"Here we go again," said the Wabbit. Then as an afterthought. "How are you feeling, Susan?" "Bristol fashion Sir!" said Susan the Biplane eagerly. The Wabbit let some time elapse. "Your first mission, Cadet?" he murmured. "Raring to go, Sir," said
Susan. The Wabbit waited a long time and then barked suddenly "List specifications,
Cadet!" "Bio-atmosphere,
gravity field, shield and stealth cloak." "What about quantum slipstream drive?" asked
the Wabbit. "Yes Sir, sorry Sir," said Susan. The Wabbit relaxed in his seat and dangled
a paw out of the cockpit. "How fast is it?" "It's 9.999945, Sir." The Wabbit pretended to consider
coordinates. Then he said in a low voice. "Any reprimands
on your record, Cadet?" "One, Sir!" replied Susan. The Wabbit leaned back. "I landed on a motorbike race, Sir." The Wabbit hid a smile. "What happened
Cadet?" "I won Sir," said Susan. There was a long pause. "I’ve considered the
matter," said the Wabbit. "Yes Sir," said Susan mournfully. "You’re promoted to
Captain. Now remind me, what will
that slipstream drive do? "It’s still 9.999945
Sir," "Then go for 10," said the Wabbit, “we're hunting asteroids!" "Knock knock," said Susan confidently. "Who’s
there?" smiled the Wabbit. "Nasty," said Susan." "Nasty who?" sighed the Rabbit. "Nastyroid!" yelled Susan. There was a lurch and the Wabbit’s ears flattened as the little biplane dived into a sub space tunnel.