"Right, sir." Willis turned her attention to her officers. "Lieutenant Matthews, inform the Palace and Fleet HQ about the change in flight plan. Ask Fleet to have a morgue detail waiting when we get back to Luna Base. Ensign Olorun, bring us out of hyperspace for the course change."
Communications and Helm officers answered as one: "Yes, sir." Transitioning out of hyperspace was simple, even in the middle of a programmed course; Ensign Olorun flipped a switch on his Helm console, puncturing the hyperfield and bringing them to rest relative to what little matter was present in interstellar normspace.
The Navigator didn't need orders; he began plotting a course to the signal source as soon as the Lindner made her out-transition. With the ship-comp's aid, the calculations took less than a minute. "Coordinates ready, Captain," he reported.
Ensign Olorun was as efficient as his crewmate; as soon as Mueller gave him the final coordinates, he entered them into his own console and programmed the course. "All green, sir," he said.
Willis smiled. She, like the others aboard, had had to earn the privilege of serving on a Sovereign-class cruiser, and having a Ranger aboard brought the crew to its maximum efficiency. "Execute transition."
"Aye, sir."
At Olorun's words, everyone aboard felt the oddly pleasant twisting sensation as the hyperfield built up. The stars flared, then the screens went blank as the ship transitioned into hyperspace.
Tarlac still found it moderately amusing that hyperspace transition, once generally imagined to be at least uncomfortable and very possibly disabling, had proven to be anything but—to be the exact opposite, in fact. As a boy, he'd enjoyed daydreaming that he himself might make a discovery as unsettling as that particular one of Nannstein's, but so far he hadn't, and it didn't seem at all likely he would. On the other hand, it was just the unlikeliness of such a discovery—one that completely reversed a commonly-held idea—that made it so unsettling.
He grinned fleetingly to himself at the thought of how unlikely hyperflight, or even the Empire itself, must have seemed to an ordinary Terran back when Armstrong and Aldrin had made the first landing on Luna, but then he dismissed those unproductive if interesting ramblings. He had work to finish before the ship got back to Luna Base and he went on to Terra.
Five hours later, Tarlac was back on the bridge. He had no real reason to be there, but he enjoyed watching the choreographic precision of a Naval bridge crew, especially this one. He called on the Lindner every time he needed something with the power of a battle cruiser, and he praised her highly in the mock-serious arguments Rangers had with each other about the merits of their chosen ships—even over the performance of such a simple maneuver as the retrieval of body-return containers.