“Neil,” Sayeeda said with a smile, “we both know that we are going to go treasure hunting.” She drained the remainder of the bottle in a single long pull and then tossed it onto the bed. It bounced once and came to rest. There was nothing else in the side board. She felt her face harden.

“And no we aren’t going to break the ship up,” she said flatly.  The Highlander was all she owned in the universe. It represented a decade of mud and blood and death that she had waded through. Friends had died around her, many on her orders, others because she hadn’t been quite quick enough or quite good enough. Neil’s face had blanked and Sayeeda coughed in embarassment.

“Sorry I was thinking of something else,” she cleared her throat.

“Anyway I don’t remember much of what happened after I got blown up. Its uhh… less of a new experience than I would like.” That was unfortunately true, she had proably used more in discretionary medical spending than most people made in their entire lifetime.

“No what I meant was, you told me that you would fill me in on the backstory with you and Saxon and Sven,” she clarified. Her emotions seemed settled now.

“You obviously had dealings in the past, but we are going to need something to drink before you tell me.”