She unwound her legs, stretching them when she leaned forward to touch her torso to her thighs. "I trust we'll survive?"

"With these clever new equations to help, no problem," Rasta waved her away.

"All right then, I'll go convince Freddie sleeping this off will be better for him in the long run. It's only one day. He shouldn't have any aftereffects."

Greta went down into the living quarters, turning into a small alcove between the lab and their individual cabins. Knocking on the third door at the end of the narrow hallway, she waited for a response.

"Go away." Freddie's voice was hoarse and barely audible.

"Permission to enter," she paid him respect for his privacy.

"You'll come in anyway, so you might as well Captain," his terse response told her more than seeing him face to face.

"I'll give you a choice, suffer in there or let me put you in stasis for the next 25 hours." She called through the poly carbonate door.

"Why now?"

"Winds are going up to Mach 4. I know the hull vibrations will drive you into over stimulation, it could be close to fatal if you can't keep hydrated." She knew Scilari had succumbed to this syndrome before.

"Shit!"

"Yeah, shit is exactly it," she responded wryly.

"Get the sprays ready. I'll clean up and be there in five minutes." Freddie gave in.

>>>>>>>>>

Greta took an anti anxiety dose before sleeping. She half wanted stasis like she arranged for her insect like crewman, but she had to maintain some sense of command. Rasta seemed impervious to the tingling high frequency harmonics rippling through the ship's hull. It raised the fine hair on her arms, and the muscles between her shoulders tensed until the knot ached like she bench pressed too much weight in the gym.

She opened an eyelid and gazed around her compact cabin, trying to sense what had changed. A soft bell pinged in her ear, and she looked at her wrist unit. Storm abating. Winds down to 200 knots and dropping. She swung long legs over the edge of her bunk and put bare feet down on the plascrete floor. No more tickling hum. If she was right, it was the absence of supersonic sound irritation that woke her.

She pulled both layers of her noise canceling ear protectors off, relieved to know the worst of the sonic dissonance had abated. She wiggled between her storage chest and the desk to push open the door to her cleansing station. They were allowed exactly five minutes of water, so she hit the button for 30 seconds to wet herself down. Squirting biodegradable soap into her hands she reached for the sponge and quickly lathered her fair skin. Thank the space gods, the instant heater worked. The thing was finicky as a newborn snake.

Two minutes of pounding warm jets from every angle relieved the cramped muscles in her shoulders and neck, another two minutes had her hair clean. Turning to the left she pushed the blue button and warm air buffeted her until she was dry, sucking the damp air with it to be recycled, recovering every drop of water.

Running a brush through her short hair she squirted a little jojoba oil into her hands and worked it through to protect against the dry atmosphere. Less than twenty percent humidity even with all the lovely pools and streams where they landed.

Ping. Her personal communications screen lit with a small green dot. She'd assigned the color to the leader of the indigenous sentient species. Still comfortably naked, she blocked the video feed and answered the second ping, this one was red.

"Captain, you have an invitation to visit. First contact is in seven hours. Our little crystal friends say winds will be down to fifteen knots by then." Rasta reported.

"Accept for me, please. I'll be up in a few minutes. I'm starting Freddie on the wake up cycle on the way by," Greta told him, pulling a fresh uniform from her chest. Effective use of color and geometric design made her slender body look like it was some how more than it was. The illusion was valuable in certain situations.

Greta took a breakfast biscuit and a mug of tea with her up to command. Rasta's eyes were red, his shoulders hunched against exhaustion.

"Stand down man. Hit your bunk for at least eight hours."

"Couldn't leave this unsupervised. I had no idea air could move like that." He yawned hugely showing even white teeth lightly stained by the coffee he preferred to her tea.

"Go," she pointed to the stairwell. "I expect Freddie will be up in three to four hours. I'll leave him in charge. I'm taking the explorer to the coordinates the honored leader of Benal sent to us."

"You shouldn't be going alone. What if they aren't as friendly as we think?"

"Any entity that would warn us about a deadly storm and help us to improve our equipment to survive it, is friendly." Greta shook her head at Rasta's suspicious comment. "Now get out of here. You're too tired to make sense."

She watched her cartographer push himself up. His steps carefully placed with precision to keep him upright. He never admitted it when he'd overextended himself, but her trained eye saw the symptoms.

"Remember to drink something before you get some rest," she call after him.

"Yes, mother," came the sarcastic response.

Her fingers hit the correct buttons on her armrest, and the last message from the planet's leader appeared.

YOU ARE MOST WELCOME ON OUR HUMBLE PLANET. YOUR SHIP IS OF GREAT INTEREST. THE FIRST ADVANCED ENOUGH TO BE ENHANCED BY OUR ENGINEERING TEAM AND SURVIVE A MACH STORM. CONGRATULATIONS.

Her fingers flew as she responded.

I am grateful for your assistance. We were close to succumbing to the winds when they increased in the last 24 hours. Your programming is brilliant. May we share it with our other exploration and research ships?"

YES. WE HAVE BEEN TRAPPED UNDERGROUND BY THESE STORMS FOR CENTURIES. THERE IS NO OPPORTUNITY TO LAUNCH THE SHIPS WE HAVE HERE WAITING FOR TESTING. BUT THAT IS A SUBJECT FOR FURTHER DIPLOMACY. WE ARE SURE YOU WILL BRING MORE VISITORS FOR US.

My mission is for three weeks. We are 4 days in. The ship that dropped us here, will be back to recover this research vessel in 17 of your days. We will leave an ambassador and with your permission, leave a communications satellite in orbit to facilitate efforts to introduce you to three races which explore the space we share.

EXCELLENT. TODAY, WE TOUR OUR CITY, WE WILL SHOW YOU OUR COMMERCIAL DISTRICT. BRING A WAY TO TAKE THINGS BACK TO YOUR SHIP. THE MARKET PLACE IS IMMENSE. ***

Did your crystals report on our first exploration?

AFFIRMATIVE. WILL YOU ARRIVE IN THE SAME VEHICLE?

Yes. I will leave an hour before our scheduled meeting time.

WE ARE HONORED, CAPTAIN. WE AWAIT THE MEETING WITH ANTICIPATION.

Greta sat back, images flashing by as the Benal leader gave her an idea of what to expect. Her explorer would be dwarfed. Great transport vehicles spewed goods into open loading docks. Commercial retail, at least that is what she assumed, received them. Glimpses of what looked like clothing, artistic adornments, and personal enhancements tumbled past her eyes.

Another section dedicated to building materials and home improvement. She saw swaths of materials, both fabric and something more. Sturdy sheets easily assembled into modules. She couldn't wait to wander through the entire place. Could a single afternoon give her enough time?

She looked over to see Freddie's head appearing at the top of the stairs. He'd been quick to recover from stasis. She should have remembered his insectoid metabolism eased his return to consciousness. Scilari took twice the dose to put under and half the time to wake up.

"Captain, Rasta is sleeping. He did drink a liter of water before hand, I saw the empty bottle, and he's not pleased with your babysitting as usual."

"I'd rather have him snarling at me, than out because he didn't take care of himself," Greta said.

"What's that?" Freddie's multi faceted eyes reflected the last still image she'd left on the screen.

"Where I'm going this afternoon. I'm sorry I can't take you with me, but someone has to man the ship, and Rasta will be out for at least eight hours. I made him promise."

"I'm out of touch. I hate stasis."

"You hate vibration sickness worse," Great said with a grim smile.

"I know, I know, compromise is sometimes not worth it though." Freddie shook his head.

"The communication file is open. Go over it. This is an astounding first contact. I'm hoping the friendly help we've had, isn't a ruse to lure us to a bad end. I'm trusting my gut on this one Freddie."

"Your gut is famous Captain. Go with it. I'll prepare the information packet for our home ship. How bad did the storm get?"

"Mach 4.5 winds. We should have been blown to the other side of the planet, but our hosts sent a program compatible with our computers to enhance our stabilisers. Rasta was impressed."

"Then go on your mission with an open heart. Oh, and wear the formal gown. I think from what I see, these people admire clothing and adornments. Your Captain's amulet and the ring would be a good idea."

"My thoughts exactly. I'm going to clean up and prepare. The bridge is yours."