"Don't worry about it." Phule started to finish his cardboard cup of coffee, then set it aside with a grimace when he realized any trace of heat in the liquid had long since fled. Some things remained untouched by technological advances. "It's not like we're taking a commercial flight. This ship has been hired specifically to transport us to Haskin's Planet. I doubt it'll leave without us if we're a few minutes late."

"I wish I shared your confidence, sir. More likely the pilot will cancel the flight completely and make do with half payment for a no-show."

Phule cocked his head quizzically at his companion.

"You're certainly a Gloomy Gus today, Beeker. In fact, you've been more than a bit dour ever since the court-martial. Anything in particular bothering you?"

The butler shrugged. "Let's just say I don't have the greatest faith in the generosity of the Legion, sir."

"For example?"

"Well, for one thing, there's this chartered flight. Considering the tight-fisted nature of the Legion, I find it a bit out of character for them to allow the added expense of a private ship rather than using normal commercial transport."

"That's easy." Phule laughed. "The commercial lines only fly to Haskin's Planet once every three months."

"Exactly." Beeker nodded grimly. "Has it occurred to you that this new assignment is more than a bit away from the mainstream of activity?"

"Beeker, are you trying to say you suspect that my promotion and subsequent assignment are something less than a reward?"

There was an edge on his employer's voice that made the butler hesitate before answering. While normally pleasant enough to deal with, Phule also had a temper that ran to icy exactness rather than blind rage, and Beeker had no wish to become the focus of it. Still, there had always been an unspoken agreement of total honesty between them, so he summoned his courage and plunged onward.