Galaxy's End: Book One by LeRoy Clary (popular ebook readers txt) 📗

the bridge would have at least one camera.” His eyes swept the room, and he gave up trying to find it. “We also need to notify the passengers—tell them something to calm them down. And the rest of the crew, too. They need to know what’s happening and that the Champers and their captain are dead.”

He was doing well, she thought. Far better than most would have. “Anything else?”

“You already have a destination in mind, but there is one thing.”

“Yes?” Stone asked, suspecting he would come up with the right answer.

“The Champers lived in the comm room. One or two of its minds was always awake. Champers never leave their posts. So, who gave the injection to the captain?”

Well done, she thought. Bill was a linear thinker. He saw a problem and followed the trail step-by-step to a logical conclusion. In other words, his mind worked a lot like hers and that of good engineers. He would grow to be a man who could easily command a ship.

She hadn’t seen that aspect of him before and was elated at the discovery. Engineers are always needed on a ship, but someone who can take command is hard to find. Stone bit down hard and forced herself to quit complimenting herself for the actions of others. She put on her captain’s hat and pointed. “Fang, what do you need to pilot this ship?”

“A mister to spray damp water on me would help make me comfortable. Or a pool of stale water to sit in and insects to munch.”

“Done,” she said. “Can someone get me a connection to speak with Bert?”

Bert’s voice came over the Dreamer’s speakers. “I am here. I sort of helped myself to access the audio network on the ship when we first arrived.”

Even she had to break into a smile. Then she said, “I’d like you to relocate to the bridge and give Fang a hand with whatever the two of you come up with.”

“On my way.”

Stone gave a curt nod to herself. That is the way a crewman should react to an order. She glanced at Kat. “Go get some rest. I suspect your mind needs it after what you did.”

She would tell Bill to help Bert build a comfortable tunnel, or at least place a pile of clothing in the corner for Bert to climb under when he needed it. The list of tasks increased. Each time she thought of one thing, two, or three more needs appeared. She decided it was time for a distasteful task. Between the swivel chairs was a small command post, and on it, the basic routine functions for the ship.

She sat in the empty chair and said to the computer, “Access ship-wide communications, all compartments.”

A small ping told her she could speak. Without thinking about it so much she would confuse things or make them worse, she said, “This is Captain Stone of the trading ship Guardia speaking. I’ll keep this short and answer more questions later. Pirates have killed your captain and tried to capture this ship. I have taken command and changed our destination. For the passengers, I will meet with you later and explain all I know. For the crew, you will assemble in the galley as quickly as you can get there. Captain Stone, out.”

“Short and bitter,” Fang said as Bert waddled into the room.

She gave Bert a casual pat on his shoulder as she passed by, and said, “Lock and seal the hatch behind me. Remember, there is still a murderer on board.”

Fang said, “I’m glad you remembered before I had to remind you.”

She paused at the hatch. “Do either of you have any idea of who it is?”

“You know as much as me,” Bert said.

She stepped through and waited to hear the pop of the seal setting and the finality of the slide-lock fitted into place. She strode the passage and ignored two calls for her attention from anxious passengers. Inside the galley, six crewmen waited, the full number remaining alive. They were looking even more anxious than passengers.

No sense in introductions or delays. She didn’t have time for them. “I am Captain Stone. When we reach our destination, you are free to leave the ship or remain on the crew. I will have no say and will not punish you for either choice. However, while in transit, you are the crew, my crew, and you will perform your duties as usual. I will accept no less. Questions?”

“What happened to our captain?” A blue-tinged reptile on two stubby legs asked in a lisping voice.

“Murdered. Next question.”

“By you?” another crewman demanded.

“No, by someone on this ship, but not by me or my friends.”

“Are you claiming this ship as your own?” the first to speak asked, not in an accusatory manner, but out of curiosity.

“I own and command a trader and have no interest in this ship other than as transportation. Same as you. I will settle the matter with the rightful owners upon arrival but have not even given that consideration yet.”

“You have changed our course to a new destination, I heard,” a too-thin, female humanoid said.

“I have. We had a close encounter with three pirate ships, and they may pursue us. Your Champers was taking us right to them.” Telling the truth was the easiest way.

The thin female continued, “Pirates? Really? I’d like to verify what you say about our captain with the Champers.”

Captain Stone turned slightly to face her. “Your Champers was ripe with eggs and wished to return to her home planet. When we demanded that she alter course away from the warships, there was a fight. She lost and is dead.”

The crew was divided. About half believed Captain Stone was doing what she could to help the ship and them. The rest thought otherwise.

Stone continued, “I want the