Sam left her to her work and didn't come calling until the following morning. They were technically close enough to Conrad to send a shuttle down, but orbital traffic control prioritized freighters over "escort craft" and sent them to the back of the line. It was a necessary evil of the grav waves every ship generated for interplanetary travel that ships keep their distance from each other while under power. It made orbital traffic management a tricky business. Once safely in their assigned parking orbit they had their own dedicated wave-safe corridors for their shuttlecraft. Until then they were stuck aboard ship. But the crew was already working on loading the cargo shuttles with the ship's limited-in-size, high-value cargo. Sam had prepped his personal pinnace, a surplus GN assault shuttle with a modified interior to take his new charge down to the surface just in case of trouble. It wasn't armed anymore, but it could take a beating that would shred a civilian shuttle and still run a dozen powered laps around the planet.  More importantly, he could handle the craft himself and not raise any eyebrows.<br/><br/>He rang the chime to her quarters and waited, a tablet in hand. "Tahlia, it's Sam, we're almost in orbit," he said. Her quarters were one of the few aboard ship that had an actual window, and from her vantage point the planet was a small blue disc in a mostly-black void.