- Prologue

'Ah!'

The relief was vocal across a dozen mouths as the glitter caught the light, the ship flaring out and riding the airwave in front of itself, touching down discreetly after passing over the blast pad and the threshold and somewhat ahead of the persistent dark marks occasioned by generations of student pilots.

Theo still had her mouth open as the sound of touchdown reached her, a barely distinguishable barrup as the ship actually settled, as the golden thing gleamed by at twice the rate a Star King landed at . . .

A sudden hissing reached them as a brief cloud obscured the bright beacons well down the airstrip . . .

'Retros,' came knowledgeably from behind her. 'Look at that thing slow down!'

The sound of the rocket hiss almost obscured another comment.

'Scouts!' said Bova, lowering his glasses and shaking his head. 'You like 'em or you hate 'em, whichever, they sure can pilot!'

Theo stared at the ship, still slowing on the runway.

'Scouts?' she said to Kara quietly.

'Come on, Theo, let's go down!'

The Commander strode by the group, headed toward the Ops room, and so did yos'Senchul, who flashed excellent progress plans move forward to the lot of them before heading in.

'Ops must be crushed,' Theo said to Kara. They and the rest of the team were waiting while the distant Torvin was attached to a small fleet of tractors and towed toward the shuttle's usual spot.

Now that the spaceship was down, craft were again circling and descending, while several on the flight line were moving slowly toward the live deck for takeoff.

Kara was muttering about dinnertime coming right up and she'd been hoping to get a chance to—

But Theo caught sight of yos'Senchul and the Commander, walking out toward the strip from Ops, carrying on a quick hand-talk.

Certified routing/newest off-limits/warning zones for graduates/direct and secure was the gist of yos'Senchul's communications while the Commander's were more like Noisy obvious unscheduled bad-form non-orbit show-off.

Theo looked away, feeling a bit as if she'd eavesdropped on one of Kamele and Father's private conversations. Likely if she hadn't spent so much time with yos'Senchul she wouldn't have been able to read . . .

'Theo, look, come on, they've got it settled. Let's go see!'

Kara grabbed her by the hand enthusiastically, tugging and not letting go until Theo picked up speed and together they outran most of the team to the orange-chained stanchions.

The ship gleamed in front and overhead, warmth still radiating into the cooling evening, several tiny beacon lights having taken over the duty of the flight lights. Theo could see herself in the fuselage where it bulged to become wings, she could see Kara too, and the Commander and yos'Senchul standing with a small group of seniors dressed with their formals and wings close behind.

'Look at the size of this thing,' a pilot used to Star Kings said, and Theo blurted out, 'This is so tiny! It could fit in a cruise ship ballroom!'

That started a heated discussion, and quotes of cubes and relative engine power and, 'I've sat jump seat on something bigger than this . . .'

Theo basked in the glow of the ship. Yes, this is it. Something like this. She felt as if her pores absorbed the moment and her hands already knew the need to fly such a thing.

The Ops guy came out to the stanchions, comm in his hand, and then opened the gate for the Commander.

'Sorry,' he said, 'the tug crew forgot this is Liaden, so the ground hatch is on the other—'

yos'Senchul waved him away with a salute and hand-sign, leading the small contingent to the proper side of the ship, just as there came a hiss, then a whir that must have been the hatch opening.

The strip-side crowd quieted as the gangway slid almost all the way to the ground, and then there was hand- shaking and bows, all seen on the other side of the ship. Two of the seniors became honor guard to the ship, flanking the gangway. The others fell in behind the Commander and yos'Senchul and the pilot with his rakish hat, as they walked back toward the stanchions.

'Theo—what?' Kara whispered at her, then jammed an elbow into her side.

The man moved like a pilot, after all, that must be it—her stomach though, apparently had another theory.

'Theo?'

She stood very still, watching as the group came through the gate.

'He looks familiar. He kinda walks like a friend of mine,' she managed.

Kara snickered. 'Oh, he does?'

The pilot had been scanning as well as walking and talking with his hosts, she could see that. Suddenly his eyes met hers; he did a dance-step pause, a half-smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he looked at her fully face on.

'Pilot Waitley, my compliments.' This was spoken in a formal measure as he bowed quickly. 'I am extremely pleased to find you here, Theo,' followed in a lower tone, for her ears only, then, loud enough to strike the ears of those crowding behind her, 'I hope to be in touch.'