The Commodore nodded vaguely, his eyes wandering over the burnished chrome and steel of the Control panels. "Good sport, small ship racing, Mr. Blake," he commented.
Blake's cherubic face burst into smiles. "The best sir!"
Hartnett's men were presented to the ship's commander more as a formality than anything else, as he had met them before. Thorne, a full Commander, was Flotilla Astrogator, Wilson and Orsov, Lieutenants, were Flotilla Gunnery Officers, James, a jaygee, was Flotilla Signals Officer, and Ensign Ward, a thin boy about Blake's age, was the Commodore's Aide. He sported his single silver augilette proudly.
They didn't seem a bad lot, reflected Scott grudgingly. Maybe they wouldn't get in the way too much.
"We can lift ship as soon as convenient, Mr. Scott," said Hartnett, issuing his first order.
"Aye, sir."
Hartnett turned to his staff. "Get yourselves below and sort yourselves out. Try not to take up too much room." As they vanished down the ramp, he turned to take a seat at the visiplates.
Scott was taking a time check from the Tower Control, and the signalmen were relaying the lift-ship order to the three other ships of Blue Three. Outside on the airless field, the amber warning lights were spinning on the Tower mast, warning the spacesuited maintenance crews away from the blast pits.
Chavez was snapping orders into the intercom and the Darkside was awaking to activity smoothly. Five shielded decks below Control, Chief Jetman Collins and the black-gang were busily removing the seals from the cadmium dampers in the blast chambers. The "three-minutes-to-lift-ship" alarm blared and the lights dimmed, leaving Control lighted only by the reflected glow of the panel lights. On the visiplate screen, the slender shapes of the Lysander, the Argus and the fat, ungainly silhouette of the ironically named Artemis showed clearly in the earthlight.
The Artemis, thought Hartnett, was the only weak link in his command. The other three ships were modern, but the Artemis was an ancient alcohol burner, converted to atomics and pressed into service by the exigencies of an undeclared and treacherous war.