"But surely, sir," said Tallentire, "we should be able to get away from Antrim the same way as we got to it.  With you as pilot, and with Her Imperial Highness and Commander Bronheim at the Mannschenn Drive controls..."

"And with you to play a solo, as required, on the console of your battle organ..." added Trafford.  And then he looked at his officer severely.  "Mr. Tallentire, must I remind you yet again that you signed on as Second Mate, and that the Second Mate of a merchantman is the navigator?  Come to that, must I also remind you that the only rank held by Mrs. Trafford is that of Mate of this vessel; she is no longer Her Imperial Highness - and the fewer people who hear you referring to her in those words, the better.  Anyhow, you are the navigator.  On paper, at least.  As such you should have some rough idea as to what the Interstellar Drive can and can not do.

"Our somewhat unorthodox approach maneuver succeeded for only one reason: after a long voyage we had built up enough momentum, just barely enough to carry us through the millions of years of temporal inertia possessed by a planet such as this.  But we cannot start from cold on a planetary surface.  Furthermore, even if we could, we should soon find ourselves in trouble.  Within a second we should have violated that well-known law of physics, the one that states that two solid bodies cannot occupy the same position at the same time.  So..."

"So what do we do, sir?  Oh, I know that there would be far worse worlds than this to be marooned upon, and once the antibiotics we brought have the plague licked it will be very pleasant indeed."  His manner brightened.  "But sooner or later the Hallicheki will forget about this confrontation business, and I shall be able to get back to my proper work."

"It's a damn pity that you didn't get a dose of hallucinogens with the rest of us," Trafford told him.  "Then you wouldn't be so keen on shooting and being shot at."

"But we're mercenaries, sir," pointed out Tallentire.  "And shooting is the main part of the mercenary's trade."

While Trafford was considering his reply, he heard Irene calling from just outside the wardroom door, "Come on, Benjamin.  Have you forgotten that we're going to give Their Excellencies a piece of our minds?  You'll have plenty of time to play at spacemanship instructor when we get back to the ship."

"Don't keep Her Imperial Highness waiting..." murmured Tallentire.