Trespassers: Book 1 of the Chaos Shift Cycle

by Cameron, TR

  “Well,” Jannik said, “the spiders weren’t strong enough to detach it from the hull, nor are they intelligent enough to do much more than crawl around where we tell them to and report. We tried using them before we deployed the mongoose, but to no avail. We sent him—”

  Kate interrupted, “What’s his name?”

  Cross read the expression on Jannik’s face and put his forehead down on the table. “You did, didn’t you? The mongoose has a name too.”

  Jannik’s voice conveyed reluctance to share the information. “Jo.”

  Cross looked up, his face wrinkled as he attempted to figure out the moniker. Kate’s lips formed a perfect O. “You did not,” she said.

  “We might have,” Jannik replied. “You can’t argue that it’s inappropriate.”

  “You named—” Kate began, then stopped. “You named the mongoose—” and then she stopped again, as if saying it out loud would somehow be breaking a rule. “You named the mongoose after the captain?”

  Cross laughed, and then couldn’t stop for quite some time. Kate joined him after a few seconds, and Jannik a few seconds later. When they finished, Cross leaned back, wiped tears from his eyes, and took a much larger sip of his drink that he had before. “Okay, naming issues notwithstanding, how did it fare?”

  Jannik sighed. “Sometimes what’s best for the ship isn’t quite as good for its crew, especially crew as disposable as the mongoose. We sent it out over the hull, and it reached the device with no problem. It was able to encircle it and get a few of its useful tools into cracks and crevices around it. We burned out three motors prying it off, but that’s the beauty of the mongoose’s articulated design. Even if one set of appendages burns out, there are several left. Anyway, when we finally got it off, it exploded. It wouldn’t have done much more than puncture the hull and open a single compartment to space, which would’ve been bad enough, but we had already cleared that section just in case. Sadly, the force of the explosion went into the mongoose instead, and now we’re down to the backup.”

  “Poor Jo,” Kate choked out before succumbing to more laughter, which set the other two off again.

  Several minutes later, after he’d endured a wealth of technical conversation that he didn’t understand, the three of them were interrupted as Kate’s communicator sounded. She tapped her wrist to accept the signal, and Okoye’s voice emerged. “Flynn, the Marines need an assist. Please go give them a hand in their regular quarters.”

  “Affirmative, Captain.”

  “Okoye out.”

  Kate stood. “It’s been fun gentlemen, but duty calls.”

  Cross rose with her and said “I’m not busy. I’ll go meet the Marines with you.” She shrugged assent, and Jannik waved the both of them away, pouring himself another belt from the bottle hidden in the toolbox.

  * * *

  It took only minutes to reach the Marines’ living quarters, where the members of the former Toronto’s Bravo Force were setting up shop. A full complement of Marines had gotten off the base and onto the Washington, meaning that all the rooms were filled to double occupancy, except for the officers who warranted singles. Cross and Kate walked down the hallway, seeing efficient Marines stowing their gear in some rooms, and others already asleep or playing cards together in others.

  “One thing you’ve got to admire about the ground pounders is their ability to adapt to any situation.” Crossed gestured as they passed a tall blond Marine who had laid out all the parts for his weapon on his bed and was meticulously cleaning each. “I’m guessing it comes from having limited brainpower.” A sharp exhalation escaped when Kate backhanded him in the stomach.

  “Behave, Cross.”

  They arrived at the end of the hallway to find two Marines in one of the officer’s quarters, both sitting in desk chairs facing the door as if awaiting their arrival. When they saw that an extra person had come along, the female Marine stood up and spun her chair over to Kate, who caught it and sat with her stomach against the back. This earned her an approving smile, and the Marine introduced herself as Gunnery Sergeant Cynthia Miller.

  “We have a small problem here aboard your fine vessel,” she began, “and Gunnery Sergeant St. John and I have been brainstorming solutions for it. We’ve come up with a few, but since it’s your ship, we thought you might have some better ideas.” Her accent had hints of the southern part of what had been North America, Cross thought, but otherwise was as direct and forceful as one would expect a Marine’s voice to be.

  Her partner picked up as she finished, his formal British diction a decided counterpoint to Miller’s delivery. “Our troops were originally assigned to the Toronto, which makes it very lucky we didn’t make it on board. That said, we have no specific assignment right now, so we figure we are part of the Washington until someone tells us otherwise. With that in mind, we need to integrate ourselves into the ship’s operations, and also find some opportunities for our people to train.”

  St. John turned his head toward Kate, displaying a smile that was all too perfect when combined with his striking blue eyes and his white-blond hair. The sharp lines and slight turn at the corner of his eyelids suggested some distant Asian or island ancestry, giving him an exotic look that Cross found irritating. “The captain told us that Lieutenant Commander Kate Flynn was our liaison for our time aboard the Washington. I presume that’s you?”

  She nodded and offered a smile in return. “Guilty as charged, Gunnery Sergeant St. John.”

  “Please, call me Rhys. No need to be quite so formal, is there?” Cross was sure that he had fluttered his damnably perfect eyelashes at Kate. What sort of man fluttered his eyelashes?

  Kate smiled a little wider and said, “Formality is overrated, Rhys. You—you both—should call me Kate.” She gave a backhanded gesture in his direction. “Allow me to introduce the ship’s Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Anderson Cross. No one calls him Anderson.”

  Both Marines nodded and replied, “Lieutenant Commander,” before turning back to Kate.

  “So,” St. John said, “how about we put our heads together on duty roster, supplies, and access for our people? Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

  The tension that he’d released in engineering returned threefold as the Marine turned his masculine charm on Kate. A tiny part of Cross knew that she wasn’t the sort to buy it, at least not for anything more than the entertainment value of some verbal sparring. The rest of him saw only that this moron was trying to make himself attractive to his girlfriend, or friend with benefits, or soulmate, or whatever it was that he and Kate were to one another these days.

  He went still, pushing his emotions down low where they couldn’t betray him, and said, “Wouldn’t you all prefer to stay down here in Marine land?” He paused and gestured. “It seems like you have everything you need here, and you’re not in the way of the working crew who is keeping you all alive.”

  They stared at him, and St. John raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that Marines don’t fall under the heading of working crew, Lieutenant Commander?”

  “I’m more than suggesting it. While we’re in transit, it’s been my experience that you folks are next to useless, at best, and a hazard to everyone around you, at worst.” Cross made a point of looking St. John in the eye. “I mean, what are you qualified for when there’s no ground to pound?”

  He could see the Marine’s anger rise and knew that a counter-assault was coming. He welcomed it, and braced himself. As St. John opened his mouth to speak, Kate interrupted, “Please excuse Cross. He’s had a terrible time of it the last few days, and even at his best, his social skills rival those of a four-year-old. I’d be glad to have coffee with you and discuss how we can all work together. I’m afraid that Cross won’t be able to come. He needs to hit the rack before he goes on shift, don’t you, Cross?”

  He stood up and showed the Marine his teeth, and said, “Yes, I guess I do at that. St. John, Miller.” He left the room, refusing to meet Kate’s eyes or say another
word. He knew that Kate wasn’t playing games with him, but was trying to do what was best for him, best for the Marines, and best for the ship. But that didn’t make him want to punch the Marine, or the nearby walls, any less.

  When he finally reached his quarters, he peeled off his uniform and stepped under the hot spray of the shower, scalding himself until the pain pushed him into an honorable retreat to his bed. He fell asleep to visions of Kate and St. John huddled together, that damned smile drawing her laughter as they talked about his failures, one after the other.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After an effective, efficient, and pleasant cup of coffee with Rhys St. John, Kate wandered toward officer’s country. The crew she passed gave her strange looks, but she barely noticed them. She was trapped in a conundrum and wasn’t sure she saw a way out. On the one hand, someone needed to say something to Cross. His behavior was increasingly erratic over an extended period, and the most recent challenges seemed to have pushed him into a place where no one wanted their commanding officer to be. If his emotions overruled his logic at the wrong moment, he could get them all killed.

  On the other hand, it was much more the captain’s prerogative to advise about command. Kate didn’t have the experience or the required knowledge of psychology to cover it. She feared she’d do more harm than good, and further undermine his already flagging confidence.

  Kate leaned back against a bulkhead and banged her head softly on it. What she wanted to do was go to her quarters, sleep, and wake up the next day to find everything was back to normal. But normal would never come again, now that they had encountered the Xroeshyn. Everyone would need to be at their best to deal with this new reality.

  Since that included Cross, and since she was Cross’s longest-tenured friend, she supposed the burden of getting him back on the right path to his best fell on her. She pushed herself into motion again and found herself at his door long before she was prepared to be there. Resigned to her fate, she keyed in the override to allow her to enter the room.

  One of the many things that annoyed her about Cross was his ability to go from asleep to alert in the blink of an eye, while her brain refused to function without a hot shower and a dose of triple-strength coffee. He sat up as she entered, ready to fight. He must have recognized her silhouette, because he immediately lay back, put his hands over his eyes, and said “Kate, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I know it.”

  “It’s not me you need to apologize to, Cross.”

  “I know. I’ll do it. Soon. Just not right now.”

  She shrugged. “That seems fair. I don’t imagine Rhys has any desire for a midnight visit from you, anyway.”

  Cross didn’t quite growl, but Kate heard the rumble in his voice when he said, “I agree, he certainly doesn’t seem interested in me.”

  She barked a disbelieving laugh. “You’re being petty.”

  He sighed and said, “I know that, too.”

  Kate sat cross-legged on the floor next to his bed and looked up at him. When he tried to move toward her, she held up a hand to keep him in place. When he tried to speak, she waggled a finger to stop him.

  “Cross, I’m going to make this simple for both of us. There’s something wrong with you right now. It’s messing up both your ability to lead the crew, and your ability to be a decent human being. Right now, you’re not the Anderson Cross that I have always known. Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Kate knew what was wrong. As Cross had once said, they could read each other so well, it was scary. But it would be better coming from him, and there was always the possibility she hadn’t quite figured out every single thing wrong with him on her extensive list. He sat up, crossing his legs on the bed and running a hand through his hair.

  He took a preparatory breath, opened his mouth, and failed to speak. She watched as he marshaled his thoughts and tried again, “I can deal with the fact that I’m afraid. It’s not that. Anyone who’s been through what we have, would be, and there’s no shame in it.”

  Kate nodded her agreement, and was glad he could see that much, at least.

  A hoarse edge to his words, he continued “When we found ourselves pulled into the tunnel, I had no idea what to do when we reached the other side. The only thought in my head was to finish the battle against the Gagarin, so when we arrived, that’s what I did. I created the situation we’re in right now. I’m responsible. Me. Responsible for the deaths of everyone on the Toronto, for those who didn’t make it off the starbase, for those on the other ships that were destroyed. And,” he said, his voice shaking, “I’m responsible for all the deaths that are going to come.”

  Tears shined in the corners of his eyes, but they didn’t fall. “Even worse, though, as if anything could be worse,” he sniffed, blinking, breaking the flow of his words, “I almost got us all killed again during the battle at Starbase 14. I fell for that trap, and it’s only dumb luck that I saw it coming before it closed on us. The best thing I could do for everyone right now, is to resign my commission. Maybe I could become a ground pounder too.” He laughed, but it was full of sadness and self-recrimination.

  “But I can’t even bring myself to do that. It would mean abandoning the dream of commanding my own starship, and I’ve given too much to just walk away. So, I have to go through the motions, hide what I’m feeling, and hope it all works out.” He took a deep breath, and Kate could almost see him willing himself to believe his plan was adequate. “On the upside, we destroyed something important of theirs, and they destroyed something important of ours. We’re even now, right? Maybe they’ll stay away, and no one else will have to die because of my mistake.”

  Cross had covered most of the things on her list, save one. His self-doubt was the thing most damaging to his ability to function. Again, she faced a choice, each option worse than the last. Kate could let him continue as he described and not risk their relationship or the potential damage her untrained counseling might cause. Or, she could tell him what he wanted to hear, which would strengthen their relationship and give him a boost of confidence without dealing with any of the underlying doubt. Finally, she could risk their relationship and his chances of continuing in command by forcing him to confront the root of the issue. At this moment, she wished the ship had someone on it who specialized in psychology.

  Kate sighed, leaned over, and took his hand in hers. “Cross, look. I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but if you do, you do. You’re right, it’s fine to be afraid. I am too. But your problem has nothing to do with fear of the enemy. It has to do with you lying to yourself.”

  Cross opened his mouth to speak, and Kate covered it with her other hand. “Shut up and listen. I’m not going to give you platitudes. I’m not going to tell you things just to build you up or make you feel better. You don’t understand the depth of the crisis you’re actually in because you won’t admit it to yourself or to anyone else.” Her thumb stroked the back of his hand in comfort.

  “There’s a voice inside you, a tiny voice, that’s working hard to convince you that everything you do is wrong. It says you were stupid for falling for that trap, and only luck saved you from it. It tells you attacking the Gagarin was wrong, even though it wasn’t you that fired the first shots. It tells you trusting your instincts will only get you and those you love into trouble.” He drew in a deep breath at her words.

  She took her hand away from his mouth and pointed a finger at him. “There’s only one word for that, Cross. Well, two. Total shite.”

  Kate stood up, suddenly angry, and her feet marked a figure eight into the carpet as she paced and spoke, never meeting his eyes. “You’ve been destined for command since the first day you set foot into the Academy. The hard classes were easy for you, and in the impossible ones you did exactly what a good commander should do: you sought help from those who knew better. You excelled in a ridiculous number of areas, making everyone around you—including me—envious of the breadth of your talent. Your ability to talk to people, no matter th
eir background and no matter their station, made forbidden portions of the Academy open to you. Hell, you discovered the secret of the Suicide Run. Only three or four cadets in a year can say as much.”

  Cross attempted to interrupt, but at his indrawn breath Kate yelled at him. “Shut. Up. Cross.” She pushed her long red hair away from her face, tossing her head as she started to walk again, continuing to punctuate each sentence with a gesture aimed at him or perhaps the universe as a whole. “When you entered your rotations, you accomplished just as much as you had at the Academy, putting yourself on the fast track for your own command. When tragedy struck the Vancouver, it was you who made the right choices at the right times. You, Cross.”

  She exhaled with force and sat back on the bed, not looking at him. “You have everything you need to be a great commander. You have the desire, you have the will, you have the smarts, and you have the courage. But for some reason, right now, in spite of every single piece of evidence to the contrary that your experience up to this moment has provided, you are listening to that one stupid voice telling you none of that matters.”

  Cross looked like he would try to speak again, and Kate glared at him until he thought better of it. “Maybe it’s all come too easily for you, although I can’t imagine how that could be, given the challenges you’ve faced. Maybe you just are really that good, and you’ve never faced this little voice before. There’s no way for me to know what has brought you to this place. But I can tell you how to get out of it.” Her voice went quiet, serious, in a tone she doubted he’d ever heard her speak in before.

  “I will only say this once, and then I’m going to leave, and you’re going to think long and hard before you offer me any response. Anderson Cross, you have taken the coward’s path. You are hiding from the difficult truth that sometimes even you will fail. You tell yourself in your head that it’s okay, everybody makes mistakes, and you just need to keep going. But in your heart, that little voice says you’re supposed to be perfect, and you’re arrogant enough to believe you can be. When reality shows you that you can’t, because no one can be,” she yelled, and forced her voice back down to a reasonable level, “you hide. You hide behind noble sacrifices, such as giving up your command, or enduring your suffering, so you may serve your crew. Two words, Cross. Total shite.”