Page 29 of Star Prince

If there were space rocks in the sector, they were not visible to the naked eye. The front viewscreen showed nothing but a star-filled void. However, three-dimensional, temperature enhanced images on her instruments warned of innumerable obstructions between theSun Deviland Barésh.

Huge space-boulders tumbled past. Just as she reached for her cooling cup of coffee, Tee’ah felt an odd vibration from somewhere under her seat, then theSun Devilbanked right all on its own.

Tee’ah grabbed hold of the control yoke as a loud klaxon began belching, telling her what she already knew—the computer was no longer steering the ship through the debris field.Shewas.

“Hang on,” she shouted.

Her heart drummed a staccato beat, but her hands held the controls, and the ship, steady. Guided by the images on her instruments, she chose which way to turn to avoid the asteroids, though she didn’t weave between them as precisely as the computer might have.

She thought of the day she docked the cargo freighter on Mistraal. Captain Aras had been there, ready to offer her instruction—or take over if need be. Tonight there was no one watching over her. Only her skill could get the ship safely past danger.

Her stomach squeezed tightly.Concentrate.

At last theflight path smoothed out, and she made the transition from asteroid dodging to final approach. A domed city and what she assumed was the mining operation clung to the surface of the dwarf planet like a glittering para-tick. “Barésh—dead ahead,” she said, feeling thankful that she and her crewweren’tdead. Things were looking up.

Moments later, she docked in their assigned spot, a berth connected by a pressurized tube leading into the immense habitation dome.

Slumping back in her seat, she blew a stream of air out of her mouth then told Ian. “Docking complete.”

Quin muttered a silent prayer of thanks and unbuckled from his seat. Then Gredda and Push thumped a few thankful, hearty pats on her back before they left to check for bounced-around goods in the cargo bay.

Ian’s gray-green eyes glowed. “I could use a crowbar to pry my hands from these armrests. But that was some flying, Ace.”

She smiled with pleasure at his compliment. “The appropriate starpilot response would be—it was nothing.”

“No.” His voice softened a fraction. “You’re really something.”

They regarded each other in the star-drenched shadows. Reflected in Ian’s eyes was a capable and adventurous woman—not atoo-often-reproached king’s daughter who had laughedtoo hard, talked too much, and escaped into daydreams always more vivid than her life. No, in the Earth-dweller’s gaze she saw only her marvelous transformation.

Princess Tee’ah Dar had disappeared. Pilot Tee was here to stay.

While the pixiebusied herself with after-landing checks, Ian sat up, elbows on his knees, and ran his fingers through his hair. They had narrowly missed plowing head-on into that asteroid!

God, he must be crazy, hiring someone he knew so little about. Sure, he had confidence in his instincts, in his abilities to pick good people to work for him…but that gut wrenching ride through those space rocks made him wonder if, in Tee’s case, he trusted himself too much. He could picture his mother weeping at his funeral, and Rom B’kah standing by her side, secretly thankful that his stepson had died before he could assume the throne to the galaxy—since it was obvious the boy couldn’t even staff his ship with a competent pilot.

But Tee had come through for him beautifully. Her quick and accurate recovery to what might have been a fatal malfunction had kept him and his crew alive. And for that Ian was grateful.

He pushed himself off his command chair and joined Quin, who was hunched over a viewscreen, studying maintenance readouts on what was quickly turning out to be their lemon of a starship. “Whathappenedthis time?”he asked the mechanic with a baleful look.

“I don’t know.”

Ian stared at him for a long moment. “That inspires confidence.”

“I’m at my wits’ end too, Captain. Automatic flight guidance systems go out; that’s not unheard of. It’s why we always have someone posted at the controls. But we should have gotten a warning before the whole thing went belly up; there are alarms built in for just that purpose.”

“And even in the case of a breakdown, shouldn’t the backup system take over automatically?”

Quin spread his hands. “Yes. Which tells me there’s a software problem. But I’ve done a diagnostic, and the computer says there are no malfunctions.”

“Maybe the computer is wrong.” Ian thought of the frustrating breakdowns they had suffered over the past few weeks, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. How much bad luck could one crew have? “Work on it.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Ian grabbed his jacket, then called out to his crew, “Tee, Muffin, you’re with me. As standard, we’ll check in every hour.”

Tee turned around in her chair. “I’m going?”

Ian wasn’t sure what had prompted him to take her, so he answered nonchalantly. “I believe that’s what I said.”

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