Constitution: Book 1 of the Legacy Fleet Trilogy Read Online Free Page B

were, Corporal.”
    He snapped back to attention and she strode down the hallway to the elevator shaft. Maybe if she found the astrometrics lab she could get a head start on converting it into a planetarium.
    The captain’s blunt declaration repeated in her mind and grated her nerves. No , he’d said. How dare he? Admiral Yarbrough had recruited her herself for this job. She’d promised her that if she could successfully handle a smooth transition of the Constitution into one of the Smithsonian’ s centerpiece museums then she’d be up for a command position.  
    Ha—command. Something she’d always dreamed of in her previous life as a scientist. It wasn’t until she gave that career up and joined IDF that the prospect suddenly become more real, especially with her well-placed friends higher up in IDF’s Science and Research Division. And with Yarbrough as her new patron, Proctor would rise quickly. She might not be the youngest captain on record, but definitely the captain with the fewest years of service.
    But Yarbrough had warned her about Granger. A washed-up, cantankerous old soldier who’d had more than his share of discipline problems. The admiralty was doing its damnedest to ease him out of command, and it seemed decommissioning the Old Bird a few years ahead of schedule was the easiest way to do that.
    The doors to the astrometrics lab slid open, revealing banks of computer access stations and walls of monitors, which, at the flip of a switch could project three dimensional holographic images of whichever starfield or planetary system the user wanted. Perfect for the future museum’s new planetarium.
    “Excuse me, Commander?”
    An older lieutenant peered up at her from his station. His eyes squinted, and the frown indicated she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
    “Yes, Lieutenant?”
    “I’m sorry, but the captain called down a few moments ago. He informed me that the astrometrics lab is closed for the rest of the duty shift today, and will not reopen until the morning.”
    Granger, you old bastard.  
    “Excellent—with the lab closed that will help me be able to get a head start on the modifications to—”
    The Lieutenant held up a hand, breaching decorum by interrupting her. “I’m sorry, sir, but he was quite clear. No modifications are to happen before tomorrow morning.”
    She bristled. How dare he? She had half a mind to get on the comm and ask Yarbrough to beat the old fart into submission for her.
    But no. That was not the way to impress the admiralty. If she had Yarbrough fight her battles for her, how could they ever trust her with command?
    No, she’d have to be patient. Persistent. Granger may try to oppose her at every turn—in fact, she was sure by that point that he’d throw up every roadblock he could. But she’d push forward anyway.
    That captain’s chair would be hers, dammit. But not on this piece of junk, thank God, Proctor indulged, allowing herself to feel superior. Her ship would be new—top of the IDF line. All she had to do was get there.
    She looked down at the waiting man. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
    And with one last glance around the astrometrics lab, she swept out the door, leaving a slightly disappointed-looking lieutenant. Granger had probably instructed him to prod a reaction out of her. Well, she wasn’t going to play along.
    In fact, she’d just have to prod harder.

Chapter Eight

    Veracruz Sector, Leon System
    IDF Intelligence Ship ISS Tirian

    “Navigation, time to the Merida system?”
    The officer at navigation tapped a few spots on his command console. “We’re on the outskirts of the Leon system, sir. Thirty-nine q-jumps left until we reach Merida.”
    Commander LaPlace fiddled with his uniform—there was a loose strand at his sleeve and no matter how much he picked at it, more seemed to unravel. “What do you say, about an hour?” he said, calculating in his head how much time it would take