Silence reigned on the command deck. Everybody stared at Lilliana in shock. Most of them only knew of the man called Fortunato through his reputation, but all of them knew of their mutual enmity, of her fierce hatred of him.
None of them would have ever suggested a rendezvous with the gambler king. That Lilliana had put forth the idea herself seemed unthinkable.
“When did Regan learn ventriloquism?” Leo asked finally.
“10,000 B.C.,” Regan said. “Though, if ya’re lookin’ to be technical-like, I invented it.”
“I’m not crazy, Leo. As you said, we need to put into port somewhere so we can take stock of the cargo hold,” Lilliana said. “We just left behind the closest thing to a planet for hundreds of lightyears. It should only take a slight deviation in our course to put us in line with the Fickle Finger, and that’ll give our angry stalker more reason to turn around than if we keep heading through empty space. Anyway, we just lost crew and the rest are going to figure out pretty quickly that we aren’t getting paid for a big chunk of this run. A little R&R might be just the thing to keep them from feeling mutinous… and if not, better that they jump ship there than jump us here.”
“It’s possible that I’m not in any position to judge this…” Galatea said, haltingly.
“It’s possible a sun is rising on some part of some planet,” Leo said.
“…but is it in any way wise to put ourselves closer to a man who may have attempted to destroy our ship?” she finished.
“It’s not your ship,” Lilliana said. “You just work here.”
“As do you,” Galatea said, her face reddening and her hands shaking as she grew more and more agitated. “But we also live here on the ship. Ergo, if there is no longer any ship, we are no longer living anywhere, and those who do not live, by and large, are dead. Therefore, I feel it behooves you to take into account the safety of…”
“Galatea,” Lilliana said. “Shut up. I am in charge here…”
“Technically, the ship belongs to Daniel Shays, and Dick is in physical command of the vessel, which makes him the captain,” Leo said.
“Captain Unger,” Lilliana said to Dick.
“Yes, ma’am?” Dick asked.
“Get the best heading for the Fickle Finger of Fate and adjust our course accordingly,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Dick said. He called up the relevant navigational information and punched it in. “Estimated time until intercept at our current rate of acceleration: four hours and fifty-seven minutes.”
“It seems our captain has spoken,” Galatea noted sourly.
“Technically, I could pull rank on him,” Regan said. “Being a prince, an’ all. Princes outrank cap’ns.”
“Oh, shut your lying mouth, you twat,” Galatea said. “‘Twat’ being an attribute with which you are endowed that is not commonly found among princes.”
“People, we have a ship to put back in order,” Lilliana said.
“I do not,” Galatea said. “All the scrambled computer systems have already been put right again, thank you very much.”
“Then there’s absolutely no reason I need to see you for the next five hours,” Lilliana said. “Everybody else… get to work.”
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