Safe pilots the General Grant to the space port at Boros’ capital city. The battered exterior drawing the passing attention of some folk. To most it was no different than any other ship. To one, it was of particular interest.

Safe and Jack disembark the Grant. As they make their way through the sparse crowd in the terminal, they discuss the pros and cons of large caliber versus small caliber........anything, as men with their history are wont to do. Their progress and conversation is abruptly interrupted a hand on Safe’s chest to stop him. Safe stops and slowly looks down at the offending hand and back up at the offender, a bald, overweight, greasy man flanked by two large “accomplices”.

“You plannin’ on donating that hand to science?” Safe asks quietly. “’Cause I’d be mor’n happy to do it for you if you don’t move it”.

Jack rests his right hand on his gun, the other still holding his rucksack over his left shoulder.

The brute takes in Safe’s steely look and Jack’s apparent ease, and lowers his hand. “That your shuttle?” He gestures toward the Grant.

“Depends on who’s askin’” drawls Jacks, never taking his hand off his gun.

“Word has it the Grant is from the Sereni-Tree.” The brute sneers again. It’s at this point Safe notices an angry red scar running from the man’s chin to his ear.

“What’s it to ya?” Jack drawls again.

“I got me some “business” with one of the crew.” The brute snarls, absently fondling the scar. “An’ I recon yer gonna help me find her.”

“And if we feel less than inclined to help “gentlemen” such as yourselves?” Safe says as he quickly glances over at Jack.

The brute smirks back at his two hulking cronies, “Well then, Hugo and Gordo here will have to persuade you real ungentle like.” As if on cue, the two grin and crack their knuckles.

Jack turns to Safe, “Hey Safe, isn’t there a leash law in this town?” He jerks a thumb towards Hugo and Gordo. He turns back to the bald man. “remember, a conscientious pet owner stoops and scoops.”

The two thugs growl and