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Description
Interior Minister Prym considered the last of the daily paperwork in his hand. He sighed as he placed the bane of his existence into an empty bin on his desk. Over the past few days he signed new ordinances that came to be known in the popular press as the 'Spaceman Controls'. The most obvious one was the restriction of shuttle flights over populated areas. Sonic booms produced by descending shuttles had unsettled certain segments of the population, mainly the shore fishermen. Prym knew fishermen were always of the superstitious lot, and any excuse to blame a poor catch would be welcomed. Loud startling booms that came from the sky would fit the bill nicely. Having the shuttles start their atmospheric landing approach further out at sea was a logical, and reasonable, ordinance to make.

The use of advanced technological devices was also addressed in the Spaceman Controls. Since there was no Gaian law covering 'anti-gravity' devices, Prym exercised his power and had such devices banned until such laws were created. Given the inherent inertia of the courts, along with some subtle prompting, such laws would be years in the making.

Retrieving a copy of the daily newspaper from his desk's upper-left drawer, Prym allowed a well-practiced frown to appear on his face. The most noise in the news now was the Hadala archeological findings. Admittedly the devices used by the Terran scientist Pablo Enriquez had gathered more information in far less time than with current 'local' methods. Prym mentally gagged at the thought that Gaian scientists were practically bystanders in their own field of endeavor. By the Goddess, he thought as he looked at the captioned photo of the scanning device used at Hadala, letting Javeus press the button is no better than a child turning the knob of a steam valve. Anyone could do that!

Truth be told, Prym had felt increasing pressure from his Luddite-minded constituents. Orent, his brother, had even taken the rare event of sending a letter, reminding him of the conversation they had earlier. It didn't matter that sympathetic friends in the news and industry had been working behind the scenes, raising true concerns and instilling doubt about the visitors in the minds of government and civilians alike. What Orent wanted was more 'overt skepticism'.

Looking over newspaper article again, Prym came to a decision. It was time that a high-ranking government official visit Hadala and see first-hand the work of the archeologists. He had a good idea that some of the local scientists were not too enthused about the spaceman technology. Professional 'dissent' over the use of foreign technology would prove helpful. Moreover, getting the ear of the Matriarch and gaining even a limited amount of support would help the Luddite cause.

Prym pressed a button on his desk intercom. The voice of his secretary Londa replied. "Yes, minister?"

"Londa, arrange a plane to take me to Hadala tomorrow morning. Assemble the usual entourage of assistants and press coverage."

"Yes, minister."

-------

"Gaia's greetings," said Nishna as she gripped Harkin's forearms in welcome. "I'm so glad that you'll be here for the foreseeable future."

"The feeling is mutual," replied Harkin. His first assignment as part of Captain Guntherson's liaison and cultural team was to observe a popular Gaian hobby. In this case it was miniature wargaming, and to Harkin's surprise he found that it was Nishna's hobby. The delight on his face when he walked in the well-attended gaming hall and saw Nishna there would've made for a memorable photo if a camera been available. He didn't peg the woman as one who played with metal miniatures of ancient warriors, and part of him wondered what other delightful surprises she had yet to show.

"Have you played with miniatures?" Nishna asked earnestly. She guided Harkin by the elbow to a nearby table covered with a huge, detailed gaming map. On that map were dozens of tiny metal figures, armed with weapons that would find service in both ancient Terran and Gaian armies. Picking up one the exquisitely detailed figures, Nishna held it in front of Harkin.

"At the Academy. Part of the ancient naval history classes included playing games. The instructors had the cadets use maps and models instead of holographic projections. I wished they did, however, because I tended to accidently crush those little models."

Nishna giggled. "Models made of wood, I suspect. These metal figures can leave a lasting mark." She showed the palm of her left hand to Harkin, revealing a scar roughly two centimeters long. "I've learned to become very aware where my hands are when handling my miniatures. You wouldn't have liked to have seen me when I got this mark."

"No less when I crushed the ships. Now, about these miniatures..."

"My miniatures," Nishna added proudly. "On this table all of them are mine. That one you're holding is a Hantan League swordsman." She picked up another figure from the table. "And this is a rifleman of the Thunderstroke Regiment, the first to fire the Hammerfist Rifle in combat. Painting the fine details took a great deal of patience."

Harkin had to agree as he looked at the other figurines on the table. The pikemen all had a shine on the heads of their weapons, and the longbowmen had the fletching on each drawn arrow painted. It was clear that Nishna was dedicated to her hobby, and Harkin was about to compliment her work when he noticed Lt. Carson approach. What's she doing here, he thought, and who's that with her?

"Hello, Ensign Harkin. I see that you've been assigned to write about miniature wargaming as well." Carson moved her gaze from Harkin to the pleasant-looking woman next to him. She knew about the ensign's previous assignment to the elementary school and wondered quietly why the-powers-that-be chose Nishna's class. With Harkin's heritage it was a wonder that he wasn't all over the schoolteacher like a cheap suit. The site of the woman's bare and inviting mid-riff would've sent Grandfather Harkin off like a lust-filled bomb.

"Yes, Lt. Carson. Captain Guntherson felt that my own interest in miniature wargaming would be an asset in this regard." He indicated to Nishna. "This is Miss Nishna Ironforge. You probably know about her from the papers."

The women embraced each other’s forearms in greeting, their pronounced busts making contact. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Ironforge. I'm Lieutenant Estelle Carson."

Nishna blushed, making a cute face that subliminally endeared Harkin to her all the more. "Oh, the Admiral's niece, and an inheritor of Parlor blood. You must be awed by what your ancestor accomplished on this world."

"An accurate assumption, Miss Ironforge." Carson had gotten use to the almost daily reminder of her heritage. Pamela Parlor was indeed her ancestor, but it was Gerald, Pamela's brother, that was her actual direct, but distant, relation the Parlor family. Given the profound change to Gaian society thanks in part to Pamela's knowledge and genes, not the very least the ampleness of its females, Carson could accept the attention she was given. Releasing her embrace, she then placed a hand on the forearm of her companion. "This is Jeln Kreyler, and he's a junior curator at the History of the People Museum."

"Gaia's greetings," Jeln said as he greeted Nishna and Harkin in turn. As Carson had appraised Nishna, it was the Ensign's turn to think about Jeln. He's a tall one, he admitted to himself, a little bit over the Admiral even. A set of ill thoughts that only ensigns could think about their superiors occurred to him. That puppy dog look on his face can only mean he's taken in by Carson's presence. No doubt the el-tee is taking advantage of that, like a little dog cowing a larger one into submission. All that's missing is a leash! Not to mention that Carson now has a handy bit of shade to depend on...

"Thinking particularly hard, Ensign?" said Carson casually.

Ouch! I must've made a sour face, he thought. "Well, Lt., I was thinking about the Battle of the Slope. It was the first and decisive use of the Hammerfist Rifle by the Techie Army. Judging from the miniatures on the table, we can see a wargaming recreation of that battle if Nishna is willing."

That was clearly what Nishna was waiting to hear. She went on over to the other side of the table and picked something up. It appeared to be large tool case, and she placed it on the table. Upon opening it, Nishna showed that instead of tools the case held whole phalanxes of miniatures. She eagerly placed the metal figures at their respective places on the map. "I hope you have the time for this. The Battle of the Slope takes about three hours to play through."

"This is my assignment for today," said Harkin.

"We have the time for it." Carson, with her hand back on Jeln's forearm, guided her tall companion to a nearby chair.

No leash, but she's improvising, thought Harkin. He quickly made a neutral face when Carson turned towards him. Damn, she's a mind reader or tuning in to my wetware. Better keep a passive 'mental screen' up while she's around.

In the meantime Nishna motioned to a pair of men at a nearby table. They came over, quite happy to have been invited into the presence of the naval officers. "These are two of my gaming friends. We'll be explaining the rules and game mechanics as we play out the battle. Do ask questions if you feel the need."

Feel indeed, thought Carson as she watched Harkin admiring more than just Nishna's miniatures. I bet a payday that Harkin's wishing he's one of those metal soldiers, stuck between her breasts. Pity he turned off his main biomed transmitter. His heart must be trying to burst of his chest.

"Now," Nishna said gleefully, rolling a pair of dice in a paper cup, it's time for the imitative roll."

-------

Captain Ichiba, Commander Capri, and Colonel Kosiba were sharing the same table in the Stroud's officer's mess. Their servings of breakfast had long been consumed, the plates and glasses spirited away by attentive mess stewards. In front of each of the officers were copies of Gaian newspapers. Admiral Carson thought it a good idea that his officers stayed informed of current 'local' news. It would have been a simple matter of making a composite document from all Gaian news sources, but the Admiral wanted his people to experience the news the same way Gaians did. So, for the past two weeks Ichiba has read three Gaian papers each morning and listened to Gaian radio two hours each day. In the economic section of the Silvertown Intelligencer he came upon an article that made him speak out.

"Here, look at this," Ichiba said, pointing to a part of the newsprint for Capri's benefit. "Someone's finally making major noise about our impact on the local economy."

"Major?" said the russet-haired commander as she fished for the appropriate section from her own pile of newsprint. "I thought that the increased trading in their stock markets would qualify."

"That is just part of what this writer is saying. Indeed, the writer contends that we're setting up the whole economy for a fall. When that happens, we'll move in and help rebuild 'specific manufacturing and banking industries'."

"Not to mention rebuild and enrich the owners of those 'specific' industries." Capri snorted. "Captain, we know that the Gaian economy is going to change since making contact. The use of gold coins to pay for services and products will be nothing compared with advanced technology transfers."

"That's true, Rhonda. The Gaians have a robust economy at this particular time. An upsurge in population growth and further colonization of their other continents has driven the economy for the last thirty years. Now, I can see where a construction company that has access to plasticrete can drive everyone out of business and become a monetary monster. I'm sure the Acculturation Commission that's being set up will ensure equal access to new technology."

At the other side of the table Kosiba laid down the newsprint he was reading. "They may use the technology we'll offer, Captain, but there'll be some resentment. Sure, there'll be benefits from using non-polluting energy sources, and they'll never experience the pollution problems that faced Terra in the 20th and 21st centuries. But Gaians are nothing if not proud about their inventiveness. We may be perceived as the well-intentioned but nagging older brother, always looking over their shoulder and making changes from what we perceive as mistakes."

"I didn't expect to hear that statement from you, Tony. I thought you would say something about their utter lack of armed forces."

"Give me some credit, Cap'n. I'm a colonel, and that means that I've read at least one book that wasn't related to guns and tactics. College wasn't all beer and broads, and I actually learned something in Ancient Terran History classes," Kosiba said with a boyish grin. "Personally I'm happy that the Gaians had no need of an army for well over 500 years. Damn, they've been at peace for all that time, and that's something you can't say about Terra's pre-space history. But, for those all years of peace, the Gaians knew that they weren't alone in the universe. They've labored, studied, and built their way to the future they have now." He took a moment to sip some coffee before continuing. "Consciously, they were improving their quality of life. Unconsciously, though, they were hoping to return to Terra and offer gifts of knowledge like Rebecca and Pamela have done for them."

"I haven't thought of it that way," said Ichiba, taking a sip of coffee as well. "If things had been different, it very well could've been a Gaian ship that made first contact. The overall joy of being back in contact with the rest of humanity may have softened the blow to that unconscious drive, but that's still something we'll have to take into consideration."

Capri folded the newsprint she had in her hands so that the front page could be seen by her tablemates. A small black-and-white picture was on the right side the page, showing the image of a short female Commonwealth naval officer standing next to a rather tall Gaian man. "Good public relations will help also. Having Lieutenant Carson go and visit the various historical places on Gaia is good idea. It will go a long way to show the people that we're genuinely interested and appreciative of their history. Look at this; she'll be visiting the actual workshops where the Techie metal smiths made the first Hammerfist rifles."

Kosiba looked at the newspaper photo. "Ah, he's a tall piece of meat. Strong, too. I've seen several Gaian men that have the physique to make good marines. It seems a given that Carson women always attract the giant ones."

"Good PR indeed." Ichiba looked at his own copy of the newspaper. "I knew Carson would be picked for that assignment. She's spent more time down there to begin with, and she has her heritage as well. Having a direct descendent that was Pamela Parlor's earthbound brother is something akin to being related to royalty. I hope the Gaians don't go to the extreme of treating her like she was a goddess-sent angel."

Capri handed her paper to Kosiba. "At least she won't be down there all the time. She's in charge of fire control after Lieutenant Commander Weisz, and I need both of them to bring Ensign Proskel up to speed in fire control management and damage control."

"Heh," said the Captain after another sip of coffee. "Carson's new assignment was a much a surprise for her as it was for Proskel. This experience will be all the better for the ensign. For the next few weeks she'll be the second in charge of the ship's fire control system and associated fire control data links. Even now I bet she's memorizing the fire control routines so well that she can write them up in her sleep."

Description
Interior Minister Prym considered the last of the daily paperwork in his hand. He sighed as he placed the bane of his existence into an empty bin on his desk. Over the past few days he signed new ordinances that came to be known in the popular press as the 'Spaceman Controls'. The most obvious one was the restriction of shuttle flights over populated areas. Sonic booms produced by descending shuttles had unsettled certain segments of the population, mainly the shore fishermen. Prym knew fishermen were always of the superstitious lot, and any excuse to blame a poor catch would be welcomed. Loud startling booms that came from the sky would fit the bill nicely. Having the shuttles start their atmospheric landing approach further out at sea was a logical, and reasonable, ordinance to make.

The use of advanced technological devices was also addressed in the Spaceman Controls. Since there was no Gaian law covering 'anti-gravity' devices, Prym exercised his power and had such devices banned until such laws were created. Given the inherent inertia of the courts, along with some subtle prompting, such laws would be years in the making.

Retrieving a copy of the daily newspaper from his desk's upper-left drawer, Prym allowed a well-practiced frown to appear on his face. The most noise in the news now was the Hadala archeological findings. Admittedly the devices used by the Terran scientist Pablo Enriquez had gathered more information in far less time than with current 'local' methods. Prym mentally gagged at the thought that Gaian scientists were practically bystanders in their own field of endeavor. By the Goddess, he thought as he looked at the captioned photo of the scanning device used at Hadala, letting Javeus press the button is no better than a child turning the knob of a steam valve. Anyone could do that!

Truth be told, Prym had felt increasing pressure from his Luddite-minded constituents. Orent, his brother, had even taken the rare event of sending a letter, reminding him of the conversation they had earlier. It didn't matter that sympathetic friends in the news and industry had been working behind the scenes, raising true concerns and instilling doubt about the visitors in the minds of government and civilians alike. What Orent wanted was more 'overt skepticism'.

Looking over newspaper article again, Prym came to a decision. It was time that a high-ranking government official visit Hadala and see first-hand the work of the archeologists. He had a good idea that some of the local scientists were not too enthused about the spaceman technology. Professional 'dissent' over the use of foreign technology would prove helpful. Moreover, getting the ear of the Matriarch and gaining even a limited amount of support would help the Luddite cause.

Prym pressed a button on his desk intercom. The voice of his secretary Londa replied. "Yes, minister?"

"Londa, arrange a plane to take me to Hadala tomorrow morning. Assemble the usual entourage of assistants and press coverage."

"Yes, minister."

-------

"Gaia's greetings," said Nishna as she gripped Harkin's forearms in welcome. "I'm so glad that you'll be here for the foreseeable future."

"The feeling is mutual," replied Harkin. His first assignment as part of Captain Guntherson's liaison and cultural team was to observe a popular Gaian hobby. In this case it was miniature wargaming, and to Harkin's surprise he found that it was Nishna's hobby. The delight on his face when he walked in the well-attended gaming hall and saw Nishna there would've made for a memorable photo if a camera been available. He didn't peg the woman as one who played with metal miniatures of ancient warriors, and part of him wondered what other delightful surprises she had yet to show.

"Have you played with miniatures?" Nishna asked earnestly. She guided Harkin by the elbow to a nearby table covered with a huge, detailed gaming map. On that map were dozens of tiny metal figures, armed with weapons that would find service in both ancient Terran and Gaian armies. Picking up one the exquisitely detailed figures, Nishna held it in front of Harkin.

"At the Academy. Part of the ancient naval history classes included playing games. The instructors had the cadets use maps and models instead of holographic projections. I wished they did, however, because I tended to accidently crush those little models."

Nishna giggled. "Models made of wood, I suspect. These metal figures can leave a lasting mark." She showed the palm of her left hand to Harkin, revealing a scar roughly two centimeters long. "I've learned to become very aware where my hands are when handling my miniatures. You wouldn't have liked to have seen me when I got this mark."

"No less when I crushed the ships. Now, about these miniatures..."

"My miniatures," Nishna added proudly. "On this table all of them are mine. That one you're holding is a Hantan League swordsman." She picked up another figure from the table. "And this is a rifleman of the Thunderstroke Regiment, the first to fire the Hammerfist Rifle in combat. Painting the fine details took a great deal of patience."

Harkin had to agree as he looked at the other figurines on the table. The pikemen all had a shine on the heads of their weapons, and the longbowmen had the fletching on each drawn arrow painted. It was clear that Nishna was dedicated to her hobby, and Harkin was about to compliment her work when he noticed Lt. Carson approach. What's she doing here, he thought, and who's that with her?

"Hello, Ensign Harkin. I see that you've been assigned to write about miniature wargaming as well." Carson moved her gaze from Harkin to the pleasant-looking woman next to him. She knew about the ensign's previous assignment to the elementary school and wondered quietly why the-powers-that-be chose Nishna's class. With Harkin's heritage it was a wonder that he wasn't all over the schoolteacher like a cheap suit. The site of the woman's bare and inviting mid-riff would've sent Grandfather Harkin off like a lust-filled bomb.

"Yes, Lt. Carson. Captain Guntherson felt that my own interest in miniature wargaming would be an asset in this regard." He indicated to Nishna. "This is Miss Nishna Ironforge. You probably know about her from the papers."

The women embraced each other’s forearms in greeting, their pronounced busts making contact. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Ironforge. I'm Lieutenant Estelle Carson."

Nishna blushed, making a cute face that subliminally endeared Harkin to her all the more. "Oh, the Admiral's niece, and an inheritor of Parlor blood. You must be awed by what your ancestor accomplished on this world."

"An accurate assumption, Miss Ironforge." Carson had gotten use to the almost daily reminder of her heritage. Pamela Parlor was indeed her ancestor, but it was Gerald, Pamela's brother, that was her actual direct, but distant, relation the Parlor family. Given the profound change to Gaian society thanks in part to Pamela's knowledge and genes, not the very least the ampleness of its females, Carson could accept the attention she was given. Releasing her embrace, she then placed a hand on the forearm of her companion. "This is Jeln Kreyler, and he's a junior curator at the History of the People Museum."

"Gaia's greetings," Jeln said as he greeted Nishna and Harkin in turn. As Carson had appraised Nishna, it was the Ensign's turn to think about Jeln. He's a tall one, he admitted to himself, a little bit over the Admiral even. A set of ill thoughts that only ensigns could think about their superiors occurred to him. That puppy dog look on his face can only mean he's taken in by Carson's presence. No doubt the el-tee is taking advantage of that, like a little dog cowing a larger one into submission. All that's missing is a leash! Not to mention that Carson now has a handy bit of shade to depend on...

"Thinking particularly hard, Ensign?" said Carson casually.

Ouch! I must've made a sour face, he thought. "Well, Lt., I was thinking about the Battle of the Slope. It was the first and decisive use of the Hammerfist Rifle by the Techie Army. Judging from the miniatures on the table, we can see a wargaming recreation of that battle if Nishna is willing."

That was clearly what Nishna was waiting to hear. She went on over to the other side of the table and picked something up. It appeared to be large tool case, and she placed it on the table. Upon opening it, Nishna showed that instead of tools the case held whole phalanxes of miniatures. She eagerly placed the metal figures at their respective places on the map. "I hope you have the time for this. The Battle of the Slope takes about three hours to play through."

"This is my assignment for today," said Harkin.

"We have the time for it." Carson, with her hand back on Jeln's forearm, guided her tall companion to a nearby chair.

No leash, but she's improvising, thought Harkin. He quickly made a neutral face when Carson turned towards him. Damn, she's a mind reader or tuning in to my wetware. Better keep a passive 'mental screen' up while she's around.

In the meantime Nishna motioned to a pair of men at a nearby table. They came over, quite happy to have been invited into the presence of the naval officers. "These are two of my gaming friends. We'll be explaining the rules and game mechanics as we play out the battle. Do ask questions if you feel the need."

Feel indeed, thought Carson as she watched Harkin admiring more than just Nishna's miniatures. I bet a payday that Harkin's wishing he's one of those metal soldiers, stuck between her breasts. Pity he turned off his main biomed transmitter. His heart must be trying to burst of his chest.

"Now," Nishna said gleefully, rolling a pair of dice in a paper cup, it's time for the imitative roll."

-------

Captain Ichiba, Commander Capri, and Colonel Kosiba were sharing the same table in the Stroud's officer's mess. Their servings of breakfast had long been consumed, the plates and glasses spirited away by attentive mess stewards. In front of each of the officers were copies of Gaian newspapers. Admiral Carson thought it a good idea that his officers stayed informed of current 'local' news. It would have been a simple matter of making a composite document from all Gaian news sources, but the Admiral wanted his people to experience the news the same way Gaians did. So, for the past two weeks Ichiba has read three Gaian papers each morning and listened to Gaian radio two hours each day. In the economic section of the Silvertown Intelligencer he came upon an article that made him speak out.

"Here, look at this," Ichiba said, pointing to a part of the newsprint for Capri's benefit. "Someone's finally making major noise about our impact on the local economy."

"Major?" said the russet-haired commander as she fished for the appropriate section from her own pile of newsprint. "I thought that the increased trading in their stock markets would qualify."

"That is just part of what this writer is saying. Indeed, the writer contends that we're setting up the whole economy for a fall. When that happens, we'll move in and help rebuild 'specific manufacturing and banking industries'."

"Not to mention rebuild and enrich the owners of those 'specific' industries." Capri snorted. "Captain, we know that the Gaian economy is going to change since making contact. The use of gold coins to pay for services and products will be nothing compared with advanced technology transfers."

"That's true, Rhonda. The Gaians have a robust economy at this particular time. An upsurge in population growth and further colonization of their other continents has driven the economy for the last thirty years. Now, I can see where a construction company that has access to plasticrete can drive everyone out of business and become a monetary monster. I'm sure the Acculturation Commission that's being set up will ensure equal access to new technology."

At the other side of the table Kosiba laid down the newsprint he was reading. "They may use the technology we'll offer, Captain, but there'll be some resentment. Sure, there'll be benefits from using non-polluting energy sources, and they'll never experience the pollution problems that faced Terra in the 20th and 21st centuries. But Gaians are nothing if not proud about their inventiveness. We may be perceived as the well-intentioned but nagging older brother, always looking over their shoulder and making changes from what we perceive as mistakes."

"I didn't expect to hear that statement from you, Tony. I thought you would say something about their utter lack of armed forces."

"Give me some credit, Cap'n. I'm a colonel, and that means that I've read at least one book that wasn't related to guns and tactics. College wasn't all beer and broads, and I actually learned something in Ancient Terran History classes," Kosiba said with a boyish grin. "Personally I'm happy that the Gaians had no need of an army for well over 500 years. Damn, they've been at peace for all that time, and that's something you can't say about Terra's pre-space history. But, for those all years of peace, the Gaians knew that they weren't alone in the universe. They've labored, studied, and built their way to the future they have now." He took a moment to sip some coffee before continuing. "Consciously, they were improving their quality of life. Unconsciously, though, they were hoping to return to Terra and offer gifts of knowledge like Rebecca and Pamela have done for them."

"I haven't thought of it that way," said Ichiba, taking a sip of coffee as well. "If things had been different, it very well could've been a Gaian ship that made first contact. The overall joy of being back in contact with the rest of humanity may have softened the blow to that unconscious drive, but that's still something we'll have to take into consideration."

Capri folded the newsprint she had in her hands so that the front page could be seen by her tablemates. A small black-and-white picture was on the right side the page, showing the image of a short female Commonwealth naval officer standing next to a rather tall Gaian man. "Good public relations will help also. Having Lieutenant Carson go and visit the various historical places on Gaia is good idea. It will go a long way to show the people that we're genuinely interested and appreciative of their history. Look at this; she'll be visiting the actual workshops where the Techie metal smiths made the first Hammerfist rifles."

Kosiba looked at the newspaper photo. "Ah, he's a tall piece of meat. Strong, too. I've seen several Gaian men that have the physique to make good marines. It seems a given that Carson women always attract the giant ones."

"Good PR indeed." Ichiba looked at his own copy of the newspaper. "I knew Carson would be picked for that assignment. She's spent more time down there to begin with, and she has her heritage as well. Having a direct descendent that was Pamela Parlor's earthbound brother is something akin to being related to royalty. I hope the Gaians don't go to the extreme of treating her like she was a goddess-sent angel."

Capri handed her paper to Kosiba. "At least she won't be down there all the time. She's in charge of fire control after Lieutenant Commander Weisz, and I need both of them to bring Ensign Proskel up to speed in fire control management and damage control."

"Heh," said the Captain after another sip of coffee. "Carson's new assignment was a much a surprise for her as it was for Proskel. This experience will be all the better for the ensign. For the next few weeks she'll be the second in charge of the ship's fire control system and associated fire control data links. Even now I bet she's memorizing the fire control routines so well that she can write them up in her sleep."