her gig line was perfectly straight. She would not allow her former captain to pick at her before her command.
Satisfied, she waved at the chief. “Put him on.”
Again, Captain Thorpe’s face filled the screen. But it was the bridge behind him she studied. It, and the people on it.
Thorpe’s Merchant Marine uniform was impeccable. But those behind him wore a thoroughly ununiform mix of civilian clothes. Two were in mismatched khakis; one’s hat had a rated officer’s emblem on it, the other a chief’s.
His bridge looked about as Navy as Kris’s did. Was it his reality. . . or only appearance like Kris’s? Good question, gal. Do you see any answers? Kris didn’t.
One thing was apparent. To the right of Thorpe were two stations. Navigation and helm? To his left were two more. Offensive and defensive weapons? No question, there were too many stations on that bridge for an honest, working freighter.
No doubt, Thorpe had done his own check around Kris’s bridge and identified too many stations for a simple exploration ship.
“Well, Princess,” he said, twisting her princess status into some kind of crime, “as you can see, this is not the Pandemonium you are looking for but a just-started new colony, Presley’s Pride, dutifully registered under Iberium regulations on Cuzco.
“You have no business here. If you do not have enough reaction mass to reverse course and boost out of this system, you may divert to the nearest gas giant and refuel.
“If you approach this planet, I will assume that you are hostile and take appropriate actions. Be aware, my ship is not unarmed,” he ended, giving Kris a stern, captainly scowl.
Apparently, his sensors had not yet advised him of the size of the lasers Kris was now powering up on the Wasp . She would love to see the reaction on his face when they did, but strongly suspected it would fall between their brief talks. From the way Chief Beni was working his boards, he would soon have a report on Thorpe’s guns. Kris could wait on that.
NELLY, WHAT ABOUT HIS CLAIM ON PRESLEY’S PRIDE?
ALREADY SEARCHING THE DATA DUMP WE GOT ON CUZCO. YES, THERE IS A PRESLEY’S PRIDE. HOLD IT! THAT SYSTEM IS ALL THE WAY OVER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ASSOCIATION. THEY HAVE NO CLAIM ANYWHERE NEAR HERE.
Nelly opened a small window on the main screen. It showed where they were, the six planets in the Iberium Association, and, some fifty light-years from Pandemonium, Presley’s Pride.
Kris allowed herself a deep scowl. “Captain Thorpe, not for the first time, you seem to have a problem telling the truth to me. Maybe even to the crew you are skippering. Presley’s Pride is a long way the other way from Cuzco.”
Kris paused to let that sink in on those who would be listening to it a half hour from now on Thorpe’s command.
“The Wasp has aboard her the grandson of the founder of Pandemonium, as well as fifty containers of cargo purchased for this planet. We are going to make delivery. I suggest you cause me and my ship no trouble as we go about our lawful business.”
With that bombshell, Kris cut the commlink.
The ship’s clock said it was noon, and Kris was hungry enough to be glad of it. “I’m headed for chow. Captain Drago, call me if we get any more message traffic from my old friend. Chief Beni, you’re eating with me in officer’s country.”
Putting her best smile on, Kris headed for the wardroom.
11
Captain Drago would have preferred one galley and mess for the Wasp . However, Gunnery Sergeants have definite ideas about propriety. Kris did not make the mistake of disagreeing with Gunny when he said, “This ship needs an enlisted mess.”
Having lost that argument, she was in no position to disagree when Professor mFumbo insisted his boffins needed their own lounge for professors and pub for technicians.
On the Wasp , there were plenty of places to get a hamburger.
Kris settled at an empty table in the wardroom after selecting a light lunch. It didn’t stay
Satisfied, she waved at the chief. “Put him on.”
Again, Captain Thorpe’s face filled the screen. But it was the bridge behind him she studied. It, and the people on it.
Thorpe’s Merchant Marine uniform was impeccable. But those behind him wore a thoroughly ununiform mix of civilian clothes. Two were in mismatched khakis; one’s hat had a rated officer’s emblem on it, the other a chief’s.
His bridge looked about as Navy as Kris’s did. Was it his reality. . . or only appearance like Kris’s? Good question, gal. Do you see any answers? Kris didn’t.
One thing was apparent. To the right of Thorpe were two stations. Navigation and helm? To his left were two more. Offensive and defensive weapons? No question, there were too many stations on that bridge for an honest, working freighter.
No doubt, Thorpe had done his own check around Kris’s bridge and identified too many stations for a simple exploration ship.
“Well, Princess,” he said, twisting her princess status into some kind of crime, “as you can see, this is not the Pandemonium you are looking for but a just-started new colony, Presley’s Pride, dutifully registered under Iberium regulations on Cuzco.
“You have no business here. If you do not have enough reaction mass to reverse course and boost out of this system, you may divert to the nearest gas giant and refuel.
“If you approach this planet, I will assume that you are hostile and take appropriate actions. Be aware, my ship is not unarmed,” he ended, giving Kris a stern, captainly scowl.
Apparently, his sensors had not yet advised him of the size of the lasers Kris was now powering up on the Wasp . She would love to see the reaction on his face when they did, but strongly suspected it would fall between their brief talks. From the way Chief Beni was working his boards, he would soon have a report on Thorpe’s guns. Kris could wait on that.
NELLY, WHAT ABOUT HIS CLAIM ON PRESLEY’S PRIDE?
ALREADY SEARCHING THE DATA DUMP WE GOT ON CUZCO. YES, THERE IS A PRESLEY’S PRIDE. HOLD IT! THAT SYSTEM IS ALL THE WAY OVER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ASSOCIATION. THEY HAVE NO CLAIM ANYWHERE NEAR HERE.
Nelly opened a small window on the main screen. It showed where they were, the six planets in the Iberium Association, and, some fifty light-years from Pandemonium, Presley’s Pride.
Kris allowed herself a deep scowl. “Captain Thorpe, not for the first time, you seem to have a problem telling the truth to me. Maybe even to the crew you are skippering. Presley’s Pride is a long way the other way from Cuzco.”
Kris paused to let that sink in on those who would be listening to it a half hour from now on Thorpe’s command.
“The Wasp has aboard her the grandson of the founder of Pandemonium, as well as fifty containers of cargo purchased for this planet. We are going to make delivery. I suggest you cause me and my ship no trouble as we go about our lawful business.”
With that bombshell, Kris cut the commlink.
The ship’s clock said it was noon, and Kris was hungry enough to be glad of it. “I’m headed for chow. Captain Drago, call me if we get any more message traffic from my old friend. Chief Beni, you’re eating with me in officer’s country.”
Putting her best smile on, Kris headed for the wardroom.
11
Captain Drago would have preferred one galley and mess for the Wasp . However, Gunnery Sergeants have definite ideas about propriety. Kris did not make the mistake of disagreeing with Gunny when he said, “This ship needs an enlisted mess.”
Having lost that argument, she was in no position to disagree when Professor mFumbo insisted his boffins needed their own lounge for professors and pub for technicians.
On the Wasp , there were plenty of places to get a hamburger.
Kris settled at an empty table in the wardroom after selecting a light lunch. It didn’t stay
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