She took a breath, finally realizing she'd been holding it. Win Ton. Win Ton! Oh, what could be—
It is of utmost importance, my favorite dancer, that we meet together in person in the shortest possible time. I am prepared to meet you at any location you name, at Volmer if you like, to rendezvous on planet or station, to provide tickets for transportation from your current location to mine. Only tell me as soon as you may, I humbly beg of you, that you have received this message in good order and that you intend to be in touch with me in person, who gave you your first bowli ball. As friend and as pilot I swear that this is a necessary interruption of your life, and one that will not be forgotten.
There were so many hooks here, so many memories for someone she'd only spent a few days with, and a night.
I am and remain your friend and servant,
Win Ton yo'Vala
There followed a series of addresses she might reply to, starting with the autoreply and progressing four deep into what looked like port drop boxes in places he might expect to get to, including Solcintra, Liad.
She reread the message, from her own key, once it disappeared from the screen, and recalled that she still had copies of every message he'd ever sent.
She sighed, stood, stared at the empty screen. Maybe she could arrange to meet him at their next port, or something. She should answer him, quickly. Soon.
Yes, she should.
She danced a step to unkink her shoulder, and thoughtfully returned to Primadonna.
She felt that her arrival on-board had interrupted something. Tranza and Mayko lounged in the galley, hands moving energetically. She was good, but these two threw hand-signs fast as Jump, partial thoughts flying and being cut off by others, shared experience telling in the jabs and spikes of the motions, in the words left out.
Prominent in the first sighting had been Theo and also pilot today now; but as soon as she was evident Tranza folded his hands and lapsed into a sweetly sung song of conquest and pillage.
Mayko glared at him, and nodded to her.
"The pilot returns to us, sooner rather than later, which is always good in a pilot on port. As you are present, we shall move on to topics left off in midflight."
Theo nodded, pleased that Mayko hadn't asked about her message, and grabbed one of the trayful of landing-pastries on the table.
"We were discussing, right," Tranza broke in, "we were discussing the flight. A fine flight."
Mayko sniffed. She stood, smooth and graceful, deliberately turning away from Tranza, and giving Theo an easy nod.
"As Rig says, we were discussing the flight. It appears that Aito was correct, and despite your run-ins with academic authority in the past, you are exactly the kind of pilot that Hugglelans—especially Hugglelans Galactic—wishes to employ. I would like to insure that we are of a mind on this, and so I ask if you might, now that we are at Volmer, open your contract and sign it."
Win Ton. Somehow Theo kept seeing Win Ton's name on the screen and recalled his name as written on the card she'd gotten on Vashtara.
"I haven't read it yet," she said. "If I might have a few moments to look it over?"
Mayko smiled prettily. "It's our standard. We can sign it right now, then move on to—"
"No. Right? No."
Tranza stood, making himself the third point in the triangle of pilots.
"I beg your pardon," began Mayko.
"Beg Theo's, right? You're doing it again. Trying to make the second Jump before the first."
Mayko straightened, mouth firming.
"All we need to do is settle the issue of a contract," she said, with what Theo thought was strained patience. "Once that is taken care of, we can . . ."
"Wait, right? Just wait."
Tranza broke from the triangle and dashed to his quarters. He slapped the door open, exclaiming, "Right, just wait!"
Mayko appeared as startled as Theo felt, especially when he backed out of the room a moment later, his pilot's jacket in his hand, gripped at the collar like he had an invisible pilot hard around the throat.
He shook the jacket at his boss, a hand flourish saying now now now first.
"This is what we're discussing first, Mayko. Her jacket."
Theo cast glances between the two.
"Rig, that's your jacket," Mayko said finally, with a sigh.
Tranza stared at her for a moment, began to sign, realized he needed two hands for what he wanted to say, and handed the jacket to Theo in a rush.
"Hold this," he said, and his hands flew into a rage of strenuous argument, reminding Theo forcefully of Captain Cho's assertion that hand-talk was good for many things, even philosophy.
Tranza's jacket, beat-up as it was, felt remarkably good in her hands, and heavier than she'd expected—but then he was a much larger person than she was.
The hand-signs were even faster than they had been when she walked in, and now punctuated in a way only hand-talk allowed. Sneak. Steal. Hide. Wrong. My ship. My students. Know better.
Tranza turned to Theo as if she had no inkling of what he'd just said.
"While you were away, me and Mayko were discussing that in fact without additional review, right, with no more testing needed, right, that you have been seen by this master pilot here, this Mayko Ikari, who I taught, to fly at first class level, which fact I have seen with my own eyes lo these months, right?"
It came to her that Tranza was angry. Theo raised her hands, fingers wide, and nodded, not sure what to say.
"I have my contracts to think of, Rig," Mayko said sternly.
"You want Hugglelans to have all the best pilots tied to you since Korval's got trouble. Business is business. Right. I see that. But you're a Master. You got duty on both screens. And you can't keep information away from her!"
He raised his hands toward the ship's ceiling, fluttered this thought is mine and started speaking, low and earnest.
"I have a contract, Mayko, and mine don't need to be signed. If you want Theo Waitley to sign a first class contract, give her what she's earned. A jacket. The raise. The respect."
Mayko sighed, loudly.
"Rig, we're renegotiating all the contracts. Galactic needs—"
"Will you," he interrupted, forcefully. "Will you tell Theo Waitley she's made first class and earned a jacket? Will you tell her that, Master Ikari?"
"When she signs the contract she'll be able to requisition a jacket, just like any first class . . ."
Tranza went suddenly and completely quiet. Theo looked at him worriedly. He stood entirely still for two long heartbeats, then extended his hand. She realized with a start that he was asking for the jacket, and handed it over. He stretched it in front of himself, shook it, opened it, did a dance move—
And hung the jacket around Theo's shoulders, firmly, like it was a cape. The inside was cool, the jacket long on her.
"The jacket fits, Pilot. Welcome."
He squeezed her shoulder and stepped back, hands enjoining her to wear healthy long proud.
Mayko's fingers were against her lips, a look of what might be horror on her face.
"Rig, you can't just give your jacket away!"
He turned on her with startling swiftness.
"I precertified your jacket, Mayko, and you still wear it. A pilot can give his jacket to a pilot. Theo's a pilot. She's got a jacket."
"Tranza, calm please," Theo said, genuinely alarmed. "I can't—"