Free Archaea 2: Janis by Dain White Page B

explaining our... shall we say... innovative navigation methods to some faceless bureaucrat at NTOC, waiting for my ticket to get pulled, or some fine to be assessed. I figured my best defense was just to play dumb. I do that pretty darn well.
    “NTLC, this is the Archaea, on standby for drop to NTP. Please advise pan status, over”
    “Archaea, NTLC. We show you currently on the hard for pan twenty. Please advise, over”
    “NTLC Roger. We were there but burned for orbit on emergency basis during last howler, over.”
    There was a slight pause, while the scope jocks at New Turiana Launch Control tried to decide if that was worthy of a fine. I didn't know if that's what they were doing, but it sure seemed likely. They love money on New Turiana.
    “Archaea, we copy emergency launch. You are cleared for landing on pan twenty, lights are green-green-red-blue on cycle, over”
    “Copy pan twenty NTLC, dropping now, Archaea out.”
    I watched the clock count down, and fired retros on the mark to decelerate for planetfall. The Archaea dropped with Janis on assist, fast enough to glow at first, then lifter compensation kicked in and we all felt a little lightheaded as the black sky turned mauve, and we punched through pink clouds down to the blastpans of New Turiana Port. They had scrapers and haulers throughout the blast pans, clearing drifts of dirt and dust, glittering in the sun. The lights of pan twenty lit up for us, and I brought her in as lightly as a kiss on the cheek of a sleeping baby.
    “Yak, how would you like to go on a little spin in the gig with me?” I asked, once the post-flight procedures were done.
    “Sounds good sir. When do you want to head out?”
    “Well, time is of the essence... let's say 30 seconds after I get some coffee. There's an alarming amount of blood in my coffee system right now, and I honestly can't recall what happened earlier than a few moments ago. I probably shouldn't have been flying anything bigger than a confident eyebrow in my condition.”
    “Sounds good sir, are you expecting a peaceful mission, or should I gear up?”
    “Well son, there's only a few things that can bring a tear to my eye. A lost pet, an ice cream cone on the ground, and a marine without a weapon, I think you better gear up. ”
    “Sir, yes sir” he said smiling, and headed aft.
    I unbuckled and stretched, and yawned enough to swallow the world. “Pauli, can you stay on station here for a bit? I need someone to stay on bridge watch, and I expect Gene and Shorty will be busy making those turrets go bang.”
    “No problem, Captain. I am just going over the data Janis backzipped from the runabout. Pretty juicy stuff, sir. This will really come in handy.” I paused on my way out of the bridge and looked at his screens. I didn't see anything juicy, just a number of scrolling screens full of tables of data.
    “Very well, Pauli, thank you son. I am off to see a pot about some coffee.”
    The galley was cold and bright, the opposite of what I wanted out of it, coffee hot and dark. The sound of the grinder, the smell of the beans, the moist heat of the water in the press, the ignored timer. I know how long to brew, this process is part of me, it's my routine. Today has been a long day made even longer without my one true love, my reason for existence, my fully charged coffee cup. I just about broke down and wept when the rich aroma of the brew wafted through the air caressing my senses with a soft embrace.
    “Gene! Is that gig ready for launch yet?” I barked, as I skipped into the cargo bay with my warm coffee cup leading the way like my one true friend.
    “Dak, were you wanting to take her out?” Gene asked, with a monkey face looking into the racks. The gig was one of our prizes salvaged from the Mantis, a totally sweet little ten meter runabout.
    “That's correct Gene. Yak and I are going to fly on over to these coordinates and see if there's anyone who wants to pay us a tiny little insignificant amount