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Academy boy. Don't get many of those anymore."
    Later still, in snatches, he told me what he thought of our ship's officers. He didn't say a lot.
    Thumbnail sketches. He didn't want to talk about his command. He responded to my earlier question just before we collected his First Watch Officer.
    "Somebody owes her. They put the hose to her. She'll never get off this rock. Might as well use my place."
    What can you say to that? Call him a sucker for strays? I don't think so. I'd call it a case of one man's using otherwise unimportant resources to rectify one of this universe's countless injustices. I think that's the way he pictured it. I don't think thumbscrews would have forced him to admit it.
    The First Watch Officer was Stefan Yanevich. Lieutenant. Another Canaan native. A long, lanky man with ginger hair and eyes that sometimes looked gray, sometimes pale blue. Thin, sharp features and sleepy eyes. A soft drawl when he spoke, which was seldom. He was as reticent as my friend the Commander.
    He was waiting outside his quarters, alone, and looked eager to go. But there was no eagerness in the way he slung his duffel aboard.
    He had long, slim fingers that moved while he gave me his biography. Twenty-five. His Academy class had been two behind ours. He'd volunteered for Canaan because it was his homeworld. This would be his sixth mission.
    The Commander thought well of him. He would have his own ship next mission.
    He accepted me without question. I supposed the Commander had vouched for me. He didn't seem interested in why I was here, or who I used to be. Again, I assumed the Commander had filled him in.
    The Old Man said, "Next stop, the kid."
    Yanevich became interested. "Met him yet? What's he like?"
    "Came up last week. Squared away. Shows promise. We'll like him." There was an edge to his voice .
    It said it didn't matter if anyone liked the new man, but it would be a nice bonus if he turned out okay.
    Ensign Bradley was as quiet as the others, but more naturally so. He wasn't hiding from anything.
    When he did speak, he successfully downplayed his own lack of experience. He drew both the Commander and First Watch Officer out more skillfully than I had. I pegged him as a very bright and personable young man—when he turned himself on. He wasn't a Ca-naanite. In an aside to me, he said, "I flipped a coin when I got my bars. Heads or tails, Fleet or Climbers. Came up heads. The Fleet." He smiled a broad, boyish smile, the kind to win a mother's love. "So I went best two out of three and three out of five. Voila! Here I am."
    "Going to make Admiral in a year," the Old Man said.
    "Might take longer than that." Bradley's grin weakened.
    "What I don't understand is why they sent me out here instead of to Fleet Two. Admiral Tannian is self-sufficient."
    "Maybe too self-sufficient," I suggested. "Some people in Luna Command think he's too independent.
    He's got his own little empire out here."
    The Commander glanced back. "That something you know, or just speculation?"
    "Half and half."
    Yanevich grunted. My friend lapsed into indifference. Later, he said, "T-ville coming up. First Watch Officer, I'll drop you and Bradley at the north gate. I'll take my friend sight-seeing."
    Earlier, there had been a big raid. The sky over Turbeyville had been filled with ships and missiles. I'd expressed an interest in seeing the aftermath. Once I did, I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
    Njvy has two headquarters in-system. One is beneath Turbeyville. The other is buried deep inside Canaan's major moon. Canaan has two satellites, tiny TerVeen and the big moon, which has no other name. Just the moon. I was glad of a chance to poke around one headquarters before the mission.
    I roamed alone. The Commander, First Watch Officer, and Ship's Services Officer were busy with what looked like make-work, preparing for the mission. I found myself more welcome among the PRsensitive staff at Climber Command. They arranged interviews with people whose names