Junebug responded with a decidedly noncommittal grunt that trailed off into an awkward silence. Taya coughed and then pulled up a holographic list of dock charges and tankage fees.


“Speaking of nothing we were talking about, how are we planning on paying for all of this. Doesn’t seem like the kind of placed that has a lot of merc for hire type work,” Taya observed. 


“You’d be surprised,” Sayeeda replied with a touch of grimness that evaporated as she keyed in inputs to her own holographic screen. “But as it happens I actually have a bank account here.”


“You have a bank account here? Why?” Neil asked. Sayeeda turned in her seat and raised an eyebrow.


“My dad opened it for me when I was six. I got a little dinosaur toy and everything,” Sayeeda chuckled. 


“And are your dino dollars going to run to repairing a starship?” Neil asked clearly bemused by the idea of a six year old Sayeeda. Junebug touched a control and her screen turned multidirectional displaying a balance of close to a million credits.


“Generous allowance?” Neil half chocked.


“My pension is deposited here,” Junebug explained, authorizing the account to deal with he dockyard via a digitized thumb pint. 


“Still a generous pension,” Taya pressed elicitng another shrug from the mercenary.


“Col.. Pesident-for-life Andor was always good about taking care of his people,” Junebug explained.


“Plus he liked to make sure none of his officers were inclined to …uhhh follow him into politics with a full magazine if you take my meaning,” she explained. Taya laughed.


“You mean you are being paid off not to launch a coup against your old boss?” she snickered. Junebug shrugged.


“Me and a bunch of other people,” Junebug said. Most of the Armored’s officers had gotten on well, but she knew of a handful that wouldn’t let sentimental loyalty for old times get n the way of a big payday. Soldier of Fortune had fortune right in the name overall. This way Andor kept everyone more or less out of his way for an amount that was less ruinous than fighting half a dozen small wars. 


“Docking protocol as engagun,” Lonney brogued as the ship began to turn on her access to approach the hangar, a job for automated beacons rather than human intervention. 
“Home sweet home.”


Customs was a relatively brief affair, borne by seasoned travelers with amusement rather than irritation. Fortunately the process was greatly simplified by Sayeeda being a Celandine Citizen which allowed her the option simply to vouch for Taya and Neil and assume legal responsibility for any crimes r damages they caused. The no firearms policy was somewhat harder to deal with and neither the excuse that she was a military officer for whom a side arm was a necessary article of uniform, nor the somewhat shop worn diplomatic credential Sayeeda had received from Prince Aiden years before allowed her to keep her weapons.


So it was that Sayeeda found herself completely unarmed as she exited the downport and walked right into an ambush. 


“Sayeeda!” a voice called from the security barricade ahead. The speaker was handsome looking woman in her late middle years who shared enough facial features with her Sayeeda to make her idenity obvious to within a reasonable degree of certainty. Her next words eliminated even that fine ambiguity.


“You weren’t even going to call?!”


“Hello Mother,” Junebug said with the grim bravado of a woman facing a firing squad.