He turned to Milla. “Ithan Chans, would you be so kind as to tell us where we should transport you?”

Milla looked at the captain for a moment. Where could she direct these people that would worry the council the least? Her home world was out of the question. It was one of the Five, the core worlds of the Priminae government, and was central to the defense of the colonies. Even though the people on this ship seemed to be potential allies, she couldn’t lead them to one of the central systems. Perhaps one of the agricultural colonies. One with a star dock.

She considered her options, remembering what worlds were out here on the frontier.

Yes, Port Fuielles is near this area, only a few days’ travel from here. That will do.

“Well, Ithan?” Weston prodded. “Unless you’d like to accompany us home after we’ve completed our shakedown tour.”

Milla smiled. “No, Captaine, that won’t be necessary. Please show me your charts of this area, and I will show you to Port Fuielles, a small outpost orbiting an agricultural world. It will do.”

Weston led Milla to a navigation display showing the local star systems. She quickly located her system, a small yellow star about twenty light-years away, and pointed it out.

“Right here, if you don’t mind.”

Captain Weston nodded. “No problem, Ithan Chans. Commander, direct the coordinates to the helm.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Weston stepped over to Milla. “I would recommend you report to the med-lab. I’ll clear a mild sedative with the doctor.”

Milla looked at Weston in alarm. “Sedative? Why?” These people mean to drug me!

“It is only a recommendation. The transition drive can be”—Weston paused, looking for the right word; after a moment, he gave up and selected one that was inadequate for the task—“trying for someone who doesn’t know what to expect. We know firsthand.”

Milla looked at him speculatively. “You’ll be receiving one of these sedatives as well?”

Weston listened with some amusement to the way she spat the word sedatives.

“No, I won’t have that luxury.”

“Then I, too, refuse the luxury.”

“Very well, Milla, but I expect you will regret that decision once we enter transition.” Weston shook his head. He couldn’t blame her. He’d have done the same in her place. It was just funny how often being smart got you into trouble. Ignorance is bliss, he thought.

“Perhaps.” Milla looked smug, having avoided the sinister trap.

Weston looked her over and smiled, knowing full well what she was thinking, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her that she was wrong. Oh well, her loss. He shrugged, letting it go. It wasn’t his problem anymore.

“Well then, we seem to have the better part of a day or so before we’re clear for transition. Perhaps a visit to the recreation areas?”

Milla seemed to consider his offer and nodded. Weston guided her off the bridge and back to the ship’s lift.

“Recreation decks,” Weston said.

The efficient lift whirred away, dropping them to the outer levels of the forward habitat cylinder in mere seconds. The two of them stepped out into a cafeteria, with several exits leading to other parts of the recreation facilities.