Bechimo
Dock A
The comm pinged.
Clarence tapped the switch.
“Bechimo. O’Berin on deck.”
“Clarence O’Berin, this is Acting First Light Keeper Ren Zel dea’Judan. I invoke the Safe Docks clause of the Pilots Guild Handbook, and attach you as a deputy under the direct supervision of the light keeper’s office.”
Clarence blinked.
“You gotta have somebody better equipped for that sort o’thing than I am,” he said.
He glanced to the screen at his right, which showed an empty office, lights dim, and work screens blued.
“Are you telling me that the former Boss of Solcintra Low Port is unable to interface with Terran spacers, maintenance, and repair crews, answer their questions and keep work to schedule?”
Clarence drew a breath.
“Put that way…but I’m pretty sure those regs you’re tossing around have a provision. You need permission from my captain.”
“Who needs permission from your captain?” Theo demanded, striding onto the bridge like she was about to do a murder, or worse.
She stopped in front of the screen, and stared balefully into the empty room.
“Acting First Light Keeper Ren Zel dea’Judan wants to deputize me to ride herd on those o’the second wave, arrived and arriving, and interface with their supervisors and team leaders. Do I got that right, Light Keeper dea’Judan?”
“You do.”
Theo spun away from the window into Joyita’s desolate office.
“We were sent to help,” she said flatly, and Clarence felt a small shiver run his spine.
“So we were,” he said gently. He addressed the comm.
“Let me pack a bag, laddie. I’ll ask for a ride to my station.”
“Hazenthull will drive you. She is on her way to your dock.”