Chapter Ten
Rescue Mission
It was mid-afternoon in the Cazadora’s mess hall. Off-
duty Rangers drank whiskey and the sound of cards
slapping on tables filled the room. It was a fairly quiet day,
the starship just returning from a disheartening mission to
an alien planet where they’d tried, unsuccessfully, to
convince the planet’s leaders to let the G.L.E.E. set up a
military base in orbit around them. The location of the
planet was strategically ideal – long-range satellites from
here would be able to pick up secret robot transmissions
and ferry them back to headquarters – but it was a no go.
The Graali people weren’t interested in getting involved
with the human-robot conflict, not even for the promise of
technology and favours in return. The Commander had
stormed out of the last, disastrous meeting and locked
himself in his quarters. Commander Up was unused to
unsuccessful missions – and disliked being restrained by
diplomacy.
So the Rangers were on their way back to G.L.E.E.
space for their next assignment, without much to do in the
meantime but gossip and play crazy eights.
“Three of spades,” said one aged lieutenant, lighting his
cigar. “Not much of a first mission for you, rookie, but
we’ll be seeing some action soon.”
The rookie to whom he spoke, a wiry young man in
glasses and an ensign’s uniform, placed a three of hearts on
top of the lieutenant’s card. “The Commander’s not very