Sam chuckled. "Please, on these long runs between planets on convoy duty I have more free time than I know what to do with, when I'm not up to my eyeballs in paperwork, that is," he said with a resigned sigh.<br/><br/>While the merchant service had far less paperwork for a merchant skipper, the fact he ran an armed ex-cruiser meant he had even more paperwork to deal with than even a skipper of a commissioned vessel, mostly to do with the heavy weapons aboard ship and each port having its own rules about merchies with declared weapons aboard.<br/><br/>Tremaine reappeared a few moments later with a platter of crackers, sliced cheese and what appeared to be salami. Sam knew better than to ask exactly what the mystery meat was. Cheese, even in space, was still cheese, but real meat was rare, and this stuff was definitely a cultivated mix of lab-grown meat and synthetic plant protein. Not that the average merchant spacer knew the genuine article from the stuff aboard ship. He, and his guest, had more refined palates.<br/><br/>Not that his guest would mind, given her predicament. "When was the last time you were on Conrad?" he asked, making the most of their small talk.