Lana hesitantly grabbed his elbow, feeling self-conscious. Jorroc chuckled. “Always the gentleman, huh Thorne?”
The captain smiled, looking a bit self-conscious. “Shall we?” He apparently meant go, because he started to lead her back towards the group.
The introductions were mostly a blur, prominent artisans and businessmen in the community as well as their families. Lana did her best to talk to them, awkward at not knowing what to say, although she felt more comfortable when Dax managed to get free of the swarming kids to join her.
At which point, as if the young man's friendship with her made her an honorable friend too, the children lost their shyness and gathered around her as well. She wasn't sure what to say or do with young people, but luckily they solved that by inviting her to play a game called “tag”, which apparently just meant running around screaming while either trying to catch someone or avoid being caught.
That was easy enough, with her longer legs, although people looked at her oddly when she screamed gleefully like the younger people, so she quickly stopped. She also figured out pretty quickly that she wasn't supposed to take advantage of her size to easily catch kids when she was “it”, especially when Dax gave her a look as if she was missing the point of the game.
The young man never quite ran fast enough that it wasn't fair to the kids, and Lana remembered Barix's previous discussion with Aiden about letting people win so they didn't get frustrated. So she slowed down, too.
Eventually, that wasn't by choice; before long she was panting, legs rubbery and sweat streaming down her face from the blazing late afternoon sun, and moving so slowly that even the toddlers could catch her and throw their pudgy little arms around her legs with happy shrieks. To her surprise the children didn't seem to be getting tired at all, and weren't shy about using their boundless energy to their advantage, then bragging about how much faster they were when they caught her, or she couldn't catch them.
Lana wondered if they'd forgotten how easily she'd done the same when she wasn't exhausted, and did her best not to get annoyed. Luckily at that point some of the older girls took pity on her and invited her to join them sitting in a circle on the soft grass, tying flowers together to make circlets and braiding each other's hair. Lana was a bit embarrassed when they all clamored to work on her reddish-blond tresses, loudly gushing over how pretty her hair, and she, was.
That devolved into something called a “makeover”, and she found herself seated in the middle of the circle while the girls all fussed to make her look as pretty as possible. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when, just as they were about to drag her off to the house of one of the wealthier girls to find her some cute clothes and apply some makeup, Aiden called her name.
“We can do more socializing over dinner,” he announced. He and Jorroc had gathered up Dax and Ali, as well as a couple dozen colonists, and with the two men in the lead, they all started back towards the ship, businesslike and purposeful.
“Want us to give your ship the usual treatment while you're here?” Jorroc asked as they approached the ramp. He was eyeing the Last Stand's slapdash, hastily painted exterior with a rueful expression.
Aiden chuckled. “If you would, since we did leave a Deek crew behind on the Fleetfoot who might identify us. And nobody beats my prized lady with the ugly stick the way you do.”
Lana gave them both confused looks. “What are you talking about?”
“Our profile,” the captain replied, waving towards the hull nearest them with its sloppily installed metal plating. “We spoof our transponder to provide different names and registries for the Last Stand when we're visiting stations and planets, but that's only half the job. A computer can identify a ship pretty easily by its exact appearance on sensors, and they can do it from fairly far away. Thankfully that isn't too hard to get around by slapping on a bit of hull plating here, taking some off there, and adding and removing some major distinctive features.”
“It's good machining practice for the kids,” Jorroc added, weathered face crinkling with a broad smile. “Mistakes don't really matter, since they just disrupt the profile even more. And Thorne is usually good enough to provide us with the scrap we need for the project.” He paused, turning back to Aiden. “Speaking of which . . .”
The captain chuckled wryly. “Yeah, we've got a present for you in the bay, from a pirate skiff stupid enough to attack us a few days back.” He shifted apologetically. “We salvaged what we could, but, ah, the gunner managed to touch off one of the nukes they were carrying and ripped them to pieces.”
“Uncharacteristic of him,” the old man murmured. “Well, let's see what you've got for us.”
Aiden led the way up the ramp, everyone else crowding to follow. Lana was up near the front, and was able to see the expression on Jorroc's face as he silently looked around the cargo bay, whose contents seemed even more junky and worthless in the sunlight streaming up the ramp. “You always give the nicest gifts,” he finally said wryly.
The captain chuckled. “See, this is exactly why I prefer to give money.” He reached into a pocket of his uniform and pulled out a thin card, similar to a chit but larger and fancier. “Here. Anonymous account opened through a secondary source. Should be safe, and provide enough to get you through this rough patch.”
The old man reluctantly accepted the card, and Lana was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You're a good man.”
Aiden glanced towards Lana, clearly embarrassed, and laughed uncomfortably. “You're probably the only
