“Nothing really,” Scorpio answered as he took a bite of his mystery sandwich. It tasted kind of like a sloppy joe made from rats.<br/><br/>“Hey, great sandwich Cookie,” he yelled over Mare’s head. “No one can cook up roadkill better than you.”<br/><br/>“Oh yeah?” the cook shouted back, “Tomorrow I’ll make you a shit sandwich – hold the bread!”<br/><br/>“Please,” Scorpio replied with a laugh, “It would taste better than this!”<br/><br/>“Same thing different day,” Scorpio said to Mare in a concerned tone. “Now are you going to tell me what happened to you or what?”<br/><br/>----------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>“If it pleases you, your highness, I can leave right away,” Cam said urgently – perhaps too urgently. “All I need is your permission and I’ll gather the gear and reach out to my pilot friend.”