It had taken nearly a week to fix the Amethyst’s engines. Her hull was battered and in desperate need of repair.
Her crew? was the epitome of the alliance; a well oiled machine, willing to work around the clock for her Captain.
Her captain? Her captain was tired.
“Status?” she asked her engineer, “We can limp home, captain, three quarters of sublight; and i may be able to squeeze another quarter in a day or two.”
“Fine with me,” Locke nodded, “good work,”
She turned to Lucy, her bruise fading, “Get me the Lemrok,”
The grenna deep-space cruiser was a gargantuan on the view-screen, a masterpiece of scientific engineering.
“Lemrok?”
“Yes, captain.” Bael’s voice echoed on speakers.
“We are about to be away. We wish to express our deepest thanks for all that you have done, and beseech you to take care of Major Brill while she tenures with you,”
Bael’s voice was sharp, “We shall find a cure for your people,”
“And what of Vargus?” Locke asked.