An expression of faint distaste crossed the man's face as Via's words and tone had become pleading. "Don't worry," He said, "I won't make you disobey your captain. You may recalibrate, but do not attempt to maneuver for jump without permission. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir, Perfectly." Via's obvious relief at the man's decision caused the faint distaste to appear again on the man's face. "I will be certain to mention your consideration to my Captain upon his recovery," Via added.
The man looked wary. "You don't think that the illness is life-threatening, then?"
Via shrugged. "My Captain didn't, sir. I don't know enough to judge. All that I can do is try to get them to K'jinnth as I've been ordered. Shall I hail you when my computations are completed?"
"Yes," the man replied. "In the meantime, you are directed to kill all motion relative to this system's primary, and do not attempt any other maneuvering without permission. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Via replied. "Thank you for your consideration and assistance."
Traffic Control signed off, and Via busied herself with her recalibration. Some two hours later, she hailed Traffic Control again.
The same man's visage appeared on the screen. "Have you completed your recal?" At Via's affirmative, the man continued, "Transmit your maneuvering data to us. Be advised, once it has been verified, the data will be retransmitted to the picket boats escorting you. Should you deviate from your programmed maneuvers they have orders to open fire."
Via transmitted the data, accompanied by assurances of her appreciation for the man's help.
When the man called Via to notify her that she could now maneuver on her programmed course, his disdain for Via's exaggerated obsequiousness was obvious. Via ignored it, however and thanked the man effusively. Less than four hours later, they jumped, to Via's great relief.
"I'm sorry that you had to act like someone's whipped dog," Jirik assured Via once they were supralight, "But it was very effective."
Via shrugged, but her expression was irritated. "It wasn't a lot of fun," she admitted. "I couldn't think of any other way to refuse medical advice without making him suspicious. This way he thinks that I'm a coward in terror of my Captain, but he won't wonder about us; at least not until the 'K'laakriit' suddenly disappears without a trace."
Jirik clapped her on the back. "Well, it was a hell of a good idea, and you carried it off beautifully. If you ever want to change your occupation to actress, you'll get a good recommendation from me!"
For the first time since they had emerged, Via's brilliant grin flashed. "No, thanks, Captain. What you saw wasn't brilliant acting; it was sheer desperation and panic!"
When they emerged at their final "plague stop," they regarded it as nearly routine. After the first tense few minutes ascertaining that they had been expected, the recal and maneuvering went smoothly and without incident.
Shortly after they went supralight on the last leg of their journey to Alpha, Tor visited Jirik in his cabin.
"Uh, sir, I'd like to t-talk to you about Via," he began uncomfortably.
His discomfort was matched by Jirik's. "C'mon in, Tor. I've been meaning to talk with you about her. I, uh, hell, I don't know what to say, except that I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did."
Tor was blushing furiously and shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "I, uh, I know, sir. I've been talking to Bran, uh, Mr. Fergson, and he's helped me see some things. I-I guess I knew all along that Via wasn't for me. I just wanted to tell you that I don't blame you. It's just that I love her so much!" tears welled up in the teenager's eyes
A wave of sympathy welled up inside Jirik. "I know you do. So does Via. I'm really sorry that we've done this to you. Someday you'll meet the girl that you really love. I know that doesn't help now, but I promise you, it will happen!"
Tor shrugged embarrassedly. "W-Well, I j-just wanted you to know that I d-don't resent you for what happened, Captain. I hope w-we can get back to our normal relationship."
Jirik stepped forward and grabbed Tor's shoulders. "Tor, that took more guts than anything that anyone's done on this whole trip. Thank you. Damn! You're going to be a hell of a spacer!"
Tor flushed with pleasure and embarrassment, and unconsciously straightened with pride.
All hands set about making the "K'laakriit" disappear, and the Bonny Lass reappear. They spent nearly the whole jump putting the ship to rights and erasing all traces of their plague beacon scheme. Since Alpha housed a sizable Patrol base, they anticipated no pirate trouble. When they emerged, they did notice an unusual amount of Patrol activity, apparently in anticipation of the possible appearance of the alien plague ship, but no undue problems or delays materialized as they completed the complicated arrangements required for docking and unloading at such a busy port.
As with most Empire planets, landing was unnecessary. A Sector Capitol, Alpha maintained a huge space station to handle its interstellar trading activity, one equipped to meet almost any trade or repair requirement, including controlled-environment areas for aliens who required them. By the time Jirik eased the Lass into her assigned berth with gentle nudges of her steering jets, arrangements had been completed for offloading and storing her cargo, for repair crews to recoat her hull, for fueling, and even for Jirik to complete delivery arrangements for his cargo.
The Customs examination was cursory, the agent merely checking her manifests to assess duties. The Port Captain who followed him aboard seemed more suspicious.
"What happened to your hull, Captain?" The man asked after introducing himself.
"We had to run through part of a nebula to escape some pirates," Jirik responded. "We were carrying a letter of credit for twenty-five million credits, and word leaked out. We were dodging pirates all the way. Why?"
"There's been a plague ship jumping around the Sector," the man explained. "The ship is described as DIN Class, like yours, and is reported to have a polished or plated hull." The man's tone told Jirik that he wasn't fooled, but that he found the situation more humorous than scandalous. "Of course," He continued, "She's an alien ship, so it couldn't have been yours. Twenty-five million, eh? That's a lot of pirate bait. Bet it's been an exciting voyage. I assume that the credits are already in the Planetary Bank?" At Jirik's nod, he continued, "I think that I'd get my hull recoated as quickly as possible, though, if I were you. You wouldn't want to be confused with a plague ship!"
Jirik nodded, then turned the conversation to unloading and storage arrangements for his cargo of heavy metals. The Port Captain left a few minutes later, a broad grin on his face.
"We didn't fool that one for a minute!" Bran's voice made Jirik jump. "He knows we were the plague ship, and he's hoping we get away with it."
"I do too," Jirik grunted. "Where the hell did you come from? How long have you been listening?"
Bran looked embarrassed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Captain. Engineering is all secured, and I thought I'd walk around the station a bit, or maybe even go down to the planet. Care to join me?"
Jirik was surprised. Bran's liberties were usually solitary affairs involving bookstores and libraries. He hardly ever invited one of his shipmates to accompany him, and Jirik was sorry to have to refuse.