(Cargo Dock, Imbrium Station, Earth-Luna L4)

Aaron Corwin, Captain of the freighter Roses for Jolene, looked down at the activity in the cargo dock where his ship was being loaded. Annoyingly, was happened to be the operative word in that sentence.

"Ah, Captain, there you are."

"Dockmaster Anderson. Why have your men stopped loading my ship? I have a schedule to keep."

"Orders from the stationmaster I'm afraid. We're to unload the shipments for CS Manufacturing to make room for a last-minute booking. Here are the revised orders, authorized by your company's head office."

Corwin took the proferred tablet and checked the displayed document. Damnit, it checked out. Why couldn't the company at least have given him a heads up?

"OK, Dockmaster. There seems to be a lot of standing around, and my departure window won't wait for me. Why aren't we loaded yet?"

"We're waiting on the cargo to arrive. As to your departure window... that would be the next page, Captain. An unusal order that I think you might appreciate, authorized by Luna traffic control about 10 minutes ago."

Corwin flicked to the next page and scanned, his eyebrows climbing higher up his forehead as he took in the change in trajectory.

"Is this for real? I mean, of course it is, but who ever heard of a freighter getting cleared for this kind of orbit?"

"Not I Captain. But you know what they say about gift horses, right?"

"Yeah, don't play at equine dentistry. I get it." Corwin copied the documents to his personal computer and handed the tablet back to the Dockmaster. "Thank you. I'd better get down there before Paul starts breaking things."

On his way down to the deck of the docking bay Corwin couldn't stop wondering how he'd ended up with a shipment important enough for Luna to OK a slingshot. The disruption to Luna orbital traffic alone was enough for them to restrict slingshot orbits years ago. The added risk of a stray nut or bolt tearing a hole in one of the habitat domes meant that normally slinshots were for military craft only, and only in emergencies at that.

He stepped off the lift platform exactly as it reached the bay floor and strode in the direction of his First Officer, navigating mostly by the sound of Paul's angry voice.

"Holy shit, man, do you have any idea what the Captain's going to do when he sees you sitting on your arse with Jolene's belly open like this?"

"Got my orders."

Oh, this was going to go well. Paul was already in fine voice.

"Mister Desmond, a word."

Paul pulled up short, his mouth closing on the queue of angry words he'd been about to unleash on the damned cargo handlers. Captain only called him Mister Desmond when he was in trouble, or about to be.

"Uh, sure Captain. Something come up?"

"You could say that Paul. Company pulled a fast one on us, switched our cargo without bothering to mention it to either of us."

"Great. So, bean counters got a better offer and bumped someone. Unless they got us a better ship or a tighter orbit we're not going to deliver on time."

"Funny you should say that," Corwin replied. He smiled as he flipped a copy of their updated travel plans. "We're getting a fast-track to Ceres courtesy of Luna herself."

Paul whistled, suprise doing short and futile battle with a pleased smile. "Slingshot trajectory off Luna, that'll cut our transit time by a week easy. Who the hell are we shipping for that rates that kind of service?"

"Someone who's either too rich or too important to take the long way, and doesn't want to wait until the next slingshot window."

"Maybe something to do with this passenger list?"

Oh, crap, what didn't I read? Corwin pulled up the updated manifest and read to the bottom. Four passengers, all with a slew of icons for scientific qualifications. One with an Earth Origin restriction icon, followed by a special waiver and travel authorization link signed by SysSec.

"Oh hell. At Least you'll have time to lay in their supplies. I'll go organize quarters."

(Freighter Roses for Jolene, Imbrium Station, Earth-Luna L4)

Fortunately it was a little over an hour later when the passengers arrived. Corwin's crew had just finished preparing the passenger cabins for occupation when the ship's engineer called up from dockside to let him know they had arrived.

"Bring them up to the lounge please Henderson."

A couple of minutes later the engineer arrived with a group of 4 scientists.

"Delivery for you Captain," he quipped. "We're all done but the final loading."

"Good to hear, Henderson. Go find Paul will you? Let him know we're ready to button up as soon as their cargo is onboard."

Corwin turned to the passengers and found the obvious leader of the group. Good, that made things somewhat easier.

"Captain, my name is Doctor Eastman. These are my team - Doctors Roche, Carter and Geitzmann."

"Pleased to meet you Doctors," Corwin shook hands all round. "Please, have a seat and we'll go over the shipboard induction."

Once they were all settled Corwin gave them the standard ship-board safety briefing, the abridged version that covered all of the basics: Strap in when under acceleration. Listen to the crew. Don't fuck up. The usual.

"Any questions?"

None, apparently. Corwin scanned the faces, found one with the telltales of a nervous passenger.

"Mister... sorry, Doctor Roche. If you have issues with space travel my medical officer Doctor" - slight emphasis on the title - "Wilson will be happy to prescribe you a mild sedative or motion sickness medication as required."

The man got a stubborn look in his eye and looked like he was about to object when the team leader stepped in.

"Don't be a fool, Louis. You're not used to this. Take the damn meds."

Louis considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Oui Ted. Sorry Captain, this is all new to me."

No doubt. He'd been the one on the passenger list with the Earther flag.

"Everyone has a first time, Doctor. The meds help." Corwin turned to address the group.

"Once we clear the station we'll have a 15 minute transit burn to put us on trajectory. With thruster output and the current loadout we'll be pushing at about 2g. Once we're in the slot we'll make the run to Luna at 1g constant, so you'll be able to move around. We'll be doing a slingshot at 2.5g, with periselenium at about 7km above ground, so the view should be fantastic. Don't forget to wave to the people at Patroclus Dome as we whizz by."

That got a round of smiles and a few chuckles. One of the men frowned for a moment then spoke up.

"That's quite a trajectory Captain. Unusual for a freighter isn't it?"

"Quite. I've had our navigator go over it and she tells me it all checks out. I guess someone really wants you to get to Ceres as soon as possible."

"Oh the numbers are fine, no problem there. And yes, I suppose we are on a bit of a tight schedule."

Someone cleared us for an emergency slingshot, thought Corwin, that's a little more than 'a tight schedule.'

"Anyway, after the slingshot we'll be running at 1/2g the rest of the way except for turnover. You'll have plenty of warning on that. Just stay strapped in until you get the all clear, then you're free to go to your cabins or whatever you prefer."

One last glance around to make sure they were all taking it in.

"OK, my time is about up. That little thump you just felt was the cargo doors being sealed and pressurized. We have... 23 minutes until departure, so you're all free until then. Doctor Roche, do you need to visit Medical?"

The Earther shook his head. "Non, captain. I will be fine."

(Bridge, 20 minutes later)

Corwin did a final check of the bridge crew, first officer and both pilots signalling ready before he strapped himself into the command couch. All part of the ritual.

"Bridgette, how's the plot."

"Entered and locked, time synched with Imbrium and Luna, station scan shows path is clear of traffic and debris. Navigation is ready."

"Brad, helm report."

"Helm is active and slaved to navigation, engines are online and warmed up, we are ready for departure."

"Paul, clear our departure with Station Control."

"Roger that. Imbrium Control this is Flowers for Jolene reporting reader for departure on plan from cradle 3."

"Roger Jolene. Scans are clear, no traffic hazards in play. You are cleared for departure per plan."

"Imbrium Control reports good to go Captain."

"Take us out Brad."

"Roger Captain. Docking clamps releasing in 3... 2... 1... release."

The bottom fell out of our world, as it did every time. The old familiar feeling that heralded the start of the next trip.

"Clearing minimum safe distance. Navigation plot shows us in the slot, position and time."

Corwin brought up the ship-wide PA. "All hands, stand by for acceleration."

"Transit burn in 3... 2... 1... Burn."

Right on the first syllable the navigation system took control and activated the engines, pushing us all into our seats. Jolene was finally underway.