Some time after Sara returned to the bridge, Grimoire’s Bridge, Jacket Klem

  Gree-Klem of the order of the Jackets sat quietly at the back of the bridge. Over Captain Abrams' shoulder, he could partially see the captain's arm display, and a clear view of the rest of the bridge crew diligently bent to their tasks. A large display forward showed a simplified depiction of the pirate ship. He recognized the ship as Maverick Canines had. The former rebel ship It Was Like That When I Got Here, when translated to galactic standard. It was much shorter in his language, but what was the point for a species that naturally couldn’t pronounce the words to try? Canine tried sure, but it was much more operationally sound to call it by its galactic standard translation.

  The Long Walks had changed course a few minutes ago, angling to join Grimoire inside its exclusion zone, where anything entering like a missile was legally allowed to be intercepted by other weapons. Even as a peacemaker, Klem agreed that laws like that were antiquated even a thousand years ago. Even though some made no sense, it was his duty to enforce all the laws. Even the ones he was trying to change.

  “Missile launch detected, wait one… they are targeting the Long Walk! Sara exclaimed.

  “Can we intercept?” Captain Abrams asked? Klem noticed he seemed to be indicating if the other prontromas could intercept, not just Maverick Canine.

  “No,” Sara said, her shoulder slumping.

  “I’m getting life pod beacons from… the pirates?” Selena said.

  “The Mavericks' second message should have reached them just before the missile launched. What are they doing?”

  “More missile signatures detected, uh, they didn't come from anywhere, they're just in open space,” Sara said, confused.

  “Get an active sensor on where they came from. It could be a stealth ship.” Captain Abrams said cool under pressure. Sara stared at her monitors before shaking her head, a look of wonder taking over.

  “Sir, the new missiles are targeting the pirates' missiles… I think Nick fired them,” Sara said, forgetting herself.

  “Who?” Jean asked, and the looks from around the bridge all said the same.

  “Uh, Canine, he must have deployed them before his acceleration, but he had to have guessed the general area the missiles would be. The missiles have been coasting at .1c from his prontromas velocity the entire time. Confirm intercept on one of the missiles. It's hard to tell anything, wait, no three more explosions like the first. I’ll be sure in a minute, but it looks like all missiles were destroyed.” Sara said. It was a wonder that what she was seeing happened over 3 minutes. The lag of light from distance makes the odd look into the past surreal.

  Canines prontroma was passing between the pirates and the merchant ship. Sara didn't bother mentioning the change in acceleration up to 12 gravity; focus more on adjusting the estimated plots. She wasn't going to let herself get distracted, even with the knot forming in her stomach. She knew Nick could only do 11 gravity, maybe more for short periods. Unless he had gotten better, he was dangerously close to blacking out.

  Out in the vastness of space, the burn trauma fired more missiles on its initial pass. Looping around and burning too slow to decelerate. Each time passing close to the pirate weapon signatures of real guns lit off, hitting sections of the hull that were identified to have weapons and placements that identified themselves when they shot the first pair of missiles directed at them. Nick was doing loops around them, whittling away their defenses before unleashing another salvo of missiles, far more this time. They impacted the engines at the same time as his prontroma passed. The earlier escape pods identified as surrendering were far off now, but even with crippled engines, the It Was Like That When I Got Here didn't send any surrender.

  A video feed linked to Grimoire and Selena put it up on the main screen without asking. It was a perspective from inside Nick's cockpit. A blur of the pirate's ship and snippets of open space resolved as he came to a halt in front of a large windowed area.

  “Is that their bridge?” Selena asked. It looked like it to Sara, but having an open bridge on the external parts of the ship was uncommon. Even Grimoire normally had the bridge protected in the forward section of the hole when it wasn't deployed for traffic control.

  “There's audio, turn it up.” Jacket Klem said.

  “Don't act so surprised, Colo. How long did you think you'd be able to get by like this? They're probably ain't a station left that doesn't have you listed for a rest. And you kind of burned any of the shadier options when you crossed the Ghost. Did Harrison tell you that he was still paying off the ship before you killed him?” A static Canine accompanied the grain footage. A disgruntled chirp, who looked like the captain, was yelling and shaking his fist at Canine. A human and a chirp were huddled around one console, discreetly waving for another to join them. Suddenly, the chirp at the council waved at the captain and rapidly approached him. She seemed like she was going to whisper in his ear, but when she leaned in, she pulled his pistol from his holster and shot him three times in the chest. Shocked, wide-eyed, Captain Colo fell back. The female chirp stood on his neck, his eyes bulging before mercifully ending his life with a shot to the head. She spat on his corpse, and as some of the crew ran over and started kicking his dead body or spitting on him, she walked over to the captain's chair and activated communication.

  “I would say thank you for sharing that, but at the same time, you have me at gunpoint.” The unidentified female chirp said.

  “Reana, I don't want to shoot you, but if you surrender, I'll try to put in a good word for you. Although in a couple of weeks my word probably won't be that good.” Canine said. Reana smiled, her face flecked with Colo’s blood.

  “Harrison always did tell you the fleet would hang you out to dry.” She said,

  “He was also a horrible judge of character. I could always shoot you now. See if it gets me brownie points at the court-martial.” Canine said Sara could hear the grin in his voice. Reana pushed the button and typed in commands.

  “Surrender message from the pirate ship!” Selena exclaimed. The bridge erupted into cheers, the captain even hugging Jean before composing himself. Klem shook hands with the captain and executive officer. All Sara could do was absent-mindedly remember not to fall over when Selena hugged her. Sara’s wide eyes never left the screen.

  5 hours later, Grimoire Hangar, Sara

  It had been five hours since the surrender. There was some indication of system authority ships changing course, but no solid confirmation of who was going to take in the pirates. Long Walk's crew of 8 was especially thankful. Their captain was Thraug, a large, muscular 10-foot behemoth with thick, dark grey skin. Although they evolved from omnivores, they were known for their short speech and propensity to break into a rage. Although widely stereotyped and not at all very common, it was sad that if a Thraug started quoting peaceful poetry, you should either run or apologize.

  Jacket Klem had entered private discussions with them a while ago, and Sara's shift was finally nearing an end. It had taken some convincing and a few refusals to obey Captain Abrams' orders under the grounds that he wasn't in his chain of command. Canine had wanted to stay exactly where he was floating in front of the pirate ship for the next two days until system authorities could relieve him. He finally relented when the captain asked him to station himself as a ready bird until system authorities arrived. Essentially, he was going to stay on his ship, ready to launch at a moment's notice. Then, Flight Leader Cable had to get involved to browbeat Canine into landing in the hangar. A few threats and insults from Cable persuaded Canine into agreeing.

  Sara stood just outside the hangar. For minutes, looking at the door control, hesitating. Finally, she entered. At first, his prontroma looked like it had taken damage, but then she realized parts of the hole had been sandblasted off. Pipes and tubes were hooked up to it. She could see a pair of legs sticking out of what looked like a retractable missile port. She knew rather than guessed somehow that it was Nick. The first time in her life, she was frozen, unable to approach him. The anger she felt earlier towards him was gone, left in its wake was an abyss she couldn't fathom. Her feelings foreign to her and untouchable.

  She didn't know how long she had stood there, lost in her thoughts. A few feet away. It might have been hours for all she knew. She's just stood there.

  At the end of her shift, everyone on first watch had huddled into the ready room. All except the captain, who had already been read in during the Jackets' conference with him and Canine. Selena moved the broken poster into storage and conspiratorially winked at Sara.

  “I'm going to be completely honest with all of you. Nothing that you weren't going to know in a couple of days anyway, and some of this has already been disseminated through the crew. What I'm about to tell you is incredibly classified within your Human Defense Fleet. And some of what I'm going to tell you probably hasn't even reached terriers yet. Over a year ago, Canine was assigned to pilot for Aries to Green Skies Incorporated, my partner and me, as well as some cargo to The Roost. He's accompanied us on our journey through 4th-dimensional space. Our end goal was the rift, but we never made it. Although it has never been officially confirmed, I can without a doubt confirm that The Roost was lost with almost all hands. We and other survivors escaped on the surviving ship within its hangars. If it wasn't for The Den and fierce fighting by them and many of the survivors, I would not be here today.” Klem said.

  “Was The Den affiliated with the rebels and the Razgriez?” Selena asked.

  “They were not affiliated with the rebels, but understandably, there were some ships that were rebels on The Den, and they were instrumental in helping us get back. However, the destruction of the den was a direct result of refusing to join their cause.” Klem said.

  “Do you think we will find more than wreckage in 4D space?” Asked Jean.

  “The explosions were not planned, but The Den was intending to jump as much of its mass as it could to escape the rebel envelopment. I’m not certain, but I hope there are survivors. My niece and Jacket partner were on board when it disappeared.” Klem said

  “Did the heir survive?” Someone asked.

  “Again, I hope so, she was my niece,” Klem said tiredly.

  “What does this have to do with Mavericks?” Sara broke the silence. Everyone in the room eyed her knowingly.

  “There were a few elderly retired Mavericks on The Den.” Klem started, genuinely understanding her real question, and was getting to it when Sara cut him off.

  “What did this have to do with Nick, not the fleet dog, not your Jacket attaché. Why is he being court-martialed?” Sara growled. Surprised how she was able to keep from yelling. Again, the room was silent longer this time. Klem's tongue nervously smacked his beak.

  “Your friend, Nick, not only saved my life on multiple occasions. But the lives of many others. And at one point, The Den would never have made it home if not for him. I do not pretend to understand how you humans or your fleets think and operate. If it were up to me, I would be pushing for accommodations. You are going to have to ask him. You have the clearance to know technically now,” Klem trailed off.

  The rest of the meeting had nothing of note, and now Sara found herself staring at Nick. He had a flashlight in his mouth that drooped when he made eye contact with her. He waved after wiping his hands with a rag. She awkwardly waved back. Then she realized the two sodas she had in her hand had started to go warm. She took a few steps forward into arm's reach and offered him one. He took one and I dictated with a tilt of his head to the forward of the prontroma. She followed him to the entry hatch and joined him, sitting on the lip of her chair. They stay like that, sipping their sodas. Sara didn't know what to say, but somehow saying nothing felt comfortable. Nostalgia of hours spent together as kids, saying nothing but quietly playing games or walking through the halls of Sardonyx. A level of communication only comes from someone you've known for a very long time. Sara looked at Nick sipping his soda, his bright blue eyes seemed brighter, and the small drop at the corner of his lips was for the first time straight and even, curled up a little bit, and a passive smile. He was standing up straight, and his air of confidence that he had grown up with had returned. For the first time since he came aboard and didn't look depressed, it was only now, seeing him, that she realized how much darker and cloudier his eyes were. In all senses of the word, he looked better.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I had to do a sort of earlier because of the alert, I got some extra maintenance I got to do, and I'll be living on my ship for the next couple of days on ready alert. I got everything I need in there, and you're welcome to visit. I guess I just might have to kick you out if I have to launch.” He laughed at his joke.

  “I was on the bridge,” Sara said bluntly. Nick froze, his face paling. You weren't going to tell me, Sara thought.

  “Ok,” Nick said. The one word spoke volumes. The ball was in Sara's court after she had dashed away the first few cards to the tower of lies Nick had started to build. Sara chewed her lip, not sure where to start. She felt an urge to curse him or yell. That confused her. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn't even killed anybody. Still, that anger she felt earlier and the confusion left behind made her indecisive.

  “Last night you said you used to take care of kids, babysitting,” Sara said, the words just coming out of her from nowhere.

  “I did, yeah.” He said, a silent What about it? Hanging between them.

  “Were they on The Den?” Sara asked. Her hand went into his, squeezing reassuringly. Nick took longer to reply.

  “Yeah.” He barely whispered, the one word Sara could read on his lips, his calm demeanor moments ago shattered, his eyes hooded as he dipped his head. There was a noise of hooves clip-clopping across the hangar. Nick smiled sardonically at the little goat automaton trying to walk up the side of the prontroma up to them.

  “Your ESA is here too,” Sara said, squeezing his hand.

  “Service Automaton,” Nick said stubbornly.

  “Right, as if your goat isn't as chaotic and unpredictable as a normal pet.” Sara teased.

  “It's defective,” Nick said. The goat headbutted him in the chest. Sara laughed, and he smiled a little.

  “I don't know what happened, but I find it hard to think that it's your fault what happened to The Den. And I do hope you could introduce me to these kids and your home someday.” Sara said, and Nick tensed when she said someday.

  “I don't even know if they're still there.” He choked out. He pressed his face into her shoulder with a hug. The goat pushed into his chest as he squeezed it. Soft bleats masked his muffled cries.

  He didn't cry for more than a few seconds but stayed like that with her for a while. They could have gone on in that silent comfort, but Sara broke the peace.

  “Nick, I've got to know, why did you get Mavericked? Or at least tell me why they're court-martialing you? You don't have to tell me everything now, but I need to know. I knew we both did a lot of growing up over the years, but there's so much more than I expected and… I don't know…I just need you to let me in. After today, I technically have complete clearance. Your Jacket friend already filled me in, and the rest of the bridge crew on a lot.” She said.

  “Even the freebird event?” Nick asked tiredly. Sara tensed, and Nick's hand on her shoulder shot up, realizing. Just by the look on her face, he knew the answer was no.

  “What?” She whispered. Any chance for him to brush it off was lost by the fear in his eyes. Sara could read him like a book. He looked at her, stunned, before his face hardened.

  “I need to go,” he pulled away.

  “What, no Nick, wait!” They both were already standing, he keying the airlock to open into his prontroma.

  “Anytime someone becomes a Maverick, it has to be approved. Hasn't happened for a long time, and there's a lot of push to back this time. So I'm going to be court-martialed and they're going to figure out whether to hang me out to dry or do what they've always been supposed to do." His words had a hard edge as the airlock cycled open.

  “Nick, they can't do that?” She grabbed his arm, and he stiffened almost like she was going to attack him. Instinctively, he expertly twisted his arm around and grabbed her wrist, breaking it away from his arm while simultaneously pulling her close. His hurt expression and blank look in his eyes were focused. Some part of her felt threatened, but he hadn’t hurt her, and she had grabbed him rather roughly.

  “I'm sorry, I don't, look, Sara, I killed people, I did what I had to. I was really good at my job, and I don't know if I want to be cleared, and everything that made it worthwhile, everyone might be completely gone.” Nick said as he lifted her by the grip on her arm and lowered her the two feet to the hangar deck. Stunned, she just stood there and watched him disappear into a ship. A silent hiss of the lock was the final note to the conversation.

  2 days later, Grimoire, near Hangar, Sara

  Two days came and went, Sara went about her shifts, and Dribble’s invited her to go out with the rest of the flight officers. People asked her about the alert 1, trying to loosen her up with drinks. It was fun watching the flight officers circle the wagon like she was their little sister. It was fun, but she still found herself pondering Nick. Dribble called it moping and saw right through her lies, even if she didn’t. When the system authorities arrived and took control of the escape pods and pirate ship, she was on the bridge. She assisted with data transfer and the return to full 1g burn in the direction of the star system's edge. Where Grimoire would meet up with a jump-capable ship and possibly a few other ships. Then they would jump to the Delta system, a 3-star system that was one of four sectors that always had one of them as the closest star system to the Milky Way. Technically, the tumbleweed galaxy was still in the upper reaches of the Orion arm, but it was slowly making its way to extra-galactic space. This far up on the galactic plane, there were still a smattering of star systems above and around the tumbleweed galaxy, but so far away that no jump drive could reliably jump far enough to reach them.

  Sara had finally tried visiting Nick's standby watch was over, and he didn't need to stay in his ship. That didn't mean he didn't have to come out. She refused to stay long, even if she was tempted to bang on his cockpit instead of leaving him to sulk.

  He wasn't going to ruin her evening. It was another good night at the bar, and she even got the wild hair to sing a little bit on stage. Dribbles and Selena walked with her back to her room, joined at the hips. Her and Dribbles' room was in the same direction, and it was extremely clear that Selena was going to stay there tonight. Just outside Sara's room, they all stopped at the familiar clip-clopping of hooves. Sure enough, around the corner came the goat, walking on the ceiling. It stopped when it saw them and did a weird little prance with its front hooves.

  “Why does it look like it's trying to summon something?” A drunk, Selena slurred.

  “Maybe it wants us to follow them.” An equally drunk but slightly more coordinated Dribbles said.

  “Yeah, but if it wants us to follow it,” Sara began, but was cut off by a loud baaaa. The goat disappeared around the corner and then poked his head out halfway down the wall expectantly. Reluctantly, the trio followed them. They came upon the hangar entrance, the goat waiting on the wall by the door console for them. It opened the door to an uncharacteristically dark hangar, and the little goat walked in, quickly disappearing into the pitch black darkness.

  “Nope, fuck no, I've seen this horror movie,” Dribbles said.

  “I'm not a pansy like him, but that is pretty creepy. Should we get somebody to look into the lights?” Selena said. Sara looked between Dribbles and Selena, torn between an equal sentiment of spookiness and concern not just for Nick but her ship in general. The lights weren't supposed to be off like that.

  “Uh, why don't y'all go get help to look into the lights. I'll stay here and poke around.”Sara said. The door closed while they were talking, and there was some conversation before the two left, leaving just Sara. She looked at the door and waited, but after a few minutes open the door opened. She had intended to just wait there until they got back, but the little goat walked through the door and bleated at her through a flashlight in its mouth. It danced frantically and ran back into the dark, this time illuminating the way. Tentatively, Sara took steps into the gloom and followed it. She stopped when she heard scraping, like metal scraping on metal. Frozen and tear, she stood there, almost jumping at the clattering sound of metal skidding across the deck. There's a sound of water, and then scrubbing.

  “There you are, I told you to get the damn thing reset,” a strained, hushed voice called out. There was a little baaa before it was cut short, and the sound that Sara could only imagine was the goat sliding across the floor. Then silence. A soft sobbing drifted quietly across the hangar, joined by scrubbing noises. The goat walked up to Sara, still frozen in fear. It nudged her leg and rubbed itself comfortingly against her skin. Finally, Sara reached down to pet the goat. It chomped down on her hand in pulled her forward through the darkness. She came to a console that I climbed up. The screen came on, and it started tapping commands with its hooves. It set a paint scheme to run and looked at Sara expectantly. It was bizarre, and the low sobbing hadn't stopped. It needed crew operation to begin, which is why she was supposed to go wanted her here. If it were just paint, what could be the harm? She keyed her thumb into the start command. The hum of machinery came to life, and spray painting noises started. The scrubbing noise stopped, but the crying became more frantic. Sarah looked through the rest of the controls and found the lights had been turned off manually. She tried bringing some of them on slowly. The goat was already running over to the sound of crying when the lights came on. Sara put her hand in her mouth this muffle her gasp. She ran to the entrance and stepped outside, closing the hangar door behind her. Selena was a few pieces away, and she could see dribbles and two other men further down the hall. Sara grabbed Selena.

  “I fix the light problems, but whatever you do, I need you to keep them out of the hanger,” Sara whispered.

  “But the mechanic already wants to look. What do you expect me to do?” Selena said.

  “I don't care if you have to seduce all three of them, I need this hanger empty for the next couple of hours,” Sara said. Salinas smiled mischievously.

  “Dear friend, are you, for once, actually encouraging me to be salacious?” Selena said.

  “Yes, just keep them out. Now go fuck off, get bent,” Sara said. Already going back into the hangar and attempting a lock on the door. Although if the mechanic really wanted to get in here, he probably had the overrides or know-how to force through it.

  The crying hadn't stopped. Instead, it was mixed with babbling words like ‘I’m sorry’. Quietly, Sara approached the prontroma, Nick curled up below it, a bucket of reddish water spilled nearby a brush. Slowly, the machine was covering up the ship's name, but hadn't gotten to the red paint Nick had been obsessed enough to try and scratch off with a knife. Along the bottom port side, multiple feathers marked tally kills. Sara knew the tradition and the meaning of feather colors. Black was always missile or unmanned intercepts, golden feathers were manned kills of ships or vehicles. And although it was rare, there were times when flight officers participated in boarding defense or even boarding actions. And if they got kills, they were denoted by red feathers. Painted across Nick's prontroma was a stylized wing of feathers outlined in Black and Gold. But the largest section of all was nothing but red. She counted at least 30 feathers, but wasn't done counting when the crying stopped. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot. His hands looked wrinkled from all the sponge scrubbing. He was shaking, cradling the goat in his lap.

  “Nick…it's ok,” Sara said. Was it okay? Her mind wasn't processing right. Her instinct to run up to Nick and hug him was confronted by all the red feathers. He said he had killed people, but she assumed it was like the gold feathers. There had to be over 40, maybe 50 feathers. He'd only been gone for a year. Maybe he'd gotten some earlier, but still, this was absurd.

  “They tried to take families. They were targeting non-combatants. I couldn't, they deserved it!” Nick broke into more crying. He looked manic, not the bipolar kind, but broken and confused. Even if Nick had never had his surgery, there was no similarity to the mania he had as a child. Sara didn't realize she was crying now. She didn't know what to say or do. Finally, she knew her answer. Her best friend needed her. She moved him into the Prontromas airlock. He kept blubbering, “I'm sorry.”

  “Nick, shut up. I don't need apologies. I'm here, I'm not walking off. I need you to pull yourself together for a minute and get us inside your Prontroma.” Sara barked in her best drill instructor voice. In his fragile state, he snapped into action, opening his airlock, letting them in.

  “Sorry. Uh, I mean yes ma'am, uh, I mean ok.” Nick stumbled over his words and held together long enough to get inside. He was better than earlier, but still starting to hyperventilate. He pulled his hair, and Sara gently tried to move his hands away. She had seen tufts of hair he must have ripped out when he was outside.

  “Sara, I can hear them, and sometimes I feel like I'm there again. I can't sleep, I keep waking up, I don't know what to do. Then the fucking mechanic ran the paint function while I was asleep. I told him not to I told him not to do anything with my Prontroma. Everything was the way I needed.” Nick said. Including the sandblasted hull that removed the tally marks, she thought.

  “When was the last time you slept?” she asked.

  “I woke up only a couple of hours ago. I slept for two or three hours at least. Other nights, sometimes six or seven.” He looked down, ashamed for some reason. “I don't sleep well, and most nights I have nightmares.” He said. His shirt was soaked, but thankfully, his bed was well-made.

  “Let's get you in bed even if you can't sleep.” She said, tugging at his shirt. He struggled a little as she yanked his shirt off. “Relax, I've seen you naked before.” She said.

  “When we were five!” He yelled. Seeking refuge, jumping into his bed as if she were going to try and remove more. She wasn't, but he was doing what she asked, so she didn't care. “Sara, we aren't kids anymore!’ He said. She flicked him on the forehead, looking into his eyes.

  “You will always be the little boy I grew up with, even when we're both old farts with kids of our own someday.” She said, hugging him. He shook a little more but didn't cry.

  “Did anybody else see?” He whispered.

  “No, I even had a distraction to lure people away.” She whispered into his ear. He relaxed his shoulders a little more.

  “You really mean that shit about us even when we're old and grey,” Nick asked. Sara nodded, carefully running her hands through his hair, noticing the raw patches of missing hair.

  “I specifically said when we're old farts. You'll be lucky if you have hair,” they laughed, and he hugged her tighter.

  “Shut up and go to sleep. I might not be here in the morning. But I'll stay with you for a bit. Just make sure to be there for me if I need it, too. Like last time.” She winked, thinking of after the wake. Nick didn't move, but he visibly started to relax a little.

  “If I'm still here. They could hang,” Nick began. Sara shushed him and crawled into bed. They lay side by side, talking, Sara guiding the conversation away from the doom and gloom. He talked about The Den and the 404s, some stories about the orphans, and when he started to drift into talking about the fighting, Sara would roll over and hug him, covering his mouth with her shoulder. When his eyes were closed and his breathing deep and steady, Sara carefully extricated herself from the bed. She leaned over and brushed hair from his face. A part of her wanted to stay, but she was more help doing what she did best, diving through archives for information, with or without solid net access. She was going to find answers.

  I will be writing a new chapter or two next month at the earliest. Stating with a scene that will replace the last paragraph of this chapter so it is properly dialogue and more fluff of the two character talking about exposition of the universe pertaining to Nick and Sara. My bad for letting that slip, I man to do that before posting, I look forward o also sharing a short story if I am successful in my Novel in November goal.

  There will likely be a delay during November as I will be trying my hand at "Novel in November" challenge. 50,000 words in 30 days for a story. I think I need to add one chapter before continuing into existing chapters, but even if not it is a lot of editing and I want to focus on this new project next month.

  Note: there will be and edit of this chapter down the line. one of the retcons is the fact Sara knows the heirs, Jacket Klem's niece, and to some extent his partner that in a coma. Its not very important to this book, but someth8ing I do recognize that in the very least there needs to be some kind of acknowledgment that Sara knows Klem's Niece, and therefore would know him. One of the reasons I'm waiting to adjust this is waiting until I'm further into the prequel, where the heir and Jacket Klem, and hos human Jacket partner will actually get more characterization and page time. Finally the prologue chapter will also get a rework later, which will also determine what needs to fixed.