Free Rogue Galaxy, Episode 1: The Captain and the Werewolf by J. Boyett Page A

imagination after all. Voice firm, Blaine said, “All right, Lieutenant. I hereby....”
    But she was cut off by a cry from inside the Tubes: Dobbler's voice, shouting, “Hold it! Hold it!” The sound of racing footsteps became audible, too.
    Without waiting for orders, the crew started to pour through the still-unsealed airlock, till Miller furiously hollered, “Hey! Where the hell are you going?! Who the hell told you to go anywhere?!” Cowed, they rushed back onto the safe side, while he shoved past them through the airlock door. As he crossed the threshold, he called over his shoulder, “Stay ready to blow this goddam thing!,” then continued on alone to the Tubes entry.
    He reached it just in time to nearly get knocked over as Dobbler came running out, gulping for air. “The captain got it!” he gasped. “He got the werewolf!”
    “'Got' it?” demanded Miller. “'Got' it, how ?”
    But Dobbler only shook his head. “He got it under control!”
    ***
    I n Engineering, Blackmon was spinning in her chair, hands overhead, cheering. Blaine was relieved, too, but not quite ready to celebrate so whole-heartedly.
    Like Lieutenant-Commander Miller, she had to wonder: how could the merely human captain have “gotten” the wild, savage werewolf?
    She didn't order her team to start taking down the portable airlock until Miller confirmed that, yes, Captain Farraday really was leading out the amazingly docile werewolf, and that Miller and his Security people had safely bound it in titanium restraints.

ELEVEN
    W ith the werewolf out of the airlock and tied down in Sickbay, Blaine was able to take a team into the Tubes to track down the damage Beach had wrought. Compared to the madness of recent events, it felt like an easy, straightforward task, and after about a day they had the helm operational. Blaine staggered out of the Tubes, reported to Farraday on the bridge and then, even though she hadn't slept in more than forty hours and was longing for bed, called Miller for an update. He was in Sickbay, with Eban. She listened to him on her communicator as she made her way to her quarters.
    By the time she was halfway to her room the helmsman had already begun taking them out of the system, and Miller was able to confirm that the werewolf had reverted back to Jennifer Summers, once they were an AU or so away from those moons. Happy ending.
    Curiously, the werewolf had stayed docile for nearly two hours after Captain Farraday had led it out of the Tubes. Miller, wonderstruck, had started to wonder if maybe Jennifer Summers really was still there inside the werewolf, since the only new variable he could see that might affect its behavior was the captain's presence. But then, after about two hours, the werewolf had gone savage again, and begun roaring loudly, violently, and constantly enough to make everyone in Sickbay nuts. Anyway, it was over now, and Lieutenant Summers was sleeping deeply and peacefully.
    The only other big news was that the Galaxy had postponed its exploration mission here and was heading back to Kimball. Supposedly Carlson and Walsh had some theories about possible uses of the Weed of Wonder, as a werewolf tranquilizer—word was that Fiquet had contributed some ideas of her own.
    “But listen, Val,” said Miller, over the communicator (there must have been no one nearby, otherwise he wouldn't have used her first name), “all that can wait. You did a great job, but you must be exhausted. Why don't you lie down before you fall down?”
    “Mm.” What Miller didn't know was that while he'd been talking she'd reached her quarters and now was sprawled on her bed. “Sage advice. Blaine out.” The next moment she'd fallen asleep, without ever taking off her uniform.
    Hours later she awoke, with a head full of questions.
    She mulled them over and sorted them in her mind while she showered. Once she was out she hailed the bridge; the captain was there and got on the horn when he heard who it was.
    “All is