As the new Fleet Commander, Yatrell wanted to know what his fleet captains excelled at. To determine the best assets his captains possessed, he created a short competition between them all. Things seemed to start off in good spirits. Anara won an agility competition. Canith won a rapid movement navigation competition. A captain by the name of Hote showed everyone around an engineering feat that few understood. Cal Rusik won a competition for ship and shuttle knowledge. By mid-afternoon break, everyone was starting to wear out a bit. Most took the time to get to know each other, but Rusik and one other stood around seemingly grumpy over the events.
Anara approached Cal, hoping to bridge the divisions being drawn and help the events run more smoothly. “Hey, you’ve been keeping busy over there, hu? It’s good to see you again.”
Cal glared at her. “The only thing that’s good for you to see is the ceiling. Back off, I don’t need serviced right now.” His sharp tongue and vile words caught Canith and Set’s ears.
Both men joined the conversation, and Cal found himself at the end of a very heated situation where he was badly outnumbered. When things became loud, Yatrell interceded.
“What’s going on here?”
“Nothing, Fleet Commander.” Rusik’s buddy chimed in quickly.
“That’s not what it sounds like.” Fleet Commander Jae looked between each member of the conversation with a stern expression. “Now tell me what’s goin’ on here.”
“What not listening to our minds right now, fleet commander?” Cal grated.
Yatrell squared off with Captain Rusik, “Listen to me well, Captain. I have an obligation to this fleet, and if you intend to prevent us from establishing the connections we need to make, you can be removed. Do I make myself clear?”
Captain Rusik leaned into Yatrell’s face. and growled, “Clearly, Fleet Commander Jae. Keep your slut and her pimps away from me, and we’ll be just fine.”
Yatrell didn’t think. He balled up his fist, and moved to hit Cal, but was stopped by Anara’s hand. “No. You have other concerns. How about a competition instead?”
Yatrell dropped his fist, and his gaze met hers. Accepting in the wisdom of her words, he stepped back. The moment he relented, Anara sucker punched Cal, forcing him to double over to catch his breath.
She leaned over, and whispered in his ear, “I promise you, Yatrell will wipe the floor with your face before it’s all done.”
Canith chuckled. “That’s my girl!”
Anara raised an eyebrow at him, and gave him a slight smirk in response. Set had to chuckle.
Yatrell turned to address the room. “If all of you would like to, there will be a close combat demonstration on the training deck in the combat circle.”
He walked out of the room. Anara, Canith, and Set escorted Cal Rusik and his friend to the training deck. Many of the other captains followed. When they reached the training deck, Yatrell took off his rank insignia, his uniform jacket, and handed them to Set. He then entered the combat training circle, marked out in the center of the floor, and waited for Cal to join him.
Cocky and crass, Cal removed his uniform jacket, and walked into the ring. “You sure you want to do this, Fleet Commander? I used to beat you regularly.”
“Things aren’t the same as they were ten and twelve years ago, Cal.” Yatrell lifted his hands and arms to protect his face and head. “Take your best shot.”
Cal stepped into a punch, landing it squarely on Yatrell’s arm. Yatrell side stepped and laughed. Cal attempted another punch from the other side, trying to catch Yatrell by surprise, but Yatrell caught his fist instead. Yatrell took advantage of the opportunity, and slammed Cal in the chest hard with his other fist. He followed the punch up with another, while he continued to hold Cal’s fist. When Cal was practically kneeling, Yatrell kicked him backwards.
“Yield?”
“To a dirty mind reader? Not on your life.”
Cal got back up, and ran, shoulder down at Yatrell, knocking the wind out of him, and pushing him over onto his back. Cal then started to punch him in the face and chest repeatedly. The thunderous blows came in rapid succession. Yatrell raised his hands protectively, but took advantage of every opening as it came. The first moment he could, Yatrell grabbed Cal’s shirt, and yanked him to the side, slamming him on the ground hard.
When Cal was down, Yatrell moved to his feet and stared down at Cal. “Yield.”
“No.” Cal spit blood at Yatrell, before standing again. He threw another punch at the Fleet Commander. This time, it missed the target completely. Frustrated, he threw another one and again, he missed as Yatrell ducked and side stepped. “Stand still so I can hit you!”
Yatrell addressed the other captains in attendence. “As you can see, this is exactly what you shouldn’t do in a close corners battle. Avoidance is crucial, but if you can’t strike a target when you punch, find a different approach.” Yatrell ducked down, and swept Cal’s feet from under him. He then rolled, and landed a boot to his chest, grabbed his arm, and bent it backward in a submission hold. “Yield, Cal.”
“No.” Cal struggled against Yatrell’s hold until something popped, loudly. He cried out uncontrollably.
Yatrell released the hold, and stood. “You’re relieved of duty until your CMO clears you as medically fit, Captain Rusik.” Then he turned, and walked out of the circle.
Cal’s buddy walked over, and helped him stand, his arm hung limp at his side. The two men started out of the training room, moving passed the gathered captains.
Anara stepped in their path. She leaned over to Cal, and in a very low, but clear voice, she said, “He will always be better than you.” She smiled, and stepped aside so they could continue on their way.
Yatrell began a short lesson in movement and action reaction behaviors. Then the rest of the evening continued without further incident, and without Captain Rusik. When the last of the captains lingered, Yatrell went back to his quarters for the night. His mind searched his memories, and he stretched out on his bed. Just as he was getting comfortable his door alerted him of a visitor.
“Come in, Anara,” he called out without getting off his bed.
She walked in, and found her way back to his bedroom. “How’s the face?”
“It’s fine. I heal fast.” Lying back, he shrugged off her concern.
“Okay. I just wanted to check. Turns out Rusik will be back on his bridge in a sling tomorrow, but I’m sure he’ll be careful what he says next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, Anara. I can’t risk his disloyalty in the possible fight with the Xenonian fleet, and certainly can’t risk him against the Ven. Someone will have to take his bridge over when the supply ship leaves the day after tomorrow, because I intend him to be on it.” Yatrell didn’t move from his position. “Too many lives depend on the fact that we can all work together. Friendly rivalries are one thing, Cal took it too far today.”
“Yes, he did.” Her tone was almost as regretful as she imagined Yatrell was feeling.
“I wish there were a solid way to get out of this war. Maybe some planet somewhere with whatever we need.” Yatrell absently mused at his unrealistic options.
Anara chuckled. “Dreams are just that, Yatrell. No one will ever find peace with the Ven. They won’t relent until they are lording over the entire universe. We won’t stop until we know our planet is safe from it, and I think Xenonia is the same way. Cybernetics are likely an easy truce. We would just need to a way for them to reproduce again.”
“I wouldn’t want to be the doctor trying to start that program. They’d be stopping random Cybernetics asking ‘Sir, can I have a sample of your DNA without going through the amalgamation process?’” Yatrell had to laugh at that one, Anara did as well. “Yeah, that’s not such an easy truce.”
Still laughing a little, Anara said, “Yeah that’s true.” She walked over to him and leaned down. Gently, she kissed his head. “I’m goin’ back to my ship now. I’ll catch you for the captain’s conference in
the morning.” She turned, and walked out of the room, making her way back to the Thox.
He watched her go, still wishing he could give more to her. He ached so badly over Kala’s death that the idea of anyone else in his hearts just didn’t fit. Instead of holding onto that thought, he rolled over, opened the drawer to pull out another night time syringe, and jabbed himself with it. More than an hour later he finally fell asleep with wishful images of Kala dancing in his mind.
~*~
The next morning, Yatrell woke, feeling groggy. His head continued to swim with thoughts of Kala, and the hundreds of conversations they had over the years. Every morning started this way, but today his mind lingered even when he tried not to allow it. He put on his uniform, and he walked out to the bridge with a hot drink in his hand. Turiel acknowledged his arrival and returned to the data tablet she was poring over.
“Report, Commander,” he ordered.
“Sir, we think we picked up a listless shuttle with an intermittent distress signal, but I’m trying to confirm it.” Turiel continued to work through the information.“It’s Xenonian. The shuttle is small and definitely drifting. If it keeps at the current rate, it will cross into Ven space within hours.” She looked back up at her commanding officer. “If we help them, we may be able to obtain more information on their fleet.”
“And we may rob the Ven of a new experiment.” Yatrell agreed with Turiel’s suggested course of action. “Let’s get the shuttle on board. We’ll offer any help they require, but don’t give them more than is needed to get them back on their way.”
“Understood, Captain.”
Turiel began to prepare their people to bring the shuttle on board in a secured area. Thirty minutes later, the Rexion over took the Xenonian shuttle, and used a grappling wire to drag it on board. Once it was secured, Turiel reported to Yatrell, and the two made their way to the shuttle bay to greet their guest.
When they entered, a spirited woman was having a frustrated conversation with the security team. She stood just less than a full length smaller than Yatrell and her dark black hair and blue streaks fell loose at her shoulders. When she noticed they walked in, her eyes met Yatrell’s with a heated anger.
“Why are these guys not answering my questions? Why did you take so long to get down here? What kind of commanding officer lets the goons deal with the people they claim to be helping?”
Yatrell was taken aback by her rapid fire questioning style. “Miss –“
She cut him off. “Commander to you.”
Yatrell corrected himself. “Commander, I am sorry about the delay. My commander was seeing to the parts and items that you would require to repair your ship well enough to return to your fleet.” He could tell her mind had been psionicly trained. He was finding it very hard to hear even her surface thoughts.
She looked away for a moment, and attempted to calm herself. She was beyond frustrated her mission hadn’t gone as planned. Now she had to fake an issue, and protect her fleet. “Sorry, Commander… Captain… whatever your rank is. I’m an engineer. The idea that my shuttle is not repairable by me, doesn’t settle well with me. I shouldn’t have had to face this issue now. Everything was in order before I departed my vessel and now…Thank you for the offer of assistance.”
“Well, none of us want to be Ven slaves, so it was the least we could do. I’m Fleet Commander Jae. For now, since this is a gesture of kindness, you can address me as Yatrell. You are?”
Her eyes widened very slightly when she heard his name, but she recovered before most would have noticed. “Commander Sira Fal, First Xenonian Fleet, but I’m sure you knew that part already.”
A quizzical expression spread across Yatrell’s face. “Good to meet you. This is my first commander, Turiel Brek. She’s quiet but she knows her stuff. Don’t hesitate to get our attention if you need it.” Yatrell watched her, and noted a change in her disposition, but he couldn’t understand why. “What had you so far away from your fleet?”
“I’m an engineer. Someone had to test the modifications I made. My senior commanders have confidence in my abilities, sir. My engines, my test. Unfortunately the test didn’t go as expected and it left me drifting. I have contacted my fleet.“
Sira watched everyone and everything with a new perspective, trying to mentally record what she learned from the experience. This was the man who forced one of her closest friends into the depths of pain unlike any other. She was going to be certain she reported the information back to her chain of command and those who would need to be aware.
“Hopefully, we’ll have you back on your way later today. If we can assist you, and avoid them having to cross into Dentonian space, I’m sure that would prove beneficial for all involved. If they do have to retrieve you, I’m sure we can work out a reasonable manner to do so without an incident.” Yatrell offered a cordial smile, and turned to Turiel. “You are responsible for assisting Commander Fal with her shuttle, and getting what she needs. I’ll be on the bridge.”
Turiel acknowledged him and walked to the shuttle. As Yatrell turned to walk way he noticed a slight glint of spark flair up from Sira’s hand. When his eyes met Sira’s, he hesitated, hearing her surface thoughts clearly for the first time.
~You killed her.~
He instantly became remorseful and uncertain of himself as he returned to the bridge. For Yatrell, the day continued as normal. Nothing significant was needed by the Xenonian woman to repair her shuttle. He bid her goodbye and safe journey when she left. When his shift concluded, he left the evening in the hands of his capable beta shift team. The first place he walked down to the shuttle bay to speak with Brax. He had to know if what he heard was right or not. The words lingered with him, and he knew she wanted him to hear them, because nothing else had been clearly heard from her. He knocked on the shuttle door, and the large Xentue opened it.
“I need to know something.”
“Yes, you do. I knew she was out there, but also could not read her. I felt it best to remain inside the shuttle to listen.” Brax stepped from Yatrell’s way, and they walked back to the living area of the shuttle. “She hid her mind well.”
“Better than an average psionic. I think she was playing with fire. Based on that and her ability to protect herself, I’m confident she knew what she was talking, or thinking about.” Yatrell leaned against a wall, and folded his arms. “She knew Kala.”
“I am inclined to believe the same. She was far too well protected mentally. It is even possible the blocks were not her own, but that is only unfounded speculation.” Brax remained his typical calm and relaxed self, even as he spoke about something that concerned him.
“Her tone was angry. I know I’ve not met her before today to justify such anger.” Yatrell searched his mind and thoughts, trying to remember her, but she wasn’t there. His jaw flexes. “What if she didn’t die in the battle? What if she died later, at the hands of her masters, because I wasn’t there to champion her as she requested? Those who knew her would blame me for her loss. They should.”
“The circumstances of her loss are yet unclear to us, brother. Do not wish this upon yourself, and do not accept responsibility for that which you are unaware of.” Brax sat on the floor, and began to breathe deeply. “Even if she knew her, this Commander only harbors an old anger that will die in time. Come, brother, rest your mind, and try to meditate.”
Yatrell nodded absently, and took a position on the floor near Brax. The two entered a meditative state for hours, before Yatrell finally returned to his quarters. He fell into a restless, nightmare riddled sleep.
~*~
The next several days progressed with routine. The supply ship left with those recalled to Dentonia and Captain Rusik, who was sent for reassignment. His crew managed the day to day, and he managed the information coming in from the new captains. Forms, ship manifests, transfer requests, and supply information compiled and sent for his review kept him busy in his office.
Captain Set sent him a suggested Ven deter
rent while they were addressing anything that was off the border. Yatrell agreed, and during the next several days, modified probes and mines were set and laid out up and down the length of their patrol.
Yatrell was awoken one night by an alarm. He laid in his bed, and opened his mind to listen to what was going on. Anxiety gripped him when he heard what prompted the alarm. He quickly got dressed, and walked out onto the bridge.
“Full report,” he ordered.
“Captain we’re not sure. The fleet crossed over and is holding around Tal. According to the governor of Tal, the fleet is resupplying.” His gamma shift leader continued to work through various command functions, and as further information was retrieved, he turned to the Fleet Commander. “Sir, she’s keeping things peaceful, but she’s definitely on our side of the border.”
Yatrell paced the bridge for several minutes attempting to sort out the information. Finally, he turned to his shift leader. “Wake the fleet. It’s time we meet this Xenonian Fleet Commander.”
“Aye sir.” Urgently the bridge moved into action, waking all sixty ship captains within minutes. Within hours, the ships were on the move toward the planet Tal on the edge of Dentonian space.
Yatrell consulted with his teams, and officially named Anara Cree his first captain. They began to discuss various plans and strategies. As they arrived in the Tal system, Yatrell ordered all ships to start continuous scans of the tri-corners area. He then ordered the fleet to slow to thruster speeds, and prepare themselves for what could turn into a significant fight.
When he concluded his final fleet wide communication, he started to stalk back and forth along the bridge. His mind whirled with memories of what this woman did to Kala. Most of all, he remembered this was the woman trying to have Kala killed. Everything she did to Kala flooded his mind until it burned into a seething heat that accompanied his every movement, gesture, and nuisance. His anger continued to intensify as his ship came within communication range. The second they were within range, his crew notified him of an incoming projection communication from the Xenonian commander
Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars Page 142
