Free Loyalty to the Cause (TCOTU, Book 4) (This Corner of the Universe) by Britt Ringel Page A

“Mr. Müller, do I have your word
that you will follow my orders as if I were the captain?”
    The brown-haired man smiled knowingly.  “It seems that everyone
follows your orders, Gnädige Fräulein, and Das Flittchen must have a kapitän.  Ordnung muß sein!"  The man snapped
to attention and rendered a heartfelt, if sloppy, salute.
    Vernay
had no idea what the engineer had said but recognized sincerity when she heard
it.  She stuck a hand out, which was shaken vigorously by Müller.  “Lieutenant Stacy Vernay, Mr. Müller.”
    “ Guten
Tag, and please,” Müller added, “call me Joachim, Dame Vernay.”  He spun in
place and began to walk out of the galley.  “I go now to fix the mixture
controls, ja ?”
    *  *  *
    Vernay
sent two pilots to assist, and watch over, Müller and
his repair effort.  She then climbed the stairs just aft of the center cargo
hold.  The top deck of the aged freighter was quite short, consisting only of a
bridge, chartroom, wardroom, navigation compartment and captain’s quarters. 
The bridge superstructure and her twin cargo cranes rose from the main deck
into space, fore and aft, adding further to the antiquated look of a merchant
marine ship.
    Vernay walked onto the bridge to find that the front bulkhead
contained archaic twin wall screens set to window mode.  The view was
impressive.  Extending one hundred meters past the bridge and ten meters down, Hussy’s hull was a complex jumble of antennae, cargo hatches, stabilizer arrays and
thrusters.  Her yellow-painted forward cargo crane towered above the bridge,
jutting thirty meters over the deck of the ship.  At the apex of the crane, a
small operator’s compartment was a bright contrast to the dark void of space
behind it.
    If the view outside the bridge was imposing, the interior of the
bridge itself was an enormous letdown.  Smaller than that of even Anelace ,
outdated control boards and station panels packed the tiny bridge. The
captain’s console stood less than a meter ahead of her.  The oversized chair was
an obvious replacement that had been crudely bolted to the bare, slightly
rusted, metal deck.  Ahead of the captain’s station, a longer, curved bank of stained
computer consoles split in half for the helm and engineering stations.  The
dust and grime accumulated between the stations made Vernay’s head spin. 
Lieutenant Selvaggio occupied the navigation seat while Ensign Sullivan manned
the engineer’s station.  To Vernay’s right sat Lieutenant Truesworth and the
communications and sensor controls.  Opposite of that station along the port
side of the bridge, a bandaged Chief Brown sat in front of an auxiliary control
station.  The ancillary console could be used in the event a primary station
was inoperable.  A single portal on the right side of the room led to the
captain’s living quarters while a portal opposite provided access to the
freighter’s chartroom.
    Lieutenant Selvaggio turned awkwardly in her chair to face
Vernay.  Also a replacement, her seat appeared sloppily welded to the deck.  “Um,
Captain, orbital control wants to know how long our medical emergency is going
to be.  They say our departure clearance expires in fourteen minutes.”
    Captain .  Vernay could not resist
smiling.  This really is my ship…   Captain Vernay .  She shook off
the revelry.  “We’re ready to cast off, Diane.”
    Ten
minutes ago, Vernay had communicated with Ensign Franks, the Brevic military
liaison on the orbital, and secured the medical equipment on Gables’ list.   She
dressed Franks down brutally for the apparent security leak that gave Hussy advance warning of Vernay’s mission.  She threatened that even the appearance
of any lack of additional support from Erriapius would result in dire
consequences for Franks and Owens when the second I.S. team arrived in-system
in forty-eight hours.  With a renewed gusto, Franks offered all possible aid
and the requested medical supplies