Despite his daydreams and careful preparations, he found that now that it was imminent, he approached the meeting with increasing dread. There were a thousand ways this “golden opportunity” could sour, resulting in an abrupt end to his career… and perhaps his life with it.
He had half-expected, half-hoped, that when he arrived at the rendezvous, he would be greeted by empty space. But the ship had been there, dwarfing his own craft with its immense size. The reporter remembered being slightly disappointed at the outward appearance of the vessel. He had expected a sleek jet-black monster adorned with Tambu’s well-known crest… the silver death’s head surmounted on a nebula. Instead, the ship was little different from the hundreds of freighters which traversed the star lanes, shuttling their cargos from planet to planet. The only clues to this ship’s potential savagery were the numerous gun turrets prominent on its outer hull. It seemed ready for combat, its sails taken in as if in preparation for flight or fight… though the idea of his tiny ship attacking this dreadnought was ludicrous.
Now, here he was aboard Tambu’s own flagship, about to meet face to face with the most feared individual in the settled universe. He had only a moment to reflect upon these thoughts before a soft chime sounded and the inner door opened to receive him.
The first thing that struck him about the quarters was the psychological warmth of the room. He instinctively wanted to examine the quarters more closely, and just as instinctively suppressed the desire. Instead, he contented himself with a brief look at the cabin and its contents.