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"Rimsoo Seven, Admiral, sir," the driver said.

Bleyd nodded. He had been here before, though it had been several months, at least. The place looked like all the others; only the location and the local graffiti marked it as different.

Well, that and the fact that his partner in crime, Filba the Hutt, was based here...

They approached the perimeter, were challenged by the guard, and admitted through the energy shield. The military-grade power shield kept certain things out, notably fast-moving missiles and high-energy spectra such as gamma and X- rays, while letting in radio waves and visible light. Unfortunately, heat, rain, spores, and insects were slow enough to some degree to pass through the osmotic shield as well.

Bleyd met Colonel D’Arc Vaetes, the commander, and each offered up the usual ordained and meaningless compliments and comments. Going through the mo-tions, Bleyd was paying somewhat less than half his at-tention to the tour. Vaetes ran a tight ship, he knew, and the admiral would have been surprised to see anything really amiss.

As they passed the dining hall and cantina on their way to look at the main surgical theater, Bleyd saw a man leaning against a poptree twenty meters away, smiling.

A chill touched Bleyd’s spine, for there was a distinct sense of danger emanating from the smiling human. There was nothing overt about it, nothing that might be seen as a gesture of disrespect, but the feeling was un-mistakable. Here was a warrior-not just a soldier. A smiling killer who knew what he was and gloried in the knowledge.

Bleyd stopped. "Who is that?"

Vaetes glanced over and said, "Phow Ji, the Bunduki close-combat instructor. His workouts keep me in bet-ter shape than I’d like."

"Ah." That explained it. Bleyd knew about Ji. Like any good hunter, he always marked predators in his ter-ritory. Ji had had a reputation before he arrived here; his datafile had been flagged. And since he had arrived, he had done several things to add to that reputation. There was a rumor that a holo existed of Ji going up against a trio of mercs, and being the only one to walk away. Bleyd was very interested in seeing that.

To Vaetes, he said, "Let’s go over and say hello." As they turned and headed toward Ji, the admiral was amused to see the fighter’s nostrils flare a little, and his relaxed pose become just a bit more tense. He smiled. It could have just been his rank, but Bleyd didn’t think so. His file stated that Phow Ji had little respect for author-ity. No, Bleyd figured that Ji recognized in him the same thing that he had immediately seen in the Bunduki: a potentially dangerous opponent. Ji came to attention, albeit somewhat slowly.

"At ease, Lieutenant Ji."

"By your command, Admiral." The fighter relaxed, bent his knees slightly, and shook his shoulders almost imperceptibly.

Getting ready to move, Bleyd thought. Excellent1. This man could take on twenty Black Sun thugs like the one Bleyd had bested orbitside without breaking a sweat.

"You know me?" Ji asked.

"Of course. I have heard that you are... an adept fighter."

His tone, and the pause, were just enough to give his comment an archness that might or might not be sar-castic. So close that it could have been nothing-or a calculated insult.

Impossible to tell.

The two looked at each other for a second, each gaze cool and measuring.

Ji said, "Adept enough for anyone on this planet. Sir."

Bleyd held a grin in check, though he wanted to show his teeth. The Bunduki was insolent.

The comment was plainly a challenge. There had been a time, when he had been much younger, when Bleyd would have stripped off his skin-shirt at such a remark, and they would have danced right then and there. He wanted to do it now-and he could tell that Ji knew this, and was ready to go at it, too.

Three things stopped Bleyd from physically attacking the Bunduki who was standing there and inviting just that. First, he was an admiral of the fleet, and it was be-neath him to be seen brawling in public. Such a match would have to take place behind closed doors and un-witnessed,