Read Online Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer by Joyz W. Riter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joyz W. Riter
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the thought trail off. “What other training do you have that’s not listed?”
She felt the need to proceed with caution. “I have a broad knowledge base, Captain, beyond the scope listed in my Star Service and Academy records, from anatomy to zoology, including linguistics,” she said, using the antiquated Alphan old tongue to emphasize her point.
His eyes narrowed. “Aboard Lancer you will confine yourself to Universal. Is that understood?”
She nodded, “Aye, sir.”
“You haven’t had orientation yet?”
“No, sir.”
Macao stood and started for the door. “I’ll amend the log and delete the citation once I ascertain the facts.” He stopped after a few steps and turned back. “Why didn’t you call me on it right then?”
“And interrupt your tirade?” She chuckled, “It was not the proper time or place. You were not receptive, and I had work to do.”
Macao frowned. “Correct me when I’m wrong — that’s an order.”
“I will, sir, in the future, when the situation warrants. I don’t think it is good for morale to contradict you publicly. ‘Respect breeds respect’ I believe is the saying.”
Janz Macao once again stared, this time with a greater amount of respect. “My father used to say that all the time. It’s an Alphan maxim.”
“My guardian also used it quite often,” Dana replied.
“Was he Alphan?” he wondered.
“DOC? No,” she answered, shaking her head. “An Earth-human — old school though...”
His eyes narrowed further. “You are aware that I’m Alphan?”
Dana Cartwright looked at the deck. “Difficult to not be aware…You’re a 33 rd degree Master of the Elect.”
He turned away without commenting and took another step toward the exit. “Carry on, Mister Cartwright.”
She bristled at the form of address. “Sir, I am not, ‘Mister’ Cartwright. My name is Dana.”
“I know,” he said, glancing back, seeing the faint upward, defiant curve of her lips. He didn’t smile. “New orders will be handed down tomorrow at 0900. All command officers are to report to One.”
“Aye, sir…Briefing Room One,” she returned, “I’ll reschedule my ‘orientation’ with Yeoman Warren from 0800 so I can be there on time.”
“Do that.” He nodded agreement, but made no further comment as he made his third start for the door. As an afterthought, he turned back and asked, “Have you had dinner?”
“No, sir.”
“Join me,” he invited, “I’m starving.”
Dana suddenly felt a wave of emotion directed at her; but it wasn’t coming from Captain Macao. She restored the N-link to its place about her neck and followed him out to the corridor.
He led to Starboard-Seven officers’ lounge. They sat by the main viewport, at a table with a magnificent panoramic view, though the window-wall was tinted a bright shade of green and gave the star field a surreal quality.
She noticed how the dozen or so officers present immediately curbed their conversations and lowered their voices with the Captain present. A few cast sidelong glances, mostly aimed at her.
Embedded into the table top was an order pad. Macao thumbed a few items. Dana glanced at it, but settled on vegan soup with noodles.
“Have your yeoman procure some properly fitting uniforms; that look will not do upon the Bridge. Please avoid suggestive apparel.”
Dana caught him viewing her assets. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”
“So, you read Shakespeare?” He quoted a few lines from Hamlet , admitting, “That’s about the extent of my recall.”
Dana offered a smile. “I have a photographic memory.”
“Just a walking computer then?”
She blinked and had to chuckle. “Just…”
“Is that why Four thought you could replace Mister Brandt?”
“I like to fly,” she admitted, and then, staring, added, boastfully and unabashedly, “I can fly anything.”
“On simulators…how about the real thing?”
“I captained Ambassador Solon’s shuttle for nearly a
She felt the need to proceed with caution. “I have a broad knowledge base, Captain, beyond the scope listed in my Star Service and Academy records, from anatomy to zoology, including linguistics,” she said, using the antiquated Alphan old tongue to emphasize her point.
His eyes narrowed. “Aboard Lancer you will confine yourself to Universal. Is that understood?”
She nodded, “Aye, sir.”
“You haven’t had orientation yet?”
“No, sir.”
Macao stood and started for the door. “I’ll amend the log and delete the citation once I ascertain the facts.” He stopped after a few steps and turned back. “Why didn’t you call me on it right then?”
“And interrupt your tirade?” She chuckled, “It was not the proper time or place. You were not receptive, and I had work to do.”
Macao frowned. “Correct me when I’m wrong — that’s an order.”
“I will, sir, in the future, when the situation warrants. I don’t think it is good for morale to contradict you publicly. ‘Respect breeds respect’ I believe is the saying.”
Janz Macao once again stared, this time with a greater amount of respect. “My father used to say that all the time. It’s an Alphan maxim.”
“My guardian also used it quite often,” Dana replied.
“Was he Alphan?” he wondered.
“DOC? No,” she answered, shaking her head. “An Earth-human — old school though...”
His eyes narrowed further. “You are aware that I’m Alphan?”
Dana Cartwright looked at the deck. “Difficult to not be aware…You’re a 33 rd degree Master of the Elect.”
He turned away without commenting and took another step toward the exit. “Carry on, Mister Cartwright.”
She bristled at the form of address. “Sir, I am not, ‘Mister’ Cartwright. My name is Dana.”
“I know,” he said, glancing back, seeing the faint upward, defiant curve of her lips. He didn’t smile. “New orders will be handed down tomorrow at 0900. All command officers are to report to One.”
“Aye, sir…Briefing Room One,” she returned, “I’ll reschedule my ‘orientation’ with Yeoman Warren from 0800 so I can be there on time.”
“Do that.” He nodded agreement, but made no further comment as he made his third start for the door. As an afterthought, he turned back and asked, “Have you had dinner?”
“No, sir.”
“Join me,” he invited, “I’m starving.”
Dana suddenly felt a wave of emotion directed at her; but it wasn’t coming from Captain Macao. She restored the N-link to its place about her neck and followed him out to the corridor.
He led to Starboard-Seven officers’ lounge. They sat by the main viewport, at a table with a magnificent panoramic view, though the window-wall was tinted a bright shade of green and gave the star field a surreal quality.
She noticed how the dozen or so officers present immediately curbed their conversations and lowered their voices with the Captain present. A few cast sidelong glances, mostly aimed at her.
Embedded into the table top was an order pad. Macao thumbed a few items. Dana glanced at it, but settled on vegan soup with noodles.
“Have your yeoman procure some properly fitting uniforms; that look will not do upon the Bridge. Please avoid suggestive apparel.”
Dana caught him viewing her assets. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”
“So, you read Shakespeare?” He quoted a few lines from Hamlet , admitting, “That’s about the extent of my recall.”
Dana offered a smile. “I have a photographic memory.”
“Just a walking computer then?”
She blinked and had to chuckle. “Just…”
“Is that why Four thought you could replace Mister Brandt?”
“I like to fly,” she admitted, and then, staring, added, boastfully and unabashedly, “I can fly anything.”
“On simulators…how about the real thing?”
“I captained Ambassador Solon’s shuttle for nearly a
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