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Peters flushed. “Well, sir, it ain’t really all that hard to fly one of these things,” he demurred.

“Obviously not.” Bolton scanned the panel. “Commander Collins also quoted you as saying you’d never landed one on a planet.”

“That’s right, sir. All I ever did was spell the pilot of the freight hauler while we was salvagin’ the pirate ships, sir.”

“Including landing in the bay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How many times did you land it in the bay?”

“Three or four times, sir.”

There was a long silence. At last Bolton said, “How do we know if we’re close?”

Peters nodded. “What you do, sir, is pitch the nose up and down, with the course needle centered. If you know you’re at about the right altitude, when the needles cross you’re pointed right at the destination, sir.”

“And from there you can figure out what to do next.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bolton stared at Peters for a long moment. “You’re pretty fluent in the Grallt language, aren’t you?”

“I get by, sir.”

“I beg to differ, sir,” Mannix put in. “I’ve seen him in action. Fluent is precisely the correct description, sir.”

“So I understand.” Bolton grinned, with less amusement than before. “You’re fluent in the language, and you know how to fly a spaceship. Chief Joshua says you’ve been hobnobbing with the ship’s officers; he gets pretty indignant about it, in fact.”

Peters nodded, a bob of the head, but kept his eyes squarely on Bolton’s.

“You’re dressing pretty sharp these days, I see, and I hear you and your buddy have been living pretty high on liberty. You care to discuss where the funds for that are coming from?”

“Yes, sir, we been workin’ some for the Grallt in our off-duty hours, sir,” Peters said cautiously. “Which is legal, sir, I done it before when the ship wasn’t on deployment, sir.”

“Peters, this detachment’s orders put it on the same status as a deployment to a combat zone,” Bolton said with a little heat. “You don’t have any off-duty hours except when you’re on liberty.”

Peters ducked his head again. “Beggin’ the Commander’s pardon, sir, but my orders ain’t the same as yours, sir.”

“Oh, yes, the famous screwed-up orders.” Bolton leaned forward slightly, his face stern. “This isn’t the time or the place for it, but you’d better believe that those orders, and this whole situation, are going to be looked at real close when we get home. In the meantime I’m going along, because the people we signed the agreement with insist on it, but United States Navy Space Detachment One has a mission out here, and as commanding officer I intend to see that mission accomplished. Do you know what that mission is, Petty Officer Peters?”

“Yes, sir, I do, at least in general terms, sir.”

“‘In general terms.’” Bolton twitched, calling attention to the tension in his shoulders and neck. “Specifically, Petty Officer Peters, the mission of SPADET ONE is to establish commercial relations with other peoples, and to earn foreign exchange for the U.S. Government so it can participate in those relations.” He paused; when Peters started to speak he made a jerky quelling motion and continued, “And from where I sit, it looks a lot like you are blocking me from accomplishing that mission for personal gain, and I don’t intend to let that happen. Do you understand me, Petty Officer Peters?”

I reckon if there’s a blockage it’s on your end, Commander, Peters thought, but he only said, “Yes, sir,” without dropping his eyes.

“And with all due respect, sir, he’s just recently pulled the unit out of a fairly tight situation,” Mannix put in.

“I’m almost completely persuaded of that.” Bolton twisted to look at the First Class, then turned back to relieve the strain. “How much do you know about that situation, Mannix?”

“Not much, sir, just that Peters and Todd managed to deflect something pretty nasty. There’s speculation going around, but no details, sir.”

“There better not be,” the commander growled. “If it gets to be deck scuttlebutt, heads will roll, you real clear on that, sailors?”

“Yes, sir,” both enlisted said simultaneously.

The commander glanced at the navigation instrument before meeting Peters’s eyes once more. “I will be keeping an eye on you, and that is a personal guarantee,” he commented, his face and tone still tight. “You ever think about jumping ship, Peters? No, don’t answer that.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Peters said softly, holding eye contact.

Bolton broke it, reaching for the andli to start the dli in a smooth pitching motion. “About time to be hunting for the ship, isn’t it?”

Peters glanced around, checking the sun angle. “Yes, sir, it is. There, sir, it just went by.”

“I got it… you suppose we’re in visual range?”

“I reckon we ought to be, sir… yeah, there it is, sir, dead ahead and a little up. Looks like a star, but it moves.”

“So it does… from here it’s just like coming back from a furball,” Bolton noted. “Bar the different set of controls, that is. No real problem.” He manuevered the dli into an approach path, then brought it in for a landing in the ops bay, not as smoothly as Gell would have but an entirely creditable performance. “Not too bad,” he observed when they were sitting on the skids in the bay.

Gell applauded slowly, soft handclaps that didn’t make much noise. “Excellent,” he said. “Not that I expected anything different. Whatever else your superior may be, he is certainly a skilled ship operator.”

“Yes.”

“What’s that?” Bolton wanted to know.

“Gell says you’re good, sir.”

“Eh? Well, of course I’m good.” This in the tone he might have used to say, “of course the sky is blue.” “I’m a Navy aviator.” He stood, and Gell used the opportunity to reach around him and press buttons while Bolton adjusted his headgear. “Very interesting flight,” the commander commented. “Tell Gell thank you. And keep in mind what I said.”

“I will, sir.” Peters watched as Bolton disappeared aft, then told Gell, “Commander Bolton says thank you for the opportunity.”

The Grallt nodded and took his seat, waiting for his passengers to offload before taxiing the dli into the hangar. “My pleasure,” he said. “When will you be available to teach me your language? It looks as if it will be useful in the future.” He grinned and looked sidelong at Peters. “I would have very much liked to be able to follow the intense discussion just finished, for instance.”

“Ssth. I can summarize that in a few words. Commander Bolton considers me so low in the precedence structure that I cannot make contributions and can barely commit significant errors. He warned me against mistakes, obliquely because he can’t conceive of my doing anything effective.”

“Yes, but are you cynical enough?” When Peters choked at that, Gell went on, “I’m still interested in learning. Perhaps I would have a different interpretation.”

“Look me up when we’re in High Phase.” Peters added his compartment designation.

“I’ll do that.”

“Well, that was interesting,” Mannix remarked as he and Peters made their way down the aisle. “I believe the Commander was quite taken with you, now that he’s met you in person, as it were. It would seem that you are destined for even greater things.”

Peters snorted. “Hmph. I reckon that ain’t quite the interpretation I’d put on it, and anyway I could’a survived without bein’ the apple of the Commander’s eye.”