the tangled mess the Captain had just been puzzling over and snapping them together as she uttered the last syllable.
“And furthermore,” she continued not even pausing for breath, as the Captain regarded her in amazement, “the Magellan is not, has never and won’t be, for quite a while, on any `Mission’! And now I would suggest, Captain, that you and your crew get off my ship!” the young scientist added forcefully, enraged at the woman’s obvious lack of decorum, for she just kept staring over the Scientist’s shoulder and glancing back at her amused.
Valesque wished then and there she had waited and let her partner talk to this obnoxious Captain. She could never keep her temper, she hadn’t even been with her five minutes and she already felt like killing her!
Captain Fairbanks calmly stepped across the room to the large, slick, if not entirely clean desk, grinning all the while like the cat that ate the canary.
Which after further reflection, and after she had settled herself down in the exquisitely comfortable desk chair, she decided was not such a good idea with a Virrilian and immediately wiped the smile from her face.
“I see.” she began coolly, addressing the hot-tempered young woman before her after a moment of silence. “But, it is my understanding . . .” she continued, pulling her Vid-screen from its holder on her waist and punching up a data screen, “that the I.P.A Vortex, Omega S-Class Intergalactic Battle Cruiser, has been, will be and is commissioned out for battle. So it seems that one of us has the wrong ship.” she mused, looking up at the enraged young scientist and then beyond her, gesturing toward the wall on her far right. “And it seems it is you... uh, what is your name again?”
Valesque turned slightly to see what the woman was alluding to, realizing then what she had been staring at so smugly before.
The cable Valesque had snapped together was the power supply for the ship’s registry display that she herself had designed and built.
The wall the Captain had noted was recessed and covered with a three-dimensional mural of the galaxy with shimmering stars, solar systems, comets and the like. Complete with man-made orbital moon Saturna 3, the ship’s birthplace, and a scale model of the ship itself in the foreground.
All set off by the antique replicas of pioneering telescopes that gave humans their first glimpse into space. Usually the sight of her best work come to life would have made her spirits soar, but as she glanced at her masterpiece of engineering and programming her blood ran cold. Instead of her meticulously crafted name plate for the I.S.A Magellan hung the menacing, rough-hewn, and quickly done replacement, the `I.P.A Vortex’.
Valesque was not sure which amazed her more, their sheer gall or their amazing speed in overtaking her ship.
The Captain, quite sure the argument was now over, repeated her last question as she punched up the crew registry to assure this volatile woman she was where she didn’t belong. “What was your name again?” she repeated patiently.
The young scientist turned back to her impatiently, her lips in a full snarl, showing all four of her sharp white fangs, while her naturally pale face flushed red in her building fury.
“My name is Valesque, Chief Engineer of this project.” she replied bluntly, through clenched teeth, trying to keep herself from lunging over the desk and ripping the Captain’s throat out.
“No, no,” the Captain corrected, hating to use any title so civilian, “your ranking title.”
Valesque grew indignant; straightening up to her full height she replied very clearly, “I am not a classified military officer.” she replied so vehemently that she almost spat the last few words.
The Captain was astounded by her proclamation; she could have sworn the young woman sounded almost proud of her non-ranking standing. Never the less she punched in the name just to assure herself it wasn’t
“And furthermore,” she continued not even pausing for breath, as the Captain regarded her in amazement, “the Magellan is not, has never and won’t be, for quite a while, on any `Mission’! And now I would suggest, Captain, that you and your crew get off my ship!” the young scientist added forcefully, enraged at the woman’s obvious lack of decorum, for she just kept staring over the Scientist’s shoulder and glancing back at her amused.
Valesque wished then and there she had waited and let her partner talk to this obnoxious Captain. She could never keep her temper, she hadn’t even been with her five minutes and she already felt like killing her!
Captain Fairbanks calmly stepped across the room to the large, slick, if not entirely clean desk, grinning all the while like the cat that ate the canary.
Which after further reflection, and after she had settled herself down in the exquisitely comfortable desk chair, she decided was not such a good idea with a Virrilian and immediately wiped the smile from her face.
“I see.” she began coolly, addressing the hot-tempered young woman before her after a moment of silence. “But, it is my understanding . . .” she continued, pulling her Vid-screen from its holder on her waist and punching up a data screen, “that the I.P.A Vortex, Omega S-Class Intergalactic Battle Cruiser, has been, will be and is commissioned out for battle. So it seems that one of us has the wrong ship.” she mused, looking up at the enraged young scientist and then beyond her, gesturing toward the wall on her far right. “And it seems it is you... uh, what is your name again?”
Valesque turned slightly to see what the woman was alluding to, realizing then what she had been staring at so smugly before.
The cable Valesque had snapped together was the power supply for the ship’s registry display that she herself had designed and built.
The wall the Captain had noted was recessed and covered with a three-dimensional mural of the galaxy with shimmering stars, solar systems, comets and the like. Complete with man-made orbital moon Saturna 3, the ship’s birthplace, and a scale model of the ship itself in the foreground.
All set off by the antique replicas of pioneering telescopes that gave humans their first glimpse into space. Usually the sight of her best work come to life would have made her spirits soar, but as she glanced at her masterpiece of engineering and programming her blood ran cold. Instead of her meticulously crafted name plate for the I.S.A Magellan hung the menacing, rough-hewn, and quickly done replacement, the `I.P.A Vortex’.
Valesque was not sure which amazed her more, their sheer gall or their amazing speed in overtaking her ship.
The Captain, quite sure the argument was now over, repeated her last question as she punched up the crew registry to assure this volatile woman she was where she didn’t belong. “What was your name again?” she repeated patiently.
The young scientist turned back to her impatiently, her lips in a full snarl, showing all four of her sharp white fangs, while her naturally pale face flushed red in her building fury.
“My name is Valesque, Chief Engineer of this project.” she replied bluntly, through clenched teeth, trying to keep herself from lunging over the desk and ripping the Captain’s throat out.
“No, no,” the Captain corrected, hating to use any title so civilian, “your ranking title.”
Valesque grew indignant; straightening up to her full height she replied very clearly, “I am not a classified military officer.” she replied so vehemently that she almost spat the last few words.
The Captain was astounded by her proclamation; she could have sworn the young woman sounded almost proud of her non-ranking standing. Never the less she punched in the name just to assure herself it wasn’t
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