"No, we don't have time for a shore leave!" Dr. Doppler snapped. Jim winced from his hiding place just outside Captain Amelia's stateroom. So much for that idea.

"If you don't mind, Doctor," Captain Amelia said icily, "I will make my own decisions regarding my ship's crew. That said," she went on as she turned to Silver, who had asked her for the leave, "I do think he's right. We're on rather a tight schedule, you know." Despite his disappointment, Jim had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from snickering as Doppler mimicked her sarcastically behind her back, in an impression that would have made Morph proud.

"A' course, ma'am," Silver said in that deferential tone Jim hated. He had his hat off too, which was a big flashing sign that he was trying to suck up to the captain. "It's just that the lads are gettin' a bit tired, ye know, an' a break would do 'em some good."

Apparently Doppler just couldn't stand letting Amelia make her own decisions. "We're paying them more than enough not to get tired!" he retorted.

"Well, actually," Silver hedged, "it's Jimbo I'm thinkin' about." Me? Jim wondered.

"What about him?" Doppler asked nervously. "He's not in trouble again, is he? I am responsible for him, and--"

"No, no, nothin' like that," Silver assured him, even as Jim fumed over the fact that Doppler was only concerned about him causing trouble. "I just think he might need a little break from spacin', ye know?" He gave Doppler a rather particular look. "Ye wouldn't want him turnin' out like the rest a' the crew from spendin' too much time in space, now would ye?"

Doppler turned rather pale. "Erm, well. . . that is a valid concern. Sarah would kill me."

"Sarah?" Amelia arched a narrow eyebrow. "Who's Sarah?"

"Jim's mother," Doppler said distractedly. "I promised her I'd take care of him. Maybe you're right, Silver," he muttered as he turned back to the cook. "Too much time away from civilized people could be a bad influence."

"You and Sarah should have thought of that before you sent a child on this voyage!" Amelia snapped. Jim almost gave away his hiding place at that; it was bad enough that Doppler treated him like a kid without Amelia actually calling him one. "I said at the outset that there would be no special treatment for him. Scheduling a shore leave just for the cabin boy's sake is certainly special treatment. In fact," she went on with a sharp look at Silver, "I'm surprised you suggested it." A very faint smile curled over her lips. "Don't tell me you have a soft spot for Master Hawkins."

Jim felt his cheeks flush, even though Silver folded his arms and said gruffly, "It's got nothin' to do with special treatment. With all due respect, doctor, I just seem to be takin' a lot more care a' the lad than ye are. And since he seems to be my responsibility now, I don't want his mum comin' after me for lettin' him turn spacer. 'Specially from what I've heard about her."

"If you're suggesting that I've been remiss in my duties--" Doppler began to rant, until Amelia silenced him by holding his muzzle closed with one gloved hand.

"All right," she told Silver. "If you really feel it's so important, I suppose we can schedule a few hours' leave. We'll be passing quite near to an inhabited planet tomorrow, so I'll tell Mr. Arrow to relay the order to stop."

"Thank you, ma'am," Silver said effusively, all deference again. "That's right generous of ye. I'm sure all the lads'll be glad to hear it."

After he was certain that victory had been achieved, Jim quickly moved away from the door to the stateroom. Silver had left him to swab the deck while he petitioned the captain for shore leave, so Jim grabbed the mop and took to swabbing with a vengeance. He was just in time, for an instant later, Dr. Doppler came storming out of the stateroom, apparently after some last snide comment from Captain Amelia. Silver followed him, placing his hat back on his head before approaching Jim.

"Well?" Jim asked, feigning curiosity. "Do we get a shore leave?"

"Aye. As ye know full well," Silver said, giving him a severe look tempered by a slight smirk he couldn't manage to hide.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim asked innocently as he scrubbed at the deck with his mop.

"Don't be thinkin' ye can fool me, lad," Silver chuckled. "Ye were far too interested in this shore leave to just leave it all in my hands. I don't know where ye was hidin', but I'm sure ye heard it all."

"You can't blame me for being interested," Jim retorted. "My birthday's tomorrow, and I really wasn't looking forward to spending it swabbing the deck."

"I know that; ye told me last week, remember?" Silver thumped him on the back as he limped past, back towards the galley. "Why d'ye think I asked fer the leave, anyway? I'd be the last one to complain if ye became a spacer-- I could use the help."

Jim's cheeks grew warm a second time as he returned to his chore. He remembered, he thought happily. Between that pleasant realization and thoughts of visiting an unfamiliar world on the morrow, he barely minded his chores at all.

The next day, the Legacy landed on the inhabited planet Captain Amelia had mentioned: a small, temperate world called Kinmoku. During their approach, Jim had overheard Mr. Arrow assuring a rather worried Doctor Doppler that the planet was peaceful and most certainly safe, due to its history of always declaring neutrality in galactic conflicts.

"It's too peaceful perhaps," Amelia had murmured, barely loud enough for Jim to hear. "If a hostile force does attack Kinmoku someday, they'll be helpless."

Once the ship was docked in Kinmoku's harbor, Amelia dismissed the crew until the next morning. Jim had never before seen them move as fast as they did when they scattered from the ship into the streets near the port, most of the males talking eagerly about finding girls with whom to spend their shore leave.

Doppler had ordered Jim to remain on board until he himself disembarked with Captain Amelia and Mr. Arrow. Jim expected Silver to leave with the rest of the crew, and he was surprised (and to be honest, a little relieved) when the cyborg hung back.

"I'm sure ye'll be wantin' to do some researchin' about this planet," Silver wheedled when Doppler told him he could go with the rest of the crew. "And Jimbo here'd just get in yer way. I'll keep an eye on the lad until dinner, at least." He clapped his mechanical hand onto Jim's shoulder.

"Well," Doppler hesitated, "I did want to visit the astronomical library here. . . ." He looked at Amelia nervously, as if for confirmation that he wouldn't be slacking off if he pawned Jim off on someone else for the evening.

Amelia apparently interpreted the look as an excuse to take over. "I don't exactly trust you to keep him out of trouble," she said to Silver, folding her arms. "But I trust you even less," she went on with a sharp look at Doppler.

"Wh-what--" the doctor spluttered indignantly.

"You'll get so wrapped up in your research, Master Hawkins could be on another planet entirely by the time you notice he's missing." Jim thought he could detect the hint of a smile on the captain's face. "And I suppose you have no objections?" she asked Jim.

"Of course not! Erm, ma'am."

"Go on, then." Amelia waved them off with a slender gloved hand. "But be back here by sundown. Perhaps it is special treatment, but I'll buy you dinner for your birthday." This time, she did smile.

"Wow, yes ma'am!" Jim enthused, already excited by the prospect of a free meal that didn't consist of standard ship's fare.

"From yer tone, it sounds like yer a mite tired a' my humble cookin'," Silver remarked as he, Jim, and Morph left the ship.

"It's not that," Jim protested, shoving his hand into his pocket so he could cross his fingers to counteract the white lie. "It's just-- well, if we eat at a restaurant, I can get cake for my birthday," he finally came up with. "I love cake."

"Fair enough," Silver chuckled. They paused around the corner of one street, just out of sight of the Legacy. "Now I'm sure ye don't really wanna to be chaperoned the whole day, so if ye want me to lose ye, I won't tell nobody."

"Nobody!" Morph echoed, darting back and forth between them.

"Oh," Jim said in disappointment. "Well, I guess you don't want to be stuck babysitting. From what Hands was saying, there're a lot of pretty girls on this planet."

Silver laughed outright. "Pretty ain't a' no account where most of this crew's concerned. Undiscriminatin's more like it. Cheap don't hurt either." He glanced down at Jim and sobered a little. "Uh, but don't pay me no mind, lad. What I mean is. . . uh. . . ."

"I know what you mean," Jim said with a roll of his eyes. He pushed his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and half-turned away from the cyborg. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a naïve kid anymore."

"No, ye ain't naïve. Yer innocent. There is a difference," Silver replied. As it sometimes did, the seriousness and intelligence in his voice startled Jim. The cook put his hand, the organic one this time, on Jim's shoulder again. "And ye ain't a kid, but yer the youngest hand on this voyage by far. That ain't the problem though."

"What's the problem, then?" Jim tried to sound sullen, although his belligerence was already melting away.

"The problem is, I keep forgettin' just how young ye are. And fer the record, I ain't plannin' on visitin' any girls, with or without ye, so don't think I'm tryin' to get rid a' ye. If ye wanna stick with me, I'll be glad to have ye."

"Really?" Jim looked up at him skeptically and was reassured when he saw the affable expression on Silver's face.

"A' course, lad." He squeezed Jim's shoulder gently; Jim felt his heart flutter a little at even that small demonstration of affection. However, Silver immediately tempered it with humor when he let go and said facetiously, "I need someone to help me carry all the provisions I gotta buy. Might as well stock up when we're here."

As they walked further inland in search of food vendors, a deliciously sweet, floral aroma reached them.

"Wow, what's that smell?" Jim asked.

"It's from the sweet olive trees-- tea olives, some people call 'em," Silver explained. "Kinmoku's famous for them. I think they smell a little too strong, myself, but most people like it." He pointed out a row of the trees planted right along the sidewalk by the thoroughfare. Morph promptly shifted into a miniature version of one of the olive trees and planted himself on Jim's shoulder.

They spent most of the day restocking the Legacy's food supplies, which entailed a couple trips back to the ship. It was rather more work than Jim had hoped to do that day, but he didn't mind very much.

An odd thing had happened over the weeks Jim had spent on the Legacy: he had gone from resenting Silver's command to respecting, and at times even enjoying, it. At first Jim had deliberately shirked his duties and took vindictive pleasure in the shouting matches that inevitably took place between himself and Silver as a result. However, that still meant he eventually had to do the work, often late at night and after the dirty dishes or barnacles or sludge on the deck had multiplied due to his procrastination.

When he realized this, Jim had turned to getting his revenge on the cyborg by doing his best instead of his worst. He'd quit complaining and instead turned to his work with a sullen determination to deny Silver the pleasure of yelling at him for a job poorly done. Silver had responded with just as much sullenness, barely speaking to him at all since he no longer had the need to shout, save to give him more work than ever.

Well, that's that, Jim had thought one evening as he scrubbed his way through a mountain of dishes. He yells at me if I do it wrong, and gives me more work if I do it right. Nothing I do will please him. For some reason, the thought depressed him. He was used to disappointing people like his mother and Doctor Doppler, but somehow, he had ended up wanting Silver's approval more than theirs.

Looks like I'm never going to get it, Jim supposed as he gave the large stew pot a last polish, then slumped over it in exhaustion. He just doesn't like me.

Wiped out from a hard day's work of chores, Jim dozed off right there on the stew pot. When he stirred some hours later, his back was stiff from his awkward position. As he sat up, wincing, he realized that someone had draped a coat over his shoulders. He was surprised, but not as surprised as when he put his hand to the rough fabric and recognized it as belonging to Silver.

By the time evening approached on Kinmoku, Silver was finally satisfied that they had enough provisions. Although Jim had grown more used to the scent of the sweet olive trees, he was still startled by the overwhelmingly sweet smell whenever they went inland from the ports. He liked it, despite Silver's opinion that it was cloying, and just before they returned to the Legacy to meet Captain Amelia, Jim stopped at a vendor's stall to buy a small flask of sweet-olive-scented perfume for his mother.

At the ship, Jim learned that Doctor Doppler had spent a blissful day ensconced in Kinmoku's astronomical library, while Amelia and Mr. Arrow had toured the small port and some of its most impressive ships.

"I'm positively famished," the captain declared companionably, though Jim, eyeing her wasp-thin waist, couldn't really imagine her ever eating much. "The harbormaster recommended a restaurant, unless you already have something in mind, Master Hawkins." Jim assured her that he didn't.

"I guess I'll be shovin' off after the rest a' the crew then," Silver said humbly. "Ye enjoy yer dinner, lad."

"What, you're not coming with us?" Jim protested, ignoring the glances Amelia and Doppler exchanged.

"Oh, the likes a' me ain't fit to dine with the cap'n or the first mate. Or our esteemed backer," Silver added when Doppler spluttered indignantly at being left out.

"Oh come on!" Jim turned to Amelia. "He can come with us, can't he?"

Amelia looked as if he were asking her to turn over command of the ship to Morph. "Erm, well. . . I suppose there's no harm in it, for this occasion." She appeared to be stifling a sigh as she turned to the first mate. "Mr. Arrow, I believe I saw the majority of the crew going into that pub on the corner. Would you go inform them of where we'll be dining, in case there's an emergency?"

"Certainly, ma'am. I'll join you shortly."

As the stolid mate stalked towards the pub, Amelia firmly turned them in the opposite direction and led them to one of the nicest looking restaurants Jim had ever seen. It was a few streets inland from the harbor, and it overlooked a park filled with the fragrant sweet olive trees.

They were ushered by a tuxedoed maître d' into an interior that made Jim nervous. He had never been inside a building that elegant before, and he felt that he would break something just by walking on the plush carpet. Amelia and Doppler seemed perfectly at ease, and he glanced up at Silver, hoping that the cyborg felt as out of place as he did. Silver, however, had somehow assumed a mien of elegance without a hint of pretentiousness about it-- it seemed to come naturally to him. One would have thought that he was the captain instead of Amelia. It made Jim feel even worse, and he slouched after the three adults, demoralized.

After they were seated, Jim was eyeing the menu and its astronomical prices a bit nervously when a great commotion at the restaurant's entrance distracted him. The cause of the furor proved to be a young humanoid girl who couldn't be much older than Jim himself. She was already quite beautiful, with orange-red hair looped on either side of her head and hanging in two ponytails that reached her knees. Her gown, the same color as her hair, was decorated with scads of sweet olive blossoms. Jim watched in amazement as the maître d' bowed profusely to her, as did every person she passed as she entered.

"Who is she?" Jim murmured.

"My goodness." Doppler adjusted his glasses and peered at the girl. "I saw her portrait at the library-- she's the princess of Kinmoku! I had no idea that she actually appeared in public like this!"

"So much for us getting good service," Amelia said dryly as she crossed her long legs and sat back in her chair. Nevertheless, a waitress soon came to take their drink orders (though she did stare over the top of Jim's head at the princess the entire time). Jim felt more out of place than ever when he realized that he was the only one in the party not old enough to drink.

After the waitress was gone, Morph, eager to be the center of attention, turned into a replica of the princess and pranced up and down the length of the table on Silver and Jim's side. Silver leaned over and whispered to Jim, "Guess that's what they meant about pretty girls," with a chuckle.

"Mmn," Jim grumbled noncommittally.

Even the impassive Mr. Arrow was impressed with the girl when he joined them a moment later. Jim boredly tuned out the ensuing discussion of the royal family and looked over at the princess' table. She was accompanied by three other girls, apparently her ladies-in-waiting. All seemed to be younger, perhaps only eleven or twelve standard years old, yet they behaved with more decorum than Jim had seen in many adults. At least, so he thought until the smallest one, a petite girl with white-blonde hair and wide yellow-green eyes, noticed him watching them. She stuck her tongue out at him, then turned her dainty nose up in the air and refused to look his way again. For the first time since they had arrived in the restaurant, Jim smiled. Some kinds of girls were the same galaxy-wide.

He soon forgot about the princess and her guardians; his dinner was of much greater interest. Everything on the menu was a vegetarian dish, but that didn't affect the quality of the food in the least. Jim was quite satisfied with his entrée of stuffed mushrooms, even though he almost bit into Morph by accident when the shapeshifter decided to mimic one.

"Ye got room fer dessert?" Silver whispered teasingly as Jim finished the last bite of mushroom. "I'm sure the cap'n's pocketbook can handle it."

Jim grinned. "Oh yeah. Told you I liked cake."

"Did I hear something about dessert?" Amelia arched one of her long eyebrows and gave them a look almost as sharp as her hearing. "I'm not running a charity, you know, Silver-- you shouldn't be so free with my funds."

"Actually, considering that I am backing this voyage," Doppler interrupted, "he's being free with my funds. But since this is a special occasion, I suppose some cake is in order."

Ignoring the glare Amelia gave him, Doppler flagged down their waitress. "A piece of cake for the young man's birthday," he declared with an air of generosity.

Jim cringed slightly as she darted off with the order. "You didn't have to tell her it was my birthday. It makes me sound like a little kid."

"Nonsense," Doppler assured him.

Jim slumped down in his chair as the adults' conversation turned once more to the royal family and the recent betrothal of the princess.

"I heard that she's only sixteen," Amelia said distastefully. "Far too young to be getting married."

"But she's royalty!" Doppler protested. "Marriages at a young age are common among royal families. Besides, the average age of marriage on Kinmoku is seventeen."

"That doesn't matter!" Amelia shot back. "If that's the tradition, the tradition is wrong. She's too young to know what she wants out of life! It's like. . . like Hawkins here declaring that he's found his soul mate!"

Jim stared at her, feeling his cheeks grow warm. At his shocked look, all four adults chuckled.

"He looks rather like he thinks he has," Doppler said with a smile. "Jim, do you have a girl back home I didn't know about?"

"No," Jim said indignantly.

"Aw, c'mon lad, don't tell me ye've been holdin' out on me," Silver teased him. "What's the lass like?"

Jim narrowed his eyes and glared at him, furious that Silver too would mock him. "There isn't any 'lass.' And I agree with Captain Amelia completely; sixteen's too young to get married. The last thing I care about is love."

Amelia laughed lightly. "Silver, quit teasing him if he agrees with me."

"Aye, cap'n," Silver muttered. However, all signs of joviality had vanished and he gave Jim a rather dark look before turning back to the others.

Only a moment later, Jim saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye. When he turned his head, he spotted Scroop and a couple other members of the Legacy's crew at the doorway to the restaurant. They were apparently trying to get in, and the maître d' was having none of it. Scroop gestured angrily at Jim's table, then the maître d' started for them with the arachnid close behind him.

"I believe we have company, ma'am," Mr. Arrow murmured.

"Madam, pardon the interruption but this. . . gentleman claims he must speak with you," the maître d' said in hushed tones when he and Scroop had reached the table.

"Yes, what is it?" Amelia said, giving Scroop an impatient look.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your meal, ma'am," Scroop said in sibilant-- and, Jim thought, highly insincere-- tones. "But I need to have a few words with Silver if you don't mind. You see, we all assumed he'd be dining with us tonight. I had no idea he and the cabin boy'd have the honor of attending you."

Jim gritted his teeth as Amelia said brusquely, "All right, but be quick about it. You're causing a scene."

Silver got up from the table and walked a few feet away with Scroop, who immediately engaged him in a heated argument. As if Silver teasing me about a girlfriend weren't enough to ruin the evening, Jim thought morosely, he has to show up.

Jim was convinced that the evening couldn't get any worse when he heard the sound of measured clapping coming from the doors at the back of the restaurant leading to the kitchen. He glanced towards the doors with a vague interest that quickly turned to horror when he saw most of the wait staff emerging with a cake. . . and heading for him.

At the Benbow, Sarah had often done the same for any child who happened to be dining there on his or her birthday. Jim had always been embarrassed at having to help sing, but he figured it couldn't be as bad as being the one sung to and being the center of attention of everyone in the inn. And that could hardly compare to being sung to in a ritzy restaurant with Silver, Scroop, and a princess watching.

"Noooo," Jim groaned, sinking lower in his chair as the staff approached, belting out the "Happy Birthday" song at the top of their lungs. Silver and Scroop had turned to watch the commotion, and Scroop was snickering. Jim glanced at the princess' table hoping that the girls there weren't paying any attention. No such luck; all four were watching, the white-haired girl shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Your cake, sir," Jim's waitress said cheerfully as she set down the cake, as if she hadn't just caused the most embarrassing moment of his life. "Enjoy!"

Jim mumbled something unintelligible and stared at the innocuous piece of chocolate cake as the staff went back to the kitchen.

"Well, go on," Amelia coaxed him. "After all that, I want to know how it tastes."

Jim sighed and gave the table of girls one more look. The princess had gone back to her dinner, but the blonde was still watching. She stuck out her tongue again. Jim glared at her and stuck his fork into the cake to take a belligerent bite.

"It's good," he muttered. It was actually delicious, but he had a hard time enjoying it. He glanced up several times at Silver and Scroop's conversation. Once, the arachnid was looking straight at him with a faint smirk and gesturing with one claw. Jim felt his face flush again, and he lowered his eyes to his cake. Finally, though, Scroop left, and Silver returned to the table.

"No trouble, I hope?" Amelia asked the cyborg crisply.

"It's sorted," was Silver's only reply. He sounded about as happy as Jim felt. Thankfully, the meal was soon over, and they stood up to leave after Amelia had paid the bill. Jim walked towards the exit, head down with Morph on his shoulder. However, as he passed near the princess' table, Morph had other ideas besides leaving. He had apparently spotted something delectable on one of the girls' plates, for he darted away from Jim towards them.

"Morph, no!" Jim yelped, but the shapeshifter didn't pay him one bit of attention. Jim ran over to the table just as Morph dove into the dessert plate of one of the princess' attendants, a tall brunette. She had been eating a flan, but by the time Jim got there, there was nothing left.

"Eeeeeek!" shrieked the blonde, throwing her hands up in the air. "What is that thing?"

"Shut up, Yaten," the black-haired third attendant said with a tired air, as if she had said it many times before.

"I'm so sorry," Jim panted as he snatched Morph up from the plate. He wasn't sure whether he should apologize to the princess, the now dessert-less attendant, or all four of them. "He. . . gets out of control sometimes."

"It's all right," the brunette said calmly. "I wasn't going to eat it all anyway."

"Hey, he's cute. Lemme see him!" The black-haired girl stood up and reached for Morph, leaning over the table and knocking over her water glass.

"Seiya!" hissed the princess. She stood, looking a bit embarrassed herself. "I should be the one apologizing. We aren't giving you a very good impression of our planet. You are from off-world, aren't you?"

"Yes." Jim let Seiya take Morph and watched nervously as she poked and tickled him.

"I am Kakyuu, princess of Kinmoku," the orange-haired girl said with a little bow. "These are my guardians: Seiya, Taiki, and Yaten."

"I'm Jim Hawkins," Jim said. He tried an awkward bow in return, which only served to make Yaten smirk at him. "And that's Morph. I'm really, really sorry he bothered you."

"It's not a bother. Seiya's right; he's cute." Kakyuu reached out a graceful hand to pat Morph on the head, and the shapeshifter cooed happily. "Is today your birthday?" the princess asked as she turned back to Jim.

He flushed all over again. "Yes. I. . . really didn't want the whole restaurant to know about it, though."

Kakyuu smiled. "And why did you come here to our planet on this day?" Jim explained about the shore leave, and she nodded. "I see."

"That sounds so exciting," Seiya interrupted, "flying around the galaxy like that. Princess Kakyuu never leaves Kinmoku, so we don't get to do anything exciting." She said it sulkily but with a teasing smile at Kakyuu.

"That's fine with me," Yaten sniffed. "Less work for us."

"Well, if I ever do leave, I know you'll be right there to protect me," Kakyuu smiled. She scooped Morph up from Seiya's hands and returned him to Jim. "I wish you could spend the rest of your birthday with us, but I'm afraid we're here on business. An emissary from another planet is supposed to meet us here after dinner."

"Can I come hang out with you instead?" Seiya asked Jim abruptly, still with the playful smirk. "Emissaries are boring."

"Are you kidding?" Yaten said in a huff. "Lady Galaxia's supposed to be one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy! I want to see her."

"If our princess meets with her, so do we." Taiki spoke quietly but firmly.

"I really should go," Jim assured them with a glance back at the rest of his dinner party who were waiting for him near the door. "I've got to get back to my ship. But it was nice meeting you, and your planet is beautiful."

Kakyuu beamed at him, looking as joyous as if he had praised her instead. "Thank you. I wish I had a birthday gift for you." She put her hand over his and leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Safe travels."

"I. . . th-thanks," Jim stammered, feeling his face grow hot.

"Hmph," sniffed Yaten.

"Hey, why don't you give him a kiss too, little peacock?" Seiya chuckled.

"I wouldn't even consider it," the blonde retorted.

Her prim, arrogant demeanor was too funny to resist. Jim looked over his shoulder to be sure the others from the Legacy weren't watching, then he stepped past Kakyuu and, leaning down, pecked Yaten on the lips. Seiya collapsed in her chair, stricken with laughter as Yaten stared up at him.

"How dare you?" she gasped. She grabbed the front of his shirt in her little hand-- then jerked him downwards and kissed him back. "Now get back to your ship!"

Jim tried not to chuckle as he bid farewell to the princess and returned to his group. They didn't seem to have witnessed the kissing, which relieved him greatly. As he followed the four adults to the door, a tall woman entered the restaurant and stood in the doorway, forcing them to wait for her to pass. She practically glowed, for she was dressed in a gown of white and had bright wavy locks that reached her ankles. Her hair was a mixture of golden and auburn strands almost too dazzling to look at. She glanced around with an imperious look, then her amber eyes focused on the maître d'.

"May I help you, madam?" he asked, looking at her with understandable wonder.

"I am Lady Galaxia," she announced, "here to see the princess of Kinmoku."

"Yes, madam, right this way." As the maître d' led Galaxia off, the adults left the restaurant, leaving Jim to catch up. Jim looked over his shoulder once more at the beautiful emissary. She had reached Kakyuu's table where the young princess stood to greet her. As Kakyuu bowed to her guest, Galaxia turned her elegant head and looked straight at Jim. The look in her eyes-- as if she were appraising him with complete, inhuman detachment-- sent a thread of ice down his spine. Then she turned away, dismissing him as inconsequential.

As Jim followed the others outside, he pitied Princess Kakyuu. Whatever the meeting was about, he had the feeling that Kinmoku was going to get the worse end of the deal.

Jim lagged behind the adults as they made their way back to the ship. The peace of the inland streets began to fade, replaced with more and more clamor from various bars and taverns the closer they got to the harbor. As they passed the pub where most of the Legacy's crew had gathered, Jim spotted Scroop, Oxy, and Moron outside with a couple of Kinmokuan girls. Jim had to smirk at first when he realized that Oxy and Moron were acting as a team, and their girl of choice seemed to have no idea that the spacer before her was really two people.

His smile faded though when he looked at Scroop. The arachnid was watching him with a cold, mocking look, even at the expense of ignoring the dark-haired, thin-lipped girl he was with. Jim felt his face grow hot as he looked away, staring fixedly at Mr. Arrow's broad back in front of him.

When they reached the Legacy, Captain Amelia, Arrow, and Doppler shut themselves in the state room to plan the next leg of the voyage; despite her apparent enjoyment of dinner, Amelia was already complaining that the unexpected stop had put them behind schedule. Jim started to follow Silver down to the galley, but the cook stopped him.

"Take the rest a' the evenin' off, lad," Silver ordered.

"But we haven't put away any of the stuff we bought," Jim protested. "It'll take you forever!"

"I'll handle it," Silver said rather gruffly.

"Fine then!" Jim stomped off to the starboard deck of the ship, grumbling. As if the day couldn't get any worse. . . he doesn't even want me around, he thought as he stared sullenly up at Kinmoku's darkening sky. The planet's sunset was beautiful, even now at its end; the few clouds on the horizon were the same peach color as the blossoms that had adorned Kakyuu's gown. Jim hardly noticed.

He wondered what Scroop had wanted with Silver that was so urgent. Jim cringed all over again at the thought of the arachnid witnessing the whole cake fiasco. It was worse than the princess and her attendants seeing it, and the sneer Scroop had given him as he passed the pub was far worse than Yaten's prim little smirk. Jim would never see Kakyuu or her friends again, but he would have to see Scroop every day for the rest of the voyage, knowing that the arachnid who already hated him would now always regard him as a little kid.

Not to mention Silver. Jim groaned aloud and dropped his forehead onto his arms, folded against the side of the ship. If he had had to pick one person in the whole galaxy to not be present when a troupe of waiters sang "Happy Birthday" to him, Silver would have been the one. Just when he thought Silver was beginning to respect him. . . first the teasing about Jim's non-existent girlfriend, and now this.

"If I'd known ye wanted to help that badly, I'd've asked ye right away." Silver's voice from somewhere behind him made Jim jump and straighten up quickly. He turned to find the spacer watching him with a faint smile. Morph was sitting on his shoulder gnawing on one of the raw vegetables they had bought in the port.

"I, uh-- I'm just tired," Jim stammered. "Do you need help after all?"

"Yeah, if ye ain't too tired." As Jim walked with him down to the galley, feeling slightly better, Silver chuckled, "What business do ye have bein' tired, anyway? I half expected ye'd sneak off to a bar or somethin'."

"I've had enough excitement for one day," Jim muttered. He started stowing some kind of tuber in barrels under the stairs, though he wondered why Silver had bothered buying more. Jim thought he could live out the rest of his life happily without ever seeing another potato. "This was the worst birthday ever."

"Worst? Seems to me like ye made out pretty well." Silver rescued another vegetable from Morph and put it away with a stern look at the shapeshifter. "Not every day ye get kissed by a princess."

Jim felt his cheeks flare with a blush. "Y-you saw that?"

"Aye, and the way ye were smoochin' on that little blonde one."

"I wasn't 'smooching on her'!" Jim said indignantly. "She was being a brat, so I wanted to make her mad."

Silver chuckled again. "If ye say so." When Jim scowled at him and gave the tuber barrel a shove it didn't deserve, the spacer's smile faded. "Lad, ain't nothin' wrong with ye bein' interested in girls, especially at yer age. I'm sorry if our teasin' bothered ye, but it's normal."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Silver, Mom gave me that talk four years ago. Besides, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Then why're ye actin' like one?" Silver returned.

Jim gaped at him, affronted. "If everyone started teasing you for having a girlfriend you didn't have--"

"I ain't talkin' 'bout the girls." Silver leaned against the counter and gave him a hard look. "Jimbo, I know it's hard for ye bein' the youngest one on this ship, and I know it's embarrassin' to be reminded of it when we pick on ye a little or when ye get singin' and cake on yer birthday. But gettin' offended and makin' a big deal of it just makes it worse. It's what that little blonde lass'd do. If ye want people to take ye seriously, ye gotta act like the princess instead."

Jim's first inclination was to just walk out. . . until he realized that was just what Silver meant. Everything he'd done on the voyage suddenly seemed like a testament to his youth, from working harder to get back at Silver, to getting upset when Scroop so much as looked at him.

Scroop just doesn't like me, and the way he laughs at me doesn't mean anything more than that, Jim thought. Looking up at Silver thoughtfully, Jim realized that for all the tension between them, the cook did like him. That was what mattered.

"All right," Jim said finally. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind." For an instant, Silver looked positively stunned that he had gotten concession instead of a tantrum, but then he regulated his expression and just nodded.

As they put away the last of the cargo, Jim added more lightly, "But I am still young enough to enjoy a good cake, and that piece was a lot better than anything of yours I've ever tasted."

Silver laughed heartily and swatted at him with an empty potato sack. "Lad, I can bake a cake that'll knock yer socks off. There just ain't no chance of it risin' proper on this rattler of a ship, that's all."

"Liar."

As they started back above-deck, Morph following them with happy chitters, Silver rested his organic hand on Jim's shoulder with a faint sigh. "Yer right though; ye are still young. Sometimes I forget that."

Jim blushed again, thankful that the sky was now dark enough to hide the color in his cheeks, as Silver squeezed his shoulder and let his hand fall. Those words were better than all the cake in the galaxy.

The End