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blown out of the sky for pulling a stunt like that.”
    Krystal chuckled and eased their engines back to just two Gs. “I estimate six hours to the dock. Cards?”
    “Aces this time,” Erica agreed, and the incident was all but forgotten as they got down to serious business.
    * * *
    It took six more months before the Wells was ready to leave the dock, but the yardbirds had done a magnificent job on her. Her original lines had been refined and slimmed down, changing her from a snarling Rottweiler of the fleet to a racing Greyhound of the track. Her lines had been cleaned up, the warts of her early-design gamma-ray lasers removed, and smooth skin ran down her flanks without a blemish. She still had teeth, but even they were trim and elegant: two of the newest model gamma-ray lasers and six concealed torpedo tubes with a loadout of twenty-four ten-megaton hyper-drive torpedoes.
    Captain Reordan thumbed the intercom to life and addressed her crew. “All hands, prepare to leave dock. All hands prepare for acceleration in one minute.” She closed the mic and smiled at her XO. “Mister Frazier, single up all lines, prepare to cast off.”
    Kellin Frazier answered, “Aye, Ma’am, single up all lines and prepare to cast off.” In ports all down the length of the ship, men and women prepared to disconnect the tethers that held them in the dock.
    At the one-minute mark, Captain Reordan ordered, “Cast off all lines.” Commander Frazier echoed the order and the Wells was free. “Helm,” the captain continued, “maneuvering thrusters ahead one quarter.” The ship shivered, then the dock started sliding backwards in the view screens. It took eleven minutes to clear the dock and Captain Reordan ordered, “Helm, all ahead one half. Course zero-seven-one by two-one-nine.”
    It took just a moment for the helmsman to report, “Ma’am, answering ahead one half, steady on course zero-seven-one by two-one-nine.”
    Captain Reordan answered, “Very well, helm.” She thumbed her mic to life and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are cruising at half power in normal space.” She paused because she could hear the cheering of her crew echoing through the ship. “Helm, ahead full. Let’s go see what’s out there.”
     
    First in Her Class © 2009
     

 
Leave Nothing to Chance
    A N ATTRACTIVE WOMAN WITH SHORT-CROPPED brown hair walked through the corridors of the CSS Naval Command Center and stopped at the door of the First Lord of the Admiralty’s office and spoke to the identiplate on the wall, as she had done dozens of times before.
    “Captain Erica Reordan of the Temporal Cruiser CSS H.G. Wells , reporting as ordered,” she announced. A red-light laser scanned her face for an instant then vanished.
    “Enter,” a feminine voice replied as the door opened. “The First Lord is waiting for you, Captain Reordan. Please follow me,” the yeoman said as she led the way to the First Lord’s door. The door opened before she arrived, revealing First Lord of the Admiralty Devero Kenyon sitting behind his desk.
    “Ah, Captain Reordan, come in, come in. Have a seat. I trust that your leave was pleasant.”
    Captain Reordan seated herself carefully across the desk from the elderly lord. “As always, Lord Devero. How may I be of service?”
    Lord Devero laughed lightly. “Right to business, eh Erica? Very well. We have received a request for a timeship to make a jump to Old Earth, to the year 5535 BCE. There is some agricultural event that the historians are debating, and it has devolved into a source of major contention at Sol University. We want you to take your ship to Old Earth and observe the Asian Continent from planting to harvest, approximately April to September. Make the most detailed recording that you can, then return. It’s amazing how much clout some of these academics have with the government.” He shook his head in mock wonder while Captain Reordan simply smiled.
    “As you command, Lord Devero. Are there