Rafael and I exited first through the rear door, playing the part of cautious bodyguards making a sweep before their employer deplaned. Our pilot had extended folding steps from the VTOL to the tarmac and I descended these cautiously, one eye on the tiny ferrocrete-and-glass structure that was a hangar and control tower in one. Rafael motioned for the "priest" to stay in the plane as a military jeep approached. Its driver—an Azzie soldier in full combat gear with a heavy pistol holstered at his belt—stepped out of the armored jeep and opened the rear door. If the Azzies used the same rank insignia as our own UCAS forces, he was a lieutenant—a junior officer, but an officer nonetheless.