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series of optics that kept the radiations of darkspace at bay. None of the ship’s other sensors were functional in the odd realm filled with dark energy and dark matter — they’d have to wait until they transitioned back to normal-space at a Lagrangian point in some star system before those could tell them anything.
    The spacers who’d be standing the middle watch with her were already present, waiting beside the consoles they’d be manning, some whispering with those going off watch to pass along anything important. Not that there would be much of that since they’d taken the frigate that had been dogging the convoy’s heels.
    All of the spacers for the next watch were present, Alexis noted, save Artley, but just as the final note of the bell sounded, the hatchway slid open and he rushed onto the quarterdeck smoothing his uniform and trying to control his gasps for breath.
    Barr gave Alexis a small grimace and Alexis fought down a surge of irritation. She was torn between sympathy for the lad having to make his way in a strange environment and irritation that he couldn’t manage to find his way to his watch station until the very last moment.
    Was I ever in such a state? she asked herself, struggling not to smile at the thought.
    “I have the deck, Lieutenant Barr,” she said.
    “The deck is yours,” he agreed. “There are no changes to the standing orders.” He nodded to her, and glanced at Artley who was murmuring to Thedford at the signals console. Everyone else from the previous watch had already left the quarterdeck. He gave a little sigh and shrugged to her before leaving.
    Alexis reviewed the state of the navigation plot, noting the positions of the ships in the convoy. She settled into her place to enjoy the quiet for a time. She’d always liked standing the middle watch best, running from the ship’s midnight to four a.m. when the hands would wake and Shrewsbury would begin to bustle and echo with the sounds of the day’s activity.
    In the quiet of the night, with the other officers and Captain Euell all asleep, Shrewsbury was truly hers. Barring a storm or significant change in the winds, she could order sail and course changes, even issue orders to the entire convoy, without anyone questioning her. She caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep from grinning.
    Until morning when the captain reviews the log and asks why I’ve sent his convoy zig-zagging about to my whims.
    “Mister Artley, a throw of the log, if you please,” she said. “I’d admire an update to our course.”
    “Aye, sir.”
    She made a point of watching surreptitiously as he worked the signals console to send her order out to the spacers minding the sails. Darkspace was a featureless void, with not even stars to navigate by — only a constantly roiling mass of shadowy storms were visible in the distance. Once a ship was out of sight of a system’s pilot boat, assuming there was one, the only way to navigate was through dead reckoning.
    One of spacers would have to take the log to the ship’s keel and launch the weighted bag outside of Shrewsbury’s field, where it would stick in the morass of dark matter that permeated darkspace. The bag was attached to a line and timed. How much line was pulled out in that time would tell Alexis how fast Shrewsbury was traveling and the angles to the bag at the end would give her an idea of the ship’s speed, course, and drift.
    What made the whole system work was the odd effect darkspace had on distances. The farther a ship traveled from a star system, from any normal-space mass, really, the faster or farther it traveled in darkspace , but to the ship itself, the speed appeared constant and quite slow. So though the thrown log might only strip a few hundred meters of line off the log’s reel, Shrewsbury herself might have made light years of normal-space distance.
    Or not … I never have been sure if we’re traveling faster or farther or what.
    Since a ship could only