Shield's Lady

one of the Prime Families in the social class. The relationship was usually extremely distant if it existed at all. “As a matter of fact, I have. I have worked for the Avylyns in Serendipity for the past year “
    The man’s eyes widened in astonished pleasure. “By the Lightstorm! No wonder you picked out this buckle. You have been well trained. I will let you have it for a fraction of its true value. Clan discount, of course.”
    “That’s very kind of you, but I’m really not certain I want the buckle,” Sariana said quickly. “I was just admiring it.”
    “Please,” the vendor begged. “I want you to have it. It’s you, my lady.”
    “Me? But it’s a man’s buckle...”
    The man dismissed that with an extravagant wave of his hand. “It was made for you to give to a man. A husband, perhaps? A father? A brother? A lover? Who knows? It will be the perfect gift for some man who is important to you.”
    “I’m sure I couldn’t possibly afford it, even with a clan discount. It’s too beautifully made.”
    “Nonsense,” the vendor said briskly, rubbing his hands. “I feel certain we can come to some agreement on the matter of price.”
    A few minutes later, Sariana, who had only been toying with the idea of buying the buckle, walked away from the booth with a package.
    She was still wondering how a sophisticated businesswoman such as herself had gotten talked into buying something she really didn’t need when she found herself passing a theater tent. It was the picture on the poster outside that drew her attention. The play that was about to be performed was a torrid bit of romantic adventure set in First Generation days. The story involved the Pact made between the Shields and the colonists.
    Unable to resist finding out more about the western legend with which she had unwittingly become involved, Sariana let herself be caught up in the crowd pouring into the little theater. She wound up sitting next to a small boy named Keri who was obviously a great fan of First Generation tales. He had a krellcat draped over one shoulder. Keri took delight in telling Sariana what was going to happen onstage.
    “How many times have you seen this play?” Sariana asked just as the play began.
    “Five times this week,” he whispered back proudly. “Look,” he told her as the curtain rose, “the First Generation people are on board the ship. The explosions that nearly wrecked The Serendipity have just taken place. See all the blood and stuff?”
    “Yes,” Sariana said, surveying the realistic props. “I can see all the blood.” With typical western theatrical abandon the stage was littered with a lot of red sauce and imitation body parts.
    “Pretty soon the fire will break out,” Keri went on importantly. Someone in the row behind him shushed him. He lowered his voice but he didn’t stop talking. “Everybody thinks they’re going to die.”
    Pandemonium reigned onstage as the embattled starship fought for its life. In spite of herself, Sariana got a lump in her throat. This part of the legend was not too different from the story in the surviving records of the First Generation of The Rendezvous. It didn’t take much imagination to conjure up the panic and despair that had gripped the people aboard the ships. They had come so far and were so very near their destination and now they were threatened with annihilation.
    “This is where The Serendipity loses track of The Rendezvous and everyone assumes The Rendezvous is destroyed,” Keri said excitedly. Again he was shushed from the back row.
    “Now what’s happening?” Sariana asked in genuine confusion as a great light flashed on stage. It blinded both the audience and the actors for a few seconds.
    “The Lightstorm,” Keri explained in enthusiastic horror. “It’s attacking the ship and everyone is going to die.”
    “What Lightstorm?”
    “The one caused by the crystal ships,” Keri whispered. “Don’t you know anything?”
    “There are times lately when I’ve wondered about that.”
    Bit by bit, with Keri’s help, Sariana managed to put the tale together. According to the legend, The Serendipity had dealt with more than an explosion on board. She had also been faced with an indescribable storm of light that had deadened every piece of equipment on the ship. Unlike The Rendezvous, which had retained enough power to manage a controlled crash landing, The Serendipity had been utterly helpless. The ship had plummeted into the blazing