The other was squinting at the main screen, which now held the small crescent shape of a planet dead center. “Probably depends on whether the Tampy delegation’s still topside or whether they’ve gone down and sent their ship home,”

he said. “Can you get any more magnification on that thing?”

Roman turned back to his console, feeling an odd stirring of anticipation as he keyed the screen for full mags. If the Tampy ship was indeed still standing by…

The small crescent jumped in size to fill the entire screen; stabilized and enlarged again to become a flat strip of mottled planetary edge. The camera started a slow scan…

And there it was, silhouetted against the lighted section: a small, dark rectangular/cylindrical shape, trailing behind a similar but much larger cylinder.

The Tampy ship… and its accompanying space horse.

The screen’s scale came on, locked and stabilized, and someone on the bridge gave a low whistle. “Nine hundred twenty meters long,” Pankau read, a touch of awe seeping through the professional coolness in his voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a space horse quite that big before.”

“The average is supposed to be eight hundred,” Roman agreed. Even preoccupied, he could hear the underlevel of schoolboy excitement in his voice.

Pankau obviously heard it too, and Roman could feel the ambassador’s gaze shift from the screen to him. “Your first space horse, Captain?”

It was, fortunately, difficult to blush in zero-gee. “It’s the first one I’ll have a chance to see close up, yes,” Roman conceded. “I have seen them from a distance, of course.”

Pankau grunted. “It would be rather difficult for the commander of a bordership to totally avoid them.” His eyes shifted back to the main screen and his lips puckered.