The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1

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as we try to cross it and explore it, we take it with us. No matter how far we go, the frontier will always be just that

the ultimate frontier – as wide as it is deep. Stars shine coldly in the unimaginable blackness. Out of the darkness, a tiny speck caught the dis

s pet dog lying on his lap. The wickerwork garden chair creaked pleasantly under him and some n

a-min

hing that occurred to him was the terrible bone-wracking pain running up and down his spine. Pain? No, curiously enough. It was the memory of it that seemed to hurt so much. Maybe that's w

…like – someone frying crisps, actually. Weaver had suddenly gone rigid, screaming, then glowed a bright yellow, which alternated with a luminous blue and neon pink. It was a rather nice blue, he remembered. What the hell was that? Oh yes. T

ing himself, Mykl lifted his head off the hard deck he'd been lying on, turning it carefully from side to side just to make sure his neck wasn't broken. It wasn't he concluded, and carefully sat up. Then, coughing from the electromagnetic dust in the air, he shook

munications panel in the wall in front of him seemed to be working, bu

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he bridge! Ans

othing more he could do here anyhow. He couldn't hope to assess the damage, but he realized it mu

ed in an unnatural position on the deck. Turning it over, he recognized it as Full

tty ordinary – except for the third body of the day, which was lying spread-eagled on the deck with an almost comical look of surprise on his face. Jang was

t of him. He sighed another deep sigh. It seemed to be a wonderful day for Mykl d'Angelo, captain and owner of t

too well with his raggedy civvy crew, and there was often friction between them during the few short months of his career as skipper of the Pegasus. The last straw fell when his former crew mutinied a day out of the Hermes system and demanded a pay increase. They also demanded more time off and a better cook – at least one who knew which end of a frying pan to hold. The union tended to call that sort of thing 'collective bargaining', not actually mutiny – but hey, the results were the same. Personally, Mykl favored the term 'piracy', but this wasn't the high seas and out here, there were real pirates to worry about. Mykl's finances being what they were,

events were any indication of what the future held in store for him – then he could expect a pretty rotten wee

this line of work, speed and endurance – and keeping to time tables, was everything. Pegasus wasn't really efficient at anything anymore, except perhaps at breaking down at awkward times. Newer ships were more efficient, but he couldn't afford one. He could bar

scan of the ship's systems – that is, until Weaver reported a minor problem down in engineering and asked Mykl to give him a hand. Mykl didn't have much entech training at the Academy, nor had he picked up much more expertise on warp engines while serving on t

egasus, a cylindrical ship about a kilometer long, was doing somersaults nose over tail. He deftly brought the maneuvering thrusters into play, slowing the tumble caused by the explosion to a stop. The stars stopped whirling. A stable ship helped him to feel better. It was at least a start. A chime from the console told him the diagnostic scan was ready – it elicited another pained moan. To say tha

ld together by bits of wire and duct tape. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but it wasn't far from the truth. Weavers' mistake had cost him the stardrive – and Fuller and Jang their lives. "Blown up"

ass through space also away from the main trade routes. Now he sat alone in space, on a disabled starship about fifty years from anywhere on conversion drive – assuming he still had that. He did not. What he did have was the Short Shit – the ship's only shuttle, which was basically a space-going jalopy that he m