Fiske looked at him uncomfortably. "Take him away, Oley," he said, "and put him with the others. I'm getting this crate out of here." Fiske sank into the control chair and scanned the board. There was no problem here. He knew Eglan centralized controls almost as well as his own. One man could operate this ship if necessary although it took many others to fight and service it.
He energized the drives and the ship moved ahead. The view-screens glowed framing star studded space and the battered shape of the "Dauntless" falling slowly astern. The old girl lay quietly, coasting through space, gleaming faintly in the cold light of the distant stars. Slowly she shrank to a toy as the Eglan ship moved away.
It was time, Fiske thought, as he adjusted a vernier dial and pushed a small lever. The faint ion trail of the torpedo shone like a pale swordblade in the darkness vanishing toward the derelict astern. Seconds passed and then a gigantic fireball blotted out the stars, and with its dying the "Dauntless" was gone save for a fiercely radiating haze of molecules that spread rapidly outward through circumambient space....
Pedersen came in quietly and took a seat opposite Fiske. "The prisoners are secure, sir, and our men are ready for Cth jump," he said.
"Good. We'll start familiarization after we reach cruising component."
"Aye sir."
"The "Dauntless" is gone," Fiske said absently as he energized the converters and the ship shivered at the border of hyperspace.
"I know. I saw her die."
"She was a good ship."