FIRST MATE JACK HAGGARDY rubbed his graying stubble. Around him, in the passenger cabin of the shuttle, sat most of the Galathea’s officers. Eight defense units stood at the edges of the cabin, as many as the space accommodated. The rest of them had been left behind on the ship. The units were unseated, and their weapons were fixed on the officers. No one was speaking.
Haggardy certainly wasn’t going to attract any attention. Not rocking the boat had been his MO for his entire career aboard prospecting ships, and it had served him well. Always following orders to the letter, no matter what, never gainsaying superior officers in public or private, never back-stabbing, being constantly congenial and easy to work with, and so on. He was no one’s enemy, and everyone thought him their friend.
