr-Captain was baring teeth.
       Jerry turned to him. "Calm yourself." Back to the Lieutenant. "You're dismissed."
       "Sir?"
       "And you are reduced one grade in rank pending disciplinary review."
       "Sir?!"
       LaSaille put an edge to his voice. "Ensign, it is not your job, to pre-judge the complaints that are brought to you by any being. It is your job, or was, to record them for the Advocate to hear."
       "But sir?"
       "And since you are slow to obey orders, confine yourself to quarters until further notice. Computer?"
       "[Working]"
       "Log the previous exchange. Forward the log to the Ensign's commanding officer. Signed, Captain Jerold Ryan LaSaille, USS Kongo, commanding."
       [Log recorded.]
       LaSaille narrowed his eyes. "You are dismissed."
       The former Lieutenant stumbled his way out of his chair and into the hall.
       A voice spoke from the Advocate's office door. "You were pretty hard on the kid Captain."
       LaSaille turned to the lanky Bantu woman standing there. "Do you honestly think so?"
       She looked thoughtful for a moment. "No. I'm Captain Jamala Haki, Advocate General for the sector."
       "Captain Jerold LaSaille, USS Kongo."
       "Come it, and bring your friends with you."
       He followed her in as did the two Qzin and Aleilan. Telepath putting as much distance between himself and Aleilan as possible.
       One they settled in Captain Haki continued. "Computer?"
       "[Working]"
       "Begin recording, Complaint of Charr-Captain."
       "[Recording]"
       "I am Captain Jamala Haki, Starfleet Advocate General for sector 8. Now comes Charr-Captain of the Qzin Police Forces and Captain of the Ready Tooth. Also present are Captain Jerold LaSaille, USS Kongo, commanding, the Qzin Telepath from the Ready Tooth, and Aleilan, an Ane. Charr-Captain, what is the complaint?"
       Charr-Captain said. "I accuse the master of the Quantum Foam and his crew of conspiring to transport rass thaan to the Patriarchy with the intent of selling it there."
       "What evidance do you have of this alleged crime.?"
       "Rass thaan is on his ship, he had a stop planned on the Patriarchy, and he lied when asked if he planed to sell it there."
       "What evidence do you have that he lied?"
       "A statement to that effect by Telepath, and corroborated by Captain LaSaille, and the Ane Aleilan."
       Captain LaSaille, do you agree with this as a statement of fact."
       "I do. I wish to append the log of the USS Kongo as evidence."
       "It is so noted that the log of the USS Kongo is appended."
       "Captain LaSaille what are your qualifications to know if someone is lying?"
       "I am Ansisi, a Human telepath that is part of the Ane All."
       "So noted. And Aleilan, do you corroborate the statement of Charr-Captain as well?"
       **I do.**
       "So noted."
       "[No testimony recorded.]"
       Advocate Heki looked stymied. "Computer, pause log."
       [Affirmative, log paused.]
       "It can't hear her."
       **I don't have a telepathy to speech device. They exist, but I don't have access to one.**
       "Where can we get one?"
       **The USS Nia has them, it is currently in shake down testing near El Nanth.**
       "Too far away. We will have to strike your testimony."
       Charr-Captain's eyes narrowed. "Well that affect the trial?"
       "No, it shouldn't. Telepath and Captain LaSaille's statements are more than enough to file an indictment. The truth will be known. Start log."
       "[Recording log.]"
       "The statement by Aleilan is telepathic in nature, and failed to record. I testify that she answered the question in the Affirmative. End log."
       "[Log ended.]"
       LaSaille said. "How much time are we talking? I do have a ship to get on station."
       "Three days on the outside. Both the prosecution and the defense will need a day to get statements and do discovery. We will hold the trial after that."

       Jerry and Aleilan walked back to the ship. **Well,** said Jerry, **that was inconvenient.**
       **Yes, that is why the interface was invented.**
       **But we don't have one.**
       **We can call ahead, I'll have one readied should we have a need.**
       **You do that.**
       Crewmen were coming off the gangway as they approached the ship.
       Jerry said. **That was quick.**
       **We barely had time to touch the consumables.**
       **True. Shall we catch a bit of rest ourselves?**
       **Sure.**

       Now hear this. Now hear this. "USS Kongo NCC-1710 departs at 2100 hours. All crew are recalled to the Kongo. The USS Kongo NCC-1710 departs at 2100 hours. All crew are recalled to the Kongo. That is all."
       Captain LaSaille trotted onto the gangway. The trial was quick and sweet. Admittedly the Qzin were not happy. Harrison and crew were getting off with hefty fines, and a warning not to enter Patriarchy, if they valued their lives. Then Harrison wasn't happy either. He had a conviction on his record that would look bad when his master's license came up for review. He smooched Aleilan on the nose as she got off on the fifth deck. He continued to the bridge.
       LaSaille slowed down as he came off the turbolift. Mr. McCaffrey was sitting at a new station and checking out the attached tactical display. A crewman was running a fuser along the seam in the carpet.
       McCaffrey turned to a technician at the sciences station. "Run the data stream again Mr. Clarke."
       Clarke turned to the board and did as asked.
       "That looks good. Top o' the afternoon Captain."
       "Mr. McCaffrey, I hardly expect this done so soon."
       "Now sir, tis well ye should know that ye never give engineers an idle moment, or they change the whole ship around on ye."
       "I'm glad you only had three days."
       "Sadly, not enough time to be dismounting the warp drives for the flossing of them, that would take at least four."
       "Is it done?"
       "Yes sir. Try it out." McCaffrey got up and waved broadly to the new station.
       LaSaille had a seat and checked out the controls. "Mr. Clarke, send your data stream again."
       "Yes sir."
       LaSaille watched the results then shut the panel down. "Very good Mr. McCaffrey. Just what I wanted."
       "Yes sir, thy will be done."

       Now hear this. Ensign Mirmyr's 1100 belly dancing class has been canceled due to extra duty. That is all.
       Vivian Tate carried her tray to the table. Conversation was lively today.
       Ensign Miller was talking: "This new Captain is different. Dock passes within two hours of docking, and less than a month in space?"
       Eng. Card broke in. "Giving the Qzin an even break. That's unusual."
       Lt. Tate said. "Captain Diaz would have done the same thing."
       "Well yes. Not to imply that Captain Diaz was less than just. Captain LaSaille is well, more easy going."
       Lt. Tate pointed her fork at him. "In some things Ensign, but not in others.
       Miller came back. "How about that new station for the First Officer? I've been in fleet ten years and I have never seen something like that."
       Lt. Tate continued attacking her sausage. "That one I'll give you. Obviously the Captain considered that it was needed to better serve the ship. Mr. McCaffrey was his usual self in efficiency in getting it in.
       Card mused. "I wonder if he would vet a change in the hall carpeting, I've never liked that color."
       Miller snorted. "That would improve efficiency."
       Card looked hurt. "It would improve mine."

       Ian McCaffrey pressed the call on the Captain's office door.
       "Come."
       He entered and took a seat. "Ye be wanting to see me sir?"
       "Yes, I am going to punish you for being good at your job."
       "Another special project?"
       "Yes, in a word. Something not so simple."
       "Well give."
       "In the recent incident I found myself running around the ship. Why is my office on deck five, the main briefing room on deck three, but the bridge is on deck one.?"
       "That's where the designers put them sir."
       "Not very efficient. As you are aware the business of the ship keeps me down here more than on the bridge. I don't like being this out of touch."
       "What would ye have me do sir?"
       "I want an office on deck one."
       "Aye, I'm good Captain, but where would ye be wantin me to put it, the head?"
       "I looked over the plans." Jerry brought up a graphic. "This bulkhead here to the right of the main view screen has nothing behind it. If we extend the bow of deck one like this, we would have room for a small office and a conference room. Not as big as the main briefing room to be sure. But enough for those quick off bridge chats."
       "Begging the Captain's pardon, but that is a lot more than a chair and a tactical display. That's major dockyard work ye be talking about."
       "Can you do it?"
       "Well, I'd have to get approval from Fleet. I need to schedule the dock time. Have the thing made. All this not to speak of the designing of it. Aye, I could do it, and lay the ship up another month."
       "If you had the cap prefabricated?"
       "A week, if it was done to the last conduit."
       "I can arrange that, if I can get the design from you."
       "Might I be asking how."
       "We are going to El Nanth. I have some Influence there. Give me your designs and I can have the cap fabricated to your exacting standards by the time we arrive."
       "And the matter of permission?"
       "My concern."
       "Aye Captain, it be a big leap off a steep step. Altering the lines of a Starfleet cruiser."
       "Don't worry Chief. My problem. You just design it for me."
       "I'll do that for ye. But I hope ye know what you're in for."

       "Now hear this. Ensign Malloy to sickbay. Ensign Mallory report to sickbay. That is all."
       Candice Meyers reached up to the comm panel and muted the all call. The man beside her stirred.
       Guy Masterson rolled over. "Can't sleep?"
       "No. My brain won't shut down."
       "So what is it this time? Protein stores? Plasma flux readings?"
       "No, our Captain."
       "Why should he worry you? We seem to have drawn a gem. The crew is really starting to like him, and you served with him once."
       "It got a lot more personal than that. I don't know Guy, the man has become a cipher to me. It's like someone totally different. Kind, gentle, non violent."
       Was he some kind of... animal?"
       "On Anaxar? Controlled cold fury. I saw him kill without so much as a flicker of emotion. It's like that man was erased and someone different with the same memories replaced him."
       "I think I would be glad to see that man erased."
       "Thinking about it he was that way period. Through the entire patrol he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder about the whole war."
       "I've heard of people taking war personally before. He might be one of them."
       "Yea, but that personally? He really was mad at the Klingons for starting a war with him. Not the Federation, but with him."
       "And you don't see any of that?"
       "No. Now he is calm and even handed, not even much of a temper. He never did show any temper."
       "Can I suggest something?"
       "Suggest."
       "The man on Anaxar was the anomaly. Candy you told me this man is old, old enough to have fought in the last wars on Earth."
       "Yes, but keep that under your hat Guy, seriously under your hat."
       "Could it be that he does take war personally, in that he is tired of it?"
       "Yes, he even said something to that effect. 'Every time I stick my head up, it's another lousy war.' War is not on his list of things to do."
       "Can you really say you even know him?"
       "No, I can't. Two years as the man's lover, and I don't even know him. He is, and I suppose always was, a cipher."
       "Do you still want that?"
       Candy turned to her lover. "No Guy, it's over."
       "But it isn't."
       "How do I resolve unresolved issues that are ten years old?"

       In country... The term sprang unbidden and unwelcome to his mind. In country, that was Anaxar, only wetter, and colder.
       In country. He had been here nigh on to two years now. He knew the forest well. The eternal hiss of the rain, the sounds of the animals, the lay of the land. Jerry hunkered lower suddenly tense with the caution that thought engendered. The last assignment had gone well, too well. He knew he couldn't work forever without the Klingons getting wind of it. He was being followed, tracked back to the cabin he and Meyers shared. That would not do.
       The stream was up ahead. Jerry slipped into the cold water. He bit back the gasp that threatened to escape. Two hundred yards, up stream, double back, follow his own track. Stay upwind, these guys had great noses. There, the hunter was at the steam, trying to follow the track. The Klingon froze, Jerry stopped cold. Their actions were too swift to follow. The Klingon warrior whipped around the knife flashing, (BOOM!) The bullet entered his left cheek and blew out the back of his head. The Klingon warrior fell heavily into the water. Jerry pulled the knife from his gut. Damn that hurt.
       Rustling in the brush... Jerry turned and fired. The bullet caught the Klingon in the hip, spun him around and dropped him. The warrior used the momentum to roll back to his feet. (BOOM!) The second bullet caught him square in the chest. He sat down. Slowly this time he tried to rise. Jerry flicked the knife into his neck. He dropped and stayed there. Jerry quickly retrieved the knife and rifled his person for further weapons. As he worked Jerry counted off, three more bullets. He only had two left. There would be a third hunter at least. He was being more cautious in his approach. He better have some weapons as well. Jerry needed them.
       Aleilan's blue eyes washed the scene away.
       Jerry rolled over and sat up. **Why?**
       **Why the memories?**
       **Yes, I haven't thought of Anaxar in years, never mind dreamed about it.**
       **It is usually the older wars that trouble you.**
       **Am I being troubled, or reminded?**
       **Only you can answer those questions.**
       **Candy. I never did resolve that and now, well she is here. Anaxar was the place, so that is what surfaces in my mind.**
       **What is to resolve?**
       Jerry brushed the mane from Aleilan's face. **A question to make me think?**
       **You haven't dwelt much on Anaxar or Candy for five years.**
       **I see her every day. It makes her hard to avoid.**
       **Or the questions she arouses?**
       **Or the questions. Being the commanding officer has problems. I can't properly say "Mr. Meyers, we need to resolve old lover's wounds today".**
       **It would rather make things worse if I read Humans right.**
       **You do, this time.**
       **I know you. So what will you do?**
       **Keep stepping, and look for an appropriate opportunity.**

       Builder Station grew large in the viewscreen. Jerry smiled at the sight. It meant home to him now. The Savanna was still docked at the spot he left her. He would have to see to a visit.
       Mr. Collard said. "El Nanth Starbase is asking for helm control sir."
       "Let them have it Jean."
       "Aye aye sir. Helm control to El Nanth Starbase, now."
       Jerry was impressed, he couldn't tell the difference.
       The big door irised open as they approached. The Kongo rode into the massive dock as if on rails. The ship slowed as they approached the red dock membrane. As the last of their momentum died the amoeba like dock membrane gently reached out and grasped the hull of the Kongo.
       Collard's eyes bugged a bit. "How does it do that?"
       McCaffrey chuckled. "Ye tell them Jean, and thanking ye for it they will be."
       Jerry said. "Ian has it to a 'T'. No one knows how they work, or how anything works on the station. It's an artifact three quarters of a million years old. We take it as it comes."
       The bridge crew finished locking down the stations. Soft thumps indicated that umbilicals were being attached to the ship.
       Jerry hit the all call. "Attention all hands, this is the Captain speaking. We are docked at El Nanth Starbase. Consult your monitors for duty rotation and leave schedules. Please address any questions to your section leader. Enjoy your leaves, and we will see everyone in two weeks. Captain out."
       Jean Collard finished locking down the helm she turned to the Captain. "Are you taking leave sir?"
       He smiled. "I'm going home for a few days. I hang my hat in this system. Oh and people take the sun warnings seriously. El Nanth will peel your hide off in layers quicker than any place you have ever been."

       Admiral Hull looked the plans over. He flicked between the pages. "I don't know Jerry. It's a big modification to make."
       "Mark, I wondered on the Republic and later on the Enterprise why the class didn't have a day room for the Captain. It's an old and practical idea."
       "That's a lot of modification to make. It will change the whole look of the ship."
       "And how often do we look at them? Look I had the cap made on my own dime. It's over at El Nanth Starships. My Chief Engineer says he can get it on in a week. Yes it will change the look of the ship, but will not alter her warp dynamics in the least."
       "What does this thing mass?"
       "A couple of tons. Yes it will change the ship's trim. I've worked that out with Mr. McCaffrey as well."
       "How much?"
       "Slight reballast. The simulations we ran show no loss in tactical performance."
       "I don't know Jerry. It's a big change for a convenience."
       "I see it as a matter of efficiency. I've done this job now for a hundred days. In that time I have hopped from the office to the bridge dozens of times. Sometimes several times in an hour. I want to do the mundane work of the ship a little closer to the action. You know how critical a Captain's call can be sometimes. What if that call is needed in the time it takes to get from the office to the bridge?"
       "You have the thing made?"
       "Yes, we only have two weeks here."
       "What if I said no?"
       "I'm out the effort. I'll let the Ane weld it on the Nia."
       Hull flipped through the designs again. "I don't have the dockyard workers to spare you."
       "I'll have El Nanth do the work. They fitted out the Nia. They know the class."
       Jerry I am not at all certain about this, but your ideas have generally worked in the past. If you have it done, 'on your dime' as you put it, I'll let you do it."
       Jerry grinned. "Thank you. There won't be any regrets."
       Hull grumbled. "I better not regret it. Now, what are you and Aleilan doing for dinner."
       "We're at your service Mark."

       "Now hear this. Technicians Bell, Givens, and Kessle report to the Chief Engineer's office. Technicians Bell, Givens, and Kessle report to the Chief Engineer's office. That is all."
       Denise Ballard watched the crew passing through sickbay for "sun care kits". She grumbled to her Head Nurse.
       "Dammit all Jimmy. I wonder how many are going to come back with any skin?"
       "I wouldn't worry too much Doctor. I notice how much the sun warnings are stressed here."
       "Blue-white suns and class M worlds are not supposed to mix."
       James Maxwell continued to make up more kits. "Well they do here. How do Ane survive?"
       "They're built for it Jimmy. Their eyes reflect ultraviolet, and a good deal of blue. That's why they look solid like that. They have one tough hide and pigmented mucus membranes. They have the evolutionary adaptation, that's how."
       "Are you going on leave?"
       "Sure, but I am saying off the beach. I am also taking a hat, with a wide brim. First, I have another call to make."

       Denise Ballard leaned against the old dock space. Two over, the USS Ulysses S Grant had docked there. Howard Nelson and his crew had walked this very deck.
       "Good men, every one. I was saddened to learn of their loss."
       She turned, the Captain stood in the open area. This level of the docks was not frequented. "How do you know I was thinking of that?"
       "Well, you're here. The "Grant Dock" seems to be becoming a place of pilgrimage. Two, you are very loud when you think."
       "Reading minds again eh?"
       "The hard thing to learn is how not to read them. I take it communing with the lost was not your reason for coming."
       "It was one of them. You were the other. I figured this would be one of your stops."
       "I always visit the old girl." Jerry walked up to the aging hull. He entered the code, and the door slid back into the hull. "Come on in Doctor."
       Ballard followed him in. He led her to the wardroom, took a bottle down and two glasses. He poured a measure each.
       "Prescriptions eh? I thought you were going to let me do the doctoring."
       "This is bartending, different but subtly the same."
       She sat down and looked into the glass. "I am singularly dry of toasts."
       "Don't let it bother you. I'm not the toasting and drinking kind. Since you are in a history mode, Admiral Barnard last drank from that decanter."
       She took a longer look at the glass, and the bottle. "You don't drink much."
       "Worse than that. "Mark Sylow gave me that bottle of bourbon in 2062."
       "Two-hundred year-old bourbon?"
       "Yes Madam. From the most famous distillery in Kentucky." Jerry took a small sip. "It has improved."
       She sipped likewise. "Hmm, yes, that IS smooth."
       "So what are the questions?"
       "So many to ask I don't know where to start. Who was Mark Sylow?"
       "One of the young men that helped me build this ship. I understand he was one of the victims of Wintermute. He probably died hating my guts. Then again, he likely wasn't thinking about me at the time. So many young men, young women, bright, beautiful, all dust. Colin Powell, fresh faced second lieutenant in 'Nam. He was killed in the Eugenics war. Mark Sylow, Shara Green, 'Padre', those kids off the Grant. None saw a quiet grave at the end of a fulfilled life."
       "Who was 'Padre'?"
       "I don't know. A man on the African plains with a priest's collar, and a deep faith in his God. He wanted to help people, and he knew a little jackleg medicine. He was as much a doctor as any of us. What demons chased him he hid well."
       "Have you never had good times?"
       Jerry smiled. "Yes, this is a good time. Those hundred years I spent baking my brains out on Savanna. My first marriage, all happy times, and forever too short."
       "Have you been married since?"
       "Several times. I buried two wives on Savanna. A good dozen or more love affairs, some serious. I'm no monk. They all end the same, she dies."
       "I worry about the stability of the Captain, Jerry."
       "Because I ramble on about old friends and lovers over Kentucky bourbon? I thought that is what old bourbon was for. You are asking the leading questions."
       "I'm an old woman by Human standards. Late middle age if I get into the right state of denial. You are, how to say it, a look beyond to a place I cannot go, but really want to."
       "I used to tell people that immortality was not something they wanted, if it is immortality at all. They would call me a liar with their eyes, or even right to my face. Make up your own mind Denise, would you want to be me? You can't pass it on, you can't gift it. You and you alone may have the golden prize."
       "I don't know. Life is attractive to me. I love life, but to live on passed one's time and one's friends, I don't know."
       "I don't know is a good place to leave it. I don't know. I step a day at a time. Right now I am Captain of the Kongo, and that is a happy place to be. What about you?"
       "Ah the worm turns. What about me?"
       "Why are you still out here?"
       "Because my good man, that is where my friends are. There is one more important thing."
       "That is?"
       "I have yet to see it all. For that reason Jerry, I envy you. You will get to see more of the universe than I ever will."
       "How do I deal with it?"
       "Seeing the universe? Why, enjoy!"
       "No, my delicate condition. How do I deal with it?"
       "In what way?"
       "Humans do not live to be 320 years old. Yet here I sit. I've been cursed, wondered at, attacked, even worshiped. The last was the most disturbing. How do I deal with it?"
       "What have you done so far?"
       "Lied, mostly, told the truth when it was too obvious to deny."
       "I don't know that I have advice you can take on that Jerry. But is has been my experience that lies catch up with one, usually when least convenient. I tell the truth, it leaves my life less complex."
       Jerry knocked back the rest of the bourbon. "My Father always said much the same thing. I'll keep that advice in mind."

       Candice Meyers looked out from the shelter of the Starfleet hostel in Crystal City. The pavement simmered and it was only mid morning. A few people moved around, all wore long sleeves, big hats and sunglasses.
       "Man Vivian, you where not kidding. It looks evil out there."
       "It's not that hot. We are far enough away the the sun to keep the heat no worst than tropical. However, the UV exposure is 5 times worse. Your SPF 20 is only SPF 4. You did use the third spigot on the shower?"
       "Yes, full blast."
       "Good. That helps a lot. Now the shopping is to die for. Let's go."
       Jean Collard adjusted her native costume and headed out with the others. "Will we see many Ane?"
       Vivian was wasting no time getting down the street. The pedestrian ways had covered awnings, and people used them. "Not likely, there's a couple to the right. Most are out on the open plains. If you want to meet the locals we can rent a hovercar and head out. They will question your eyes right out of their sockets. The young are the worst."
       "It would be a shame to be here and not see Ane."
       "It you two want to. Ane are old news to me and I'm old news to them."
       Candy asked. "What's it like growing up here?"
       "Well there are not many non-Ane people, less than a quarter million humanoids. This is the only city in the system. Most of the Ansisi live on Savanna, which has the only small town. Other than having the universal market at your doorstep and an awareness of the sun delivered with mother's milk, it's a lot like any other small colony world."
       Jean was rubbernecking. "This city is beautiful. When was it built?"
       Six thousand years ago by someone called the El Aurians. They eventually left and the city was left behind. It was here for the first refugees from Earth. They also built High Crystal. Here is the mall. Ladies, shopper's paradise. If an Orion calls you 'good stock', kick him in the balls. He hasn't been here long enough and needs the lesson."

       The women worked their way down the stalls. Slowly they gathered the usual bits that Starfleet bought. Candy was looking over an intricate bowl.
       "That guy looking at me is giving me the creeps."
       Vivian looked at him. "Yea, if he creeps you out that badly, shoot him. On stun, kill will get you talked about."
       The man quickly wiped any expression from his face, and busied himself with something else.
       Candy looked after him. "You aren't kidding?"
       "No, look mean, I'll tell you why later."
       Candy put the bowl down. "Lunch sounds good how about you Jean?"
       "Suits, my feet are killing me."

       A few minutes later the three women were enjoying crisp salads with tall drinks to match.
       Jean couldn't get enough of the salad. "This is great stuff."
       Vivian was digging in likewise. "Local farms, we grow for export now."
       Candy waged her fork. "Are you a farmer's daughter?"
       "Nope, Fleet brat. My Dad is a Chief Petty officer in the Fleet construction corp. Mom likes dirt-side better than Builder Station. She said the place gave her the creeps. Oh, Mom wanted me to bring you home for dinner, if that's all right?"
       Jean said. "Sure, sounds good, home cooking and all."
       Candy squirmed a bit. "Can I take a pass. Guy was meeting me tonight."
       Vivian smiled. "No pressure, it's my fault for not saying something sooner."
       "So, what's the deal with just shooting people?"
       "Did you read the local rules issued?"
       "Obviously not as well as I should have. I got the part about stay armed. I assumed the place was dangerous."
       "There are two laws here. 'Be it harm none, do as you will.' and 'There is no such thing as an over reaction to force.'"
       Jean dropped her fork. "You really meant kick him in the balls."
       "Every bit of it."
       Candy mused. "This explains some of the stuff I have seen for sale."
       "Yes, much that is illegal elsewhere is not illegal here. Be careful what you buy to take off planet."

Continued in part three