Free Burnt Worlds by S.J. Madill Page B

be exotic, others thought her haughty or arrogant.   Most all of them, male and female alike, at some point speculated on the sexual attributes and/or behaviour of the Palani in general, and even of the Tassali in particular.   He had very nearly spoken out, to strongly discourage such talk.   Such discussion was acceptable, perhaps even entertaining, among the Dosh.   But not among the Palani.   He’d remained quiet, partly due to the regular, distracting transcendence of a mug of coffee held tightly under his mouth.   He wanted to speak to the Captain about his concern:   having a Tassali on board was a greater threat than the humans realised.   A full-blooded Tassali was a powerful being; if her skills were fully developed she would be able to manipulate the minds of anyone she spoke with.   The entire crew could be influenced, made susceptible to her will.   Which was to say nothing of any combat training she might have had.  
    For now at least, he would remain quiet.  
    There was also the greater question, of why a senior member of the Palani religion would be out here.   Once the Palani leadership knew where she was, they would want her back.   And when it came to looking after their own, the Palani were anything but subtle.
    The chirping of the engine room’s speaker broke his train of thought.   “Cho to Engineering, is the Head Mechanic there?”
    “Yes, Lieutenant,” said Saparun in reply.   “How can I be of assistance?”
    “Sir, if you have some time, could you come by the tech suite?”
    “Of course.   I am on my way.”
    The Dosh gave a quick nod to his apprentices at the fabricator, and walked out of the Engineering space.   He moved quietly through several hatches before entering the dark, screen-lit confines of the technology suite.   A half-dozen consoles were back-to-back along one wall, and Cho sat at the far end.   The golden glow of the screen lit up his fatigue-lined face.
    “Lieutenant,” said Sap.   “The hour is late.   You must be very interested in something.”
    “I am,” said the officer, pulling up a chair next to him.   The Mechanic sat down and looked at the console.   Directly in front of him was a steaming mug.   His face lit up, and he glanced at Cho, who nodded and flashed a wide smile.   “A bribe, sir.   We might be a while.”
    Saparun picked up the mug in both hands.   “Happily accepted, Lieutenant.   Thank you.”   He put the mug to his lips and breathed deeply, his face splitting into a toothy smile.   “Sensor logs, I see.”
    “Aye, sir,” said Cho.   “The Captain told Lieutenant Atwell and I about your theory, and asked us to help investigate it in our spare time.   I’ve been looking into it.   I intend to figure it out.”
    “You are not co-operating with Lieutenant Atwell?”
    “No.”
    The Mechanic said nothing, but looked into the human’s eyes.   He took another deep coffee-infused breath, his eyelids twitching.   “My theory, do you believe it?”
    Cho nodded.   “Absolutely, sir.   I don’t believe jump drives just explode for no reason.”
    “Thank you, Lieutenant.   What have you found?”
    The broad smile faded.   “Nothing.”   Cho sighed and pointed to a long list of entries at the side of the screen.   “I’ve run processing filters, spectrum filters, time filters, and eleven different types of signal processing.   The computer is convinced that there was nothing there.   No other ship within the range of anything we have.”
    “A problem, then.”   Saparun's green eyes ran back and forth across the display.   “I have been spending a lot of time thinking about this.   Thank you for running so many different types of analysis.”
    “You’re welcome, sir, but it doesn’t help.”
    Saparun shook his head.   “I don’t agree, Lieutenant.   In a way, it does help.   It tells us we are looking at the wrong thing.”
    “Sir?” asked Cho, his brow furrowing.   He was looking