In Pursuit of Xirth
On the main deck of the starship Galatron, Gerald Windsor peered into the swirling vortex. The visual display showed what the computer scanned and interpreted several parsecs in the distance. A plasma cloud rimmed black hole formation, with bolts of lightning coursing throughout. To proceed would be suicide. And murder. The crew of twelve thousand civilians and scientists would be innocent lives spent in his vain pursuit of justice. A cost too high. Even for Captain G.R. Windsor.
"Belay that last command, Number One. Set a new course," he said. His right hand gripped the arm of the captain's chair with such intense pressure that when he stood, outlines of his fingers would remain behind.
"Aye, Captain. But won't that allow The Xirth to evade capture? Again." Number One, or Francis Pupils as he was known Earthside, stood with the Captain since their commissioning. The two were inseparable.
"Not when we appear on their view screens as they emerge from that tumultuous tempest. In fact, I would be surprised if they come out alive at all. Look smart, now. I know a shortcut."
'Ahhh. The Captain,' Pupils thought. 'He is always right and he always looks out for the ship.'
A buzzing broke the tension on the deck. Pupils glanced at the communicator readout. "Hey, I've gotta go. Dinner's on the table!" He stood, and dove for the tree house hatch. "See you tomorrow Gerald."
"Yeah. Tomorrow." Captain Windsor stood, and the chair let out the familiar squeak. One Gerald hated. It meant their exploration of the universe was at an end. For now.
THE END