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It displayed the crew Dr. Adelaide Black had chosen. So far there were 97 doctors, scientists, and technical experts.

“You’re one of the few with a scientific background who’s been out there.”

“I was a kid,” Sato persisted.

“That was five years ago. Now you’re a credentialed scientist in your own right. Think about it, we’re going to circumnavigate the galaxy! She even named her ship Beagle!”

“A tad presumptuous, isn’t it?” Sato asked. “Even for an American?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But we’ll be writing the book on the Galactic Union. We all know there’s more than meets the eye; the GalNet has too many dead ends. We’ll see things no Human has ever seen, and for generations they’ll read our books.” Sato felt a smile creep across his face. “Ah hah, there it is.”

Sato made the smile disappear. “I will consider it. How long?”

“She thinks five years.”

Sato sighed and looked down again. “My wife…we want to have a child.”

“She extended the invitation to include Ichika.”

Sato’s head came back up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Sato smiled fully this time, then nodded.

* * *

He stood arm in arm with his wife as the shuttle loaded, all 119 crew and staff of Beagle, soon to boost to orbit. He shook his head as he waved to the reporters and gathered family. It was 2033, only 5 years since he’d returned aboard Sakura Maru, and he was going back out. In the end, it had been space that had called to him. He’d loved his first trip, and to take his wife along this time was a dream come true. Maybe they could have a child out in the stars? Adventure awaited.

* * *

Sato held the conduit as a technician welded. Beagle was moored next to the deep space station as Dr. Black negotiated for spares and stores. The damage done by the aliens, a race of tiger-like beings known as Pushtal, was extensive.

“Why did they attack?” the technician asked.

“I wasn’t on the bridge,” Sato admitted. He’d been asleep, actually. “Dr. Black thinks they were pirates.”

“Space pirates,” the tech said and laughed. He was American, like many of the ship’s technical staff. “I used to watch TV shows about stuff like that in the 90s!”

“You weren’t on the far side of the galaxy in the 90s.”

“That’s true. Hold it there while I tack-weld it in place.” A moment later. “That’s gotten it. Do you think the doctor will turn us for home?”

“I don’t know,” Sato said. “Maybe? We’ve lost 22 of the crew since we left 18 months ago. But she isn’t the type to give up easily.”

His slate beeped. He wiped his hands and checked it. A message from Ichika. “Some good news?”

“Sure,” he replied.

“You are going to be a dad!”

The tech jumped when Sato whooped in joy.

* * *

“Damn it, Sato,” Dr. Black said and slapped a hand on the table. “You, too? That makes 11 going home.”

“Ichika is six months pregnant,” he reminded her. “That last landing we had resulted in a partially detached placenta.”

“She can stay on the ship,” she replied instantly. “Both of you.”

He could tell she didn’t like saying it. But it wasn’t enough. “I traded maintenance work on a Maki freetrader for a ride. We’ll be home in a month, well before the baby is born. If everything goes well, after the baby comes, I’ll be back here before you know it.”

“Sure,” she said, looking up at him. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Same,” he said. “Regardless, I’ll see you when you get back to Earth.”

* * *

“Just let us go,” Sato begged. “We’re not part of the crew.”

“You work for them,” the Aposo snarled and spat. He’d thought they were Veetanho when they’d boarded. The Maki captain hadn’t mentioned he’d gotten on the Aposo’s bad side when he’d cut through their space on the way to Earth. The freetrader had surrendered almost immediately. The 11 former members of Beagle were all floating in the freetrader’s lounge as the heavily armed Aposo ransacked the ship.

“I’m working for passage,” Sato explained.

“We’re scientists,” Terry Pratt said, his eyes wide in fear. “We just want to go home.”

“We’ve heard of Humans,” the alien said, glancing at his cohorts. “You are taking all kinds of merc jobs. Sucking up the good credits.”

“We’re not mercs,” someone else said; Sato didn’t see who.

“I’m scared,” Ichika whispered in his ear.

“It’s okay,” he said back. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“We have some credits,” Lisa Tull said. She was going home with them because her husband, a geneticist, had caught a strange alien bug and died. The trip had lost its luster after that. “You can have them if you just let us go.” It was entirely the wrong thing to say.

“Credits?” the Aposo leader roared. “You think we are pirates? Filthy Pushtal, who cheat and steal for a living?”

“No!” the woman cried out in surprise.

“This is a matter of honor,” the alien said. “You insult us, one of you dies.”

Many of them screamed and begged. The aliens were unmoved. In their nearly two years on this mission, Sato had seen how cheaply many races valued life. The Aposo valued it very little. Between a short lifespan and a bloodthirsty demeanor, they were among the worst of the so-called merc races.

“You Humans pick who dies,” the Aposo said.

Sato felt his blood run cold. Ichika was putting on a brave face, but he felt her shaking as she held him. None of their group were fighters in any way. Scientists and doctors didn’t tend toward violence or bravery. He realized if he left it up to them, there was no telling who would get picked, and he couldn’t take a chance.

“Me,” he said, feeling his resolve solidify.

“No!” Ichika cried and

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