This is better, but still Grey-17 bad. Very sorry. Tired I am.
Pleasantries, as usual, were exchanged, with Tirk hanging back silently, taking a position behind Malcolm. A stiff, expectant moment passed through the crew as Martel stood and surveyed them with the hurt, set face of a deposed king, crossing his arms in front of him.
"We will depart Minbar at 0400 three days from now. We are to reach the Drazi Freehold at a reasonable speed and restock. Our cargo is two Drazi envoys. Our mission is to deliver them to an undisclosed location, whereupon we will return to Minbar for reassignment." He paused, turned on his heel, and paced, slowly, one hand consistently dropping to rest on the back of his chair, as he let the bad news sink in; he continued, for the moment stemming the inevitable tide of outraged questions from his crew. "Just because we are once again running the taxi service for the luminaries of the Interstellar Alliance does not mean we can afford to sacrifice the vigilance for which we are so reputed."
Dulann made a mental note to inform David of the fact that his vocabulary increased when he was angry, sarcastic, or both.
"Remember to stay awake out there," Martel continued, moving from one point to the next without a beat. "We'll run this like the last three so we can concentrate on making sure the Liandra can handle the circuitry we'll be installing tomorrow morning. Malcolm, you'll be point contact; that should make adequate use of your talence. Sarah is cha
'sa. Na'feel, keep our new systems running at optimum, because, as we all know, the old girl really enjoys handling engines built for ships three times as young."
If the world had crashed in a flaming orgy of destruction around Kitaro's ears at that very moment, the news couldn't have been worse. He cast a glance, as he usually did in such situations, at Sarah - she was sitting, her white-knuckled hands gripping the worktable, obviously about to explode with questions. Waiting for the.
"And that's it. Any questions?"
- moment when she would be allowed to speak, which came quickly.
"Another taxi run," Sarah said, the disappointment in her voice quite palpable as the undercurrent of anger running under Na'feel's voice. "Underappreciated again."
Martel smiled, jauntily, and took his seat. "You're obviously not one to look on the bright side of things, are you, Sarah?"
Sarah tilted her head, the wry expression on her face all the answer anyone needed.
"There's more," Martel continued. "Tonight, myself, Sarah, Malcolm, and Dulann are to report to Council offices for a supporting deposition regarding the Enfalli matter. It's my understanding that the IA Enforcement Oversight Committee has requested it, so remember the facts and don't wander. Tafeek, you'll have the bridge while we're gone. Na'feel, Tirk, make sure our new equipment arrives undamaged and in working order. When you get back, Sarah, help them." He paused to collect his thoughts. "And that's it. If you don't have anything to add, you're dismissed."
No one said a word.
Except for Sarah, who muttered something that vaguely sounded like a Fik curse, leaned back in her chair, and waited, and Kitaro, who hovered over his tasks once more with bent shoulders.
And Martel himself, who found himself pondering the difference between death and uselessness - and which one was truly better.