A Pale Light in the Black

by K. B. Wagers

  Jenks muttered a curse. Max was sitting carefully still at her side, waiting. “Do you want me to drop it, Lieutenant?”

  “No.” Max blinked at her in surprise. “I was kind of hoping you’d have an idea of what we should do next because honestly I’m at a loss. Technically we can’t do anything with a closed case unless we find a reason to reopen it.”

  “Oh . . . well, give me some time to look through the reports and I’ll get back to you?”

  Max nodded, then smiled as she got to her feet. “I’m going to go to bed. Let me know if you’ve thought of anything when I get up.”

  Jenks watched her head for the stairs. Nika would have pushed, wanted to know what she was thinking. But Carmichael just accepted that Jenks knew what she was doing for no reason beyond the fact that she trusted Jenks to do her job.

  She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

  She spun in her chair, checked the time back on Earth, and then tapped the com codes into the console behind her. A few moments later, the screen flashed as Chief Petty Officer Luis Armstrong answered.

  “Morning. I wasn’t expecting a call from you.” Honorable Intent’s lone enlisted man wasn’t just built like a brawler. The CPO was a brawler, slower than Jenks but dangerous enough that she knew not to let him get his hands on her—at least while they were in the cage.

  Outside of it was another matter entirely.

  Jenks eyed his bare torso and grinned. “Did I interrupt you?”

  Luis’s grin matched hers as he finished drying his blond hair. “Just getting ready for work. The boys left for school half an hour ago.”

  “How are they?”

  Jenks saw his startled surprise before Luis’s easy smile slipped back into place.

  “They’re good. Riz is already harassing me about the preliminaries. Elliot got busted sneaking out of class to read in the library. The usual.”

  The kids were supposed to be off-limits. When they’d met five years ago he’d been reeling from the death of his wife in a shuttle accident. A single father left with almost-two-year-old twin boys struggling to juggle the pieces of his broken life while he competed in the Games.

  They’d fought in the cage. She’d won. And then . . . after. She still had to mentally fan herself whenever she remembered the overwhelming encounter in the gym showers.

  They’d agreed to keep things casual, which was how she preferred her relationships. They weren’t dating. They were just two people who had sex occasionally and that was it.

  Except . . . it wasn’t.

  She’d been breaking the rules more often in the last year. Calling him for no reason other than to see his face and hear how his day was. Asking about his kids. Caring about his life. It’d started without her even realizing it when she’d seen a poster of herself in the background of his home during one of their chats and teased him about it. Only to discover it belonged to one of his sons.

  “Good.”

  “Sooooo.” Luis dragged the word out. “Not that I mind seeing your face, but did you need something?”

  Sometimes Jenks felt like they were doing that carefully choreographed dance that spelled the end of a relationship, where she stepped on the other person’s feet just enough to convince them it was time to call it quits. Other times the thought of not having Luis in her life was a painful weight in her chest.

  She cleared her throat, grateful that Rosa and Sapphi were on the bridge. “Yeah. Can you help me out with something?”

  “You know I can. What?”

  “Remember that system jumper we snagged a few weeks back? The criminals ended up dead in a very convenient accident on their way to Earth.”

  Luis’s eyebrows took a trip upward. “You mean that accident with the fire suppression system? I didn’t realize those were your guys.”

  “Of course you knew about it. We just got word. Fucking Navy.” Jenks spread her hands. “I’ve got the accident report and the autopsies from the lieutenant, but I was hoping you might have more on it.”

  “It wasn’t our jurisdiction.” Luis shook his head. “Sorry, I would have told you sooner if I’d realized. I can do some digging for you, though—if I know what to look for.”

  “That’s the problem,” she replied. “I don’t know. It was just weird. The one guy who tried to bribe us was freaked, like he knew he was dead. But the ship was clean. If they were smuggling something in it they hid it really well.” Jenks reached down and patted Doge when he shifted. “This whole thing is making Doge anxious.”

  “Your cortisol levels have increased eleven percent in the last half hour,” Doge replied over their link, and Jenks was glad that Luis couldn’t hear the ROVER. Though judging from his amused look he could guess well enough what the AI had just said.

  “I’d imagine so,” he said instead. “Send me what you’ve got. I’ve gotta go, Dai, but I’ll poke around some. See what I come up with.”

  “Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”

  Luis flashed a wicked grin and then disconnected. Jenks blew out a breath and folded over, pressing her cheek to the top of her dog’s head. “Oh, Doge, what the hell am I doing there?”

  “I don’t have a good answer for you.”

  “Yeah, me either.”

  “Good work out there, Commander.” Hoboins leaned back in his chair with a smile in Rosa’s direction before he continued. “I’ve got you scheduled for two more two-week hauls around the belt before you head for Earth for the prelims. How goes the training?”

  “Good.” Rosa hoped the smile she offered didn’t look forced. It wasn’t entirely a lie, just didn’t go into detail on the dismal results that Sapphi’s program was coming up with for Zuma as the news of the other NeoG teams trickled in. Honorable Intent was pulling some strong numbers in the early projections and rumors. And there were at least three other teams who looked as though they could take the top spot—including Dread Treasure.

  Rosa suppressed a sigh.

  The whole point of the Boarding Games had been to test each branch’s infiltration teams against the others, and as such the competition was supposed to be limited to already formed teams—like hers.

  And yet, that hadn’t stopped things from twisting and evolving over the years. Now teams were formed with the express purpose of winning the Games, or at least making a political showing. Like the team from NeoG headquarters.

  “We’re good, Admiral,” Max said, slipping easily into the silence with a reassuring smile. “There’s still plenty of time for training, but Jenks thinks it’s distinctly possible for us to take the top three spots in prelims for the hand-to-hand—depending on how the brackets fall.” She laughed. “I get the feeling she’s pulling for a championship match versus me.”

  “You’ll have to fight Jenks for real then, Lieutenant. The judges frown on people throwing matches, team or no team. Not to mention the reaction you’ll get from the crowd.”

  “Oh, I know, Admiral. I’ll give it my best. If it comes down to me and Jenks, I’m still going to lose.” Max pointed at the bruise that decorated her right cheek. “She’s so far beyond me.”

  “How is it you can evade everyone else’s strikes but she keeps nailing you?” Rosa asked.

  “Most people are easy to predict.” Max shrugged. “Jenks, she’s almost impossible.”

  “That’s because even Jenks doesn’t know what she’s going to do until she’s done it,” Hoboins said.

  Rosa chuckled at the look of surprise on Max’s face at the vice admiral’s sarcasm and reached out to pat her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you get used to it. Is there anything else, Admiral? Because speaking of training, we should be getting to the gym.”

  “We’re good here.” Hoboins pointed a hand at the door in dismissal. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Rosa followed Max from the room, waving a cursory goodbye to Lou on their way through the outer office, but she didn’t say anything until they were alone in the corridor headed across the station toward the gym. “O
ut with it, Carmichael.”

  “Curious why you didn’t tell the admiral about Sapphi’s projections, Commander.”

  “Because it’ll just stress him out and I’ve got enough on my plate without pissing Lou off.”

  Max frowned. “Why would it piss Commander Seve off?”

  “Because Admiral Hoboins likes to mess with her carefully tended schedule when he’s stressed.” Rosa grabbed for the bar in the low-g tube, pulling herself out and angling her feet downward in one smooth motion. She watched as Max followed, and the lieutenant managed a similar maneuver with only a little bit of fumbling. “Anyway,” she continued as they headed for the base of the stalk, “there’s nothing he can do. It’s not false optimism on my part.”

  “I didn’t think it was. You’re not the kind of person who does that.”

  “Blows smoke?” Rosa asked. “True.” She stepped to the side as her boots hit the deck.

  “Commander.” Max folded her narrow hands together, long fingers rubbing against the skin on the back of her hand. “I know you’re worried about me. That the rest of the team is worried. I just want you to know I—”

  “I’m not worried about you, Carmichael.” Now was as good a time as any to open herself up to her new lieutenant. Rosa smiled as the look of surprise crossed Max’s face for the second time that morning. “You’ll do fine. Either work your way through the competition with that uncanny ability you have and get your ass kicked by Jenks, or at least make it far enough up in the bracket to get us some decent points.”

  “If you’re not worried about me, then what?”

  “Have you even looked at those projections?” Rosa asked. “Nika was the best there is at sword fighting. I am a poor substitute for his ability. We lost last year because of me.”

  Max had this stare she did, where it felt like she was looking right through you, and it was pointed in her direction now. Rosa clamped down on the urge to keep talking to fill the silence.

  “With respect, Commander, you sell yourself short,” Max finally said. “People always ask me how I can guess people’s movements or their choices. I don’t really have a good answer, beyond that when I stop thinking about it, it all seems very clear.” She lifted a shoulder with a tiny smile. “Maybe I’m reaching, but when I watch you fight with the sword it seems like you’re as much in a battle with the weapon in your hand as you are against your opponent.”

  “You sound like Ma,” Rosa said, not unkindly.

  “He may have given a gangly teenager similar advice when she was fighting with these.” Max waved her long arms in the air in front of her. “It helped. The sword isn’t your issue, Commander. What’s in your head is. NeoG didn’t lose last year because of you. I get why you’re taking that burden on, but you need to let it go into the black.”

  Rosa stared at her for a moment. She sounded like Nika, insisting to let her failures go instead of hugging them tight. And Rosa had to admit they both had a point. She had been carrying this one for long enough. “You’re pretty smart for a lieutenant.”

  “I’m going to pretend that was a compliment and say thank you.” Max sniffed and headed toward the gym.

  Rosa laughed and followed. It was good to see Max settling in, better still that she felt comfortable enough to give her commanding officer unasked-for advice. That wouldn’t have happened a few short weeks ago.

  To top it off, her suggestion had merit. Rosa was always too far in her head, with the exception of when she was out in space. Out there her brain was quiet—fully and completely quiet—and if that was her own private heretical shame, so be it.

  The longer she spent out here, the more she questioned everything she’d been brought up to believe. Angela would support her, would so gladly pack the girls up and move them anywhere so they could all be together again. Iso would fuss, but probably also look forward to the adventure. But Rosa’s mother and her family?

  They would not understand, and neither would her church, and the loss of all that was too terrifying for her to contemplate.

  She’d come so close to telling Admiral Hoboins to transfer her to Trappist when the discussion had first come up, but the words had stuck in her throat. And because of that she was stuck here in a dead-end spot with no promotions heading her way and the seemingly impossible challenge of winning these Games settled squarely on her shoulders.

  “Hey, Commander, you going to stand there and stare off into space all day or come fight me?” Tamago’s call broke through Rosa’s circling thoughts and she blinked, forcing a smile as she stepped into the gym.

  “I’m coming, keep your pants on.”

  Letters

  Commander Vagin—

  I wanted to thank you for the letter you left me and apologize for taking so long to do so. I feel like you won’t judge me for admitting it was because it took me several weeks to read it in the first place and then even longer to figure out what to say in this email. (To be perfectly honest I still haven’t figured that part out so bear with me.)

  I am equally feeling like “I’ve got this” and “This is so much harder than I thought it would be.” Training was hard, I mean, you know how training was, but—does this feeling like you’re missing something ever go away?

  Everyone is well. We had a mission to Saturn the other day. Helping out a research station who’d lost power. Jenks taught me how to rewire a coupling set on the fly. It was exciting.

  I think she’s warming up to me. At least . . . well, she’s still punching me in the face but either I’m getting used to it or she’s not hitting me as hard.

  Hope you’re well. How is Trappist? Thank you again for the letter, it has been helpful in ways I can’t quite explain.

  —Max

  Max—

  So good to hear from you, and please don’t feel like you need to be so formal. Yes, the feeling goes away. Sadly it’s often replaced by some other worry. *laughs* But you’ll do fine.

  Jenks told me about Saturn. She was impressed with how fast you picked up the rewiring, and she’s had nice things to say (mostly) about your fighting skills. Keep your hands up, will you? I’d hate for her to break your nose, and she will if you don’t start protecting your face.

  Trappist is a different world. It’s a bit strange being on the ground more than on a ship (or station) but I’m enjoying the work and learning more than I thought I would about how goods are transferred from Earth to our habitats. The people here are . . . interesting? Rougher, but more honest I think. It’s a tough place to make a living and they do it almost effortlessly.

  I doubt I’ll make it for the preliminaries, they don’t have a team out this far that’s competition ready, but maybe by this time next year I’ll whip mine into shape and come compete against you. So make sure you keep training.

  Thanks for the email. It’s . . . appreciated, more than you know.

  —Nika

  T-minus Eight Weeks until Prelim Boarding Games

  Max eyed Jenks uncertainly. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Well yeah, just don’t break anything. Rosa knows we need to train some even while we’re out here in the black.” She pointed to a deep scratch high up on the wall of the common room. “Where do you think that came from? And why did she put me on your rotation this go-around and Tamago on hers?”

  That made sense. “Okay.” Max put her hands back up, lifting them a little higher when Jenks raised an eyebrow. Sparring in the common room seemed like a bad idea, but of all the places on Zuma’s Ghost where they could get the slightest bit of a match in, it was better than the bridge.

  “So here’s the deal,” Jenks said, putting her own wrapped hands up and moving forward. “You’ve got these things—” She reached out and took hold of Max’s wrist, shaking her arm in the air. “And it gives you this incredible range. But they’re also a liability.”

  “My arms are a liability?”

  Jenks took another step forward until she was toe-to-toe with her lieutenant. “Definitely.”
/>   “How?”

  “Because you don’t know what to do if I get this close.” She grinned up at Max, who was clearly so uncomfortable with her hands still up and her elbows pressed against her chest. “Now, you can punch me in the head, but what’s it going to do with no power behind your swing?”

  “Not much.”

  Jenks winked. “Right. Head butts are an option, but I advise against them. They make your head hurt almost as much as your target. So what do you do?”

  Max looked up at the ceiling and then shook her head so quickly Jenks suppressed a sigh. One of these days she was going to get her lieutenant to have a little faith in her own brain. But that wasn’t the point of the lesson. She backed up.

  “What you do is don’t let me inside your guard.” She took a step forward. “Punch.”

  Max’s fist came straight out and Jenks had to sidestep it. She moved in again. “Come on, Lieutenant, don’t let me get close.”

  Max swung again, but this time she misjudged and drove her fist into the door of the pantry. Jenks grinned. “You have to be aware of what’s around you. The cage limits your movement, not like the mats in the gym. You’ll get pinned to the wall and demolished eventually. I can think of at least three people who’ll only let you get away with your ghost routine for the first round. So hit me, Lieutenant, with enough power to keep me from moving forward.”

  Jenks tossed an easy uppercut with her left, knowing that Max would ghost out of the way, but she moved in as she threw the punch, aiming a jab at Max’s midsection with her right as she did.

  Max’s answering punch wasn’t the surprising part—what was surprising was that Jenks hadn’t anticipated it actually happening. She couldn’t move fast enough and the pain shot through her face.

  “I am so sorry.” Max didn’t know what to do, so she just stood at the entrance of the galley area watching helplessly as Jenks reset her own nose—the nose Max had somehow just managed to break—over the sink and rinsed the blood off her face.