“We could always take the generator to the Jovians,” Callie said. “They’re richer than the TNA, and more closely scrutinized, and frankly less likely to leave us drifting dead in the Oort Cloud.” Callie worked for the TNA, but it was a younger polity, and a bit more savage in its practices. “If we put in place precautions so the Jovians can’t double-cross us, we could get fair payment. They’d probably offer us landed knighthoods, at minimum.” Not that she particularly wanted to settle down on an estate under the carbon-lace domes of Callisto, but it was a possibility to consider. “Before we think about all that, though, we have to see if the bridge generator even works. If it does… Are we willing to take Elena’s offer? I’m not going to compel anyone here. It’s too big and weird and dangerous, so we’ll all vote. If yes, we’ll see if we can find her crew. If no, we give her the bridge generator and drop her on Ganymede with some advice and hope she remembers us fondly after she gets rich.”

“I’m in.” Ashok’s handful of manipulators spun around in a merry whir, his equivalent of excited fidgeting.

“I do have some sympathy for people being unwillingly altered by alien technology,” Drake said. “And it would be a tale to tell, wouldn’t it? Visiting an alien space station? I’ll go if Janice will.”

“It’s nonsense,” Janice said. “But if it turns out not to be nonsense, fuck it, I’m in. Maybe we’ll meet some aliens who aren’t total crap like the Liars are.”

“I have the insatiable curiosity and sense of adventure of my template mind,” the computer said. “I would be delighted to explore.”

Callie snorted. “Your human model traded in his curiosity and sense of adventure for a fun-filled life in commodities trading.”

“Perhaps staying in space has kept my own interest sharp, dar… captain.”

“Mmm. Well, Stephen, it’s down to you. This is the part where you tell us the whole idea is foolhardy, stupid, reckless, and will end in tragedy.”

“It is foolhardy, stupid, reckless, and will end in tragedy. But I’ll go.” He shrugged, tectonic. “Someone has to fix you up when you’re inevitably parasitized by aliens. I will make some small demands in the interests of practicality, though: we do not have sufficient weaponry or defensive measures on board for this kind of mission.” The White Raven was fitted with a few weapons – fore and aft ballistic cannons and ion blasters, and a dorsal plasma bolt gun that offered a 360-degree firing range – which were more than sufficient for their typical security and escort jobs, but definitely more police-grade than military-grade.

“I have an idea about that,” Callie said. “I think I can get us armed up. Sounds like it’s unanimous, then.”