With a look, Trianna Locke sent The Doc back to his corner, the Grenna creature close on his heels. She walked slowly, finding a place to sit around the large conference table.
She sighed. She already missed her captain’s chair; she did her best thinking within it. With a shrug, and grimace, she stood again.
“Captain Vargus, i would like to invite you over to the Amethyst!”
“I’m not leaving my ship! There are too many repairs. Too many downed systems.” Vargus jabbed a finger at the bulkheads.
“I submit to you, sir,” Locke tried, “That your crew is doing an admirable job in doing what they do best, and that the only way that I can convince you that you are 20 years out of time, is to see my ship.”
One of the security men piped, “You’re not taking our captain alone!”
“We have room for 3 more on the roundabout,” Karapanov suggested.
“And we’ll take the Grenna with us,” from Doc.
“Tarn go away,” the grey creature nodded emphatically.
Locke offered, “Whaddya say, Cap?”
Vargus nodded, “Lead the way!”