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nodded. “Stellar. Here we are.”

Ernesto stopped at a hatch near the junction with Al-Zamani’s shuttle bay on Davida Station. The hatch was marked with the Al-Zamani logo, and security warnings in Arabic, Mandarin, and English, but Ernesto just tapped a code into the input pad on the wall, and the hatch slid open. He led Kimiko inside to a compartment set up as a small waiting room. There was a closed hatchway on the opposite side, underneath a lit red warning light. A uniformed staff member was stationed at a check-in counter set into the room’s left-hand side. Ernesto immediately smiled and approached them.

“Sup, Gondo,” he said to the person behind the counter, a tall, thin, masc-presenting person with a shiny, bald head and ebony skin, setting his helmet down and offering his hand. “How’ve you been?”

Gondo smiled at the greeting and shook Ernesto’s hand. “Oh, you know how it is, Ernesto. Just coming off shift?”

“You know it. This is my last run for the day.”

“And you’re my last check-in,” Gondo countered. Then he looked at Kimiko. “Who’s your friend?”

Ernesto patted a fatherly hand on Kimiko’s back. “This is Kim Yamato. She’s a new hire, so I’m ferrying her over to do her paperwork and pick up her badge.”

Kimiko smiled as Gondo looked her over. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her in her too-big company coverall, hoping that she didn’t look too out of place. “Did you miss the staff shuttle?” Gondo asked, finally.

“She sure did,” Ernesto answered for her, nodding.

“My ride in from Ceres was delayed,” Kimiko added, “and docked late.”

Gondo nodded as well. “Yeah, that happens a lot.” He reached underneath his counter, pulled something out, and handed it over to her. It was an ID tag, blank except for the Al-Zamani logo printed on it. “Here, you’ll need this, then. It’ll get you as far as the staff desk, and they should be able to help you from there.”

“Thanks,” Kimiko said as she grabbed it, then clipped it onto her coverall.

“Yeah, thanks, Gondo,” Ernesto added. “Can you let us through? I’ve still got to verify and file my manifest for this run.”

“Sure thing, Ernesto.” Gondo typed something into an input pad hidden below the counter. The red light over the closed hatchway changed to green, and the hatch slid open. “Have a good run, Ernesto. And, in case no one else has said it yet, welcome to Al-Zamani, Kim.”

“Thank you.”

Ernesto walked through the open hatch, and Kimiko stayed on his tail. Then the hatch closed behind them, as she followed him down a short, narrow corridor.

“That was almost too easy,” she commented.

“There’s a reason I chose this shift to bring you through,” Ernesto replied. “Gondo and I go way back, so he trusts me.” Then he lowered his voice. “Honestly, I think he would’ve helped if he knew who you actually were. He’s got no love for Al-Zamani, either.”

“But you didn’t–”

He waved a dismissive hand. “No way, Joe. I know how important operational security is, remember?”

Kimiko chuckled. “Yeah, sorry. Just the nerves talking, I guess.”

At the end of the corridor was another security door that required Ernesto to tap in a code to enter. Beyond that was a sizable chamber with a tall ceiling. It was mostly empty, except for several stacks of supply crates and a single container with its lid off and set, tilted against the side. Beyond the crate stacks, the chamber opened up directly onto a large shuttle bay, where Kimiko could see at least two boxy shuttles adorned with the Al-Zamani livery, although from her angle, she could mostly see just their big drive cones.

“You should button up now,” Ernesto told her. “The shipping crate doesn’t have a lot of room inside.”

She looked at the open crate. It was maybe one and a half meters long on each side. “Yeah, looks like it’ll be a little cramped.”

He frowned apologetically. “All the better to allay any suspicion. Larger crates usually go directly to the Yard and are rarely processed at Davida Station. But it’s a short trip, at least.”

Kimiko nodded. “It’s fine.” She activated her full suit, which extruded from the harness underneath her coverall, and helmet, which blossomed from her collar ring and closed around her head. Ernesto’s eyes went wide as he watched. There was a quiet hiss as her suit’s air supply activated. Between the compressed air in her tank, and the suit’s filtration unit, she had more than twelve hours before she would need to find another way to breathe. Then she lifted herself over the side and started to crouch down inside of it. It took a few moments to get herself into a sort of curled-up, fetal position where the lid would attach and seal, but she would still be comfortable enough for the trip.

“Once I’ve docked at Al-Zamani, the cargo techs will unload all of these crates, including yours, to a freight transfer area while the shuttle is refueled. I don’t have any return cargo on this turnaround, but that could change en route. Your best bet would be to exit the container before I take off for my return trip. Most everyone there will be distracted with the shuttle.”

She nodded. “Understood.”

“Hang on to that ID badge Gondo gave you. I didn’t expect him to, but it’ll at least make you look a little more official if you’re spotted. You probably already know this,” he added, sounding nervous for the first time, “but their security is really tight.”

“I know, and I will.”

He nodded. “Alright. Then, if all goes according to plan,” Ernesto said as he lifted the container lid over her, “we won’t see each other again during the trip. So, good hunting.”

“Thanks again, Ernesto. Really.”

He nodded, then pushed the lid into place, cutting off all of the outside light.

“The crate is now sealed,” Paradox informed her, via the QED. “I’ve accessed the station security feed and am observing you. I can share the feed with you if you like.”

“That would be

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