by Gun Brooke
Spinner could’ve written up her friends for the Emerald Order medal for those last words. Minutes. Brilliant.
The doc looked quite emotional to see them, which in his case meant he wasn’t frowning and didn’t huff when Spinner refused to lie down to have the testing done. As expected, Spinner tested immune and the siblings uninfected.
“Swing by Commander Weniell for the debriefing, Commander Seclan,” Dael said. She was standing closer now that the last medical issue was taken care of. “Then I want you to report to my quarters.” She stopped talking, her earlobes turning a faint pink. “If you are up for it tonight. I realize you might be—”
“I’m up for it.” Any more up for it and she’d kiss Dael right there in the infirmary, which wasn’t a good plan. Perhaps something of what went through her head showed on her face, because Dael took half a step backward.
“Good. See you then.” Dael nodded briefly at Spinner, Darmiya, and Calagan. “Welcome back.”
Spinner just stood there, watching Dael leave when Darmiya elbowed her upper arm. “Reel your tongue back in, will you?” She giggled and easily avoided Spinner’s faint attempt at retaliation. “Go get debriefed. Calagan and I’ll go say hello to our colleagues, and then I for one intend to shower and then go to bed for two days straight.”
“Sounds good.” Spinner was only half listening. Waving to them, she went over to one of the main lifts that would take her to Weniell’s office. Her mind wasn’t on the debriefing but on the woman she’d dreamed of every time she’d closed her eyes while aboard the Rondos. The way Dael had looked at her with terror-filled delight in her eyes was confusing, at best. Dael clearly wasn’t any more certain about what might be going on between them than Spinner had been.
Before the plague, she hadn’t acknowledged fully just how much she cared about Dael. Sure, she could never deny her attraction, but to evolve from there was intimidating. And if Spinner felt like that, Dael must feel twice as vulnerable. She was the admiral, the ultimate power in this nomadic existence of theirs. Every single decision, or action, was her responsibility. She was their leader or, in a sense, their queen. Most likely, that meant she could never be Spinner’s.
*
Dael stood in her office over by her desk. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been rooted in place, clutching her computer tablet. Not until it actually cut into her hand did she take a deep breath and sit down. She forced herself to reread its content, each word piercing her heart like arrows on fire. It was her burden of command, an expression she normally loathed, that she received the messages from Oconodos in encrypted form to be read in private. She was trained in which information to pass on, and which not to. Oh, how she would’ve wanted to let the crew keep going without knowing this! It just wasn’t possible. She would have to withhold any personal messages for the crewmembers sent from families and friends on their homeworld for this to remain classified. That was simply not doable.
Making sure she looked impeccable, with her hair in her usual austere bun, she paged Weniell and asked him to join her in the conference room. Next, she had Ensign Umbahr contact the people listed in a category called Advance Summit. This meant Umbahr would have the bridge and they wouldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency occurred.
“Good afternoon, Admiral. I just saw Spinner and she looked pretty good—” Weniell stopped midsentence and sat down after she wordlessly motioned for him to do so at the table. In front of them, the large view screen began to flicker and show video of the other captains and their first officers. When all of them were accounted for, Dael opened the audio channel.
“Good afternoon. This is a briefing I hoped never to perform. Two days ago, riots erupted in the Oconodian capital. The police were present but clearly had underestimated the number of the crowds. Four hours later, what was left of the crowd dispersed.”
“Sir? What do you mean, what was left of the crowd?” Captain Vildan asked, her lips thin.
“They had approximately 18,000 fatalities. The number is expected to rise.”
The other captains and their first officers all stared at her with different levels of horror on their faces.
“Creator of Oconodos, what happened?” It was the first officer of the Mugdon.
“The Oconodian authorities estimate that somewhere around 50,000 are wounded.” Dael had to keep going and not take too long looking at her captains. They were professional and seasoned military officers, but they also had people left behind whom they missed and who could be among the hurt or killed. “The situation is confused and the timeline sketchy, but the information I have suggests that approximately 250,000 people had gathered to demonstrate against some of the laws constricting the changers. Apparently, the less reactionary faction of our government had voted against automatic incarceration from birth for the changers. This made many people take to the streets, and a call went out via the computer-lines to gather at the Oconodian Mother’s Square. Soon, the streets were filled with enraged people, scared people, and that’s when some of the changers decided to mount a counter demonstration. Some of the original protesters were armed but had no real chance against the changers, who used their specific abilities to outmaneuver them. Our leaders managed to add some film clips and footage of the incident.”
“Have you watched it?” Tommus’ captain asked.
“I have. I’m transmitting it now.” Dael really didn’t want to see it again but still stayed where she was, viewing it with her subordinates.
The first clip showed part of a vast crowd yelling less than politically correct terms regarding the changers. They waved posters, fists, and occasionally tools and thick branches as they rallied against what they all feared.
“Put the fucking mutants on a frozen island!” one woman close to the cameraman screamed. “Keep us safe, that’s your job!”
Suddenly something hit from above and the crowd went quiet all at once, which made Dael shiver even though she’d seen this before. Soon, something so fast it was only a blur on the screen flew over the heads of the people. People screamed, and Dael saw several grope at their faces and necks and then frantically start to wipe themselves on their sleeves.
“What the hell?” Weniell murmured.
Another blur and the whole scene erupted into flames. The cameraman clearly stumbled backward quickly enough to keep filming, but the camera movements made it hard to see anything but glimpses of the mayhem unfolding in front of him.
“This is…insanity.” Captain Gossamay had lost most of his color. “They’re…was that kerosene, that first flyby?”
“That or some other flammable substance.” Weniell’s hands balled into tight fists. “And the second flyby was the flame…”
“Did someone else see what I saw?” Captain Vildan frowned and pressed something on her end, making the video replay from the first flyby. She pressed again, stopping the image.
Dael hadn’t noticed it the first time around, and now she just stared. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
“It’s a person. A winged person!” Gossamay roared. “It’s one of the damn mutants. They can fly.”
“One of them can, at least,” Dael said. “Sit down, Captain Gossamay. And no name-calling in my presence. Yes, the changers suffer from mutations, but we do not refer to them as mutants. This is not a comic-book story to entertain and thrill. We just watched hundreds, maybe thousands of people being burned by one or two disturbed individuals. You can watch the rest of the transmission at your own discretion, but we need to focus on how to tell our crew and the civilians. We will have grief, worry, and perhaps even upheaval among the civilians and need to be ready.”
“I suggest a meeting with our respective ships’ counselors,” Captain Olli of the Hegal said, her voice matter-of-fact but her dark eyes glimmering dangerously. “There are protocols even for things like this. Give the crew and civilians controlled means and places to work through their pain and confusion. Have them send audio and written messages to the loved ones they are worri
ed about. Inactivity is our worst enemy right now. Crewmembers off duty will be encouraged to sign up for extra shifts as aides to the counselors. That should be voluntary, though.”
Dael gave inner thanks to Captain Olli for her clear thinking. She’d already considered a similar course of action, as it was stipulated in the protocol, but it was better when suggestions came from her captains. Especially now. The crew needed to see that they had five trustworthy, competent leaders. It was vital.
“Very good. Form teams consisting of senior crewmembers, counselors, medical personnel, and anyone else among the civilians you think can be useful. Brief them. Once that’s done, I’ll make a full five-ship announcement on the screens with all your teams in place to answer questions. You have one hour. Any questions?” Dael could see they had many questions and yet none. She knew just how they felt. “Very well. Report back in an hour. Dismissed.” Dael closed the screen and turned to Weniell. “Let’s split the task between us. You bring in the crewmembers we need. I will go through the civilian passenger manifest and see who I can approach.”
“Yes, sir.” Weniell stood. “This is going to be hard.”
“Yes, it is.” Dael regarded her usually conceited first officer and saw something else, something she hadn’t readily noticed about him before. Perhaps it took something like this for him to let down his guard? He seemed more genuine. “Come on, Tresh.” She touched his arm briefly as she passed him. “We have work to do.”
Chapter Twenty-one
**Aniwyn Seclan**
**Commander and CAG**
**Day 207**
**Advance mission**
**Personal log**
I must’ve been staring at the computer screen for half an hour and just blanked out. The last twenty-four some hours have been so tumultuous, and with that I mean damn insane, that I feel completely gutted. I’d just come home from the Rondos and was so ready to relax and just spend some downtime with Dael. Both of us needed to heal after the breakout. We really did. And now this.
I saw the video transmissions and agreed with the decision not to make them public. Nobody should have to see them. Nobody should’ve had to live through those scenes. I don’t think I’ll ever get the images out of my head completely. Certainly not out of my heart.
I felt guilty for being grateful that Pherry and his family live too far from the center of Oconodos to have been there. I mean, the risk is minimal. Still, I won’t even start to feel right until I hear from him. Why didn’t I persuade them to come with me? Why did I think it was safer to wait for the big ships?
Now, this isn’t doing anyone any good. I need to stay focused and be of help and service where I can. If Dael can be so strong, so can I, right? I’ve never been as proud of another person as when I witnessed her addressing the five ships. First, she and Weniell gathered all of us belonging to the senior crew and gave us the bottom line of what had just happened back home. She let Weniell speak and actually sat next to me at the conference table, looking so collected and calm. I didn’t realize how affected she really was until she took my hand under the table and clung to it. That was when I felt those fine, invisible tremors reverberating from her. I did my best to absorb them and squeezed her hand back. At the same time, my head was actually hurting from the topic of the briefing, and having been through so much on the Rondos, I thought I might lose it. And I didn’t want that, not in front of everybody and certainly not when Dael needed me.
After the briefing, Dael asked me to accompany her to the small broadcasting studio. I nearly forgot to let go of her hand before we stood, but something tells me she wouldn’t have cared at that point.
As she addressed the crew and passengers, her voice was steady, and those amazing eyes of hers were clear as water. She spoke with empathy and radiated reassurance, but out of the viewers’ sight, her hands were clenched in such tight fists, her knuckles were chalk white. Perhaps I was the only one who knows her well enough to spot the tiny, tiny muscle spasm at the left side of her jaw.
Afterward, we each had our duty shift, but before she left the broadcasting room, she turned to me. We were the only ones left and she brushed her lips against my cheek. “Later tonight, when you’re off duty and things have mellowed, would you come to my quarters after all?” she asked, sounding noncommittal, as if a rejection wouldn’t really matter. I knew this was the exact opposite of the truth. Her eyes now burned with this silver glow, and she seemed to hold her breath.
“Absolutely.” I wanted her to know there was no doubt in my mind—or my heart.
Dael gave me the code for her door lock, made me repeat it twice, and then left with a mere nod.
I went to the assault-craft bay, wanting to be with my pilots as their commanding officer and offer what support I could. All over the ship, as I passed through the corridors, I heard agitated and upset whispers. Some people were crying, others demanding more information, more answers. The pilots were all quite subdued. Most of them sat with their family and friends, which increased my crowd times four. I didn’t have to say much; it seems the most important part was that I was present. One of the counselors stopped by after an hour to offer his services. As I guessed, most of the pilots weren’t interested, but I also knew that, with time, when they realized they might not be coping as well as they thought, several of them would take him up on it. Another unknown factor is, of course, if they know any of the dead or injured back on Oconodos. After two hours, we seemed to be all talked out for the moment and began to leave. I stayed until everyone else was gone and then made my way to Dael’s quarters.
And here I sit now, computer tablet in hand, on the couch in Dael’s quarters, wondering what state she’ll be in when she gets here. No matter what, I know she’ll need someone. I might be conceited and selfish, but I want that someone to be me.
**End recording**
The door to Dael’s quarters opened and Spinner stood immediately.
“Really, Spinner. As you were.” Dael smiled wryly as she stepped inside, tossing her jacket on a chair. “If there ever was a time for that brandy, it’s now.” She walked over to the row of cabinets and closets and pulled out a large bottle. Turning around, she snorted as she met Spinner’s gaze. “You looked shocked. Didn’t you think I knew about the moonlighting?”
“Um. I suppose it’s your job to know everything that goes on.” Spinner wanted to hug Dael so badly, but her expression wasn’t exactly inviting.
“You suppose correctly.” Dael stopped on her way to the kitchenette. “You’ve been cooking?”
“Yes. Have you eaten anything? If not, I fixed a vegetable casserole. Only a couple of the ingredients are fresh. The rest is freeze-dried stuff that was compressed enough for me to have to venture a guess. Tastes all right, though.”
Looking deflated, Dael put down the bottle and slumped at the kitchenette counter. “I haven’t eaten. Have you, or will you join me?”
“I waited for you. Of course I’ll join you. I’m not going anywhere.” Spinner made sure her voice projected her determination. “You need someone—no, me—here.”
At first it seemed like Dael took Spinner’s last words as a challenge. Her back straightened and she raised her chin. Her hands gripped the countertop hard enough to make her grimace and look down at them in surprise. With a deep sigh she slumped against the work surface again. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Why don’t you kick off your boots and take a seat at the table while I get us some plates?” Spinner moved quickly into the kitchenette.
Dael took off her boots and placed them neatly next to her desk. She sat down and merely stared at the screens showing the shimmering magnetar-strip wall and the stars beyond it.
“Want something to drink? Or are you happy with the brandy?” Spinner asked.
“I’m having second thoughts. It’s a really bad idea to drink alcohol as a remedy for something.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.” Spinner regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips.
A new spark lit Dael’s eyes and she turned her attention fully on her. “Oh? You’ve experienced this?”
“You know I don’t mind partying with all it entails, including the brandy and whatnot. I do have a strict, self-imposed limit. Even after all this time, I’m sensitive to alcohol. It doesn’t take much to make me drunk.” Spinner hoped her long-winded explanation would make Dael think she’d got her answer.
“So who used it as a remedy, then?” Clearly Dael wasn’t easily distracted.
Spinner sighed. All right. This was about trusting and sharing. She might as well go first. She took two plates from the heater and placed them on the table, which she’d already set with utensils, napkins, and mugs. Placing a pitcher of water in the center, she sat down at a right angle from Dael. “My father.”
“Aniwyn, I’m sorry.” Dael rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s none of my business.”
“It doesn’t matter. Really.” Spinner motioned toward Dael’s plate. “Try to eat some.” She took a bite and chewed. It tasted fine, but she wasn’t hungry. Only the knowledge that she needed the nutrition and that Dael did too kept her going. She managed half her portion before she put down her utensils. Sipping her water, she leaned back. “My father didn’t take my mother’s absence very well. He drank most days. Just a little at first. Then that wasn’t enough, so he added a few chemicals to the mix to enhance the experience.” Shrugging, Spinner did her best to try for flippant. “That had some interesting, albeit painful, effects.”
“Sounds like it would make a man volatile,” Dael said carefully.
“Yes.”
“Did he beat you, Aniwyn?” Dael pushed her half-eaten portion to the side, resting her elbows on the table.
“He mainly targeted my younger brother, Pherry, but when I was present, I put myself in the middle. So, yes, he hit me. He never meant to, I’m fairly sure, but my brother, who was only nine years old when our mother left, was the scapegoat for anything that went wrong in our father’s life. We kept up appearances until I was old enough to leave. I took Pherry with me and that was the only time I threatened my father. I said if he didn’t give me Pherry, I’d testify against him. That worked. He was a general in the military with more medals and awards than any of his peers. He preferred to lose his son rather than lose face in front of them.”
