How many others died down there? Only one shelter survived… Weston grimaced. Actually, there was every likelihood of others, but without beacons to guide them, there wasn’t a damned thing he or anyone could do.

Lieutenant Samuels stepped forward to introduce an older-looking woman with a severe expression. “Captain, this is Titualar Saraf. She is the leader of these people.”

“Very good, Samuels. You’d better get the shuttle prepped for another run. We’ve directed all available shuttles to help with the evacuation, but you’ll have to do at least one more run after you’ve refueled.”

“Aye, sir.”

As Lieutenant Samuels turned back to her cockpit, Weston extended a hand to the woman, anchoring her to the floor as she moved forward. “This way, ma’am. We’ll catch a lift up to the habitat levels after decontamination.”

The woman blinked, then said something in return that came through as a garbled mess through his induction ear-piece. Weston frowned, glancing over at Dr. Palin.

“I don’t know, Captain. One moment and I’ll…” the suddenly nervous linguist muttered, tapping away on his PDA.

“Just a moment, Captain,” Samuels said, snapping her helmet down. After a moment, she looked up. “I’m sending you the new program now.”

A tone signaled the download and Weston checked his PDA. He activated the new program and looked at Saraf. “Can you understand me now, ma’am?”

“Yes, Capitain,” she told him, smiling patiently, “I can.”

“They speak a different dialect, sir,” Samuels told him. “It’s close, but the differences give the computer some problems.”

“Fascinating,” Palin said, already digging through the source code for the new modifications. “Oh, I say, who coded this? It’s quite remarkable.”

“Lieutenant Savoy, sir,” Samuels said. “Captain, if you don’t mind?”

Weston nodded. “Go do your preflight, Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” She saluted, turned, and vanished back inside.

Weston turned back to Saraf. “We have to go through decontamination. I’ll escort you up to the infirmary, where you can look in on your people. Will that be acceptable?”

The woman nodded, following as Weston guided her toward the far wall of the shuttle bay. Her expression was distracted, her thoughts obviously barely focusing on the conversation as she looked over her people. “Thank you, Capitain.”

Weston smiled at her as they reached the far wall. “No problem, ma’am. All part of the service.”

The twenty-minute decontamination procedures left the survivors tired, slumping them in the lift’s seats as the capsule carried them to the Odyssey’s second habitation cylinder.

“I do wish to see my people,” Saraf said, in the peculiar accent that sounded almost, but not quite, French to Weston.

Weston looked up. “Of course, ma’am. We’ll visit the infirmary first. After that, we’ll move over to the recreation decks to find a place for your people to stay. That’s the only place where we have room and normal gravity.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Saraf brushed off Weston’s concerns.

Moments later, the two of them strode into the med-lab, Weston guiding his charge over to where Dr. Rame was working.