"Listen, Wally," said Guybrush. "You don't want to get tangled up with Elaine. She's trouble, plain and simple."
Wally barely heard him. "I tried talking to her this morning, but it didn't go well. She seems upset about something... and I don't know what I can do to help! Can you help out, Guybrush?"
The use of his full name startled Guybrush out of his flippant stance somewhat. "Well," he said, "she's upset because she's trapped on this ship which she has no authority over. You could try letting her order you around like a common peon, that might make her feel at home again. Or, she was saying something today about wanting some paper. You could try finding some of that for her-"
Guybrush suddenly fell silent, because Elaine had re-entered the cockpit. She looked steadily at them, but there was no indication she'd heard any of the conversation.
"How's the planetary scan going?" said Elaine.
"The-" Guybrush was confused momentarily, then remembered the probability estimate Wally was doing. "Oh, yeah. That should be nearly ready now..."
Wally was hitting buttons on the console. "Just bringing it up now, your highness," he said. Guybrush shot him a sharp glance. "Here it comes..." Wally paused, reading off the information. "Okay. There's several good candidates. The nearest is star XY3331, 3.1 light years distant. There's a 98.6% probability of a solar system with at least six planets."
"Sounds good enough to me," said Elaine. "Let's go."
Guybrush looked at her. His voice rose a little. "Hang on, wait just-"
"Well, we are going there, right?" Wally chimed in. "Where else is there?"
"Yes, yes, okay," said Guybrush. He sighed, a sigh that somehow conceded the battle. "I'll set the course, and we'll get there in about sixteen hours."
"Right," said Elaine. "There was one other thing. We're having a meeting tonight, in the rec room or whatever you call that dump. 7pm sharp. See you there." She turned and left.
Guybrush watched her go, pure, uncomplicated hate in his eyes. "She's starting already," he whispered. He frowned, then turned back to the controls and began setting the course, feeling uncomfortably like a servant. When this task was gone, he looked back at Wally.
"Your highness?" said Guybrush scornfully.
Wally, to his credit, looked sheepish. "You said I should be all deferent. Well, I wanted to give her a title, but I couldn't think of any. Madam sounds really archaic, and I don't like Miss."
"And I really don't like 'Your Highness'," said Guybrush. "She's not royalty."
"Have you got any ideas, then?" said Wally.
Guybrush smiled, humourlessly. "How about Governor? You can call her Governor Elaine Marley."
Wally brightened. "Yeah. That's good! Governor!"
Guybrush turned, and looked Wally in the eye.
"And you can call me Captain," he said.