Cursing, I said, without any effort to hide my irritation, “Yes? What is it?”

     The doors split apart to reveal my second-in-command, Winston.

     “Captain, I—” he began, then saw what was on the holo. Coming to a dead stop, he said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir.”

     I nodded for him to go on with a gracious smile, but made a mental note. If he couldn’t remember when Captain Courageous was on, he wasn’t the kind of first officer I wanted on my ship.

     “First things first,” he said. “Your request to have the DeVille rechristened has been denied.”

     “What!” I said, screaming. “What’s wrong with the Ilovelord—that’s a fine ship’s name!”

     Winston shrugged. “Second, we’ve been ordered to the Planet Meekton.”

     He handed me a report, but instead of reading it, I said, “Oh?”

     “They’ve scored a 9.5 on the gee-a-vee scale.”

     In my entire career, I’d never heard such a high Grumbles-Against-Earth rating.

     “What’s their grumble?” I said, glancing at the report.

     “Something about getting what’s theirs. Supposedly, the Board of Terrestrial Defense and Offense is keeping them from their so-called inheritance.”

     “We’re to take them out?”

     “Not according to orders,” Winston said. “We’re just supposed to spook them a little.”

     I put the report down and surveyed my first officer. “You’ve set a course already, haven’t you?”

     Winston nodded.

     I turned around and looked out the window at my side. There was a large, mostly purplish planet spinning in space.

     “That’s Meekton, isn’t it?”

     My second-in-command nodded.

     “Their Prime Minister or President or whoever’s in charge is waiting to talk to me, aren’t they?”

     Nod. “Prime Minister.”

     Quietly, I ordered the holo to turn off and got up from my chair.

     “Okay,” I said. “Fill me in.”

     Winston filled me in. The problem started when religion was brought to their planet a little over a year ago. Instead of trying to better themselves, the Meeks were trying to benefit materially from the work of our missionaries. They thought our ship was there to negotiate a settlement—hah! I’d show them a settlement.

     And what an ugly lot! They’ve got three eyes and no nose and a mouth too high on their egg-shaped head. Not to mention sickly-green skin. One of them glared at me from the four-meter high screen in the main room.

     “About time,” he said.

     “About time?” I said. “Are you so anxious to have your planet destroyed?”

     The frown dropped from his face, then reappeared after the moment of shock passed. “What did you say?”

     “Well, let’s get on with it,” I said, turning to my weapon’s officer. “Destroy their excuse for a planet.”

     My weapon’s officer nodded and started keying in the command to launch torpedoes. I hoped Winston had briefed him and he knew that this was just a put-on. If not, though, it’d be his neck and Winston’s, not mine. And this current predicament would have pretty much solved itself.

     “Wait! Stop!”

     I turned to face the screen.

     “Yes?” I said, impatiently.

     “You can’t do this,” he said. “We’re supposed to negotiate a deal.”

     “Okay,” I said. “Stop bothering the Board and your planet doesn’t vaporize to dust just yet. Deal?”

     They didn’t have spaceships or satellites or any other way to defend themselves. My weapon’s officer’s finger was poised over the launch button. He had a hungry look on his face.

     With a resigned sigh, the Prime Minister nodded.

     I motioned to my communications officer to take the Minister’s ugly mug off the screen.

     Later that day, the report came in from the Board. Evaluations at Meekton showed a drop in gee-oh-vee. It was hovering just above nine point oh, and dropping. Not bad for a day’s work—at the very least, it gave the Board time to decide their next move.

     Even though I had missed a good chunk of this week’s Captain Courageous, I was happy. The Meek might indeed inherit the Earth—but not on my watch, they won’t.