Sweet Starfire

not to be offended, but she knew her voice sounded overly formal. “I assure you I understand the tradition of a captain being in charge of his own ship.”
    He looked at her in mild astonishment. “You do?”
    “I read a great deal,” she confided. “I’m a trained archivist. One of my areas of expertise is the fiction written about the First Families and the early explorations.”
    “Wonderful.” His mouth crooked dryly as he took another swallow of the coffade. “I’m sure all that reading will have prepared you to slip right into shipboard life. I’ve had trouble with the few previous passengers I’ve had on board, but I can see that won’t be the case with you.”
    Perhaps the residual pain in her head was making her more sensitive than usual. Whatever the reason, Cidra felt a touch of annoyance. “There’s no reason to be flippant. If you’ve had trouble with previous passengers, my guess is it’s because you were impolite or abrupt in your manner of giving orders.”
    “Orders sometimes have a way of sounding rude and abrupt. I just want it clear that the tone of voice in which they are given does not alter the fact that they’re still orders. Understood?”
    “I have the feeling I’ve just received the first command. Message clear and comprehended, Otan Severance.”
    “I’ve told you to skip the Otan.”
    “Would you prefer that I address you as Captain Severance?”
    “Now who’s being flippant?” he drawled. “Use my name. Either name. I don’t think the informality will do much damage to the sense of discipline in the remainder of the crew.” He glanced at Fred.
    “Did Fred ever have any sense of discipline to begin with?” Cidra asked.
    “Not a lot.” Severance was quiet for a while. “I don’t suppose you know how to play Free Market?”
    “Harmonics do not gamble.”
    “I was afraid of that. It’s going to be a long two weeks, isn’t it?”
    Cidra hesitated. But she did want to be as accommodating as possible. “I could learn to play the game,” she offered tentatively. “It’s not necessary to make wagers, is it? I expect that the game is played the same, with or without credit being exchanged.”
    “The stakes are what make the game interesting.”
    “Oh. Well, it’s a moot point. I don’t have anything to put forth as a wager except perhaps a few novels on data slips. I don’t imagine that would interest you.” She felt relieved. She had made the offer, and it was obvious that Severance wasn’t too excited about it. Cidra felt off the hook.
    “I could try teaching you the game first, and then we can decide whether you’ve got anything worth wagering,” Severance said slowly.
    A faint thread of wariness unfurled inside Cidra. She studied Teague’s unreadable face. “I’ve heard that many Wolves are quite addicted to gambling.”
    ‘“It’s just a way of passing time. A form of recreation. Not to be taken too seriously.”
    “Then you are not one of the addicts?” she asked cautiously.
    Severance smiled, that same grin that showed so many fine, strong teeth and so little real humor. “Of course not. I’m only a casual player.”
    “Oh, good.” She felt vastly relieved. “Well, in that case, I suppose I could attempt to learn to play Free Market.”
    “We’ll give it a whirl after we’ve had some sleep. I keep standard Lovelady days on board ship.” He got to his feet. “Think you can make it up into your own bunk? Or do you want me to carry you?”
    Gingerly Cidra started to sit up. Fred moved off her feet with a low, grumbling sound. Cidra ignored him, concentrating on her body’s reactions to the movement. Her head still hurt, but the pain seemed distant, a dull threat but not a major disaster any longer. She massaged her temple, aware of a vague sense of weary disappointment.
    “What’s the matter? Still feel like your head’s going to explode?” Severance slid a rough hand under her curtain of hair and began kneading the nape of her neck.
    “It’s not that. I feel much better. It’s just that—” She broke off and moved her hand in a gesture of dismay. “I shouldn’t.”
    “Shouldn’t feel much better?”
    “Never mind. It’s hard to explain.”
    Severance continued to work on the base of her neck. “Still worrying because you don’t have a Saint’s catatonic reaction to pain?”
    “It’s just one more reminder that I have a long way to go before I become a Harmonic. You must understand. I don’t want to