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asteroids between Mars and Jupiter; the Jupiter Trojan was another cloud of asteroids and debris.
    The captain glanced at the time display and suppressed a smile. His plotted course to achieve the quickest route to Neptune orbit had taken them through one of the densely packed debris clouds. He could have waited another few hours and taken the Hudson on a safer and more circuitous route, but he trusted O’Connell’s ability to get them safely through this cloud of treacherous objects. She had done it in forty-five minutes less than anticipated.
    “Very well, Commander. You have the bridge until Lieutenant Price relieves you at 1900 hours. I wish to be updated on an hourly basis as to our status.” He paused at the door to the vacuum tube. “And, Commander, please turn the proximity sensors back on.”
    O’Connell’s jaw clenched, and she glared at the view screen. The innocent instruction grated on her overly sensitive nerves. Since their conversation of the evening before, each comment from the captain seemed laden with condemnation. She released the control stick and reached over with her right hand to flick the sensors back on. They were a nuisance during an asteroid fly-by, but orders were orders. She sat, relaxed, in her seat glaring at the screens before her for the next hour, trying to calm down and talk herself out of a building rage.
    “Ma’am?” O’Connell looked up to see Ensign Robertson standing beside her, looking down.
    “Yes, Ensign?”
    Nate swallowed audibly, a habit he seemed to have when nervous. He sounded rather like a cow swallowing its cud, though the comparison would have horrified him into an imbecilic state. “Ma’am, I think I’ve plotted a course that will cut another two hours off our passage of Jupiter and bypass the nearest Jupiter Trojan.”
    Maggie’s eyes narrowed with interest. Avoidance of the next cluster of asteroids would be ideal, but the last course plots she’d seen would require at least a glancing trip through their peripheries. “Do tell, Ensign.”
    He transmitted the latest course projections. The routes he mentioned had just been suggested by the computer two minutes earlier. O’Connell tapped a few buttons on her own systems displays and brought up the latest projected course and their planned route. She spent several minutes comparing the plots. Finally, when Ensign Robertson was on the verge of a nervous fit, she looked up at him and smiled. “Excellent work, Ensign. I will summon the captain to the bridge. You will kindly present him with your recommendations.”
    Nate’s dark skin flushed darker and then paled just as quickly. “My recommendations? I should present them?”
    Maggie resisted rolling her green eyes. “You made them, didn’t you? The captain doesn’t bite, Ensign. He does require intellectual honesty of his officers, all of his officers. I certainly am not going to present your work as my own, and I most certainly am not going to speak for you.” Her speech was delivered in a soft voice that carried no further than the two of them. She was aware that the rest of the bridge crew, eight people in all, watched them closely.
    Robertson stood straighter. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”
    “Return to your station.” She turned away from him and hit the communicator signal for the captain. “Captain to the bridge for course correction advisement, please.”
    There was a pause before he answered. “Acknowledged.”
    Hill arrived on the bridge ten minutes later. He glanced at Turner, the sensor heads-up display, and O’Connell’s chair. “Well, Commander?”
    Robertson cleared his throat and brushed at the front of his creased brown uniform slacks. “Pardon me, sir, but Commander O’Connell summoned you at my request.”
    “At your request, Ensign?” The captain arched a brow and descended into his chair. “Well then, what can I do for you, Ensign?”
    Nate swallowed three times and tried to think pleasant thoughts as he relayed his