Bon-Do landed his shuttle at an expensive landing dock on Nar Shaddaa. He breathed deeply, relishing the smell of newness in his ship. He loved new things and expensive things, but most of all, he loved the money needed to buy those things. Now he was going to have to spend more of it, thanks to Rancer. This made Bon-Do very angry and he promised himself that killing Rancer would be one of his higher priorities.

Bon-Do had been commissioned by a third party to secure the cargo of the quocus spaceliner known as Star Rider, specifically a sand stone statue of a human. Apparently the statue held some importance to his employer. It was supposed to be an easy hit; just some dirt lovers relocating. No real weapons and no real pilots either; a real easy job. He had been given a nice chunk of money to do the job too. Then this Rancer fellow comes along with a starfighter and some skill, apparently.

This messed everything up. Bon-Do had to arrange for some mercenary pilots to come along to handle Rancer. This cost Bon-Do even more money. He had been flying an old Corellian Corvette that had been extensively refitted. He had to hire a gunnery crew to fire the ion cannons he had installed. This cost money too. With the money he had gotten up front he had been able to buy his new sleek Imperial shuttle which was in fact all he had at the moment. Now he was out the pilots, his Corellian Corvette and the idiot crew he had hired to help him run it.

The odds had been in his favor. He should have won his prize. In the end though, Rancer had proven more than a match for his assault. But Bon-Do was not worried. The tracking beacons he had put on Rancer’s Y-Wing and the Star Rider would tell him where to go next. Besides, he still had plenty of resources to tap into and this time he would buy more than enough to handle Rancer. Then he could secure his statue and claim his money.

Bon-Do walked out of the shuttle and tossed a tip to the attendant at his launch pad as he walked without fear and with purpose into the streets of Nar Shaddaa.

After the ceremony for John Holden, his corpse, along with the Wookiee’s, had been jettisoned into space. Rancer had the remaining crew split up to begin emergency repairs and assess the situation. He had asked Hassn to escort him to Bon-Do’s quarters. He had asked Hassn for two reasons. The first reason was because he wanted to ask Hassn where he was from. The second reason was if any of the crew were going to kill him it would be Hassn. Rancer wanted to go ahead and try and get on his good side as soon as possible.

Hassn didn’t speak the whole way to Bon-Do’s cabin. So upon arrival at the large quarters of the former owner, Rancer took it upon himself to engage the gray skinned alien in conversation.

"So where are ya from, Hassn?"

The small, lithe creature looked up into Rancer’s eyes for a few seconds. Then replied in a rolling, feline sounding voice. "My planet is destroyed. My people live elsewhere now."

Rancer swallowed hard. "So what do you do . . . I mean, what is your trade?"

Again the creature looked up at Rancer. "I was hired on this ship as a gunner."

Rancer did not seem to be getting the free flowing answers he wanted from this fellow. "Look, I know this is a tough situation and all. I mean, I am the one who nearly killed everybody. Let’s face it though, we’re all gonna have to work together to get this tub running again if we even can. I’m not gonna ask for your fealty or anything, but can I trust you until we part company?"

Hassn looked at Rancer for a very long moment, then replied, "Yes." Rancer weakly smiled. "I guess that will have to do."

As Rancer looked into what must have been the largest sleeping quarters on the ship, he was shocked to find everything very clean, and even new looking. Most pirates were very messy and piecemeal having to run on a fluctuating budget. This looked like a very fancy room, almost gaudy in comparison to the rest of the ship. There were ornate vases, most of which were broken and on the floor, and a very nice looking wooden desk and immense canopy bed. The walls of the room itself seemed to be a large landscape of some planet Rancer had never been to or seen before. The floor was a very plush carpet that almost felt like fur. There were no wall hangings. They would have taken away from the mural effect of the walls. There was, however, a window that looked out the starboard side of the ship.

Rancer walked over to the window to peer out at space. He noticed as he walked through the broken vases that all the furniture was still in place. Stuff must be bolted to the deck, he thought.

As he passed the desk he noticed a small com station on the top of the desk and the middle of the desk was actually a vid screen. "There must be a keyboard hidden away somewhere," Rancer mumbled out loud.

Rancer turned to the window and looked out at the void of space. He wondered where Pate and his bunch had jumped to. Rancer wondered what Kateri was doing right now. Rancer wondered if he would ever see them again. The reality of that thought brought him back to focus.

Rancer sat down in the plush chair behind the desk. Hassn had managed to find a button that released a hidden keyboard. "Thanks, Hassn. Why don’t you go and see if the others need any help? Oh! Tell them to meet back here in about two hours. We can see what kind of a mess we have then."

Hassn turned to face Rancer, made eye contact and nodded, then disappeared out the door. Rancer had just learned two things. One, he was going to be sleeping here tonight and two, this Bon-Do fellow liked very nice things.

Bon-Do walked down Sith Street, on the outskirts of Nar Shaddaa. Nar Shaddaa was a moon of Nal Hutta, the acquired home of the race known as the Hutts. The moon served as a buffer between the outside world and the Hutt planet. All manner of goods, legal and illegal, came through here. Criminals, pirates, and smugglers all thrived here. Mos Eisley was a timid little country town compared to this place.

Bon-Do had made a pleasant living here on the partially developed moon. There was gambling, prostitution, smuggling galore and any other sort of crime that paid well. Bon-Do had grown up here as the offspring of a now dead prostitute. He was doing quite well here. His holdings and financial means had grown steadily since the days when he peddled his mother’s services for ten percent of the cut. He ran three chop shops for spaceships and speeders and was the undisputed trader of spice for three blocks. He also ran several brothels and trading firms on this same block. He strong-armed the two casinos on the block to pay him a nice weekly protection fee. Basically the block was his. All in all he had control of a large amount of resources despite the heavy tribute he had to pay the Hutts. His venture into piracy had been a new enterprise, hoping to spread his name and reputation to other planets. Now, however, things had gotten personal.

Bon-Do felt a little vulnerable walking through town with out his bodyguard. There was a dull brown haze in the air from all the unregulated industry. The neon lights from the exotic clubs, brothels and two bit casinos made the street a blur of flickering colors. The conveyer sidewalks on this street had quit working and probably wouldn’t get fixed for another couple of months. That was the nature of Hutt city management.

Bon-Do knocked on the door of what seemed to be a run down apartment building. A huge ugly Gamorrean opened a small window and asked for a password. Bon-Do, expressionless, gave the word. The Gamorrean opened the door and Bon-Do walked into the brothel that served as his base of operations.

Lively music was floating through the air, with the smells of spice and alien perfumes. He smiled as scantily clad female Twi’leks and human women came to greet him graciously. He did love the universal acceptance money provided for him.

He gave a few of the girls some credits and they lavished him even more with praise and joy at his return. Bon-Do smiled. It was good to be home, he thought.

Kateri was fed up with being brushed off. She had waited two days for an answer from Pate and now she was going to get one! They had been on New Cov for three days now and no one had even tried to make contact with Rancer. Most folks seemed to consider it a calculated loss. Rancer had done what he had been paid for, but Kateri had made Pate promise that he would look into finding out what had happened to Rancer.

She stormed down a three day old path, pushing her way through jungle brush and stepping over roots that made her journey slow and arduous. She could see the form of the Star Rider through the trees ahead. Pate had been using it as the colony’s headquarters and storage facility.

As she approached, the perimeter guard watched her. It was just Tondras Yinger, so she was not worried. She walked up to the gangway and into the ship. She met Ran Lonna, Sara’s father, as she marched up the ship’s main passage. Ran smiled as she approached but quickly looked away as soon as he saw the ire in her eyes. She reached the bridge where Pate could usually be found.

There were two other people with Pate. They appeared to be discussing the progress that Kehller was making clearing the jungle away for their projected housing site. Kateri cleared her throat politely and waited for a break in their conversation. Pate looked up briefly with a tired expression and returned to his planning group. Kateri busied herself studying the plans and maps that had been laid all about the place. At the rate Kehller and the others were clearing the jungle, most of the area for the houses and buildings should be ready within a few days. Soon they would begin clearing for the fields. They had already selected a wonderful variety of exotic vegetables and plants to grow. They would certainly bring big profits with Huff Darklighter’s help in shipping and trading. The colony seemed to be coming right along.

"Yes, Kateri?" came Pates weary voice. Pate’s companions were on their way out.

"Oh! I’m sorry to disturb you, Pate. I just wanted to know if you had contacted Rancer yet?" Pate sighed again, something he had done a lot of in the past three days. "I have sent an E-mail to him which is the only way I know how to get in touch with him. I have also told Huff to be on the look out for him. As soon as we hear anything at all we will let you know."

Kateri suddenly felt her gut seize up inside her. Anger leapt into her heart. "That is what they said about my husband, you bastard! I will not let another good man be forgotten like so much sand!" Tears began to trickle down Kateri’s cheeks.

She turned her head from Pate in shock of what she had just said. Pate just stood there, not knowing what he had said and not knowing what to do. "Kateri, I am sorry about your husband. I didn’t realize this was so similar a situation . . ."

Kateri made one big sniff and immediately composed herself. "I am sorry you had to be subject to that outburst, Pate. I just need to make sure he is at least remembered for his service to us."

Pate felt rather crass and had to admit that he had helped them get here and he had held up his end of the deal completely. "You are right, Kateri, he does need to be remembered for helping us. But we can’t give up on him yet. From what I hear he is a pretty tough guy and a real survivor. I’m not ready to have a memorial service until I hear one way or the other. Okay?"

Kateri shrugged, feeling a little bit better after her release. "You’re right, Pate. I’ll keep waiting." Pate smiled, feeling a little relieved that the confrontation seemed to be over. "So how is the kitchen coming?"

Kateri knew he was trying to change the subject. "Oh, it’s coming along just fine. We are able to accommodate everyone and in a pretty timely manner, too. We should have enough provisions to operate this way for at least another six months. But at the rate we’re building, I doubt we will have too. Everyone should be in their own dwellings soon."

Pate smiled. "I’m impressed, Kateri, you are really on top of things. I knew I picked the right person to coordinate the mess. You seem to be on top of our construction progress as well."

Kateri was getting bored with the condescending conversation. She knew Pate was not used to working with women, but sometimes he was just a little ridiculous. "Well, my brother is head of the construction team. I can’t help but to hear about it. Look, I really need to get back to work. I am sorry about my outburst. I just can’t tolerate people being so pragmatic about someone’s death, especially someone who may very well have died for them."

Pate sighed again. "I understand, Kateri". Pate didn’t think it would be a good idea to mention that Rancer had been paid to protect them. He also didn’t think it would be a good idea to mention that they had already made plans for the five hundred credits he hadn’t collected yet. Pate was glad Rancer had come along but he didn’t have time to mourn the loss of a mercenary.

Bon-Do stretched languidly in his plush office chair. His underlings were patiently waiting outside. He was about to put out a call to gather a very effective strike team, a small group of mercenaries to find and retrieve the statue. They would be given the location of the colony and sufficient payment upon their return with the statue. He was also going to call in a favor with a certain bounty hunter just to make sure Rancer didn’t interfere any more. Bon-Do hit a button on his desk and the door to his office slid open. His three most trusted associates slowly walked inside.

"Helloo my frienndss!" he said, grinning with his pointed teeth. "Pleasse sit downn, we have much to discuss. Wee havve much worrk ahead of uss."

Rancer eased back in Bon-Do’s desk chair and was impressed at how comfortable it was. He powered up the console in front of him and began to peruse the contents of Bon-Do’s personal files. As he scrolled through the list of subjects the computer had produced, he began to relax. The chair warmed, enticing the tenseness out of Rancer’s muscles. Slowly and imperceptibly, the chair began to massage his back and legs.

Rancer found several entries about Pates group and a statue they were carrying. It seemed that someone had paid Bon-Do to get the statue. Pates group didn’t seem like the statue toting type though.

Rancer’s eyes began to get heavy. He was glad he had eaten before this or he would be suffering from some real fatigue. It had been almost fifteen hours now since Rancer had slept.

There were some entries about meeting some mercenary pilots that were supposed to handle "the escort problem". A roster of goods that were not on the official manifest. A brief dossier on each of the crew members. Rancer jumped in his seat as he caught him self falling asleep.

Man, this chair is really comfortable and I need some rest. He flipped through the computer files some more and was able to get the ship name and registry. Apparently this was the good ship Black Jack, and it looked like it had changed hands several times. At the moment it was registered to a casino on Nar Shaddaa.

Nar Shaddaa, thought Rancer. That was the industrial moon that orbited the Hutt planet. Hutt’s could easily put something like this together. But they were usually more effective, or at least that’s what he had heard.

Rancer rubbed his face with his hands and leaned back in the chair. For just a moment he thought he smelled fresh bread. Kateri came to his mind; her full red hair and strong eyes. Then he imagined he and Kateri on a beach; he could almost hear the waves crashing down on the surf. He stretched, feeling very relaxed and closed his eyes for just a second . . .

EZ1, the combination clerical droid and comfort couch, was satisfied with its work today. Its new occupant was as comfortable as his biorhythms suggested he could be. The new occupant seemed to be sleeping as many biologicals do. EZ1 had analyzed his stress level and applied just the right amount of heat to his thermal adjusters to make his occupant optimally comfortable, then he gradually began the massage cycle so as not to disturb his occupants work and ease his weariness. He followed this with fragrances that the medical scans suggested would be pleasing and relaxing to his new occupant. The fragrances had slowly been added to the surrounding air so as not to be immediately noticed. EZ1 had also began a very faint oceanic musical selection that would reach the occupant on a sub conscious level and encourage him to relax.

This biological was new to his records so he had much medical data and pattern recording to do before he could specialize his services for this new master. EZ1 realized he would have to brief his new master on all of his capabilities, including his repulsor lifts and full clerical functions. EZ1 predicted that his new master would be very pleased with all the services he could provide. But of course he would wait until his master had rested.

Ryske, Fepu, and Tansk all stood in Bon-Do’s old quarters, looking at the odd figure sitting at his desk. Rancer was smiling and snoring up a storm, right in the chair he had sat in more than two hours ago. The smell of fresh bread slipped through everyone’s nose, causing them to look around for its source.

"Hey, we’ve got him! We could take the ship for ourselves now!" said Ryske.

"Uh . . . and then what?" said Tansk.

"Well, we could fix the ship and use it ourselves." Smiling, Fepu added, "And we could use the ship to do what?"

Ryske, realizing that the rest of the crew was not very enthusiastic about his plan, sighed, "I don’t know! Run cargo or something."

Fepu chuckled. "Look Ryske, we’d all like to be independent and make lots of money. But I tell ya the truth, collectively we have about three days worth of experience piloting a ship this size. Sure I know a good bit about drive systems and Tansk knows computers pretty good and you are pretty good with the communication systems, but we don’t even know where to get fuel, much less pay for it."

Ryske began to grumble. "You guys have no sense of adventure! This could be an opportunity of a life time."

Tansk rolled his eyes. "What you are talking about is a one way trip to trouble. This ship didn’t start out as ours and I don’t think any of us are in any shape to change that right now."

Ryske sighed in defeat. "Okay. But I’ll have my own ship someday. You just wait and see." Ryske enlarged his eyes and put a blank stare on his face so that he resembled a man transfixed on something. "I will have one. Oh, yes I will."

The others laughed along with Ryske and turned to their still sleeping commander, as Hassn appeared from down the hall.

The laughter ended abruptly and all eyes focused on the small killing machine. Hassn was getting used to this reaction. But it still troubled him somewhat. "Please assess the situation," Hassn said in an even purring tone.

"Right!" said Ryske, with a chipper tone. "Well, our fearless leader is still napping and we have not decided who is going to wake him up."

Hassn peered into the room and grinned. "He is weary, but our information is important. We must wake him."

Ryske rolled his eyes. "Duh! So who is the lucky guy going to be." No one stepped forward, eager to rouse the man who had nearly killed them all just a few hours ago. Suddenly, without warning, Hassn moved into the room. The others gasped slightly and watched.

Hassn walked smoothly up to the desk and spoke "Rancer." His hail was answered by a particularly loud snore. The others chuckled from behind Hassn. He still hadn’t figured out what these young humans found so amusing about bodily functions. Hassn spoke again, louder this time. "RANCER!"

The previously dreaming Rancer looked around groggily and then focused on Hassn about two feet from him. Hassn smiled, revealing several of his larger teeth and Rancer nearly jumped through the chair. The look of stark terror filled Rancer’s eyes for just a split second and was then replaced with a look of cold calculation. Hassn quickly stepped back seeing that his task had been achieved and walked over to the rest of the group.

"Ahhemm. So, uh . . . are the reports ready?" said Rancer, unsure of how to deal with the new situation.

Ryske jumped in immediately. "Yes, Sir. Internal com systems through the ship have minor damage. Most of it can be repaired in a day or two. However there is extensive damage to all external com systems, as well as the nav computer, targeting system and sensor suite on the bridge. These repairs will take another two or three days, provided we have access to the necessary areas." Ryske stepped back and saluted crisply.

Tansk glared at his brown nosing counterpart and stepped forward. "All computer systems are operable but a few are still off line. It shouldn’t take me long to get them back on line. The pounding just shook things up a bit. But we are going to have bigger problems up on the bridge. The access consoles up there are pretty well smashed up and a few of the cores need to be copied to back up systems because they look like they are about to fail. With some help from Ryske we can probably get the nav computer back on line and the sensor suite. But the targeting computer was linked to the ion cannons. It is in pretty good shape on the bridge end, but the parts in the ion cannons that got destroyed are slagged. All in all, I’ll need at least three days to get the major systems going and another couple of days to fine tune the peripherals." Tansk stepped back and looked around, not knowing what to do next.

Fepu stepped up and smiled. "Good news, Sir. Your assault managed to miss the drive systems for the most part. The engines are in great shape and running fine. We have enough fuel to last for about six months. Once again, there is the same problem at the bridge. Most of the navigational and maneuvering equipment has been heavily damaged and getting it to respond will be the greatest challenge. All the repulsors are working, along with stabilizers and thrusters. We just need to regain control of them. We will be hyperdrive capable as soon as the systems are restored. I have checked the drive and it is in good shape. I estimate, with everyone’s help, a good three days worth of work ahead of us in the engine department." Fepu nodded at Rancer and stepped back into the huddle of people.

Hassn looked at the other crew members and then at Rancer. Hassn stepped forward and bowed toward Rancer. "Our consumables are at fifty percent, which gives us about six months of food and life support. The weapons are all destroyed, except for two missile racks which are empty, and the three remaining ion cannons. The hull seems to be in good shape throughout the ship, with the exception of the area preceding the bridge. There is a minor hull breach that has been contained with airlock doors, just aft of the bridge. The breach will need to be patched and pressure restored in order for repairs to be conducted. The shield systems are operative but not at full capacity. Regeneration rate is considerably slower than should be expected. The shields are presently at full capacity and holding." Hassn bowed swiftly and stepped back. The small band looked at Rancer with anticipation.

"Well, sounds like we have a couple of days worth of work a head of us." Rancer sighed and pulled himself from the chair, which took more effort than he expected.

"As you guys can see I am pretty tired myself. When was the last time you guys slept?" The crew looked at each other again and Ryske spoke up. "It’s been about seven hours since we all woke up."

Rancer nodded. "Okay, I’m gonna sleep four the next six hours. You guys can do whatever you like during that time. Sleep, eat, do repairs, clean up the ship; whatever turns you on. When I wake up, let’s be ready to get to work. Okay?" The group nodded their agreement.

"Now, we need to go over some basic rules here on the ship. I am captain. Not admiral or general or his highness or anything other than Captain or Rancer. Mr. Muldoon will do if you feel the need for formality, but I warn you, it will bug the shit out of me eventually. Now I know you guys have plans or are making some plans for the rest of your lives and I hope to help you get on with those plans as soon as possible. The first step in getting that done is getting this ship moving. I’m gonna help as much as I can, because I want this ship. Now if any of you guys don’t have any plans, once we get the ship back in order, I have a few jobs in mind to make some fundage. If you guys can stomach me, I’ll see about hiring you on with some kind of contract. But right now, our priority is getting this ship moving. I don’t want Bon-Do to return and find us sitting here for the slaughter. I have a good idea where to go once we get this baby moving, and I think I can get some fuel and other repairs done too. So a port where you guys can be dropped off is just around the corner. Okay, that’s my speech. Any questions?"

The guys looked at each other and Ryske spoke up again. "Are we going to take shifts?"

Rancer grimaced. "Good point. That is a real problem with such a small crew. Yeah, we’ll have to work something out so we can monitor the systems around the clock. But for now, just work and then sleep when you see fit. I’ll put together a schedule later. I’m sure this desk has a printer in it somewhere."

Rancer looked around and saw that there were no more questions. "Oh, one last thing. Lets get a manifest for this ship as soon as we can. I want to know what we have on board to trade so we can muster some cash for major repairs."

Ryske looked up again. "I’ll take care of that. Some of the cargo is not logged on the actual manifest. I think I can round it all up though."

The crew stood there not knowing what to do next, and finally Rancer sighed. "Dismissed?"

The guys all shuffled off, discussing plans for repairs and what they might do after this. Rancer leaned back in the chair, again thinking many of the same thoughts but then decided he would get up. The chair seemed to have bested him last time and he didn’t want to give it another chance so soon.

EZ1 saw this as his opportunity. His new master’s meeting seemed to be over and he was eager to help him with the schedule he had mentioned.

"Greetings Master. I trust you rested well?"

Rancer spun around, pulling his blaster in the same motion. He scanned in the direction of the sound, looking for a target. All he saw was the desk, the chair and the window.

"I hope I did not alarm you, Sir."

It came from the chair! The damn thing was talking! Rancer cleared his throat. "Ahem . . . are you talking to me?"

EZ1 was glad to finally have his new master’s attention "Yes Sir. I am EZ1, combination clerical droid and comfort couch. I took the liberty of making your rest as comfortable as possible. Was it to your liking?"

Rancer was a little bit confused. "You mean you made the chair more comfortable?"

EZ1 realized his new master was not aware of his capabilities. "Yes Sir. I produced heat through the chair’s membrane and initiated a massage cycle, combined with some light aromatherapy and musical relaxation pieces. I hoped they were to your liking?"

Rancer chuckled "Yeah, it was very nice. Is that all?"

"Oh no Sir. I am programmed to serve as your secretary and personal adjunct. I am fully programmed to perform all clerical tasks. Is there anything I can do for you Sir?"

Rancer was genuinely happy. "Yes, there is. Put together a list of our crew compliment, including me. Create a schedule for around the clock shifts, with the shifts overlapping as much as possible, but make sure that everyone gets at least ten hours off each standard day, and put in hour breaks for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Create a list of all cargo on the ship and print it out along with its estimated value. Be sure and include a total with that list. Generate a report listing all of your current accessible resources and include with that any possible upgrades that are available for yourself and a detailed list of your capabilities. I’m going to sleep now. Can you guard the room?"

A few lights blinked on the chair. "I am programmed to prevent anyone from disturbing you at your request. Is that your request?"

Rancer sighed. "No one is to bother me unless they say it is an emergency. If anyone has an emergency, wake me up before you let them in, then I will tell you if they can come in. Is that understood?"

The chair rotated on its post and the sound of a repulsor lifted hummed. The chair rose off of its platform and floated over to the door. "My instructions are understood, Sir. Rest well."

Rancer watched the chair with amazement. This is really cool, he thought. "Oh yeah, is the bed a droid too?"

The chair rotated to face him. "No Sir, it is only a gelatinous filled Comfort 2000 with the complete thermal, audio and massage packages. Would you like me to initiate any of the programs?"

Rancer quickly replied, "No! It’s just fine the way it is." Rancer lay down on the bed, hoping to return to his dreams of a certain red head and a beach.

Kateri wiped the tears from her face. I shouldn’t be crying, she thought. I have a wonderful brother, who is practically second in charge of this whole operation. I am in charge of running the colony’s mess and it is doing better than expected. Most of the people under and over me are very pleased with my performance. The colony is coming along well and ahead of schedule. She sniffed again and more tears welled up inside of her face, as the pain of being alone wracked through her body again. The pain of love lost and no honor paid it. She had loved her husband completely. They had been happy.

The Empire had killed him and their love and no one cared. The beauty of their relationship was so much blown sand. The power that they brought each other had been crushed by the boot of a drunken Stormtrooper. No one cared! No one tried to do anything! They just let a beautiful man die without so much as a second glance. He had done so much, was worth so much, and they just ignored his passing.

More tears rolled down her face. Her body rocked with sobs. Why was it happening all over again? How could it happen all over again? Why did Rancer have to die in vain? Why couldn’t people see his sacrifice? No one will recognize the love he gave or could have given.

She really didn’t want to think about this right now. But she had hidden by running the farm on Tatooine and now was trying to hide by running the mess. For some reason, it wasn’t working this time. She just couldn’t keep the images of her husband away. She could see his face, how he looked when he walked through the door after a long day in the desert. The smile on his face when he saw her. The joy in his eyes when he played with Rita. The unyielding devotion to her and Rita that kept him in the desert for exhausting hour after exhausting hour.

Before too long, memories came flooding back. She relived their wedding and their honeymoon. Their first days in their new home. The day she found out she was pregnant. The day Rita was born. Their first big crop. Rita’s first words. Their fifth anniversary. It all seemed so recent, so tangible.

She realized she had dug her fingers into the moist dirt where she was sitting. She released her grip upon the planet and relaxed her whole body in the same instant.

She felt much better now. She could breath easier. Her tears stopped flowing. She felt as if she had been let out of a cage or someone had cut some invisible bonds that had been holding her down. Their relationship had been a beautiful thing, something that should be celebrated and spoken of with joy and fond remembrance. From now on, that was what she was going to do.

Kateri looked at her hands and chuckled. She gently rolled the leaf that had stuck to one of her sweating palms over. She was going to start a new life on a new planet and she was going to be new as well. She couldn’t wait to get things going. She needed something to do. She needed someone to talk to. She wasn’t looking to hide from her misery now. She wanted to share some enthusiasm. She wished just for a second that Rancer were here so she could talk to him.

Then sadness fell upon her again. He had been wasted too. He deserved to be remembered. Not in some solemn ceremony or with some paltry words, his life needed to be celebrated and his sacrifice needed to be honored. Pate said that a memorial service was in order. No reason why she could not plan the service and there was no reason why it couldn’t be for more than just Rancer. It could be a farewell for Rancer Muldoon, her husband and her old way of life. It would also be an occasion for everyone to celebrate the beginning of their new lives. For her, it would mark the beginning of a new life and a new way of living.

She now realized that she loved life. She also realized the value of life was most precious and she intended to live hers to the fullest.

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