Angels and Ministers of Grace

by Michelle O'Leary

  Frank lost his grin in a hurry. "Yes, sir, on my way."

  The screen switched to an external view of the destroyer and the fighters entering the docking bay. Jason started away to head down to the flight deck, but Marta detained him with a hand on his arm.

  "Go easy on him, Jace. He did what he thought was right."

  "He disobeyed a direct order, Captain. Are you seriously trying to tell me that counts for nothing?"

  "Of course not, but—"

  "The end justifies the means?" he finished for her, trying to keep his voice low enough for them not to be overheard. "You've got your destroyer, so what was done to get it is okay, right? Even if it means a woman's life—or don't you remember the last time she pulled a stunt like this?" he snarled, pulling his arm out of her grip and walking away. The pained awareness that had come into her eyes gave him very little comfort.

  Anya wouldn't have told Frank that she might burn out—he wouldn't have taken her then. But the possibility was there. She had just put about a thousand people to sleep. How could they expect her not to be affected?

  He was pacing the flight deck like a caged tiger when the shuttle appeared. The deck personnel and the waiting medical team were all casting him wary looks, but he didn't notice. How could he have let her go? He should have known by her parting kiss that she was up to something.

  The shuttle docked, and he was the first one in before the door had even fully opened. Frank had strapped Anya into the copilot's chair, and Jason loosened the restraints with swift fingers, staring worriedly at her pale features. "Anya," he called and felt for a pulse. It was strong and regular, but it had been the second time he'd rushed her to medical, too—when the doctor had said she might never wake up.

  Ignoring Frank, Jason lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the shuttle, placing her on the anti-grav bed the medical team had brought. Then he stepped back with reluctance and allowed the team to take over. They started away, and he followed, unable to let her out of his sight even though Marta could probably use him in the Command Center.

  Frank appeared at his shoulder as they left the flight deck and headed towards Medical with swift efficiency. "I'm sure she'll be okay, Jace."

  Jason refused to look at him, afraid that he'd haul off and deck him if he did. "Report to the captain, Lieutenant," he snapped and stalked away, as Frank slowed to a stop.

  "Yes, sir," he heard Frank say behind him, but he didn't look around to see if his expression was as morose as his tone.

  Doc Bradshaw was waiting when they arrived. He said nothing to Jason, just shook his head and began working on Anya. Jason waited by the door, watching with empty eyes as the medical team performed their dance on her for the third time. When they moved her to the recovery room and Bradshaw waved him in, Jason went with a heavy heart.

  "Same story, Doc?"

  The man grimaced and gave him a short nod. "She's overused herself again. What was it this time, if I may ask?"

  "She put a destroyer crew to sleep," he mumbled, ignoring the man's aborted exclamation as he moved to Anya's side. Settling on the now bitterly familiar hover stool, he studied her pale face with a sick helplessness.

  The woman who had cared for her before gave him a compassionate look as she fussed with the monitors. "She woke up before, Commander. I'm sure she'll come back to us again."

  "I wish I could be so sure," he rasped, sparing her a brief glance before turning his burning eyes back to Anya. Grasping her hand with gentle care, he lifted it and touched her cool flesh against his temple.

  "She has you to come back to. What better incentive could there be?" the nurse murmured, before she headed for the door with brisk strides.

  Jason barely heard her, but was aware of the ominous silence closing around him as he sat alone by her side. Besides the muted conversation of the monitors, there was no other sound in the room and the quiet pressed on him with callous insistence.

  To break the oppressive silence, he muttered, "This is getting to be a bad habit, you know." But her lack of response only made the quiet worse.

  With an agonized breath, he closed his eyes and turned his head to press his face against her cool skin. "Just come back to me, Anya. Please," he whispered. His only answer was the aching weight of silence.

  One the fourth day of waiting, the med staff and his captain forced him from her side. Marta stood over him in his quarters like a cruel goddess, glowering at him as she watched him choke down a meal. It tasted like dust in his mouth. Oscillating between cajoling and outright threats, she got him to shower and change. She also tried to convince him to rest, but short of locking him in his quarters, she couldn't stop him from returning to Medical.

  Her friends were visiting again when he arrived. They'd been his near constant companions in his vigil, and he'd come to appreciate their unobtrusive presence. Even Cesna was subdued when they came, though her eyes were always red and swollen from tears. When he entered her room, the three made space for him at Anya's side with a quiet respect and faint, welcoming smiles.

  But instead of their usual greetings, Jar said without preamble, "I think she's waking up."

  His heart gave a painful squeeze, and he almost stumbled to her side, gazing down at her pale features with wild hope. The skin around her eyes looked bruised, but instead of the lifeless stillness of the past couple of days, he could see her eyes moving under her bluish lids. Her breathing was also different, her chest rising with deep inhalations instead of the shallow breaths of the past few days. She gave a whisper of sound, and Jason clasped her hand with a swift breath of hope.

  Always practical, Jarden dimmed the lights and called for a nurse to have painkillers ready. But none of her friends crowded close to usurp his place at her side, so his was the first face Anya saw when her eyes fluttered open.

  Jason sagged to a sitting position on the bed next to her as a surge of relief drained the strength from his limbs. He tried to stay calm, but his voice was hoarse with emotion when he said, "Hey, beautiful."

  The ocean blue of her eyes was hazy with pain and confusion. She blinked at him for a long moment before she tried to speak. "Who…" But her face clenched with pain, and she lifted a weak hand towards her throat.

  Jar passed him a container of fluid, and he held it for Anya as she sipped from it. When she rested back against the pillow again and stared up at him, he pulled the container back and gave her a strained smile. "You do something like that again, and I'm gonna lock you up for the rest of your life."

  Her pupils dilated with something like shock, and she shifted away from him. "Excuse me?" she whispered, her brows pulling together in a light frown. "Who are you?"

  "W-what?" he asked in a faint voice, sudden foreboding stealing the breath from his lungs.

  "Do I know you, mister? Where am I?"

  Jason couldn't move, frozen by dread. Jar leaned in far enough for Anya to catch sight of her as she asked, "You don't know where you are, honey?"

  Anya's face smoothed into a welcoming smile. "Jar," she whispered. "Hey, what is this place? And why does my head hurt so much? Was I in an accident?"

  Jarden's grave eyes met Jason's for a moment before she turned her attention back to Anya. "You don't remember being in Medical before?"

  "You know I haven't been sick a day in my life. I feel like crap. What's going on?" Her blue eyes turned wary as she met Jason's numb gaze. "And who is this guy?"

  The pain was almost unbearable. Jason rose to a standing position and swayed there for a moment before he backed away from the bed, aware of the sympathetic faces of her friends.

  "Ani, what's the last thing you remember?" Jar asked in a quiet voice.

  "We were going on tour again. First stop, Basilia's garden moon." Then she grimaced. "But my voice sounds like hell. I think we'll have to cancel, girls."

  Jar turned solemn eyes on Jason. "That was just before the Guild found out about her."

  "What d'you mean, they found out?" Anya asked, her voice cracking
with strain. "They've ignored me for years…oh, my head." She lifted trembling hands and covered her face.

  At that moment, Aggie bustled in and squeezed in between them to administer something into Anya's IV. "There, love, that'll take the pain away."

  Breaking his silence with an effort, Jason croaked, "Get the doctor. She's lost her memory."

  "What?" Aggie said with wide, startled eyes.

  But Jason was beyond explanations, beyond tolerance. He turned and strode out of the room, bellowing for the doctor. A blond woman hurried over, her uniform proclaiming her to be a physician.

  "Dr. Surnim. Where's Bradshaw?"

  "There was a shift change over two hours ago, Commander. What seems to be the problem?"

  "Anya. She's awake, but she's lost part of her memory."

  Her lips tightening and her brow creasing with concern, she didn't waste time questioning him further. Brushing past him, she disappeared into Anya's recovery room. Jason stood where he was for a long moment, feeling lost and empty. The bright lights of the med bay swirled around him, and he sagged against the wall. He couldn't think of what he should be doing, and he leaned there, staring at nothing with his mind frozen in a vast, despairing silence.

  "She'll remember," someone murmured at his side, and he glanced down to see Jar watching him with compassionate eyes.

  "What if she doesn't?"

  She shrugged. "Then you start over. She's still the same person, and she was crazy about you. It wouldn't take long for her to feel that way again."

  "Start over…"

  "Yeah, you know, court her." She gave him a wry smile. "You were a surly ass last time and she still wanted you. Shouldn't take long if you make an actual effort."

  He said nothing to that, rubbing his face with weary hands. The world was gray, and he was tired. So tired.

  "This is an unusual case," a voice said, breaking into his thoughts.

  He let his hands fall to see Dr. Surnim standing before them with a puzzled frown.

  "I've never seen a telepath lose memory when they overuse their talents. I will consult with Dr. Bradshaw, since this is his patient, but I believe he'll agree with me. Then again, she's not a telepath. Did she have any memory loss the last time she overstretched herself?"

  "None, as far as we could tell," Jarden answered in a subdued tone.

  The doctor shook her head. "That doesn't mean this isn't a result of the cumulative effects of burning out twice in a short span of time. But as I've said, this does not happen to telepaths."

  "What else could cause it?"

  She stared over their heads with a thoughtful frown. "There was no evidence of physical trauma, to her head or any other portion of her body. She couldn't have come in contact with a brain wiper—they don't carry those on Fleet ships. Besides, they wipe the whole mind, not selected memories. Unless…was she in contact with a telepath, by any chance? Such an act is prohibited, of course, but I can't think of anything else that would do this."

  Jason looked at Jar and saw the same vivid dawning of comprehension in her eyes that he felt in himself. There had been two telepaths on the destroyer and both had been awake when Frank had reached the bridge. He pushed away from the wall and headed for the door with long, punishing strides. Jarden was right on his heels. "Stay here," he snapped over his shoulder.

  "Like hell I will," she answered in the same tone.

  He didn't bother to waste time arguing. They headed with due speed to the detention center of the station and the holding cells. The Guild Members were both there, though in separate cells, far away from each other. They were monitored, but the staff was under orders not to approach them in person. They were cared for by automated systems only so they wouldn't be tempted to influence anyone.

  The officer on duty greeted Jason with startled relief, "Commander!"

  "Has anyone interrogated the telepaths yet?"

  "No, sir. The captain gave orders that no one was to see or speak to them until she said otherwise."

  "Get her down here. She'll need to hear this."

  With that, he brushed by the man and headed to the monitoring room. Jarden didn't leave his side, her delicate features grim. They surprised the guard on duty as much as they had the officer. She stumbled to her feet with an exclamation when they burst into the room.

  "C-Commander! Sir, no one said you'd be coming—"

  "Which ones are the telepaths?" he barked, cutting her off. There were many monitors and most showed holding cells filled with people. The officers of the destroyer were being held here, but there hadn't been enough cells for the rest of the crew. They were being contained in an empty cargo bay.

  With wide eyes, the guard pointed out two holding cells, both with single occupants. The female was sitting still as stone, but the male paced his small confines like a wild animal caged.

  "I'm going down there. Keep a close eye on them and keep the audio open. If I show any signs of being…affected by either one, gas the room."

  "Sir!" she exclaimed, stepping in his path. "You can't; the captain gave orders—"

  "The captain's on her way. Remember, a close watch and listen carefully," he said, pushing by her.

  Something in his face must have changed her mind because she gave way with a grimace. "If you're really going in, try the guy first," she said. "He's been begging for somebody to talk to him for days."

  He nodded and then turned to Jarden. "Stay here." She opened her mouth, but he held up a stern hand to forestall her. "No argument. You can watch from here."

  Pressing her lips together, she glared at him for a moment before giving a reluctant nod. Satisfied, he spun on his heel and strode out the door, heading down the corridor to the holding cells. As he went, he felt a pressure building inside him, a fury that was becoming uncontrollable. He knew he needed a clear head to speak to the telepaths, but with every step closer to them, the rage built to higher levels.

  When Jason stopped in front of the male telepath's cell and keyed in the security override on the door, he was breathing like he'd just run a mile. When he stepped into the room and saw the man, saw the Guild insignia on his collar, he lost control.

  With one stride, he reached the man and drove a hard fist into his face. The man went down in a flail of limbs and a gargled cry of pain, blood running down his chin from a split lip. Jason leaned over him, grabbing a handful of his shirt and cocking his fist back, ignoring the frantic shake of the telepath's head. "What did you do to her, you bastard!" he snarled, more than willing to drill the guy again. And again and again and…

  "It wasn't me!" the man cried, throwing an arm up in front of his face.

  That cut through Jason's fury enough to make him pause. "What?"

  "I've been trying to tell you people for days. Sarah…the other 'path—I mean, the other Guild Member, she wouldn't listen to me when I told her to stop, told her it wasn't right, wasn't ethical, but she—"

  Jason gave him a hard shake to get him to stop babbling and then hoisted him to his feet. With unrelenting hands, he yanked the telepath over to the bunk and sat him down. Stepping back, he folded his arms and tried to rein in his anger. It wasn't easy—his whole body shook with violence. "Start over," he barked.

  The telepath wiped at his chin with a shaking hand, eyeing Jason with wild, wary eyes. Jason realized belatedly that the 'path was young, just out of his teens if he was a day. He was also terrified.

  "I'm a junior member, on my first official mission. Sarah was senior to me, lead on this mission. I was just there to watch, to see how it's done. I didn't expect—" He paused, his body shuddering like an animal in a trap. "That woman came onboard, the fugitive. She—she's…I don't know what she is, but she almost knocked us both out, like she did the crew. Not quite, though. And she collapsed. Before that Lieutenant got us with his shocker, Sarah crawled over to her…" The boy stopped again, hunching his body and shaking his dark blond head as if in denial. "She tried to wipe her mind. I saw, I tried to stop her, but I was confus
ed, tired. It wasn't right! We weren't taught that way; we don't do that to people. She—she was—how could she do that? The woman was done, anybody could see that. Out cold. Why did she hurt her like that?"

  He looked up at Jason with pleading, wet eyes, little more than a child begging for answers from a cruel, indifferent world. Swallowing his sympathy with an effort, Jason reminded himself that even a young telepath could be dangerous. "Is that all you can tell me?" he asked in a hard voice.

  Lowering his head, the telepath mumbled, "She's not right in the head. She can't be. She was going to kill that lady or same as, anyway. You wipe somebody, they're gone for good. Only a monster would do that. The Guild wouldn't…would they?"

  When he lifted his gaze back to Jason, his face had seemed to age, hazel eyes now bitter and empty. Disillusioned. The truth was on his face and in his toneless voice, though he'd asked anyway.

  But Jason couldn't spare him any sympathy at the moment. "What do you mean, gone for good? Will those memories never come back?"

  "She didn't finish. She could undo what she did," the boy said in a monotone, the life seeming to drain from him. "But she won't," he finished in a whisper.

  "Can you undo it?"

  "No," the 'path murmured, shaking his blond head slowly back and forth. "No…"

  Jason turned without hesitation and headed for the door.

  "But," the boy said in a louder voice behind him. Something in his tone made Jason pause and glance back over his shoulder. The telepath's expression had turned grim with resolve and he straightened his back, meeting Jason's gaze with eyes gone hard. "I can make her."

  Jason turned back with slow deliberation. "You'd force her?"

  The boy swallowed hard, a flicker of uncertainty in his hazel eyes. "I—I don't want to." Then his face hardened, mouth pressing into a grim line. "But I will. To do what's right, undo the wrong she did, to see justice done. Make her give back what she stole. I'm strong enough to do that. It's why the Guild pushed me into service so early. I'm a strong telepath."