“We’ve yet to find him,” Bael reported.
This saddened Locke.
“Well then,” she bit down and grimaced against welling emotion unbecoming of a ship-captain, “we thank you again, Bael. Give Tarn our respect,”
Bael’s voice was unemotional, “He acknowledges, and we wish you well.”
“captain?” this voice was familiar.
Locke’s face brightened, “Laura, how are things over there.”
“The technology here is.. well frankly, unbelievable.”
“The karama crew?”
“Still in stasis. When we find a cure, we will help them; the grenna assure me it can be done in as little as a few months.”
The bridge door opened. Jim Morris limped on deck.
“Tell Jim that Tarn hasn’t stopped speaking of his heroics,” came brill.
Locke smiled up at the good doctor, “No way, Laura, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“god’s speed, captain,” brill said, “I will be in touch,”
“I’m counting on it, locke out!”
Karapanov looked back from the nav-con, “Course captain?”
“Take me home, navigator,” Locke bit her lip, “Take me home!”
“Home it is, cap”