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Hedrede started, visibly collected herself, and bowed.
"Hedrede has no further call upon Korval within Council," she said formally and resumed her seat.
Daav bowed, in his turn releasing Yedon, and sat with exquisite care.
Soon after, Speaker for Council ended the session and touched the chime to release them. Daav fussed
over gathering and regathering papers and by such schoolboy stratagems eventually left the chamber
alone, and last.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Liaden Scout" must now be seen as a misnomer, for to become a Scout is to become other than
Liaden. It is to turn one's face from the homeworld and enter a state of philosophy where all
custom, however alien, is accepted as equally just and fitting.
We are told by certain instructors that not everyone may aspire to nor all who aspire, attain
that particular degree of philosophical contrariness required of those who are said to have
"Scout's eyes".
For this we must rejoice, and allow the Scouts full honor for having in the past provided refuge
for the disenfranchised, the adventurous and the odd.
Excerpted from remarks made before the Council of Clans
by the chairperson of the Coalition to Abolish the Liaden Scouts
The woman behind the counter wore en embroidered badge on the shoulder of her leather jacket: A
bronze-winged, green-eyed dragon hovering protectively over a tree in full, luxuriant leaf. Beneath the
graphic was written, not the "I Dare" which would have completed the seal and identified the wearer as
one of Clan Korval's Line Direct, but "Jazla pen'Edrik, Dispatcher."
She heard Aelliana out with grave courtesy, hands folded upon the counter.
"As it happens, we do from time to time require the services of freelance pilots," she said at the
conclusion of Aelliana's rather breathless presentation. "May I see your license, please?"
She held it out, wishing bitterly that her hand did not tremble so, then folded both hands before her as the
dispatcher turned and fed the card into the reader.
Korval was ships, everyone knew that. No clan owned so many; no other clan or company employed so
many pilots. It had always been so stretching back to the very ship, the very pilots, who had brought
Liadens safely out of the horror of the Migration.
Clan Korval took pilots and piloting very seriously, indeed. Thus Aelliana had gone first to Korval's
Solcintra Dispatch Office to request that her name be added to the list of pilots available to fly.
"Aelliana Caylon," the dispatcher said, eyes intent on the reader's screen. "Provisional second
class quite recent. One assignment completed on behalf of Binjali Repair Shop. Master Pilot dea'Cort
lists himself as reference. So." She tapped a sequence into her keyboard, retrieved Aelliana's card and
held it out with a grave smile.
"I shall be very pleased to add your name to our roster, Pilot Caylon. May I know the best means of
contacting you?"
"Chonselta Technical College," Aelliana recited the number of her private office line, "or a message might
be left at Binjali's " She repeated the code Jon dea'Cort had given her. "You may wish to note that I am
owner of a Class-A single-hold."
"So," the dispatcher said again, fingers dancing briefly across the keys. "Please contact this office
immediately your certification changes, pilot." She glanced up. "I advise that the possibility of a
second-class provisional attaining work from this office is not high. That you own a ship is of value; that
you have already successfully completed one assignment is likewise of value," she smiled. "As is, of
course, Master dea'-Cort's word."
Aelliana swallowed, face stiff.
The dispatcher inclined her head. "If it is not amiss, pilot, I offer advice."
"I should be grateful for advice," Aelliana returned sincerely, clutching her license in cold fingers.
"Register with the Guild Office on Navigation Street. Tell them that you fly your own ship and are willing
to carry a hold-full or a courier pack. Ask to be placed on the Port Master's Roster." She tipped her
head, birdlike. "They may not wish to do so until you have achieved solid second-class. But ask. And
when you lose provisional, go back and ask again."
Aelliana bowed. "That seems sound advice. I thank you."
"No thanks due," the dispatcher assured her. "Good lift, pilot."
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