Two hours before the vessel plunged into minus point, building up for a hundred and fifty parsec jump through hyperspace, Capt. Jock Warren was so high on narcol he couldn't read his own manifest. Not unusual on this milk run. After two hours inside of minus point, his sober gray cells were functioning like blaster tubes—but by then, it was too late. The skags had taken over control of the ship. — Charlie Guhn's Log. The Star Rover, a rusty freighter that shuttled between Rigel and the home syst