of warm air and bright lights. He stood there for a moment, dripping onto the absorbent mat before shaking his head and walking on. Pushing the damp hair back from his eyes, he headed for the departure lounge for scheduled flights to Chagda Station. Despite the weather, it was quite busy and he had to elbow his way through the milling crowd of assorted species standing beneath the flight information screens.
Reaching the corridor lined with various small stores and eateries, he picked the quietest and, opening his coat so the Brotherhood emblem on his jacket was visible, headed for the counter to buy a mug of c'shar. As he joined the small line of customers waiting to be served, he made sure he jostled the male in front.
With a growl of annoyance, the traveler turned round. "You want to be a bit more careful..." He stopped as soon as he caught sight of the distinctive black uniform and badge.
"Apologies," Kusac murmured, inclining his head.
The male said nothing, merely turned back to the counter, but the incident had the desired effect of drawing all eyes to him. A group of people who'd been standing quietly drinking moved away, joining the steady stream of those making their way to the departure area. The assistant behind the counter leaned forward and called out to him.
"Can I serve you now, Brother?"
Kusac kept his sardonic thoughts to himself as he indicated those ahead of him. "I'll wait, thank you. I'm not in a hurry."
"No trouble. I'm sure no one will mind if I serve you first. You'll be wanting to be on your way." The tone was firm. He wasn't offering to serve him, he was insisting. But then, he'd counted on this response.
"C'shar," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket for some coins.
The sense of relief from both the stall holder and customers as he left with his disposable mug of c'shar was palpable, even to him. Sipping it, he headed for the Chagda Station lounge.
Once there, he made for the sanitary facilities, tossing his empty mug into a bin on the way. Plans of the complex had shown him that if he placed the disruptor in the air-conditioning duct, it would have the desired effect. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark-clad figure get up from one of the nearby seats and follow him. Dzaou.
The sanitary facilities were empty, which simplified matters considerably. "You watch the door," he ordered, hauling the nearest bin toward the air vent high above the washbasins.
Taking the lid off, he upended it, letting the wastepaper spill onto the floor. Climbing on top, he pulled a small spanner out of his jacket pocket and began undoing the bolts.
"Someone's coming," said Dzaou, a few minutes later, pushing the door shut and leaning on it. "Hurry up. I can't keep them out for long."
He grunted, letting the third bolt drop to the ground. Reaching for the bag, he unfastened it and pulled the disruptor out. The size of a pack of stim twigs, it fit easily into the aperture when he swung the cover aside on its remaining bolt. Letting the grille fall back into place, he leaped down, kicking the loose bolts away with his foot.
"Done," he said, picking the bin up, righting it, and placing it against the nearest wall. Turning, he saw Dzaou suddenly release the door, letting the male outside stumble into the room.
Glaring at him, the Sholan was about to complain when he realized they were both wearing the Brotherhood blacks.
"Damned door," said Dzaou. "Sticking like that. They want to get it seen to."
"And get this place cleaned up," said Kusac disdainfully as he followed him out. "Disgraceful the way they're letting hygiene standards fall like this."
Side by side, they headed back up the corridor to the central area then made their way toward the military exit.
"Now tell me the problem," he said in a low voice.
Dzaou glanced at him, face pulled into a scowl of annoyance. "Security's been increased since yesterday. Raiban's lot. Wasn't easy for me to come in from the field and find a place to change
Reaching the corridor lined with various small stores and eateries, he picked the quietest and, opening his coat so the Brotherhood emblem on his jacket was visible, headed for the counter to buy a mug of c'shar. As he joined the small line of customers waiting to be served, he made sure he jostled the male in front.
With a growl of annoyance, the traveler turned round. "You want to be a bit more careful..." He stopped as soon as he caught sight of the distinctive black uniform and badge.
"Apologies," Kusac murmured, inclining his head.
The male said nothing, merely turned back to the counter, but the incident had the desired effect of drawing all eyes to him. A group of people who'd been standing quietly drinking moved away, joining the steady stream of those making their way to the departure area. The assistant behind the counter leaned forward and called out to him.
"Can I serve you now, Brother?"
Kusac kept his sardonic thoughts to himself as he indicated those ahead of him. "I'll wait, thank you. I'm not in a hurry."
"No trouble. I'm sure no one will mind if I serve you first. You'll be wanting to be on your way." The tone was firm. He wasn't offering to serve him, he was insisting. But then, he'd counted on this response.
"C'shar," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket for some coins.
The sense of relief from both the stall holder and customers as he left with his disposable mug of c'shar was palpable, even to him. Sipping it, he headed for the Chagda Station lounge.
Once there, he made for the sanitary facilities, tossing his empty mug into a bin on the way. Plans of the complex had shown him that if he placed the disruptor in the air-conditioning duct, it would have the desired effect. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark-clad figure get up from one of the nearby seats and follow him. Dzaou.
The sanitary facilities were empty, which simplified matters considerably. "You watch the door," he ordered, hauling the nearest bin toward the air vent high above the washbasins.
Taking the lid off, he upended it, letting the wastepaper spill onto the floor. Climbing on top, he pulled a small spanner out of his jacket pocket and began undoing the bolts.
"Someone's coming," said Dzaou, a few minutes later, pushing the door shut and leaning on it. "Hurry up. I can't keep them out for long."
He grunted, letting the third bolt drop to the ground. Reaching for the bag, he unfastened it and pulled the disruptor out. The size of a pack of stim twigs, it fit easily into the aperture when he swung the cover aside on its remaining bolt. Letting the grille fall back into place, he leaped down, kicking the loose bolts away with his foot.
"Done," he said, picking the bin up, righting it, and placing it against the nearest wall. Turning, he saw Dzaou suddenly release the door, letting the male outside stumble into the room.
Glaring at him, the Sholan was about to complain when he realized they were both wearing the Brotherhood blacks.
"Damned door," said Dzaou. "Sticking like that. They want to get it seen to."
"And get this place cleaned up," said Kusac disdainfully as he followed him out. "Disgraceful the way they're letting hygiene standards fall like this."
Side by side, they headed back up the corridor to the central area then made their way toward the military exit.
"Now tell me the problem," he said in a low voice.
Dzaou glanced at him, face pulled into a scowl of annoyance. "Security's been increased since yesterday. Raiban's lot. Wasn't easy for me to come in from the field and find a place to change
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