She'd spooked him, Aveya thought. He was there for a long time not moving, not saying a word. Maybe he hadn't expected her to be armed? It was true that she didn't routinely carry the gun with her, but this was anything but routine. Precautions were sensible.
Except that he was right. She wasn't going to shoot him. Not that she'd have hesitated if he'd been as hostile as she thought he might be, but she wasn't going to shoot a man for refusing to show his face. No matter how insulting she found it. What did he think she was going to do, run off and hand him into the authorities? For talk? Preya was a worse place than she'd thought if that was a legitimate fear – but then she remembered the message from that councilman, urging people to turn in their own children if they caused even accidental damage to something in town. It had sounded like something out of a security company tape, so she'd questioned him, only to be told that legal action would be taken against these children. A fact quite at odds with the friendly tone of the message.
She narrowed her eyes as she stared across at Vanguard. Could she put it down to some Earther cultural quirk? Aveya didn't have the makings of a good diplomat, but you didn't go up and down the Tradelines without encountering all sorts of strange alien customs. Not wanting to show your face didn't come closest to being the oddest.
Finally she nodded, slipped the lasgun back under her coat, and strode towards him, crossing the distance between him and clasped his hand firmly. 'As you like,' she told him, doing her best to hide the worst of her displeasure. 'Although there's no call for it. I'm not your enemy. But never mind it.' No sense in arguing over something that was ultimately unimportant. 'You wanted to give me some – what, information? Advice?'