Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer

by Joyz W. Riter

“I don’t have a clear terminal right now, sir,” he answered, but Dana wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

  “Then clear it and do it, Ensign!” She watched and waited, finally swiveled the terminal around to do it herself. To her great relief, the roster that appeared on the screen matched the one she’d prepared and authorized through her yeoman, with no changes or additions.

  Mansfield had lied to intimidate and provoke her.

  Well, he’ll get his, she vowed. She needed an excuse to get off the mission team. He was going to be the scapegoat.

  “I need six new uniforms. This time, I want ladies, tunic-style, with over-jackets, size petite, extra small.”

  The ensign entered the order. “I can have them delivered, sir.”

  Dana shook her head. “I’ll wait.” It would give Gordon, Kulak and Mansfield time to clear the corridor.

  After a few minutes, the ensign retrieved a bundle from the duplicator and handed it over.

  “Excellent…thank you,” Dana casually flung over her shoulder as she headed for the exit.

  She stopped at her quarters, thinking about changing into a fresh uniform. The instant she removed her old uniform top, she had the alibi she needed.

  Mansfield’s brutal force had left bruise marks upon her arms and shoulders. In another day, they’d look even worse, but already were sore to the touch and an ugly greenish-gray.

  Perfect! They’ll be my ticket off the mission — my excuse.

  It fulfilled Kieran’s order without a second thought. Even Captain Macao couldn’t ignore them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Dana decided to wear one of the new jackets over her current uniform top, sealing the seam closed. Though still disturbed by the discordant vibration, she felt ready to face Captain Macao. As an afterthought, she slipped off the N-link from about her neck, leaving it on the desk. Was Kieran the reason why the Captain had ordered her to wear it while aboard Karis? Could that be it?

  She couldn’t tell just yet.

  With the data chip of her findings on the trader in the jacket pocket, Dana headed up to the Captain’s quarters. This time, when he bade her enter, she charged in.

  Macao wasn’t expecting her; and that made her case all the easier, having the element of surprise.

  “Captain, I cannot work with that man! He is insufferably rude! And belligerent! I swear, he hates women. I will not stand for it. I’ll transfer out. If he’s on the team, I’m off!”

  She mustered as much venom as possible for the long-winded tirade and, though not as good an actor as Kieran Jai, she thought it went well.

  Macao, however, found it mildly amusing. He got up from his desk and looked down upon her. “Don’t let him get to you, Dana. He’s all wind.”

  “Captain, he threatened me physically. I will not tolerate such abuse.”

  “Threatened you? Dana, you’re more than capable of….”

  She glared at Macao. “If you refuse to listen to me, I’ll just go enter my transfer request right now.” She whirled about and started for the door.

  Macao loudly scolded, “You’re not dismissed.”

  At the command, Dana froze in her tracks, turned about, and snapped to attention. She made a brave attempt of fighting back tears, which had come unbidden to her eyes. His tone triggered a gut reaction, worse than DOC Cartwright’s scolding when she was a child.

  Macao looked quite tired and irritable. Fed up. That was a good description. Dana almost regretted dumping this on him now.

  “I’ll take care of Tighe,” he offered. “He won’t give you any more trouble.”

  Dana’s mouth dropped open. “Captain, I wasn’t speaking of Tighe. It’s Mansfield!” She gritted her teeth, just thinking of the man. “So help me, if I run into him one more time, I’m going to kill him. And it’ll be a clear case of self-defense.”

  She looked down at the deck so that he couldn’t see her eyes.

  Macao stiffened. “Does this constitute a formal complaint?”

  Dana nodded.

  “What did Mansfield do, besides bruise your ego?”

  It was a cruel thing for a commanding officer to say. She glared, too stunned to reply.

  “You told me you weren’t a squeamish female, but you come running to me crying like one.” Macao said accusingly, “Support your accusations or drop the complaint.”

  Dana stared at the deck. “I will not withdraw the complaint,” she said. “Permission to leave?”

  “Denied! Dana?” Macao crossed the room to face her, gripping her shoulders firmly.

  She winced in pain.

  His face went cold. “Remove your jacket,” he ordered. He tugged on the sleeves to speed up the process and stood behind her, pulling her uniform top up over her head.

  She clutched the shirt to her breasts, suddenly embarrassed by the whole affair, but it was her bare arms and shoulders Macao stared at; and the greenish-gray bruises Mansfield’s assault had left.

  “Mansfield did this?” Macao slid his hands tenderly down her arms then bowed his head until his forehead touched the back of her head, his cheek pressed against her fiery hair. “Dana…I’m sorry. I…” He scowled. “Forgive me for doubting you. I’ll convene a court-martial as soon as this mission is over. In the meantime, he won’t have an opportunity to trouble you again.”

  Dana silently slid her shirt back on. Macao held the jacket up, but made no movement to give it back to her, offering, instead, “I apologize for my insensitivity.”

  “Captain?”

  “I’ll need a medical report from Patel and you’ll need to dictate a full account. Don’t let your yeoman transcribe it. I want the original.”

  Dana shuddered at the thought of Doctor Patel having to examine the bruises. “Captain, I…don’t want to press charges. I just want to be off the team. You can’t afford to have your command staff bickering on such a critical mission.”

  “And I can’t ignore this! Assaulting an officer… Mister Mansfield must be censured.”

  “Sir, I don’t want this to go any farther. Don’t you see, I’ll never get another assignment if word of this reaches my mentor in the Star Service.” Dana shuddered at the thought. “I shouldn’t have come to you.”

  “You should have come earlier.”

  “I did,” she protested, rolling her eyes in frustration.

  Macao frowned. “Yes, you did.” He patted her shoulder. “And I was too wrapped up with the situation to sense the problem. I wrote off the resentment of you on the bridge as being Dan Nichols. However, Mansfield was equally hostile.”

  Dana turned to face him. “To be perfectly honest, Captain, every officer on board has been resentful at one point or another, including yourself.”

  Macao scowled, momentarily speechless. He held the jacket up for her to slide her arms into it. “I’m certain my attitude has a great deal to do with this. I set the precedent.”

  He turned toward the silent life-star. “I confess my insensitivity. There have been very few women in my life that have lived up to my expectations.”

  “Like your mate?”

  He nodded, “And the Enturian Fleet Master Captain.”

  Dana could easily draw conclusions about the ‘type’ which impressed Macao. They were women with few faults, emotionless, professional, powerful. She respected and admired them as well.

  “I’m not in their league,” she admitted.

  “I think you’re wrong, Doctor Dana,” Macao said, staring long and hard at her. “You’re every bit as capable, but you’ve been coddled by the Service. You just need experience. I want you on this mission.” He nodded toward her shoulders. “Those bruises aren’t enough to warrant replacing you.”

  The gambit had failed. The only thing left to do was tell Macao the truth — at least, part of it.

  “I have a confession to make, sir.” She faced him squarely. “Mansfield isn’t the only reason why I want off the mission.” She took a seat on the edge of the bunk. “It’s Tighe. I know him — f
rom Earth.”

  “Intimately?”

  “Intimately,” Dana confessed.

  Macao chuckled. “I thought as much. That look on your faces.”

  “That obvious?”

  “Oh, yes,” Macao said, studying her quite carefully, “It’s his memory of Forever Pointe…no wonder Shalee kept bringing it up to me.”

  Dana nodded.

  “He has some sort of hold over you. Something strong enough to make you give up your heart’s desire.”

  Dana answered without a qualm, “Stronger.”

  Macao deliberated some time before he admitting, “He’s with SSID.”

  She didn’t dare lie, but locked stares with him.

  “You’re not, though,” Macao continued. “Neville Brandt was. I see the picture.” He pegged it, “Entrapment…our spy aboard must be worth the risk.”

  Dana didn’t answer.

  “I won’t name the team members until the very last minute. For all practical purposes, behave as though you still desire to go.”

  “That won’t be difficult,” Dana sulked.

  “There’s only ten more hours before the mission starts,” he reminded. “Is Karis ready?”

  “Yes, the preflight is in my jacket pocket.” She reached in and handed it over.

  Macao held the recording. “Report to the infirmary.”

  “But…”

  “Tell them you were practicing some hand-to-hand combat; that’s not too far from the truth.” Macao looked for her reaction.

  She looked skeptical. “If Patel asks with whom, what do I say.”

  Macao smiled wryly. “Say it was with me.”

  “Lie?”

  “Do you want me to wrestle you to the floor right now, Mister Cartwright? Or would you rather tumble on that bunk?”

  She realized he was teasing — no, taunting — but the idea didn’t repulse her at all this time.

  He offered a smile. “It might be fun.”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you love Kieran as much as I think you do?”

  She glanced at the deck. “More…”

  “Yet you haven’t mated with him?”

  “Sir, now is not the time to...”

  “Forever Pointe?” Macao sank down at his desk and leaned way back in the chair. “All those images of Forever Pointe that I sense when you are near, they’re Kieran’s.”

  “I have never been there,” she assured. “He gave that memory to me when he was trapped in the wreckage of the shuttle, Stiletto, and I was the doctor that tended him.”

  “You did his back surgery?”

  She nodded. “I assisted on the hand surgeries as well.”

  Janz shut his eyes and stretched his neck, wincing from the stiffness. “It all makes sense now.”

  Dana got up to leave. “I didn’t know you were brothers. I would have…” She broke off without finishing.

  “Pretend that we wrestled,” he ordered. “Patel knows I ‘play’ rough.”

  She turned to go, remembered herself and asked, “Permission to leave, sir?”

  “Dismissed.”

  She looked back just before stepping out into the corridor. He’d gotten up from the chair and crossed to activate the backlight on the life-star and stood staring into the center.

  Dana noted something different about it; however, at first she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Only when she was outside the door of the infirmary did she realize, of the two blank spaces she’d noted last visit, only one remained.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Thankfully, Doctor Patel wasn’t in the infirmary. An assistant checked over her bruises, used a sonic healing device, confirmed no damage was done, and wrote up the report as an accidental injury during exercise workout.

  No special compensation…No big deal…

  After leaving the infirmary, she sought sanctuary in her quarters. While showering, Dana had the distinct feeling that Macao’s eyes were still upon her. She found the sensation troubling, and hoped it would wear off as she read from the padlet and reviewed the mission file. The welts from Mansfield’s assault would also fade; her thoughts about the incident would not.

  As she stood before the mirror, wrapped in a towel, she wondered, “Why did I let him do this?” Her reflection taunted, “I could have decked him…in a heart beat. I had the advantage. I’m smaller and more agile. I let him bully me. Why?”

  She stared at the woman in the mirror, demanding, “Are you a squeamish female?”

  The answer troubled. “Of course, you are…and always will be.”

  The voice was DOC Cartwright’s, the intent to scold her. All the martial arts training in the universe meant nothing. “Toughen up, Dana!”

  She gritted her teeth. “Next time, fight back. You could deck Mansfield. You could deck the Captain, though at what cost?”

  Her blue eye twinkled, as she recalled the intoxicating joy of Kieran’s touch. “Oh, how I long for him to hold me again.” However, the word ‘entanglements’ kept resurfacing.

  She sighed, ordered herself to get some sleep and slid, between the sheets.

  Warning klaxons sounded. Red alert!

  Dana tumbled from her bunk, realizing quickly it was but a vivid dream. Yet, her heart pounded like thunder.

  In it, she manned the helm of a small, survey ship facing a massive anomaly. It looked like a wall, blotting out all the stars. She guessed it was The Van Corey Belt…so the scene had to be from the Calvary…with Franklin Shepherd at the helm…and from his point-of-view.

  What does it mean?

  She couldn’t be certain, though a hint of a smile crossed her face as she thought of her human father. The N-link remained on the desk, near the Shakespeare books, so with both eyes closed, she could feel a comfortable empathetic connection to him.

  Thank you for the gift…Commander Brandt tried to deliver it.

  What came back in return puzzled her.

  April.

  Before she could ponder the meaning, the intercom sounded and Janz Macao snapped, “I need you on the bridge, Mister Cartwright!”

  “On my way, sir…”

  She scrambled into a clean, crisp tunic uniform and hurriedly tugged on boots. As an afterthought, Dana went to the book collection, took up volume two, of the richly bound books, titled, Macbeth, released the clasp, and opened the cover. The center of all the pages was hollowed out. A heavy black cloth covered an object. She stripped away the cloth and held a sleek, highly polished sheath protecting the Sterillian blade.

  “My trusted friend,” she whispered, secreting the dagger in her left boot. If ever there was a time to be armed, it was now.

  When she stepped off the lift and onto the Bridge, still in the process of braiding her hair, the Captain pointed her to her station. He then came to hover at her elbow.

  “Take a look at this energy signature…” He pointed to the left of the screen and whispered, “Play along.”

  Playing wasn’t her forte…neither was acting.

  She frowned at the readings. “Not good,” Dana commented, looking up into his frown. Her left eye narrowed. “That is not one of ours.”

  “Indeed…we have uninvited company, and this time, there’s no cat to come along and save the cheese.”

  Dana scowled at the reference to their cat-and-mouse game played with the Blade Class shuttle to lure in Karis, clearly a ruse by SSID as cover for Kieran Jai to bring a replacement ship so that the mission could proceed.

  This seemed different. “If they see Karis in our shadow…”

  “Exactly what I feared.” Macao started away, calling to other bridge officers. “Mister Nichols? You’re with me. Mister Cartwright, you have the con. Keep a close eye on our intruder.”

  Dana sank back into the station chair, mumbling, “Aye, I have the con.”

  The twosome quickly headed for the lift. She focused again on the scanner…on the uninvited company, all the while wondering Macao’s intentions and what the effect wold be on the m
ission timing.

  The elusive ship surely indicated the presence of mercenaries; detecting them much sooner than the Captain had intended.

  Dana heaved a sigh. Sam Ehrmann’s mission odds just quadrupled.

  McHale arrived on the Main Bridge to relieve her. The Captain never returned. Dana made her way to the Deck Six galley, craving coffee. All the corridors seemed deserted, and only one man was there having a snack.

  Sam Ehrmann called to her. “You look eager to get underway.” He offered a grin, guessing, “Must be on the team, too. I bet you would be.”

  “Won your bet then,” Dana answered, ordering a coffee and taking it. “May I join you?”

  He beamed, “Absolutely,” and pointed to the chair beside him, facing the door. “You look a little shaken. Everything okay?”

  “Scans have detected some ‘uninvited company’ in the area.”

  “Probably mercs…exactly as the mission file predicted.” Ehrmann patted her upper arm, offering a wink and a nod, “Time for some action. Let the fun begin.”

  That did little to cheer her.

  “Come on, Dana, cheer up. This isn’t your first time, is it?”

  “I have…reservations.” She didn’t dare tell him the truth, or her fears.

  “Not to worry, you’ve got the Captain…and me…on your team.”

  “That leaves about a dozen enemies,” she quipped.

  “No, not enemies. Take McHale, for instance. He’s very impressed that you ordered the circuitry in engineering to be rewired rather than jury-rigged. And Chief Miller said you rank among the best pilots he’s ever seen.”

  “Really? He said that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dana felt marginally better. “I guess I got off on the wrong foot with Nichols and Mansfield.”

  “Those two are always walking around in a stew,” Sam mumbled, “Forget ‘em. There’s no pleasing their ilk.”

  “You’ve been aboard Lancer a long time,” Dana commented. “I guess you should know.”

  He winked, “I like the action around here. Some ships can be awfully boring. At least Captain Macao recognizes my other — how should we say — talents. Makes up for the rest.”