"Twelve point nine kilometers, sir," the young officer replied, subdued.
Tarlac whistled softly in honest admiration, then dug into a beltpouch and flipped the Helmsman a five-credit piece. "Empress Lindner?"
"Yes, Ranger?" The ship's voice was feminine, slightly metallic.
"Log my commendation for Ensign Olorun's piloting, and have a shuttle ready to take me to Personnel Lock Three."
There was a barely-noticeable pause, then the ship-comp said, "Done, Ranger," as one of the three bridge doors slid open. Tarlac left the silent control room and entered the intraship shuttle that was waiting for him.
With the ship at General Quarters, the Ranger found the personnel lock deserted. That was fine with him. Suiting up was easier with help, but he didn't care for company just then; he began the ten-minute process of donning and checking his suit alone.
That the Traiti spoke Imperial English, even ungrammatically and with an accent, didn't surprise him. It was fairly common knowledge that the so-called Sharks took prisoners—although those were even less common than bodies—and nobody had doubted that the Traiti were smart enough to realize the value of learning their enemy's language.
That was an intelligence coup the Empire had been unable to match. Traiti too badly wounded to fight, or those hit by stun-beams and taken prisoner, never lived for long. Once they decided escape was impossible, those who were able to committed suicide, usually by clawing out their throats. Those who for one reason or another couldn't actively kill themselves simply lost the will to act and then to live, dying usually within a week of capture. The Empire had learned that they called themselves Traiti, little more.
Once he had his suit on, the Ranger fortunately didn't have to walk far. A standard spacesuit was considerably less massive than a Marine's power armor, but it wasn't light, and it was clumsy in anything approaching a full standard gee. Clumping over to the lock, Tarlac cycled through.
He stood for a moment on the Lindner's hull. He enjoyed being EVA, especially near a planet, and the blue-white world off to his right was achingly reminiscent of Terra. Then he spotted a blinking white light "above" and to his left, on a Traiti ship. He released his boots' mag-field and pushed off toward the light, waiting until he was perhaps five meters off the hull before activating his thrustpac.