<div dir="auto">Ragazzi,<div dir="auto">Avrei scritto prima ma, come al solito la vita mi ha preso a calci (casino sul lavoro, auto tamponata, crisi coniugale prematrimoniale, non mia, da risolvere... Il tutto in una notte).</div><div dir="auto">Nel mio brano avrei voluto creare un parallelismo tra due gruppi di lavoro nell'equipaggio: uno che si occupa di estrarre informazioni dalla banda di rintronati con una fissazione morbosa per felini e grecia antica, l'altro settato sul capire dove fossero finiti gli abbordatori della Perseo. Mi sono concentrato più sul secondo e, mi rendo conto di non aver molto sottolineato questo parallelismo.</div><div dir="auto">Scusatemi, ragazzi.</div><div dir="auto">Federico.</div></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_attr">Il lun 2 set 2019, 08:10 Silvia Bianchini <<a href="mailto:ltcomm.sibi@gmail.com">ltcomm.sibi@gmail.com</a>> ha scritto:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex"><div dir="ltr"><div>Ciao</div><div>ho letto veloce ma devo rileggerlo meglio</div><div>commento appena riesco</div><div><br></div><div>baci</div><div><br></div><div>SiBi<br></div></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_attr">Il giorno lun 2 set 2019 alle ore 07:37 Vanessa Marchetti <<a href="mailto:hazyel91@gmail.com" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer">hazyel91@gmail.com</a>> ha scritto:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0px 0px 0px 0.8ex;border-left:1px solid rgb(204,204,204);padding-left:1ex"><div dir="ltr">E' settembre. Ci siete, avete letto il brano di Federico o facciamo l'appello?  <br clear="all"><div><div dir="ltr" class="m_2072881261220640739gmail-m_730924243306300273gmail_signature"><div dir="ltr"><div><div dir="ltr"><p class="MsoNormal"><br></p><p class="MsoNormal">========================================<br></p><p class="MsoNormal">Capitano Hazyel<br>Ufficiale in Comando</p><p class="MsoNormal">Base Stellare K-4 "Empireo"<br>USS Raziel NCC-79016<br>========================================<br></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br></p></div></div></div></div></div></div><div id="m_2072881261220640739gmail-m_730924243306300273DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2"><br> <table style="border-top:1px solid rgb(211,212,222)">
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<a href="#m_2072881261220640739_m_730924243306300273_DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2" width="1" height="1" rel="noreferrer"></a></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_attr">Il giorno gio 29 ago 2019 alle ore 22:32 Stefano Zaniboni <<a href="mailto:stezani@me.com" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer">stezani@me.com</a>> ha scritto:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0px 0px 0px 0.8ex;border-left:1px solid rgb(204,204,204);padding-left:1ex"><div dir="auto">Ciao Federico, ho letto il brano velocemente mentre ero in treno e mi è piaciuto molto ma nel weekend lo rileggerò con calma per capire bene tutti i passaggi. Comunque complimenti:)<div><br></div><div>Stefano<br><br><div id="m_2072881261220640739gmail-m_730924243306300273gmail-m_1100059219369420938AppleMailSignature" dir="ltr">Inviato da iPad</div><div dir="ltr"><br>Il giorno 28 ago 2019, alle ore 11:54, Federico Rapuzzi <<a href="mailto:federico.rapuzzi@gmail.com" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer">federico.rapuzzi@gmail.com</a>> ha scritto:<br><br></div><blockquote type="cite"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="auto">Ciao,<div dir="auto">colpevole, scioccamente colpevole. Eccolo.</div><div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">USS RAZIEL</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Ponte 1 - Plancia </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">21/05/2399, ore 17:57</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel stava analizzando la situazione con il suo ufficiale tattico: davanti a loro, una mappa del settore 782 e limitrofi su cui era evidenziata la rotta della Perseo ed il punto in cui era stata ritrovata dalla Raziel. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Ambedue stavano cercando di intuire quale potesse essere la rotta di fuga degli Orioniani, responsabili, fra le altre cose, del sequestro del Guardiamarina Mouser.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“A chi può interessare un topo da biblioteca? Il problema per i nostri nuovi amici sarà sicuramente rivendere quel meraviglioso database vivente. Sempre che siano abbastanza furbi da accorgersene in tempo e non decidano di ucciderlo o venderlo senza verificarne le potenzialità.. a primo acchito direi Ordine Ossidiano, Ferengi, Tal Shiar, ma la lista potrebbe essere decisamente più lunga. Cosa ne pensa, Signor Terr?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Ritengo che, chiunque sia il loro potenziale compratore, l’estrazione di Mouser non sia cosa semplice. Assumendo sempre che il compratore non sia uno dei nostri. Non sarebbe la prima volta in cui mi imbatto in una cospirazione ordita da cittadini federali”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr, fece una pausa, attendendo un cenno di assenso da parte del Capitano prima di continuare:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Mi concentrerei sulla rotta di fuga ed escluderei tutte le rotte dirette per Cardassia e Ferenginar.. i confini sono disseminati di stazioni di ascolto: non passerebbe uno spillo occultato da quelle parti, soprattutto nel settore Bajoriano. Per non parlare poi dello spazio federale stesso: pieno di navi civili, dispostissime a segnalare una nave anomala al primo Capitano della Flotta Stellare nel settore” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Pertanto resta il Quadrante Beta”  </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Infatti. Escluderei, però, anche una rotta diretta per la Zona Neutrale Romulana: stazioni di ascolto e pattuglie ogni mezzo parsec, emittori tachionici. Mancano solo dei campi minati.. rimangono soltanto il confine Klingon o i sistemi non allineati al confine esterno della Galassia, visto che escluderei anche gli Tzenkheti. Non sono molto attivi, ultimamente”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel ingrandì sul punto in cui avevano localizzato il relitto squarciato del cargo.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Le boe Echo possono aver registrato qualcosa?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Purtroppo no, Signore. Sono i vecchi ripetitori per le comunicazioni dell’Enterprise NX-01, non sono stati demoliti per via del loro interesse storico, ma la loro manutenzione è puramente conservativa. A parte un beacon che indica alle navi la loro presenza ed il conseguente pericolo per la navigazione, non emettono e non ricevono nulla da secoli”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel notò gli occhi stanchi del mezzo Trill, il suo turno era finito da tempo.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Vada a riposare, Navras. La sua guardia è terminata da almeno mezz’ora. Ci torneremo sopra con mente fresca”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">USS RAZIEL</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Ponte 1 - Alloggi Ufficiali</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">21/05/2399, ore 18:25</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr era sdraiato sulla cuccetta bassa del castello di un alloggio doppio della piccola nave federale.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Come ogni ufficiale anziano, aveva diritto a un minuscolo alloggio personale ma, a causa di una manutenzione programmata a un condotto EPS posto proprio dietro a una paratia dei suoi “quartieri”, aveva preferito lasciare campo libero agli ingegneri di bordo e fare “branda calda” col secondo ufficiale tattico.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Sul suo petto ondeggiava, sincrono al suo respiro, un PADD contenente una sinossi dei fatti e delle informazioni in loro possesso: qualcosa non quadrava ed il Trill ne era conscio, ma, al momento, la priorità era recuperare il Guardiamarina Mouser, un uomo dalla carriera a vicolo cieco, relegato in un patetico archivio della Flotta, in grado di accedere a informazioni seppellite dal tempo e dalla SECLAR.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Anche questo quadrava ben poco: gli ricordava un gruppo di ufficiali scomodi della Flotta, rilegati a un incarico da addestratori su Bajor, molti anni prima.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Navras posò il suo sguardo assonnato su quel ritratto di una famiglia allargata dagli occhi stanchi, in cui spesso cercava consiglio.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">*</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Catturato dagli Orioniani per essere torchiato d’ogni informazione… pirati, contrabbandieri e schiavisti. Dove vi nascondete, schifosi pirati, schiavisti e…</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">*</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Gli occhi dell’Ufficiale Tattico schizzarono alla foto.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Contrabbandieri!”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Nella cuccetta sopra di lui, Malin Stromm si ridestò di colpo sbattendo fragorosamente la testa contro il soffitto della cabina.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">La donna represse un’imprecazione e, massaggiandosi la fronte, si sporse verso la cuccetta sottostante con aria truce</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Capo! Ma ti sembra il modo di…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr non fece in tempo a sentirla, era già balzato in piedi diretto alla plancia.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Cosa fanno i contrabbandieri, Stromm?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Lasciano dormire i loro assistenti?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Sgusciano, Stromm. Sgusciano tra le maglie della rete”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">La finlandese ributtò la testa sul cuscino sbuffando</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Secondo me lasciano anche dormire i sottoposti”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Disse, rivolgendosi all’alloggio vuoto.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">USS Raziel</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Ponte 1 - Plancia</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">21/05/2399, ore 18:32</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel fissava perplesso il suo nuovo Tattico, riapparso in servizio dopo poco più di mezz’ora da quando era stato congedato per andarsi a fare qualche ora di sonno.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Apprezzo lo zelo come ogni altro Ufficiale Comandante, Signor Terr. Però mi permetto di ricordarle che senza un adeguato riposo, il rendimento”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Stanno puntando sulla Macchia, Capitano. Potrei avere una traccia su come ritrovare Mouser..”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“In tal caso è libero di fondere i suoi neuroni come meglio crede”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr era in preda a uno stream of consciousness: la sua mente lavorava alla teoria che andava sviluppandosi, mentre le mani lavoravano sulla consolle di navigazione, sotto gli occhi apparentemente perplessi di Atena Prince.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“La Perseo è stata abbordata nel Settore 782, mentre qui abbiamo il confine del braccio esterno della Macchia di Rovi, K4 è qua, più all’interno, mentre noi siamo qui”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Il Tattico schizzò alla sua consolle, spostando il suo sostituto, altrettanto perplesso, iniziando a digitarvi input.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Sullo schermo principale apparvero, attorno ai punti delle boe sensore disseminate nell’area e della stazione, delle sfere che coprivano una vasta area della fascia esterna della Macchia di Rovi.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Se combiniamo i raggi dei loro sensori con i nostri e mettiamo in conto la rete di boe disseminate in tutto il territorio federale che, soprattutto, qui, attorno alla Macchia ed alle sue interferenze ed alla concomitanza della Rotta Imperiale Romulana 36, sono molto fitte e in ottimo stato di manutenzione, possiamo renderci conto che è possibile che gli Orioniani non stiano puntando direttamente al di fuori della Macchia ma, con un certo grado di abilità, stanno probabilmente compiendo un lungo arco ai margini della stessa, fra tante interferenze e pochi sensori, per uscire poi verso il confine più vicino allo spazio libero. E’ come il GIUK gap!”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Prego?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Terra, prima della Terza Guerra Mondiale. I sommergibili di quella che sarebbe diventata la coalizione orientale erano costretti, per raggiungere l’oceano atlantico dalle loro basi, a passare in una strettoia tra Groenlandia e Irlanda, il GIUK Gap. Con gli anni, grazie a mappature molto precise dei fondali dello Stretto di Danimarca, queste unità avevano trovato dei corridoi estremamente stretti che permettevano loro, sfruttando la barriera sonora generata dall’orografia del fondale, di eludere le reti sonar posate in quell’area.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Uhm.. e quindi?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Il progetto Empireo ha disseminato di sensori i confini della Macchia di Rovi, giusto? Scommetto che la copertura non è totale a causa delle sacche di gas”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“In effetti è così: è un problema a cui stiamo cercando di porre rimedio da tempo. Suppone che esista una rotta che permette di uscire dalla Macchia evitando i nostri sensori?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Ne sono convinto: scommetto che esista una strada, o più di una: l’arte del contrabbando è sgusciare là dove nessuno lo riterrebbe possibile.. esistono, inoltre, molti modi per ingannare o sabotare una boa sensore: ho accumulato una certa esperienza in materia durante il mio primo imbarco”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr armeggiò con la consolle tattica.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Escluderei una ricerca di questa rotta, per il momento, concentrandomi sulla destinazione finale. Il raggio dei nostri sensori e le interferenze delle sacche ci impediscono di battere tutti i possibili vettori di uscita ma, con l’aiuto del Signor Wood, che sicuramente avrà una mappatura delle sacche di gas pericolosi per la navigazione a impulso, e del Tenente Prince, credo di poterne escludere un certo quantitativo”.</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><br></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Ottima teoria, Comandante. Non mi sono chiare però tre cose.. innanzitutto la presunta destinazione finale degli Orioniani: non ci sono molti luoghi adatti al traffico di schiavi nel settore; secondo: quanto potremmo restringere l’area di ricerca in modo da poter intercettare questi Orioniani e, infine, cosa sarebbe la Rotta Imperiale Romulana 36?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“E’ uno dei vettori di invasione nei piani d’attacco Romulani in caso di guerra con la Federazione: per questo è così ben scannerizzata dai nostri sensori; per l’area di ricerca ho bisogno di conferire con i signori Wood e Prince”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Alexander, apparentemente impegnato in altro, alzò la testa dalla sua consolle, attirando l’attenzione dei due con un cenno. Sullo schermo principale apparve, sovrapposta alla mappa richiamata da Terr, un’ulteriore serie di zone colorate che, in alcuni casi, andavano a sovrapporsi con i raggi dei sensori succitati.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Ecco fatto, Comandante Terr. La sua mappatura è pronta. Non navigherei con nessuna nave nella galassia attraverso o addirittura vicino alle sacche marcate in rosso. Quelle in giallo sono attraversabili a bassissima velocità mentre le verdi possono generare emissioni fastidiose, in grado di disturbare i sistemi di una nave, ma non di pregiudicarne la navigazione”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Navras guardò l’ufficiale scientifico, ringraziandolo con un cenno.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Prince si voltò verso poppa, fissando i tre dalla sua consolle.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Mi farebbe piacere analizzare con attenzione quella mappa”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr, dopo aver atteso un cenno di assenso dal suo Capitano, spedì alla consolle di navigazione la mappa aggiornata.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Prince, con quel suo curioso atteggiamento, quasi stesse conversando con un amico immaginario, iniziò a studiarne la rappresentazione grafica, tempestando la consolle di navigazione, digitando quasi ad una velocità innaturale, scambiando opinioni con la Mendel riguardo al possibile effetto di alcune sacche di gas con i sistemi di navigazione.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel guardò la sua plancia, il suo equipaggio: la divisione tra vecchi e nuovi stava iniziando a scomparire, l’ingranaggio si stava nuovamente oliando.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Un leggero senso di compiacimento lo pervase.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Vedendo Moses entrare in plancia per avvicendarlo, si rivolse ai suoi: </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Molto bene, Signori: avete un’ora per fornirmi il minor numero di rotte di uscita possibili. Signor Terr, aggiorni il Primo Ufficiale. Signor Moses, a lei la nave”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Frank, come se fosse rimasto nascosto fino a quel momento, scoccò un’occhiata truce a Terr</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“E così ci sarebbe un buco nella nostra rete di sicurezza?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Sembrerebbe, Signore”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Mmpf. Trovi un tappo adeguato, se vuole vedere la sua prossima licenza”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">USS RAZIEL</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Ponte 1 - Alloggio del Capitano</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">21/05/2399, ore 19:30</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Il campanello dell’alloggio non trovò il Risiano sorpreso.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Avanti”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr fece il suo ingresso con un’andatura dinoccolata, quasi guardinga.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Mi dica, Comandante: abbiamo una rotta d’uscita per i nostri Orioniani”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Capitano, il problema è questo, Signore. Ne abbiamo sei. Calcolando la nostra velocità di intercettazione e la distanza tra le varie rotte di uscita, ci è impossibile coprirle tutte e chiudere la rete in tempo, anche dispiegando le nostre navette”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Ma…”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“In effetti, Signore, si: ci sarebbe un ma. La destinazione logica pare essere uno dei sistemi neutrali sul confine Klingon. Da lì, confondere le acque e sparire per sempre è fin troppo facile.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Ho un contatto della massima fiducia nell’Impero Klingon che potrebbe esserci di aiuto, fornendoci informazioni. Nonostante faccia parte della Casta Guerriera dell’Impero, diciamo che lui è.. ecco.. estremamente attento agli aspetti economici del suo Casato. In pratica, il più grande arrangiatore di affari e trafficante di informazioni nel quadrante Beta, Ferengi esclusi, ovviamente. Se c’è qualcuno che può offrirci un suggerimento, è l’uomo giusto”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Non mi sta disegnando un quadro molto rassicurante, Navras”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Beh, Signore. Forse dovrei anche aggiungere che sua nipote è un rispettato Ufficiale della Flotta Stellare, che lui ha collaborato con i Servizi della Flotta attraverso mio padre in diverse occasioni, soprattutto durante la guerra contro il Dominio, quindi uso alle nostre procedure di sicurezza e che, ecco.. sarebbe il mio secondo padrino. Mi sono già rivolto a lui in passato: poche domande, ottimi consigli”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Uno di famiglia, per farla breve”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Assolutamente, Signore”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Quando è stato il momento di inserirla in questo Progetto, Terr, il Comandante Moses ed io abbiamo scavato su di lei.. anche tramite canali non ufficiali”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Comprensibilmente, Signore”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“... la sua famiglia, Comandante. Assai complessa, soprattutto per quanto concerne suo padre e la sua carriera nella Flotta..”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Decisamente complessa, Signore. Non ne parlo volentieri”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Comprensibilmente, Tenente, magari un giorno cambierà idea.. in ogni caso, voglio fidarmi di lei: contatti il Generale Klaa e mi faccia sapere cosa ha saputo dal suo stimato zio. Lo chiama così, vero?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr restò leggermente piccato dalle informazioni in mano di Hazyel: non era abituato ad essere messo così a nudo. D’altro canto, questa era una delle implicazioni, un prezzo da pagare che il mezzo Vulcaniano giudicò congruo per far parte di quel gruppo.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Esattamente, Signore. Posso usare il suo terminale? Serve un certo grado di privacy per gestire certe comunicazioni..”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“La lascio, Tenente”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“La pregherei di trattenersi, Capitano. Trovo corretto che assista alla conversazione”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel capì l’importanza del gesto del suo ufficiale, non era tipico per chi era uso a incarichi indipendenti, spesso senza la possibilità di fidarsi nemmeno dei suoi.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"In tal caso, sarei onorato di fare la conoscenza del suo Stimato Zio. Chissà come è cambiato dai tempi di quella foto"</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr scoccò un’occhiataccia degna di Moses al suo ufficiale comandante.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Mio padre aveva il costume di installare trappole tra i suoi effetti personali: una volta da bambino mi hanno dovuto teletrasportare d’urgenza in un centro medico perché avevo provato ad aprire una sua valigetta. Negli anni l’ho sempre ritenuto eccessivamente paranoico. Adesso, mi trovo a riconsiderare questo uso”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Signor Terr, la inviterei a non disseminare di granate a compressione Romulana la mia nave e la mia stazione. Chiami l’onesto Fedh’Klaa e vediamo dove ci porta”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Terr sorrise, mentre inseriva il codice di crittatura della chiamata sub spaziale: un codice che il Capitano non riconobbe, ma giudicò piuttosto complesso per una semplice chiamata.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Le preferite da mio padre. Coincidenza?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Hazyel ricambiò il sorriso.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;background-color:rgb(255,255,255);margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Assolutamente, Comandante Terr. Una pura coincidenza”</span></p></div></div>
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