by Gun Brooke
“Sure. I’d tell you if I knew. She talked about the red garnet and said she wanted to see how I was doing. I was flattered, of course, but she really doesn’t know me, so—” Spinner shrugged.
“The two of you looked intense. She wasn’t up to her usual snooping, was she? She’s by no means senile. In fact, she’s still very, very sharp. That said, she edits very little that comes out of her mouth these days.”
Not sure what made her be so blunt with her commanding officer, Spinner said, “She knew my mother. I’m not entirely comfortable discussing that topic, so I may have reacted with some hostility.”
“Oh, trust me, she can take that. Your mother?” Caydoc stopped talking for a moment. “I apologize. That’s none of my business.”
“Apology accepted. Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl now.” Spinner chuckled mirthlessly. “Though some would beg to differ.”
“I can tell that, between us, Nania and I have exhausted you. Rest up and report to the bridge when Doc clears you.”
“Aye, sir.”
After cleaning their tea mugs, Caydoc headed for the door. Halting, she turned around. “You know, Aniwyn, when we’re alone like this, I would prefer that you call me Dael.”
Spinner gaped. Scrambling to find her voice, she replied, “Thank you…Dael.” Dael was such a stark and beautiful name, befitting the impressive woman who stood there looking so intently at her. “You can call me Aniwyn or Spinner—I respond to both.” It wasn’t completely the truth. Most people called her Spinner, and several people had no idea what her given name was.
“Aniwyn is a beautiful name. Otherworldly, even.”
Otherworldly? Spinner started to wonder exactly who had hit their head, she or Dael. “Thank you.”
“As I said, rest up.” She left and the door closed behind her with a hiss.
Spinner slowly stood and headed for the sleeping area. She normally wasn’t all that keen on unsolicited advice, but she was exhausted. As she curled up on her bed and struggled to pull a blanket over her with her good arm, she thought of her strange exchange with Dael. “Call me Dael,” she muttered. “Great idea. What if I get used to that and then slip up on the bridge? Brilliant move.” She shifted until she found the position that hurt the least. Closing her eyes, she tried to figure out why Dael had looked so weird when she was informed that the Do Voy siblings were joining their crew. Nothing made much sense. Perhaps if she slept on it, it would sort itself out in her head when she woke up.
Drifting off, Spinner relaxed into the mattress and rubbed her cheek against the soft pillow. Faint voices spoke in some half-awake dreams, repeating words she’d heard only moments ago. “Aniwyn is a beautiful name”…“knew your mother”…“otherworldly”…“she was my aide de camp”…“Call me Dael.”
Spinner moaned. She didn’t want to hear that again. Stirring restlessly she pressed her face into the pillow. As if the Creator heard her inner plea, dreamless sleep finally claimed her.
Chapter Eleven
**Dael Caydoc**
** Admiral**
**Day 92**
**Advance mission**
**Personal log**
The mission has been uneventful the last month and the crew seems happier, more content. Our counselor suggested part of it might be explained by the disastrous event when the Gemosians’ homeworld was destroyed. Our two resident Gemosians have blended well with the crew, and they are in regular contact with the representative for their officials.
Nania is always nagging me to join the crew in recreational activities. This is rather ironic since she was considered such a stickler for protocol and regulations when she was on active duty. Now, she is joining all sorts of activities, despite her condition. I reminded her of her acerbic comments about basket weaving when we first started out on this mission, but she of course claims I’m exaggerating and putting words in her mouth. I swear to the Creator, if I didn’t adore her, I’d toss her out an airlock.
The deployment of the buoys has gone well. I always dread it, for some reason. Well, I guess it’s not hard to understand why. If we fail with the buoys, we can’t send updates to Oconodos and our people can’t follow us to our new home. We have enough buoys to keep us going for years, which I certainly hope we won’t have to. I don’t expect to run into a perfect planet at every turn, but the idea of a seemingly endless deep-space journey is not appealing.
Today, Spinner conducted an emergency drill with her assault-craft pilots. It was a great success. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her content like this. After the Gemosian tragedy, she bonded with the Do Voy siblings, and as far as I know, the three have been inseparable. I would even go so far as to say she’s corrupted Calagan and Darmiya into playing spin jack and trying some of the moonshine brandy that keeps appearing despite the security officers’ best attempt to find the culprit who makes it. If anyone knew I had procured two bottles to have “just in case,” they’d be completely shocked. Alcohol isn’t exactly prohibited on deep-space missions, but we’re reaching the outer limits of our own system and I cannot be too harsh on the crew. Not if I want them to function at peak performance. This is their life, their existence, and we all know there might be such danger at any given time, they need to truly relax, even if that means bending the rules. Yes, I know, if any one of my peers on Oconodos heard me express this opinion, they’d claim I’ve lost my mind. I used to run such a tight ship, and in most cases I still do, but I’ve never worked under these circumstances before, where my crew has their family and friends onboard.
My direct opposite when it comes to rules and regulations would be Spinner, of course. She seems to operate under the assumption that rules are more like recommendations and that she can pick and choose which ones to follow—and which to disregard. Unless she’s in her assault craft leading her squadron, that is. She’s prepared to take risks personally, but she expects her subordinates to follow her orders to the letter, and I hope to the Creator she won’t lose one of them. She is quite formidable as a daring pilot, but I have seen the evidence of how vulnerable she is. Not sure why I feel so protective of her. Nania would claim Spinner’s gotten under my skin, which is an enormous exaggeration, but she would be right in the sense that Spinner is special. Either you loathe her or you can’t help but like her.
The door chime put a stop to Dael’s recording session. “Enter.”
Darmiya strode inside, her innate energy levels permeating the very air around her. “Hello, Admiral,” she said, her eyes sparkling a unique bluish purple. “I hope I’m not disturbing you while you’re doing something terribly important.”
Dael had to smile. As much as she tried to distance herself from the crew and the civilians, it was impossible not to respond to this woman’s guileless persona. “Not at all, Ms. Do Voy.”
“Oh, Admiral, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Darmiya?” She actually pouted. “I know it’s not right for me to call you by your first name, you being the big boss around here, but please, call me Darmiya?” The young woman tilted her head, a gesture that might have looked fake and wheedling on anyone else.
“Very well, Darmiya. I will keep that in mind. So, what can I do for you? Please, take a seat.”
“Oh, right. Thank you.” Darmiya sat down, arranged the flowing, green skirt of her dress, and pushed the dark, curly hair back over her shoulders. “Admiral, eight days from now, we need to have a party.”
Blinking, Dael tried to figure out this unusual request. “What? A party? For whom?”
“For us. For the crew. For you!” Grinning broadly, Darmiya looked utterly pretty and charming. “In eight days, you will have been on this mission for a hundred days. I think it’s worth celebrating, and everyone I talked to agreed. We could even make it a tradition of sorts. Every hundred days in space is worth celebrating, don’t you think?”
“A party?” Dael’s brain felt sluggish as she tried to imagine throwing some sort of bash on a military vessel. A military vessel with civilian
men, women, and children, she corrected herself.
“Yes, sir.” Frowning now, Darmiya lost some of her glow. “Oh, no, you think it’s a terrible idea.”
“No, no. I didn’t say that. I’ve just never thought about it, but I can tell you have. What would this celebratory party entail? And who have you talked to?”
“I’ve talked to Spinner, of course, and Gazer, Pemmer, Ioanto…Calagan, of course. The usual gang.” Looking expectantly at Dael, Darmiya seemed to have gained new hope of a positive outcome. “My thought was to dock the five ships together—I know that can be done—and have a joint party. That would also have the benefit of us getting to know the other crews and their families. When we always stick to our own ships, it is so easy to divide the crewmembers up into ‘us and them.’ If docking isn’t possible, we could at least have the view screens streaming while the parties are going on.”
Impressed, Dael nodded slowly. “You’ve really given this a lot of thought.” That shouldn’t be such a surprise as Darmiya was one of the most intelligent among her people. “What kind of party?”
“At first we talked about a masquerade. I love masquerades, but we agreed that would be too elaborate. Perhaps we can do that at the two-hundred-day mark when people have had more opportunity to make costumes.” Actually rubbing her palms together, Darmiya continued. “This time, using the different mess halls for eating, dancing, and games of spin jack…just socializing, would be enough, I think.”
The idea of docking all ships had its pros and cons. They couldn’t dock while in magnetar drive, of course, so they would lose time. Security would be an issue as they would be one huge sitting target. Darmiya had a point about the crews bonding, though. Perhaps there was a way around it?
“I’m not opposed to these ideas of yours, Darmiya, but it’s short notice for planning, and I need to bring the matter up at the next meeting with the captains.”
“Yes, I realize that, but you’re the ultimate boss, right?” Darmiya smiled encouragingly. “And Spinner said you truly care about the crew, more than most believed to begin with.” She looked so innocent saying this, but Dael’s heart thudded a few painful beats.
“Quite the compliment from Commander Seclan, I’m sure,” she murmured.
“Oh, she thinks the world of you. Once there was this guy who had a bit too much brandy—oh, now I’m saying too much.”
“I know about the brandy, Darmiya. Go on.” More curious than she let on, Dael laced her fingers and rested her hands on her desk.
“Well, this man, he complained about some extra duties and how that messed up his private life. He expressed himself pretty crudely. I actually learned some curse words in your native tongue that I didn’t know. You should’ve heard Spinner. First, she had him stand at attention, which looked rather funny as he was dressed in baggy leisure pants and a very colorful shirt, and then she said, ‘Crewman, the admiral works longer hours than any of us. If I hear you say anything remotely offensive about her, you will find your ass in the brig and then we’ll see what your wife and children say about that.’ That shut him up really fast.”
Only Dael’s self-control kept her from actually gaping at Darmiya’s reenactment of Spinner defending her admiral. “That’s—that’s quite something.”
“Isn’t it? I would say, after that, because a lot of people were in the mess hall at the time, it seemed several people had their own take on why they admire and like you so much.”
Now Dael had to stand up and turn her back to Darmiya. For some unfathomable reason, this young woman’s words, so without pretense, brought the message home. She had never doubted her crew was loyal to her and the mission, but for them to actually express any type of fondness for her? This was something entirely new. Previously, she’d been admired and feared. She knew she could be intimidating and had found this façade useful many times and part of her command style. But liked? So far from Oconodos, soon enough farther from their homeworld than any of the previous vessels had been before, perhaps being liked was also a very good thing.
“Very well, Darmiya, you may go ahead and form a party committee. Name it something appropriate and make sure your committee knows this is a provisional decision for now. I will bring it up with the captains this afternoon and then let you know the details of our discussion. Good enough?”
“Oh, very good, Admiral!” Bouncing up from the chair, Darmiya looked like she was only a fraction away from hugging Dael. Fortunately she stopped herself and instead made a funny little salute with two fingers touching her temple. “Thank you, sir. Everyone will have so much fun.”
“I hope so. Dismissed.” Dael said the last word with a smile, to let Darmiya know they were parting on good terms. She had a feeling that, as bubbly as this woman was, she was as vulnerable as Spinner. No wonder the two of them had found each other.
As Darmiya left, Dael’s last thought made her heart ache. Why would it matter to her if Darmiya and Spinner discovered each other on a personal level? Darmiya was stunning and Spinner was…well, she was enigmatically beautiful and definitely alluring to a young woman who no doubt saw Spinner as the hero she was.
Deciding to shove the pain that this whole concept brought her deep into the recesses of her mind, Dael sat down and prepared the addendum to the meeting with the captains later. No doubt they’d be taken off guard and quite shocked. Grinning now, Dael realized she looked forward to that. If nothing else, it would keep them on their toes.
*
“She said yes?” Spinner stopped running so abruptly the treadmill nearly smacked her into the wall behind it. “You sure you didn’t imagine it?”
“Not funny, Spinner.” Scowling, Darmiya slapped her upper arm. “The admiral’s going to bring it up with the captains of the other ships this afternoon. She told me to form a party committee.”
“Good luck with that, then.” Spinner rubbed her arm. “Was it necessary to hit the arm I fractured?” she muttered, trying to envision the admiral agreeing to have a fleet-wide party. “Did she say what kind of party she’d allowed?” She put her towel around her damp neck and sipped from her water bottle.
“I suggested dancing, eating, and gambling,” Darmiya said, looking completely angelic.
Spluttering, Spinner managed to get water up her nose and into her lungs. “You suggested gambling?” She avoided Darmiya’s attempt to slap her back, wheezing. “You’re entirely certifiable. You know that?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Darmiya shook her head. “Oh, there’s Calagan and Pemmer. Hey, boys, over here. I’ve got news.”
The two men walked over to them, Calagan looking suspicious. “Don’t tell me. You’ve antagonized the admiral enough to have her ditch us on the nearest planet that can remotely sustain life.”
“Idiot,” said his sister affectionately. “The party’s on!”
Pemmer’s jaw dropped, his eyes actually bugged out, and then he began to laugh nervously. “Admiral Caydoc wants a party? The admiral?” He sat down on one of the exercise machines and punched in the code that would enter his personal settings. As he began to push against the weights with his feet, he regarded Darmiya and Spinner with disbelief.
“See? I’m not the only one who’s stunned,” Spinner told Darmiya. “Look at that poor guy. You’ve knocked his world off its axis.”
“CAG? She’s not joking?” Pemmer shifted his gaze and met hers.
“No, she’s the head of the party committee.”
“Which you’re all a part of!” Darmiya made a wide motion with her arms. “We need to invite some people from each ship to help plan so everyone feels involved. Deities above, this will be such a welcome break from the research lab. I love my work, I really do, but lately I’ve worried that my eyes will become square-shaped from staring at a screen all day.”
“Back up, back up,” Spinner said, waving her hand in a circular motion. “We are all part of the committee? Just like that? You can’t just draft people—”
�
��But we hatched this idea together.” Darmiya looked confused, her eyes darting between them.
“We were a tad tipsy from the brandy, sister.” Calagan placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m in, though. I think a party would be great.”
Spinner was about to say she didn’t have time and therefore had to bow out, when Darmiya turned her stunning eyes toward her. Groaning inwardly, Spinner knew that if she refused she would feel like she was kicking a small animal. Besides, if anyone could set up a decent spin-jack tournament, it was her. “Sure. I’m in.”
Darmiya actually squealed, and as she shifted to look at Pemmer, who was sweating profusely now, she didn’t even have to say anything to him either.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll help out. I’m pretty sure I can get my wife to assist as well,” he said, out of breath. “What about the kids?”
Darmiya beamed. “Yes, they should have a say, definitely. Let’s get some of those.”
“She sounds like she’s actually shopping for some children.” Spinner looked at Calagan. “I thought I was beginning to know her. She’s impossible to stop, isn’t she?”
“You have no idea,” Calagan said with a grin. “Once she has her mind set—”
“I’m here, you know. I can hear you.” Darmiya clearly did her best to scowl. “We have to get this going. We only have eight days. Seven, really, as most of today’s already passed. Spinner, you’ll handle the spin-jack tournament. Pemmer, you’re an amateur musician, aren’t you? You can be in charge of the dancing. Calagan, you and I’ll help create a buffet. And I’ll see if I can draft some kids.” Looking completely energized, which made Spinner rather envious as her schedule now was beyond full, Darmiya stood and waved before hurrying toward the door.
“Force of nature,” Pemmer said weakly.
“Pain in the posterior.” Calagan grinned. “And bossy.”
