Commander Jon McPartland stared with hard blue eyes into his screen. He watched a dot growing into a sphere, and, anticipating the words of Lieutenant-Commander Clemens, ordered:
"Have Lieutenant Parek compute their speed and course."
Clemens, with a look of gloomy reproach at not having been allowed to report, bent to the intra-ship phone. Before he could speak, he straightened, and turned to relay the information coming through his headphones:
"Navigation Officer reports course head on, sir. Speed fifty Spatial Units."
"Thank you." The Commander looked at his Engineer. "All in readiness, Mister McTavish?"
"All in readiness, sir," replied the lanky engineer, his grey eyes twinkling as he added: "They're using an electron ray, and our ship is negative—but this'll be a positive jolt to the enemy, begging your pardon, sir!"
McPartland smiled, the tense muscles along his jaw relaxing for the first time in hours. Clemens coughed and turned aside, bringing a hand up over his mouth.
This effort to preserve his reputation was needed only for a moment. He straightened, adjusting his headphones, and reported:
"Enemy ship changing course, sir, swinging aside."