7
“Morg, we have to cut back the shadow drive to twenty percent.”
“Why? That’s the initial phase for docking. I don’t see anywhere to dock.”
“Look at the navigation screen. Do you see anything?”
At first, Morg saw nothing but open space; certainly no place they could dock the transport. He was ready to tell the kid he was making a mistake slowing down when in his peripheral vision he saw a glimmering, outlined image on the screen.
“What’s this?” Morg pointed at the screen with one of his pincer fingers which was long and slender with four knuckles.
“It’s a cloaking star. It’s called Ziptowtheon. That’s where we are going to dock.”
Morg looked over at the Earthling in the co-pilot’s gyro chair. He wondered for the first time, “Who exactly is this Earthling? He’s not the immature simp
