Cadet. It's not a rank used in Tayrey's organisation, but some of the planetary militias have them. A trainee. On her ship, there are protocols that govern the way a lieutenant should speak with an apprentice spacer - even a half-year lieutenant like Tayrey, not long out of her own training. Koutolika isn't Tradeline, so those laws and customs don't apply, but it's a reminder to her to be responsible.

She is always representing the Tradelines, after all, even somewhere so out-of-sector as this.

'Peace and prosperity to you, Cadet Koutolika,' she says, offering the formal greeting but dispensing with the customary handshake. They have other priorities. At their quick pace it isn't long before they will reach shelter, and Tayrey can pick up her bundle of dry clothes.

'It was the talking owl that warned me I wasn't dealing with anything usual,' she comments wryly. 'Still, so far as I know, travelers cannot go faster than light. There is the time dilation problem, and the closer you get to the limit, the worse it is. In my sector, our solution is with higher-dimensional shortcuts.'