A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but then he smiled. "You're quick," hesaid. "I like that. I take it you're an independent shipper?"

"That's right." I wasn't all that independent, actually, not anymore. But thiswasn't the right time to bring that up. "My name's Jordan McKell. I'm captainof a Capricorn-class freighter called the Stormy Banks."

"Specialty certificates?"

"Navigation and close-order piloting," I said. "My partner Ixil is certifiedin both drive and mechanical systems."

"Actually, I won't be needing your partner." He cocked an eyebrow. "Or yourship, for that matter."

"That makes sense," I said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "What exactlydo you need—a fourth for bridge?"

He leaned a little closer to me across the table. "I already have a ship," hesaid, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It's sitting at the spaceport, fueledand cargoed and ready to go. All I need is a crew to fly her."

"Interesting trick," I complimented him. "Getting a ship here without a crew, mean."

His lips compressed. "I had a crew yesterday. They jumped ship this morning after we landed for refueling."

"Why?"

He waved a hand. "Personality conflicts, factional disputes—that sort of thing.

Apparently, both factions decided to jump without realizing the other side was going to, too. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm not going to make my schedule unless I get some help together, and quickly."

I leaned back in my chair and favored him with a sly smile. "So in other words, you're basically stuck here. How very inconvenient for you. What kind of ship are we talking about?"

"It's the equivalent of an Orion-class," he said, looking like a man suddenly noticing a bad taste in his mouth. Revising his earlier estimate of me downward, no doubt, as his estimate of how much money I was going to try to squeeze out of him went the opposite direction. "Not a standard Orion, you understand, but similar in size and—"