It was too bad Cally couldn’t be up here. The crew lounge was probably the most comfortable area on the whole ship. The chairs were upholstered in a really good imitation of brown leather, and a holographic fireplace crackled merrily against one wall. A discreet air freshener at the bottom corner of the fireplace’s vidscreen released a faint, homey odor of hot wood smoke. There were several small tables that could lock together in groups, or not, and they actually had a decent wet bar. Of course, the coffee can for donations and their immunity to alcohol dampened the fun of that, but you couldn’t have everything.
Tommy looked up from a game of backgammon with Papa O’Neal as the navigator came into the lounge and approached him.
“Sir, we just received a short-range encrypted transmission from a neighboring ship. The message header said it was for you.” He handed Tommy a data cube.
“Thank you.” He set it beside the backgammon board, ignoring the man’s hesitation until he apparently gave up on the possibility of snooping and wandered off in the direction of the bridge.
“I think I’ll go check on Felicia, if you don’t mind interrupting our game.” She’d kill him if she didn’t get to see this message as soon as it was decrypted. Not that he blamed her. If it was Wendy down there, he’d be biting his nails, too.