The bored-looking sentry at Rigormortis’s VIP door spoke into his wrist and waited for a response while he routinely sized up the quartet in front of him. No such response was heard, but after about a minute spent staring at each other in the light evening air – and to Django’s mild yet pleasant surprise - he stepped silently backwards to the door and held it open for them.

Garda-Villis was a large planet with surface landmasses covering only about fifteen percent of its surface.  When Django Beldt's air/raft exited the starport loaded with his newest clients there was nothing to see but the smooth arc of sulphur-tinctured water unblemished except for perhaps the clouds.

It was a quick about-face and Gunnar, Aurora, and Teagan passed back through the security checkpoint and into the landing bay.  Traffic leaving the station wasn't scanned nearly as much as that entering, and all they had to endure were a couple of once-overs by two station security officers in their blue jumpsuits who were standing across the pedestrian path from each other watching the people go by like it was their job, which it was.

“Boudicca.”

Django Beldt’s call echoed throughout the spacecraft. He took his time climbing the ladder out of the engine room and into the main corridor. He wasn’t as quick as he used to be, which was fine because he wasn’t in such a hurry as when he was younger. That always struck him as ironic. Young people with their entire lives ahead of them rush around like there’s no tomorrow while old timers like him with fewer days ahead of them take things at a leisurely pace. Once on deck he straightened his suspenders and dabbed his bald head with a handkerchief. It was hot down by the engine.

“Boudicca. Where are you hiding, girl?”

A creature dropped from the ceiling and screamed in Django’s face. It was the kind of scream that reached into your chest and pulled out your soul. The creature extended several of it’s tentacles in a fierce display and bared its sharp needle-like teeth.