The small craft that nestled there was a marvel of efficiency over art. Not a square centimeter occupied its trim frame. Her name, enameled upon the hull forward of the main hatch, was CK-M945B. True, there was little euphony in the designation, but it held music for my ears. When Parsons had informed me I was to command a small cutter for a mission heretofore to be revealed, I cajoled him for every detail—none of which was forthcoming, of course. All I could do was read up on the statistics of all the scout crafts currently in use in the Imperial Space Navy. That amounted to some sixty designs. It had seemed like a high data mountain to scale, until I realized I knew at least that many standard personal spacecraft used by my peers among the nobility. Under the Imperium’s policy, we nobles were all given generous allowances. I had bought myself an asteroid-bouncer or two with a few months’ proceeds, and modified them as far as my pocketbook would allow for efficiency as well as beauty.
What do You think about The View From The Imperium?
