Killashandra - Coda and Finale

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“SO the galaxy stands in dire need of more blue orthorhombics,” said Killashandra with savage glee. “Sorry, Lanzecki. The gyros on my flitter have had it. It’d be suicide to go before they’ve been changed and tuned, and you know how long that takes. Right now, I’ve enough credit to take me off this barfing world for a good long time. And I’m going!”

She’d turned to go but Lanzecki’s voice, never before so uncompromisingly authoritarian, and as emotionless as if his precious computer had developed a voice, stopped her midstride.

“No, Killashandra Ree, you are not going.”

Slowly, because she didn’t believe her ears, Killashandra turned back to Lanzecki.

“I’m not going?” Her voice was too quiet. Someone else, knowing Killashandra as long as Lanzecki had, would have demurred or made some attempt to placate her imminent anger.

Instead, Lanzecki’s fingers flew across the computer console, though his eyes never left hers. Involuntarily Killashandra looked up at the computer printout panel behind the Guildmaster.

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