The Lordun delegation looked smart in black and gold military-styled dress uniforms—slacks, tunic, boots. They all carried sidearms, Maius noticed. Well, she supposed there was nothing odd about that. But the way these men moved suggested that for some of them, the sidearms were not just for show.

They were also bringing along a fairly large number of wheeled cases, each about four by two by one meters in size. When Maius tried to check them with her handeye, they were all completely opaque to scans. “What is in those crates?” she asked one of the uniformed men.

Someone spoke behind her. “Trade goods, Miss—?”

She turned. “Greater Chanteuse Maius. And you are?”

“Ambassador Neely of Lordun, Miss Maius.” The silver-haired man bent to kiss her hand. “This is quite an impressive ship.”

“It is our world,” Maius said simply. Trade goods? It made sense, she supposed; they would not want to show what they had until negotiation time. Still, something about it did not sit right. “Come. I will show you more of it.”