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I hope," Jasmine King sighed, "that you've had a day more productive than mine."

"What was the matter?" Grok inquired, as he poured them each an after-work cocktail. Grok had become partial to Earth cognac, and King drank some awful combination of liqueurs called a Veronica's Revenge that did a great deal to encourage the belief that she was an android—no normal stomach could have handled the drink.

"I was lazy, and spent the day being a sentimental slob," she said.

"Ah?"

"Chasing down our former compatriots and hoping they were all well and happy."

"I confess," Grok said, "to a slobbish, almost human tendency these days to mawkishness… and curiosity, as well."

"M'chel is currently the favorite of the fast set on Trimalchio," Jasmine said. "Everyone famous wants her to play bodyguard for them. Freddie is being a little high profile, on some gambling world, with his own gaming tournament."

"I assume it's rigged," Grok said.

"I hope so," King said. "But nobody said."

"What about our pet delinquent?"

"I couldn't find a trace of Charles, although there was a jewelry store robbery on one of the Fringe Worlds that sounded like his work.

"I dropped a line with a couple of recruiters that said they heard from him now and again. I left a note with the other two that we're glad they're going well, and if they're in the area, to please visit."

King shrugged.

"I guess I can't seem to let the past go. Tell me about your day, and that we made some money."

"We did—and I, too, encountered a bit of the past."

King lifted an eyebrow, and Grok explained:

"I shall probably be long-winded about this.

"A contact of ours told me, a couple of weeks ago, about a system—eight planets, plus asteroids just outside the system.

"The name of the system is Alsaoud, which had been inhabited by humans for about three hundred fifty years, originally colonized, grudgingly, by two systems who'd fought over who had the rights.

"For some reason the Alliance, usually so reluctant to get involved in anything that might involve danger, had brokered a peace, which required that both systems settle Alsaoud.

"Both wanting to make very sure Alsaoud wouldn't do anything absurd, such as develop delusions of independence, crippled the system with a government that required a premier from one system, and a prime minister from the other, and a parliament to boot.

"Then both systems had promptly lost interest, leaving Alsaoud with the muddle.

"Time passed, and Alsaoud's second and fourth world became heavily settled, and the third, riven by volcanoes, more sparsely.

"Life was further complicated when a third group, running from a sun going nova, decided to move in. The only major, somewhat habitable real estate that wasn't now occupied was the fifth and sixth worlds, and these refugees, who called themselves only the People, occupied them.

"They've recently started settling on the capital world itself," Grok went on. "Since their birth rate is about double that of their fellows, that's making the original settlers a bit nervous.

"But their main settlement is in the asteroids, which has a cornucopia of easily exploited minerals, and so they built bubble settlements and such."

"This sounds," Jasmine King said, touching a tongue to her lips, "like a situation made for a nice, profitable war."

"Actually, several internecine sagas of butchery over the years," Grok said. "Not to mention things like smuggling, piracy, and general mopery—enough of a problem so the Alliance has actually sent in finger-waggling expeditions from time to time."

"A problem, indeed."

"Now, my contact told me, they seem to be getting ready for another round, with special bloodlust for going after the People—and the People reciprocating.

"I approached the Alsaoud government, and found they were in the market for deep-space mines, which I just happen to have access to. They were mightily thrilled at my help, and allowed as how they were in the market for almost any sort of weaponry that might work against what they rather colorfully called 'space bandits.' "

"You did have a good day," Jasmine said. "I just might buy you dinner tonight."

"I haven't reached my point of interest yet," Grok said. "One of the people I was speaking to happened to say there are several mercenary outfits and freelancers swarming around the system.

"One of which is Cerberus Systems, which currently seems to have the inner track with the newly elected government."

Jasmine licked her lips thoughtfully.

"How nice for them," she said. "Is there any way we can somehow ruin a good percentage of their day? As I said, I'm a sentimentalist, and I definitely bear a grudge."

"I don't know," Grok said. "Further of interest, however, since this isn't the richest system known, is that I haven't been able to see how they can pay for Cerberus, given their usual fees."

"So something stinky is going on, eh?"

"It might be."

"I wonder if there's anything there for us?"

"I don't know," Grok said. "But, remember, we've agreed to, as Goodnight said, 'take our lumps' and go our way, and let them go theirs.

"They are a great deal bigger, as we've discovered."

"Bigger," King agreed. "But not necessarily nastier. Oh well. It might be nice to have another shot at them. One that we win, this time.

"But bygones are bygones, and big bullies are big bullies, who generally seem to get away with their bullying.

"Damnit."