But with a simple flick of a switch, Adam once again activated the Juirean transponder. Almost immediately, the two ships on his screen slowed. Then they paralleled his course for a moment before finally veering off.

Even though he had no love lost for the Juireans, at times it was good to be the King!

After setting the coordinates for Castor, Adam shed the alien-blood-stained pressure suit and took a quick shower. He then dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and then went to the ship’s small galley for something to eat. He took the plate of bland-tasting brown mush to the stateroom.

The stateroom aboard the Cassie-1 was the only internal part of the ship that screamed opulence. Designed so a high-ranking Juirean could travel in luxury, it was huge, measuring twenty meters square, with a full-size bed to accommodate the seven-foot-tall Juireans, a private bathroom — grooming station, they called it — and an office area sporting a large metal desk and a four-meter long couch.

The trip to Castor would take two days, and was the headquarters of Seton Amick, the gang leader who had hired Adam for the Bundnet hit. So after finishing his meal, Adam lay down on the couch and propped a pillow under his head. He had carried the boonie hat into the room with him, and now twirled it on his hand absent-mindedly. The floppy-brim hat had been made custom for him by tailors on K’ly. In fact, he had spent most of his first contract fee at the tailor shop. He had them make ten pair of jeans, several white and olive-colored t-shirts, a couple of polo-style shirts, two light jackets and two pair of rubber-soled boots. As he figured, even though he had to live in an alien-dominated universe, he didn’t have to dress like one!